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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 42862 ***
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 42862-h.htm or 42862-h.zip:
+      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/42862/42862-h/42862-h.htm)
+      or
+      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/42862/42862-h.zip)
+
+
+      Images of the original pages are available through
+      Internet Archive. See
+      https://archive.org/details/kingofranleighsc00breriala
+
+
+
+
+
+KING OF RANLEIGH
+
+A School Story
+
+by
+
+CAPTAIN F. S. BRERETON
+
+Author of "The Hero of Panama," "The Great Aeroplane," etc. etc.
+
+Illustrated by Ernest Prater
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+London
+S. W. Partridge & Co. Ltd.
+Old Bailey
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "CLIVE WAS DASHED BACKWARD WITH TERRIFIC VIOLENCE."]
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAPTER PAGE
+
+        I. THE CONSPIRATORS                     9
+
+       II. A BOOBY TRAP                        25
+
+      III. OFF TO RANLEIGH                     47
+
+       IV. SOME INTRODUCTIONS                  68
+
+        V. AN ULTIMATUM                        89
+
+       VI. CLIVE AND HIS FRIENDS TRIUMPHANT   111
+
+      VII. PLANS FOR AN OUTING                131
+
+     VIII. BREAKING BOUNDS                    153
+
+       IX. HONESTY'S THE BEST POLICY          173
+
+        X. THE RUINED TOWER                   194
+
+       XI. BERT MAKES A DISCOVERY             214
+
+      XII. ROUNDING UP THE BURGLARS           236
+
+     XIII. TRENDALL AND SOME OTHERS           259
+
+      XIV. THE STRENUOUS LIFE                 278
+
+       XV. STURTON'S POLICY IS VINDICATED     295
+
+      XVI. A GREAT DISTURBANCE                317
+
+     XVII. WHO IS THE SCOUNDREL?              340
+
+    XVIII. TRACKED DOWN                       358
+
+      XIX. A MONSTROUS ACCUSATION             374
+
+       XX. THE OLD FIRM HANGS TOGETHER        386
+
+      XXI. KING OF RANLEIGH                   403
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+    "Clive was dashed back with terrific
+    violence"                      _Frontispiece_
+
+    "His rage was almost appalling"            44
+
+    "'Look out, Susanne! I'm coming
+    in to help'"                              114
+
+    "Rawlings and Trendall were tossed
+    into a dense mass of bushes"              171
+
+    "'Forward!' ordered the sergeant
+    sternly. 'Rush 'em!'"                     254
+
+    "They were swept back by an appalling
+    gush of flame and smoke"                  328
+
+
+
+
+KING OF RANLEIGH
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE CONSPIRATORS
+
+
+Clive Darrell took from the pocket of a somewhat tattered coat, which
+bore many a stain and many a sign of hard wear, a filbert of good size,
+and having admired it in silence cracked the same by placing it upon a
+miniature anvil and giving it an adroit blow with a hammer. There was a
+precision about his movements and his action which spoke of practice.
+Clive was inordinately fond of nuts. His pockets bulged widely with
+them. As he ate he extracted a handful and presented some to each of his
+two comrades.
+
+"Here, have a go. I've heaps to draw from. Well?"
+
+"Well?" came from Hugh Seymour, a boy of his own age, just a little more
+than thirteen.
+
+But Bert Seymour, brother to Hugh, made no answer. Taller than the other
+two, a year older than his brother, he was a weedy, lanky youth,
+running to height rather than to breadth. He had tossed his cap on to
+the bench, so that he presented a tousled head of hair, above a face
+thin like his frame, but ruddy enough, with keen penetrating eyes which
+wore a curiously dreamy aspect for such a youngster. He was cogitating
+deeply. That was evident. But being the prince of good fellows, one who
+made a point of returning hospitality, he rummaged also in his pocket,
+producing a medley of articles to be found nowhere else save in the case
+of a schoolboy. A piece of tangled string, half a broken hinge, a knife,
+a second knife, somewhat bigger and distinctly rusty, a length of
+galvanised wire which made one wonder if he were a jack-of-all-trades,
+three handkerchiefs, each more terrible in appearance than the last, a
+number of air-gun slugs, a broken box for the same, now empty and
+severely damaged, and lastly, that for which he searched, a respectably
+sized piece of toffee in a wrapping of paper which was broken at one
+corner, and through which a half-dozen slugs had contrived to insert
+themselves and were now nicely imbedded in the sweetmeat.
+
+"Have some," he said laconically, handing over the packet to Clive.
+
+"Fair does then. Thanks."
