"Not a word, my dear fellow; I won't hear of it." "Very well, then; I shall shy the money when I get it into the nearest fish-pond." "All serene," said Wraysford, laughing; "I hope the fish will relish it." At that moment there was a knock at the door. "Come in," said Oliver. The door opened, and, to the astonishment of the two boys, Loman entered. Was it peace, or war, or what? Loman's miserable face and strange manner quickly answered the question. "Oh, Greenfield," he said, "excuse me. I want to speak to you;" and here he glanced at Wraysford, who rose to go. "Stay where you are, Wray," said Oliver. "What is it, Loman?" Loman, quite cowed, hardly knew how to go on. "I was glad to hear you got the Waterston," he said. "I--I thought you would." What was the fellow at? After a long pause, which seemed to drive Loman almost to despair, he said, "You'll wonder what I have come here for. I know we've not been friends. But--but, Greenfield, I'm in awful trouble." "What is it?" again asked Oliver. "Why, the fact is," said Loman, gaining courage, as he found neither Oliver nor Wraysford disposed to resent his visit--"the fact is, Greenfield, I'm in debt. I've been very foolish, you know, betting and all that. I say, Greenfield, _could_ you possibly--would you lend me-- eight pounds? I don't know why I ask you, but unless I can pay the money to-day, I shall--" "What!" exclaimed Oliver, "eight pounds to pay your bets?" "Oh, no, not all bets. I've been swindled too--by Cripps. You know Cripps." And here Loman, utterly miserable, threw himself down on a chair and looked beseechingly at the two friends. "I could pay you back in a month or so," he went on; "or at any rate before Easter. Do lend it me, please, Greenfield. I don't know where else to go and ask, and I shall get into such an awful row if I can't pay. Will you?" Oliver looked at Wraysford; Wraysford looked at Oliver; and then both looked at Loman. The sight of the wretched boy there entreating money of the very fellow who had least reason in all Saint Dominic's to like him, was strange indeed. "Wray," said Oliver, abruptly, after another pause, during which he had evidently made up his mind, "have you any money about you?" "I've three pounds," said Wraysford, taking out his purse. Oliver went to his desk and took from it a five-pound note which was there, his savings for the last year. This, with Wraysford's three sovereigns, he handed without a word to Loman. Then, not waiting to hear the thanks which the wretched boy tried to utter, he took Wraysford's arm and walked out of the study. CHAPTER THIRTY TWO. THE "DOMINICAN" COMES ROUND.