At that point Gordon's hatred of taking the second place, which had before led him into difficulties, once again asserted itself. "Damn it all," he thought, "I am not going to be beaten by Rudd!" "Do you say we are all funks if we don't go?" "Yes!" "All right then, damn you, I will go with you, just to show you that you are not the only person in this rotten school who's fool enough to risk being bunked." Rudd was taken aback. He had made the challenge out of bravado. He had regretted it instantly. In the same spirit Gordon had accepted the challenge; he also wished he had not the moment afterwards. But both saw that they would have to go through with it now. "Good man," said Rudd, not to be outdone. "I wanted someone to go with me; rather lonely these little excursions without company." He spoke with the air of one who spent every other night giving dinner-parties at the Eversham Tap. "Look here, now," broke in Mansell, "don't make bloody fools of yourselves. You will only get the sack if you are caught, and you probably will get caught; you are sure to do something silly. For God's sake, don't go. It's not worth it. Really, not!" "Oh, shut up; don't panic," was Gordon's scornful answer; "we are going to have a fine time, aren't we, Rudd?" "Splendid," said Rudd, who wanted to laugh; the whole situation was fraught with such a perfectly impossible irony. "Oh, do have some sense, man." Lovelace was impatient with him. "What is the use of rushing about at midnight in slouch hats with a lot of silly, shrieking girls?" "You can't understand, you live in the country. I am a Londoner. You want the true Cockney spirit that goes rolling drunk on Hampstead Heath on Easter Monday." "Well, thank God, I do want it, then," said Lovelace. Rumour flies round a house quickly. In hall several people came up and asked Gordon if it was true. They looked at him curiously with an expression in which surprise and admiration were curiously blended. The old love of notoriety swept over Gordon once more; he felt frightfully bucked with himself. What a devil of a fellow he was, to be sure. He went round the studies in hall, proclaiming his audacity. "I say, look here, old chap, you needn't tell anyone, but I am going out to Pack Monday Fair; it will be some rag!" The sensation he caused was highly gratifying. By prayers all his friends and most of his acquaintances knew of it. Of course they would keep it secret. But Gordon knew well that by break next day it would be round the outhouses, and he looked forward to the number of questions he would get asked. To be the hero of an impending escapade was pleasant. "I say, Davenport," he said in his dormitory that evening, "I am going out to the fair on Monday." Davenport said nothing, and showed no sign of surprise. Gordon was disappointed. "Well, what do you think of it?" he said at last. "That you are a sillier ass than I thought you were," said Davenport.