utterly obliterated by sun and rain, but were dimly discernible, where
the mower had passed, as yellower streaks against the vivid green. It
was a splendid field; Clint had to acknowledge that; and for a time the
thought of playing football on it had almost dispersed his gloom. But
the after-reflection that for all he knew his services might not be
required on the Eleven, that very possibly his brand of football was not
good enough for Brimfield, had caused a relapse into depression. Thrice
he had told himself that as soon as the plodding horse reached the
further turn he would get up and go back to his room, and thrice he had
failed to keep his promise. He wondered who his room-mate was to be and
whether that youth had yet arrived, but his curiosity was not strong
enough to get him up. Now, however, the mower was again traversing the
opposite end of the field, and again approaching the further corner, and
once more he made the agreement with himself, really meaning to live up
to it. But, as events proved, he was not destined to keep faith.

From around the corner of the stand furthest from the Row appeared a boy
in a suit of light grey flannels. The coat, hanging open, displayed a
soft shirt of no uncertain shade of heliotrope. A bow-tie of
lemon-yellow with purple dots nestled under his chin and between the
cuffs of his trousers and the rubber-soled tan shoes a four-inch expanse
of heliotrope silk stockings showed. A straw hat with a particularly
narrow brim was adorned with a ribbon of alternating bars of maroon and
grey. He was indeed a cheerful and colourful youth, his cheerfulness
being further evidenced by the jaunty swinging of a stick which he had
apparently cut from a willow and by the gay whistling of a tune. On
sight of Clint, however, the stick stopped swinging and the whistling
came to an end in the middle of a note.

"Hi!" said the youth in surprised tones.