“Oh! easy enough that. Say we don’t consider Riddell fit to be captain, and we’d sooner have some one else.”
“Better say we’d sooner have Bloomfield at once,” said Wibberly.
“No; please don’t mention my name,” said Bloomfield.
“Wouldn’t the best thing be to send Riddell back with a label, ‘Declined, with thanks,’ pinned on his coat-tail?” suggested Crossfield.
“Yes; and add, ‘Try again, Paddy,’” said Coates, laughing.
“And just mention no schoolhouse snobs are wanted,” said Tucker.
“And suggest, mildly, that a nice, clever, amiable, high-principled Welcher like Tom Tucker would be acceptable,” added Crossfield.
“Look here,” said Tucker, very red in the face, advancing towards his tormentor, “I’ve stood your impudence long enough, you cad, and I won’t stand any more.”
“Sit down, then,” replied Crossfield, cheerfully, “plenty of forms.”
“Look here, you fellows,” said Bloomfield again, “for goodness’ sake shut up. Have it out afterwards if you like, but don’t fight here.”