"Super-excellent, old fellow! Prodigious!" said Phil, with genuine admiration. "We'll all sleep with both ears on the pillow when the telegram comes from Aldershot. Such a left! He has a swinging, curly stroke which he uses after an artful little feint which would win the final by itself. Hodgson really seemed trying to catch quick-silver when he tried to get home on Acton. Where did Acton learn all this? The sergeant hasn't got that artful mis-hit in his bag of tricks." "Don't speculate on Acton's doings or where he picks up what he knows. It's too intricate." "What a pity one can't go and shake his hand as one would like to do. He is a marvel--this dark horse," said Phil, with genuine regret, as always when speaking of Acton. "Our _bête noir_," said I, without winking. "You heathen," said Phil, laughing. "That was almost a pun. But I'm afraid I'm a bit selfish in my joy about Acton. Since he's a certainty, I can devote all my mighty mind to rackets. I don't think there is a better pair in the place than Vercoe and self at present." "Oh, thou modest one!" "'Toby' always finishes up 'When you and Mr. Vercoe goes to Queen's Club, Mr. Bourne, I advise you, etc.' So, 'Toby' evidently has no doubt who's to go there." "Toby" Tucker was our racket professional, and when he spotted a pair for the public-school rackets, Fenton, the master who finally chose the pair, never said "Nay." "Toby" was incorruptible. With both his little eyes fixed inexorably on merit, the greatest joys of his life were consummated when the St. Amory's pair brought the championship home. "Congratulate you, old man. If Acton pulls off the Aldershot and you and Vercoe the rackets--" "If I only felt as confident on our lifting that as I do of Acton bringing off his, I'd go straightway and smother 'Toby.' He almost works one to death." CHAPTER XIX HOW THEY "'ELPED THE PORE FELLER" As a rule, the laboratory was empty on half-holidays, and Gus used to work through his tables in solitude, when he tried a little "bottle-washing" as a change from the refereeing, but one afternoon he found no less a person than W.E. Grim, the prize fag of Biffen's, doing something very seriously with a green powder. "Hullo, young 'un! What are you footling round here for?" "Lancaster has given me this salt to analyze, Todd. I think there's copper in it." "What have you been up to, that Lancaster has run you in? Half-holiday, too!" "He hasn't run me in," said Grim, sulkily. "As a special favour he's let me come in here to work a little myself. I did a ripping chemistry paper last week, and--" "Oh, I see. Are _you_ going to give Biffen's another leg up, too?" "Just as soon as you give Taylor's one," said Grim, who, in common with all the juniors, did not fear the easy-going Todd. "No cheek!" said Gus. "If I mixed up coal-dust and brick-dust, how'd you separate 'em?" "Ask my grandmother for a telescope, and look out the mix through the butt end."