the group echoed,
"Better not hit him, indeed! Give him a good licking for his cheek,
Warburton; I would if I were you!"

Warburton's jeer was very forced, but the voices of the rest gave him
courage. So he rushed at Harry. The latter, however, seeing what to
expect, threw away his books, and then flew at Warburton, who, from
sheer astonishment at having actually to fight when he thought to
administer an easy licking, began the combat at rather a disadvantage.
Both hit very wildly at first, and not much damage was done. Of the
two, Warburton was most out of breath, for he had been hitting
furiously at Harry, who, not being strong enough to ward off the blows
with his arms, had been forced to dodge and duck his head.

Presently they got into a corner close to the lobby-door, and Harry was
beginning to flag. Not a word all this time had been uttered by the
on-lookers. They would not back Harry; and to cheer on Warburton would
be ridiculous. "Of course he would lick him all to pieces in a
minute," they said.

But the minute had been a good long one, and all in their hearts were
somewhat surprised. Just then Egerton came up; and Harry could
scarcely believe his ears, when one voice alone came out of the crowd,
cheering him on, and saying, "Go it, Campbell! Well fought! I'll back
you, after all." And the voice was Egerton's.

At that moment Warburton was making a furious charge at him, when Harry
stepped sharply aside, and gathering all his remaining force into one
blow, hit his foe on the jaw: at the same instant Warburton slipped,
and the blow and the false step terminated the fight, for he fell
violently through the open lobby-door upon the stone floor.

"Well fought, Campbell! well fought!" cried Egerton.

No one else uttered a word.

Waiting till Warburton was on his feet again, his mouth bleeding, his
face very crestfallen, Harry picked up his books, and shaking off
Egerton's congratulations and friendly words, for he felt he was far
more his enemy than Warburton, started home.

A good bathe in the lavatory set the mouth to rights; but Warburton was
utterly cowed, and had learnt a lesson, which the rest had learnt too,
that meek-hearted boys may bear a good deal of bullying, but that even
to their endurance there is a certain limit.

CHAPTER VIII.

FRIENDS IN MISFORTUNE.

Ominous words--A visitor--Harry breaks down--A confused story--What is
to be done?--In good keeping.

Harry reache