Tony’s first year at Deal in the Third Form, as we have seen, had been a varied one. After the exciting events of the Michaelmas and Lent terms, his life had pursued a more even tenor of way. Chapin’s detection and expulsion had served to reinstate Deering in the confidence of both masters and boys, and his genial sunshiny nature was winning for him a deserved popularity. He and Carroll, the latter now a Sixth Former, though they no longer roomed together, were excellent friends, but his real intimates were Kit Wilson and Jimmie Lawrence, the latter of whom shared his room in Standerland, while Kit lived but a few doors down the corridor. With Mr. Morris, the house master, he was on very good terms indeed. He had made his place in the football team in Fourth Form year, and had played a good game but he had not distinguished himself that year. Now again in the Michaelmas term of the Fifth Form year he was engaged in daily football practice, and was again looking forward to the exciting contest in November. It is scarcely necessary to say that Tony’s two friends had not taken his declaration of making a friend of Finch very seriously, though they decided with him in a good-natured way to protect the new boy from the thoughtless or ill-natured hazing he was like to get at the hands of lower formers. A night or so after Finch’s arrival at school, Reggie Carroll dropped in at Number Five Standerland to see his younger friends. Jimmie was working in the study, but Tony had turned in early. Reggie stuck his head into the door of Deering’s bedroom and discovered its occupant, having got ready for bed, just about to turn off the light. “Come in,” said Tony, “and find something comfortable to sit down on—the bed will do. Where are you wandering this time of night?” “Well, it is only nine o’clock,” said Reggie, “and as a matter of fact, I was wandering over to have a ‘jaw’ with you, as you sometimes so delicately term a heart to heart talk.” “Well, fire away,” said Tony, but in tones that did not hint he expected to find the conversation interesting. He was rather pensive, unwontedly silent, and looked out of his window over the dark fields. Reggie essayed several topics of conversation, but without much success. He was about to take his leave, when something in Tony’s expression arrested his attention. “What on earth is the matter with you, boy?” he asked at last, as he playfully grabbed Tony by the shoulder and began to maul him. “Let up!” cried Tony. “Can’t you see I’m thinking out the problems of the universe? You mess me all up and I don’t know where I’m at.” “Well, compose yourself, and let me offer you advice.” “Let up then, do! And consider the appropriateness of the figures of speech, as Gumshoe would say. Bill Morris has been darn white to me——” “Rather,” commented Reggie, with a smile, “we are all green with envy at his whiteness.”