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After a time they came out together like long-lost brothers, Mellish with his hand on Bradshaw’s shoulder. It was some small comfort to me to remember that Bradshaw had the greatest dislike to this sort of thing.

It was evident that Bradshaw, able exponent of the art of fiction that he was, must have excelled himself on this occasion. I tried to get the story out of him in the study that evening. White and Kendal assisted. We tried persuasion first. That having failed, we tried taunts. Then we tried kindness. Kendal sat on his legs, and I sat on his head, and White twisted his arm. I think that we should have extracted something soon, either his arm from its socket or a full confession, but we were interrupted. The door flew open, and Prater (the same being our House-master, and rather a good sort) appeared.

‘Now then, now then,’ he said. Prater’s manner is always abrupt.

‘What’s this? I can’t have this. I can’t have this. Get up at once. Where’s Bradshaw?’

I rose gracefully to my feet, thereby disclosing the classic features of the lost one.

‘The Headmaster wants to see you at once, Bradshaw, at the School House. You others had better find something to do, or you will be getting into trouble.’

He and Bradshaw left together, while we speculated on the cause of the summons.

We were not left very long in suspense. In a quarter of an hour Bradshaw returned, walking painfully, and bearing what, to the expert’s eye, are the unmistakable signs of a ‘touching up’, which, being interpreted, is corporal punishment.

‘Hullo,’ said White, as he appeared, ‘what’s all this?’

‘How many?’ enquired the statistically-minded Kendal. ‘You’ll be thankful for this when you’re a man, Bradshaw.’

‘That’s what I always say to myself when I’m touched up,’ added Kendal.

I said nothing, but it was to me that the wounded one addressed himself.

‘You utter ass,’ he said, in tones of concentrated venom.

‘Look here, Bradshaw–‘ I began, protestingly.

‘It’s all through you–you idiot,’ he snarled. ‘I got twelve.’

‘Twelve isn’t so dusty,’ said White, critically. ‘Most I ever got was six.’

‘But why was it?’ asked Kendal. ‘That’s what we want to know. What have you been and gone and done?’

‘It’s about that Euripides paper,’ said Bradshaw.

‘Ah!’ said Kendal.

‘Yes, I don’t mind telling you about it now. When Mellish had me up after school today, I’d got my yarn all ready. There wasn’t a flaw in it anywhere as far as I could see. My idea was this. I told him I’d been to Yorke’s room the day before the exam, to ask him if he had any marks for us. That was all right. Yorke was doing the two Unseen papers, and it was just the sort of thing a fellow would do to go and ask him about the marks.’

‘Well?’

‘Then when I got there he was out, and I looked about for the marks, and on the table I saw the Euripides paper.’

‘By Jove!’ said Kendal. We began to understand, and to realize that here was a master-mind.

‘Well, of course, I read it, not knowing what it was, and then, as the only way of not taking an unfair advantage, I did as badly as I could in the exam. That was what I told Mellish. Any beak would have swallowed it.’

‘Well, didn’t he?’

‘Mellish did all right, but the rotter couldn’t keep it to himself. Went and told the Old Man. The Old Man sent for me. He was as decent as anything at first. That was just his guile. He made me describe exactly where I had seen the paper, and so on. That was rather risky, of course, but I put it as vaguely as I could. When I had finished, he suddenly whipped round, and said, “Bradshaw, why are you telling me all these lies?” That’s the sort of thing that makes you feel rather a wreck. I was too surprised to say anything.’

‘I can guess the rest,’ said Kendal. ‘But how on earth did he know it was all lies? Why didn’t you stick to your yarn?’

‘And, besides,’ I put in, ‘where do I come in? I don’t see what I’ve got to do with it.’

Bradshaw eyed me fiercely. ‘Why, the whole thing was your fault,’ he said. ‘You told me Yorke was setting the paper.’

‘Well, so he did, didn’t he?’

‘No, he didn’t. The Old Man set it himself,’ said Bradshaw, gloomily.