“Oh, all right,” said Jellicoe. “But I wasn’t going to tell any one, of course.”
“What do you mean?”
“You are a chap!” giggled Jellicoe.
Mike walked to chapel rather thoughtfully.
[ CHAPTER XLVII
MR. DOWNING ON THE SCENT]
There was just one moment, the moment in which, on going down to the junior day-room of his house to quell an unseemly disturbance, he was boisterously greeted by a vermilion bull terrier, when Mr. Downing was seized with a hideous fear lest he had lost his senses. Glaring down at the crimson animal that was pawing at his knees, he clutched at his reason for one second as a drowning man clutches at a lifebelt.
Then the happy laughter of the young onlookers reassured him.
“Who—” he shouted, “WHO has done this?”
“Please, sir, we don’t know,” shrilled the chorus.