Lovell senior remarked that Beaumont-Greene was a "swine," but that Verney had put on "lift" and must be snubbed. What? A boy who had not been two years in the school dared to take the law into his own hands! The matter ought to have been laid before the Head of the House.
Accordingly, John found himself, much to his dismay, unpopular with the Olympians. The last month of this term was, in some ways, the most disagreeable he had yet spent at Harrow.
But the gain of Desmond's friendship far outweighed the loss of popularity. John tingled with pleasure when he reflected that he had achieved his ambition to stand between Scaife and Desmond. At the same time, he was uncomfortably aware that Scaife seemed to have climbed high above Desmond, who had stood still. In moments of depression John told himself that he was a makeshift, that Desmond would leave him and join the Demon whenever that splendid young person chose to whistle him up. Scaife had failed to get his Football Flannels, but he came so near to beating all previous records that the School began to regard him as a "Blood." He was seen arm-in-arm with Lovell, strolling up and down the High Street, and the fags breathlessly repeated what Desmond had predicted a year ago: the Demon was the coming man. And always, when John and Desmond passed him, John thought he could read a derisive triumph upon the Demon's handsome face, an expression which said plainly: "You young fool, don't you know that I'm playing cat and mouse with you?"
The three still met twice daily to prepare work. But the moment that was done, Scaife disappeared, leaving John and Desmond together.
"He's playing bridge in Lovell's room," said Desmond.
More facts were gleaned from the Caterpillar, who had joined the bridge-players, but played seldom.
"One draws the line," said he, "at playing for stakes one can't afford to lose. Lovell and the Demon have made it too hot."
"And Warde will make it hotter," said John.
"Not he," replied the Caterpillar. "The Demon is a wonder. Thanks to his brains, detection is impossible. He suggested that Lovell's room should be used. Warde wouldn't dare to burst in upon one of the Sixth. And you ought to see their dodgy arrangements. Lovell has his young brother on guard. I'm hanged if the Demon didn't invent a sort of drill, which they go through with a stop-watch. It's a star performance, I tell you. Young Lovell bolts in. In thirty-five seconds—they have got it down to that—the cards and markers are hidden; and the four of 'em are jawing away about footer."
"All the same," said John, obstinately, "Warde will be too much for 'em."