CHAPTER III

THE REGENERATION OF BIFFEN'S HOUSE


To say that Acton was upset by our visit and our conversation and Bourne's
ultimatum would be beside the mark; he was furious, and when he had cooled
down somewhat, his anger settled into a long, steady stretch of hate
towards us both, but especially towards Bourne. He simmered over many
plans for getting "even" with him, and when he had finally mapped out a
course he proceeded, as some one says, "diligently to ensue it;" for Acton
was not of that kind to be "awkward" as occasion arose, but there was
method in all his schemes.

It so happened that Worcester was captain of Biffen's house, and also of
Biffen's "footer" team. My own opinion was that poor old Worcester would
have given a lot to be out of such a house as Biffen's, and I know he
utterly despised himself for having in a moment of inexplicable weakness
consented to be permanent lead to Biffen's awful crowd on the Acres. He
died a thousand deaths after each (usual) annihilation. Worcester and
Acton had nothing in common, and, except that they were in the same house
and form, they would not probably have come to nodding terms. Worcester,
of course, looked up to the magnificent "footer" player as the average
player looks up to the superlative. After the first game of the season,
when Acton had turned out in all his glory, Dick had thereupon offered to
resign his captaincy, even pressing, with perhaps suspicious eagerness,
Acton's acceptance of that barren honour. But Acton did not bite. Captains