entered the water again.

It was Spencer's ambition to swim ten lengths of the bath. He was not
a young Channel swimmer, and ten lengths represented a very respectable
distance to him. He proceeded now to attempt to lower his record. It
was not often that he got the bath so much to himself. Usually, there
was barely standing-room in the water, and long-distance swimming was
impossible. But now, with a clear field, he should, he thought, be able
to complete the desired distance.

He was beginning the fifth length before interruption came. Just as he
reached halfway, a reproachful voice at his side said: "Oh, Percy,
you'll tire yourself!" and a hand on the top of his head propelled him
firmly towards the bottom.

Every schoolboy, as Honble. Macaulay would have put it, knows the
sensation of being ducked. It is always unpleasant--sometimes more,
sometimes less. The present case belonged to the former class. There
was just room inside Spencer for another half-pint of water. He
swallowed it. When he came to the surface, he swam to the side without
a word and climbed out. It was the last straw. Honour could now be
satisfied only with gore.

He hung about outside the baths till Phipps and Thomas appeared, then,
with a steadfast expression on his face, he walked up to the latter
and kicked him.

Thomas seemed surprised, but not alarmed. His eyes grew a little
rounder, and the pink on his cheeks deepened. He looked like a
choir-boy in a bad temper.