"That's right," said Trimble; "he's only called Sarah because he looks like it. He's not more in it than the rest of us, because he only had to take care of the guy because he was president. We're all sorry the tongue was made so long."

The magistrate did his best to look grave as he turned to Mr Jarman.

"Does this explanation help to clear up the mystery?"

Mr Jarman bit his lips and said,--

"If it is as they say, it may account for the explosion. I certainly dropped several matches through the grating."

"It is as we say, isn't it, you chaps?" said Langrish. "We wouldn't tell a cram about it."

"Rather not!" chimed we.

"Very well. Then I don't see that I can do much good," said the magistrate. "Dr England will know better how to deal with the matter.

An accident is an accident after all; and if I may give an opinion, these boys have done quite properly in coming here and telling all about it. Little boys should not be allowed to play with explosives. At the same time, you must allow me to say, Mr Jarman, that it is unfortunate for a master to put himself in the position of being made the subject of an effigy. As for Tempest, there is absolutely nothing against him, unless according to the rules of the school it is an offence for a boy who is locked up in a dark room at night to do his best to get out. It is a great pity the matter was brought to me at all; but as it has been, my advice is to let it rest where it is. Meanwhile, this poor fellow who has been injured has some claim, and I dare say this sovereign will help get him the necessary bandages and plaster for his forehead. Good morning, Dr England; good morning, Mr Jarman. Good day, my lads. Let this be a lesson against touch-paper tongues." So ended the famous affair of Mr Jarman's guy.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

GOING DOWN STREAM.

If any one supposed that Low Heath had heard the last of Mr Jarman's guy they little knew Mr Jarman, or Tempest, or the Philosophers. The ghost of that unhappy effigy was hardly likely to be laid by a simple magisterial decision.

Mr Jarman, it was rumoured, had a bad quarter of an hour with the doctor that evening, and went about his ordinary work for the next few days with a scowl which boded no good to any one who chanced to cross him, least of all to those of us who had contributed to his defeat.

Tempest, on the other hand, took his victory coolly. He talked it over with his chums, and came to the conclusion that they were quits with the enemy and could afford to leave him alone. But it was plain to see that he had suffered a jar, which found expression in his reckless unconcern for the duties of his position as head of his house, and an increased disinclination to make any exertion for the credit of a school which, he considered, had treated him ill. What troubled me most was to notice that his spirits had flagged, and that he was dropping slowly into the listless indifference which had made Pridgin only a term ago shirk his responsibilities to the school.

Towards us juniors he was utterly easy-going, perhaps in token of his grat.i.tude for the a.s.sistance we had rendered him at a critical time; but chiefly, I fear, because he was slack to check anything which seemed to defy const.i.tuted authority or promised to give an uneasy time to the representatives of law and order.

To do us credit, we availed ourselves of his licence to the uttermost.

Sharpe's rapidly became known as the "rowdy" house at Low Heath, and we grew almost proud of the distinction. Mr Sharpe, an amiable bookworm, made periodical mild expostulations, which were always most deferentially received, and most invariably neglected.

If any reader thinks (as we flattered ourselves at the time) that Mr Jarman was the cause of all this state of things, let me tell him he is as stupid as we young fools then were.

It's all very well to stand up for your rights, but the way to do it is not by letting everything go wrong. If poor old Tempest had taken a bigger view of things, he would have seen that the way to pay Jarman out was by making Sharpe's house the crack house of Low Heath in spite of him. But how hard it is to see just what the right thing is at the time! So I do not propose to throw stones at anybody, whatever the reader may do.

The Philosophers of course duly entered a record of the transactions just related in their minutes, the reading of which occupied the whole of one of the extraordinary general meetings of their club.

One could never say what line Langrish would take up; and I as president always had my qualms in calling upon him to read the minutes of the previous meeting.

On the present occasion our meeting was held one half-holiday late in the term, in mid-stream, on a barge which, in the course of a "scientific" ramble, we found in a forlorn condition, about a mile above Low Heath. It was empty, and neither horse nor man nor boy was there to betoken that it had an owner.

Being capacious, though dirty--for it was evidently in the habit of carrying coal--it struck us generally that in the interests of philosophy we should explore it. The result being satisfactory, it was moved and seconded and carried that the club hereby hold an extraordinary meeting.

Objection was taken to the proximity of our meeting-place to the bank--"in case some of the day louts should be fooling about," as Warminster explained. Thereupon, with herculean efforts, we shoved out the stern across stream, the prow being still tethered; and catching on to a stake, we had the satisfaction not only of feeling ourselves in an una.s.sailable position, but of knowing that we were effectually blocking the river for any presumptuous wayfarer who wanted to go either up stream or down.

After exploring the bunks and lockers and hold of the unsavoury vessel, Trimble proposed that it would be best for the club to occupy seats on the floor of the barge, where, quite invisible to any one on sh.o.r.e or stream, we could hold our meeting undisturbed.

In a few introductory remarks, which were listened to with some impatience, I explained that things had reached a critical state at Low Heath. It was the duty of everybody to back up Tempest and make it hot for Jarman. (Cries of "Why don't you?" "What's the use of you?") We didn't intend to be interfered with by anybody, and if c.o.xhead didn't shut up shying bits of coal he'd get one for himself. (Derisive cheers from c.o.xhead, and more coal.)

c.o.xhead and I were both warm when, a quarter of an hour later, I resumed the chair and called upon our excellent secretary to read the minutes, which he accordingly did.

"Owing to the asinine mulishness of Sarah--" Here an interruption occurred.

"Look here," said I, "you've got to drop that, Langrish. I've told you already I'm not going to stand it."

"Stand what? Being called Sarah or an asinine mule?"

I explained that I was particularly referring to Sarah.

"Oh, all serene," said the secretary. "We'll start again."

"Owing to the asinine mulishness of S--H, and three between--"

"No--that won't do," said I, fiercely.

"Owing to the asinine mulishness of--" here the speaker pointed at me with his thumb--"of the asinine mule in the chair--"

I was weak enough to let this pa.s.s, and the applause with which it was received quite carried the secretary off his feet. When he got on them again he resumed,--

"Jarman's guy was mulled all through. Even Trimble couldn't have made a bigger mess of it."

Here Trimble mildly interposed, but Langrish, who had hooked one arm through a ring in the side of the vessel, and had a firm grip with his feet up against a rib in front of him, was inflexible.

"A bigger mess of it," he repeated, when at last he was free to proceed.

"It was stuck just under the grating of the gym., and was neatly blown up by Jarman at 8:15 on November 2. The cost of the fireworks was four- and-six, which the asinine mule, as it was his fault, is going to hand over to the club, or know the reason why."

I said I would know the reason why. Whereupon a long Socratic argument ensued.

"Do you mean to say it wasn't your fault?" demanded Langrish.

"I couldn't tell Jarman would drop his cigar down."

"But if you'd tried you couldn't have stuck him in a better place."

"That's what I thought. What have you got to growl at?"

"You offered to put it in a safe place."

"No, I didn't. I didn't want to have it at all."

"But you did have it; you can't deny that."

"No--but--"

"Hold on. And you stuck it there under the grating."

"Well, and if I did--"