“Hullo!” A voice behind made him skip.
“Oh, Berry,”—it was a tone of relief,—“it's you.”
“Um,” said Berry, “what's up now, Jenk?” He tossed back his head, while a smile of delight ran all over his face.
“Hush—come here.” Jenk had him now within Joel's room and the door shut. “We'll have fun with the beggar now.”
“Who—Dave?”
“Dave? No. Who wants to haul him over?” cried Jenk in scorn. “You are a flat, Berry, if you think that.”
“Well, you are a flat, if you think to tackle Joe,” declared Berry with the air and tone of one who knows. “Better let him alone, after what you got last term.”
“Well, I ain't going to let him alone,” declared Jenk angrily, and flushing all up to his shock of light hair; “and I gave him quite as good as he gave me, I'd have you know, Tom Beresford.”
“Hoh, hoh!” Tom gave a howl of derision, and slapped his knee in pure delight. “Tell that to the marines, sonny,” he said.
“Hush—old Fox will hear you. Be still, can't you?”—twitching his jacket—“and stop your noise.”