ning his jacket; "but I'll apologise, Telson, you know."

"Don't want any apologising; I want to fight," said Telson. "I'll take
young Bosher too."

"Oh!" said Bosher, rather alarmed, "I don't want to fight."

"I knew you were a beastly funk!" said Telson, scornfully.

"No, I'm not," said Bosher, meekly.

"Get out of the way!" cried the majestic Telson, brushing past him
towards King, who now stood with his coat off and a very apologetic
face, ready for the young bantam's disposal.

Telson and King fought there and then. It was not a very sanguinary
contest, nor was it particularly scientific. It did Telson good, and it
did not do King much harm. The only awkward thing about it was that
neither side knew exactly when to stop. Telson claimed the victory
after every round, and King respectfully disputed the statement. Telson
thereupon taunted his adversary with "funking it," and went at him
again, very showy in action, but decidedly feeble in execution. King,
by keeping one arm over his face and working the other gently up and
down in front of his body, was able to ward off most of the blows aimed,
and neither aspired nor aimed to hit out himself.

The "fight" might have lasted a week had not Game, coming up that way
from the boats, caught sight of it. As it was neither an exciting
combat nor a profitable one, the Parrett's monitor considered it a good
case for interfering, as well as for calling in the authority of the
popular captain.

"King and Telson," he said, stepping between the combatants, "stop it,
and come to Bloomfield's study after chapel. You know fighting in the
`Big' is against rules."

"What are we to go to Bloomfield for?" demanded Telson, whose temper was
still disturbed.

"For breaking rules," said Game, as he walked on.

"Shall you go?" said Telson to King as the two slowly put on their
coats.

"Yes, I suppose so, or he'll give us a licking."

"I shan't go; he's not the captain," said Telson.

"I say, you'll catch it if you don't," said King, with apprehension in
his looks. "They're always down on you if you don't go to the captain
when you're told."

"I tell you he's not the captain," replied Telson, testily, "and I
shan't go. If they want to report me they'll have to do it to Riddell."

With which virtuous decision he went his way, slightly solaced in his
mind by the fight, and still more consoled by the prospects of a row
ahead.

Telson was quite cute enough to see h