"Oh, we'll make you a present of the seconds," said Arbery. Then he shouted across to the Bedes: "I say, Beetles, is that champion of yours coming on an ambulance?"
"No; that's coming after," cried a bright-eyed lad named Sterry, from the other side, "to take your champion home!"
A loud laugh from the Bedes greeted this retort.
"He scored over you there, Arbery," said indolent Waterman.
Scarcely had the laughter died away than it was followed by a loud cheer.
"Their man's coming at last. What's the time, Levy?"
"One minute thirty secs. to the hour. He's cut it rather fine—must be a cool sort of bounder," answered Leveson. "Hallo, look there! Hang me if there isn't Master Plunger and a lot of the howlers from his form."
Arbery looked in the direction indicated. Plunger and his companions were lying at full length on the banks of the pit, peering over its sides and taking the deepest possible interest in the proceedings below.
"So it is. How did the little beggar get to know what was going on, I wonder?"
"Said he was going eel-fishing. Thought it was a blind," said Devey. "Hallo, they're peeling!"