"Why do you do that, Mr. St. John?"
"To study them at leisure. What's the matter?"
"My head is beginning to ache."
"No wonder, with, all this talking. I'm off. Good-bye. Get to sleep as fast as you can."
The boys were in the garden and round the gate still, when he went down.
"Oh, if you please, sir, is he half killed? Edwin Wilberforce says so."
"No, he is not half killed," responded Mr. St. John. "But he wants quiet, and you must disperse, that he may have it."
"My brother, the senior boy, says he must have fallen down from vexation, because his tricks came out," cried Prattleton junior.
Mr. St. John ran his eyes over the assemblage. "What tricks?"
"He has been pawning the gold medal, Mr. St. John," cried Cookesley, the second senior of the school. "Aultane junior has told the dean: Bright Vaughan heard him."