Trevor flushed as he answered hurriedly: “It was so bally chilly here when I came in, you know; and I thought that maybe you’d catch cold. So I threw that over you. Just pitch it on the floor there.” “Thanks,” said Dick. “I expect it was chilly. I was going to put another stick on the fire, and while I was thinking about it I suppose I fell asleep. It’s pretty late, isn’t it? Well, to-morrow’s Sunday.” He arose and the two began to prepare for bed. There was something in Dick’s tone and manner quite friendly, and Trevor was puzzled. “That was a great race you ran, Nesbitt,” said the former presently. “The last one wasn’t so bad,” answered Trevor. “Bad! It was fine!” replied Dick warmly. “It was the best bit of head-work I’ve seen on a track. And I was glad you beat Taylor, even if it did mean the loss of the race to the seniors. But I rather think I liked the first race better.” “Well, of course you would,” said Trevor. “Earle’s a friend of yours; and he ran a good race. I--I didn’t much mind his beating; he seems like a jolly good sort of a chap.” “He is a good chap; and I know it pleased him like anything to win that race, because his father and mother were there, you see.” “Yes.” “It would have been too bad if he’d lost it, wouldn’t it?” Dick was smiling rather queerly, Trevor thought. “I suppose it would,” he answered. “Yes; and so you gave it to him.” “What--what do you mean?” stammered Trevor, very red and uncomfortable. “Why,” laughed Dick, “just what I said. You’re not going to deny that you slowed down and let him win, are you?” For a long moment Trevor was very busy with his nightshirt, which suddenly exhibited an unwonted dislike to going on. Then: “I fancy there’s no use denying it,” he muttered from the folds of the mutinous garment. “Not a bit,” answered Dick smilingly. “You see,” explained Trevor presently, “Earle had set his heart on winning, and it didn’t mean anything to me, you know; I hadn’t any relatives looking on; and then his mother was so--so jolly nice about it, and his father, and--and all, that I just thought he might as well win. Doesn’t it--don’t you think it was all right?” “Well, it wasn’t exactly fair, you know; but I guess it was something even better,” answered Dick. “Do you think Earle suspected anything?” “I’m sure I don’t know; I didn’t see him. But Williams and Todd, who were sitting with me, thought it was a straight race, and so I guess Earle thought so too.” Later, when the lights were out and the two were in bed, Dick broke the silence. “Are you awake, Nesbitt?” “Yes,” came the reply from across the darkness. “I’ve been thinking I’d take a good, long walk to-morrow after church; up the river toward Port Wallace. Like to go along?” “I should say so!” was the hearty reply. “All right, I wish you would. Good-night.”