“Never mind. Pay me my interest, or I’ll charge you interest on interest. Remember, I’ve got your note-of-hand!” shouted Beetle. “You are a cold-blooded Jew,” Stalky groaned. “Hush!” said McTurk very loudly indeed, and started as Prout came upon them. “I didn’t see you in that disgraceful affair in the form-room just now,” said he. “What, sir? We’re just come up from Mr. King’s,” said Stalky. “Please, sir, what am I to do about prep.? They’ve broken the desk you told me to sit at, and the form’s just swimming with ink.” “Find another seat--find another seat. D’you expect me to dry-nurse you? I wish to know whether you are in the habit of advancing money to your associates, Beetle?” “No, sir; not as a general rule, sir.” “It is a most reprehensible habit. I thought that my house, at least, would be free from it. Even with my opinion of you, I hardly thought it was one of your vices.” “There’s no harm in lending money, sir, is there?” “I am not going to bandy words with you on your notions of morality. How much have you lent Corkran?” “I--I don’t quite know,” said Beetle. It is difficult to improvise a going concern on the spur of the minute. “You seemed certain enough just now.” “I think it’s two and fourpence,” said McTurk, with a glance of cold scorn at Beetle. In the hopelessly involved finances of the study there was just that sum to which both McTurk and Beetle laid claim, as their share in the pledging of Stalky’s second-best Sunday trousers. But Stalky had maintained for two terms that the money was his “commission” for effecting the pawn; and had, of course, spent it on a study “brew.” “Understand this, then. You are not to continue your operations as a money-lender. Two and fourpence, you said, Corkran?” Stalky had said nothing, and continued so to do. “Your influence for evil is quite strong enough without buying a hold over your companions.” He felt in his pockets, and (oh joy!) produced a florin and fourpence. “Bring me what you call Corkran’s note-of-hand, and be thankful that I do not carry the matter any further. The money is stopped from your pocket-money, Corkran. The receipt to my study, at once!” Little they cared! Two and fourpence in a lump is worth six weekly sixpences any hungry day of the week. “But what the dooce _is_ a note-of-hand?” said Beetle. “I only read about it in a book.” “Now you’ve jolly well got to make one,” said Stalky. “Yes--but our ink don’t turn black till next day. S’pose he’ll spot that?” “Not him. He’s too worried,” said McTurk. “Sign your name on a bit of impot-paper, Stalky, and write, ‘I O U two and fourpence.’ Aren’t you grateful to me for getting that out of Prout? Stalky’d never have paid... Why, you ass!”