y summoned up enough courage to ask
Davenport if he knew where Caruthers was.

"Yonder, sirrah, lurking behind the piano."

The fag came up.

"Oh--I say--er--Caruthers. 'The Bull'--er, I mean Mr Buller wants to see
you as soon as you are changed."

"Right," said Gordon.

"I said so," said Mansell; "he will weep over you and shake your hand
like a long-lost brother; and after you will follow Lovelace, who will
once more lead the lads with white jerseys and red dragons to victory
against Osborne. Good-bye; you needn't stop, you know," he informed the
fag, who was giving a stork-like performance, by gyrating first on one
foot then on another.

"That means I shall miss my tea," said Gordon.

"I fear so," answered Mansell. "I don't really think you can expect 'the
Bull' to receive you with crumpets and muffins and other goodly
delights. Of course to-morrow is Sunday; you might manage to work a
supper-party, but don't rely on it. Come and tell me the result of your
chat; you will find me in my study; don't knock; just walk in; you are
always welcome."

As Gordon walked across the courts to Buller's study he had not the
slightest doubt as to how the interview would end. "The Bull" was often
like this. Only yesterday Foster had told him some long yarn of how he
had beaten a lad in Christy's and had hit his hand by mistake; and to
kick a person was, after all, a far more undignified method of assault.
It was almost actionable. Quite contentedly he knocked on the door and
went in. He was not, however, welcomed with open arms. "The Bull" stood
with his back to the door, facing the fireplace, his hands behind his
back. He did not speak for a minute or so. Gordon wondered if it would
be correct to take a chair. "The Bull" broke the silence.

"Well, Caruthers, are you sorry for what happened this afternoon?"

This took Gordon by surprise: it was hardly the interview he had been
led to expect. He murmured "Yes, sir" rather indistinctly.

"Are you, though? Because if you are going to come in here and say you
are sorry, when you are not, simply to smooth things over, you would be
a pretty rotten sort of fellow."

"Yes, sir." Gordon had recovered his self-control and was ready for a
fight.

"Well, this is the way I look at things. I am here to coach Fernhurst
sides; it is my life's work. I love Fernhurst, and I have devoted all my
energy and care to help my old school, and it seems to me that you are
trying--you and Love