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The Pothunters by P. G. (Pelham Grenville) Wodehouse
page 42 of 179 (23%)
'He went on reading. After a bit I said I hoped he was fairly
comfortable. He said he was. Conversation languished again. I made
another shot. "Looking for anybody?" I said. "No," he said, "are you?"
"No." "Then why the dickens should I be?" he said. I didn't quite
follow his argument. In fact, I don't even now. "Look here," I said,
"tell me one thing. Have you or have you not bought this place? If you
have, all right. If you haven't, I'm going to sling you out, and jolly
soon, too." He looked at me in his superior sort of way, and observed
without blenching that he was head of the House.'

'Just another of Ward's jars,' said Dallas. 'Knowing that Vaughan was
keen on being head of the House he actually went to the Old Man and
persuaded him that it would be better to bring in some day boy who was
a School-prefect than let Vaughan boss the show. What do you think of
that?'

'Pretty low,' said the Babe.

'Said I was thoughtless and headstrong,' cut in Vaughan, spearing a
sausage as if it were Mr Ward's body. 'Muffins up, Dallas, old man.
When the sausages are done to a turn. "Thoughtless and headstrong."
Those were his very words.'

'Can't you imagine the old beast?' said Dallas, pathetically, 'Can't
you see him getting round the Old Man? A capital lad at heart, I am
sure, distinctly a capital lad, but thoughtless and headstrong, far too
thoughtless for a position so important as that of head of my House.
The abandoned old wreck!'

Tea put an end for the moment to conversation, but when the last
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