"Easy enough if we go the right way, and don't make a mess of it, like Newall did that night when he walked into the Forum."
"We're not talking about the Forum," said Plunger quickly, giving Harry another pinch. "We're talking about rafts—that raft," pointing to the one on the river.
"And it's that raft I'm talking about. Have you ever noticed what happens on a Saturday?"
"Many things happen on a Saturday; but what is the one thing that happens in particular?"
"The workmen on the bridge leave off exactly as the clock strikes twelve—a little bit sooner if they can manage it. Never later."
"Oh, yes; they're very punctual at leaving off. But what's that to do with the raft?"
"A good deal. They always leave the raft tied up under the bridge. What would be easier than to untie it, and there you are."
"Harry, you're a genius—a reg'lar genius!" cried Plunger, bringing his hand down on Harry's back. "It never sprouted out like that when you were at Gaffer Quelch's. It's come on since you've been at Garside. I must have helped it."
Plunger had undoubtedly helped in the development of what he was pleased to term Harry's "genius," but whether altogether to the advantage of Harry time alone could show.
"You helped it, Freddy! The only help you give is helping Number One. You ought to have belonged to the help-myself society. You'd have been just the fellow for the president."