"There'll be another if we don't start off
for chapel soon. It's a quarter to."
There was a general move. Mike was the last to leave the room. As he
was going, Jellicoe stopped him. Jellicoe was staying in that Sunday,
owing to his ankle.
"I say," said Jellicoe, "I just wanted to thank you again about
that----"
"Oh, that's all right."
"No, but it really was awfully decent of you. You might have got into
a frightful row. Were you nearly caught?"
"Jolly nearly."
"It _was_ you who rang the bell, wasn't it?"
"Yes, it was. But for goodness sake don't go gassing about it, or
somebody will get to hear who oughtn't to, and I shall be sacked."
"All right. But, I say, you _are_ a chap!"
"What's the matter now?"
"I mean about Sammy, you know. It's a jolly good score off old
Downing. He'll be frightfully sick."
"Sammy!" cried Mike. "My good man, you don't think I did that, do you?
What absolute rot! I never touched the poor brute."
"Oh, all right," said Jellicoe. "But I wasn't going to tell any one,
of course."
"What do you mean?"
"You _are_ a chap!" giggled Jellicoe.
Mike walked to chapel rather thoughtfully.
CHAPTER XLVII
MR. DOWNING ON THE SCENT
There was just one moment, the moment in which, on going down to the
junior day-room of his house to quell an unseemly disturbance, he was
boisterously greeted by a vermilion bull terrier, when Mr.
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