“I'll answer for it, it was Ferrers,” said Reginald.
“A likely story,” said Frank.
“I think it very likely,” said Reginald, firmly, “and woe be to him if he has.”
As he finished speaking, Reginald ran off in search of Ferrers, whom he found in a group of the head boys, into the midst of which he burst without the smallest ceremony.
“Manners!” exclaimed Hamilton; “I beg your pardon, Mr. Mortimer, for standing in your way.”
“I am very sorry,” said Reginald, bluntly, “but I can't stand upon ceremony. Ferrers, what have you been doing with Kenrick's Exercises—I mean the key to it?”
“I!” cried Ferrers, reddening violently; “what—what do you mean, Mortimer?”
“You have left the key on Louis' desk, to get him into a scrape—you know you have.”
“Upon my word, Mortimer! what next!” exclaimed Salisbury. “Who do you think would fash themselves about such a little hop-o'-my-thumb?”
“Will you let Ferrers answer!” cried Reginald, imperiously.