Ten minutes later they wheeled out in line, by grace released from five o’clock call-over, and all the afternoon lay before them. So also unluckily did King, who never passed without witticisms. But brigades of Kings could not have ruffled Beetle that day. “Aha! Enjoying the study of light literature, my friends,” said he, rubbing his hands. “Common mathematics are not for such soaring minds as yours, are they?” (“One hundred a year,” thought Beetle, smiling into vacancy.) “Our open incompetence takes refuge in the flowery paths of inaccurate fiction. But a day of reckoning approaches, Beetle mine. I myself have prepared a few trifling foolish questions in Latin prose which can hardly be evaded even by your practised acts of deception. Ye-es, Latin prose. I think, if I may say so--but we shall see when the papers are set--‘Ulpian serves _your_ need.’ Aha! ‘_Elucescebat_, quoth our friend.’ We shall see! We shall see!” Still no sign from Beetle. He was on a steamer, his passage paid into the wide and wonderful world--a thousand leagues beyond Lundy Island. King dropped him with a snarl. “He doesn’t know. He’ll go on correctin’ exercises an’ jawin’ an’ showin’ off before the little boys next term--and next.” Beetle hurried after his companions up the steep path of the furze-clad hill behind the College. They were throwing pebbles on the top of the gasometer, and the grimy gas-man in charge bade them desist. They watched him oil a turncock sunk in the ground between two furze-bushes. “Cokey, what’s that for?” said Stalky. “To turn the gas on to the kitchens,” said Cokey. “If so be I didn’t turn her on, yeou young gen’lemen ’ud be larnin’ your book by candlelight.” “Um!” said Stalky, and was silent for at least a minute. “Hullo! Where are you chaps going?” A bend of the lane brought them face to face with Tulke, senior prefect of King’s house--a smallish, white-haired boy, of the type that must be promoted on account of its intellect, and ever afterwards appeals to the Head to support its authority when zeal has outrun discretion. The three took no sort of notice. They were on lawful pass. Tulke repeated his question hotly, for he had suffered many slights from Number Five study, and fancied that he had at last caught them tripping. “What the devil is that to you?” Stalky replied with his sweetest smile. “Look here, I’m not goin’--I’m not goin’ to be sworn at by the Fifth!” sputtered Tulke. “Then cut along and call a prefects’ meeting,” said McTurk, knowing Tulke’s weakness. The prefect became inarticulate with rage. “Mustn’t yell at the Fifth that way,” said Stalky. “It’s vile bad form.” “Cough it up, ducky!” McTurk said calmly. “I--I want to know what you chaps are doing out of bounds?” This with an important flourish of his ground-ash. “Ah,” said Stalky. “Now we’re gettin’ at it. Why didn’t you ask that before?” “Well, I ask it now. What are you doing?”