"Fillin' basins, Muster Corkran." Richards's voice was hollow and
muffled. "They've been savin' me trouble. Yiss."

"'Looks like it," said McTurk. "Hi! You'll stick if you don't take
care."

Richards backed puffing.

"I can't rache un. Yiss, 'tess a turncock, Muster McTurk. They've took
an' runned all the watter-pipes a storey higher in the houses--runned
'em all along under the 'ang of the heaves, like. Runned 'em in last
holidays. _I_ can't rache the turncock."

"Let me try," said Stalky, diving into the aperture.

"Slip 'ee to the left, then, Muster Corkran. Slip 'ee to the left, an'
feel in the dark."

To the left Stalky wriggled, and saw a long line of lead pipe
disappearing up a triangular tunnel, whose roof was the rafters and
boarding of the college roof, whose floor was sharp-edged joists, and
whose side was the rough studding of the lath and plaster wall under
the dormer.

"Rummy show. How far does it go?"

"Right along, Muster Corkran--right along from end to end. Her runs
under the 'ang of the heaves. Have 'ee rached the stopcock yet? Mr.
King got un put in to save us carryin' watter from down-stairs to