"Better send for Kelly and Hicks," said somebody.
Maxwell grew red, and there was a general laugh, for it was known that he was desperately afraid of Kelly and Hicks, two bulky and muscular libertines who did pretty well what they liked in the house.
"It's not Kelly or Hicks this time," said Pip, getting up and going to the door, "I'm pretty sure of that."
"How do you know?"
"Had my eye on them all the time."
"Oh!" The other monitors sighed rather enviously. Their chief object in life was not to keep their eye on Kelly and Hicks, but to keep the eye of those freebooters off themselves.
"Where are you going? Don't clear out till we have settled something," said Maxwell helplessly, as Pip turned the door-handle.
"All right!" said Pip, and was gone.
He turned down a passage towards a district known as "the Colony," where the boys' studies were situated. He was not on the track of Kelly and Hicks this time. Another idea had occurred to him—an idea which set the seal of certainty on a series of conjectures which had been forcing themselves upon his reluctant mind for some weeks. After a brief sojourn in a study en route—usually known as "the Pub," from the fact that it was always full—into which he was unanimously haled to decide an acrid dispute over certain questions connected with the Outside Edge, he steered a course for Linklater's apartment, which was situated somewhat remotely at the end of the passage. Linklater, by the way, had left tea some time before Mr. Chilford's angry visit.
He gave his usual heavy thump on the door, and walked in.