"Nothing. I solemnly swear--nothing! They're finding out things you've done, and thrashing _me_." "Well," said Dick soothingly, "you'll work them all off during the term, I daresay. There aren't many really bad ones. I suppose he's seen my name cut on his writing-table?" "No; not that I'm aware of," said Paul. "Oh, he'd let you hear of it if he had!" said Dick. "It's good for a swishing, that is. But, after all, what's a swishing? I never cared for a swishing." "But I do care, sir. I care very much, and, I tell you, I won't stand it. I can't! Dick," he said abruptly as a sudden hope seized him. "You, you haven't come down here to say you're tired of your folly, have you? Do you want to give it up?" "Rather not," said Dick. "Why should I? No school, no lessons, nothing to do but amuse myself, eat and drink what I like, and lots of money. It's not likely, you know." "Have you ever thought that you're bringing yourself within reach of the law, sir?" said Paul, trying to frighten him. "Perhaps you don't know that there's an offence known as 'false personation with intent to defraud,' and that it's a felony. That's what you're doing at this moment, sir!" "Not any more than you are!" retorted Dick. "I never began it. I had as much right to wish to be you as you had to wish to be me. You're just what you said you wanted to be, so you can't complain." "It's useless to argue with you, I see," said Paul. "And you've no feelings. But I'll warn you of one thing. Whether that is my body or not you've fraudulently taken possession of, I don't know; if it is not, it is very like mine, and I tell you this about it. The sort of life you're leading it, sir, will very soon make an end of you, if you don't take care. Do you think that a constitution at my age can stand sweet wines and pastry, and late hours? Why, you'll be laid up with gout in another day or two. Don't tell me, sir. I know you're suffering from indigestion at this very minute. I can see your liver (it may be _my_ liver for anything I know) is out of order. I can see it in your eyes." Dick was a little alarmed at this, but he soon said: "Well, and if I am seedy, I can get Barbara to take the stone and wish me all right again, can't I? That's easy enough, I suppose." "Oh, easy enough!" said Paul, with a suppressed groan. "But, Dick, you don't go up to Mincing Lane in that suit and that hat? Don't tell me you do that!" "When I do go up, I wear them," said Dick composedly. "Why not? It's a roomy suit, and I hate a great topper on my head; I've had enough of that here on Sundays. But it's slow up at your office. The chaps there aren't half up to any larks. I made a first-rate booby-trap, though, one day for an old yellow buffer who came in to see you. He _was_ in a bait when he found the waste-paper basket on his head!" "What was his name?" said Paul, with forced calm. "Something like 'Shells.' He said he was a very old friend of mine, and I told him he lied."