Greek numerals. Never does anything else. You'll be as safe as
anything if you do them. Buck up, I'll help."

They accordingly sat down there and then. By three o'clock an imposing
array of sheets of foolscap covered with badly-written Greek lay on
the study table.

"That ought to be enough," said Linton, laying down his pen. "He can't
set you more than we've done, I should think."

"Rummy how alike our writing looks," said Dunstable, collecting the
sheets and examining them. "You can hardly tell which is which even
when you know. Well, there goes three. My watch is slow, as it always
is. I'll go and get that note."

Two minutes later he returned, full of abusive references to Mr. Day.
The crafty pedagogue appeared to have foreseen Dunstable's attempt to
circumvent him by doing the Greek numerals on the chance of his
setting them. The imposition he had set in his note was ten pages of
irregular verbs, and they were to be shown up in his study before five
o'clock. Linton's programme for the afternoon was out of the question
now. But he loyally gave up any other plans which he might have formed
in order to help Dunstable with his irregular verbs. Dunstable was too
disgusted with fate to be properly grateful.

"And the worst of it is," he said, as they adjourned for tea at
half-past four, having deposited the verbs on Mr. Day's table, "that
all those numerals will be wasted now."

"I should keep them, though," said Linton. "They may come in useful.