CHAPTER XLIX
THE PETITION--WHAT BEFELL IT
The master put the questions--the questions which formed so strong anindictment against himself--with grim solemnity. Paul scarcely knew howto answer him, so was silent.
"Well?" persisted Mr. Weevil.
"I must say that at one time I was suspicious of you, sir. I thought youwere in league with traitors against your country--against England."
"When did your opinion alter?"
"When I heard you in the cave appealing to Zuker to give up his scheme;when I heard you telling him that the hand of a Higher than man was init. Then I remembered that however stern you had been to others, you hadbeen kind and tender to Hibbert, and it slowly dawned upon me that itwas for poor Hibbert's sake you kept in with Zuker, that for his sakeyou were playing a part you did not care for."
"Thank you. I'm glad you've done me justice in your own mind, Percival,"answered the master, with more feeling than he was in the habit ofdisplaying. "You have guessed my motive precisely. It was for Hibbert'ssake--the son of the sister I loved--that I kept on friendly terms withZuker. But my duty to Hibbert--my love for him--did not make me blind tothe interests of my country. All along I have been in communication withthe Moncriefs. It was I who first communicated with Mr. Henry Moncrief,in cipher, the information of Zuker's arrival in England. It wasarranged, however, that Zuker was to be allowed to develop his plans,along with his confederates, before any action was taken to checkmatehim. The Admiralty wished to obtain complete information of all thedetails of the scheme, and I alone was in the position of giving itthem. First of all, however, I made my terms with the Admiralty. Theywere these: When Zuker's plans were developed, they were at liberty totake what action they pleased to counteract those plans, and arrest anyaccomplice who might be engaged in work with Zuker, but I made thisproviso, that no step should be taken to arrest Zuker himself, withoutmy knowledge and sanction. Furthermore, that in return for theinformation I was able to furnish as to every detail of the plot, I wasto be permitted in the last resort to warn Zuker, so that he mightescape to his native country, if he cared to.
"In that interview you overheard, I made my first strong appeal to him.Unfortunately it was not successful, and worse than that, he becamesuspicious of me. The death of dear little Hibbert took away the onlylink that bound me to Zuker. One or two of his confederates werearrested, and he himself became conscious that the net was closing roundhimself. Your appearance in his hiding-place must have brought that hometo him. What happened after that I can only guess. I have twotheories--the first, that, in escaping by the river, he might have takenrefuge for a time on the old battleship, and was in hiding at the timewhen the fire broke out. The other theory is that, recognizing that hisschemes had been a complete failure, he deliberately set fire to theship, and perished in the flames. He who knows the motives as well asthe actions of all men, will alone know which of these theories is theright one. God be merciful to him, as to me, miserable sinner."
Mr. Weevil stood with bowed head. And as he breathed, thus reverently,the response he had so often heard, Paul felt his mother's hand stealinginto his, as it had so often stolen into it in the village church indays gone by, when the good vicar read the Litany, and prayed fordeliverance from "lightning and tempest, from plague, pestilence, andfamine; from battle and murder, and from sudden death." The man who hadbrought about "the sudden death" of his father, had ended his withtragic swiftness, and now stood before the Judge of all. The time forthe last great trial had come for Israel Zuker.
"Before Him--before the Judge of all men," said Mr. Weevil, at lengthbreaking the silence, "I hope to justify myself for what I have done, aswell as for what I have left undone, but in the meantime I shall neverforget the part that you have played, Percival. It is true, profoundlytrue, that no good deed is ever lost. Your kindness to Hibbert will everbe a sacred memory to me. Good-night, Percival, and God bless you."
"Good-night sir."
And Paul, with his heart very full, turned from the room.
When Paul went out, Mr. Weevil did not retire to rest. He was one ofthose men who require very little sleep. He unlocked a drawer in hisdesk, and took from it several loose sheets of paper, with entries onthem. These he regarded closely for a moment or two, then leanedreflectively back in his chair, with eyes closed. Then he looked at thepages again, together with some memoranda jotted on a separate sheet ofpaper. His scrutiny ended, he put them back into the drawer, and lockedthem up again.
Having done this, he took up a sheet of foolscap, on which was written,in the form of a petition, the resolution of the Fifth calling upon Mr.Weevil to expel Percival from Garside. To this petition were attachedthe names of the mover and seconder of the resolution--Stanley Moncriefand Parfitt--followed by the names of the other boys in the Form, withthe exception of Waterman.
