d aside.

"Look here, Jonathan," said Caesar, eagerly. "To please me, give up your
swatting scheme. We can't spoil the end of this jolly term."

He caught hold of John's arm, squeezing it affectionately. Never had our
hero been so sorely tempted.

"We must stick together, you and I," entreated Desmond.

"No," said John.

"As you please," Caesar replied coldly.

A detestable week followed. John tackled his Shakespeare alone, working
doggedly. Then, quite suddenly, the giant gripped him. He had always
possessed a remarkable memory, and as a child he had learnt by heart
many passages out of the plays (a fact well known to the crafty Warde);
but these he had swallowed without digesting them. Now he became keen,
the keener because he met with violent opposition from the Caterpillar
and the Duffer, who were of opinion that Shakespeare was a "back
number."

John won the prize, and on the following Speech Day saw his mother's
face radiant with pride and happiness, as he received the Medal from the
Head Master's hands.

"You look as pleased as if I'd got my Flannels," said John.

"Surely this Medal is a greater thing?"

"Oh, mum, you don't know much about boys."

"Perhaps not, but," her eyes twinkled, "I know something about
Shakespeare, and he's a friend that will stand by you when cricketing
days are over."

"If you're pleased, so am I," said John.

* * * * *

Scaife got his Flannels; and at Lord's his fielding was mentioned as the
finest ever seen in a Public School match. John witnessed the game from
the top of the Trent coach, and he stopped at Trent House. But he didn't
enjoy his exeat, because he knew that Caesar was in trouble. Caesar owed
Scaife thirteen pounds, and the fact that this debt could not be paid
without confession to his father was driving him distracted. Scaife, it
is true, laughed genially at Caesar's distress. "Settle when you please,"
he said, "but for Heaven's sake, don't peach to your governor! Mine
would laugh and pay up; yours will pay up and make you swear not to
touch another card while you're at Harrow."

"Just what he _will_ do," Caesar told John.

"And the best thing that could happen," John said bluntly. "If you don't
cut loose now, it will be much worse next term."

"Rot," Desmond had replied. "I'm paying the usual bill for learning a
difficult game. That's how the Demon puts it. But I've a turn for
bridge, and now I can hold my own. I'm bet