bunting that lay ready for decorating the tea-room. "Wot is it?"

"Union Jack o' course, you silly rotter!"

"Oh, you good, good boy! . . . Yes, dear lads," went on Link Andrew,
in a mimicking voice, "it is indeed the meet-your-flag of our 'oly
Motherland, and 'Erbert 'Enery Bates, our Good Conduck Medallist,
will now oblige by going down on his knees and kissing it. Else I'll
put an eye on him!"

Master Bates--"Good Conduct Bates"--stepped forward, with his fists
up. He was something of a sneak and a sucker-up, yet by no means a
coward. He advanced bravely enough, although he knew that Link
Andrew--the best boxer in the ship--was provoking him of set purpose.

The rest of the boys liked Link and disliked Bates; yet their sense
of fair play told them that Link was putting himself in the wrong;
and yet again, despite their natural eagerness to see a fight, they
wanted to save Link from what could but end in folly. He was playing
for a fall.

"Here comes Schoolmaster!" shouted one, at a venture.

At that moment, indeed, the Schoolmaster appeared in the doorway.

"What's this noise about?" he demanded. "You, Link Andrew?
I thought your interest was to avoid trouble for twenty-four hours."