Johnny made a deprecating gesture.
“You understand,” said he, “one does not meet professional pugilists in the homes of gentlemen, except as curiosities.”
Toby looked at him inscrutably.
“My son has run away. Unless I can get him back there will, of course, be an inquiry, and I shall need to come forward. The papers will sooner or later get wind of it and the facts will come out. When once it is known that a bruiser sent his son to a Public School and that he ran away, I shall never be able to get him into another school in England, except as a notoriety. Is there any means at all by which you could help me to get him back?”
“I’m not going back,” interrupted Bobbie, with sudden emphasis.
They turned to look at him.
“Why not?” said Toby, in astonishment.
The boy was silent, but Johnny spoke up.
“You must tell him, Bobbie,” said he. “If we want help from Mr Nicholson we must tell him everything. There’s a young fellow at the school, Mr Nicholson, who happens to know the secret that we’ve tried to keep, and by threatening to tell it he has made Bobbie do things that he shouldn’t have. No doubt this fellow will guess that the boy came up to see me fight, and even if we should get him safely back to-night perhaps he will say now that unless Bobbie does this or that for him he will report his absence to the Headmaster.”
Toby was looking from one to the other thoughtfully.