"Oh," said the boy softly, "that's bad. Very good uns, waren't they?"

Pen bowed his head.

"Then it waren't your home any longer?"

"Yes and no, Punch," said the lad gravely.

"There you go again! Don't aggravate a fellow when he is sick and weak.

I ain't a scholar like you, and when you puts it into me with your 'yes and no' it makes my head ache. It can't be yes and no too."

"Well, Punch," said Pen, smiling, "it was mine by rights, but I was under age."

"What's under age?"

"Not twenty-one."

"Of course not. You told me months ago that you was only eighteen.

Anybody could see that, because you ain't got no whiskers. But what has that got to do with it?"

"Well, I don't see why I should tell you all this, Punch, for it's all about law."

"But I want to know," said the boy, "because it's all about you."

"Well, it's like this: my father left my uncle to be executor and my trustee."

"Oh, I say, whatcher talking about? You said your father was a good un, didn't you?"

"I did."

"Well, then, he couldn't have left your uncle to be your executioner when you hadn't done nothing."

"Executor, Punch," said the lad, laughing.

"Well, that's what I said, didn't I?"

"No; that's a very different thing. An executor is one who executes."

"Well, I know that. Hangs people who ain't soldiers, and shoots them as is. Court-martial, you know."

"Punch, you are getting in a muddle."

"Glad of it," said the boy, "for I thought it was, and I don't like to hear you talk like that."

"Then let's put it right. An executor is one who executes the commands of a person who is dead."

"Oh, I see," said the boy. "Dead without being executed."

"Look here, Punch," said Pen, laughing, "you had better be still and listen, and I will try and make it plain to you. My uncle was my father's executor, who had to see that the property he left was rightfully distributed."

"Oh, I see," said Punch.

"And my father made him my trustee, to take charge of the money that was to be mine when I became twenty-one."

"All right; go on. I am getting it now."

"Then he had to see to my education, and advise me till I grew up."

"Well, that was all right, only if I had been your old man, seeing what a chap you are, I shouldn't have called in no uncle. I should have said, 'Young Penton Gray has got his head screwed on proper, and he will do what's right.' I suppose, then, your uncle didn't."

"I thought not, Punch."

"Then, of course, he didn't. What did he do, then?"

"Made me leave school," said Pen.

"Oh, well, that don't sound very bad. Made you leave school? Well, I never was at school but once, but I'd have given anything to be made to come away."

"Ah, perhaps you would, Punch. But then there are schools and schools."

"Well, I know that," said the boy irritably; "but don't tease a fellow, it makes me so wild now I'm all weak like."

"Well, then, let's say no more about it."

"What! Leave off telling of me?"

"Yes, while you are irritable."

"I ain't irritable; not a bit. It's only that I want to know."

"Very well, then, Punch; I will cut it short."

"No, you don't, so come now! You promised to tell me all about it, so play fair."

"Very well, then, you must listen patiently."

"That's what I'm a-doing of, only you will keep talking in riddles like about your executioners and trustees. I want you to tell me just in plain English."

"Very well, then, Punch. I was at a military school, and I didn't want to be fetched away."

"Oh, I see," cried the boy. "You mean one of them big schools where they makes young officers?"

"Yes."

"Like Woolwich and Addis...o...b..?"

"Yes."

"You were going to be a soldier, then--I mean, an officer?"