term began with good resolutions upon the part of the better sort.

Very soon, however, with the shortening days, bridge began again. John
made no protest, afraid of losing his pal. He called himself coward,
and considered the expediency of learning bridge, so as to be in the
same boat with Caesar. Caesar told him that he had not asked his
brother Hugo for the thirteen pounds. Hugo, it seemed, had come back
from Teheran with a decoration and the air of an ambassador. He spoke
of his "services."

"I knew that Hugo would make me swear not to play again," said Caesar
to John, "and, naturally, I want to get some of the plunder back. I am
getting it back. I raked thirty bob out of Beaumont-Greene last night."

John said nothing.

Presently it came to his ears that Caesar was getting more plunder
back. The Caterpillar, an agreeable gossip, because he condemned
nothing except dirt and low-breeding, told John that Beaumont-Greene
was losing many shekels. And about the middle of October Caesar said
to John--

"What do you think, old Jonathan? I've jolly nearly paid on the Demon.
And you wanted me to chuck the thing. Nice sort of counsellor."

"Beaumont-Greene must have lost a pot?"

"You bet," said Caesar; "but that doesn't keep me awake at night. He
has got the _Imperishable Seamless Whaleskin Boot_ behind him."

Next time John met Beaumont-Greene he eyed him sharply. The big fellow
was pulpier than ever; his complexion the colour of skilly. Yes; he
looked much worried. Perhaps the "Imperishable Boot" lasted too long.
And, nowadays, so many fellows wore shoes. Thus John to himself.

Beaumont-Greene, indeed, not only looked worried, he was worried,
hideously worried, and with excellent reason. He had an absurdly,
wickedly, large allowance, but not more than a sovereign of it was
left. More, he owed Scaife twenty pounds, and Lovell another ten.
Both these young gentlemen had hinted plainly that they wanted to see
their money.

"I must have the stuff now," said Lovell, when Beaumont-Greene asked
for time. "I'm going to shoot a lot this Christmas, and the governor
makes me pay for my cartridges."

"So does mine," said Scaife, grinning. He was quite indifferent to the
money, but he liked to see Beaumont-Greene squirm. He continued
suavely, "You ought to settle before you leave. Ain't your people in
Rome? Yes. And you're going to join 'em. Why, hang it, some Dago may
stick a knife into you, and w