istory of the British nation--and because Carfax bruised
his way as a forward through many football matches, and fought a
policeman on Parker's Piece one summer evening, Rupert Craven thought
him a jolly good fellow. Carfax also had had probably, at the bottom of
his dirty, ignoble soul, more honest affection for Craven than for
any one in the world. He had tried to behave himself in that ingenuous
youth's company.

Now young Craven, disturbed, unhappy, anxious, stood in Olva's door.

"I say, Dune, I hope I'm not disturbing you?"

"Not a bit."

"It's a rotten time to come." Craven came in and sat down. "I'm awfully
worried."

"Worried?"

"Yes, about Carfax. No one knows what's happened to him. He may have
gone up to town, of course, but if he did he went without an exeat.
Thompson saw him go out about two-thirty yesterday afternoon---was
going to Grantchester, because he yelled it back to Cards, who asked him
where he was off to--not been heard or seen since."

"Oh, he's sure to be all right," Olva said easily.

"He's up in town!"

"Yes, I expect he is, but I don't know that that makes it any better.
There's some woman he's been getting in a mess with I know--didn't say
anything to me about it, but I heard of it from Cards."

"Well--" Olva slowly lit his pipe--"there's something else too. He was
always in with a lot of these roughs in the town--stable men and the
rest. He used to get tips from them, he always said, and he's had awful
rows with some of them before now. You know what a temper he's got,
especially when he's been drinking at all. I shouldn't wonder if he
hadn't a fight one fine day and got landed on the chin, or something,
and left."

"Oh! Carfax can look after himself all right. He's used to that kind of
company."

Olva gazed, through the smoke of his pipe, dreamily into the fire.

"You don't like him," Craven said suddenly.

Olva turned slowly in his chair and looked at him. "Why! What makes you
say that?"

"Something Carfax told me the other day. We were sitting one evening in
his room and he suddenly said to me, 'You know there _is_ one fellow in
this place who hates me like poison--always has hated me.' I asked him
who it was. He said it was you. I was immensely surprised, because I'd
always thought you very good friends--as good friends as you ever are
with any one, Dune. You don't exactly take any of us to your breast, you
know!"

Dune smiled. "No, I think I've made a mistake in