often wear--you can have them."

A shout of laughter greeted this ingenuous offer--but it saved my top-
coat. And when in time my flat-topped pot-hat and tan boots were
produced, there was general rejoicing. Each Philosopher present tried
them on in turn, and finally I was compelled to wear them, as well as my
top-coat, for the rest of the evening, and assist in a full-dress
rehearsal of the proposed hanging of the discipline master, in which,
greatly to my inconvenience, I was made to personate Mr Jarman.

The following day I was enjoying a little hard-earned solitude, and
amusing myself by leaning over the bridge and watching the boats below,
when a voice at my side startled me.

"Ah, my polite letter-writer, is that you? The very chap I want."

It was Crofter. My instinct at first, especially on the sly reference
to my letter of apology, was to fly. On second thoughts it seemed to me
wiser to remain. Crofter and Tempest were on better terms now. It
would be best to be civil.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Can you steer a boat?"

"A little," said I.

"Does that mean you can run it into the bank every few yards?"

"Oh no, I've often steered Tempest and Pridgin."

"Come along, then; I'm going to have a spin up to Middle-weir."

If there was one thing I enjoyed it was steering a boat, and I was not
long in accepting the invitation.

Crofter was not conferring a favour on me; only making a convenience of
me. So that I was not in any way making up to him. Our relations were
that of senior and fag only; and Tempest's and Pridgin's warnings to
beware when he was particularly friendly (even if it had not already
been cancelled by the fact that they now frequently had Crofter in their
rooms) could hardly apply now.

For all that, I did not feel quite comfortable, and was glad, on the
whole, that the embarkation did not take place under the eyes of my
patrons.

For some time Crofter sculled on in silence, giving me directions now
and again to keep in the stream, or take the boat well out at the
corners--which I considered superfluous. Presently, however, when we
were clear of Low Heath he slacked off and began to talk.

"I enjoyed that letter of yours," said he; "did you write it all
yourself?"

"Yes," said I, feeling and looking very uncomfortable.

"You and Tempest must be quite old chums."

"Yes."

"It's very rough on him, all this business."

"Yes, isn't it?" said I, somewhat won over by this