said, keenly examining John's face. "We
can't have too many Verneys. If I can do anything for you, let me know."

He nodded, and strode on. John saw that several boys were staring with a
new interest. None, however, spoke to him; and he returned to his room
with a blushing face. Scaife had unpacked his clothes and put them away;
he was now surveying the bare walls with undisguised contempt.

"Isn't this a beastly hole?" he remarked.

John, always interested in people rather than things, examined the room
carefully. Passing down the passage he had caught glimpses of other
rooms: some charmingly furnished, gay with chintz, embellished with
pictures, Japanese fans, silver cups, and other trophies. Comparing
these with his own apartment, John said shyly--

"It's not very beefy."

"Beefy? You smell of a private school, Verney. Now, is it worth doing
up? You see, I shall be in a two-room next term. If we all chip in----"
he paused.

"I've brought back two quid," said John.

Scaife's smile indicated neither approval nor the reverse. John's
ingenuous confidence provoked none in return.

"We'll talk about it when Kinloch arrives. I wonder why his people sent
him here."

John had studied some books, but not the Peerage. The great name of
Kinloch was new to him, not new to Scaife, who, for a boy, knew his
"Burke" too odiously well.

"Why shouldn't his people send him here?" he asked.

"Because," Scaife's tone was contemptuous, "because the
Kinlochs--they're a great cricketing family--go to Eton. The duke must
have some reason."

"The duke?"

"Hang it, surely you have heard of the Duke of Trent?"

"Yes," said John, humbly. "And this is his son?" He glanced at the label
on the new portmanteau.

"Whose son should he be?" said Scaife. "Well, it's queer. Dukes[3] and
dukes' sons come to Harrow--all the Hamiltons were here, and the
FitzRoys, and the St. Maurs--but the Kinlochs, as I say, have gone to
Eton. It's a rum thing--very. And why the deuce hasn't he turned up?"

The clanging of a bell brought both boys to their feet.

"Lock-up, and call-over," said Scaife. "Come on!"

They pushed their way down the passage. Several boys addressed Scaife.

"Hullo, Demon!--Here's the old Demon!--Demon, I thought you were going
to be sacked!"

To these and other sallies Scaife replied with his slightly ironical
smile. John perceived that his companion was popular and at the same
time peculiar; quite different from any boy