Carr said nothing at all. He just looked at him straightly.
“Do you know,” asked Coles, “why you’ve been made my fag?”
“No,” said Bobbie.
“It’s because I asked for you. And do you know why I asked for you?”
“No.”
“It’s because I’m said to be rather a difficult man to fag for. Young fellows like you get a bit tired of me. I want a good deal done and I expect my fag to be absolutely trustworthy. If I tell you a thing in confidence and I find you split, I simply hit you on the top of the head with a book, and your head sings for twenty-four hours. I’ve an idea, though, that I shan’t need to hit you much. That’s why I managed to get you allotted to me. I think you’ll quite like to fag for me—you’ll know that if ever you get to know a secret of mine I’ve got a secret of yours, and that’ll keep you quiet, won’t it?”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, you’re ashamed of your father, aren’t you?”
“Ashamed of him?” said Bobbie hotly. “No, I’m not.”
“But you say that you don’t want anyone here to know how he makes his living.”