Beneath his calm exterior Dick was conscious of a heart that beat quickly and uncomfortably. Here, if he could bring himself to adopt it, was a way out of all his difficulties! But he gave no second thought to the temptation.
"It is neither a sporting offer nor a workable one, Mr. Mawdster," he answered, without hesitation. "I am sorry you are unhappy about your son, but I can do nothing for him."
"What! You, the Captain of Foxenby, can't save my poor lad from being beaten black and blue?"
"I have told you I cannot. It would be an unpardonable breach of school etiquette."
"Etiquette be blowed!" cried the manager. "You've got to stick up for my boy, or else——"
"Drop that, Mr. Mawdster. I won't be threatened. If you are dissatisfied with your son's treatment, why don't you write to his housemaster, or direct to the Head himself?"
"And have the poor, dear lad hounded out of the place as a tell-tale! Not much, young fellow—he's suffered enough already without that. See here, Mr. Stiff-neck Forge, you and I have got to have a straight talk about this editorial stunt of yours."
"Certainly. That's why I came here so soon."
"I've published three numbers of the magazine on art paper, and they've cost a lot of money. If I pass you the bill now, can you pay it?"
"I'm sorry to say I cannot."