"You aren't going back to the house, are you?" said McTurk. The
victims desired nothing better. "You've simply no conception of the
reek up there. Of course, frowzin' as you do, you wouldn't notice it;
but, after this nice wash and the clean, fresh air, even you'd be
upset. 'Much better camp on the Burrows. We'll get you some straw.
Shall we'?" The house hurried in to the tune of "John Brown's body,"
sung by loving schoolmates, and barricaded themselves in their
form-room. Straightway Stalky chalked a large cross, with "Lord, have
mercy upon us," on the door, and left King to find it.

The wind shifted that night and wafted a carrion-reek into Macrea's
dormitories; so that boys in nightgowns pounded on the locked door
between the houses, entreating King's to wash. Number Five study went
to second lesson with not more than half a pound of camphor apiece in
their clothing; and King, too wary to ask for explanations, gibbered
a while and hurled them forth. So Beetle finished yet another poem at
peace in the study.

"They're usin' carbolic now. Malpas told me," said Stalky. "King
thinks it's the drains."

"She'll need a lot o' carbolic," said McTurk. "No harm tryin', I
suppose. It keeps King out of mischief."

"I swear I thought he was goin' to kill me when I sniffed just now. He
didn't mind Burton major sniffin' at me the other day, though. He
never stopped Alexander howlin' 'Stinker!' into our form-room
before--before we doctored 'em. He just grinned," said Stalky. "What
was he frothing over you for, Beetle?"