“But how can we if you’re going to stop it?” asked David.
“In hundreds of ways: by backing the prefects up without over-riding them. You’re sensible enough to know that.”
David considered this.
“Is the Head sick about it, sir?” he asked.
“He’s never sick about anything till he’s in full possession of the facts. He was prepared to be uncommonly sick, when he had only heard the other side. In fact, he said something about giving you another lesson with regard to obeying authorities. But after what you’ve told me I don’t think you need be alarmed.”
“Oh, I’m not,” said David. “Of course he’ll see there’s another side to it, same as you’ve done. Something had to happen when we got Manton and Crossley instead of Frank and Cruikshank.”
At this moment a small and completely soaked boy burst into the room, not seeing Adams, who was sitting behind the door, but only David.
“Letter for you, Blaize,” he said. “Oh, and I want to appeal. Sorry, sir, I didn’t see you.”
“You do now, Jevons,” said Adams. “So go on, tell Blaize what the appeal’s about.”
“Well, sir, somebody put my sponge on the top of Manton’s door, made a booby-trap, and because it’s my sponge he says I’m responsible unless I find out who put it there.”