ying is. Isn't there some gentleman friend of
yours at the college who would come here with you?"

They were sitting on the verandah when he asked this question. It was
growing dusk, and the evening seemed to invite confidences. Sheen,
looking out across the river and avoiding his friend's glance,
explained just what it was that made it so difficult for him to produce
a gentleman friend at that particular time. He could feel Mr Bevan's
eye upon him, but he went through with it till the thing was
told--boldly, and with no attempt to smooth over any of the unpleasant
points.

"Never you mind, sir," said Mr Bevan consolingly, as he finished. "We
all lose our heads sometimes. I've seen the way you stand up to
Francis, and I'll eat--I'll eat the medicine-ball if you're not as
plucky as anyone. It's simply a question of keeping your head. You
wouldn't do a thing like that again, not you. Don't you worry yourself,
sir. We're all alike when we get bustled. We don't know what we're
doing, and by the time we've put our hands up and got into shape, why,
it's all over, and there you are. Don't you worry yourself, sir."

"You're an awfully good sort, Joe," said Sheen gratefully.

XI

A SMALL INCIDENT

Failing a gentleman friend, Mr Bevan was obliged to do what he could by
means of local talent. On Sheen's next visit he was introduced to a
burly youth of his own age, very taciturn, and apparently ferocious.
He, it seemed, was the knife and boot boy at the "Blue Boar", "did a
bit" with the gloves, and was willing to spar with Sheen provided Mr
Bevan made it all right with the guv'nor; saw, that is so say, that he
did not get into trouble for passing in unprofessional frivolity
moments which should have been sacred to knives and boots. These terms
having been agreed to, he put on the gloves.

For the first time since he had begun his lessons, Sheen experienced an
attack of his old shyness and dislike of hurting other people's
feelings. He could not resist the thought that he had no grudge against
the warden of the knives and boots. He hardly liked to hit him.

The other, however, did not share this prejudice. He rushed at Sheen
with such determination, that almost the first warning the latter had
that the contest had begun was the collision of the back of his head
with the wall. Out in the middle of the room he did better, and was
beginning to hold his own, in spite of a rousing thump on his left eye,
when Joe Bevan c