“And now,” said Kennedy, when the last faggot had been carried to the top of Beacon-knowe, as the mound on the Common was called, “what shall we do with our half-crown? I’m sure we needn’t buy any more faggots: there’s sticks enough here for two bonfires. What do you vote for Dunn?” “Oh, I vote that we spend it!” “Spend it?” exclaimed the other, laughing, “yes, I should think so indeed! But _how_ shall we spend it?” “Oh, I vote for getting puffs at Peggy Brandrick’s,” cried Billy Blake. “No, that will never do,” replied several at once. “Peggy’s puffs are a penny each, and there’s but thirty pence in half-a-crown, while there’s fifty boys in the school. Whatever we have should go all round.” “Yes, that is but fair, certainly,” said Kennedy. “Well, Billy, you must think of something else.” “Lollypops for me,” answered Billy sturdily. “I’m tired of lollypops,”--“I vote against lollypops,” cried half-a-dozen voices. “Well, I wish somebody would think of something. What do you say, Harry Martin?” “Oh, if you ask me, I should say we ought to take the money back to Mr. Warlingham. If it is not spent in the manner in which he intended it should be spent, I think he ought to settle for us.” “But suppose when he gets the half-crown back, he pockets it,” said Dick Middleton, who was quite taken aback at what Martin had suggested. “Dick, you ought to be ashamed of yourself for saying such a thing. You know quite well that Mr. Warlingham would not use us so. I dare say he would tell us to get a new foot-ball, or something of that kind. We are in great want of a new foot-ball.” Some of the boys agreed with this, but the greater part of them were not very well pleased. They thought the money was their own, and that they might do what they liked with it. They had none of Harry Martin’s scruples, and thought it very hard that he should have put them into their heads. “Come,” said Dunn, all of a sudden, “I’ve thought of a scheme that will please everybody, and will be a spending of the money in the kind of way the Vicar meant. Let’s go over to Weston and buy some squibs and crackers!” A shout of applause was the answer that Dunn received. The boys were quite delighted; nobody listened to Martin and his scruples, and when he endeavoured to put in a word, half-a-dozen lads began to push him about, jumping and capering all round him, and whenever he began to speak, his words were drowned in the shout, “Remember, remember, The Fifth of November!” It was all done good-humouredly: but Harry saw there was no chance of being listened to, so he said no more, and gave it up as a bad job, though it was not without sorrow that he saw Dunn and Middleton set off for Weston.