Stalky returned his rifle to the rack in dead silence, and fell out. His example was followed by Hogan and Ansell.

Perowne hesitated. `Look here, oughtn't we--?' he began.

`I'll get it out of the locker in a minute,' said the Sergeant, his back turned. `Then we can--'

`Come on!' shouted Stalky. `What the devil are you waiting for? Dismiss! Break off.'

`Why--what the--where the--?'

The rattle of Sniders, slammed into the rack, drowned his voice, as boy after boy fell out.

`I--I don't know that I shan't have to report this to the Head,' he stammered.

`Report, then, and be damned to you,' cried Stalky, white to the lips, and ran out.

`Rummy thing!' said Beetle to M`Turk. `I was in the study, doin' a simply lovely poem about the Jelly-bellied Flag-flapper, an' Stalky came in, an' I said "Hullo!" an' he cursed me like a bargee, and then he began to blub like anything. Shoved his head on the table and howled. Hadn't we better do something?'

M`Turk was troubled. `P'raps he's smashed himself up somehow.'

They found him, with very bright eyes, whistling between his teeth.

`Did I take you in, Beetle? I thought I would. Wasn't it a good draw? Didn't you think I was blubbin'? Didn't I do it well? Oh, you fat old ass!' And he began to pull Beetle's ears and cheeks, in the fashion that was called `milking.'

`I knew you were blubbin',' Beetle replied composedly. `Why aren't you at drill?'

`Drill! What drill?'

`Don't try to be a clever fool. Drill in the Gym.'

`'Cause there isn't any. The volunteer cadet-corps is broke up--disbanded--dead--putrid--corrupt--stinkin'. An' if you look at me like that, Beetle, I'll slay you to. . . . Oh yes, an' I'm goin' to be reported to the Head for swearin'.'