"Oh, please, Forge, I'd rather not go until I've spoken to you privately," the Junior said.
"Privately! Well, of all the nerve! You can say anything you've got to say in front of my friend here, and look slippery, too. Doubt if I ought to let you speak at all—butting into our conversation like that."
"Sorry, Forge, but I don't think you'll mind when I've told you everything. I've come to you for protection."
"Protection! From me? I'm honoured—overwhelmed! Take a square look at this young genius, Roger. Is he quite 'all there', do you consider?"
"Nothing balmy about me, Forge," said the youngster, with self-possession. "I merely called to lay a complaint——"
"Well, don't lay it as heavily as a foundation-stone," interrupted Dick. "That'll do for the first part of your speech, youngster. Hurry up with the second. I'll give you a couple of minutes."
He took out his watch.
"I'm Mawdster, from Holbeck's House—the boy who stuck up for the Rooke's House Rag when all my chums were slating it."
"Ah, to be sure!" said Roger. "One of the Squirms, and looks it, too."
The Junior gave Roger a quick glance which seemed to say, "It's none of your business, anyhow." Then he made his moan.