He was still smiling like this when Toby disengaged himself and, seeing him, came across to shake his hand with extraordinary vigour.
“I have come as I promised,” said the little man, “because I have found the very man you want, and he is ready to start as your coach to-morrow if your Headmaster is agreeable. I thought I would come down and see him myself.”
“The Headmaster wants to meet you,” said Toby. “And you couldn’t have come at a better time. Your man has won.”
He turned to look for a moment quizzically upon the seething mob, and suddenly moved forward and beckoned to a tall thin boy who had detached himself from the crowd and seemed to be looking for his cap. This he recovered at last and came towards them.
“Hope,” said Toby, “I want to introduce you to this gentleman. He is Carr’s father and he taught Rouse to box.”
Henry looked at the little man over the tops of his glasses, the excited flush still evident upon his cheek and his breath still laboured. Then he solemnly raised his cap and held out his hand.
“I am very proud to know you, sir,” said he. “Your son has come back to Morley’s now and we are firm friends.” He suddenly turned his head. The scene was growing into one of indescribable commotion. He looked once longingly, then turned to Toby as if in pleading. “If you would just excuse me a minute, sir,” said he, “I really must go and cheer a bit.”
He went off with a sudden raking stride, shouting wild cat calls through cupped hands, and the little man turned to Toby.
“It would be better for you to tell them who I am, Mr Nicholson, than to let them be deceived,” said he. “You see—that boy raised his hat to me.”
Toby nodded his head.