“Merely because betting is not allowed and because I have been taught, besides, that it isn’t nice. Still――――” Gerald paused and considered. “Still, we might perhaps come to an agreement that would――er――add a personal interest to the outcome of the game. Let me see, Cotton. I’ll tell you!” Gerald viewed him in mild triumph. “If Broadwood wins I’ll invite you to spend Christmas recess with me in New York and give you a good time, all differences and animosities forgotten. On the other hand, if Broadwood is defeated you will――what the dickens _will_ you do?” Cotton opened his mouth to speak, but Gerald went on. “I have it! If Yardley wins you will stand on the steps of Oxford at five o’clock, give a cheer for Yardley, and proclaim a certain passage from a play of one William Shakespeare which I will indicate when the time comes.”