"Yes. I do want you as an authority, or rather I want your authority
to stop it--all of you."

"What about Abana and Pharpar, Padre--Harrison and Craye? They are Mr.
Prout's pets," said McTurk a little bitterly. "We aren't even
sub-prefects."

"I've considered that, but on the other hand, since most bullying is
mere thoughtlessness--"

"Not one little bit of it, Padre," said McTurk. "Bullies like
bullyin'. They mean it. They think it up in lesson and practise it in
the quarters."

"Never mind. If the thing goes up to the prefects it may make another
house-row. You've had one already. Don't laugh. Listen to me. I ask
you--my own Tenth Legion--to take the thing up quietly. I want little
Clewer made to look fairly clean and decent--"

"Blowed if _I_ wash him!" whispered Stalky.

"Decent and self-respecting. As for the other boy, whoever he is, you
can use your influence"--a purely secular light flickered in the
chaplain's eye--"in any way you please to--to dissuade him. That's
all. I'll leave it to you. Good-night, _mes_enfants_."

"Well, what are we goin' to do?" Number Five stared at each other.

"Young Clewer would give his eyes for a place to be quiet in. _I_ know
that," said Beetle. "If we made him a study-fag, eh?"