dge. You accuse him in your own little mind of
feebleness, and so forth. Yes, just so. And it's doosid unfair to
Caesar, because he's given up his walk to-day entirely on your account.
Ah! I thought that would make you sit up."

"My account?" John repeated blankly.

"Yes; Caesar would be furious if he knew that I was peaching, but he
won't know, and instead of this--er--trifling affair weakening your
good opinion of your pal, it will strengthen it."

"Oh, do go on, Caterpillar."

"Yesterday I was in Lovell's room. We were talking of the first House
match. Scaife and Caesar were there. I took it upon myself to say you
ought to be given your 'cap'; and then Caesar burst out, 'Oh yes,
Lovell, do give him his "cap." If you knew how he'd slaved to earn
it.' But Lovell only laughed. And then Scaife chipped in, 'Look here,
Caesar,' he said, 'do I understand that you put this thing, which after
all is none of your business or mine, as a favour which Lovell might do
_you_?' And Caesar answered, 'You can put it that way, if you like,
Demon.' And then Scaife laughed. I don't like Scaife's laugh,
Jonathan."

"I loathe it," said John.

"Well, when Scaife laughed, Lovell looked first at him and then at
Caesar. It came to me that Lovell was primed to say something. At any
rate, he turned to Caesar, and said slowly, 'Tit for tat. If I do this
for you, will you do something for me?' And Caesar spoke up as usual,
without a second's hesitation, 'Of course, I will.' And then Scaife
laughed again, just as Lovell said, 'All right, I'll give Verney his
"cap" before tea, and you will make a fourth at bridge with us
to-morrow afternoon.'"

"Oh, oh!" groaned John.

"Dash it all, don't look so wretched. There's not much more. Caesar
hesitated a moment. Then he said quietly enough, 'Done!' Personally,
I don't think Lovell was playing--well--cricket, but I do know that he
wanted a fourth at bridge, because I'd just refused to make that fourth
myself. They play too high for me."

"It's awfully good of you to have told me this."

"Pray don't mention it! Hullo! What's up now?"

John's face was very red, and his fists were clenched.

"Nothing," he gasped. "Only this--I'd like to kill Scaife. I'd like
to cut off his infernal head."

The Caterpillar laughed indulgently. "Jonathan, you're a rum 'un. You
think it wicked to play cards on Sunday; but you would like"--he
imitated John's trembling, passionate voice