As the thought went through Paul's mind, the door opened, and Mr. Weevil entered. To Paul's wonder the master fell on his knees beside the bed, and, taking Hibbert's hand in his, murmured:

"Tim, Tim, what have they done to you? Speak, Tim."

The cold nature of the master seemed to have melted as he looked at the unconscious boy. Paul had never heard him call Hibbert by his Christian name before. The ashen lips were moving tremulously. The blinking eyes were fixed tenderly on the boy's face, and—was Paul dreaming?—he thought he saw a tear roll down the master's cheek.

"Why did I leave you to yourself? Speak, Tim, speak," came the pleading tones.

For once Mr. Weevil's self-control had given way. He was strangely moved. Paul was too moved himself at the time to take much notice, but he recalled every incident in that strange scene after. Then, as no answer came to his appeal, the master seemed to wander in his talk, and babbled words in an unknown tongue.

He was still kneeling by the bed, talking in this way, when Dr. Clack, the school doctor, entered. His face remained very grave as he examined his patient.

"It's been a very near thing with him," he said, when he had finished his examination; "but with careful nursing he may pull round."

Paul heard the news with a thankful heart, for he had begun to fear that the case was hopeless. Mr. Weevil had now quite recovered his self-possession, and, leaving the patient in the hands of the doctor and the matron, beckoned Paul to follow him to his room.

On entering it he closed the door, and questioned Paul minutely as to the cause of the accident. Paul explained to him what he had seen, the more readily because the little he had seen threw no particular blame on any one.

"And you don't know how it happened?"

"No, sir; I haven't the least idea."

"You weren't in any way concerned in it?" demanded Mr. Weevil, suddenly opening his half-closed eyes and fixing them on Paul.

Paul felt indignant. He had made as little as possible of his share in rescuing Hibbert; and as a result the master seemed to have a lurking suspicion that he was in league in some way with the boys who had caused the accident.

"No, sir, I was in no way concerned in it," he flashed back. "It was quite by chance that I was at the river-side this afternoon."

"Well, the matter must be further inquired into. It is quite certain that there is something that needs explanation."

"I know nothing about that, sir; but if you've no more questions to ask me, I'd like to change my things."

Paul's clothes had nearly dried on him. He had taken no heed of himself in thinking of Hibbert; but now that Hibbert was in bed, and in the hands of those who could take care of him, he began to think a little of his own condition, which was not altogether so comfortable as might have been desired.

"I'm sorry. I really had forgotten that you were in damp clothes. Why didn't you mention it before? You must change them at once."

Mr. Weevil seemed really sorry that he had not given a thought to Paul's condition before. Paul hastened off to change his damp cloth for dry ones. While he was thus engaged, Plunger and Baldry entered for the same purpose. Otherwise they seemed none the worse for the cold bath. Plunger, in fact had got on good terms with himself again, and was as perky as ever.

"I should have punted across the river all right if it hadn't been for Hibbert," he explained. "The scream he gave threw me off my stroke. It was jolly good of you all the same to come to us, Percival. We shan't forget it in a hurry—shall we, Baldry?"

"No," was Baldry's emphatic answer. "By the by, how is Hibbert going on?"

"I was just going to ask the same thing. I would rather have gone under myself than that he should. Has the doctor been to him?"

Plunger spoke with unusual earnestness.

"Yes, Dr. Clack's been to him. He's with him now."

"And what does he say?"

"He says that it's been a near thing, but with careful nursing he may pull round."

Plunger paused with one arm in the sleeve of the jacket he was putting on, and sat down on the side of the bed. He was beginning to realize how near the Crusoe expedition had been to a tragedy—nay, the danger was not yet over. Silence fell on the room for some moments. Each was busy with his own thoughts.

"I haven't yet heard how it all happened," Paul at length inquired.

Plunger told him the origin of the "Crusoe expedition," and all that had happened up to the moment of the accident.

"I don't know anything about the savages that boarded us on the raft. Baldry can tell you that part," he concluded.

"Oh, we found out all about the expedition, and didn't like being left out of it. We thought that we'd have a cut in on our own account. So Sedgefield, Bember, Viner, and myself got down to the plantation before Plunger, Moncrief minor, and Hibbert reached it on the raft. While they landed and got ready for their part, we got ready for ours. What was the use of Crusoe without the noble savages? So we got up as savages, and frightened the life out of Plunger and the other two by swooping down on 'em just like Indians would, you know."

"You didn't frighten me, I tell you," protested Plunger.

"Of course not; but Crusoe, when he first saw savages, never sprinted along half so quickly as you did, I'll warrant! Greased lightning wasn't in it with you, Plunger."

Plunger did not answer, but diligently set to work getting his other arm into the sleeve of his coat.

"Well, but what's become of the other fellows on the raft—Moncrief, Sedgefield, and the others?" inquired Paul.

