Fisher was down on the Green among the first, in slippers and ulster.
Five shivering youngsters were standing inside the gate, with dripping garments and chattering teeth and white faces--D'Arcy, Lickford, Ramshaw, Cottle, and Cash--but no Fisher minor.
"Where's my minor ?" asked the senior.
"What! hasn't he turned up ?" said D'Arcy.

"Haven't Wally and Percy and Ashby turned up?
We got lost on Hawk's Pike.

I'm awfully hungry, I say." "No one's turned up.

Do you mean to say he's out on the hill a night like this ?" "He was behind--he and Ashby.

He was a lame duck, you know.