One day he had been the life and soul of Draven's, next morning he had been summoned to Draven's study, and that same evening we saw him drive off to the station in a cab with his portmanteau on the top.
Very few of the fellows knew why he had been expelled.

I scarcely knew myself, though I was his greatest chum.

On the morning of the day he left, he met me on his way back from Draven's study.
"I'm expelled, Smither," he said, with a dismal face.
"Go on," replied I, taking his arm and scrutinising his face to see where the joke was hidden.

But it was no joke.
"I am," said he hopelessly: "I am to go this evening.

It's my own fault.