“Did any of the others come with you—Driss, or Dyce, or any of the senior snotties?”
“No, I came alone.”
“They’ll come by a later train,” Cunwell declared. “They can go off by the seven o’clock officers’ boat. You bet the senior snotties anyhow won’t go on board before they must. I shouldn’t have come so early myself, but——”
“Aren’t the senior snotties on board already?” Fane-Herbert asked.
“No, of course not,” explained Cunwell, who knew everything. “The five senior snotties are also joining the King Arthur to-day. Didn’t you know? They’ve been doing their destroyer time, and things like that. Now they are coming back to a big ship for a year before their lieutenant’s exams. But I believe there are four intermediate snotties there already—second year people, one year senior to us.”
“I expect they won’t be too pleased with the seniors’ coming,” Sentley remarked.
“Oh, they’ll take it out of us,” Fane-Herbert said.
Lynwood was talking to Mr. Binney, and beginning to undress preparatory to getting into uniform. His round-jacket was lying on the table. Cunwell picked it up, and ostentatiously examined its sleeves.
“I say, Lynwood,” he said, “I can see the marks where your Cadet Captain’s stripe has been.”
“Can you? I can’t help it.”