sky, it is a flush of perfect health and momentary happiness as well.
In fact it has been the one afternoon of all the term which Jan may care to recall in later life; and how it will stand out among the weary walks with poor Carpenter and the hours of bitterness under Haigh! But the afternoon is not over yet. Sprawson is first back at the house; his good-natured tongue has been wagging before Jan gets there, and Jan hears a pleasant thing or two as he jogs through the quad to change in the lavatory. But why has he not been playing football all these weeks? It might have made just the difference to the Under-Sixteen team; they might have beaten Haigh's in the second round, instead of just losing as they had done to his mortification before Jan's eyes. What did he mean by pretending to have a heart, and then running like this? It must be jolly well inquired into.
"Then you'd better inquire of old Hill," says Jan, naming the doctor as disrespectfully as he dares to the captain of the house. "It was he said I had one, Loder, not me!"
And Loder looks as if he would like to smack Jan's head again, but is restrained by the presence of Sprawson and Cave major, both of whom have more influence in the house than he. The great Charles Cave has not been in the paper-chase; he will win the Hundred and the Hurdles next term, but he is too slender a young Apollo to shine across country, and is not the man to go in for the few things at which he happens not to excel. He does not address Jan personally, but deigns to mention him in a remark to Sprawson.
"Useful man for us next term, Mother," says Cave, "if he's under fifteen."
"When's your birthday, Tiger?" splutters Sprawson from the shower-bath.
