"Five seconds gone!" bawled Masham, laughing.

"Please, don't be so foolish," I cried, getting alarmed.

"Hawkesbury, please stop them!" "Ten seconds gone, eleven, twelve!" "I tell you, I--" "Seventeen, eighteen," said Masham, rising and reaching out his arm for the bottle.
There was no help for it.

I seized my glass and gulped down its contents.

It made me cough and sputter, and my eyes watered, greatly to the amusement of my persecutors.
"What is it ?" they all cried.
I could scarcely speak for anger and the burning in my throat.
"It's a shame!" I began.
"That's not what it is," cried Whipcord.