“Rather!” said Heathcote, taking his head out of the towel. “I wish I could swim as well as he can.”
“Humph!” said Swinstead, when presently the two Seniors were left to themselves. “Number Two’s modest; Number One’s cocky.”
“Therefore,” said Birket, “Number Two will remain Number Two, and number One will remain Number One.”
“Right you are, most learned Plato! but I’m curious to see how Number One gets out of his friendly call on Cresswell. Think he’ll cheek it?”
“Yes; and we shan’t hear many particulars from him.”
Birket was right, as he very often was.
Dick, on waking, was a good deal perplexed, to find his friend absent, and when he heard the reason he was more than perplexed—he was vexed. It wasn’t right of Heathcote, or loyal, to take advantage of him in this way, and he should complain of it.
Meanwhile he had plenty to occupy his mind in endeavouring to recover his “baby’s” wardrobe, a quest which, as time went on and the chapel bell began to sound, came to be exciting.
However, just as he was about to go to the matron and represent to her the delicate position of affairs, a bundle was thrown in through the ventilator over the door, and fell into the middle of the dormitory floor. Where it came from there was no time to inquire.
Aspinall was hustled into his garments as quickly as possible, and then hustled down the stairs and into chapel just as the bell ceased ringing and the door began to close.