Beetle. "It's a gloat for King's house. Turkey's quite right."

"Well, won't Stalky, then?"

But Stalky puffed out his cheeks and squinted down his nose in the
style of Panurge, and all he said was, "Oh, you abject burblers!"

"You're three beastly scabs!" was the instant retort of the democracy,
and they went out amid execrations.

"This is piffling," said McTurk. "Let's get our sallies, and go and
shoot bunnies."

Three saloon-pistols, with a supply of bulleted breech-caps, were
stored in Stalky's trunk, and this trunk was in their dormitory, and
their dormitory was a three-bed attic one, opening out of a ten-bed
establishment, which, in turn, communicated with the great range of
dormitories that ran practically from one end of the College to the
other. Macrea's house lay next to Prout's, King's next to Macrea's,
and Hartopp's beyond that again. Carefully locked doors divided house
from house, but each house, in its internal arrangements--the College
had originally been a terrace of twelve large houses--was a replica
of the next; one straight roof covering all.

They found Stalky's bed drawn out from the wall to the left of the
dormer window, and the latter end of Richards protruding from a
two-foot-square cupboard in the wall.

"What's all this? I've never noticed it before. What are you tryin' to
do, Fatty?"