He thrust his hands into his pockets, turned to the door, and beckoned to Clive. "Come on," he said, somewhat sadly. "Let's clear. I'll take you in some other time."
That was just the very thing that Clive could not agree to. He had been thick-headed before. But now he was beginning to grasp the situation. It was awfully nice of Masters, too, he thought, though, to be sure, he didn't see the smile on the face of the attendant.
"What's up?" he demanded. "You're never going to leave the tuck without eating something?"
"Must," came the answer.
"Why?"
"Oh, never mind." Masters shrugged his shoulders, and went from the cottage, Clive following. "Fact is," he admitted, once they were outside, "I've forgotten to bring money with me. It's a beastly nuisance."
"But it don't matter," cried Clive. "I'll lend you some."
"And then, of course," Masters hurriedly interjected, "it's a sort of custom here, you know, for new kids to—oh, never mind, let's clear."
"To what?" demanded Clive, beginning to fathom the mystery.
"Well, if you must know, it's a sort of custom at Ranleigh for new kids to stand treat the first time they enter the tuck. But it don't matter, as I said. Let's clear. I never borrow money."