ich part? I saw the March Hare leap in with his hat on his head and
his towel on his arm. He did look properly mad, I can tell you!"

"I mean before that, when Toppin went under."

"They say he actually took a dive from the board, don't they?"

"Yes, but I want to get hold of someone who saw it. I can't understand
his being such an absolute little fool, and I can't worry the kid
himself about it just at present."

So saying, Escombe swam off once more.

Armitage was the next to approach Jack. He looked rather pale, but began
by talking rapidly about a paper-chase that was being planned. Jack knew
well enough that this was not what he wanted to talk about, but he
walked away from the bath with him, still pleasantly discussing starts
and times, till they found themselves alone on the stone stairs. Then
Armitage came to a stand-still, and his tone changed.

"Brady, I want to speak to you; I want to explain, you know, about
Toppin."

"Oh, I saw you push!" remarked Jack bluntly.

"I'm not going to deny it, but do you know that he begged me to? You
came in too late to hear that."

"If I hand you a pistol and ask you to shoot me, will you do it?"

"Don't be a fool, Brady. There was no danger. I shouldn't have let him
drown."

"He precious nearly did."

"That was the March Hare's fault. I shouldn't have let him sink again."

"Then you think you were right to push him in, Armitage? I don't. Shall
we ask Anderson's opinion?"

"No, Jack, I beg and implore you to keep it dark. Of course I should
never do it again. But Simmons and Bacon have sworn not to bring me into
the affair. Toppin knows it was his own fault, and is a bit ashamed of
it. There's only the March Hare besides yourself. I thought perhaps you
might persuade him--"

A shadow darkened the open entrance. There was a stamping on the
door-mat, and then Mr. Anderson appeared on the stairs. Jack advanced to
meet him.

"Finished your bath, Brady?"

"Yes, sir. I mean, I haven't had one. All the rest have. I wanted to
tell you there's been a little--a little commotion, sir."

"What on earth do you mean? Not an accident?"

"No, sir; only it might have been. Toppin--little Trevelyan, that
is--got into the deep end, and the March Hare--you know the boy I mean,
sir--he thought he was drowning, and jumped in after him with his things
on, and so they had to haul them both out. Toppin's as right as a trivet
again, and as warm as a toast. And the Hare isn't hur