"Oh, they were still on the raft, floating gaily along, when we left. Goodness knows when they would get ashore," says Baldry.

"It's a bit unfortunate, you see, for none of the fellows now left on the raft understand anything about punting," put in Plunger. "It's rather a pity I couldn't have got back to them."

"It's just that that makes me feel easy. There's a good chance of their pulling through, now you're not with them, Plunger," was Baldry's ungracious response. "Why, here they are!"

As he was speaking, in fact, three of the four entered—Bember, Sedgefield, and Harry Moncrief. After they had spent some time on the raft, drifting aimlessly on the river, a boatman had towed them ashore. Fixing the raft in its place by the bridge, they had returned in all haste to the school, anxious to know what had happened to their companions. When they had learned all particulars, Sedgefield exclaimed:

"I don't care what those Fifth Form fellows say or think, but will you take my hand, Percival?"

Paul willingly gripped the hand extended to him. Bember and the others, with the exception of Harry, followed suit. Harry struggled with himself for a moment. He could not help remembering, in spite of his effort to forget it, that Paul was responsible for the thrashing that his cousin had received at the hands of a Beetle, and that he had seen him shaking hands with the same obnoxious creature. Yet what could have been nobler, Harry told himself, than the way in which, at the risk of his own life, Paul had gone to the rescue of Hibbert, and had returned a few minutes later to save Plunger and Baldry? He had witnessed it all from the raft, with his heart in his mouth. Yes, it was a noble deed. He had never seen a nobler. What was the defeat of Stanley—the wound of his pride—compared with it? Instinctively his hand went out to Paul as the other hands had done, when Viner entered the room.

"Have you heard the news?" he questioned, greatly excited.

"The news! What news?" demanded Sedgefield.

"The school flag. It's gone!"

"Gone!" they echoed, as with one voice.

Paul's mind went back with a rush to when he had entered the grounds with Hibbert in his arms. His eyes had not deceived him, then. The flag had really gone.

"Nonsense!" cried Sedgefield.

"Not much nonsense about it. If you don't believe me, you'd better go and look for yourself."

The intelligence was so remarkable, that Plunger and Harry raced into the grounds. A minute later they returned.

"Viner's quite right. It's gone," they exclaimed in a breath.

"But how—where—when?" questioned Sedgefield. "Who has taken it?"

"No one knows. It must have happened while we were on the river, so we could know nothing about it. Somebody must have stolen up the turret stair and got on to the roof. That's the only possible way it could be done. The senior Forms are in a rare wax over it."

"I should think so," burst out Plunger. "What fellow can rest easy now that our flag's been hauled down? I only wish that I had hold of the one who did it."

"You'd give him a lesson in punting, wouldn't you, Freddy?" observed Baldry, with a wink at those around him.

Plunger glared at Baldry. He would have brought his knuckles down on his head, only he remembered what Baldry had done for him.

"Seriously," said Sedgefield, "it can't have walked. There's not a fellow in Garside who would have pulled down the old flag, even for a joke; I'm certain of that."

"And I." "And I." "And I," came in a chorus.

"A Beetle must have sneaked in. It must be the work of a Beetle."

"That's what I've been thinking," said Bember. "It's only one of those cads could have done a sneakish trick like that."

"Supposing it is a Beetle, which of them could have done it? Which of them could have made his way into the school without being seen, and then got to the door in the turret?" asked Baldry.

"Mellor knows all about the building. He could easily describe the way to any of the Beetles," said Viner. "That champion of theirs—Wyndham—has made us eat enough dirt already. He made our picked man turn tail"—every eye went to Paul as Viner spoke with bitterness—"and Moncrief eat dirt. Now we've lost the flag. Really, we're getting on. We can't sink much lower."

The atmosphere in the dormitory was getting oppressive. Every one felt uncomfortable. That allusion to Paul was true enough. He had turned away, like a frightened cur, from Wyndham; but who could accuse him of being a coward after what had happened that day? It was altogether inexplicable.

Baldry was the first to speak.

"You know what has happened this afternoon, Viner. Percival saved my life, and you're not going to fling mud at him while I'm standing by."

"And I say ditto to Baldry," blustered Plunger.

"Oh, I deserve it," said Paul, for the first time breaking silence. "It's true—every word that Viner said. I did turn tail. It was the act of a coward. And Stanley Moncrief suffered through me, and through me all the school has eaten dirt. But if the school has suffered through me, through me it shall be lifted up again. If the Beetles have taken our flag, by God's help I will get it back again, and again it shall fly in its old place on the turret. If I fail——"

But Baldry cut him short, and shouted:

"Three cheers for Percival!"

The cheers were given very heartily, though Viner took little part in the cheering; but ere the last cheer had died away, a messenger came from the sick-room. Hibbert was still in a very critical condition, but he had recovered consciousness, and was asking for Paul.