oasting-fork. "His study door was open when I passed."

"I say, why not rag his study?" suggested another thickly, through a
mouthful of toast.

Stanning smiled.

"Good idea," he said.

It struck him that some small upheaval of Sheen's study furniture,
coupled with the burning of one or two books, might check to some
extent that student's work for the Gotford. And if Sheen could be
stopped working for the Gotford, he, Stanning, would romp home. In the
matter of brilliance there was no comparison between them. It was
Sheen's painful habit of work which made him dangerous.

Linton had been listening to this conversation in silence. He had come
to the senior day-room to borrow a book. He now slipped out, and made
his way to Drummond's study.

Drummond was in. Linton proceeded to business.

"I say, Drummond."

"Hullo?"

"That man Stanning has come in. He's getting the senior day-room to rag
Sheen's study."

"What!"

Linton repeated his statement.

"Does the man think he owns the house?" said Drummond. "Where is he?"

"Coming up now. I hear them. What are you going to do? Stop them?"

"What do you think? Of course I am. I'm not going to have any of
Appleby's crew coming into Seymour's and ragging studies."

"This ought to be worth seeing," said Linton. "Look on me as 'Charles,
his friend'. I'll help if you want me, but it's your scene."

Drummond opened his door just as Stanning and his myrmidons were
passing it.

"Hullo, Stanning," he said.

Stanning turned. The punitive expedition stopped.

"Do you want anything?" inquired Drummond politely.

The members of the senior day-room who were with Stanning rallied round,
silent and interested. This dramatic situation appealed to them. They
had a passion for rows, and this looked distinctly promising.

There was a pause. Stanning looked carefully at Drummond. Drummond
looked carefully at Stanning.

"I was going to see Sheen," said Stanning at length.

"He isn't in."

"Oh!"

Another pause.

"Was it anything special?" inquired Drummond pleasantly.

The expedition edged a little forward.

"No. Oh, no. Nothing special," said Stanning.

The expedition looked disappointed.

"Any message I can give him?" asked Drummond.

"No, thanks," said Stanning.

"Sure?"

"Quite, thanks."

"I don't think it's worth while your waiting. He may not be in for some
time."

"No, perhaps not. Thanks. So long."

"So long."

Stanning turned on his heel, and