nearly there! You've made wonderful time considering the night."
"Have you any, Finch?"
"Me!" exclaimed the boy, rubbing one of his bony knees, which had got cramped from sitting so long in one position. "I never have any! I can't afford them. It takes all my allowance, I can tell you, to pay my railway fare, and buy my lunch, and pay fees for this and that. I've nothing left for cigarettes."
"So much the better for you, at your age," returned his brother, curtly.
"Chocolate bars are much better for you," purred Pheasant, close to his ear.
Renny peered through the window. "There's the station," he said. "I suppose your wheel is there. Shall you get it? Or had you sooner stop in the car with us?"
"It's a beast of a night. I think I'll go with you. No—I'll—yes—oh, Lord, I don't know what to do!" He peered forlornly into the night.
Renny brought up the car with a jolt. He demanded over his shoulder: "What the devil is the matter with you? You seem to have a perpetual grouch. Now make up your mind, if it's possible. I think myself you had better leave the wheel where it is and walk to the station in the morning."
"It'll be a beastly walk in such weather as this," mumbled Finch, moving his leg with his hands to bring life into it. "My books'll be all muddy."
"Well, get one of the men to run you down in the car."
"Piers will want the car early. I heard him say so."
Renny stretched back a long arm and threw open the door beside the youth. "Now," he said quietly, but with an ominous chest vibration in his voice, "get out. I've had enough of this shilly-shallying!"
Finch scrambled out, giving a ridiculous hop as his numb foot touched the ground. He stood with dropped jaw as the door was slammed and the motor rattled away, sending a spray of muddy water against his trouser legs.
He moved heavily under a weight of self-pity as he went toward the station house. In the room behind the
