"No, but there's a time and a place for everything, and to-night's the time for enjoyment. Leave that impot, boy. I'll take it as presented."
He was gone in a moment, leaving Masters with a very red face indeed. "Well, I'm jiggered!" that young hopeful exclaimed, when at length he had recovered his balance. "I say, Seymour, Canning isn't a bad sort, is he? Did rather well to-day, eh? Not half a bad fellow. Think I shall patronise him in the future."
The climax of all came when they were ranged in order for Chapel. The great Harvey, smiling and serene as ever, passed down the lines of boys, and happened to hit on Masters.
"Hullo," he called. "I say, Masters, thanks."
The words almost caused another paroxysm of cheering. Masters went the colour of a beetroot.
"And, by the way," added Harvey, "about that ink stain. Expect it was an accident. I'll see the right people. Half a crown's too big a fine. Supposing we forget it?"
CHAPTER VII
PLANS FOR AN OUTING
Round about the "tortoise" stove in the workshop at Ranleigh the tongues of certain of the boys wagged with a vigour there was no denying and no checking. Susanne held the post of honour, seated on an up-turned box in front of the stove, his feet on the high, bent-iron fender which kept the hot cinders from coming into contact with the piles of shavings littering the floor. Clive lolled back, his shoulders against the corner of the nearest bench, while Masters occupied a place on the same form.