come back to St. Amory's in a very different frame of mind from
that in which he had returned after the Perry fiasco. His three weeks'
holiday had been no end enjoyable; and now, besides a coin or two in his
pocket, he had a clean, crisp note in his purse. As he stepped out of
the train at the station, the burly figure of Jim Cotton hove in sight,
and an eleven-inch palm clapped Gus on the back.

"Hallo! old man. How goes it?"

"Oh!" said Gus, coughing; "I'm all right, Jim, and your biceps seem in
their usual working order."

"They are, Gus. I've got a cab out here; we'll go on together."

"Rather! I must find some one to see to the traps, though."

"I've commandeered young Grim," said Jim, "and he'll see to them."

"Provident beggar! Here you are, Grim. Put mine into Taylor's cart, and
here's a shilling for you."

Grim, who felt rather injured at being lagged by Cotton so early in the
term, just at the moment, too, when he had caught sight of Wilson
staggering along with a heavy hat-box, etc., seized Jim's and Gus's
effects. Todd's modest _douceur_, however, took off the rough edge of
his displeasure.

After tea, Cotton and Todd strolled about, and finally came to anchor
behind the nets, where some of the Sixth were already at practice.

"Phil Bourne's good for a hundred at Lord's," said Jim, critically,
watching Phil's clean, crisp cutting with interest.

"There's Acton out, too."

"Raw," said Jim. "Biffen's beauty has never been taught to hold his bat,
that is evident. Footer is more his line, I take it."

"Are you going to have a try for the eleven, Jim, this year?"

"I'll see how things shape. If Phil Bourne gives me the hint that I have
a chance, I'll take it, of course."

"Will he give Acton the hint, think you?"

"I shouldn't say so," said Jim, as Acton's stumps waltzed out of the
ground for the fourth time. "He can't play slows for toffee."

"Rum affair about the footer cap," said Gus.

"Rather so. But I believe Phil Bourne is as straight as a die. I'm not
so sure of Acton, though. I fancy there's something to be explained
about the cap. By the way, Gus, are you going to loaf about this term as
usual? Taylor's house side really does want bigger fellows than it's
got."

"No!" said Gus. "I'm no good at cricket, nor croquet, nor any other
game; nor do I really care a song about them. All the same, I'm not
going to loaf."

"What is the idea?" said Jim, curiously.

"I'm going to have a shot