The worst of it was there was so very little to do, and Maddox had jawed David on this subject of “playing the goat” before, suggesting that the devil had entered into him. It was not quite that really: it was only the rampageous energy of David’s youth seeking an outlet. He was growing enormously, and, as sometimes happened, this process did not make him languid and slack, but seemed only to increase the vitality that stirred and bubbled in him as in some long-legged colt, making him throw up his limbs and scamper simply because he was vigorous and growing. But his escapades and general obstreperousness somewhat exercised his friend as well as his house-master, who at the present moment, while David and Bags were writing lines together, was talking to the prefect about the house in general, and the affairs of David in particular. His general line, as has been said, was to let the senior boys run the house, while he enjoyed the tranquillity that their management brought him. But David’s persistent adventures had protruded themselves into his notice, and a consultation with Maddox seemed to him desirable. “About David,” he said. “It’s only energy, Frank, and not viciousness. You gave just the same sort of trouble yourself, when you were his age.” “Sorry, sir,” said Maddox. “But I don’t believe I was ever quite such a nuisance as David is. If ever there’s a crash in the house, it’s always David breaking a window or throwing his boots at somebody.” “Can’t you do anything with him?” asked Adams. “He’ll listen to you when he won’t attend to a word I say.” “Oh, he listens to me all right,” said Maddox; “but then, he forgets. Besides, he’s so awfully funny: he makes me laugh.” Adams lit his pipe and sat down on the floor in front of the fire, for Maddox happened to be occupying his particular arm-chair. At the moment all the electric lights went out. “I’d bet a shilling,” said Maddox, “that David’s at the bottom of that. Shall I go and see, sir?” “Yes, do, and then come back.” Maddox felt his way along the passage to David’s study, and knocked. He always knocked before he went into other people’s rooms. “Come in,” shouted David. “But take care of yourself, whoever you are. There are inkpots about, and it’s as dark as hell and smells of cheese. Good old Bags; fancy finding a candle in this den. Hullo, Frank!” “Have you been fooling with the electric light?” asked Maddox. “Yes, of course. This beastly plug didn’t work and so I dug a knife into its bowels, and something went off, and gave me an awful start.” “Ass!” said Maddox. “You’ve put out the lights all over this passage and Adams’s study.” “Oh, what larks!” said David. “Let’s have a procession of the unemployed, who want to work like good little saps, and can’t work in the dark. Let’s——” “Let me just get at you,” said Maddox, as David dodged round the table. “I’ll teach you——” David squealed with hideous resonance.