The manner in which the quickly passing word somehow avoided masters was enigmatical. It may be that some few of them knew without seeming to know. If so, there was not one enemy amongst them. For all the groups of boys that the Head might have seen any day standing about school deep in some earnest discussion, their eyes newly bright, all symptoms of their depression vanished, he never guessed the truth, so that each little band of friends were able to make their own arrangements for the journey to Rainhurst on that great day that was surely coming without one single obstructing order from the Head. Directly the school had reassembled after half-term Rouse sent for Henry Hope. “Henry,” said he to Terence, “can always indicate to a man the temper of the school in a few well-chosen words. Henry knows everybody. In short, what Henry thinks to-day Harley will think to-morrow.” Henry appeared before him without delay, and was interrogated. “As far as I know,” said he, “there’s nobody now who hasn’t heard.” “Has there been upraised,” demanded Rouse, “one single dissentient voice?” “There has not,” responded Henry; “except in places where it doesn’t matter.” Rouse nodded his head thoughtfully. “As far as you know, after moving about amongst all classes, you can safely say that the plan has the whole-hearted support of the school? Anyone who split now would most likely be lynched?” “Why, sure,” said Henry. “There is one other point. Do you think that amongst the rank and file who had been hit hardest by the great staleness of life up to half-term there is a general convalescence? Has the fever passed? In other words, are those sad eyes of which you spoke to me a while back now shining with the light of a great enthusiasm?” “Everybody seems frightfully bucked.” Rouse nodded once again, and this time with an air of finality. “Thank you very much for the very thorough manner in which you have carried out your investigations, Detective Hope,” said he. “You have been of the utmost service to Harley. It is only by keeping one’s finger continuously upon the pulse of the school that one can really hope to save them from their melancholia.” He turned. “That being so, Nick,” he observed, “we will go visit Smythe and he can commence operations forthwith.” It was late that evening that Smythe, on his round of selected studies, reached the little room that Coles called his own. Coles did not seem surprised to see him. He rose hospitably and produced a chair from a dark corner, turned to the fire and poked at it lustily. Smythe, however, proceeded to the business of the day without hesitation. “You’ve heard about the scheme that I’ve come about already, of course. All I’m doing now is interviewing the team that Rouse has picked. It’s a novel way of acting secretary. I’ll just show you this.”