Pembury and his friends had quite expected that the Sixth would attempt a high-handed blow at their paper, and they were not disappointed. For no sooner had Loman and his peers stalked away from the scene of their indignation, and found themselves in the retirement of their own room, than they fell to talking in terms the reverse of pleasant about the event of the morning. The least important of their number was specially wroth. "There's a great row out in the passage to-day," said Raleigh, who was blissfully ignorant of the whole matter; "why can't some of you monitors keep a little better order? The Doctor will be wanting to know what it's all about!" "All very well," said Raikes, one of the monitors; "but if the Fifth will stick their tomfoolery out in the passage, there's sure to be a row." "What tomfoolery? Some of you are for ever grumbling at the Fifth." "And so would you if you saw the complimentary remarks they make about you in this precious newspaper of theirs." "Oh, the _Dominican_? I must have a look at it by and by; but meanwhile something had better be done to stop that row, or we shall catch it ourselves." And so saying, the captain left these injured youths to their own counsels, which it is to be feared were moved more by dislike for the _Dominican_ than by a burning desire for the good order of the school. However, they must do something; and there would be nothing inconsistent with their dignity in demanding the withdrawal of the obnoxious broadside on account of the noise it caused. This would be a safe move, and might be checkmate. Loman was deputed to wait upon the Fifth with the demand of the monitors, and lost no time in carrying out this welcome task. Class was just over, and the Fifth were just about to clear out of their room when Loman entered. It was not often that a Sixth Form fellow penetrated into their camp, and had they not guessed his mission they might have resented the intrusion. "Oh, you fellows," began Loman, feeling not quite so confident now as he had felt five minutes ago, "we can't have that thing of yours hanging out in the passage like that. It makes a crowd--too much row. Whose is it?" "Not mine," said Wraysford, laughing; "ask Bully--perhaps it's his." "Not a bit of it," said Bullinger; "it's yours, isn't it, Simon?" "Only part," said the poet of the "Love-Ballad", "and I presented that to the paper." "Suppose it was mine?" said Oliver, with a drawl. "Then," said Loman, losing his temper, "all I can say is, the sooner you clear it away the better." "Oh! all right; only it's not mine." "Look here," said Loman, "I'm not going to fool about with you. You may think it all very funny, but I'll report it to the Doctor, and then you'll look foolish." "How nice! So pleasant it will be to look for once like what you look always," observed Pembury, gnawing the top of his crutch.