m, or looked
behind the curtains to see that the place wasn't chock-full of female
kids. Confound Uncle John!

Throughout the dinner-hour Mike kept out of Bob's way. But in a small
community like a school it is impossible to avoid a man for ever. They
met at the nets.

"Well?" said Bob.

"How do you mean?" said Mike.

"Did you read it?"

"Yes."

"Well, is it all rot, or did you--you know what I mean--sham a crocked
wrist?"

"Yes," said Mike, "I did."

Bob stared gloomily at his toes.

"I mean," he said at last, apparently putting the finishing-touch to
some train of thought, "I know I ought to be grateful, and all that. I
suppose I am. I mean it was jolly good of you--Dash it all," he broke
off hotly, as if the putting his position into words had suddenly
showed him how inglorious it was, "what did you want to do if
_for_? What was the idea? What right have you got to go about
playing Providence over me? Dash it all, it's like giving a fellow
money without consulting him."

"I didn't think you'd ever know. You wouldn't have if only that ass
Uncle John hadn't let it out."

"How did he get to know? Why did you tell him?"

"He got it out of me. I couldn't choke him off. He came down when you
were away at Geddington, and would insist on having a look at my arm,
and naturally he spotted right away there was nothing the matter with
it. So it came out; that's how it was."

Bob scratched thoughtfully at the turf with a spike of his boot.

"Of course, it was awfully decent----"

Then again the monstrous nature of the affair came home to him.

"But what did you do it _for_? Why should you rot up your own
chances to give me a look in?"

"Oh, I don't know.... You know, you did _me_ a jolly good turn."

"I don't remember. When?"

"That Firby-Smith business."

"What about it?"

"Well, you got me out of a jolly bad hole."

"Oh, rot! And do you mean to tell me it was simply because of that----?"

Mike appeared to him in a totally new light. He stared at him as if he
were some strange creature hitherto unknown to the human race. Mike
shuffled uneasily beneath the scrutiny.

"Anyhow, it's all over now," Mike said, "so I don't see what's the
point of talking about it."

"I'm hanged if it is. You don't think I'm going to sit tight and take
my first as if nothing had happened?"

"What can you do? The list's up. Are you going to the Old Man to ask
him if I can play, like Lionel Tremayne?"

The hopelessn