shall have to go in for the heavies. What are you?'

'Just eleven. Well, let's hope we meet in the final.'

'Rather,' said Tony.

It was at Aldershot--to be more exact, in the dressing-room of the
Queen's Avenue Gymnasium at Aldershot--that the conversation took
place. From east and west, and north and south, from Dan even unto
Beersheba, the representatives of the public schools had assembled to
box, fence, and perform gymnastic prodigies for fame and silver medals.
The room was full of all sorts and sizes of them, heavy-weights looking
ponderous and muscular, feather-weights diminutive but wiry,
light-weights, middle-weights, fencers, and gymnasts in scores, some
wearing the unmistakable air of the veteran, for whom Aldershot has no
mysteries, others nervous, and wishing themselves back again at school.

Tony Graham had chosen a corner near the door. This was his first
appearance at Aldershot. St Austin's was his School, and he was by far
the best middle-weight there. But his doubts as to his ability to hold
his own against all-comers were extreme, nor were they lessened by the
knowledge that his cousin, Allen Thomson, was to be one of his
opponents. Indeed, if he had not been a man of mettle, he might well
have thought that with Allen's advent his chances were at an end.

Allen was at Rugby. He was the son of a baronet who owned many acres in
Wiltshire, and held fixed opinions on the subject of the whole duty of
man, who, he held, should be before anything else a sportsman. Both the
Thomsons--Allen's brother Jim was at St Austin's in the same House as
Tony--were good at most forms of sport. Jim, however, had never taken