athy about it."

"If the Head chooses to put a notice in the corridor forbiddin' marbles,
I can do something; but I can't move on a house-master's report. He
knows that as well as I do."

The sense of this oracle Beetle conveyed, all unsweetened, to King, who
hastened to interview Flint.

Now Flint had been seven and a half years at the College, counting six
months with a London crammer, from whose roof he had returned, homesick,
to the Head for the final Army polish. There were four or five other
seniors who had gone through much the same mill, not to mention
boys, rejected by other establishments on account of a certain
overwhelmingness, whom the Head had wrought into very fair shape. It was
not a Sixth to be handled without gloves, as King found.

"Am I to understand it is your intention to allow board-school games
under your study windows, Flint? If so, I can only say--" He said much,
and Flint listened politely.

"Well, sir, if the Head sees fit to call a prefects' meeting we are
bound to take the matter up. But the tradition of the school is that the
prefects can't move in any matter affecting the whole school without the
Head's direct order."

Much more was then delivered, both sides a little losing their temper.

After tea, at an informal gathering of prefects in his study, Flint
related the adventure.

"He's been playin' for this for a week, and now he's got it. You know as
well as I do that if he hadn't been gassing at us the way he has, that
young devil Beetle wouldn't have dreamed of marbles."

"We know that," said Perowne, "but that isn't the question. On
Flint's showin' King has called the prefects names enough to justify
a first-class row. Crammers' rejections, ill-regulated hobble-de-hoys,
wasn't it? Now it's impossible for prefects--"

"Rot," said Flint. "King's the best classical cram we've got; and
'tisn't fair to bother the Head with a row. He's up to his eyes with
extra-tu and Army work as it is. Besides, as I told King, we _aren't_ a
public school. We're a limited liability company payin' four per cent.
My father's a shareholder, too."

"What's that got to do with it?" said Venner, a red-headed boy of
nineteen.

"Well, seems to me that we should be interferin' with ourselves. We've
got to get into the Army or--get out, haven't we? King's hired by the
Council to teach us. All the rest's gumdiddle. Can't you see?"

It might have been because he felt the air was a little thunderous tha