"You know what to expect, eh?"
"Yes. I don't care."
"Look here, Darrell, don't be a donkey. Fellows don't look at other chaps' notes, or listen to secrets. You're right not to split. Get back to bed. Promise not to send any more and I'll let you off the drill."
"Not after this one," said Clive. "It's important."
Sturton grinned. He could thoroughly sympathise, and he rather liked Clive for his show of obstinacy.
"Pitch it over then," he said, "and let it be the last. I'll whack you if you break your promise."
"But a chap can telephone, and we'll have to work like niggers to get that thing going," said Clive, when he had whispered to Susanne.
"That won't be sending notes. I wouldn't break a promise to anyone, least of all to Sturton. He's a decent fellow."
The morrow found the Old Firm jubilant and expectant. They slipped off after Chapel, raced down to the common and espied a panting car over by the windmill. All together they changed their school caps for bowlers and donned their overcoats. Susanne and Masters, who always did these things in superior style, had donned the tallest of tall collars, while the former had blossomed forth with an eyeglass. And we are bound to confess that Susanne thus decked out made quite a handsome and impressive foreigner. Masters had the appearance of a third-rate actor, for, as we have said, his collar was of the highest, while his fancy waistcoat would have roused the envy of a Cockney. Patent leather boots, spats, and a cane of huge proportions completed a turn-out which was distinctly startling. However, who thought of that, for were they not off on an expedition which promised huge excitement?
"I mean to get a lift in one of the machines," said Clive deliberately.