’But he is practically a member of the First Fifteen.  He has played for it all this term,’ said King.  ’I believe his Cap should have arrived last week.’

’His Cap has not been given him.  Officially, therefore, he is naught.  I rely on old Pot.’

‘But Mullins is Winton’s study-mate,’ King persisted.

Pot Mullins and Pater Winton were cousins and rather close friends.

’That will make no difference to Mullins—­or Winton, if I know ’em,’ said the Head.

‘But—­but,’ King played his last card desperately, ’I was going to recommend Winton for extra sub-prefect in my House, now Carton has gone.’

‘Certainly,’ said the Head.  ’Why not?  He will be excellent by tea-time, I hope.’

At that moment they saw Mr. Lidgett, tripping down the corridor, waylaid by Winton.

‘It’s about that mouse-business at mechanical drawing,’ Winton opened, swinging across his path.

‘Yes, yes, highly disgraceful,’ Mr. Lidgett panted.

‘I know it was,’ said Winton.  ‘It—­it was a cad’s trick because—­’

‘Because you knew I couldn’t give you more than fifty lines,’ said Mr. Lidgett.

‘Well, anyhow I’ve come to apologise for it.’

‘Certainly,’ said Mr. Lidgett, and added, for he was a kindly man, ’I think that shows quite right feeling.  I’ll tell the Head at once I’m satisfied.’

‘No—­no!’ The boy’s still unmended voice jumped from the growl to the squeak.  ’I didn’t mean that!  I—­I did it on principle.  Please don’t—­er—­do anything of that kind.’

Mr. Lidgett looked him up and down and, being an artist, understood.

‘Thank you, Winton,’ he said.  ‘This shall be between ourselves.’

‘You heard?’ said King, indecent pride in his voice.

’Of course.  You thought he was going to get Lidgett to beg him off the impot.’

King denied this with so much warmth that the Head laughed and King went away in a huff.

‘By the way,’ said the Head, ’I’ve told Winton to do his lines in your form-room—­not in his study.’

‘Thanks,’ said King over his shoulder, for the Head’s orders had saved Winton and Mullins, who was doing extra Army work in the study, from an embarrassing afternoon together.

An hour later, King wandered into his still form-room as though by accident.  Winton was hard at work.

‘Aha!’ said King, rubbing his hands.  ’This does not look like games, Winton.  Don’t let me arrest your facile pen.  Whence this sudden love for Virgil?’

‘Impot from the Head, sir, for that mouse-business this morning.’

’Rumours thereof have reached us.  That was a lapse on your part into Lower Thirdery which I don’t quite understand.’

The ‘tump-tump’ of the puntabouts before the sides settled to games came through the open window.  Winton, like his House-Master, loved fresh air.  Then they heard Paddy Vernon, sub-prefect on duty, calling the roll in the field and marking defaulters.  Winton wrote steadily.  King curled himself up on a desk, hands round knees.  One would have said that the man was gloating over the boy’s misfortune, but the boy understood.