“I shall simply descend to the bottom of the form,” he said. “Private tutor too, in the Easter holidays. Oh, damn, I think you might have managed something. Maddox lays on, too. It’s a blasted affair.” David had grown in breadth no less than in height during this last half-year, but it was an extremely limp figure that appeared in Maddox’s study a few minutes afterwards, with eight volumes of Mr. Bohn’s classical series. He had felt rather queer all morning, and the sight of a racquet-handle on the table gave him an unpleasant qualm. Maddox took the books from him. “These are all, David?” he asked. “Yes. That’s the lot.” “Anything to say?” asked Maddox. David might have had something to say, namely, that everybody cribbed in Tovey’s. But it never occurred to him, however remotely, to say it. “No,” he said, “’cept that I’ve got beastly thin flannels on.” “So I see. I’m not going to jaw you as well as lick you, but cribbing’s an utterly rotten game, and I always whack anybody whom I find doing it. So get over that chair. I shall give you six.” “Gosh,” said David quietly, presenting himself. Maddox gave him four, and not in fun; it was not meant to be fun, and David felt the cold sweat stand on his forehead. He could just prevent himself from crying out, but there was not much to spare, and he felt doubtful if he could stand two more. But Maddox, at the same moment, felt that he certainly couldn’t, and he threw the racquet-handle into the corner. “That’s enough,” he said. David straightened himself up and turned round, wiping the sweat from a very white face. “You—you can whack,” he said. “I say, I feel rather bad. May I——” There was a sudden singing in his ears, and Maddox caught him as he reeled, and put him gently down into a chair, as he leaned on him. But David’s faintness was only momentary, and, recovering almost instantly, he saw that Maddox was looking almost as queer as he himself felt. “I’m all right again,” he said. “I say, thanks awfully for not giving me six. Rotten of me to feel squeamish, but I couldn’t help it.” “I say, for God’s sake don’t crib again, David,” he said, “or anyhow, don’t let me catch you.” David smiled and got up rather gingerly. He understood nothing of what was in his friend’s mind, knowing only that he had been caught with a crib, and that summary retribution had been most effectively carried out. “I’ll jolly well try not to,” he said. “Right. Shake a paw, then,” said Maddox. “By the way, Bags tried to make me think the crib was his—told me so in fact—but then I found your name.” David stared. “Jolly decent of Bags,” he said. “But whatever did he do that for?” “I expect he’s rather fond of you,” remarked Maddox. * * * * *