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136 the decent, manly, don't-care-a-bit sort of boys, but a weedy, red-haired stripling, who was cordially disliked by everyone with whom he came in contact.

I was quite friendly with Colonel Matherson. Indeed I frequently dropped into his bungalow after dinner for a game of picquet a cigar and a whisky-and-soda, and it was on the occasion of one of these evening visits that I learnt the fact that "Octavius the beloved" was sick and that Dr. Elleston had been called in.

The idea came to me in a second. Here was my opportunity to discredit my opponent. It was very evident that if I could turn the Chairman of the Governors into a supporter of myself, instead of the champion of Dr. Elleston, I should have a very strong sporting chance of grabbing the appointment.

I called next day on some pretext and inquired after the young cub Octavius, and was told that he was somewhat better, but that the doctor had put him on very light diet as he considered that he habitually ate too many sweets. I could see a substratum of annoyance in Mrs. Matherson; her dear Octavius could never do anything wrong. "Eat too much—nonsense—nonsense," she declared.