He walked towards him, carrying the book. At two yards range he fired
it in. It hit Burge with some force in the waistcoat, and there was a
pause while he collected his wind.

Then the thing may be said to have begun.

Yes, said Burge, interrogated on the point five minutes later, he
_had_ had enough.

"Good," said Thomas pleasantly. "Want a handkerchief?"

That evening he wrote to his mother and, thanking her for kind
inquiries, stated that he was not being bullied. He added, also in
answer to inquiries, that he had not been tossed in a blanket, and
that--so far--no Hulking Senior (with scowl) had let him down from the
dormitory window after midnight by a sheet, in order that he might
procure gin from the local public-house. As far as he could gather,
the seniors were mostly teetotallers. Yes, he had seen Spencer several
times. He did not add that he had seen him from a distance.

* * * * *

"I'm so glad I asked Mrs. Davy to get her nephew to look after Tom,"
said Mrs. Shearne, concluding the reading of the epistle at breakfast.
"It makes such a difference to a new boy having somebody to protect
him at first."

"Only drawback is," said his eldest brother gloomily--"won't get cheek
knocked out of him. Tom's kid wh'ought get'sheadsmacked reg'ly. Be no
holding him."