Now was there or was there not a distinct flavor of beer as they shot
past Mr. Prout?

He was unlucky in that his conscience as a house-master impelled him
to consult his associates. Had he taken his pipe and his troubles to
little Hartopp's rooms he would, perhaps, have been saved confusion,
for Hartopp believed in boys, and knew something about them. His fate
led him to King, a fellow house-master, no friend of his, but a
zealous hater of Stalky & Co.

"Ah-haa!" said King, rubbing his hands when the tale was told.
"Curious! Now _my_ house never dream of doing these things."

"But you see I've no proof, exactly."

"Proof? With the egregious Beetle! As if one wanted it! I suppose it
is not impossible for the Sergeant to supply it? Foxy is considered
at least a match for any evasive boy in my house. Of course they were
smoking and drinking somewhere. That type of boy always does. They
think it manly."

"But they've no following in the school, and they are distinctly--er
brutal to their juniors," said Prout, who had from a distance seen
Beetle return, with interest, his butterfly-net to a tearful fag.

"Ah! They consider themselves superior to ordinary delights.
Self-sufficient little animals! There's something in McTurk's
Hibernian sneer that would make me a little annoyed. And they are so
careful to avoid all overt acts, too. It's sheer calculated
insolence. I am strongly opposed, as you know, to interfering with