You cannot write out the Head's usual few (which means five hundred) Latin lines and play football for one hour and three-quarters between the hours of 1.30 and 5 P.M. Winton had evidently no intention of trying to do so, for he hung about the corridor with a set face and an uneasy foot. Yet it was law in the school, compared with which that of the Medes and Persians was no more than a non-committal resolution, that any boy, outside the First Fifteen, who missed his football for any reason whatever, and had not a written excuse, duly signed by competent authority to explain his absence, would receive not less than three strokes with a ground-ash from the Captain of the Games, generally a youth between seventeen and eighteen years, rarely under eleven stone ('Pot' was nearer thirteen), and always in hard condition. King knew without inquiry that the Head had given Winton no such excuse. '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.