Mr. Weevil had not yet answered this unusual petition, so he took up apen and paper and wrote:
"Mr. Weevil's compliments, and he will be pleased to meet the Fifth, andgo into their petition to-morrow. As so delicate a matter cannot bediscussed before the whole school, the form will return to theclass-room, where the master will come to them at the end of the day'swork. One last proviso, as it is the conduct of Percival which has beenimpugned, it will, of course, be necessary for him to be present at theinquiry, so that he may be heard in his own defence."
This note he folded up, placed in an envelope, and directed to Hasluck,the head of the Form. The following morning it was delivered to Hasluckby Bax, the porter. Having read it, Hasluck passed it round the Form.Waterman was next to Percival. Instead of passing it to him, he justglanced at it and passed it back to Parfitt with a yawn.
"Doesn't interest me. More in your line, Parfitt."
Waterman, in this dexterous manner, escaped the painful duty of passingon a note for which he was in no way responsible.
As he afterwards said, "he liked to see others troubling over their ownunderhand business."
Parfitt bit his lip, then, without a word, handed it to Paul. Paul readit. He had no difficulty in understanding its meaning. Harry had toldhim about the meeting that had been held about him. This letter was theresult of it.
Adopting Parfitt's own tactics, he handed it back without a word, but hecould not help stealing a glance at Stanley. His eyes were heavy, asthough from want of sleep. He looked quite haggard and ill. He kept hiseyes away from Paul, as though uncertain as to himself. He looked verymiserable, and, indeed, he was even more miserable than he looked.
At the close of school that day, the Fifth passed back to theirclass-room. Soon after, Mr. Weevil entered. He looked cold, stern,implacable--a different man from the one Paul had seen the previousnight speaking in tremulous tones about Hibbert. Those little humantraits seemed to have vanished with the night. He was no longer the man,but the judge.
"Step forward, Percival," he said briefly.
Paul stepped forward.
"You know the charge against you?"
"No, sir; I've come to hear."
"The charge is in this petition," said the master, taking up thepetition, which he unfolded and placed on the desk. "I needn't read it,but I can tell you briefly what the charge is. The charge is that youconnived with the boys of a rival college--St. Bede's--to have the flag,which is held in so much honour and esteem here, stolen from the tower."
"Yes, sir. Anything more?" asked Paul, as the master paused and glanceddown at the petition.
"The petition further alleges that having placed this dishonour on theschool, you connived with the enemy to keep it by them till it suitedyour time and purpose, and that then you arranged for its return."
"Time and purpose?" repeated Paul. "What purpose?"
"What purpose?" repeated the master, glancing again at the petition. "Itis clearly enough set forth. Listen. 'Percival had made enemies of hisForm, and had looked for his friends at St. Bede's. His object ingetting back the flag was to try to regain at one stroke some of hislost popularity.'
Is that clear enough?"
"Quite clear, sir. What followed?"
"A resolution was moved and carried, with only one dissentient, that youshould be expelled from the school."
"Who--who moved the resolution?" asked Percival, with an effort.
"Is it worth while my giving names?"
"I would like to know, sir, if you would be kind enough."
Mr. Weevil glanced at the names. He did not answer. The silence wasbroken by Stanley.
"I moved the resolution, Percival--Paul!" he cried, in a voice thatseemed to be choking him. "I did you an injustice before all the Form. Inow ask your pardon before all the Form. I'm ashamed of myself--ashamedthat I so degraded myself as to move that resolution. My eyes were shut.Now they're open. I've been groping about in the dark. Now I'm in thelight. I was a fool ever to doubt you, but appearances were so againstyou. It was your turning away from Wyndham at the gravel-pits that sorankled in my mind, and--and your friendly meetings with him after. Idid not know----"
"Stop! Not quite so fast!" commanded Mr. Weevil. Stanley had poured outat a feverish rate the words that had been burning at his heartthroughout the whole of the night and day. "Do I understand that you,Moncrief major, who proposed this resolution, now wish to withdraw it?"
"Yes, sir; every word of it. I have wronged Percival--deeply wrongedhim, and before all the Form I ask his pardon."
Paul's heart leapt with joy. He cared little what the others mightthink. Stanley had come round of his own accord. He had voluntarilyasked his pardon. Paul grasped the hand stretched out to him.
"I see that it was you, Parfitt, who seconded this resolution, askingthat Percival should be expelled from the school. Is it your wish towithdraw also?" asked the master.
