loss of form, that Sheen
could not resist the temptation to confide in him. After all, he must
tell him some time.

"The fact is," he said, as they sat on the balcony overlooking the
river, waiting for Jack Bruce to return with his car, "I've had a bit
of a sickener."

"I thought you'd got sick of it," said Mr Bevan. "Well, have a bit of a
rest."

"I don't mean that I'm tired of boxing," Sheen hastened to explain.
"After all the trouble you've taken with me, it would be a bit thick if
I chucked it just as I was beginning to get on. It isn't that. But you
know how keen I was on boxing for the house?"

Joe Bevan nodded.

"Did you get beat?"

"They wouldn't let me go in," said Sheen.

"But, bless me! you'd have made babies of them. What was the instructor
doing? Couldn't he see that you were good?"

"I didn't get a chance of showing what I could do." He explained the
difficulties of the situation.

Mr Bevan nodded his head thoughtfully.

"So naturally," concluded Sheen, "the thing has put me out a bit. It's
beastly having nothing to work for. I'm at a loose end. Up till now,
I've always had the thought of the House Competition to keep me going.
But now--well, you see how it is. It's like running to catch a train,
and then finding suddenly that you've got plenty of time. There doesn't
seem any point in going on running."

"Why not Aldershot, sir? said Mr Bevan.

"What!" cried Sheen.

The absolute novelty of the idea, and the gorgeous possibilities of it,
made him tingle from head to foot. Aldershot! Why hadn't he thought of
it before! The House Competition suddenly lost its importance in his
eyes. It was a trivial affair, after all, compared with Aldershot, that
Mecca of the public-school boxer.

Then the glow began to fade. Doubts crept in. He might have learned a
good deal from Joe Bevan, but had he learned enough to be able to hold
his own with the best boxers of all the public schools in the country?
And if he had the skill to win, had he the heart? Joe Bevan had said
that he would not disgrace himself again, and he felt that the chances
were against his doing so, but there was the terrible possibility. He
had stood up to Francis and the others, and he had taken their blows
without flinching; but in these encounters there was always at the back
of his mind the comforting feeling that there was a limit to the amount
of punishment he would receive. If Francis happened to drive him into a
corner where