He paused and glared at Toby as if in challenge. Toby declined with thanks. It was clear that he would not improve matters by saying more at the moment. There was a brief silence. At last the new Head looked up. “There is another thing,” said he. “I like games to be taken seriously. Such frivolity as I saw this afternoon tends to have a very bad effect upon a boy. I hope you will bear that in mind in future games which you conduct.” Toby drew a deep breath. “I think you will understand better, sir,” said he, “if you will listen to me for a moment. The boy that you think was being terrorised had been laughing as loudly as any boy possibly could throughout the first half, whilst other boys with a better spirit were learning to play.” “Well,” said the Head crossly, “considering he was crying only this morning, why shouldn’t he laugh? I am very glad to know that his talk with me had so reassured him.” “It is a bad thing,” said Toby, “for boys who are learning a game to be laughed at from the touch-line by those who don’t care to try it themselves. Rugby football is compulsory at this school, and that fact has a very excellent effect. It was I who told him to come on and play. There was no bullying.” “My dear Nicholson,” said Dr Roe, “I have been a schoolmaster longer probably than you have been alive. Do you really think that I do not know a bully when I see one?” Toby endeavoured to retain his calm. “It is possible to be mistaken.” “I am not mistaken,” snapped the other. “But you see, sir,” insisted Toby, “you haven’t even spoken to Rouse.” “Because,” said Dr Roe, “I wish to learn all I possibly can about him before I do. I have spoken to the other lad, and I am satisfied that he is telling the truth. I have seen this fellow Rouse making himself a clown at a football match, and I have learnt from you that, although he has been five years at the school, he is not yet in the Sixth Form. It is clear that you have a good opinion of him yourself, but you are, after all, a young man, Nicholson.” “What has that to do with it?” asked Toby smilingly. “Well ... I understand,” said the other, “that this boy is the bosom chum of your own brother; and it is therefore not unlikely that he is a friend of your own....” He looked at Toby searchingly. “Under these circumstance, I cannot altogether expect that your good opinion of him is entirely unprejudiced.” “Then,” said Toby, “why did you trouble to ask my opinion, sir?” “I sent for you,” said the Head, “because you are games master, and I want to tell you that I do not approve of such buffoonery as took place during the game this afternoon.” Toby’s natural inclination was to bow politely and ask leave to pack his bag. But it was at just such a time as this that his love for Harley grew most profound. So he kept silent, and he stood for a moment looking at the new Headmaster thoughtfully and as clearly in pity as he deemed polite. “Do you wish to see Rouse?” said he at last.