"Certainly not," said Parfitt indignantly. "I'm not going to turn tailbecause Moncrief has. If Moncrief has sold me, I'm not going to sell allthe other fellows who signed that petition."
A murmur of approval came from "the other fellows," except Waterman. Hegreeted it with the customary yawn.
"You still hold to your wish that Percival should be expelled fromGarside?" asked Mr. Weevil.
"Yes, sir."
"You understand that expelling a scholar from Garside is a very seriousmatter. It is a grave stigma placed on him at the commencement of hiscareer--a stigma which clings to him when he goes from school into thesterner battle of life. I'm bound to impress this upon you, Parfitt, sothat you may understand the gravity of the step you wish me to take."
"I understand, sir. We all understand."
"And you decline to do what Moncrief has done--withdraw from thepetition?"
"Yes, sir. We can't stand Percival any longer."
"Hear! hear!" from Newall.
Suddenly, to the astonishment of the Form, the master opened the deskbefore him, and drew from it a book.
"You know this book?" he demanded.
Know it? They knew it but too well. It was the dreaded Black Book.
CHAPTER L
FOUND OUT
Why had the master produced the Black Book?
What was it to do with the question whether Percival should or shouldnot be expelled?
"You are wondering why I produce the Black Book," said the masterslowly, as though reading their thoughts. "I will explain--we have neveryet discovered who tore out the leaves from this book. It occurred to methat before taking the step of expelling Percival from the school, itwould be as well to make one more effort to find out who is the culprit.
"A few weeks ago, I received an anonymous letter suggesting thatPercival should be questioned as to what he was doing on the night thatpart of the Black Book, and other documents, disappeared from my desk.As a rule, I take no heed of anonymous communications. The testimony ofany one who is ashamed to put his name to a letter is, as a rule,worthless. But I was keenly interested in trying to discover who theculprit was who opened my desk, and I thought it just possible that if Icould only find out the writer of this anonymous letter, it might leadto other discoveries which would throw light upon the theft of mynotes."
The boys listened intently. What did it mean? Was yet another and moreserious charge to be made against Percival?
"The letter was in a disguised hand, like most anonymous letters," themaster proceeded; "but a master becomes a bit of an expert inhandwriting, so, with the help of Mr. Travers here, the master of yourForm, I was not long in finding out who wrote the anonymous letter. Itwas written by Parfitt."
The accusation was made slowly, deliberately, as by one who makes sureof his facts before speaking. It fell as a bomb in the midst of thelistening boys. Parfitt turned to an ashen hue, and muttered somethingbetween his teeth.
"Speak up, sir! Please not to mutter," commanded Mr. Weevil, turning toParfitt. "Do you deny that this letter"--he held up the anonymousletter, with its cramped, disguised handwriting--"is the work of yourhand?"
Parfitt held up his head, and put on a bold front.
"No, sir; I don't deny it. That letter was written by me. As there wereother things coming out against Percival, I thought it only right thatyou should make some inquiry into what he was doing on the night whenthe pages were torn from the Black Book. I did not want to push myselfforward. I thought the inquiry would be better made by you; but as nosteps seem to have been taken to find out what Percival did, I don't seewhy I should keep back what I know any longer."
"Well, what is it? What do you know? I am here to learn all I can."
"Well, sir, on the night that the pages were torn from the Black Book, Isaw Percival get out of bed, slip into some of his things, and out ofthe dormitory. I saw him steal along the corridor, for what purpose Icouldn't guess. I made a pretty good guess the next day."
"Your guess was that Percival opened my desk, and stole the papers?"
"I believe he did, sir. For what else could he have stolen from thedormitory in the dead of night?"
"Well, but what could be his purpose? Can you explain that?"
"Oh, that's easy enough explained. There were entries against himselfand his friend Moncrief in the book. A serious one had been made againstMoncrief that very afternoon, for which, you will remember, sir, he wassent to Dormitory X."
"I remember--quite well," said the master. "Well, Percival, what haveyou to say against this last charge?"
"Only that it is as false as the other."
"Did you leave your dormitory that night?"
"Yes, sir; I don't deny that. I did leave my room, but not to steal. Ileft it to go to Moncrief in Dormitory X. I thought the punishment toosevere, sir, if you'll pardon me for saying so, so I thought that Iwould keep him company. It was wrong of me, I know; but I did not giveit much thought at the time."
"And I can confirm every word that Percival has said!" exclaimedStanley. "He came to me that night--to Dormitory X."
