"He hasn't run me in," said Grim, sulkily. "As a special favour he's let me come in here to work a little myself. I did a ripping chemistry paper last week, and—"
"Oh, I see. Are you going to give Biffen's another leg up, too?"
"Just as soon as you give Taylor's one," said Grim, who, in common with all the juniors, did not fear the easy-going Todd.
"No cheek!" said Gus. "If I mixed up coal-dust and brick-dust, how'd you separate 'em?"
"Ask my grandmother for a telescope, and look out the mix through the butt end."
"Quite so," said Todd, chuckling. "I suppose you've given me a specimen of Biffen's latest brand of wit. Well, don't make too big a row in hunting for your copper, and then I'll not chuck you out."
Grim murmured something disparaging Todd's authority for chucking out, but Gus languidly sidled off to his own particular bench, where, out of sight of Grim, he prepared to do an afternoon's quiet work.
Meanwhile Grim's particular cronies, Wilson, Rogers, Sharpe, Poulett, and young Bourne, arrayed in all the glory of mud-stained footer-togs, after vainly waiting outside Biffen's, were seeking high and low for the copper-hunting chemist, who, for many reasons, had kept his afternoon's plan very dark. He knew only too well that his beloved chums would not hear of an afternoon's work, and would head him off either to footer or a run round the Bender. Therefore, immediately after dinner, he had made an unostentatious exit, and reached the laboratory in safety.
"Where is Grimmy?" said Sharpe.
"Dunno," said Wilson.