Dick Lester of Kurrajong

"Lester! Hi, Lester!"

There was no response, except from two youngsters near, who kindly advised him to call loudly, adding that there was no sense in whispering. The injured messenger turned a shade redder, glared, and renewed his shriek.

"Lester! You're wanted!"

"Why not telephone?" asked one of his tormentors, lazily. "It's much easier."

"Besides you'll hurt yourself if you make awful noises like that," commented the other. "The last chap who did it busted. And nobody wants to gather up your pieces."

"Beasts!" said the small boy; and again, desperately: "Lester!"

"He's somewhere over in that corner," said a senior boy, who was standing against a tree, sheltering from the nipping wind while he knitted his brows over a Virgil--unpleasantly conscious that the Doctor would demand heart-to-heart intercourse concerning it within half an hour. "Clear out, for goodness' sake, and stop behaving like a motor siren."

The small boy trotted away in the direction indicated, dodging the footballing groups as best he could, and keeping a sharp look out for the object of his search. Presently his anxious face lightened, and he hurled himself against a boy who, being just about to kick at a spinning ball, turned upon him, justly indignant.

"Can't you look out where you're going, you silly young ass!"

"Lester, you're wanted!" said the messenger breathlessly.

"Who by?" demanded Dick Lester, ungrammatically.

"The doctor. And he said you were to hurry."

"Now, I wonder what I've been doing." Lester knitted his brows. "Was he in a wax?"

"Oh, much the same as usual," returned the messenger--to whom the doctor, even in his most benevolent moments, was a being of terror and thunderbolts. "You'd better hurry up, or you'll know all about it."

Dick trotted off across the playground, meeting friendly salutations on the way from some who desired to know what had been his latest iniquity, and from others who counselled a pillow beneath the jacket as an aid to the coming interview. He hoped--rather faintly--that his face was clean, knowing for certain that his hands were not. It seemed prudent not to waste time in going to clean up, so he ran on, and presently tapped at the door of the doctor's study, having as yet been unable to guess why he should be sent for. There was a little matter of a highly-unauthorised ride on a pony belonging to a milkman near the school; another item of a sketch on the blackboard, which had proved very diverting to his form, but had not been effaced quite quickly enough to escape the eagle eye of the science master. It had represented the doctor, full-fledged in cap and gown, careering along St. Kilda beach on a donkey. Without any doubt, one might prophesy that the doctor would not find in it the undiluted delight it had given to the form.

"All the same, old Stinks potted me himself for it," Dick pondered, referring to the science master aforesaid. "I don't believe he's beast enough to have me carpeted as well. And nobody knew about the pony except Bottles. At least I hope not!" He shrugged his shoulders, and renewed his delicate tap at the study door.

"Come in!" said a deep voice, and Dick entered. Dr. Gurdon glanced round from his writing table.

"Oh, you, Lester. Go into the room across the hall."

Wondering greatly, Dick withdrew, closing the door behind him. The opposite door belonged to Mrs. Gurdon's drawing-room; presumably he was merely to wait there until the doctor had time to attend to his case. He went in, still lost in conjecture.

"Dickie!"

Someone little and slight and dainty sprang to meet him, and with an inarticulate cry Dick fled to her.

"Mother! Oh, you blessed old darling!"

"I couldn't resist taking you by surprise," Mrs. Lester said, still holding him closely. "It was only yesterday that I knew that I was coming. Oh, Dick, you've grown ever so!"

"Have I?" he said, laughing. "Yes, I believe I have--my trousers are a mile shorter. Oh, and I thought it meant a licking when the old doc. sent for me; and it was--you!"

"What have you been doing to deserve a licking, you bad boy?" said his mother, smiling.

"Oh, lots. Tell you all about it afterwards." Dick said cheerfully. "Nothing very awful, though, Mother-est, how long are you going to be down?"

"Two days. And you're coming away with me until to-night, because we've got lots to talk about. Run and change your clothes--yes, and you might wash your face, too, my son."

"Right-oh! Back in two jiffs."

He went upstairs three steps at a time, unbuttoning as he went. In the room which he shared with three other boys a very fat youth was laboriously endeavouring to remove sundry stains from an Eton collar.

"My last collar," grumbled he. "I guess the laundry eats 'em. And I've got to go to the dentist, and matron'll eat me if she sees me in this. Wish you had a decent neck, Skinny, and I'd borrow one from you."

"Seventeens, isn't it, that you take?" queried Dick, grinning. "Never mind, Bottles, you're the pride of the school."

"Oh, am I?" rejoined his plump friend sourly. "I don't know about the pride of the school, but I'm a fortune to the man who makes my clothes--I bust out of 'em once a fortnight. Why on earth anyone wanted to be fat beats me."

"Did anyone?" Dick grinned--and dodged a hair-brush, hurled by Bottles with an agility that was surprising, considering his bulk. "Steady, you playful old elephant--I'm busy."

"You seem a bit rushed," remarked Bottles, observing his friend's movements with some amazement, as Dick flung off his school suit hurriedly, dived at the wash-stand, emerged from the basin, dripping, and after a brief towelling plunged at his locker for his Sunday clothes. "Going to have lunch at Government House, by any chance?"

"No--something better," Dick knotted a blue tie carefully. "Mother's turned up suddenly, and I'm off for the day."

"Some people have all the luck," Bottles said, enviously. "Things don't get sorted out equally at all--some get mothers and some get dentists. Jolly glad, all the same, Lester. You didn't expect her down, did you?"

"No, and when the old doc. sent for me I made sure it was the milkman's pony," Dick said, grinning.

"That's what it is to have a guilty conscience," laughed Bottles, whose name, by the way, happened to be Glass. "Great Scott, you're dressed; and I'm still pounding at this beastly collar, and it only gets worse. What on earth am I going to do?"

"Dodge matron, and buy some new ones at the stores when you get in," counselled Dick, giving his hair a furious brushing. He dived into his locker for a new cap. "So long, old man; hope the dentist won't be very beastly. See you to-night." He clattered down the corridor, leaving Mr. Glass gazing ruefully at his murky collar.

Mrs. Lester was standing at the window of the drawing-room, looking out upon the rather dismal shrubs of the school garden. She turned to meet Dick, with the delightful smile that made her look only old enough to be his sister.