tain of it as I can be of anything that I don't actually know
to be true."

"Why did he do it?"

"Do you feel anything about this, old man?"

"I feel in the bluest funk that I can remember."

"Then, that's why."

"You see, I cannot put my ringer on the brute."

"He has you in a cleft stick. Who knows that better than Acton?"

"I'm going to thrash Jack, the little idiot. I distinctly told him to
give Acton a wide berth."

"Jack, of course, is an idiot; but Acton is the fellow that wants the
thrashing."

Phil pondered over this for fully five minutes.

"You're right, old man, and I'll give--I'll try to give--him the
thrashing he deserves."

"Big biz," said I. "You say you aren't as good as Hodgson; Hodgson isn't
in the same street as Acton; _ergo_, you aren't in the same parish."

"That's your beastly logic, Carr. Does a good cause count for nothing?"

"Not for much, when you're dealing with sharps."

"I see _you've_ inherited your pater's law books. The school goes home
to-morrow, doesn't it? Well, my Lord Chief Justice, in what relation do
you stand towards the school to-morrow? Are you Captain?"

"No," said I, in my best legal manner. "There is no school
to-morrow--_ergo_, there cannot be a captain of a non-existent thing.
To-morrow is a _dies non_ as far as I'm concerned. Why this thirst for
knowledge, Phil?"

"Because I want you to be my second against Acton, and I didn't want
your captaincy to aid or abet me in a thing which is against rules."

"I see," said I, warmly, "and I will sink the rules and all the rest,
and trust to a little rough justice being done on an arrant scamp."

"Thanks," said Phil. "With you as second and a good cause, I ought to
teach Acton a little genuine lesson."

"I'd rather trust in a good straight left."

"All right, then. I'll see Acton now, and bring him to the point."

"Do, and let me have the result."

Phil swung off in that cool, level-headed fashion which is peculiarly
his own. He had thought the matter out thoroughly in that five minutes'
brown study, and now that he had put his hand to the plough he would not
look back. I liked the set shoulders and his even step down the
corridor. Surely something must reach Acton now! He walked down the
street, turned in at Biffen's yard, and mounted up to Acton's room. He
knocked firmly on the partly open door, and when he heard Acton's "Come
in," walked solidly in.

Acton smiled amiably when he saw his visitor, and,