" cried Glyn. "He oughtn't to have asked you, for that
belt belonged to your father, and now it belongs to you, and some day it
will have to go to your successors."

"Then you think I have done quite right, Glynny?"

"Well, not quite; if you had you would have told me that you were going
to take it there for the Professor to see."

"Oh, don't begin again about that," replied Singh piteously. "I told
you I didn't mention it because I thought you would find fault."

"Yes, you did," said Glyn rather importantly, "and that shows that you
felt you were not doing right. There, I am not going to say any more
about it. I am only your companion. It isn't as if I were your
guardian and had authority over you; but I am very glad that Mr Morris
thought you did quite right in not leaving the belt. I wish you hadn't
got it, and the old thing was safe back with all the rest of your
treasures. You'd no business to want to bring it. A schoolboy doesn't
want such things as that."

"Don't say any more about it, please," cried Singh piteously.

"Lock it up then, quite at the bottom of your box, and never do such a
thing again. It would serve you jolly well right if you lost it."

"Oh, I say!" cried Singh.

"And promise me that if that man asks you to let him have it again you
will come and tell me and go with me to the Doctor. I am sure he
wouldn't like this gentleman--I suppose he is a gentleman--"

"Oh yes," said Singh thoughtfully; "he's a professional gentleman."

"Well, whatever he is," said Glyn, "I am sure the Doctor wouldn't like
it."

"Look here," cried Singh eagerly, "I'll promise you, if you like, for I
am getting to hate the old thing. I am tired of it, and I shall be
ashamed to wear it now after all you have said, and feel as if I were
dressed up for a show. You take it now, and lock it up in your drawers.
You'd take more care of it than I could; add then you wouldn't bully me
any more."

The boy made for his bullock-trunk; but Glyn caught him by the arm and
stopped him.

"That'll do," he said.

"What do you mean?" cried Singh. "You will take care of it for me?"

"That I won't," cried Glyn, "and you ought to be ashamed to ask me to."

"Ashamed?" cried Singh, flushing. "Ashamed to put full trust in you?"

"No; but you ought to be ashamed not to be able to trust yourself. It's
like saying to me, `I am such a weak-minded noodle that I've no
confidence in myself.'"

"Oh," cried Singh passionate