Rouse looked at Coles now with cool forbearance. “As a matter of fact,” said he, “I met Carr a short while back, and as he’d got nothing to do I sent him on a little errand. You would have shouted like that all night and he wouldn’t have heard you. See how silly you make yourself.” Coles made an idiotic gesture. “Sent him on an errand?” said he. “But Carr’s my fag!” “Well, well,” said Rouse, “if you have anything you really want doing permit me to do it for you. I notice you want your neck washing.” Coles stepped forward, and leaned towards Rouse until his face was barely an inch away from his. Then he spoke through clenched teeth. “I don’t want any of that,” said he. “Understand, I don’t want it. Whether you’re captain of footer or not, I don’t want any of that.” He paused. “Otherwise you and I will come to blows. You’ve always thought it funny to pull my leg. It’s time it stopped.” At the time he presumably forgot that he had never failed to avail himself of any chance that had presented itself to him of insulting or annoying Rouse; nor that on two of the more recent occasions upon which Henry Hope had assisted Terence and Rouse out of a hole it had been he himself who had been instrumental in getting them into it. “You rather ask for it,” said Rouse gently. “If you could only see how perfectly childish you look in these tempers of yours you’d realise that a chap does you a good turn by trying to cure you. One of these days you’ll do something in a passion of fury that you’ll be sorry for.” Coles slowly withdrew his face. He then drew back a step and indicated Rouse with a warning finger. “Take care what you say,” said he darkly. “You be very careful.” Rouse sighed. “Before I go,” said he, “there’s one other thing. I’m going to see Morley to-day with a view to asking if I can have Carr for my fag and give you my own. Ludlow would be rather more suited to your temperament than Carr. Ludlow’s had a bit of experience. He’ll know what’s what—if you understand me—and Carr won’t. You can hardly have got used to Carr yet, so _you_ won’t mind, of course.” He stopped and looked at the other inquiringly. “Yes, I do mind,” said Coles. “I object very strongly. I particularly asked for Carr.” “Why did you do that?” “Because,” said Coles, “if you want to know—Carr’s a personal friend of mine. I know his family. That’s why.” He stood a moment watching the effect of this news and then turned abruptly, shot into his study, and flung the door to behind him with a resounding crash. “Exit Coles by door left centre,” whispered Rouse, and turning thoughtfully, made off at a dignified pace down the corridor. Back in his chair, Coles began to reflect anew. He was just a little puzzled as to why Rouse should want to take Carr away, but not very. Carr had evidently chummed up with Henry Hope, and Henry was a sworn ally of the firm of Rouse and Nicholson. So far it was easy to trace the course of events. It was merely the working of a clique.