ked off.

For the first five minutes nothing of interest happened. Damer's
played collectively; the Manorites rather waited upon the individual.
When Scaife's chance came, so it was predicted, he would go through the
Damer's centre as irresistibly as a Russian battleship cuts through a
fleet of fishing-smacks.

Rutford being absent, Dumbleton, the butler, stood well to the fore.
He never missed a house-match, and no one could guess, looking at his
wooden countenance, how the game was going; for he accepted either
defeat or victory with dignified self-restraint. A smart bit of work
provoked a bland, "Well played, sir, _very well_ played, sir!" uttered
in the same respectful tone in which he requested Lovell, let us say,
to go to Mr. Rutford's study after prayers. The fags believed that
"Dumber," who had begun his career as boot-boy at the Manor in the
glorious days of old, had given notice to leave when he learned that
Dirty Dick was about to assume command; but had been prevailed upon to
stay by the promise of an enormous salary. Nothing disturbed his
equanimity. On the previous Saturday evening, John had heated the
wrong end of the poker in No. 15, knowing that Dumber's duty
constrained him to march round the House after "lights out," to rake
out any fires that might be still burning. Snug under his counterpane,
the practical joker awaited, chuckling, a choleric word from the
impassive and impeccable butler. How did Dumber divine that the poker
was unduly hot and black with soot underneath? Who can answer that
question? The fact remains that he seized John's best Sunday trousers
which were laid out on a chair, and holding the poker with these,
accomplished his task without remark or smile. The trousers had to be
sent to the tailor's to be cleaned.

Not far from Dumber stood a group of small boys, including the unhappy
Fluff--unhappy because he was not playing, despite arduous training
(entirely to please John) and systematic coaching. His failure meant
further separation from John, whom, it will be remembered, he would
have been allowed to call by his Christian name, had he been included
amongst the Torpids. Of late, Fluff had not seen much of John, and in
his dark hours he allowed his thoughts to linger, not unpleasantly
sometimes, upon premature death and John's subsequent remorse.

Meantime, Scaife and Desmond were playing a furious game which must
have proved successful had it not been for the admir