a question of
moments before the perspiring Bosh smashed something; the gramophone
record was palpably cracked; their powers of entertainment were rapidly
reaching their climax. Then came a diversion. The door opened and the
Midshipman of the Watch entered.

"The Flagship's barge has called for you, sir," he said.

The gramophone stopped as if by magic, and the overheated juggler caught
and retained the soda-water bottle, the corkscrew and the half lemon with
a gasp of relief.

Sir William rose regretfully and held out his hand. "I have to thank you
all for a very delightful quarter of an hour," he said, smiling, and took
his departure amid polite murmurs of farewell, followed by James. Proof
of his appreciation of the entertainment reached them a week later in the
form of an enormous plum cake, and was followed thereafter at regular
intervals by similar bounty.

Lettigne sat down and wiped his forehead. "Phew!" he said when the door
had closed behind the visitors. "Who was that old comic? I didn't catch
his name."

"Sir William Thorogood," replied another. "He's full of grey-matter."
He tapped his forehead, and stepping across to the common bookshelf
indicated the back of a text book on advanced mechanics. "That's one of
his little efforts," he said.

Lettigne followed the other's finger. "Good night!" he ejaculated.
"Have I been giving a display of my unequalled talents for the benefit of
the man who has caused me more sleepless nights than Euclid himself?
Here is poor old George Robey been shouting himself hoarse too----"

"And I haven't even looked at my mail yet," said Harcourt, drawing an
unopened letter from his pocket. He slit the envelope and sat down in
the vacated arm-chair. It was from his sister at school in Eastbourne,
and enclosed another written in a vaguely familiar hand. Boy like he
read the enclosure first:

DEAR FATHER [it ran],--I have just put my name down for the boxing
championship, and I'll do my best to win, because I know how awfully keen
you are. All the same, I think it's a pity you took up that bet with
Harcourt's father at the club. He probably can afford to lose and you
can't. There are lots of things that Mother wants that ten pounds would
buy. Besides, Harcourt is my best friend, and if we both get into the
finals it would be beastly and like fighting for money. I wish you
hadn't told me. I must end now. With love to Mother and Dick. In
haste. Your lovi