he chicken was kept secret for the
present, and the next three days passed uneventfully, except to Jack,
whose Sunday at home was no small event, though a weekly one. Lessons
were just ended on the following Wednesday morning, and Cadbury was
doing monitor's work in the school-room when Grey sidled up to him.

"Hullo, Dapple-grey, you're the culprit I was wanting. These are your
things, aren't they?"

"Yes; but I was just going to put them away. You mustn't mark me!"

"You've not forgotten the little call you have to pay this afternoon?"

"I wanted to speak to you about that, Cadbury. It's very difficult for
me to do it, you know. What do you say--supposing we leave that chicken
alone? I don't want to go after it. And it's my chicken, you know."

"Half of it," replied Cadbury. "You can leave your half behind if you
like, but I want mine. I earned it by getting you out of your scrape.
Look here, Grey! Here are five--six articles belonging to you. I put six
marks against your name, and that's half-way to an imp., unless you do
your duty towards that chicken."

"Oh, dash it! Well, what have I to do?"

"You can't carve, can you?"

"Don't know. 'Spect so."

"No, I'm sure you can't. It's an art. I can. So that settles it. I must
have the fowl first this evening; cut it up, and send on your portion to
your bedroom. Let the March Hare fetch it. He's a noiseless customer."

"That won't do," said Grey. "Hallett wouldn't allow it. Since that last
pillow-fight, when his bolster knocked a can over and got soaked, he's
been awfully down on larks. He's sworn to lick the first boy who opens
the door after the gas is out--and he can do it, you know."

"Very well, I'll send it _via_ the window," said Cadbury coolly. "All
the same, I don't think you'll find Hallett's above eating it. When you
hear the chicken knock, open the window and let it in--that's all."

"Oh, yes, it sounds easy enough to you! But supposing I get the chicken,
how am I to bring it into the house without being seen? Suppose I meet
West in the hall, or Miss Turner on the stairs, or the housemaid in your
bedroom? I defy you to hide a roast fowl about you, and I don't care for
getting into rows, if you do."

"My dear Grey, we know you don't," said Cadbury. "You're an adept at
escaping them. But you needn't fear for this; I have a way out of the
hole. I'll drop a line from our window. You come round beneath it on
your return, before you enter the house, and