Disregarding poor Mr. Pucker's entreaties to matriculate him this once for the sake of his mother, when he would read very hard--indeed he would--Mr. Fosbrooke turned to Mr. Bouncer and gave him some private instructions, and Mr. Verdant Green immediately disappeared in search of his scout, Filcher. Five minutes afterwards, as the dejected Mr. Pucker was crawling out of the quad, Filcher came and led him back to the rooms of Mr. Slowcoach, the real examining tutor.
"But I have been examined," Mr. Pucker kept on saying dejectedly. "I have been examined, and they rejected me."
"I think it was an 'oax, sir," said Filcher.
"A what!" stammered Mr. Pucker.
"A 'oax--a sell," said the scout. "Those two gents has been 'aving a little game with you, sir. They often does it with fresh parties like you, sir, that seem fresh and hinnocent like."
Mr. Pucker was immensely relieved at this news, and at once went to Mr. Slowcoach, who, after an examination of twenty minutes, passed him. But Filcher was alarmed at the joyful way in which he rushed out of the tutor's room.
"You didn't tell 'im about the 'oax, sir, did yer?" asked the scout anxiously.
"Not a word," said the radiant Mr. Pucker.
"Then you're a trump, sir!" said Filcher. "And Mr. Verdant Green's compliments to yer, sir, and will you come up to his rooms and take a glass of wine with him, sir?"
It need hardly be said that the blushing Mr. Pucker passed a very pleasant evening with his new friends, and that Mr. Verdant Green was very proud of having got so far out of the freshman's stage of existence as to take part in one of the most successful hoaxes in the history of Oxford.