"Of course I do!" laughed Paul. "Mellor, you mean—once a Gargoyle, now a distinguished Beetle? Recollect it? Who could forget it? It labelled him to a T. You don't mean to say——"
"Yes, I do," smiled Wyndham. "He and another Beetle, whose name I needn't mention, captured the flag between them. It was a plucky thing to do, and when I found out what had happened, I don't think I should have troubled any more about it, only I remembered that there was a fellow at Garside who was standing alone, fighting against the wall."
"Wyndham!"
"Don't interrupt. This fellow was rather anxious to get hold of the missing flag; and so, out of respect for him, and not for any of the mean cads who hail from the same place, I persuaded Mellor & Co. to hand it over. It was not easy work, I can tell you. They felt that I was robbing them of their rightful prey. But at last they came round, and——"
"You got possession of the flag!" cried Paul. "How splendid of you, Wyndham! Instead of getting out of debt, I get deeper and deeper into it. But where is the flag?"
"Can't you guess?" smiled Wyndham.
"Guess?" repeated Paul, puzzled.
"Yes. I've done my part; that's your part," answered Wyndham, enjoying his mystification. "S'posing we go for the old game—'Hot boiled beans and very good butter'? Hallo!" The smile died from his face as his glance went to the roadway. "Here are some of your lot! They haven't got wind of our meeting, have they?"
Paul glanced in the direction of the roadway. Sure enough, there were four Garsiders coming along the road—Newall, Parfitt, Plunger, and Stanley. As his glance went to the road Parfitt caught sight of him; then all four stopped and glanced in the direction where Paul and Wyndham were standing. An animated conversation took place for a minute. It seemed as though they were undecided how to act. Then they came to a decision, and walked quickly on.
"I'm not sorry they didn't come, though I should have been pleased enough to meet them at any other time," said Wyndham contemptuously. "Let's get on with our game. Now, then, are you ready? 'Hot boiled beans, very good butter; ladies and gentlemen, come to supper.' At present you're frightfully cold, freezing, perfect icicle."