."

"Out of bounds. Bounds beastly strict these days, too. Besides, we shall
cat." Beetle sniffed the cheroot critically. "It's a regular Pomposo
Stinkadore."

"You can; I shan't. What d'you say, Turkey?"

"Oh, may's well, I s'pose."

"Chuck on your cap, then. It's two to one. Beetle, out you come!"

They saw a group of boys by the notice-board in the corridor; little
Foxy, the school sergeant, among them.

"More bounds, I expect," said Stalky. "Hullo, Foxibus, who are you in
mournin' for?" There was a broad band of crape round Foxy's arm.

"He was in my old regiment," said Foxy, jerking his head towards the
notices, where a newspaper cutting was thumb-tacked between call-over
lists.

"By gum!" quoth Stalky, uncovering as he read. "It's old
Duncan--Fat-Sow Duncan--killed on duty at something or other Kotal.
'_Rallyin' his men with conspicuous gallantry._' He would, of course.
'_The body was recovered_.' That's all right. They cut 'em up sometimes,
don't they, Foxy?"

"Horrid," said the sergeant briefly.

"Poor old Fat-Sow! I was a fag when he left. How many does that make to
us, Foxy?"

"Mr. Duncan, he is the ninth. He come here when he was no bigger
than little Grey tertius. My old regiment, too. Yiss, nine to us, Mr.
Corkran, up to date."

The boys went out into the wet, walking swiftly.

"Wonder how it feels--to be shot and all that," said Stalky, as they
splashed down a lane. "Where did it happen, Beetle?"

"Oh, out in India somewhere. We're always rowin' there. But look here,
Stalky, what _is_ the good o' sittin' under a hedge an' cattin'? It's
be-eastly cold. It's be-eastly wet, and we'll be collared as sure as a
gun."

"Shut up! Did you ever know your Uncle Stalky get you into a mess yet?"
Like many other leaders, Stalky did not dwell on past defeats. They
pushed through a dripping hedge, landed among water-logged clods, and
sat down on a rust-coated harrow. The cheroot burned with sputterings
of saltpetre. They smoked it gingerly, each passing to the other between
dosed forefinger and thumb.

"Good job we hadn't one apiece, ain't it?" said Stalky, shivering
through set teeth. To prove his words he immediately laid all before
them, and they followed his example...

"I told you," moaned Beetle, sweating clammy drops. "Oh, Stalky, you are
a fool!"

"_Je cat_, _tu cat_, _il cat_. _Nous cattons_!" McTurk handed up his
contribution and lay hopelessly on the cold iron.

"Something's wrong wit