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"Do," said Bobbie, "and tell her why we tied you up! Come on, Phil. No, I'm not a beast, Peter. But you wouldn't stop when we asked you and " "Yah," said Peter, "it wasn't even your own idea. You got it out of Stalky!" Bobbie and Phil, retiring in silent dignity, were met at the door by the Doctor. He came in rubbing his hands and looking pleased with himself. "Well," he said, "THAT job's done.
"Pax, Turkey. I'm an ass." "Don't stop, Turkey. Isn't your Uncle Stalky a great man?" "Great man," said Beetle. "All the same bug-huntin's a filthy business," said McTurk. "How the deuce does one begin?" "This way," said Stalky, turning to some fags' lockers behind him. "Fags are dabs at Natural History. Here's young Braybrooke's botany-case."
"Blind, am I," said Beetle, "and a beast? Shut up, Stalky. I'm goin' to jape a bit with our friend, a' la 'Molly' Fairburn. I think I can see. Can't I see, Sefton?" "The point is well taken," said McTurk, watching the strap at work. "You'd better say that he sees, Seffy." "You do you can! I swear you do!" yelled Sefton, for strong arguments were coercing him. "Aren't my eyes lovely?"
The official hour of punishment was long passed, but no one thought of that. They were backing up Stalky Stalky in deadly fear lest his voice should crack. "He does you credit, Sergeant," was the visitor's comment. "A good drill and good material to drill. Now, it's an extraordinary thing: I've been lunching with your head-master and he never told me you had a cadet-corps in the College."
Stalky led inland to the wood, which was, perhaps, a quarter of a mile from the sea, and reached the fringe of the brambles. "Now we can get straight down through the furze, and never show up at all," said the tactician. "Beetle, go ahead and explore. Snf! Snf! Beastly stink of fox somewhere!"
But it was characteristic of the boy that he did not approach his allies till he had met and conferred with little Hartopp, President of the Natural History Society, an institution which Stalky held in contempt, Hartopp was more than surprised when the boy meekly, as he knew how, begged to propose himself, Beetle, and McTurk as candidates; confessed to a long-smothered interest in first-flowerings, early butterflies, and new arrivals, and volunteered, if Mr.
"Silence at drum-head court-martial," McTurk went on. "I'm advocate for the prisoner; and, besides, this is much too good to tell all the other brutes in the Coll. They'd never understand. They play cricket, and say: 'Yes sir, and 'O, sir, and 'No, sir." "Never mind that. Go ahead," said Stalky. "Well, Foxy's a good little chap when he does not esteem himself so as to be clever."
"What d'you take any notice of those rotters for?" said Stalky, playing substitute for the Old Boys, magnificent in black jersey, white knickers, and black stockings. "I talked to him up in the dormitory when he was changin'. Pulled his sweater down for him. He's cut about all over the arms horrid purply ones. He's goin' to tell us about it to-night. I asked him to when I was lacin' his boots."
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