For answer Robin pulled down the upper part of a big window and his Merry Men followed his lead, flooding the over-heated room with sweet night air.
"There, that's better!" cried Robin. "Carry on with the chess."
The Squirms were outmanoeuvred. They had either to abandon full and complete victory or finish the tournament in a torrent of air which swept their score-cards to the floor. So, with sinking hearts, and the sourest of faces, they turned up their coat-collars and decided to "stick it".
At chess most of the Merry Men went down like ninepins, some of them having difficulty in distinguishing knights from bishops.
Once again the Squirms swept the board. Allan a Dale and Robin, by dint of mental gymnastics which made their heads swim, wrung draws from Vinns and Osbody respectively; but these partial successes only threw the general rout of the Merry Men into stronger relief. Just as they had expected, they were decisively and ignominiously thrashed.
Immediately the Squirms became a Mutual Admiration Society. Hands were wrung and shoulders were slapped, and in every way the Merry Men were made to feel that they were very small potatoes indeed. In unutterable disgust at such exceedingly bad taste, they trooped to the door.
"Here, aren't you going to give three cheers for the winners?" Osbody called after them.
With eyes that blazed contemptuously Robin flung round on him.
"No, we're not," he said. "This wasn't a tournament from the start. It was like a rabbit-coursing match, where they blind and starve the rabbits before they let the dogs loose."
"Rubbish!" Osbody scoffed. "It was man to man. We met on even terms!"