"Pshaw!" cried Newall, taking up Parfitt's case. "How could he get toyou through the locked door?"
"He didn't get through the door. He came along the parapet, and gotthrough the dormer window."
Blank amazement fell on the group.
"It's all very well to say that. Any one could say that," cried Parfitt;"but we want something better than that. We want proof!"
"If you won't take Moncrief's word, I think I can prove it by Mr.Weevil," said Paul, turning to the master. "As I passed by the window ofyour room, sir, I took the liberty of peeping in. I saw you discussingsome plans with a friend. Perhaps you can recall it, sir?"
Mr. Weevil's mind had gone back to that night. He knew well enough towhom Paul was referring thus delicately as his friend--Zuker.
"Percival is right in every particular, but"--he broke off, as thoughsuddenly recalling something--"there is one thing I ought to say.Fancying I heard a noise in Dormitory X that night, I paid it a visit,but found nobody there, except Moncrief, and he seemed fast asleep."
Parfitt, who had been looking glum, brightened up at this again.
"Seemed, sir," repeated Stanley, with a smile; "but I was
just about aswide awake as I am now, and Percival was--under the bed."
There was a titter of laughter at this piece of information. The ghostof a smile played across the stern face of Mr. Weevil.
"I think Percival has made it perfectly clear as to where he was thatnight. You see that he is perfectly innocent of the charge broughtagainst him by Parfitt; so we are thrown back into precisely theposition we were in before. We have still to find out who is the realculprit--who it was opened my desk that night. As Parfitt has failed inhis purpose, let us put our heads together and see if we can get alittle nearer the truth. I will try to reconstruct the case for you, asthe French say. Who was the culprit? What was his motive? His motive wasto get possession of certain pieces of paper in my desk which gavevaluable information for a prize competition which was taking placeamongst the seniors--the prize, that is to say, to be given by AdmiralTalbot for the best essay on 'The Invasion of Great Britain.' He did notwant the Black Book. That would give him no assistance in his essay; butwhat he wanted was to throw suspicion on a certain boy--also acompetitor for the prize--who was absent from his dormitory that night.He did this by removing the leaf, amongst others, which referred to theboy himself and the detention of his friend in the Punishment Dormitory.Am I clear?"
The Form were following Mr. Weevil so closely that they could onlymurmur an assent.
"I have told you about the anonymous letter," continued Mr. Weevil, "andthe conclusion I had arrived at by the help of Mr. Travers. You haveseen that that conclusion is correct, for Parfitt has himself admittedit. So much is clear. Now follow me a little farther. Not long afterreceiving this anonymous letter, some of the competitors began to sendin their essays for the Talbot prize. Among others was one fromParfitt."
A profound silence fell on the room as the master once more pronouncedthat name. Every eye was turned to Parfitt, who was still doing his bestto put on a bold face.
"It was a remarkably clever piece of work and would assuredly have wonthe prize. It was too clever, in fact. It contained information whichastonished me--information which could not be obtained from the schoollibrary. It was information, in fact, such as I myself had obtainedafter special research, and which had been embodied in the notes thathad been stolen from my desk."
"You mean to say that I am the thief--that I stole your notes!"blustered Parfitt.
"Silence, sir!" came the stern voice of the master. "Have the courtesyto hear me to the end. I have but little more to add, and then I shallbe only too pleased to hear anything you may have to say in yourdefence. The way in which the information was used was so ingenious thatit would have been quite impossible to declare that the writer of thisessay was the culprit. I was quite certain of it in my own mind, but itneeded additional proof. How to get it was the next point. Inconsultation with Mr. Travers here, a speedy decision was come to. Itwas of the utmost importance that the innocent should be cleared; theguilty punished. A locksmith was called in on the next half-holiday.Parfitt's box was opened, its contents examined. At the bottom wediscovered the missing notes. The pages from the Black Book, as beinguseless, had been destroyed. The same fate would doubtless have followedmy notes, so soon as the result of the competition was known. I took thenotes from the box. A facsimile was put in their place. Here are theoriginals."
He held up the notes. All heads were eagerly craned forward to look atthem.
"These are the originals," repeated the master, when the sensationcaused by their production had abated. "I doubt not the facsimiles towhich I have referred will still be found in Parfitt's box. What Isuggest, therefore, is that he hand over his key to Hasluck, the head ofthis Form, that the porter should then bring the box to this room, andthat it be opened in the presence of all of you. We shall then see ifthe facsimiles are still there."
