iest term of the year--cricket and 'Ducker'[19] and Lord's. And we
shall know the form's swat thoroughly, and have time to enjoy ourselves.
You'll be with us. Your remove is a 'cert'--eh?"

John beamed. He had made certain that Caesar would be in the Third Fifth
next term and hopelessly out of reach.

"Oh yes, I shall get my remove. So will the Caterpillar."

"Hang the Caterpillar," said Desmond.

"He'd ask for a silken rope, as Lord Ferrers did," said John, with one
of his unexpected touches of humour. Again Desmond bent his head in the
gesture John knew so well, and laughed.

"I say, Verney, you _are_ a joker. Well, the old Caterpillar's a good
sort, but he's not fair to Scaife. Here we are!"

They ran upstairs to "tosh" and change. John found the Duffer just
slipping out of his ducks. He looked at John with a rueful grin.

"Are you going to chuck me?" he asked.

"Chuck you?"

"Fluff says you've chucked him. He was in here a moment ago to ask if
your nose was squashed. I believe the silly little ass thinks you the
greatest thing on earth."

"I don't chuck anybody," said John, indignantly. And he made a point of
asking Fluff to walk with him on Sunday.

After the Torpid matches the school settled down to train (more or less)
for the athletic sports. John came to grief several times at Kenton
brook, essaying to jump it at places obviously--as the Duffer pointed
out--beyond his stride. The Duffer and he put their names down for the
house-handicaps, and curtailed their visits to the Creameries. After
this self-denial it is humiliating to record that neither boy succeeded
in winning anything. Caesar won the house mile handicap; Scaife won the
under sixteen high jump--a triumph for the Manor; and Fluff, the
despised Fluff, actually secured an immense tankard, which one of the
Sixth offered as a prize because he was quite convinced that his own
particular pal would win it. The distance happened to be half a mile.
Fluff was allowed an enormous start and won in a canter.

The term came to an end soon after these achievements, and John spent a
week of the holidays at White Ladies, the Duke of Trent's Shropshire
place. Here, for the first time, he saw that august and solemn
personage, a Groom of the Chambers, with carefully-trimmed whiskers, a
white tie, a silky voice, and the appearance of an archdeacon. This
visit is recorded because it made a profound impression upon a plastic
mind. John had never sat in the sea