"Oh, only some chaps formed a sort of secret society in the place. Kind
of Vehmgericht, you know. If they got their knife into any one, he
usually got beans, and could never find out where they came from. At
first, as a matter of fact, the thing was quite a philanthropical
concern. There used to be a good deal of bullying in the place then--at
least, in some of the houses--and, as the prefects couldn't or wouldn't
stop it, some fellows started this League."

"Did it work?"

"Work! By Jove, I should think it did. Chaps who previously couldn't
get through the day without making some wretched kid's life not worth
living used to go about as nervous as cats, looking over their
shoulders every other second. There was one man in particular, a chap
called Leigh. He was hauled out of bed one night, blindfolded, and
ducked in a cold bath. He was in the School House."

"Why did the League bust up?"

"Well, partly because the fellows left, but chiefly because they didn't
stick to the philanthropist idea. If anybody did anything they didn't
like, they used to go for him. At last they put their foot into it
badly. A chap called Robinson--in this house by the way--offended them
in some way, and one morning he was found tied up in the bath, up to
his neck in cold water. Apparently he'd been there about an hour. He
got pneumonia, and almost died, and then the authorities began to get
going. Robinson thought he had recognised the voice of one of the
chaps--I forget his name. The chap was had up by the Old Man, and gave
the show away entirely. About a dozen fellows were sacked, clean off