crow-like attitude, his mottled face screwed into an expression of
quizzical amiability, and his daily bottle sticking obtrusively from the
inside lining of his old coat. The lads scattered sheepishly.

'Peterson,' he said, blinking his pale lashes a dozen times in rapid
succession, 'the boy who thinks he can outwit his dear master is an
egotist, and egotism, Peterson, is the thing which keeps us from
profiting by the experiences of other fools.'

'I dunno what yer talkin' about,' answered Peter son, with heavy
resentment.

Mr. Ham blinked again for nearly half a minute.

'Of course not,' he said, 'of course not, my boy.' Then he turned to Dick
and Ted with quiet courtesy. 'Good morning, Richard. Good morning,
Edward.'

Ted, who was painfully conscious of the large ink-splashes on the
master's white trousers, kicked awkwardly at a buried stone, but Dick
replied cheerily enough.

The attitude of the master throughout that morning was quite inexplicable
to the scholars; he made no allusion whatever to the crimes of which Dick
and Ted had been guilty, and gave no hint that he harboured any
intentions that were not entirely generous and friendly. The two
culprits, working with quite astounding assiduity, were beset with
conflicting emotions. Dick, who had a vague sort of insight into the
master's character, was prepared for the worst, and yet not blind to the
possibility of a free pardon. Ted, after the first hour, was joyous and