Luck was with them. They reached the school as the great bell in the Chapel struck six. Five minutes later, after a hasty wash and brush-up in their rooms, they were in the great library, shaking hands with the Doctor and Mrs. Forester and with masters and boys. The three, more closely united than ever by their sense of sharing a dangerous secret, kept together during chapel, and directly after were for making off to Jimmie’s room, when Sandy Maclaren, looking wonderfully handsome and “swagger” in his town clothes, laid a heavy hand on Kit’s shoulder. “Not so fast, boy. The Doctor wants to see you instanter at the Rectory.” Kit heaved a sigh in mock heroics. “Hail, blithe spirits,” he lamented, murdering his quotation, “hail and farewell.” The boys pressed his hands heartily. “Is it a caning, Sandy?” they asked. “Well, I rather think so,” answered Maclaren, with a smile. “You weren’t very keen not to distinguish between Barney Clayton and Mr. Roylston.” “They were both butting in,” protested Kit. “Well, cut along now. And you two report to Bill, he’s looking for you.” Kit found the Doctor in his comfortable study at the Rectory, standing before a glowing log fire, with his swallow-tails spread to the blaze. “Ah, Christopher,” the Head Master exclaimed, shaking hands with the culprit, “I’m glad to see you.” “Thank you, sir. Maclaren said you wanted to see me particularly?” “I do, most particularly. Take off your coat.” Kit backed a little. “But, sir——” “Yes, my boy, I dare say you have full and ample explanations, but I am quite sure they will not impress me. I know that you were but one of many in this fracas, and that it is your misfortune—shall I say?—rather than your fault that your particular missile took unfortunate effect. But we must all suffer at times for our mistakes, perhaps a little unjustly. The moment has struck when you must suffer too. The sooner we get at this business the sooner it will be over.” “Very good, sir,” said Kit, and silently removed his coat. And then the Doctor took a familiar implement of stout old hickory from a corner, and swished him soundly. Those were the happy days when debts against school discipline were so quickly and effectively liquidated. Kit bore no grudge to the Doctor, and comparatively little to Mr. Roylston. “It was worth it,” he confessed to Jimmie and Tony afterwards, “and I rather think this lets me out, conscientiously lets me out, you know, from paying attention to his futile announcement of bounds.”