"May I call you John once?"
"You are the silliest idiot I ever met, bar none. Call me 'John,' or 'Tom Fool,' or anything; but hook it afterwards!"
"Yes, John, I will. You're the only boy I ever met whom I really wanted for a friend." He displayed a radiant face, turned suddenly, and ran off. John watched him, frowning, because Fluff was a good little chap, and yet, at times, such a bore!
He walked on alone, chewing the cud of a delightful experience; trying, not unsuccessfully, to recall some of Mr. Desmond's anecdotes. How proud Cæsar was of his father! And the father, obviously, was just as proud of his son. What a pair! And if only Cæsar were his friend! By Jove! It was rather a rum go, but John was as mad keen to call Cæsar friend as poor Fluff to call John friend. Serious food for thought, this. "But I would never bother him," said John to himself, "as Fluff has bothered me, never!"
"Hullo, Verney!"
"Hullo!" said John.
Coincidence had thrust Cæsar out of his thought and on to the narrow path in front of him.
"I'm not a ghost," said Cæsar.
John hesitated.
"I was thinking of you," he confessed; "and then I heard your voice and saw you. It gave me a start. I say, it was good of your governor to ask me."