“He’s going to jaw you, you bet,” said the baronet.
“Looks like it. I wonder why he always picks on you and me for jawing? Why can’t he give the other fellows a turn? Never mind, he was civil to us that night at the abbey—I suppose I’d better let him have his own way.”
So, after a fitting interval, he repaired with his books to the lion’s den.
These astute boys had been not quite beside the mark in their surmise that the master had ulterior reasons in inviting Arthur to his study. He did want to “jaw” him; but not in the manner they had anticipated.
After going through the Cicero, and marking the portions requiring special getting up for the examination, Railsford put down his pen and sat back in his chair.
“Arthur,” said he, “there is something I should like to ask you.”
“It’s coming, I knew it,” said Arthur to himself.
“Do you remember, Arthur, last term, you and I had some talk one evening about what happened to Mr Bickers, and the mysterious way in which that secret had been kept?”
Arthur fidgeted uncomfortably.
“Oh, yes,” said he. “That’s all done with now, though, isn’t it?”