“It was quite necessary, sir,” protested Kit, “that I should meet my mother, who arrived at five o’clock. Besides, sir, we think that Mr. Roylston’s gating was unjust, and we asked him to refer the matter to you, sir, and he refused.” “That was not necessary,” said the Doctor, “except under exceptional circumstances. However, I may say that it is my general understanding that when bounds are raised the day before the Boxford game, that for the afternoon ordinary penalties and restrictions are suspended. Why were they gated, sir?” “For brutal conduct, Doctor Forester, to their younger schoolmates.” “I am sorry to hear that,” said the Head, with something like a smile flitting across his face. “You behaved brutally toward smaller boys?” He faced the culprits. Tony smiled in spite of himself. “Why, yes, sir, I suppose we did; we planned to.” “I am sorry to hear it,” said the Head. “But, Mr. Roylston, for once let us compromise and temper justice with mercy. Only recently these two young brutes did a very effective and commendable service to the school,—they thrashed two bullies who had been making the life of a small boy quite miserable. Let us forgive them their brutality in the one case for the sake of their brutality in the other, where it was not undeserved. I am disposed to ask you to dispense the gating and the penalties for violating it.” Mr. Roylston compressed his lips. “I—is it just, sir?” The Doctor smiled in his odd way. “I am disposed to insist on your being merciful, Mr. Roylston. I will guarantee that there will be no more brutality nor disobedience. Let us threaten them with dire penalties, if they are reported for brutality again. Good-day, boys.” As they went out, they heard the Doctor say in suave and cheerful tones, “Stay and have a bit of supper with me, Roylston.” “Thank you, no;” answered the master, “I have duties immediately. Good-evening, sir.” “One for the Gumshoe,” said Tony blithely, as they turned onto the campus. Kit was serious. “I have always said,” he remarked sententiously, “that the Gumshoe Ebenezer was an odious ass; but I have always had, until this moment, a sneaking conviction that in so saying I was doing him an injustice. Henceforth my conscience is absolved. Ass he is; ass he shall be.” “Amen,” said Tony. “Fact is, Gumshoe’s had it in for Finch. Mysterious beast, ain’t he! We score to-day, kiddo, but the Gumshoe is not annihilated.” “No, I dare say not. The possibilities of his getting back at us are pretty nigh endless. But say, Tonio, old sport, isn’t Bab Worthington a queen?” “Quite the queen, Kitty; but Betty Wilson is no mere handmaid.” “Oh, bother Betty; she’s a good sort. But let’s hurry, so we can get down early. I am half sorry I asked the crowd. Think I’d rather have—” They both began to run then toward the dining-room, where the school was already at supper.