"It's about those blessed bills of Tempest's--I wish I'd let them alone. You see, it was this way. How was I to know? I'm sure I never meant to do anything shady." "I dare say not, but what _are_ you talking about?" "Why, I've been regularly let in. You see, I--" "Look here, old chap, let's hear what it is," said the practical Dicky. "Why, the fact is, most of the chaps wanted to stand me something when I squared up with them, and Crofter tries to make out I'm a thief, and he's going to show me up to Tempest." "But you didn't let them?" "Well, yes, one or two. You see, Marple gave me a pencil-sharpener, and Rammage a strawberry ice, and Ringstead a net-bag and spikes--jolly bad ones too, they all came out in a week." "And does Crofter say you swindled him or Tempest?" "I didn't think I was swindling anybody," said I evasively. "You made a pretty good thing out of it, though." "I know. I say, Dicky, what's to be done? I thought I was going to pull round all square this term--really I did--and now I'm in a regular fix." Dicky pondered. "It was a bit shady," said he, with his refreshing candour; "the sort of thing Ananias and--" "Oh, for pity's sake, Dicky, if that's all you've got to say--" "It's not. I think you'd best make it good somehow. Can't you give them back?" "How can I give back the strawberry ice?" This was a poser, certainly, and set Dicky thinking again. "Have you got the other things?" asked he. "No; the pencil-sharpener smashed first time I used it, and the net-bag got lost at home." "Awkward. You'll have to buy new ones." "Who for?" "Tempest, of course. They were his bills." "But it was Crofter's money." "But Tempest has paid him back." The result of this conversation was, that instead of practising for the Quarter-mile that afternoon I went down town with a bag, and expended five shillings of my term's pocket-money in the purchase of a pencil- sharpener, a strawberry ice, a net-bag, and a set of patent screw spikes. Dicky, like a brick, undertook to convey these to Tempest, with the following letter, which I wrote at his suggestion. "Dear Tempest,--I send you back the change I got out of the bills I got last term. I'm sorrier than I can say, and hope you won't hate me more than you do. Dicky will tell you how jolly blue I am, and how we all hope you'll win the Mile. We aren't backing up Crofter, and hope you'll soon be captain again. Please excuse me writing, but I don't like to come and tell you this, as you're so down on me. "Yours truly,-- "T. Jones iv." I also penned a further letter for Crofter:-- "Dear Crofter,--You needn't mind telling Tempest, as I've done so and paid him back. With thanks all the same,-- "Yours truly,-- "T.J. iv." I felt vastly easier in my mind when this polite letter was at an end, and when I saw the faithful Dicky depart to execute his brotherly mission. My one fear was lest the strawberry ice should get warm before it reached its destination.