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“Nay, nay, prominent as one swell hockey player, Toby, and also, if I mistake not, as a rescuer of drowning youths. Don’t forget you’re a hero, old thing. By the way, I wonder if young Lingard’s back. For your sake, I hope he isn’t. His gratitude to you for saving him from a watery death was a bit embarrassing to you, I thought!”

Toby smiled ruefully. “You didn’t think, you knew,” he said grimly. Arnold laughed.

“To see you slinking around a corner to evade the kid was killing, Toby! And he is such a little rotter, too! While you were rescuing, why didn’t you pull out something a little more select?”

“Oh, Tommy isn’t a bad sort really,” responded Toby earnestly. “He—he just didn’t get the right sort of bringing-up, I suppose.”

“Maybe. Personally, I always feel like taking him over my knee and wearing out a shingle on him! Well, this won’t get our things unpacked. Let’s knock off after a bit and see who’s back. Funny none of the gang has been in. Wonder if Fan’s back. And Ted Halliday.”