eight weeks would elapse before the day of reckoning, which was a
comforting thought.

The last prize was handed over to its rightful owner. The last and
dullest vote of thanks had been proposed by the last and dullest
member of the board of governors. The Bishop of Rumtifoo (who had been
selected this year to distribute the prizes) had worked off his
seventy minutes' speech (inaudible, of course, as usual), and was
feeling much easier. The term had been formally declared at an end,
and those members of the school corps who were going to camp were
beginning to assemble in front of the buildings.

"I wonder why it always takes about three hours to get us off to the
station," said Jimmy Silver. "I've been to camp two years now, and
there's always been this rotting about in the grounds before we start.
Nobody's likely to turn up to inspect us for the next hour or so. If
any gent cares to put in a modest ginger-beer at the shop, I'm with
him."

"I don't see why we shouldn't," said Kennedy. He had seen Fenn go into
the shop, and wished to talk to him. He had not seen him after the
concert, and he thought it would be interesting to know how Kay had
taken it, and what his comments had been on meeting Fenn in the house
that night.

Fenn had not much to say.

"He was rather worried," he said, grinning as if the recollection of
the interview amused him. "But he couldn't do anything. Of course,
there'll be a row next term, but it can't be helped."