Well, don't make too big a row in
hunting for your copper, and then I'll not chuck you out."
Grim murmured something disparaging Todd's authority for chucking out,
but Gus languidly sidled off to his own particular bench, where, out of
sight of Grim, he prepared to do an afternoon's quiet work.
Meanwhile Grim's particular cronies, Wilson, Rogers, Sharpe, Poulett,
and young Bourne, arrayed in all the glory of mud-stained footer-togs,
after vainly waiting outside Biffen's, were seeking high and low for the
copper-hunting chemist, who, for many reasons, had kept his afternoon's
plan very dark. He knew only too well that his beloved chums would not
hear of an afternoon's work, and would head him off either to footer or
a run round the Bender. Therefore, immediately after dinner, he had made
an unostentatious exit, and reached the laboratory in safety.
"Where _is_ Grimmy?" said Sharpe.
"Dunno," said Wilson.
"Did he know of our six-a-side against Merishall's lot?"
"Rather! Said he hoped we'd win."
"_We!_ Why, is he backing out, then?"
"Well, we've waited for him half an hour, and there's no sign of him
yet--look's like it."
"What is up with him, I wonder?" said Poulett.
"Seemed rather mysterious this morning--rather stand-offish to my idea.
Perhaps, though, he's only guzzling buns or swilling coffee somewhere.
Let's see."
The quintette thereupon spread themselves out, but every shop was drawn
blank.
"Rum!" said Rogers.
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