For me at least that was the happiest day of my life, except perhaps that a week later when my mother as a special privilege allowed me to see him for a moment. He was sitting up in bed, smiling but pale. "Tell me," he said, "I've never heard yet, did I win the Mile?" "Dead heat," said I. "What time?" "Four four and a half." "A record, isn't it? It was worth the grind." I had my doubts, but knew better than to say so. CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. A GOOD SHOW-UP ALL ROUND. It was the last day but one of the Summer term, and the Philosophers were in a ferment. The lists were to be out in the afternoon, and a score of events were to be decided by them. Was I to get on to the top form of my division, and if so, was it Langrish or Purkis who was to be displaced? Or was I, after all my grind, to yield a place to the truculent Coxhead? More than that, was Warminster to be beaten after all by a day boy called Dicky Brown, who, amid all the changes and distractions of the term, had stuck doggedly to his work, and was reported a hot man for the head place in the junior division? All this was exciting enough, but it was as nothing to the tussle at the head of the school. Pridgin's alarming burst of work in the Easter term had, contrary to all expectation, not died out. Every one prophesied he would sicken of it. Wales laughed at him. Crofter smiled sweetly. Tempest inquired frequently after his health, and even Redwood knocked off some of his extra cricket to keep pace with it. "What are you trying to do?" asked Tempest one day, as his friend looked in. "Nothing, my dear fellow, only amusing myself, I assure you." "You have a queer idea of fun. Do you know, I've hardly been out on the river all the term, owing to you." "Don't let me prevent you, old chap. The exercise will do you good." Tempest laughed. "I hope yours will do you good. But two can play at your game." "Two! Half a dozen.--I've not got my knife into _you_, though." "Who? Crofter?" "Rather. I see no other way of taking it out of him. He shirks sports, and takes his pound of flesh out of the captaincy, although he knows he's no right to it, and no one, not even the rowdies in the faggery, respects him." "That's why we're going steady," said I, "just to rile him." "The only way to take it out of him is to make him sit up, and harry him," said the amiable Pridgin. "I only hope, though, it won't land me head of the house. I'm depending on you to beat me. But I'm not going to play second fiddle to Crofter." "It will serve you right if it does land you head," responded Tempest. "If it does, we'll have to keep you up to the mark and see you don't shirk." "Don't say that, old chap, or I shall jack it up," said Pridgin, putting his feet upon the window-ledge. "Besides, does it occur to you that Redwood's leaving, and that the second man up, if he's one of us, is left not only captain of Sharpe's but captain of Low Heath?"