Part 65

The eight or nine seniors, their faces very set and sober, were ranged in chairs round Carson’s severely Philistine study. Tulke was not popular among them, and a few who had had experience of Stalky and Company doubted that he might, perhaps, have made an ass of himself. But the dignity of the Sixth was to be upheld. So Carson began hurriedly: “Look here, you chaps, I’ve--we’ve sent for you to tell you you’re a good deal too cheeky to the Sixth--have been for some time--and--and we’ve stood about as much as we’re goin’ to, and it seems you’ve been cursin’ and swearin’ at Tulke on the Bideford road this afternoon, and we’re goin’ to show you you can’t do it. That’s all.”

“Well, that’s awfully good of you,” said Stalky, “but we happen to have a few rights of our own, too. You can’t, just because you happen to be made prefects, haul up seniors and jaw ’em on spec., like a house-master. We aren’t fags, Carson. This kind of thing may do for Davies Tertius, but it won’t do for us.”

“It’s only old Prout’s lunacy that we weren’t prefects long ago. You know that,” said McTurk. “You haven’t any tact.”

“Hold on,” said Beetle. “A prefects’ meetin’ has to be reported to the Head. I want to know if the Head backs Tulke in this business?”

“Well--well, it isn’t exactly a prefects’ meeting,” said Carson. “We only called you in to warn you.”

“But all the prefects are here,” Beetle insisted. “Where’s the difference?”

“My Gum!” said Stalky. “Do you mean to say you’ve just called us in for a jaw--after comin’ to us before the whole school at tea an’ givin’ ’em the impression it was a prefects’ meeting? ’Pon my Sam, Carson, you’ll get into trouble, you will.”

“Hole-an’-corner business--hole-an’-corner business,” said McTurk, wagging his head. “Beastly suspicious.”

The Sixth looked at each other uneasily. Tulke had called three prefects’ meetings in two terms, till the Head had informed the Sixth that they were expected to maintain discipline without the recurrent menace of his authority. Now, it seemed that they had made a blunder at the outset, but any right-minded boy would have sunk the legality and been properly impressed by the Court. Beetle’s protest was distinct “cheek.”

“Well, you chaps deserve a lickin’,” cried one Naughten incautiously. Then was Beetle filled with a noble inspiration.

“For interferin’ with Tulke’s amours, eh?” Tulke turned a rich sloe color. “Oh, no, you don’t!” Beetle went on. “You’ve had your innings. We’ve been sent up for cursing and swearing at you, and we’re goin’ to be let off with a warning! Are we? Now then, you’re going to catch it.”

“I--I--I--” Tulke began. “Don’t let that young devil start jawing.”

“If you’ve anything to say you must say it decently,’’ said Carson.

“Decently? I will. Now look here. When we went into Bideford we met this ornament of the Sixth--is that decent enough?--hanging about on the road with a nasty look in his eye. We didn’t know then why he was so anxious to stop us, but at five minutes to four, when we were in Yeo’s shop, we saw Tulke in broad daylight, with his house-cap on, kissin’ an’ huggin’ a woman on the pavement. Is that decent enough for you?”

“I didn’t--I wasn’t.”

“We saw you!” said Beetle. “And now--I’ll be decent, Carson--you sneak back with her kisses” (not for nothing had Beetle perused the later poets) “hot on your lips and call prefects’ meetings, which aren’t prefects’ meetings, to uphold the honor of the Sixth.” A new and heaven-cleft path opened before him that instant. “And how do we know,” he shouted--“how do we know how many of the Sixth are mixed up in this abominable affair?”

“Yes, that’s what we want to know,” said McTurk, with simple dignity.

“We meant to come to you about it quietly, Carson, but you would have the meeting,” said Stalky sympathetically.

The Sixth were too taken aback to reply. So, carefully modelling his rhetoric on King, Beetle followed up the attack, surpassing and surprising himself, “It--it isn’t so much the cynical immorality of the biznai, as the blatant indecency of it, that’s so awful. As far as we can see, it’s impossible for us to go into Bideford without runnin’ up against some prefect’s unwholesome amours. There’s nothing to snigger over, Naughten. I don’t pretend to know much about these things--but it seems to me a chap must be pretty far dead in sin” (that was a quotation from the school chaplain) “when he takes to embracing his paramours” (that was Hakluyt) “before all the city” (a reminiscence of Milton). “He might at least have the decency--you’re authorities on decency, I believe--to wait till dark. But he didn’t. You didn’t! Oh, Tulke. You--you incontinent little animal!”

“Here, shut up a minute. What’s all this about, Tulke?” said Carson.

“I--look here. I’m awfully sorry. I never thought Beetle would take this line.”

“Because--you’ve--no decency--you--thought--I hadn’t,” cried Beetle all in one breath.

“Tried to cover it all up with a conspiracy, did you?” said Stalky.

“Direct insult to all three of us,” said McTurk. “A most filthy mind you have, Tulke.”

“I’ll shove you fellows outside the door if you go on like this,” said Carson angrily.

“That proves it’s a conspiracy,” said Stalky, with the air of a virgin martyr.

“I--I was goin’ along the street--I swear I was,” cried Tulke, “and--and I’m awfully sorry about it--a woman came up and kissed me. I swear I didn’t kiss her.”

There was a pause, filled by Stalky’s long, liquid whistle of contempt, amazement, and derision.