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‘I have a ger-rudge against the man,’ he said.

‘You are an idiot, really,’ said Welch.

‘Welch,’ said Charteris, by way of explanation to MacArthur, ‘is a lad of coarse fibre. He doesn’t understand the finer feelings. He can’t see that I am doing this simply for the Old Man’s good. Spare the rod, spile the choild. Let’s go and have a look at Tony when we’re changed. He’ll be in the sick-room if he’s anywhere.’

‘All right,’ said the Babe, as he went into his study. ‘Buck up. I’ll toss you for first bath in a second.’

Charteris walked on with Welch to their sanctum.

‘You know,’ said Welch seriously, stooping to unlace his boots, ‘rotting apart, you really are a most awful ass. I wish I could get you to see it.’

‘Never you mind, ducky,’ said Charteris, ‘I’m all right. I’ll look after myself.’

Chapter 2

It was about a week after the Bargees’ match that the rules respecting bounds were made stricter, much to the popular indignation. The penalty for visiting Stapleton without leave was increased from two hundred lines to two extra lessons. The venomous characteristic of extra lesson was that it cut into one’s football, for the criminal was turned into a form-room from two till four on half-holidays, and so had to scratch all athletic engagements for the day, unless he chose to go for a solitary run afterwards. In the cricket term the effect of this was not so deadly. It was just possible that you might get an innings somewhere after four o’clock, even if only at the nets. But during the football season–it was now February–to be in extra lesson meant a total loss of everything that makes life endurable, and the School protested (to one another, in the privacy of their studies) with no uncertain voice against this barbarous innovation.

The reason for the change had been simple. At the corner of the High Street at Stapleton was a tobacconist’s shop, and Mr Prater, strolling in one evening to renew his stock of Pioneer, was interested to observe P. St H. Harrison, of Merevale’s, purchasing a consignment of ‘Girl of my Heart’ cigarettes (at twopence-halfpenny the packet of twenty, including a coloured picture of Lord Kitchener). Now, Mr Prater was one of the most sportsmanlike of masters. If he had merely met Harrison out of bounds, and it had been possible to have overlooked him, he would have done so. But such a proceeding in the interior of a small shop was impossible. There was nothing to palliate the crime. The tobacconist also kept the wolf from the door, and lured the juvenile population of the neighbourhood to it, by selling various weird brands of sweets, but it was only too obvious that Harrison was not after these. Guilt was in his eye, and the packet of cigarettes in his hand. Also Harrison’s House cap was fixed firmly at the back of his head. Mr Prater finished buying his Pioneer, and went out without a word. That night it was announced to Harrison that the Headmaster wished to see him. The Headmaster saw him, though for a certain period of the interview he did not see the Headmaster, having turned his back on him by request. On the following day Stapleton was placed doubly out of bounds.

Tony, who was still in bed, had not heard the news when Charteris came to see him on the evening of the day on which the edict had gone forth.

‘How are you getting on?’ asked Charteris.

‘Oh, fairly well. It’s rather slow.’

‘The grub seems all right.’ Charteris absently reached out for a slice of cake.

‘Not bad.’

‘And you don’t have to do any work.’

‘No.’

‘Well, then, it seems to me you’re having a jolly good time. What don’t you like about it?’

‘It’s so slow, being alone all day.’

‘Makes you appreciate intellectual conversation all the more when you get it. Mine, for instance.’

‘I want something to read.’