’That’s what you ought to be.  You’ve gone Berserk and pretty soon you’ll go to sleep.  But you’ll probably be liable to fits of it all your life,’ Beetle concluded. ‘’Shouldn’t wonder if you murdered some one some day.’

‘Shut up—­you and your Berserks!’ said Stalky.  ’Go to Mullins now and get it over, Pater.’

‘I call it filthy unjust of the Head,’ said Vernon.  ’Anyhow, you’ve given me my lickin’, old man.  I hope Pot’ll give you yours.’

‘I’m awfully sorry—­awfully sorry,’ was Winton’s last word.

It was the custom in that consulship to deal with games’ defaulters between five o’clock call-over and tea.  Mullins, who was old enough to pity, did not believe in letting boys wait through the night till the chill of the next morning for their punishments.  He was finishing off the last of the small fry and their excuses when Winton arrived.

’But, please, Mullins’—­this was Babcock tertius, a dear little twelve-year-old mother’s darling—­’I had an awful hack on the knee.  I’ve been to the Matron about it and she gave me some iodine.  I’ve been rubbing it in all day.  I thought that would be an excuse off.’

‘Let’s have a look at it,’ said the impassive Mullins.  ’That’s a shin-bruise—­about a week old.  Touch your toes.  I’ll give you the iodine.’

Babcock yelled loudly as he had many times before.  The face of Jevons, aged eleven, a new boy that dark wet term, low in the House, low in the Lower School, and lowest of all in his home-sick little mind turned white at the horror of the sight.  They could hear his working lips part stickily as Babcock wailed his way out of hearing.

‘Hullo, Jevons!  What brings you here?’ said Mullins.

‘Pl-ease, sir, I went for a walk with Babcock tertius.’

’Did you?  Then I bet you went to the tuck-shop—­and you paid, didn’t you?’

A nod.  Jevons was too terrified to speak.

’Of course, and I bet Babcock told you that old Pot ’ud let you off because it was the first time.’

Another nod with a ghost of a smile in it.

‘All right.’  Mullins picked Jevons up before he could guess what was coming, laid him on the table with one hand, with the other gave him three emphatic spanks, then held him high in air.

’Now you tell Babcock tertius that he’s got you a licking from me, and see you jolly well pay it back to him.  And when you’re prefect of games don’t you let any one shirk his footer without a written excuse.  Where d’you play in your game?’

‘Forward, sir.’

’You can do better than that.  I’ve seen you run like a young buck-rabbit.  Ask Dickson from me to try you as three-quarter next game, will you?  Cut along.’

Jevons left, warm for the first time that day, enormously set up in his own esteem, and very hot against the deceitful Babcock.

Mullins turned to Winton.  ‘Your name’s on the list, Pater.’  Winton nodded.