“He’s a jolly nice little man,” Marlay told him. “He chewed my head off and it didn’t begin to choke him.”
“It nearly choked me, though,” he added.
“Well, what are you going to do now?” asked Transome, interested. It isn’t every day that the other one of a school rackets-pair is expelled; and besides, Transome wanted to know what Marlay was going to do—he hadn’t the faintest idea what he would do if he were sacked, except avoid his people like the plague.
Ivor dug his hands deep in his pockets.
“I’m going,” he said firmly, “down to the House. I’m going to bribe or kick the boot-boy into packing my things and dragging them to the station. I am then going to leap on my motor-bike and shift like hell to London. On my arrival there I shall be made to stand in a corner for an hour. And then I shall dress and go to the Empire——”
“Swank!” said Transome.
“And if you’ve got any sense,” Ivor added, with a grin, “you’ll come with me, Transome. On the carrier. You can come back to-morrow saying you’ve been to see a corn-specialist, and get the sack in perfect order. Your father, being a colonel, would appreciate your sense of discipline.”
“Yes, with his boot. Though I’d come,” Transome thoughtfully admitted, “only I’m leaving at the end of the term anyway. Might as well wait——”
“Well, good-bye, old chap!” And Ivor held out his hand.
He looked extraordinarily happy, Transome thought.