“Now,” said he, with a sigh of relief, “I’m arranging a little party to-night to celebrate the new term. It won’t be after lights out or anything of that sort, but it’ll be rather a swagger affair, and I want you to go down and fetch me up some fodder. I shall give you a note—rather a special note—for a little private house just out of the town, and you’ll call there for a parcel. It’ll be done up in a cardboard box and you’ll be jolly careful—as careful as you know how—not to drop it, or anything like that. D’you see?” Bobbie slowly nodded his head. “On no account are you to tell anyone else about this,” continued Coles. “And you’re to go alone. I’m showing a good deal of trust in you in sending you at all. I usually get these things myself for safety, but to-night there’s the deputation on and I haven’t had time even to send out the invitations yet, so I’ll have to trust to you. You’d better remember how you stand with me and play the game. Tell nobody and go alone. On no account do you tell that Henry Hope of yours. D’you understand that?” Again Bobbie nodded his head, though this time it was clearly with some foreboding of the difficulties ahead. “You mustn’t even let him guess you’re going out for me at all, otherwise he’ll follow you and act the spy. He’s good at that. You must take the most absolute care. Otherwise you know what’ll happen. I shall report what I’ve just seen and the whole school will know about your father.” He reached out a hand and drove home these points with a severe clap on Bobbie’s shoulder. “Now you can go,” said he; “and come to me immediately after school this afternoon and I’ll give you the note and the address you’re to go to.” He turned with a portentous frown and walked away considerably more satisfied than he had been at any time during the day. To all intents and purposes Henry had vanished. In reality he had not, and at last Bobbie discerned him standing gravely beside a clump of ivy against the wall. He did not beckon to Bobbie. He just looked at him and the movement of his lips seemed to say, “Come,” just as it does when people look like that on the film. Bobbie came slowly and somewhat unhappily. “In your interests,” said Henry, when he had eventually reached his side, “I watched all. It wasn’t eavesdropping, because I couldn’t hear a word. But I could see Coles’ face and once I saw yours. I won’t ask you to tell me anything at all. Coles has sworn you to secrecy, I’ll bet. I could almost see him doing it. So don’t tell me anything you’d rather not. Just rest assured that you aren’t in such a hole as you think. I’m on your side. “There’s another thing,” he added, as if on an afterthought, “that you may not know, and that Coles may not know—but I happen to have heard from a reliable source that Rouse is going to ask for you to be his fag. As a matter of fact, it was Terence—Nicholson, that is—who told me. That ought to cheer you up!”