“You’re called Steggles, aren’t you?” said Nubby, who was an awfully civil chap in his manners. “I am.” “Well, I hope you’ll like Merivale.” “Do you?” “All right in summer-time when there’s hay. Hate it when I’m ill, which I am now.” “What can you do?” asked Mathers in his abrupt way. “I can draw,” said Steggles. “What?” “Devils.” “Do one,” said Mathers. He got a piece of _Cambridge demi_ and a pen and ink. Then Steggles, evidently anxious to please, sat down, and did as good a devil as ever I saw. Nubby and I were greatly pleased. “What else can you do?” said Mathers, as if such a power to draw devils wasn’t as much as you could expect from one chap. “I can smoke.” “Cigarettes? So can anybody.” “No; a pipe.” “Oh! where did you learn that?” “At Harrow.” Then Steggles started like a guilty thing and put his hand over his mouth--too late. A rumor we had heard was proved true. “It would have been sure to get out, and I don’t care who knows it, for that matter,” said Steggles, defiantly. “I had to leave there because I didn’t know enough, and couldn’t get up higher in the school. I’m rather backward through not being properly taught. The teaching at Harrow’s simply cruel. Not but what I’ve taught myself a thing or two, mind you. I’m fifteen.” He looked at us out of his red-rimmed eyes, and put me in mind of a ferret I’ve got at home. He might have been any age up to twenty, I thought. “Can you play anything?” asked Mathers. “The piano.” Mathers shivered and Nubby grew excited. “So can I. We’ll do duets,” he said. “If you like,” said Steggles. Then the tea-bell rang. II Whole books might be written about Steggles at Merivale. I heard Thompson say, after he had been there a week, that it wasn’t what he didn’t know had rendered it necessary for Steggles to leave Harrow, but what he did know. Certainly he had a great deal of general information about rum things. He got newspapers by post concerning sporting matters; he knew an immense deal about dogs and horses; and Nubbs, who was a judge, said his piano-playing surpassed his devil-drawing for sheer brilliance. Yet, with all these accomplishments, he only managed to get into the Fourth. As to his smoking, it was certainly wonderful. And he ate things afterwards to hide the smell. He had a genius for wriggling out of rows and for getting them up between other fellows. He loved to look on at fighting and knew all the proper rules. On the whole he was rather a beast, and, if it hadn’t been for Nubby, Mathers and I should have barred him. But all I’m going to tell about now is the hideous discovery of Steggles and M., and the thing that happened on the day of the match with Buckland Grammar School. M. had been very queer for a fortnight--queer, I mean, with all three of us--which was unusual. Then, seeing how the cat had taken to jumping, I tackled her one morning going through the hall to the Doctor’s study.