About a quarter after nine Scott's bedroom door opened unceremoniously, and Gobion came in. Scott jumped up. "I'm beastly sorry, old man, to be so slack. I'll be up in a minute. Is brekker in?" "Never mind, old man; I'll go back into the next room and wait." When breakfast was brought they sat for a time in silence. Then Gobion spoke. "Old man, the game's up." "What!" "I'm done--utterly." "What do you mean?" "Well, you know how unlucky I have been in exams, and what a small allowance I have always had?" "Yes." "Well, the guvnor has written saying that I am idle and hopeless, and has taken my name off the books and refused to have anything more to do with me." Scott gasped. "Oh, Lord, I _am_ so sorry--dear old man--never mind, remember we promised to stick to each other. Now let's talk it over. What do you propose to do?" "I shall go up to town this afternoon if I can get some money. I have had some work offered me on _The Pilgrim_, and I am sure to get along somehow." "Of course you will, old man, you always succeed--look here, have you got any 'oof?" "Not a penny." "Well, I've got about twenty pounds I don't want. You had better take them." "Thanks awfully, old chap, but I don't think I will, I owe you too much as it is. I don't know when I shall be able to repay you." "Oh, but do, old man, you _must_ have some cash." "Well, if----" "Ah, I knew you wouldn't mind; let me write you a cheque, you can cash it at the Old Bank this morning." And he got out his cheque-book and wrote it. Gobion took it without saying anything, but he stretched out his hand and looked him in the face. With wonderful intuition he knew exactly what the other expected, and Scott felt repaid by his warm grasp and silence, which, as Gobion expected, he mistook for emotion. After a melancholy cigarette Gobion got up and said, "You'll come and see me off, of course? I've got a lot to do, but I will have tea here at four and you can come to the station after. My train leaves at 5.30. Do you mind telling Robertson and Fleming, and anyone else you come across, and getting them to come too?" The sun was shining when Gobion got out, and he thought that his first success was a good omen for the future. He strolled up to the bank feeling well fed and happy, and the strangeness of his position induced a pleasing sense of excitement and anticipation. He liked to think that he would be in the Strand that same evening. When he had got his money he went to Condamine's rooms in Grove Street, where, as he expected, he found Sturtevant. He wore the yellow silk tie this morning. They were having breakfast, and Condamine, unwashed and unshaven, dressed in pyjamas, with his feet thrust into a venerable pair of dancing pumps with the bows gone, was indignantly holding forth on the unapproachable manner of some barmaid or other whom he had discovered. Gobion took the proffered drink. "First this mornin'," he said, and then, "I'm going down to-day."