honoured names had been received in dead silence—"but I like these things to be taken as a matter of course, and I'm sure neither Cave nor yet Sprawson would wish to pose as popular heroes. I have an important message for them both, however, from a very important quarter. My friend Major Mangles, the Chief Constable of the county, wishes to have an interview with Cave and Sprawson, with a view to the early apprehension of the would-be thieves."
Living people are not often quite so silent as the boys at that moment in Heriot's hall. Major the Hon. Henry Mangles was known to the whole school by sight and reputation as the most dashing figure of a military man in all those parts. Sometimes he played in a match against the Eleven, and seldom survived many balls without lifting at least one out of the ground. Sometimes he was to be seen and heard in Heriot's inner court, and then the entire house would congregate to catch his picturesque remarks. He inhabited a moated grange some four miles from the school, broke a fresh bone in his body every hunting season, and often gave Bob Heriot a mount.
"When does he wish to see us, sir?" inquired Cave major, with becoming coolness.
"This afternoon."
"Here in the town?"
"No—at his place."
"I'm sorry, sir," said Cave, firmly—"but that's impossible."
"Any other time, sir," suggested Sprawson, civilly. "To-day we're both playing in the Sixth Form match."
"Et tu, Sprawson?" cried Heriot, merrily.
"I'm the tip of the School tail, sir."
The house relieved itself in laughter led by Heriot.
