"I want to," said John, coolly enough, although his heart was throbbing. "It's horribly fuggy in here, and I've Jambi[26] to do; but I'm not going till you give me your word that you'll leave young Kinloch alone."
"If you don't walk out I'll chuck you out."
"You must catch me first," said John.
And then a very pretty chase took place. Beaumont-Greene, fat, scant of breath, full of macaroons, began to pursue John round and round the table. John skilfully interposed chairs, sofa-cushions, anything he could lay hands on. Passing the washstand, he secured an enormous sponge, which an instant later flew souse into the face of the grampus. An abridged edition of Liddell and Scott's Greek Lexicon followed. This nearly brought the big fellow to grass. In his rage he, too, began to hurl what objects happened to be within reach, but he was a shocking bad shot; he missed, or John dodged every time. John did not miss. Finally, as John had foreseen, a couple of Sixth Form fellows rushed in.
"What's the meaning of this infernal row?" asked one.
"Ask him," said John.
Authority stared at Beaumont-Greene, and then at his wrecked room.
"I told him to hook it, and he wouldn't," spluttered the gasping Greene.
Half a dozen other fellows had come into the room. Amongst them the Duffer and the Caterpillar.