ared about giving
study suppers or any other sociable entertainment, when there was no
Browne to invite?

Browne had left us suddenly. One day he had been the life and soul of
Draven's, next morning he had been summoned to Draven's study, and that
same evening we saw him drive off to the station in a cab with his
portmanteau on the top.

Very few of the fellows knew why he had been expelled. I scarcely knew
myself, though I was his greatest chum. On the morning of the day he
left, he met me on his way back from Draven's study.

"I'm expelled, Smither," he said, with a dismal face.

"Go on," replied I, taking his arm and scrutinising his face to see
where the joke was hidden. But it was no joke.

"I am," said he hopelessly: "I am to go this evening. It's my own
fault. I've been a cad. I was led into it. It's bad enough; but I'm
not such a blackleg as Draven makes out--"

And here for the first time in my life I saw Browne look like breaking
down.

He wasn't going to let me see it, and hurried away before I could find
anything to say.

If he hadn't told me himself, I should have called any one who told me
Browne had been a cad--well, I'd better not say what I should have
called him. I knew my chum had been a rollicking sort of fellow, who
found it hard to say No to anybody who asked anything of him; but that
he was a blackleg I, for one, would not believe, for all the Dravens in
the world.

Hardly knowing what I did, I walked up to the master's study door and
knocked.

"Come in." I could tell by the voice that came through the door I
should do no good.

I went in. Mr Draven was pacing up and down the room, and stopped
short in front of me as I entered. "Well?"

I wished I was on the other side of the door; but I wasn't, and must say
something, however desperate.

"Please, sir, Browne--"

"Browne leaves here to-day," said Mr Draven coldly; "what do you want?"

"Please, sir, I hope you will--"

I forgot where I was and what I was saying. My mind wandered aimlessly,
and I ended my sentence I don't know how.

Draven saw I was confused, and wasn't unkind.

"You have been a friend of Browne, I know," he said, "and you are sorry.
So am I, terribly sorry," and his voice quite quavered as he spoke.

There was a pause, and I made a frantic effort to recall my scattered
thoughts.

"Won't you let him off this time, sir?" I gasped.

"That, Smither, is out of the question," said the head maste