"Won't Clapperton grin!" said Percy. "I say, you chaps, we may as well let him have it one at a time. Then he'll hear it nine times over, do you see? I'll go first."

The idea seemed a good one, but risky. Cottle calculated that after about the fourth time Clapperton would be a little riled. He therefore modestly proposed to follow Percy. Cash and Lickford competed smartly for the third place, the former being successful. Ramshaw, having to come fifth, had decided misgivings as to the fun of the thing; while the Cla.s.sic juniors declined to play unless all the others remained on the spot ready to back up in case of emergency.

It was also decided that, for precautionary reasons, the key of Clapperton's door should be removed for the time being, lest he should try to lock the good news out; and that an interval of two minutes should be allowed to elapse between each messenger's announcement.

Little dreaming of the exquisite torture being prepared for him, Clapperton sat in his study engaged in the farce of preparation.

He had plenty to think of besides lessons. Things had all gone wrong with him. Dangle and he had fought. Brinkman, after his thrashing by Corder, no longer counted. Fullerton had rebelled, and was taking boys over every day to the enemy. Corder had successfully defied his-- Clapperton's--authority, and the juniors snapped their fingers at him.

And yet Clapperton had come up this term determined to lay himself out for his side, and be the most popular prefect in Fellsgarth!

His one comfort was that the Cla.s.sics were under a cloud too. One of their number was a runaway thief; and a stigma rested on their side worse than any that attached to the Moderns.

He was trying to make the most of this questionable consolation when the door opened, and Percy bounced in.

"I say, Clapperton; Fisher's found the money. Rollitt's not a thief.

Ain't you glad? Hurray!"

And, without waiting, he retired as suddenly as he had come.

Clapperton gaped at the door by which he had gone in amazement. He had never calculated on this. This was the worst thing yet. It showed Yorke had been right, and that he and Dangle--

The door opened again, and Cottle ran in. "Hurray, Clapperton! The money's found. Rollitt's no thief. Ain't you glad?" And he, too, vanished.

There must be something in it. What a fool he would look to all Fellsgarth! Perhaps it was only a plot, though, to shield Rollitt.

Perhaps--

The door once more swung open, and in jumped Cash.

"Clapperton, I say--Hooray! That money's been found. Rollitt's no thief. Ain't you glad?"

Hullo! At this rate he would get to know the news. How they would crow on the other side! He wondered if Fisher major had done it on purp--

Again there was a scuffle of feet at the door, and Lickford stepped in.

"Oh! Clapperton," he said. "Hooray, Clapperton! The money's turned up, and Rollitt's no thief. Ain't you glad?--and, oh, I say, Clapperton--hooray!"

"Come here," said Clapperton, sternly.

But, oh dear no; Lickford was pressed, and couldn't stay.

"The young a.s.ses!" growled Clapperton. "Why can't they keep their precious news to themselves? If they'd tried, they couldn't have made bigger nuisances of themselves. I suppose, now, Yorke will--"

The door swung open again, and Ramshaw, hanging on to the handle, swung in with it.

"Hooray, Clapperton! Rollitt's no thief. That money's turned up.

Ain't you glad? I am--good evening."

This final greeting was cut short by a ruler which Clapperton sent flying at the messenger's head. Ramshaw dodged in time, and the ruler flew out into the pa.s.sage, where it was promptly captured by Fisher minor, whose turn came next.

"Thank goodness that's the end of the young cads!" growled Clapperton.

"They've done it on purpose; and I'll pay them out for it. That a.s.s, Fisher major, he's bound to--"

Here there came a modest tap at the door, and Fisher minor peeped in, apologetically.

"Well, what do you want? You've no business on this side; go to your own house."

"All right, Clapperton," said Fisher, speaking with unwonted rapidity.

"I only thought you'd like to know my brother's found the money.

Hurray! Rollitt's no thief; ain't you glad?--Yeow!"

This last exclamation was in response to a grab from the enraged Clapperton, which, though it failed to catch the messenger, clawed his face.

"I've had enough of this," said the senior. "I don't care--. Hullo!

where's my key?"

The key was not to be seen. He looked out into the pa.s.sage; it was not there. No one else was in sight.

He returned viciously to his seat at the table, and began to read again.

The door had opened, and Ashby, on tip-toe, was in the room before the senior noticed the fresh intrusion.

"Rollitt's no thief; ain't you glad? The money's found. Hurray, Clapperton!--done it!" exclaimed Ashby, all in one breath, dancing out of the room in conscious pride at his exploit.

"All very well," said D'Arcy, whose turn came next; "how am I to do it?"

"No shirking," said Wally; "I come after you."

"Look here," said D'Arcy; "if you chaps give me a leg-up, I'll let him have it through his window. I can reach round from this pa.s.sage window to his if you hang on to my legs."

"Good dodge," said Wally, admiringly, "but we'd better turn the key on the door first. If he came out and spotted us holding you, we might have to drop you."

So the key was quietly put in the lock and turned; and D'Arcy, firmly held by the heels, wriggled himself out of the window, and, with the aid of a pipe, pulled himself up, with his face to the window of Clapperton's study.

That worthy was beginning to congratulate himself that he would be spared a further repet.i.tion of the uncomfortable news that night, when a sudden, loud voice at one of the open lattice panes almost startled him out of his skin.

"Oh, Clapperton! Ain't you glad? Rollitt's no thief. The money's found. Good evening--have you used our soap? Haul in, you chaps!

Sharp!"

The persecuted senior, after the first surprise, made a frantic rush, first at the window, and then, finding the bird flown, at the door. The latter was locked. He could hear a scuffling and scrambling in the lobby outside, followed by a stampede; after which dead silence prevailed, save for the vicious kicking of the imprisoned hero at his own door.

"Whew!" said Wally, fanning himself when the juniors were safe back in Percy's study. "That was a squeak, if you like. How on earth am I to do it?"

"Better let him off," suggested some one.

Wally resented the suggestion as an insult.

"Not likely," said he. "I'll do it. I don't care, if you all back up."