Besides, you might
not have time to consult anybody. Were you never compelled to settle
promptly a case of this kind?'
'I remember once at school, when the mathematical master was out of
the class-room, a boy named Carpenter ran up to the blackboard and
wrote "Carrots" on it. That was the master's nickname, for he was
red-haired. Scarcely was the word finished, when Carpenter heard him
coming along the passage. There was just time partially to rub out
some of the big letters, but CAR remained, and Carpenter was standing
at the board when "Carrots" came in. He was an excitable man, and he
knew very well what the boys called him.
'"What have you been writing on the board, sir?"
'"Carpenter, sir."
'The master examined the board. The upper half of the second R was
plainly perceptible, but it might possibly have been a P. He turned
round, looked steadily at Carpenter for a moment, and then looked at
us. Carpenter was no favourite, but not a soul spoke.
'"Go to your place, sir."
'Carpenter went to his place, the letters were erased and the lesson
was resumed. I was greatly perplexed; I had acquiesced in a cowardly
falsehood. Carrots was a great friend of mine, and I could not bear
to feel that he was humbugged, so when we were outside I went up to
Carpenter and told him he was an infernal sneak, and we had a
desperate fight, and I licked him, and blacked both his eyes.
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