"Beetle! You're oppressed and insulted and bullied by that beast King. Don't you feel it?"
"Leave me alone! I can write some more poetry about him if I am, I suppose. "
"Mad! Quite mad!" said Stalky to the visitors, as one exhibiting strange beasts. "Beetle reads an ass called Brownin', and McTurk reads an ass called Ruskin; and—"
"Ruskin isn't an ass," said McTurk. "He's almost as good as the Opium Eater. He says 'we're children of noble races trained by surrounding art.' That means me, and the way I decorated the study when you two badgers would have stuck up brackets and Christmas cards. Child of a noble race, trained by surrounding art, stop reading, or I'll shove a pilchard down your neck!"
"It's two to one," said Stalky, warningly, and Beetle closed the book, in obedience to the law under which he and his companions had lived for six checkered years.
The visitors looked on delighted. Number Five study had a reputation for more variegated insanity than the rest of the school put together; and so far as its code allowed friendship with outsiders it was polite and open-hearted to its neighbors on the same landing.
"What rot do you want to do now?" said Beetle.
"King! War!" said McTurk, jerking his head toward the wall, where hung a small wooden West African war-drum, a gift to McTurk from a naval uncle.
"Then we shall be turned out of the study again," said Beetle, who loved his flesh-pots. "Mason turned us out for—just warbling on it." Mason was the mathematical master who had testified in common-room.
"Warbling? — O my!" said Abanazar. "We couldn't hear ourselves speak in our study when you played the infernal thing. What's the good of getting turned out of your study, anyhow?"
"We lived in the form-rooms for a week, too," said Beetle, tragically. "And it was beastly cold."
"Ye-es, but Mason's rooms were filled with rats every day we were out. It took him a week to draw the inference," said McTurk. "He loathes rats. Minute he let us go back the rats stopped. Mason's a little shy of us now, but there was no evidence."
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SO—SO YOU DESPISE ME, MASTER GIGADIBS, DO YOU?"
"Jolly well there wasn't," said Stalky, "when I got out on the roof and dropped the beastly things down his chimney. But, look here, question is, are our characters good enough just now to stand a study row?"
"Never mind mine," said Beetle. "King swears I haven't any."
"I'm not thinking of you," Stalky returned, scornfully. "You aren't going up for the army, you old bat. I don't want to be expelled—and the Head's getting rather shy of us, too."
"Rot!" said McTurk. "The Head never expels except for beastliness or stealing. But I forgot; you and Stalky are thieves—regular burglars."
The visitors gasped, but Stalky interpreted the parable with large grins.
"Well, you know, that little beast Manders minor saw Beetle and me hammerin' McTurk's trunk open in the dormitory when we took his watch last month. Of course Manders sneaked to Mason, and Mason solemnly took it up as a case of theft, to get even with us about the rats."
"That delivered Mason into our hands, said McTurk, blandly. ' We were awfully nice to him, 'cause he was a new master and wanted to win the confidence of the boys. Pity he draws inferences, though. Stalky went to his study and pretended to
