“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 to-night. In the language of the schools, what the dooce _have_ you been up to in Mr. Prout’s house? It isn’t anything to laugh over. He says that you so lowered the tone of the house he had to pack you back to your studies. Is that true?” “Every word of it, Padre.” “Don’t be flippant, Turkey. Listen to me. I’ve told you very often that no boys in the school have a greater influence for good or evil than you have. You know I don’t talk about ethics and moral codes, because I don’t believe that the young of the human animal realizes what they mean for some years to come. All the same, I don’t want to think you’ve been perverting the juniors. Don’t interrupt, Beetle. Listen to me. Mr. Prout has a notion that you have been corrupting your associates somehow or other.” “Mr. Prout has so many notions, Padre,” said Beetle wearily. “Which one is this?” “Well, he tells me that he heard you telling a story in the twilight in the form-room, in a whisper. And Orrin said, just as he opened the door, ‘Shut up, Beetle; it’s too beastly.’ Now then?” “You remember Mrs. Oliphant’s ‘Beleaguered City’ that you lent me last term?” said Beetle. The Padre nodded. “I got the notion out of that. Only, instead of a city, I made it the Coll. in a fog--besieged by ghosts of dead boys, who hauled chaps out of their beds in the dormitory. All the names are quite real. You tell it in a whisper, you know with the names. Orrin didn’t like it one little bit. None of ’em have ever let me finish it. It gets just awful at the end part.” “But why in the world didn’t you explain to Mr. Prout, instead of leaving him under the impression--?” “Padre Sahib,” said McTurk, “it isn’t the least good explainin’ to Mr. Prout. If he hasn’t one impression, he’s bound to have another.” “He’d do it with the best o’ motives. He’s _in loco parentis_,” purred Stalky. “You young demons!” the Reverend John replied. “And am I to understand that the---the usury business was another of your house-master’s impressions?” “Well--we helped a little in that,” said Stalky. “I did owe Beetle two and fourpence at least, Beetle says I did, but I never intended to pay him. Then we started a bit of an argument on the stairs, and--and Mr. Prout dropped into it accidental. That was how it was, Padre. He paid me cash down like a giddy Dook (stopped it out of my pocket-money just the same), and Beetle gave him my note-of-hand all correct. I don’t know what happened after that.”