“Don’t you call me dirty!” cried Standart shrilly. “I’ll wash the way I want to, and if you don’t like it you can lump it!”
Monty glanced at the closed door and arose from the bed whereon he had been seated while awaiting his turn at the washstand, with a smile of anticipation. Standart, towel in hand, watched him suspiciously. “Let me show you, partner,” said Monty. “It isn’t half as bad as you think it is.”
“Keep away from me!” threatened Standart, dropping the towel and seizing his tooth-mug. “Don’t you dare touch me! If you come any nearer I’ll throw this!”
“If you do you’ll break it, son,” replied Monty. “And if you broke it you couldn’t brush your teeth any more. And if you couldn’t brush your teeth your heart would break, too. And——”
Whizz went the tooth-mug, but Monty ducked and it banged against the further wall, to the marring of the plaster and rolled under a bed. Just one instant later Standart was choking, sputtering, writhing and kicking as, held firmly in Monty’s grasp, he was subjected to ablutions as enthusiastic as they were informal. Monty scorned the few cupfuls of water in the basin. Instead, he dipped Standart’s washcloth in the pitcher, rubbed it on the soap and set to work. His left arm encircled Alvin’s neck and held tightly a generous fold of his pyjama jacket and his right wielded the cloth. The victim of his philanthropy said things, or tried to say things, that were, to say the least, ungentlemanly. Some of the expressions he sought to enunciate were of the sort never used in polite society. But whenever he threatened to become the least bit coherent Monty deftly introduced the soapy, dripping washcloth into his mouth, with the result that Standart’s remarks were for the most part made from between clenched teeth, and therefore they lacked conviction. But, at that, he managed to make considerable noise, and Monty, fearing that interruption would come before his task was completed, worked hard and fast.
“Behind the ears, Standart,” he said. “And around the back of the neck. That’s the ticket. Quiet, hombre! Where do you get that stuff, son? Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? All right, keep quiet then if you don’t like the taste of it. Sorry you’ve got these pyjamas on, because I’d like mighty well to do this job proper. Kicking won’t help! And never mind pinching! A little more water now——”
“If you don’t—gurgle—I’ll kill—gug, gug—you, you——!”
“Your language would make a horse-thief blush! I’m ashamed of you, Standart. Almost through now. You can’t expect me to get all the dirt off the first time, son, but if you behave nice I’ll have another go at you some day. I can almost see your skin here! Now, then, we’ll wash the soap off!” Whereupon Monty seized the half-filled pitcher and quickly and unsuspectedly inverted it over Standart’s head!
At the same instant, three occupants of neighboring rooms, having knocked and hailed without response, thrust open the door. Monty with the self-congratulating expression of one who has performed a difficult task with neatness and dispatch, had retreated from the scene of action, and Standart, gasping and spluttering incoherent vows of revenge, was standing, drenched to the skin, in an ever-widening pool of water. The boys in the doorway looked for a moment with wide-open mouths, and then three shrieks of laughter drowned Standart’s angry threats.
“Wha—what’s up?” gasped Joe Mullins delightedly.