“Give the key a twist, then,” said Kenryck. “Proceed with your exposition.”
“To continue,” obediently went on the young man, “I’m the party for whom this Boardman is out gunning. He keeps a place where a lot of the students have club-tables, and I used to belong to a club of fellows that resorted there for nourishment—which, I may state, was not of the highest grade, though we paid a princely price for it. Well, last winter I had to be away from college for about three weeks, and I left without giving notice to Boardman. Which resulted in two claims: Boardman’s, that I owed him thirty dollars for three weeks’ un-eaten grub—and mine, that he ought to be struck by lightning for his superhuman nerve.”
“Ah! I have the clue now,” said Kenryck. “Come, let’s get to work on straightening out things. Pick up your flag, and—”
“But that’s not quite all of it,” interrupted the occupant of the turret. “You see, this man Boardman isn’t a pleasant person to have dealings with. He’s very rough-tongued, and never sand-papers down his sentences. And the last time we argued over our differences I was so displeased by his lack of breeding that I—well, he made me hot under my collar, and I hit him just above his. See?”
“Oho! he’s after you for assault, is he?” said Kenryck. “That’s pleasant for Orcutt!”
“Yes, for assault—and battery,” assented Millar. “And I judge that it may be very pleasant for Orcutt. For Boardman swore that he’d get square with me some day, and I fancy—though the reports from across the river don’t go much into details—that he’s considerably in earnest about doing the squaring-up without any farther delay.” And, in spite of the seriousness of the situation, he gave way to another fit of laughter.
“Ah, yes!” said Kenryck, frowning darkly upon his subordinate, “all this is amazingly ludicrous, isn’t it? But you’ll have an aching arm, just the same, before you get through with swinging that bamboo stick of yours: for we’ve got to flag this story over to Cambridge—and a very pretty bit of flagging it’ll make! Come, we’ve kept the other lads long enough on pins and needles and anxious seats: we must get to work.”
The message to be sent was a long one. I sat down upon Kenryck’s chair, pulled out my tobacco pouch, and charged my pipe afresh, for there seemed to be nothing requiring my immediate attention. Minute slipped after minute, while Kenryck’s voice kept along in steady monotone, and the bunting above our heads—whirring and flapping in intermittent accompaniment—busily went on with the task of changing the spoken words into the symbols of the code.
“There, that’ll keep the hill men busy for a time,” Kenryck observed, when the flag upon the turret gave a final downward sweep and then became still. “Phew! it was a long pull.”
“Why don’t you cut your middle station out of the circuit?” I asked. “It would save time if you did your talking direct.”