“No, you’ve mixed it up, you goat,” he said to Ferrers. “Your minor told me he awoke and heard the clock strike one, and lay awake till dressing-bell. Bang, wide awake, like—like toothache.”
“Sorry, of course it was,” said Ferrers, backing his fellow-conspirator up.
Bags shrugged his shoulders, and began to walk away.
“Afraid I can’t see the point,” he said. “So I’ll whack you at twelve, Blazes.”
David lay down again with complete unconcern.
“Right oh,” he said. “But, of course, if you’ve got anything to say about it all, you might be wise to say it yourself, and not let—well, somebody else say it for you. Ferrers Minor hasn’t told anybody yet, except his major and me. Not yet, you know,” he added.
Bags appeared to take no notice of this, unless he strolled away rather more deliberately than before. Then David turned quickly to Ferrers and whispered in his ear.
“Go and find your minor,” he said, “and don’t let Bags talk to him. I’m going to stop here. I shouldn’t wonder if Bags came back.”
“But what on earth is it all about?” asked Ferrers.
David’s eyes sparkled with devilish intrigue.