up and
down the floor for a long time that evening. He did not put in an
appearance in the common room, and although Yorke sent to ask him to
tea, he forgot all about the invitation, and even if he had remembered
it, would have forgotten whether he had said Yes or No.

The next morning--Sunday--just as the chapel bell was beginning to ring,
Widow Wisdom was startled by a loud knock at her door.

"Oh, Master Rollitt," said she, and her eyes were red still, "is the
boat safe after all?"

"No; but I've got you another. Farmer Gay's was for sale on the lake--
I've bought it. It's yours now."

"Farmer Gay's--mine? Oh, go on, Master Rollitt, how could _you_ buy a
boat any more than me? You've no money to spare, I know."

"It's yours--here's the receipt," said the boy, with almost a scowl.

"But, Master Rollitt--"

But Master Rollitt had gone to be in time for chapel.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

TRIAL BY JURY.

Fisher minor's hopes rose high within him as he stalked his debtor
across the School Green. Three times already he had encountered him,
but fate had stepped in to prevent the collection of his dues. Now--

He had arrived at this stage when a voice at his side sent a cold shiver
down his back.

"Hullo, kid, got you at last, then? That's what you call waiting where
I left you, do you?"

"I didn't promise to wait," said Fisher. "You told me to."

"It's the same thing. Now you'll come along with me, my beauty."

Had Fisher minor been anything but a raw hand, it might have occurred to
him that it would take Percy Wheatfield all his time to convey a boy
his, Fisher's, size against his will into Forder's house. But such is
the force of innocence on one side, and authority on the other, that the
new boy laid down his arms, and followed his captor meekly into the
enemy's citadel. Just as they were entering, a posse of the enemy
appeared on the scene, consisting, among other supporters of the Modern
cause, of Ramshaw, Cottle, Lickford, and Cash.

"Here's a game, Rammy," cried Percy. "Got him at last! This is the
villain, this is the murdering, highway forger. Come on, you kid;
you're in for it."

It did occur to Fisher minor at this juncture that a change of air might
be refreshing. But it was too late now. The enemy had him fast. There
was no getting out of the "warm weather" which had been promised him.

"Come on--we'll have a regular Old Bailey of it," cried Percy. "Go and
tell the fellows,