he had yet met.

They filed into a big room--the dining-room of the house--a square,
lofty hall, with three long tables in it. On the walls hung some
portraits of famous Old Harrovians. As a room it was disappointing at
first sight, almost commonplace. But in it, John soon found out,
everything for weal or woe which concerned the Manor had taken place or
had been discussed. There were two fireplaces and two large doors. The
boys passed through one door; upon the threshold of the other stood the
butler, holding a silver salver, with a sheet of paper on it.

"What cheek!" murmured Scaife.

"Eh?" said John.

"Dirty Dick isn't here. Just like him, the slacker! And when he does
come over on our side of the House, he slimes about in carpet
slippers--the beast!"

Lawrence entered as Scaife spoke. John saw that his strongly-marked
eyebrows went up, when he perceived the butler. He approached, and took
the sheet of paper. The butler said impressively--

"Mr. Rutford is busy. Will you call over, sir?"

At any rate, the butler, Dumbleton, was worthy of the best traditions of
the Manor. He had a shrewd, clean-shaven face, and the deportment of an
archbishop. The Head of the House took the paper, and began to call
over the names. Each boy, as his name was called, said, "Here," or, if
he wished to be funny, "Here, _sir_!"

"Verney?"

The name rang out crisply.

"Here, _sir_," said John.

The Head of the House eyed him sharply.

"Kinloch?"

No answer.

"Kinloch?"

Scaife answered dryly: "Kinloch's portmanteau has come." Then Dumbleton
said in his smooth, bland voice, "His lordship is in the drawing-room
with Mr. Rutford."

The boys exchanged knowing glances. Scaife looked contemptuous. The next
moment the last name had been called, and the boys scurried into the
passages. Lawrence was the first to leave the hall. Impulsively, John
rushed up to him.

"I didn't mean to be funny, I didn't really," he panted.

"Quite right. It doesn't pay," Lawrence smiled grimly, "for new boys to
be funny. I saw you didn't mean it."

Lawrence spoke in a loud voice. John realized that he had so spoken
purposely, trying to wipe out a new boy's first blunder.

"Thanks awfully," said John.

He reached his room to find three other boys busily engaged in abusing
their house-master. They took no notice of John, who leaned against the
wall.

"His lordship is in the drawing-room with Mr. Rutford."

A freckle-faced, red-headed yout