And the reunited half-dozen cronies ran the three miles out and ditto home, Wilson subsequently standing tea, for, as he pathetically explained, "I was overhauling Rogers hand over hand when I slipped my shoe, else he'd have had to fork out." Thus Jack became again for a while the common or garden variety of school-boy, and he enjoyed the change.
Phil Bourne came into my room the same evening that saw Jack Bourne released from the toils of Raffles.
"Busy, old man?"
"Not at all," said I, pushing away my books. "Jolly glad you've come in."
"There's a bit of news for you. I've just been in the gym. I fancy the old school will pull off the 'Heavy' at Aldershot."
"Has Hodgson turned out so jolly well, then?"
"Hodgson! Oh no! Hodgson isn't going to be the school's representative this year, I fancy."
"Why, have you been in form to-night?"
"Look here, old man, you are quite out of it. You sit here reading up all that ancient lore about the cestus, and you could tell me the names of all Nero's gladiators, and yet here at this establishment we've got a gladiator who is going to make history, and you don't know it."