But the football saved him. If he went on this adventure he would never be half-back for the school; he would never be half-back for any school. He would in all probability never play football again. They did not play football in the South Seas. It was too hot. What was bathing compared with football? “I don’t think I’ll come,” he said slowly. “I’d only be in your way.” “Of course, if you funk it——” said Stokesley hotly. “I don’t funk it. But——” There was a knock on the door, and one of the junior masters walked in. “That’s enough talking, you kids,” he said. “If there’s another word, you’ll hear of it.” They lay then like images. II We all know how adventures, aspirations, longings that seem quite reasonable and attainable in the evening light are absurdly impossible in the morning cold. Jeremy next morning, as he ran round the football ground, felt that he could not have heard Stokesley aright. It was the kind of story that the dormitory tale-teller retailed before people dropped off to sleep. Stokesley was just inventing; he could not have meant a word of it. Nevertheless, later in the day, Raikes took him into a corner of the playground and whispered dramatically: “We’re going to do it. It’s all settled.” “Oh!” gasped Jeremy. “It’s to be next Sunday. You’re right about not coming. You’re too young.” Raikes sounded very old indeed as he said this. “You swear you won’t tell a living soul?” “Of course I won’t.” “You’ll swear by God Almighty?” “I swear by God Almighty.” “Never to breathe a word to any boy, master or animal?” “Never to breathe a word to any boy, master or animal.” “You’re a good sort, Stocky. Somehow, one can trust you—and one can’t most of them. They’ll be on to you after we’re gone, you know!” “I don’t care.” “They’ll try to get it out of you.” “I don’t care. They shan’t.” “In any way they can. Perhaps they’ll stop your football.” Jeremy drew a deep breath. “I don’t care,” he repeated slowly. “We’ll have a great time,” Raikes said, as though addressing his reluctant half. “We’ll come back ever so rich in a year or two, and then won’t you wish you’d come with us!” What Jeremy did wish was that they had told him nothing about it. Oh, how he wished it! Why had they dragged him in? Suppose they _did_ stop his football? Oh, but they couldn’t! It wasn’t his fault that he’d heard about it. “Look here, Raikes,” he said, “don’t you tell me any more. I don’t want to know anything about it. . . . Then they can’t come on me afterwards.” “That’s sound,” said Raikes. “All right; we won’t.”