The headmaster rose.

"Perhaps you had better go at once, Oakes," he said. "This is becoming
serious. That place is a positive menace to the community. I shall put
it out of bounds tomorrow morning."

And when Dunstable and Linton, pale but cheerful, made their way--slowly,
as befitted convalescents--to Cook's two days afterwards, they had to sit
on the counter. All the other seats were occupied.




THE GUARDIAN


In his Sunday suit (with ten shillings in specie in the right-hand
trouser pocket) and a brand-new bowler hat, the youngest of the
Shearnes, Thomas Beauchamp Algernon, was being launched by the
combined strength of the family on his public-school career. It was a
solemn moment. The landscape was dotted with relatives--here a small
sister, awed by the occasion into refraining from insult; there an
aunt, vaguely admonitory. "Well, Tom," said Mr. Shearne, "you'll soon
be off now. You're sure to like Eckleton. Remember to cultivate your
bowling. Everyone can bat nowadays. And play forward, not outside. The
outsides get most of the fun, certainly, but then if you're a forward,
you've got eight chances of getting into a team."

"All right, father."