that he hastened, to loose the mirth that was destroying him. He had
not drawn breath for a first whoop of triumph when two hands choked
him dumb.

"Go to the dormitory and get me my things. Bring 'em to Number Five
lavatory. I'm still in tights," hissed Stalky, sitting on his head.
"Don't run. Walk."

But Beetle staggered into the form-room next door, and delegated his
duty to the yet unenlightened McTurk, with an hysterical precis of
the campaign thus far. So it was McTurk, of the wooden visage, who
brought the clothes from the dormitory while Beetle panted on a form.
Then the three buried themselves in Number Five lavatory, turned on
all the taps, filled the place with steam, and dropped weeping into
the baths, where they pieced out the war.

"_Moi_! _Je_! _Ich_! _Ego_!" gasped Stalky. "I waited till I couldn't
hear myself think, while you played the drum! Hid in the
coal-locker--and tweaked Rabbits-Eggs--and Rabbits-Eggs rocked King.
Wasn't it beautiful? Did you hear the glass?"

"Why, he--he--he," shrieked McTurk, one trembling finger pointed at
Beetle.

"Why, I--I--I was through it all," Beetle howled; "in his study, being
jawed."

"Oh, my soul!" said Stalky with a yell, disappearing under water.

"The--the glass was nothing. Manders minor's head's cut open.