ALFRED’S father had returned home, and had written to him saying that they were all coming to see him on the following day. It was not many miles from Darlton to the old city where Alfred was. He had done all his work well, and both Mr. Harmer and Dr. Phillips had praised him for his industry and attention.

Mr. Cottenham, unknown to the boys, had told Mr. Harmer that Cox had bought an arithmetic book and key with the answers, and the master had promised to look carefully over his sums in future. Cox thought himself very cunning, and used to do about one sum in three wrong, so that his master might not suspect him. But boys forget that, however clever they may think themselves, masters have eyes, and also have been boys themselves, and know what tricks are done in school.

For several mornings Mr. Harmer did not look carefully over Cox’s sums, but merely asked him to read out the answers. A day came, however, on which the boys were given a holiday after services in the cathedral, and Mr. Harmer felt certain that Cox would have all his sums quite correct, in order that he might not be kept in. As usual, he was simply asked to read out the answers. Cox did so; they were all correct, as Mr. Harmer had expected.

“Bring your book here,” he said.

Cox brought up his arithmetic book.

“No, Cox,” he said, “I wish to see your exercise book, with the working of the sums.”

“I haven’t put quite all the working down, sir,” stammered Cox, turning very red. “I did the sums first on a piece of paper at home, and then threw it away.”

“Bring up your book.”

Cox brought it. The sums were commenced all right, and the answer was correct also, but there were several mistakes in the working which could not possibly have produced the results put down.

“It is very extraordinary, Cox, how you could get such an answer from that working.”

“Please, sir, I copied the sums in the book in a hurry, perhaps I made some mistakes.”

“Perhaps! Come now, tell me the truth. Have you a book with answers?”

“No, sir.”

“You have never bought such a book?”“No, sir, never.”

“You did not go into Mr. Thrupp’s a fortnight ago and buy one?”

“No, sir,” replied Cox hesitatingly.

“How can you stand there, Cox, and tell me such a deliberate falsehood? If you do not at once speak the truth, I will take you to the dean. I have seen Mr. Thrupp, who knows you, and he said you did buy a copy. Mr. Thrupp also told me that you bought a similar book last term. I have not the slightest doubt now that you put that leaf of answers into Davidson’s book, or, at least, that it belonged to you.”

Cox did not reply.

“Now, Cox, listen to me. Either you will answer my questions truthfully, or I will take you this very minute to the dean. Did you put that page in Davidson’s book?”

“No, sir.”

“Do you know who did put it there?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Who was it?”

Cox was silent.

“Are you going to answer me, or do you prefer to go to the dean?”

This decided Cox.“It was Herbert King, sir, who put it in the book.”

“King, I am ashamed of you! A boy of your age to do such a paltry trick!”

“Please, sir, I only did it for a joke.”

“A joke! A joke is only a joke when both sides can laugh. It was a mean, despicable trick to do, and Davidson might have been unjustly punished for it. You are leaving at the end of this term, King, or I should feel very much inclined to send you to the dean. I shall cane you both now before the whole school as a warning to others, and a just punishment to yourselves.”

Mr. Harmer was as good as his word, and the two boys returned to their places not only in pain, but in humiliation. King felt the disgrace even more keenly than his companion, for he was the biggest boy in the school.

All the class had of course stopped work and looked on, many of them in fear, as Mr. Harmer was very rarely as angry as they saw him that morning. When the lessons and services were over, Cox and King slunk away by themselves.

Alfred had arranged to meet his two friends about half a mile beyond the old pit. He did not accompany them, as he was going to write a letter to his father, and it took Alfred much longer to write such a letter than Walter and Steve would care to wait. He had arranged, therefore, to join them at the place at which they usually fished. The two boys had gone in a boat, but Alfred was to take a short cut across the fields in order that he might not lose too much time.

The letter was written and posted, and away Alfred ran to find his chums. He was as happy as a boy could be at the prospect of meeting all his family again, and he was also very glad that his innocence was proved. When he was passing near the old pit which Mr. Harmer had forbidden the boys to visit, he saw King and Cox playing together, or rather trying to amuse themselves. King threw his cap at Cox, and, missing him, it fell down the pit.

“That serves you right,” exclaimed Cox, laughing at King. “Now you’ve lost your cap.”

