matical master, stuttered, a fierce joy on his face. 'You've been had—precisely the same as me!'
'And so you held an inquiry?' Little Hartopp's voice drowned Mason's ere Prout caught the import of the sentence.
'The boy himself hinted at the existence of a good deal of it in the house,' said Prout.
'He is past master in that line,' said the chaplain. 'But, as regards the honour of the house'
'They lowered it in a week. I have striven to build it up for years. My own house-prefects—and boys do not willingly complain of each other—besought me to get rid of them. You say you have their confidence, Gillett: they may tell you another tale. As far as I am concerned, they may go to the devil in their own way. I'm sick and tired of them,' said Prout bitterly.
But it was the Reverend John, with a smiling countenance, who went to the devil just after Number Five had cleared away a very pleasant little brew (it cost them two and fourpence) and was settling down to prep.
'Come in, Padre, come in,' said Stalky, thrusting forward the best chair. 'We've only met you official-like these last ten days.'
'You were under sentence,' said the Reverend John. 'I do not consort with malefactors.'
'Ah, but we're restored again,' said McTurk. 'Mr. Prout has relented.'
'Without a stain on our characters,' said Beetle. 'It was a painful episode, Padre, most painful.'
'Now, consider for a while, and perpend, mes enfants. It is about your characters that I've called
