Telson said "Thank you," and immediately deposited himself at the table,
and quietly continued his work, awaiting the result of King's message.

The result was not long in coming.

"Telson!" shouted a voice down the passage in less than five minutes.

Telson went to the door and shouted back, "What's the row?"

"Where are you?" said the voice.

"Here," replied Telson, shutting the door and resuming his work.

"Who's that?" asked Riddell of his fag.

"I don't know, unless it's Game," said Telson.

"Now then, Telson," cried the voice again, "come here."

"I can't--I'm busy!" shouted Telson back from where he sat. At the same
moment the door opened, and Game entered in a great state of wrath.

The appearance of a Parrett monitor "on duty" in the schoolhouse was
always a strange spectacle; and Game, when he discovered into whose
study he had marched, was a trifle embarrassed.

"What is it, Game?" asked Riddell, civilly.

"I want Telson," said Game, who, by the way, had scarcely spoken to the
new captain since his appointment.

"What do you want?" said Telson, boldly.

"Why didn't you come when you were sent for?" demanded Game.

"Who sent for me?"

"Bloomfield."

"I'm not Bloomfield's fag," retorted Telson. "I'm Riddell's."

"What did I tell you this afternoon?" said Game, beginning to suspect
that he had fallen into a trap.

"Told me to go to the captain after chapel."

"And what do you mean by not going?"

"I did go--I went to Riddell."

"I told you to go to Bloomfield," said Game, growing hot.

"Bloomfield's not the captain," retorted Telson, beginning to enjoy
himself. "Riddell's captain."

"You were fighting in the `Big,'" said Game, looking uneasily at Riddell
while he spoke.

"I know I was. Riddell's potted me for it, haven't you, Riddell?"

"I've given Telson fifty lines, and stopped his play two days," said
Riddell, quietly.

"Yes, and I'm writing the lines now," said Telson, dipping his pen in
the ink, and scarcely smothering a laugh.

Game, now fully aware of his rebuff, was glad of an opportunity of
covering his defeat by a diversion.

"Look here," said he, walking up to Telson, "I didn't come here to be
cheeked by you, I can tell you."

"Who's cheeking you?" said Telson. "I'm not."

"Yes, you are," said Game. "I'm not going to be humbugged about by
you."

"I don't want to humbug you about," replied the junior, defiantly.

"I think there's a mistake, you know," sai