The conversation that evening had dealt so largely with Fenn--the whole school, indeed, was talking of nothing but his great attempt to win the cricket cup single-handed--that Kennedy, going out into the road for a breather before the rest of the boarders returned from preparation, made his way to Kay's to see if Fenn was imitating his example, and taking the air too. He found him at Kay's gate, and they strolled towards the school buildings together. Fenn was unusually silent. "Well?" said Kennedy, after a minute had passed without a remark. "Well, what?" "What's up?" Fenn laughed what novelists are fond of calling a mirthless laugh. "Oh, I don't know," he said; "I'm sick of this place." Kennedy inspected his friend's face anxiously by the light of the lamp over the school gate. There was no mistake about it. Fenn certainly did look bad. His face always looked lean and craggy, but tonight there was a difference. He looked used up. "Fagged?" asked Kennedy. "No. Sick." "What about?" "Everything. I wish you could come into Kay's for a bit just to see what it's like. Then you'd understand. At present I don't suppose you've an idea of it. I'd like to write a book on 'Kay Day by Day'. I'd have plenty to put in it." "What's he been doing?" "Oh, nothing out of the ordinary run. It's the fact that he's always at it that does me. You get a houseful of--well, you know the sort of chap the average Kayite is. They'd keep me busy even if I were allowed a free hand. But I'm not. Whenever I try and keep order and stop things a bit, out springs the man Kay from nowhere, and takes the job out of my hands, makes a ghastly mess of everything, and retires purring. Once in every three times, or thereabouts, he slangs me in front of the kids for not keeping order. I'm glad this is the end of the term. I couldn't stand it much longer. Hullo, here come the chaps from prep. We'd better be getting back." II AN EVENING AT KAY'S They turned, and began to walk towards the houses. Kennedy felt miserable. He never allowed himself to be put out, to any great extent, by his own worries, which, indeed, had not been very numerous up to the present, but the misfortunes of his friends always troubled him exceedingly. When anything happened to him personally, he found the discomfort of being in a tight place largely counterbalanced by the excitement of trying to find a way out. But the impossibility of helping Fenn in any way depressed him. "It must be awful," he said, breaking the silence. "It is," said Fenn, briefly. "But haven't the house-matches made any difference? Blackburn's always frightfully bucked when the house does anything. You can do anything you like with him if you lift a cup. I should have thought Kay would have been all right when he saw you knocking up centuries, and getting into the final, and all that sort of thing." Fenn laughed.