much to their surprise, organised going concerns. Like the immortal
Captain Pott, Trevor was "a terror to the shirker and the lubber". And
the resemblance was further increased by the fact that he was "a
toughish lot", who was "little, but steel and india-rubber". At first
sight his appearance was not imposing. Paterfamilias, who had heard his
son's eulogies on Trevor's performances during the holidays, and came
down to watch the school play a match, was generally rather
disappointed on seeing five feet six where he had looked for at least
six foot one, and ten stone where he had expected thirteen. But then,
what there was of Trevor was, as previously remarked, steel and
india-rubber, and he certainly played football like a miniature
Stoddart. It was characteristic of him that, though this was the
first match of the term, his condition seemed to be as good as
possible. He had done all his own work on the field and most of
Rand-Brown's, and apparently had not turned a hair. He was one of
those conscientious people who train in the holidays.

When he had changed, he went down the passage to Clowes' study. Clowes was
in the position he frequently took up when the weather was good--wedged
into his window in a sitting position, one leg in the study, the other
hanging outside over space. The indoor leg lacked a boot, so that it was
evident that its owner had at least had the energy to begin to change.
That he had given the thing up after that, exhausted with the effort, was
what one naturally expected from Clowes. He would have made a splendid
actor: he was so good at resting.

"Hurry up and dress," said Trevor; "I want you to come over to the
baths."

"What on earth do you want over at the baths?"