They were always fair fights, for he fought
as a boy and not as a prince. He took his lickings like a prince,
however, and his victories like a boy. The one thing he wanted to do
above all others was to play foot-ball. But they taught him fencing,
riding, shooting and tennis instead, for, said they, foot-ball is
only to be looked-at, not played,--fine argument, said Robin!
Be that as it may, he was physically intact and bodily perfect. He
had no broken nose, smashed ribs, stiff shoulder joints or weak
ankles, nor was he toothless. In all his ambitious young life he had
never achieved anything more enduring than a bloody nose, a cracked
lip or a purple eye, and he had been compelled to struggle pretty
hard for even those blessings. And to him the pity of it all was that
he was as hard as nails and as strong as a bullock--a sad waste, if
one were to believe him in his bitter lamentations.
Toward the end of his first week at Red Roof, the summer home of the
Truxton Kings, he might have been found on the broad lawn late one
afternoon, playing tennis with his hostess, the lovely and vivacious
"Aunt Loraine.
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