and Nat Dennison,—but they won't count till next year. By the way, Rupert,"—he spoke with a sudden embarrassment, as if he hardly knew how to approach the subject,—"I wanted to tell you,—I hope you'll be glad to know,—you've been taken into the Crown."
Rupert stopped and leaned against the fence. They were only a hundred yards from the Upper School. Boys were sitting on the steps of the big brick building or standing about on the grass-plot in front, waiting for the supper-bell.
"I'm sorry," Rupert said. "I'll have to decline it, Harry."
"Why?" There was blank disappointment on Harry's face.
"I don't stand for the Crown." Still leaning against the fence, Rupert reached out, grasped Harry's shoulders, and shoved him back and forth, gently, affectionately.
"Why not?" There was resentful surprise now in Harry's tone.
"Because," said Rupert, releasing him,
