ll
fights in future at once."

"Very well, sir," said young Brooke, touching his hat, and not sorry
to see the turret-door close behind the Doctor's back.

Meantime Tom and the staunchest of his adherents had reached
Harrowell's, and Sally was bustling about to get them a late tea, while
Stumps had been sent off to Tew the butcher, to get a piece of raw beef
for Tom's eye, which was to be healed off-hand, so that he might show
well in the morning. He was not a bit the worse except a slight
difficulty in his vision, a singing in his ears, and a sprained thumb,
which he kept in a cold-water bandage, while he drank lots of tea, and
listened to the Babel of voices talking and speculating of nothing but
the fight, and how Williams would have given in after another fall
(which he didn't in the least believe), and how on earth the Doctor
could have got to know of it,--such bad luck! He couldn't help thinking
to himself that he was glad he hadn't won; he liked it better as it was,
and felt very friendly to the Slogger. And then poor little Arthur crept
in and sat down quietly near him, and kept looking at him and the raw
beef with such plaintive looks, that Tom at last burst out laughing.

"Don't make such eyes, young 'un," said he, "there's nothing the
matter."

"Oh but, Tom, are you much hurt? I can't bear thinking it was all for
me."

"Not a bit of it, don't flatter yourself. We were sure to have had it
out sooner or later."

"Well, but you won't go on, will you? You'll promise me you won't go
on?"

"Can't tell about that--all depends on the houses. We're in the hands of
our countrymen, you know. Must fight for the School-house flag, if so
be."

However, the lovers of the science were doomed to disappointment this
time. Directly after locking-up, one of the night fags knocked at Tom's
door.

"Brown, young Brooke wants you in the sixth-form room."

Up went Tom to the summons, and found the magnates sitting at their
supper.

"Well, Brown," said young Brooke, nodding to him, "how do you feel?"

"Oh, very well, thank you, only I've sprained my thumb, I think."

"Sure to do that in a fight. Well, you hadn't the worst of it, I could
see. Where did you learn that throw?"

"Down in the country, when I was a boy."

"Hullo! why what are you now? Well, never mind, you're a plucky fellow.
Sit down and have some supper."

Tom obeyed, by no means loth. And the fifth-form boy next him filled him
a tumbler of bottled-