The dark-complexioned youth rolled lazily on to his back and stared at the ceiling.

Then-- "I suppose Crozier will get the captaincy, Neil." The boy with light hair nodded without removing his gaze from the little flames that danced in the fireplace.

They had discussed the day's happenings thoroughly, had relived the game with St.Eustace from start to finish, and now the big Thanksgiving dinner which they had eaten was beginning to work upon them a spell of dormancy.

It was awfully jolly, thought Neil Fletcher, to just lie there and watch the flames and--and--He sighed comfortably and closed his eyes.

At eight o'clock he, with the rest of the victorious team, was to be drawn about the town in a barge and cheered at, but meanwhile there was time to just close his eyes--and forget--everything-- There was a knock at the study door.
"Go 'way!" grunted Neil.
"Oh, come in," called Paul Gale, without, however, removing his drowsy gaze from the ceiling or changing his position.
"I beg your pardon.