“You admit then,” snapped out Mr. Chowdler, “that you are sacrificing the boy to an abstract theory.” “I admit nothing of the kind,” said Mr. Flaggon. A good many of the masters, who did not share Mr. Chowdler’s enthusiasm for le Willow, approved of the headmaster’s action; and, though they did not say so publicly, were not sorry to see Mr. Chowdler’s straying sheep treated for once in a way like other people’s straying sheep. But Mr. Chowdler himself made no attempt to conceal his displeasure either from masters or boys. “I don’t call that kind of thing discipline,” he said; “I call it panic. A strong man doesn’t hit about wildly without caring where the blow falls. With all his faults, dear old Gussy was never unjust. Le Willow’s too good an old fellow at bottom to be soured for long or lose his sunny nature. But that’s how criminals are made.” Mr. Chowdler’s views received a striking corroboration, at least in his own eyes, when, three weeks later, le Willow was caught cribbing. It is true that Mr. Bent, his Form master, had suspected him for the greater part of two terms; but, as Mr. Plummer said, suspicion proves nothing. In the midst of his grief Mr. Chowdler was almost triumphant. “What did I tell you?” he exclaimed. “You can see now for yourselves. That’s how boys are driven into evil courses.” But the headmaster, instead of recognising the folly of his ways and apologising to Mr. Chowdler and his ex-prætor, decided that, after this second offence, the boy could not remain in the school and must leave at the end of the Term. Dismiss the captain of next year’s eleven, a bat with the most taking style that had been seen at Chiltern since the days of Goring who played for England, and a very fair change bowler into the bargain! All Chiltern was aghast, and even Mr. Chase, who usually had something to say on behalf of the headmaster, admitted that it was an act of doubtful wisdom. To Mr. Chowdler it was not merely an act of doubtful wisdom, it was a travesty of justice, an outrage, a scandal--in fact almost any strong word that you can think of. When a man thinks as strongly as Mr. Chowdler thought about some gross miscarriage of justice, it is impossible for him to keep his feelings to himself; he would rather be guilty of indiscretion than of a criminal silence; and soon boys, masters, and the parents and relatives of the victim, were in full possession of Mr. Chowdler’s opinions on the subject.