“I’ll get dressed. We’ll get away from here. Sit down for a moment. Tell me while I dress. What has he made you do?” Bobbie began to talk. The secrets came out one by one. “This afternoon,” said Bobbie, “I had to get him another bottle. And when I’d got it I came away by the train at seven o’clock. I was seen coming out. I can’t go back. If they’ve found out that I came up here I shall be expelled. And if they haven’t found out, and I managed to get in, then I shall have to go on doing whatever Coles tells me to.” He paused. “Next term,” he said presently, “Coles expects to be captain of boxing. How could I enjoy boxing with him as captain? Let me go to another school, father. Somewhere where nobody need know at all if you don’t want them to, but not to a place where I have to keep the secret by being contemptible.” His father was dressed and he did not look at him at all. He just took his arm and began to lead him out through the crowded room. Everywhere men were calling to him. Johnny took no notice. He just made a gesture of farewell and went out into the street with Bobbie. “There may be a means,” he said at last. “Perhaps I can think it out. It’s a terrible thing to run away. You’ll have to go back. If none of the masters know you came there may be a way to get you back. Who was it saw you leave?” “It’s a boy who wouldn’t tell,” said Bobbie. “But I——” He stopped abruptly. A man had come upon them from behind, and now his hand reached out and was resting upon Bobbie’s shoulder. Bobbie turned with a start, and as he looked up he knew the sudden shock of a man ducked suddenly in cold water. For the first time since he had left the school he felt the touch of guilt, not for his father, but because by a freak of Fate it was Mr Nicholson who had found him out. Toby it was who stood looking down at him. He knew as well as any boy that it was through Toby’s influence that the fellows at Harley had been persuaded to stick it out without making a cock-shy of the school. And finding him unexpectedly at liberty in London, Toby would not understand the truth. He would think that he, Bobbie Carr, had been the only boy in Harley who had given in. There was a short dramatic silence. Then, as Bobbie looked up once again, wondering whether he ought to speak or whether to leave this to his father, he noticed a most remarkable fact—_i.e._ Toby was smiling. What made this more remarkable was that he was smiling not at him but, funnily enough, at that quiet-mannered little man, his father. And as Bobbie watched he slowly held out his hand. “You won’t remember me properly,” he said, “but I haven’t forgotten you, Johnny Winter.” Johnny had been looking from one to the other in acute distress, but now a memory was suddenly awakened within him, and he took Toby’s hand and looked and gently nodded his head.