"'Wotcher got there,' 'e says, openin' the door sudden, 'a rat?' "'No,' says the doctor, without so much as lookin' up. ''E's a microbe--a cholera microbe.' "Bein' a hunedjicated sort o' bloke, the warder thought as 'ow 'e were bein' got at. "'Ho! a cholera microbe, is 'e?' 'e says, very sarcastic. 'Well per'aps when you've quite done with 'im, you'll be kind enough to 'and 'im over to me. We don't allow no pets in this 'ere prison. You'll be reported for this--that's wot you'll be.' "'Don't get excited about it,' says the doctor, quite cool, 'or you'll bust your 'eart--that's wot you'll do.' "'I'll teach yer to give me any o' your lip,' says the warder, steppin' forward an' liftin' up 'is 'and threatenin' like. "Afore 'e could so much as wink, the microbe gives one 'orrid sort o' snarl, and springs straight at 'is throat like a blood'ound. 'E sees it comin', and flings up the other 'and to guard 'isself. 'E were on'y just in time, too, for the microbe's teeth come together with a snap wot took the top clean off 'is little finger." "Wot! clean orf?" interrupted Bill incredulously. "As clean as if it 'ad been cut with a knife," repeated Mr. Parbury firmly. "The warder 'e turns round with a yell o' terror an' makes a bolt for the door. As 'e slams it be'ind 'im 'e 'ears the doctor a-laughin' fit to die, an' tellin' the microbe to drop the bit of finger wot 'e 'ad in 's mouth. 'E goes straight orf to the 'ead warder as 'ard as ever 'e can lick. 'Look 'ere!' 'e says, 'oldin' up 'is finger, or rather wot were left of it. "'Been cuttin' bread an' butter, Jackson?' says the 'ead warder, wot fancied 'isself as a wit. "'No I ain't,' says Jackson, a bit unpleasant like. (Bein' a Socialist, ye see, 'e 'adn't got much sense of humour.) 'It's that there microbe o' B24's,' 'e adds, 'and afore I go near 'im again I'll see myself and the 'ole bloomin' prison busted, I will.' "'Wot are yer talkin' about?' says the 'ead warder. "Then Jackson tells 'im all about 'ow it 'appened jest slippin' in a little bit 'ere and there to make it more impressive-like. 'Talk about tigers,' 'e finishes, 'why 'e come at me like a ragin' cyclone. If I 'adn't kep' cool an' landed 'im one on the snout I b'lieve 'e'd 'a' tore my windpipe out.' "'An' wot were B24 a-doin' while the melly were in progress?' said the 'ead warder, takin' out 'is notebook." "While the wot were in progress?" interrupted Bill and Sam at the same moment. Mr. Parbury looked at them pityingly. "That's Eytalion for a scrap," he explained. "'Doin' of?' repeated Jackson, 'why, 'e were a-cheerin' of 'im on. I tells you they're 'and in glove together--that's wot they are--'and in glove. If ye don't believe me come an' 'ave a look at 'em yourself.' "'Not me,' says the 'ead warder. 'I don't want no tops bitten orf my fingers. This 'ere's a case for the guv'nor, this is.'