"Kay!" he said. "My dear man, he doesn't _know_. I don't suppose he's got the remotest idea that we are in the final at all, or, if he has, he doesn't understand what being in the final means." "But surely he'll be glad if you lick us tomorrow?" asked Kennedy. Such indifference on the part of a house-master respecting the fortunes of his house seemed to him, having before him the bright example of Mr Blackburn, almost incredible. "I don't suppose so," said Fenn. "Or, if he is, I'll bet he doesn't show it. He's not like Blackburn. I wish he was. Here he comes, so perhaps we'd better talk about something else." The vanguard of the boys returning from preparation had passed them, and they were now standing at the gate of the house. As Fenn spoke, a little, restless-looking man in cap and gown came up. His clean-shaven face wore an expression of extreme alertness--the sort of look a ferret wears as he slips in at the mouth of a rabbit-hole. A doctor, called upon to sum up Mr Kay at a glance, would probably have said that he suffered from nerves, which would have been a perfectly correct diagnosis, though none of the members of his house put his manners and customs down to that cause. They considered that the methods he pursued in the management of the house were the outcome of a naturally malignant disposition. This was, however, not the case. There is no reason to suppose that Mr Kay did not mean well. But there is no doubt that he was extremely fussy. And fussiness--with the possible exceptions of homicidal mania and a taste for arson--is quite the worst characteristic it is possible for a house-master to possess. He caught sight of Fenn and Kennedy at the gate, and stopped in his stride. "What are you doing here, Fenn?" he asked, with an abruptness which brought a flush to the latter's face. "Why are you outside the house?" Kennedy began to understand why it was that his friend felt so strongly on the subject of his house-master. If this was the sort of thing that happened every day, no wonder that there was dissension in the house of Kay. He tried to imagine Blackburn speaking in that way to Jimmy Silver or himself, but his imagination was unequal to the task. Between Mr Blackburn and his prefects there existed a perfect understanding. He relied on them to see that order was kept, and they acted accordingly. Fenn, by the exercise of considerable self-control, had always been scrupulously polite to Mr Kay. "I came out to get some fresh air before lock-up, sir," he replied. "Well, go in. Go in at once. I cannot allow you to be outside the house at this hour. Go indoors directly." Kennedy expected a scene, but Fenn took it quite quietly. "Good night, Kennedy," he said. "So long," said Kennedy. Fenn caught his eye, and smiled painfully. Then he turned and went into the house. Mr Kay's zeal for reform was apparently still unsatisfied. He directed his batteries towards Kennedy.