governor died when I was a
kid."

The other gasped; then he threw back his curly head and laughed.

"I say, I beg your pardon. I didn't mean to laugh. If you're not
Hardacre, who are you?"

"Verney. I've just come."

"Verney? That's a great Harrow name. Are you any relation to the
explorer?"

"Nephew," said John, blushing.

"Ah--you ought to have been here last Speecher.[2] We cheered him, I
can tell you. And the song was sung: the one with his name in it."

"Yes," said John. Then he added nervously, "All the same, I don't know
a soul at Harrow."

Desmond smiled. The smile assured John that his name would secure him
a cordial welcome. Desmond added abruptly, "My name, Desmond, is a
Harrow name. My father, my grandfather, my uncles, and three brothers
were here. It does make a difference. What's your house?"

"The Manor," said John, proudly.

"Dirty Dick's!" Then, seeing consternation writ large upon John's
face, he added quickly, "We call _him_ Dirty Dick, you know; but the
house is--er--one of the oldest and biggest--er--houses." He continued
hurriedly: "I'm going into Damer's next term. Damer's is always
chock-a-block, you know."

"Why is Rutford called 'Dirty Dick'?" John asked nervously. "He
doesn't _look_ dirty."

"Oh, we've licked him into a sort of shape," said Desmond. "I
_believe_ he toshes now--once a month, or so."

"Toshes?"

"Tubs, you know. We call a tub a 'tosh.' When Dirty Dick came here he
was unclean. He told his form--oh! the cheek of it!--that in his
filthy mind one bath a week was plenty," unconsciously the boy mimicked
the thick, rasping tones--"two, luxury, and three--superfluity! After
that he was called Dirty Dick. There's another story. They say that
years ago he went to a Turkish bath, and after a rare good scraping the
man who was scraping him--nasty job that!--found something which Dirty
Dick recognized as a beastly flannel shirt he had lost when he was at
the 'Varsity. But only the Fourth Form boys swallow _that_. Hullo!
There's a pal of mine. See you again."

He ran off gaily. John walked to the shop where straw hats were sold.
Here he met other new boys, who regarded him curiously, but said
nothing. John put on his hat, and gave Rutford's name to the young man
who waited on him. He had an absurd feeling that the young man would
say, "Oh yes--Dirty Dick's!" One very nice-looking pink-cheeked boy
said to another boy that he was at Damer's