t Low Heathens, accosted
me. He was evidently not at home in the school precincts, and, with my
usual modesty, I felt he had come to the right source for information.

"Do you belong to Mr Sharpe's house, young gentleman?" said he, with a
respectful nod which quite captivated me.

"Yes. Who do you want?"

"I want to see Mr Tempest very particular."

"Oh, he's up in his room. Wait a bit till the bell rings, and he'll
come out."

So Mr Marple and I stopped and chatted about the holidays, which were
to begin in a day or two, and the football matches and the river.

"You know Mr Tempest pretty well?" said he.

"Rather; I'm his fag, you know."

"A nice gentleman, I fancy. Pretty well off, eh?"

"Oh no. He's a swell, but his people are poor, I know."

"Oh, indeed. Not likely to buy much in my way, eh?"

"Rather not. He's hard up as it is. It's not much good your trying to
sell him anything," said I, remembering the rumour about my friend's
indebtedness, and anxious to screen him from further debt.

"Ah, indeed--he's in debt, is he--all round?"

"How do you know that?" said I, bristling up. "I don't expect he owes
you anything."

Mr Marple laughed.

"That's just what he does; that's why I've stepped over. I don't like
showing young gents up, but--"

"Look here," cried I aghast, "for mercy's sake, don't show him up,
Marple! It's as likely as not he's to be expelled as it is; this would
finish him up."

"If he's likely to be expelled, all the more reason I should get my
money before he goes."

"How much is it?" I gasped.

"A matter of two pounds," said the tradesman.

"Look here," said I, "I'll promise you shall be paid. Wait till the
last day of the term, do, Marple."

Mr Marple stared at me. The security I fear was not good enough for
him. On the other hand, he probably knew that it would not be good for
trade if he were to show up a "Low Heathen."

He took an envelope from his pocket and handed it to me. It contained
Tempest's bill for sundry stationery, magazines, books, postage stamps,
and so on; headed "Fourth and final application." The envelope itself
was addressed, "Dr England, with W. Marple's respectful compliments."

The bell rang just then, and I was so anxious to get Marple off the
scene that I wildly promised anything to be rid of him, and was finally
left, just in time, to meet Tempest unconsciously strolling across the
quadrangle on his way to keep his appointment