Mr. Shane still remained upon the floor. He was engaged in gathering together the remnants of his grammar. Perhaps a pot of paste, with patient manipulation, might restore it yet. He would give himself a great deal of labour to avoid the expenditure of another half-crown; perhaps he had not another half-crown to spend. "What's the row?" asked Bertie, seeing Mr. Shane engaged in gathering up the fragmentary leaves. They told him. "I'm going out," said Bailey, "and I should like to see anybody stop me. I say, Mr. Shane, I want to go down to the village." Mr. Shane repeated his stock phrase. "Mrs. Fletcher said no one was to go out while it rained." He had collected all the remnants of his grammar, and was rising with them in his hand. "Give me hold!" exclaimed Bertie; and he snatched what was left of the book out of the usher's hands. "Bailey!" cried Mr. Shane. "Look here, I want to go down to the village. I suppose I may, mayn't I?" "Mrs. Fletcher said no one was to go out if it rained," stammered Mr. Shane. "If you don't let me go, I'll burn this rubbish!" Bertie flourished the ruined grammar in the tutor's face. Mr. Shane made a dart to recover his property; but Bertie was too quick for him, and sprang aside beyond his reach. It is not improbable that if it had come to a tussle Mr. Shane would have got the worst of it. "Who's got a match?" asked Bertie. Some one produced half a dozen. "Will you let me go?" "Don't burn it," said Mr. Shane. "It cost me half a crown; I only bought it last week." "Then let me go." "What'll Mrs. Fletcher say?" "How's she to know unless you tell her? I'll be back before tea. I don't care if it cost you a hundred half-crowns, I'll burn it. Make up your mind. Is it going to cost you half a crown to keep me in?" Bertie struck a match. Mr. Shane attempted to rush forward to put it out, but some of the boys held him back. His heart went out to his book as though it were a child. "If I let you go, you promise me to be back within half an hour? I don't know what Mrs. Fletcher will say if she should hear of it;--and don't get wet." "I'll promise you fast enough. Mrs. Fletcher won't hear of it; and what if she does? She can't eat you. You needn't be afraid of my getting wet." "I shan't let anybody else go." "Oh yes, you will! You'll let Griffin and Ellis go; you don't think I'm going all that way alone?" "And me!" cried Edgar Wheeler. Pretty nearly all the other boys joined him in the cry. "I am not going to have all you fellows coming with me," announced Bertie. "Wheeler can come; but as for the rest of you, you can stay at home and go to bed--that's the best place for little chaps like you. Now then, Shane, look alive; is it going to cost you half a crown, or isn't it?"