“You do know,” said I, “and I want to know why.”

He coloured up, and made as though he would leave room. But my blood was up, and I stepped across door.

“Tell me this,” I said. “Have these fellows cut on purpose or no?”

“However should—”

“You do know. Are they cutting me or no?”

He flushed up again, and then said hurriedly—

“Yes, we are!”

Story 1.

Chapter Two.

I am Beaten.