"Ever since that day, Forge, I've caught it hot from both sides—my own and Robin Hood's. And all because I said your mag. was better got-up than The Foxonian."
Dick and Roger exchanged half-amused glances. Then Dick looked back at his watch.
"One minute," he chuckled. "Any more of this, kid?"
"A lot, Forge! They blackguard me all the time—I've a dog's life between the two gangs—and yesterday they held my head down ever so long in the fountain."
"Did you report that to your prefect?"
"Yes—to Harwood. But he only laughed and said it would save me the trouble of washing myself—or some such rot. I know why he did nothing—because he'd heard I'd been running The Foxonian down and praising your Rag, Forge. He'll always have his knife into me for that."
"Oh, rather!" said the Captain, ironically. "Quite a natural assumption that Harwood will lie awake o' nights wondering how to get even with you. Don't be an idiot, young Mudster."
"Mawdster, if you please, Forge," the Junior corrected, not too respectfully.
"Mawdster, then! Don't snap! I think I understand you now. You belong to Holbeck's House, whose prefect snubs you. Then, because you once praised my magazine, you expect me to slip across and break a stick over the backs of a score of youngsters who are ragging you. If there's a more brazen little bounder in the whole of Foxenby, I've yet to hear of him. Quit!"
"But please, Forge——"