At a quarter to eleven the School always went out in a body to inspect the pitch. After the wicket had been described by experts in hushed whispers as looking pretty good, the bell rang, and all who were not playing for the team, with the exception of the lucky individual who had obtained for himself the post of scorer, strolled back towards the blocks. Monk had come out with Waterford, but seeing Farnie ahead and walking alone he quitted Waterford, and attached himself to the genial Reginald. He wanted to talk business. He had not found the speculation of the two pounds a very profitable one. He had advanced the money under the impression that Farnie, by accepting it, was practically selling his independence. And there were certain matters in which Monk was largely interested, connected with the breaking of bounds and the purchase of contraband goods, which he would have been exceedingly glad to have performed by deputy. He had fancied that Farnie would have taken over these jobs as part of his debt. But he had mistaken his man. On the very first occasion when he had attempted to put on the screw, Farnie had flatly refused to have anything to do with what he proposed. He said that he was not Monk's fag--a remark which had the merit of being absolutely true. All this, combined with a slight sinking of his own funds, induced Monk to take steps towards recovering the loan. 'I say, Farnie, old chap.' 'Hullo!' 'I say, do you remember my lending you two quid some time ago?' 'You don't give me much chance of forgetting it,' said Farnie. Monk smiled. He could afford to be generous towards such witticisms. 'I want it back,' he said. 'All right. You'll get it at the end of term.' 'I want it now.' 'Why?' 'Awfully hard up, old chap.' 'You aren't,' said Farnie. 'You've got three pounds twelve and sixpence half-penny. If you will keep counting your money in public, you can't blame a chap for knowing how much you've got.' Monk, slightly disconcerted, changed his plan of action. He abandoned skirmishing tactics. 'Never mind that,' he said, 'the point is that I want that four pounds. I'm going to have it, too.' 'I know. At the end of term.' 'I'm going to have it now.' 'You can have a pound of it now.' 'Not enough.' 'I don't see how you expect me to raise any more. If I could, do you think I should have borrowed it? You might chuck rotting for a change.' 'Now, look here, old chap,' said Monk, 'I should think you'd rather raise that tin somehow than have it get about that you'd been playing pills at some pub out of bounds. What?' Farnie, for one of the few occasions on record, was shaken out of his usual _sang-froid_. Even in his easy code of morality there had always been one crime which was an anathema, the sort of thing no fellow could think of doing. But it was obviously at this that Monk was hinting.