ejudice against him. He was never
very amiable with Pocket Upton, a casual patient in every sense; but this
morning Dr. Bompas had some call to complain.

"You mean to tell me," he expostulated, "that you've gone back to the
cigarettes in spite of what I said last time? If you weren't a stupid
schoolboy I should throw up your case!"

Pocket did not wish to have his case thrown up; it would mean no more days
and nights in town. So he accepted his rebuke without visible resentment.

"It's the only way I can stop an attack," he mumbled.

"Nonsense!" snapped the specialist. "You can make yourself coffee in the
night, as you've done before."

"I can't at school. They draw the line at that."

"Then a public school is no place for you. I've said so from the first.
Your people should have listened to me, and sent you on a long sea voyage
under the man I recommended, in the ship I told them about. She sails the
day after to-morrow, and you should have sailed in her."

The patient made no remark; but he felt as sore as his physician on the
subject of that long sea voyage. It would have meant a premature end to
his undistinguished schooldays, and goodbye to all thought of following in
his brothers' steps on the field of schoolboy glory. But he might have
had adventures beyond the pale of that circumscribed arena, he might have
been shipwrecked on a desert island, and lived to tell a tale beyond the
dreams of envious athletes, if his people had but taken kindly to the
scheme. But they had been so very far from taking to it at all, with the
single exception of his only sister, that the boy had not the heart to
discuss it now.

"If only there were some medicine one could take to stop an attack!" he
sighed. "But there doesn't seem to be any."

"There are plenty of preventives," returned the doctor. "That's what we
want. Smoking and inhaling all sorts of rubbish is merely a palliative
that does more harm than good in the long run."

"But it does you good when the preventives fail. If I could get a good
night without smoking I should be thankful."

"If I promise you a good night will you give me your cigarettes to keep
until to-morrow?"

"If you like."

The doctor wrote a prescription while the boy produced the cardboard box
from his bag.

"Thank you," said Bompas, as they made an exchange. "I don't want you
even to be tempted to smoke to-night, because I know what the temptation
must be when you can't get