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The Triple Alliance

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effect which his remark had produced; then he burst out laughing. "Look here," he continued, producing from his pocket a buck-handled clasp-knife: "I wonder if that's anything like it; I see the big blade's broken." The Triple Alliance recognized it in a moment as one of the articles that had been rescued from Mugford's sale at The Birches; in fact, the owner's name appeared plainly engraved on the small brass plate. Diggory was the first to find his tongue. "What d'you mean? We didn't steal the coins!" "My dear fellow, I never said you did. I only know that on Saturday I was looking over our wall, through an opening there happens to be in the shrubs, and saw you fellows climbing out of the old chap's window; and after you'd gone I noticed something lying in the path, and I hopped over, and picked up this knife." "Give it here; it's mine," said Mugford, holding out his hand. "No fear," answered the other, calmly returning the piece of lost property to his own pocket. "In this case finding's keeping; besides, I'm not sure if I couldn't get a reward for this if I sent it to the right place." The train began to slacken speed as it approached Ronleigh station. "Look here, Noaks," cried Jack Vance, in a fit of desperation, "what are you going to do? You know very well we are not thieves." "I don't know anything of the sort," returned the tormentor, standing up to take his bag off the rack; "all I know is just what I've told you. See here, Mr. Vance," he continued, rounding on Jack with a sudden snarl, "you were good enough some little time ago to make some very caddish remarks about my father; in the future you'd better keep your mouth shut. I owe all three of you a dressing down for things that happened at Chatford, and now you'd better mind your P's and Q's if you don't want to be hauled up for housebreaking." With this parting threat the ex-Philistine left the carriage. Mugford, Jack, and Diggory gazed at one another for a moment with anything but a happy look on their faces. One after another they slowly gathered up their things and stepped out on to the platform. Hardly had they done so when they heard their names called, and turning round beheld the small figure of "Rats" rushing forward to meet them. "Hullo!" he exclaimed. "Old Ally sent me down to get a paper, and I thought you'd come by this train. I say, there's a fine row on up at the school--such a lark; I'll tell you about it as we go along." CHAPTER X. A SCREW LOOSE IN THE SIXTH. For the time being the three friends forgot their own troubles in their eagerness to hear "Rat's" description of certain events which had happened during their absence from Ronleigh. "Look sharp; out with it!" they exclaimed. "What's happened?" "Well," began Rathson, "it all came out through young Bayley acting the fool and spraining his ankle. You know we had the paper-chase this morning, and the hares ran out to Arrow Hill, and back again round by the canal and Birksam Church. Just after we'd rounded the hill, young Bayley jumped off the top of a high hedge, and twisted his foot so badly that he couldn't stand up. As it happened, there was a check just then, and Carton ran forward and told Allingford what had happened. He and Oaks came back, and said the only thing would be to get him to Chatton station, and so home by train. It was awfully decent of those chaps. They carried Bayley all the way, and then Oaks went home with him, and Allingford walked back, and so, of course, they missed half the run. Awfully brickish of them I call it, considering that it was only a kid like Bayley." The Triple Alliance gave a murmur of assent. "Was that what the row's about?" asked Diggory. "Oh, bless you, no; I haven't come to that yet. After he'd seen Oaks and Bayley into the train, old Ally started to walk home. There's a little 'pub' about half a mile out of Chatton called the Black Swan, and he thought he'd call and ask if they'd seen the fellows pass. You know Thurston the prefect, that chap who came to the door when we were having that meeting in the 'old lab.' Well, now, if he and Mouler, and two or three more of that sort, weren't sitting in the taproom, smoking, and drinking beer, and having a regular high old time. They'd lagged behind on purpose. Of course Allingford kicked them all out, and he and 'Thirsty' had a frightful row. They say the big chaps want to hush the matter up as far as they can, and not report it to old Denson, for fear he'd make it an excuse to put a stop to paper-chasing. Ally slanged Thurston right and left, and told him that if he chose to drink beer in a low 'pub' with the biggest blackguards in the school, he needn't expect that the fellows in the Sixth would have anything to do with him, and that he ought to send in his resignation as a prefect." On entering the school buildings, our three friends were convinced of the truth of their comrade's story, and on their way to the schoolroom the question was repeated at least half a dozen times--"Have you heard about old 'Thirsty' being cobbed in the Black Swan?" Diggory thought of the conversation he had overheard in Acton's study, and mentioned it to Carton. "Yes," answered the latter. "Big Fletcher's a beast. I know Thurston's very chummy with him, but I don't see that's got much to do with it. My brother, who left last term, said that 'Thirsty' used to be rather a jolly chap, only he's got a fearful temper when he's crossed. Most of the chaps like him as a prefect, because as long as you don't interfere with him he doesn't seem to care much what any one does. The real thing is he's going to the dogs, and, as Allingford says, he ought to resign." Away in one of the Sixth Form studies the subject of their conversation was sitting with his hands in his pockets, frowning at the fire. He was roused from his reverie by some one putting his head round the corner of the door and exclaiming,-- "Hullo, 'Thirsty!'" "Hullo, Fletcher! where on earth have you been all the evening?" The new-comer was tall and lanky; he had a sharp, foxy-looking face, with thin, straight lips, and two deep lines which looked almost like scars between the eyebrows. He shut the door, and dragging forward a chair, sat down with his feet on the fender, and commenced warming his

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