“I shall be prepared to prove to your worships,” the lawyer said, “that for the last six months the average of boys severely caned by this man has exceeded sixteen a day, putting aside such minor matters as one, two, or three vicious cuts with the cane given at random. It fortunately happened, as I find from my young friend in the dock, that one of the boys has, from motives of curiosity, kept an account for the last six months of the number of boys thrashed every day. I have sent round for him, and he is at present in court.” Mr. Hathorn turned pale, and he began to think that it would have been wiser for him to have followed Ned's advice, and not to have brought the matter into court. “Your worships,” the lawyer said, “you have been boys, as I have, and you can form your own ideas as to the wretchedness that must prevail among a body of lads of whom more than half are caned daily. This, your worships, is a state of tyranny which might well drive any boys to desperation. But I have not done with Mr. Hathorn yet. “During the ten days previous to this affair things wore even more unpleasant than usual in your establishment, were they not, sir? I understand that the whole of the boys were deprived of all play whatever, and that every minute was occupied by extra tasks, and moreover the prospect was held out to them that this sort of thing would continue for months.” There had already been several demonstrations of feeling in court, but at this statement by the lawyer there was a general hiss. The schoolmaster hesitated before replying. “Now, Mr. Hathorn,” the lawyer said briskly, “we want neither hesitation nor equivocation. We may as well have it from you, because if you don't like telling the truth I can put the thirty miserable lads under your charge into the box one after the other.” “They have had extra tasks to do during their play time,” Mr. Hathorn said, “because they refused to reveal which among them brutally murdered my cat.” “And how do you know they murdered your cat?” “I am sure they did,” the schoolmaster said shortly. “Oh! you are sure they did! And why are you so sure? Had they any grudge against your cat?” “They pretended they had a grudge.” “What for, Mr. Hathorn?” “They used to accuse her of upsetting the ink bottles when they did it themselves.” “You did not believe their statements, I suppose?” “Not at all.” “You caned them just the same as if they had done it themselves. At least I am told so.” “Of course I caned them, especially as I knew that they were telling a lie.” “But if it was a lie, Mr. Hathorn, if this cat did not upset their ink, why on earth should these boys have a grudge against her and murder her?” The schoolmaster was silent.