“Dot ticktograft hears vot you say dhere, unt rebeadts idt here?”
“Something like that, Villum; it’s a sort of secret telephone.”
“Uh-huh! I standt under idt; unt idt vouldt haf been greadt.”
No conscientious scruples, nor even the fear of discovery, would have kept Villum from putting the scheme over, if he could have done it. He would have had wires running not only to the Duke’s room, but to Kadir Dhin’s, and to the room of every other fellow he suspected at present of being engaged in scheming against them.
“Vale, idt iss inderesdting,” he said, as he got lazily out of his chair; “but I can’t t’ink apowet idt now. I haf got to gedt me some more ackvainted mit Chulius Cæsar.”
Yet he was still thinking about it as he went to his room to tackle his Latin and follow the wanderings and battles of Cæsar.
That night, having been out in the village, as he was passing Dickey’s place, on his way to the barracks, the hour for closing the barracks being at hand, Kess ran into a dog fight. A pair of Airedales, one of them being Dickey’s, opened a furious combat right in front of him.
Villum jumped back out of the way.
“Yiminy!” he said. “Almosdt I hadt a toe bit off.”
Out of Dickey’s poured a miscellaneous crowd, Dickey in the midst with a pail of water, which he threw over the fighting dogs in the hope that it would separate them.