"He'd come," cried Paul, not waiting for the Tadpole to guess--"he'd come a mile to see you hung. So would I--there!" It was some time before the meeting got back to the subject of admitting the public. But it was finally agreed that, though the public were not to be invited, the door should be left open, and any one ("presenting his card," young Bilbury suggested) might come in, with the exception of Loman, Mr Rastle, Tom Braddy, and the school cat. For the next few days the Guinea-pigs and Tadpoles were busy, learning their parts, practising their songs, arranging all the details of their dramatic performance, and so on; and Mr Rastle had to "pot" one or two more of them, and detain one or two others, before he could get anything like the ordinary work of the class done. All this the young vocal, instrumental, and dramatic enthusiasts bore patiently, devoting so many extra ounces of dynamite to Mr Rastle's promised blow-up for each offence. At last the festival day arrived. Stephen, on whom, somehow, all the work had devolved, while the talking and discussion of knotty points had fallen on his two brother officers, looked quite pale and anxious on the eventful morning. "Well, young 'un," said Oliver, "I suppose Wray and I are to be allowed to come and see the fun to-night." "Yes," said Stephen, with considerable misgivings about the "fun." "All serene; we'll be there, won't we, Wray? Not the first Guinea-pig kick-up we've been witness to, either." "Do you think Pembury will come?" asked Stephen, nervously. "Oh, rather. He'll have to report it in the next _Dominican_. I'll see he comes." "Oh, I think he needn't mind," said Stephen, with a queer shyness; "I could write out a report for him." "Oh, I dare say; a nice report that would be. No, Tony must be there. He wouldn't miss it for a five-pound note." Stephen retired to report these rather alarming prospects of an audience to his comrades. "Talking of five-pound notes," said Wraysford, after he had gone, "does Loman ever mean to pay up that 8 pounds?" "I don't know; it doesn't look like it," said Oliver. "The fact is, he came to me yesterday to borrow another pound for something or another. He said Cripps had been up to the school and tried to make out that there was another owing, and had threatened, unless he got it, at once to speak to the head master." "Did you lend it him?" said Wraysford. "It's a regular swindle." "I hadn't got it to lend. I told him I was sure the fellow was a thief, and advised him to tell the Doctor." "What did he say?" "Oh, he got in an awful state, and said he would get into no end of a row, and wouldn't for the world have the Doctor know a word of it." "I don't like it at all," said Wraysford. "Don't you have more to do than you can help with that business, Noll, old man." "But the poor beggar seems regularly at his wits' end." "Never mind; you'll do him and yourself no good by lending him money."