"They've got us under suspicion," said Stalky. "Hoophats _is_ so suspicious somehow;and Foxy always makes every stalk he does a sort of--sort of--""Scalp," said Beetle. "Foxy's a giddy Chingangook.""Poor Foxy," said Stalky. "He's goin' to catch us one of these days. 'Said to me in the Gym last night, 'I've got my eye on you, Mister Corkran. I'm only warning you for your good.' Then I said: 'Well, you jolly well take it off again, or you'll get into trouble. I'm only warnin' you for your good.' Foxy was wrath.""Yes, but it's only fair sport for Foxy," said Beetle. "It's Hefflelinga that has the evil mind. 'Shouldn't wonder if he thought we got tight.""I never got squiffy but once--that was in the holidays," said Stalky, reflectively;"an' it made me horrid sick. 'Pon my sacred Sam, though, it's enough to drive a man to drink, havin' an animal like Hoof for house-master.""If we attended the matches an' yelled, 'Well hit, sir,' an' stood on one leg an'
grinned every time Heffy said, 'So ho, my sons. Is it thus?' an' said, 'Yes, sir,'
an' 'No, sir,' an' 'O, sir,' an' 'Please, sir,' like a lot o' filthy fa-ags, Heffy 'ud think no end of us," said McTurk with a sneer.
"Too late to begin that."
"It's all right. The Hefflelinga means well. _But_ he is an ass. _And_ we show him that we think he's an ass. An' _so_ Heffy don't love us. 'Told me last night after prayers that he was _in_loco_parentis_," Beetle grunted.
"The deuce he did!" cried Stalky. "That means he's maturin' something unusual dam'
mean. Last time he told me that he gave me three hundred lines for dancin' the cachuca in Number Ten dormitory. _Loco_parentis_, by gum! But what's the odds as long as you're 'appy? _We're_ all right."They were, and their very rightness puzzled Prout, King, and the Sergeant. Boys with bad consciences show it. They slink out past the Fives Court in haste, and smile nervously when questioned. They return, disordered, in bare time to save a call-over. They nod and wink and giggle one to the other, scattering at the approach of a master. But Stalky and his allies had long out-lived these manifestations of youth. They strolled forth unconcernedly, and returned in excellent shape after a light refreshment of strawberries and cream at the Lodge.
The Lodge-keeper had been promoted to keeper, _vice_ the murderous fisherman, and his wife made much of the boys. The man, too, gave them a squirrel, which they presented to the Natural History Society; thereby checkmating little Hartopp, who wished to know what they were doing for Science. Foxy faithfully worked some deep Devon lanes behind a lonely cross-roads inn; and it was curious that Prout and King, members of Common-room seldom friendly, walked together in the same direction--that is to say, northeast.
Now, the Pleasant Isle of Aves lay due southwest. "They're deep--day-vilish deep,"said Stalky. "Why are they drawin' those covers?""Me," said Beetle sweetly. "I asked Foxy if he had ever tasted the beer there. That was enough for Foxy, and it cheered him up a little. He and Heffy were sniffin'
round our old hut so long I thought they'd like a change.""Well, it can't last forever," said Stalky. "Heffy's bankin' up like a thunder-cloud, an' King goes rubbin' his beastly hands, an' grinnin' like a hyena.
It's shockin' demoralizin' for King. He'll burst some day."That day came a little sooner than they expected--came when the Sergeant, whose duty it was to collect defaulters, did not attend an afternoon call-over.
"Tired of pubs, eh? He's gone up to the top of the bill with his binoculars to spot us," said Stalky. "Wonder he didn't think of that before. Did you see old Heffy cock his eye at us when we answered our names? Heffy's in it, too. _Ti-ra-la-la-i-tu_! Igloat! Hear me! Come on!"
"Aves?" said Beetle.
"Of course, but I'm not smokin' _aujourd'hui_. _Parceque_je_ jolly well _pense_ that we'll be _suivi_. We'll go along the cliffs, slow, an' give Foxy lots of time to parallel us up above."They strolled towards the swimming-baths, and presently overtook King. "Oh, don't let _me_ interrupt you," he said. "Engaged in scientific pursuits, of course? Itrust you will enjoy yourselves, my young friends.""You see!" said Stalky, when they were out of ear-shot. "He _can't_ keep a secret.
He's followin' to cut off our line of retreat. He'll wait at the baths till Heffy comes along. They've tried every blessed place except along the cliffs, and now they think they've bottled us. No need to hurry."They walked leisurely over the combes till they reached the line of notice-boards.
"Listen a shake. Foxy's up wind comin' down hill like beans. When you hear him move in the bushes, go straight across to Aves. They want to catch us _flagrante_delicto_."They dived into the gorse at right angles to the tunnel, openly crossing the grass, and lay still in Aves.
"What did I tell you?" Stalky carefully put away the pipes and tobacco. The Sergeant, out of breath, was leaning against the fence, raking the furze with his binoculars, but he might as well have tried to see through a sand-bag. Anon, Prout and King appeared behind him. They conferred.
"Aha! Foxy don't like the notice-boards, and he don't like the prickles either. Now we'll cut up the tunnel and go to the Lodge. Hullo! They've sent Foxy into cover."The Sergeant was waist-deep in crackling, swaying furze, his ears filled with the noise of his own progress. The boys reached the shelter of the wood and looked down through a belt of hollies.
"Hellish noise!" said Stalky, critically. "'Don't think Colonel Dabney will like it.
I move we go into the Lodge and get something to eat. We might as well see the fun out."Suddenly the keeper passed them at a trot. "Who'm they to combe-bottom for Lard's sake? Master'll be crazy," he said.
"Poachers simly," Stalky replied in the broad Devon that was the boy's _langue_de_guerre_.
