ut to bed he threw the junior dean's
bicycle through Chard's window.

Chard spent the next morning making out a little bill. It amused him.
In addition to ordinary claims for broken glass he included other
items, as:

"To new tablecloth to replace old cloth spoiled by ink upset by bicycle
propelled by Mr R. W. Smith-Aitken--one guinea."

"To essay on Austin's 'Theory of Sovereignty,' spoiled by ink upset by
bicycle as before: at two guineas a thousand words--four guineas."

The total amount claimed was twelve pounds ten shillings.

By return of messenger Chard received a cheque for that amount.

Smith-Aitken had made the obvious retort. Chard couldn't, he thought,
take the money when the damage had really been small. Chard considered
the problem: he was disagreeably surprised at receiving the cheque: it
had made him look a fool. There was only one reply, to cash the cheque
and give the money to a hospital. This he did. Smith-Aitken, on
discovering what had happened, was furious. The money didn't matter
much to him, but he didn't see why he should have to pay four guineas
for making a splash of ink on one of Chard's jocular essays; besides,
he now looked the fool. But he was very polite to Chard whenever he
met him and they talked to one another with urbanity.

On the afternoon of the great day on which Chard and Bavin were to
batter one another in the arena of the Oxford Union Society, Chard was
walking across the quad when Smith-Aitken came out of the porch. He
carried a telegram in his hand and rushed up to Chard at once.

"I've just seen Bob Marshall," he said. Marshall was the President of
the Union, a new Tory blood and a close friend of Smith-Aitken's. "He
has had this telegram from Bavin. It says that his car has broken down
badly. They're close to a village with a telegraph but miles from a
railway. He wants someone to go and fetch him in. Marshall is too
busy; he's got to see to the dinner and a heap of things. But he saw
me in my car and asked me to run out. You've met Bavin, haven't you?
What's he like?"

"I met him at a dinner once," said Chard. "Successful barrister. Face
like a hatchet. Stern, morose, and inexorable, you know the type. But
I believe he's nicer than he looks."

"Well, look here. You'd better come and talk to him while I drive him
in. It would be better to have someone who knows the man. You can
arrange what names to call each other."

Chard was attracted