'Three miles.'

'The porter said four.'

'It may be four. I never measured it.'

'Well, how the dickens do you think I'm going to walk four miles with
luggage? I wish you wouldn't rot.'

And before Gethryn could quite realize that he, the head of
Leicester's, the second-best bowler in the School, and the best centre
three-quarter the School had had for four seasons, had been requested
in a peremptory manner by a youth of fourteen, a mere kid, not to rot,
the offender was talking to a cabman out of the reach of retaliation.
Gethryn became more convinced every minute that this was no ordinary
kid.

'This man says,' observed Farnie, returning to Gethryn, 'that he'll
drive me up to the College for seven bob. As it's a short four miles,
and I've only got two boxes, it seems to me that he's doing himself
fairly well. What do you think?'

'Nobody ever gives more than four bob,' said Gethryn.

'I told you so,' said Farnie to the cabman. 'You are a bally swindler,'
he added admiringly.

'Look 'ere,' began the cabman, in a pained voice.

'Oh, dry up,' said Farnie. 'Want a lift, Gethryn?'