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They saw a group of boys by the notice-board in the corridor; little Foxy, the school sergeant, among them. "More bounds, I expect," said Stalky. "Hullo, Foxibus, who are you in mournin' for?" There was a broad band of crape round Foxy's arm. "He was in my old regiment," said Foxy, jerking his head towards the notices, where a newspaper cutting was thumb-tacked between call-over lists.

"King'll have to prove his charges up to the giddy hilt." "Too much ticklee, him bust," Beetle quoted from a book of his reading. "Didn't I say he'd go pop if we lat un bide?" "No prep., either, O ye incipient drunkards," said McTurk, "and it's trig night, too. Hullo! Here's our dear friend Foxy. More tortures, Foxibus?"

"There was a C on it. I thought it was Mr. Corkran's. This is a very serious business, young gentlemen. That's what it is. I didn't know, perhaps, but there might be something on your side which you hadn't said to Mr. King or Mr. Prout, maybe." "There is. Heaps, Foxibus." This from Stalky through a full mouth.

"Here in the gym till you are fit an' capable to be taken out on the road." The Sergeant threw a chest. "For all the Northam cads to look at? Not good enough, Foxibus." "Well, we won't make a point of it. You learn your drill first, an' later we'll see." "Hullo," said Ansell of Macrea's, shouldering through the mob. "What's all this about a giddy cadet-corps?"

"I I noticed you 'adn't 'ad anything to eat, an' I spoke to Gumbly, an' he said you wasn't exactly cut off from supplies. So I brought up this. It's your potted 'am tin, ain't it, Mr. Corkran?" "Why, Foxibus, you're a brick," said Stalky. "I didn't think you had this much what's the word, Beetle?" "Bowels," Beetle replied, promptly. "Thank you, Sergeant. That's young Carter's potted ham, though."

"All sereno, Foxibus." Stalky had reached the extreme stage of hiccups. "We we'll never desert you, Foxy. Hounds choppin' foxes in cover is more a proof of vice, ain't it?... No, you're right. I'm I'm not quite well." "They've gone a bit too far this time," Foxy thought to himself. "Very far gone, I'd say, excep' there was no smell of liquor. An' yet it isn't like 'em somehow.