Not a word fell from Parfitt's lips in answer to this appeal. At thatmoment he was passing through one of the most terrible ordeals a boy canpass through. The silence in the room became painful.
"I hope it won't be needful to call in the locksmith again, Parfitt,"said the master. Then in a burst of agony came from the wretched boy'slips:
"You needn't open the box. I--I did it."
He dropped to the form, and covered his ashen face with his hands. Thencame the master's voice again, with the solemnity of a judge pronouncingsentence:
"I did not wish to go through this ignominy, Parfitt, before the wholeschool. That is the reason I confined the inquiry to your Form and thisroom. Everything has been done to spare your feelings, though I cannothelp saying that you do not seem to have cared very much for thefeelings of others. I am sorry to say that the sentence you wishedpassed on Percival must be passed on yourself. You can no longer remaina scholar at Garside."
Parfitt knew well enough what that meant--it was a sentence ofexpulsion. He staggered to his feet, and was about to pass out without aword, when the voice of Paul brought him to a standstill.
"I do not mind what has been said against me--indeed, I don't!"exclaimed Paul; "we've all made mistakes; so please don't go so far withParfitt. Don't expel him. Give him another chance!"
Parfitt could scarcely believe his ears. The boy whom he had sought toexpel was taking his part--pleading that he might remain.
"It is generous of you to plead for him, but after what has happened,how is it possible for him to remain?" said the master.
Paul scarcely knew how to answer; but as he stood nonplussed a mist rosein the room, and as the mist cleared he saw a garden, with adelicate-faced boy, lying in an invalid chair, as though asleep. Alittle wren had perched itself upon his shoulder.
"Let him stay for--for Hibbert's sake," came in a gulp.
The master turned his head for a moment. When he once more faced theboys, the hard light had vanished from the blinking eyes, and a softerlight shone there.
"What has happened has not gone beyond this room. The facts, so far,have not been disclosed to the whole school," he said. "It may not,perhaps, be necessary. I will see what can be done in consultation withmy colleagues. I trust it may be possible for us to respond toPercival's generous appeal. Attention! Half-turn! March!"
And the boys filed slowly from the class-room.
* * * * *
Vacation at last!
To Paul the term through which he had passed was the most memorable inhis school life, as it was, perhaps, the most memorable in the historyof the school. He spent a week with the good mother whom he loved, andwho so loved him. He sat again in the old church with her, and heardagain the vicar's fervent voice in the Litany:
"From lightning and tempest; from plague, pestilence, and famine; frombattle and murder, and from sudden death."
In the days gone by he used to wonder how it was that his mother's handused to tremble in his when those solemn words echoed in the church. Nowhe understood, as he knelt once more by her dear side--none better. Thelast term at Garside had taught him a lesson which would never be erasedfrom his mind so long as life lasted.
At the end of the week he went to Redmead, in response to the invitationwhich Mr. Walter Moncrief had sent him in that letter to Garside whichhad caused him such heart-burning. Stanley was there to meet him. Theold friendship between them was resumed. The clouds had passed away,leaving them the better, the stronger--they were once more in thesunshine.
Mr. Moncrief had learnt all that had happened at Garside. Harryentertained them at tea-time with his and Plunger's adventures asmembers of the Mystic Order of Beetles, and his sister nearly had a fitof apoplexy as he described Plunger crawling on hands and knees roundthe ring while the Mystic Brethren proceeded to initiate him as "abrother."
Stanley was the only one who was not infected with Connie's mirth. Heremained so serious amid the general merriment that Harry suddenlybrought down his hand upon his shoulder and in a tragic voice declaimedthe incantation which had made so remarkable an impression upon Plunger:
"Beetles of the Mystic Band, Wind we round thee hand in hand,
"
and so on.
"No, we're not going to send Stan to the Realms of Creepy-Crawley,"smiled Connie, putting her arm through her cousin's with an air ofpossession as Harry ended:
"We don't mind Mr. Plunger going there. He'd be quite at home; but notStan."
Stanley smiled, but soon relapsed into his former gravity.
"A penny for your thoughts, Stan!" said Mrs. Moncrief.
"Oh, I was only thinking of one of the Beetles--Wyndham. I was wonderingwhether we should see anything of him during the vac."
"Would you like to meet him?" asked Mr. Moncrief.
"Very much."
