have arrived
last week.'

'His Cap has not been given him. Officially, therefore, he is naught. I
rely on old Pot.'

'But Mullins is Winton's study-mate,' King persisted.

Pot Mullins and Pater Winton were cousins and rather close friends.

'That will make no difference to Mullins--or Winton, if I know 'em,'
said the Head.

'But--but,' King played his last card desperately, 'I was going to
recommend Winton for extra sub-prefect in my House, now Carton
has gone.'

'Certainly,' said the Head. 'Why not? He will be excellent by tea-time,
I hope.'

At that moment they saw Mr. Lidgett, tripping down the corridor, waylaid
by Winton.

'It's about that mouse-business at mechanical drawing,' Winton opened,
swinging across his path.

'Yes, yes, highly disgraceful,' Mr. Lidgett panted.

'I know it was,' said Winton. 'It--it was a cad's trick because--'

'Because you knew I couldn't give you more than fifty lines,' said Mr.
Lidgett.

'Well, anyhow I've come to apologise for it.'

'Certainly,' said Mr. Lidgett, and added, for he was a kindly man, 'I
think that shows quite right feeling. I'll tell the Head at once I'm
satisfied.'

'No--no!' The boy's still unmended voice jumped from the growl to the
squeak. 'I didn't mean _that_! I--I did it on principle. Please
don't--er--do anything of that kind.'

Mr. Lidgett looked him up and down and, being an artist, understood.

'Thank you, Winton,' he said. 'This shall be between ourselves.'

'You heard?' said King, indecent pride in his voice.

'Of course. You thought he was going to get Lidgett to beg him off the
impot.'

King denied this with so much warmth that the Head laughed and King went
away in a huff.

'By the way,' said the Head, 'I've told Winton to do his lines in your
form-room--not in his study.'

'Thanks,' said King over his shoulder, for the Head's orders had saved
Winton and Mullins, who was doing extra Army work in the study, from an
embarrassing afternoon together.

An hour later, King wandered into his still form-room as though by
accident. Winton was hard at work.

'Aha!' said King, rubbing his hands. 'This does not look like games,
Winton. Don't let me arrest your facile pen. Whence this sudden love
for Virgil?'

'Impot from the Head, sir, for that mouse-business this morning.'

'Rumours thereof have reached us. That was a lapse on your part into
Lower Thirdery which I don't quite understand.'

The 'tump-tump' of the puntabouts befor