into the bank and breaks rudder-
line. It is ascertained Fairbairn and others are suspected. After this
a ding-dong race ensued to the finish where eventually the dark [altered
to "light"] blues won by a foot [altered to "mile"] Parrett's having
given in owing to Parson who is alluded to above.'"

"Oh, I say, this is a drop too much," exclaimed the wrathful Parson,
rising. "I'll pay him out for this, see if I don't!"

"Don't be an ass, Parson," said Telson. "Sit down, can't you? You've
no business to look at his diary at all, you know, if it comes to that."

Parson sat down with a wrathful countenance, and Telson proceeded.

"We shall not see a new race as I hear Riddell and Bloomfield declining.
I spoke to Parson who completely repents. He suspects Telson who he
ascertains is the one to do it. It is gross. How many things go wrong.
Wyndham hath not found his knife he requested me had I seen it. I
answered nay, not so. I have composed these verses which I will set
down here as they may recall the past:--

"`My name is Norval [altered to "Bosher"], on the Grampian [altered to
"Willoughby"] hills. My father [altered to "Doctor Patrick"] feeds his
flocks [altered to "boys"]'."

"Well," said Telson, as he closed the thrilling narrative, and tossed it
back to King, "I never thought Bosher was up to much, but I didn't know
he was a downright lunatic."

"Oh, I don't know," said King. "It's not so bad. I tried to keep a
diary once, but I could never find anything to say."

"Well, I guess Bosher's not hard-up in that line," said Telson,
laughing. "But, I say, we ought to give it to him back somehow."

"I'll give it to him back pretty hot!" exclaimed Parson. "I vote we
burn the boshy thing."

"Oh, you can't do that. You'd better smuggle it back into his study
somehow, King, without his knowing."

"All serene," said King, pocketing the book. "Hallo! who's this
coming?"

As he spoke there was a sound of hurrying footsteps in the passage
outside, and immediately afterwards the door opened and revealed none
other than the sentimental author of Bosher's diary himself.

Just at present, and luckily for him, he did not appear to be in a
sentimental mood; his face was a little scared and mysterious-looking as
he hurriedly stepped into the room and shut the door after him.

"Look out, I say!" he exclaimed, "the Welchers are coming!"

This magic announcement dispelled in a moment whatever resentment may