"You are only adding to your wrong conduct, Campbell," said Mr Prichard very gravely. "It is bad enough for you to take unfair advantage of your school-fellows; but you make the whole matter ten times worse by telling a deliberate falsehood. The book is yours. Your name is in it." In vain Harry protested his innocence; Mr Prichard remained inexorable. "You will come with me to Dr Palmer to-morrow," and putting the book into his pocket, he stalked from the room. CHAPTER VII. A BOY FIGHT AT SCHOOL. Lynch law--At bay--Bully Warburton--Single combat--The deciding round--Harry is victorious. If Harry felt heavy-hearted when he started for home that afternoon, what must he have felt now? Deeper than ever he was plunged in the trouble from which he knew not how to extricate himself. His thoughts, however, soon flew to his mother. He knew that there he would find comfort, that there, at least, he would be believed. So carefully wiping away all traces of his tears, and putting on as brave a face as he could, he strapped his books together, and ran down the broad stone stairs into the lobby. For some time, however, he could not find his cap. It did not need much reflection to tell him what this meant or foreboded. It was the beginning of persecution. But after rumaging about among the boxes kept in the lobby, his patience was at length rewarded. There, in a corner, was the missing cap; but torn and dirty and much injured. Nothing daunted, he cleaned it as well as he could, and, putting it on, emerged into the play-ground. Just as he was fairly in the open, walking quickly towards the gates, and not looking about him, he heard a burst of voices that bore no pleasant meaning; and then a body of tennis-balls flew all round him--some hitting him smartly, some whizzing within an ace of him. As soon as he had recovered from the first shock of his astonishment, stung and bruised, he looked to see who were his assailants, and there he saw about twenty boys, mostly of his own age and size, in fact, belonging to his form; though several of the crowd stood out from the rest, as older and bigger. Harry's weakness was now turned to indignation. "You beastly cowards!" he cried, "what have I done to you?" "Thought to get the prize by cribbing, did you, you sneak?" "I did not crib," shouted Harry, who had not stirred from where he was first hit by the balls. "You little liar, you did. Give it him again," cried one of the bigger boys; and then another shower of balls fell thick about him. "I'm not a liar. It's you're the liars, and the cowards too," he cried, coming nearer the crowd; and then the boys, too, crowded nearer to him. "Do you mean to call me a liar? Do you mean to call me a coward?" cried one after the other--the bigger boys now being louder and more threatening in their tones. "Yes, I do," answered Harry, "if you say I cribbed, when I didn't. And you are cowards to all set on one."