he bribed officials for early proofs of the Army Examination papers; but this absence was unusually prolonged.
'Downy old bird!' said Stalky to the allies, one wet afternoon, in the study. 'He must have gone on a bend an' been locked up, under a false name.'
'What for?' Beetle entered joyously into the libel.
'Forty shillin's or a month for hackin' the chucker-out of the Pavvy on the shins. Bates always has a spree when he goes to town. 'Wish he was back, though. I'm about sick o' King's "whips an' scorpions" an' lectures on public-school spirit—yah!—and scholarship!'
'"Crass an' materialised brutality of the middle-classes—readin' solely for marks. Not a scholar in the whole school,"' M'Turk quoted, pensively boring holes in the mantelpiece with a hot poker.
'That's rather a sickly way of spending an afternoon. 'Stinks, too. Let's come out an' smoke. Here's a treat.' Stalky held up a long Indian cheroot. ' 'Bagged it from my pater last holidays. I'm a bit shy of it, though; it's heftier than a pipe. We'll smoke it palaver-fashion. Hand it round, eh? Let's lie up behind the old harrow on the Monkey-farm Road.'
'Out of bounds. Bounds beastly strict these days, too. Besides, we shall cat.' Beetle sniffed the cheroot critically. 'It's a regular Pomposo Stinkadore.'
'You can; I shan't. What d'you say, Turkey?'
