"But, look here, it's rot. You _must_ keep your end up in a place
like this, or everybody in the house'll be ragging you. Chaps will,
naturally, play the goat if you let them. Has this ever happened
before?"

Sheen admitted reluctantly that it had. He was beginning to see things.
It is never pleasant to feel one has been bluffed.

"Once last term," he said, "Smith, a chap in Day's, came to tea like
that. I couldn't very well do anything."

"And Dunstable is in Day's. They compared notes. I wonder you haven't
had the whole school dropping in on you, lining up in long queues down
the passage. Look here, Sheen, you really must pull yourself together.
I'm not ragging. You'll have a beastly time if you're so feeble. I hope
you won't be sick with me for saying it, but I can't help that. It's
all for your own good. And it's really pure slackness that's the cause
of it all."

"I hate hurting people's feelings," said Sheen.

"Oh, rot. As if anybody here had any feelings. Besides, it doesn't hurt
a chap's feelings being told to get out, when he knows he's no business
in a place."

"Oh, all right," said Sheen shortly.

"Glad you see it," said Drummond. "Well, I'm off. Wonder if there's
anybody in that bath."

He reappeared a few moments later. During his absence Sheen overheard
certain shrill protestations which were apparently being uttered in the
neighbourhood of the bathroom door.

"There was," he said, putting his head into the study and grinning
cheerfully at Sheen. "There was young Renford, who had no earthly
business to be there. I've just looked in to point the moral. Suppose
you'd have let him bag all the hot water, which ought to have come to
his elders and betters, for fear of hurting his feelings; and gone
without your bath. I went on my theory that nobody at Wrykyn, least of
all a fag, has any feelings. I turfed him out without a touch of
remorse. You get much the best results my way. So long."

And the head disappeared; and shortly afterwards there came from across
the passage muffled but cheerful sounds of splashing.

IV

THE BETTER PART OF VALOUR

The borough of Wrykyn had been a little unfortunate--or fortunate,
according to the point of view--in the matter of elections. The latter
point of view was that of the younger and more irresponsible section of
the community, which liked elections because they were exciting. The
former was that of the tradespeople, who disliked them because they g