With the best intentions in the world, however, a headmaster cannotmake a row about a thing unless he is given a reasonable amount oftime to make it in. The concert being on the last evening of term,there was only a single morning before the summer holidays, and thatmorning was occupied with the prize-giving. The school assembled atten o'clock with a shadowy hope that this prize-day would be moreexciting than the general run of prize-days, but they weredisappointed. The function passed off without sensation. Theheadmaster did not denounce the school in an impassioned speech fromthe dais. He did not refer to the events of the previous evening. Atthe same time, his demeanour was far from jovial. It lacked thatrollicking bonhomie which we like to see in headmasters on prize-day.

　　It was evident to the most casual observer that the affair was notclosed. The school would have to pay the bill sooner or later. Buteight weeks would elapse before the day of reckoning, which was acomforting thought.

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

　　"I wonder why it always takes about three hours to get us off to thestation," said Jimmy Silver. "I've been to camp two years now, andthere'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. Ifany gent cares to put in a modest ginger-beer at the shop, I'm withhim.""I don't see why we shouldn't," said Kennedy. He had seen Fenn go intothe shop, and wished to talk to him. He had not seen him after theconcert, and he thought it would be interesting to know how Kay hadtaken it, and what his comments had been on meeting Fenn in the housethat night.

　　Fenn had not much to say.

　　"He was rather worried," he said, grinning as if the recollection ofthe interview amused him. "But he couldn't do anything. Of course,there'll be a row next term, but it can't be helped.""If I were you," said Silver, "I should point out to them that you'd aperfect right to play what you liked for an encore. How were you toknow the gallery would go off like that? You aren't responsible forthem. Hullo, there's that bugle. Things seem to be on the move. Wemust go.""So long," said Fenn.

　　"Goodbye. Mind you come off against Middlesex."Kennedy stayed for a moment.

　　"Has the Old Man said anything to you yet?" he asked.