Scaife laughed again. "Yes, I really was, my Moses in the bulrushes! Don't look so miserable. I guessed all along that you weren't quite in the know. Well, I'm every bit as grateful. You stood up to Dick like a hero. And my tea is in your honour."
"Oh, Scaife—you—you won't do it again?"
"Get screwed?" said Scaife, gravely. "I shall not. It isn't good enough. We've chucked the stuff away."
"If they'd found it——"
"Ah—if! The old Caterpillar attended to that. He's a downy bird, I can tell you. When Dick came into our room, he slipped back to Lovell's room, carried off the whisky, hid it, washed the glasses, and then dirtied them with siphon and syrup. The Caterpillar and you showed great head. We shall drink your healths to-morrow—in tea and chocolate."
John wondered what Scaife had said to the Fifth. At any rate, they asked John no questions, and treated him with distinguished courtesy and favour; but that evening, when John was fagging in Lawrence's room, the great man said abruptly—
"I saw you walking with Lovell senior this afternoon."
John explained. Lawrence frowned.
"Oh, you've been celebrating, have you? Thanksgiving service at the Creameries. Now, look here, Verney, I've met your uncle, and he asked me to keep an eye on you. Because of that I made you my fag—you, a green hand, when I had the pick of the House."
"It was awfully good of you," said John, warmly.