Paul said nothing; but he felt a keen sense of gratification at thewords that fell from Stanley. It showed that all animosity towardsWyndham had completely vanished, and that he was anxious to meet himagain, not as an enemy, but on a footing of friendship.
Mr. Moncrief was absent for a good part of the next day. On the dayfollowing he announced that he was going to take them for a drive in thewagonette. They were, of course, anxious to know where.
"Well, Harry has asked me once or twice whether we couldn't travel oversome of the ground over which Paul travelled on the night when he brokein upon us here at the end of his last vacation. I think this is themost favourable opportunity we shall have to carry out his suggestion,if you're all agreeable."
Of course they were agreeable. So, early the next morning, the wagonettecame to the door, and the little party, in the best of spirits, startedon the drive.
No contrast could have been greater than the contrast between thatmorning of bright sunshine and the night when Paul started from Redmeadwith Mr. Moncrief. On that never-to-be-forgotten night danger seemed tobe lurking in every hedgerow. The shadows lay thickly across theirpathway, and the sight of home had never been so dear to Paul as when heat length came in sight of it that night. How different it all seemed inthe bright sunshine!
By an indirect route they came to the common over which Paul had riddenon Falcon. They stopped at the spot where Zuker and his confederate hadseized Falcon's bridle. Then they turned back, and paused once morewhere the brave horse had staggered and fallen. Paul had not seen theplace since, and as they reached it, he lived once again through theincidents of those few terrible moments when the life-blood of Falconwas slowly oozing away. He could see it lying there; he could see thecrimson stream running from its flank, the look of pathos in its eyes asit turned to him.
"I think we will drive on," said Mr. Moncrief gently. "We owe a gooddeal to Falcon, so I mean to have a little memorial to his memory someday--to the memory of a noble horse. There are some animals, it seems tome, who are as much entitled to it as human beings."
A great surprise was in store for them when they reached the well downwhich Paul had hidden from his pursuers. Wyndham was standing there,just as he had stood on the night when he had covered Paul's retreat!
Then it turned out that Mr. Moncrief had arranged this little surpriseon the previous day; that he had visited Wyndham, and appointed to meethim at the well. To the delight of the boys, the arrangement went stillfurther--Wyndham was to return with them, and spend a few days atRedmead.
Stanley was one of the first to give him a hearty greeting.
"You must be my friend as well as Paul's," he said earnestly, as heshook him by the hand.
"There's no one, I suppose, who would like to repeat Paul's experiencein the well?" smiled Mr. Moncrief, when the excitement of the meetinghad cooled down.
The invitation, it is unnecessary to say, was "declined with thanks."
The happy party returned to Redmead. When the evening came on, theblinds drawn, the lamps lit, and the friends were all together, Paulcould not help thinking there was just one thing missing to complete theday's experience.
"When I came here that night and listened at the door, you weresinging," he said.
"Singing what?" asked Mrs. Moncrief.
"'Now the day is over.'"
"Happy thought! Let us have it again!" exclaimed Mr. Moncrief.
Mrs. Moncrief went to the piano, and heartily they sang:
"Now the day is over, Night is drawing nigh, Shadows of the evening Steal across the sky.
Through the long night watches, May Thine angels spread Their white wings above me, Watching round my bed."
Of a surety that fervent appeal had been answered. God had indeedguarded the boys through the "long night watches" at school, and throughmuch trial and temptation had brought them safely together under thesame hospitable roof.
THE END
* * * * *
A SERIES OF EXCELLENT STORIES
Full of incident and adventure, which will be read with keen interestand enjoyment.
_Each with a distinctive Coloured Jacket, Coloured Frontispiece andother Illustrations. In Large Crown 8vo, cloth gilt._
"HONOUR BRIGHT" (David Chester's Motto) _By H. ESCOTT-INMAN_
THE SECOND FORM MASTER OF ST. CYRIL'S _By H. ESCOTT-INMAN_
LOYAL AND TRUE _By M. B. MANWELL_
THE BOYS OF MONK'S HAROLD _By J. HARWOOD PANTING_
CLIVE OF CLAIR COLLEGE _By HARRY HUNTINGDON_
THE HERO OF GARSIDE SCHOOL _By HARRY HUNTINGDON_
THE TWO RUNAWAYS _By HARRY HUNTINGDON_
AN UPHILL GAME _By HARRY HUNTINGDON_
PUBLISHED BY FREDERICK WARNE & CO., LTD. LONDON AND NEW YORK
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