“Oh, I expect you know,” he said. “It’s partly because I know already what you’re going to tell me, and partly because you’re a swindling, stealing liar, and the sooner other chaps know that the better.”
Bags made a swinging blow in the air with his racquet-handle.
“Well then, I don’t care,” he said. “I’ll give you three of the jolliest cuts you ever had at twelve.”
“Will you? After Ferrers Minor has told his story?” asked David.
“Well, I tried to get out of it,” said the unhappy Bags.
“There was an awful bright moon last night, Crabtree,” said David thoughtfully. “But about what you want to tell me. It might make a difference if you told me voluntarily.”
Bags capitulated.
“Well, then, I took your beastly stag-beetles, and put them back on your bed when you had gone to your bath.”
“Oh, that was the way it was?” said David. “Pretty cute. But then, you see, I was cuter. Ferrers Minor didn’t lie awake a minute, as far as I know. But I saw you had a bad conscience. Can’t think why you didn’t accept my challenge straight off. Why didn’t you?”
He looked at the dejected Bags, and his funny boyish little soul suddenly grew perceptive.