"You are only adding to your wrong conduct, Campbell," said Mr Prichard very gravely. "It is bad enough for you to take unfair advantage of your school-fellows; but you make the whole matter ten times worse by telling a deliberate falsehood. The book is yours. Your name is in it."
In vain Harry protested his innocence; Mr Prichard remained inexorable.
"You will come with me to Dr Palmer to-morrow," and putting the book into his pocket, he stalked from the room.
CHAPTER VII.
A BOY FIGHT AT SCHOOL.
Lynch law—At bay—Bully Warburton—Single combat—The deciding round—Harry is victorious.
If Harry felt heavy-hearted when he started for home that afternoon, what must he have felt now? Deeper than ever he was plunged in the trouble from which he knew not how to extricate himself. His thoughts, however, soon flew to his mother. He knew that there he would find comfort, that there, at least, he would be believed. So carefully wiping away all traces of his tears, and putting on as brave a face as he could, he strapped his books together, and ran down the broad stone stairs into the lobby.
For some time, however, he could not find his cap. It did not need much reflection to tell him what this meant or foreboded. It was the beginning of persecution. But after rumaging about among the boxes kept in the lobby, his patience was at length rewarded. There, in a corner, was the missing cap; but torn and dirty and much injured. Nothing daunted, he cleaned it as well as he could, and, putting it on, emerged into the play-ground.
Just as he was fairly in the open, walking quickly towards the gates, and not looking about him, he heard a burst of voices that bore no pleasant meaning; and then a body of tennis-balls flew all round him—some hitting him smartly, some whizzing within an ace of him.