“Then David has been suffering vicariously for Mr. Tovey,” remarked Adams.
Maddox laughed.
“Yes, sir, about that,” he said.
Adams relit his pipe.
“Funny thing this should have happened just now,” he said, “for Mr. Tovey has been sent to bed with flue.”
Maddox gave a cackle of delight.
“Gosh, what luck!” he said.
“Why?”
Instantly a scheme lit itself up in Maddox’s head.
“Why sir, you might suggest to the Head that some of the prefects—particularly me, I mean—should take some of Mr. Tovey’s work. He’s rather keen on that sort of thing; don’t you remember he told me to take your form for a couple of days when you were laid up last half? Well, sir, if you could manage that I descended on them out of the blue, say, to-morrow morning, before they know that Mr. Tovey’s gone sick, I bet I can reap a lot of them in. They’re sure to have learned their work with cribs; and then, you see, I’ve got David’s cribs, and I can tell if their construing comes out of cribs. O Lord, I see it all!”