“Not bad for the first evening’s work,” said Stalky, rearranging his collar. “I fancy Prout’ll be somewhat annoyed. We’d better establish an alibi.” So they sat on Mr. King’s railings till prep.
“You see,” quoth Stalky, as they strolled up to prep. with the ignoble herd, “if you get the houses well mixed up an’ scufflin’, it’s even bettin’ that some ass will start a real row. Hullo, Orrin, you look rather metagrobolized.”
“It was all your fault, you beast! You started it. We’ve got two hundred lines apiece, and Heffy’s lookin’ for you. Just see what that swine Malpas did to my eye!”
“I like your saying we started it. Who called us cribbers? Can’t your infant mind connect cause and effect yet? Some day you’ll find out that it don’t pay to jest with Number Five.”
“Where’s that shillin’ you owe me?” said Beetle suddenly.
Stalky could not see Prout behind him, but returned the lead without a quaver. “I only owed you ninepence, you old usurer.”
“You’ve forgotten the interest,” said McTurk. “A halfpenny a week per bob is Beetle’s charge. You must be beastly rich, Beetle.”
“Well, Beetle lent me sixpence.” Stalky came to a full stop and made as to work it out on his fingers. “Sixpence on the nineteenth, didn’t he?”
“Yes; but you’ve forgotten you paid no interest on the other bob—the one I lent you before.”
“But you took my watch as security.” The game was developing itself almost automatically.