“Say, what are you gabbing about, anyway?” inquired Jonesie crossly. “If you’ve got something on your mind come out with it.”
“You know plaguey well what I’m talking about,” replied Cummings, losing his temper. “I came in here ready to call quits. If you won’t have it, all right. Then I’ll go to Faculty. A joke’s a joke, but you don’t need to keep it up forever!”
“Of course not; that’s what they call monotony,” Jonesie agreed blandly. Cummings scowled.
“You think you’re smart, don’t you? Well, you won’t when you get hauled up at the Office.”
“What for?”
“What for! For—for making a beastly pig-pen of my study! For upsetting my things! You know what for!”
“Not again?” exclaimed Jonesie in shocked tones.
“Half a dozen times! More! I’m sick of it. A joke’s a joke——”
“You said that before,” said the other, sweetly. “Now look here, Cummings: you blamed me two or three days ago for ‘pieing’ your room. I stood for that, but I’m not going to have you keep it up all——”
“Then you quit——”