"Well, if you're in a sweat to find out that, you can go down to the
new cottages they're building for the coastguard."

"My Hat! I will." He felt in his pockets. "Give me tuppence, some
one."

"Rot! Stay here, and don't mess about in the sun."

"Gi' me tuppence."

"I say, Beetle, you aren't stuffy about anything, are you?" said
McTurk, handing over the coppers. His tone was serious, for though
Stalky often, and McTurk occasionally, manoeuvred on his own account,
Beetle had never been known to do so in all the history of the
confederacy.

"No, I'm not. I'm thinking."

"Well, we'll come, too," said Stalky, with a general's suspicion of
his aides.

"Don't want you."

"Oh, leave him alone. He's been taken worse with a poem," said McTurk.
"He'll go burbling down to the Pebbleridge and spit it all up in the
study when he comes back."

"Then why did he want the tuppence, Turkey? He's gettin' too beastly
independent. Hi! There's a bunny. No, it ain't. It's a cat, by Jove!
You plug first."