"You're what?"
"I simply sha'n't go to school."
"You're rotting."
"All right."
"No, but, I say, ragging barred. Are you just going to cut off, though the holiday's been stopped?"
"That's the idea."
"You'll get sacked."
"I suppose so. But only because I shall be the only one to do it. If the whole school took Friday off, they couldn't do much. They couldn't sack the whole school."
"By Jove, nor could they! I say!"
They walked on, Neville-Smith's mind in a whirl, Wyatt whistling.
"I say," said Neville-Smith after a pause. "It would be a bit of a rag."
"Not bad.'
"Do you think the chaps would do it?"
"If they understood they wouldn't be alone."
Another pause.
"Shall I ask some of them?" said Neville-Smith.
"Do."
"I could get quite a lot, I believe."
"That would be a start, wouldn't it? I could get a couple of dozen from Wain's. We should be forty or fifty strong to start with."
"I say, what a score, wouldn't it be?"
"Yes."
"I'll speak to the chaps to-night, and let you know."
"All right," said Wyatt. "Tell them that I shall be going anyhow. I should be glad of a little company."
The school turned in on the Thursday night in a restless, excited way. There were mysterious whisperings and gigglings. Groups kept forming in corners apart, to disperse casually and innocently on the approach of some person in authority.
An air of expectancy permeated each of the houses.
