"Well, you've got a pretty tall nerve, Patchie! I'll confess that I'd never have thought of such a dodge."
"Its boldness," averred Septimus, "is its strength. To-morrow I shall prove that. Meanwhile, there is a most irritating chunk of Sallust to be prepared for the morn. Leave me to it."
And, opening his books, the extraordinary fellow calmly set to work. After a moment or two of silence, Jack picked up the volume from which Patch had been taking swimming instruction, and began to turn its leaves idly....
On the following morning, Mr. Salmon entered the classroom with his usual salutation, and the whole form eyed him apprehensively. Would he surprise them in their deception? Was an awful row impending?
For, in the back row of the class, reclining gracefully on Billy Faraday's seat, was a dummy figure. Attired in an old suit of Billy's, it looked very lifelike, its arms supporting a book on the desk before it, and its head apparently none the less attentive for being stuffed with straw.
As the lesson proceeded, and as the master still failed to smell a rat, the class's fears subsided, and they began to enjoy the joke. Subdued chuckles sounded at intervals, the presence of the dummy schoolboy striking his companions as distinctly grotesque; but, as Patch had said, Mr. Salmon was almost deaf and very dim of sight, and unless anything out of the ordinary occurred, Billy's absence would pass unnoticed.
"Bathgate," said Mr. Salmon suddenly, "commence the translation. Line 25."
Bathgate, a big, sleepy youth at the back corner of the class, awoke suddenly from his dreams of better things, and began translating the Latin in a loud, clear, albeit, a trifle hesitant, voice.
"Speak up," commanded Mr. Salmon.
"Ought to yell in your ear," observed Bathgate, with a humorous glance at his mates.