"Not more than others I deserve,
Yet Thou hast given me more,"
he said softly to himself as he returned to the ground.
He had not gone far before he saw Stanley Moncrief coming towards him. He was about Paul's age and height, with a like ruddy complexion, and frank, open face. The two chums were delighted to meet again, especially as so much had happened since their last meeting. Arm in arm they walked about the ground talking eagerly, when their conversation was suddenly interrupted by a shout of laughter from the other end of the ground.
"I say, Paul, that looks very much like my young cousin coming towards us," said Stanley, looking in the direction whence the laughter came. "What on earth has the little ass been doing with himself?"
CHAPTER VI
HARRY MONCRIEF ARRIVES AT GARSIDE
Well might Stanley ask the question. His young cousin had attired himself in the most extraordinary fashion. His trousers—plaid ones—were turned up three or four inches at the bottom, as though for the purpose of displaying to the utmost advantage the white spats on his patent shoes, while surmounting the lower half of him was a gorgeous white waistcoat, cutaway jacket, and tall hat. Paul could not help smiling, for he at once saw the reason of this remarkable attire. Young Moncrief had followed out precisely the instructions sent him by his friend Plunger.
"He seems to have got himself up regardless of expense, Stan," smiled Paul. "He means making an impression on the school. But you needn't scowl so, old fellow. It's all done for your sake. He thinks it the correct form, and doesn't want to let you down."
"Correct form—don't want to let me down!" repeated Stanley, bewildered. "What on earth are you driving at?"