“I’ll fight you, old man, if you go on like that,” observed the schoolhouse fag.
“Oh, beg pardon,” said Parson, apologetically. “I mean who else could have done it, you know?”
“A Welcher might,” suggested Telson.
“What would be the good to him? They hadn’t a boat. Besides, they all go against Riddell, don’t they?”
“Well, I mean to say,” said Telson, falling back on to the next grievance, “your fellows ought to row us again. We’d have rowed you again like a shot if our line had smashed. We don’t funk you.”
“And do you think we funk you? A pack of—I mean,” added Parson, pulling up in time, “do you think we funk you?”
“Why don’t you row us again, then?”
“Because there’s no honour in the thing while your fellows go in for beastly low dodges like that,” replied Parson.
“I tell you,” said Telson, finding it very difficult to keep in with his friend, “we did not do it. I say we didn’t do it; there!”
“What’s the use of your saying that when you know no one but a schoolhouse fellow could have done it?” demanded his friend.