rum! Hid in the
coal-locker--and tweaked Rabbits-Eggs--and Rabbits-Eggs rocked King.
Wasn't it beautiful? Did you hear the glass?"

"Why, he--he--he," shrieked McTurk, one trembling finger pointed at
Beetle.

"Why, I--I--I was through it all," Beetle howled; "in his study, being
jawed."

"Oh, my soul!" said Stalky with a yell, disappearing under water.

"The--the glass was nothing. Manders minor's head's cut open.
La--la--lamp upset all over the rug. Blood on the books and papers. The
gum! The gum! The gum! The ink! The ink! The ink! Oh, Lord!"

Then Stalky leaped out, all pink as he was, and shook Beetle into some
sort of coherence; but his tale prostrated them afresh.

"I bunked for the boot-cupboard the second I heard King go down-stairs.
Beetle tumbled in on top of me. The spare key's hid behind the loose
board. There isn't a shadow of evidence," said Stalky. They were all
chanting together.

"And he turned us out himself--himself--himself!" This from McTurk. "He
can't begin to suspect us. Oh, Stalky, it's the loveliest thing we've
ever done."

"Gum! Gum! Dollops of gum!" shouted Beetle, his spectacles gleaming
through a sea of lather. "Ink and blood all mixed. I held the little
beast's head all over the Latin proses for Monday. Golly, how the oil
stunk! And Rabbits-Eggs told King to poultice his nose! Did you hit
Rabbits-Eggs, Stalky?"

"Did I jolly well not? Tweaked him all over. Did you hear him curse? Oh,
I shall be sick in a minute if I don't stop."

But dressing was a slow process, because McTurk was obliged to dance
when he heard that the musk basket was broken, and, moreover, Beetle
retailed all King's language with emendations and purple insets.

"Shockin'!" said Stalky, collapsing in a helpless welter of half-hitched
trousers. "So dam' bad, too, for innocent boys like us! Wonder what
they'd say at 'St. Winifred's, or the World of School.'--By gum! That
reminds me we owe the Lower Third one for assaultin' Beetle when he
chivied Manders minor. Come on! It's an alibi, Samivel; and, besides, if
we let 'em off they'll be worse next time."

The Lower Third had set a guard upon their form-room for the space of a
full hour, which to a boy is a lifetime. Now they were busy with their
Saturday evening businesses--cooking sparrows over the gas with
rusty nibs; brewing unholy drinks in gallipots; skinning moles with
pocket-knives; attending to paper trays full of silkworms, or discussing
the iniquities