"Welcome, my lad, welcome home!" cried Jack, as he greeted with a hard squeeze a young man who stood in the doorway. "First-rate you look too. He's filled out, eh, Simpson?" He tapped the young man's chest appreciatively, and surveyed his broad and massive shoulders with almost professional admiration. "Canada's agreed with you, Andy. Have you just got here?" "No; I got here two hours ago. You were out, so I left my bag and went for a walk round the old place. It seems funny to be in Meriton again." "Come into the office. We must drink your health. You too, Simpson. Come along." He led the way to a back room, where, amid more severe furniture and appliances, there stood a cask of beer. From this he filled three pint mugs, and Andy Hayes' health and safe return were duly honoured. Andy winked his eye. "Them teetotallers!" he ejaculated, with a very fair imitation of Simpson, who acknowledged the effort with an answering wink as he drained his mug and then left the other two to themselves. "Yes, I've been poking about everywhere--first up to have a look at the old house. Not much changed there--well, except that everything's changed by the dear old governor's not being there any more." "Ah, it was a black Christmas that year--four years ago now. First, the old gentleman; then poor Nancy, a month later. She caught the fever nursin' him; she would do it, and I couldn't stop her. Did you go to the churchyard, Andy?" "Yes, I went there." After a moment's grave pause his face brightened again. "And I went to the old school. Nobody there--it's holidays, of course--but how everything came back to me! There was my old seat, between Chinks and the Bird--you know? Wat Money, I mean, and young Tom Dove." "Oh, they're both in the place still. Tom Dove's helpin' his father at the Lion, and Wat Money's articled to old Mr. Foulkes the lawyer." "I sat down at my old desk, and, by Jove, I absolutely seemed to hear the old governor talking--talking about the Pentathlon. You've heard him talk about the Pentathlon? He was awfully keen on the Pentathlon; wanted to have it at the sports. I believe he thought I should win it." "I don't exactly remember what it was, but you'd have had a good go for it, Andy." "Leaping, running, wrestling, throwing the discus, hurling the spear--I think that's right. He was talking about it the very last day I sat at that desk--eight years ago! Yes, it's eight years since I went out to the war, and nearly five since I went to Canada. And I've never been back! Well, except for not seeing him and Nancy again, I'm glad of it. I've done better out there. There wasn't any opening here. I wasn't clever, and if I had been, there was no money to send me to Oxford, though the governor was always dreaming of that." "Naturally, seein' he was B.A. Oxon, and a gentleman himself," said Jack.