“No, I haven’t. I shall climb down and get it. It isn’t deep. I have been down several times before.”

The pit was not apparently very deep, owing to the sides having fallen in after some very heavy rains. There was a rude fence round the mouth of it, formed by lashing scaffold poles together. These the boys used to untie, knot the pieces of cord together, and let each other down. One pit in the vicinity had lately been flooded, and in the bottom of this old one there was some water.

“Herbert,” said Cox, “your cap won’t be much improved by that muddy water.”

“We can wash it in the river afterwards,” replied King. “Come and lend me a hand, and we will soon get these pieces of rope off and tied together.”

“I wonder how much water there is at the bottom!” said Cox, looking down at the dark muddy water.

“Only a few inches. I know the depth of the pit when it is dry, and I can see there isn’t much difference in it. You had better go down, but I will if you are afraid. I don’t think you are strong enough to help me up again, are you?”

“I don’t know,” replied Cox, looking very doubtfully at the water.

“Don’t be in such a funk,” exclaimed King, “or I shall tie the rope round one of these posts and let myself down.”

“I am not in a funk,” said Cox. “I will go down when we get these pieces tied together. This rope is a bit rotten, isn’t it?”“No, it’s all right. It has borne my weight, and so I am sure it will yours.”

Cox did not seem at all in a hurry to commence the descent, which was perhaps some thirty or forty feet.

“There goes young sneak,” he exclaimed, as he saw Alfred running across the other side of the field. “Stop him.”

As soon as Alfred heard this, he ran as fast as he could, but King soon overtook him.

“Herbert,” called out Cox, “let’s make him go down and fetch your cap. He’s fond of sneaking, so that will give him something to talk about.”

“All right, Harry,” replied King, “a jolly fine idea that! Now, little sneak, you are going down that pit to fetch up my cap, do you hear?”

“Yes,” replied Alfred, “I hear.”

“Do you mean to say you don’t intend to go down there?”

“Yes, I do,” replied Alfred firmly.

“Supposing I say I will make you, what then?”

Alfred did not reply.

“If you won’t go after his cap, perhaps you will after your own,” exclaimed Cox, taking Alfred’s cap and throwing it down the pit.King laughed. Alfred remained still, without attempting to move. King shook him roughly.

“Now, look here,” he said. “You are going down to fetch those caps quietly, or we shall tie this rope round you and drop you down, whether you like it or not.”

“I tell you I sha’n’t go,” replied Alfred, “and if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll kick you.”

“Then clear off, little sneak,” exclaimed King angrily, and shaking him violently. “Come, Harry, and get my cap, and leave his there until called for.”

Cox would have liked to refuse, as Alfred had done, only he feared the jeers of his chum. So he allowed himself to be bound with the cord, while the other end was secured to a post. King intended to lower him gradually. Alfred remained where he was, simply looking on.

“Harry,” said King, “you must steady yourself against the side as you go down, and when you climb up again, dig your feet well into the loose earth.”

“Is this tied tightly?” asked Cox, who was very nervous.

“Yes, that’s all right. Come, are you ready?” cried King.

Cox approached the mouth, and Alfred then came nearer and watched them. They seemed to have forgotten his presence for the time. Slowly Cox began to descend; King, being a strong boy, let the rope slide gradually. Alfred went to the very edge of the pit and saw Cox going slowly lower and lower.

Suddenly King’s feet slipped and he loosened his hold of the rope. Cox fell some feet with a jerk, when the cord snapped, and a loud splash was heard.

Pale with fear, both King and Alfred gazed down and saw that Cox had disappeared beneath the water. In a few seconds—which seemed hours—his head appeared above the surface.

“Help! help!” he screamed, and again disappeared.

King stood still, paralysed with fear.

In a moment Alfred had grasped the rope and descended rapidly, blistering his hands as he did so.

He had reached the water. Cox had risen again almost senseless. He grasped him by his jacket and held him with one hand, while he clutched the rope with the other.

“King,” he cried, “I can’t hold him long. Get some help at once! My arm is breaking!”King was aroused by his cry, and looked wildly around. The rope was too rotten for him to dare to descend. There was no one to help them. Suddenly he seized one of the poles which formed the fence.