+
+There was a strange taciturnity about these three lads. A silence and
+absence of words to which they were unaccustomed. But then, great events
+bring about equally great changes on occasion, and this day saw the trio
+face to face with a circumstance which baffled them, rendered them
+almost inarticulate, when they were accustomed to chatter, not seldom
+either in the lowest tones, and made of them a somewhat morose
+gathering.
+
+Clive split the toffee into three equal-sized pieces with the aid of a
+huge pair of metal shears, distributed two of the pieces, and thrust the
+third into his mouth.
+
+"Well?" he asked again, almost inarticulate since the sticky piece held
+his jaws so firmly. "We've got to move."
+
+"Or funk."
+
+"Or go on getting kicked."
+
+"Not if I know it!" ejaculated Clive, with a distinct effort, tearing
+his two rows of shining teeth asunder. "Who's he? We've been here ages,
+and he has the cheek to order us about."
+
+"Suppose he imagines we're going to fag for him," exclaimed Hugh,
+pulling his piece of toffee into the light of day as speech was
+otherwise almost out of the question. "He's a cad, this Rawlings. Vote
+we go for him."
+
+"How?"
+
+It was almost the first word which Bert had uttered. A keen glance shot
+from those dreamy eyes, searching the faces of his two comrades. He
+borrowed Clive's hammer and mechanically cracked the handful of nuts
+presented to him, preparing a store for consumption after the sweetmeat
+was finished. His dreamy eyes slowly travelled round his immediate
+surroundings, noting without enthusiasm the many tools and appliances
+which to boys as a general rule are the greatest of attractions. For
+Bert was no mechanic. At the precise period of which we write he was
+immersed in the intricacies of a calculation having for its object the
+purchase of sundry cricket stumps, bats and a ball with a sum raked
+together after noble self-sacrifice and still all too small for the
+purpose. He was, in fact, keen on cricket, and no dull hand at the game.
+Fair at the wicket, he could send down a ball at any time the varying
+length of which might be expected to baffle one who had not stood up to
+his bowling before. While at "point" he had already gathered laurels in
+the village matches, to which residence in the depths of the country
+confined him.
+
+Mechanics distinctly bored Bert. He had no use for hammers, other than
+that of cracking nuts, and even then he managed to hammer his fingers
+fairly often. And there he differed from his brother, just as the latter
+differed from him in appearance. For Hugh was a rosy-cheeked fellow,
+short and active and strong, quick and brisk in his actions, and with
+eyes which sparkled and could never be accused of presenting a dreamy
+appearance. Always ready for cricket or football or any other game that
+might be suggested, and shining particularly in the gymnasium, there
+were two hobbies which absorbed his every waking thought, and contrived
+to make him Clive Darrell's boon companion. For both loved the wild
+things they saw about them. They were the terror of gamekeepers in all
+directions, and there was not a copse nor a cover for miles around which
+they had not visited in their search for nests. And the winter season
+found them both for hours together in this workshop, once the happy
+rendezvous of Clive's father. What wonder if they were enchanted with
+the place? Imagine a large room, with steeply sloping roof, in which
+were a couple of lights. A range of shelves down one side, each carrying
+planes or cramps or wood tools of some description. While against the
+farther wall stood a cabinet, glazed at the top, and presenting a range
+of calipers, micrometers, drills, gauges, taps and dies and what-not;
+while nests of drawers beneath contained every tool necessary for both
+wood and metal turning. That was the triumph of this workshop. A
+five-inch lathe stood against the far wall, the floor beneath stained
+with many a splotch of oil. A belt ran to it from a shaft overhead which
+travelled the length of the shop and was there fitted with a wheel of
+large diameter to which a second belt was attached. This latter
+travelled to the fast and loose pulleys of a second shaft, and thence to
+a petrol engine, which puffed and rattled at the moment.
+
+Clive toyed with the lever which operated his pet lathe. As he and his
+comrades cogitated, he pushed the lever over, setting the shaft above in
+motion and the spindle of the lathe revolving. A chunk of brass bolted
+to the face-plate of this latter spun round at speed, while the tool he
+had fixed in position shaved a neat ribbon of metal from it. Then the
+lever swung back, the spindle of the lathe came to a rest, while the
+shaft above ceased to rotate, leaving the engine still running.
+
+"I know. We'll make a trap for the ass. Catch him as they catch elephant
+and rhinoceros in Africa," he suddenly blurted out as he turned from the
+lathe. As for his hearers, they received his suggestion with scant
+sympathy.
+
+"Trap! How? Where? Rot!" ejaculated Bert. "What's the good of trapping
+an idiot?--unless, of course, you mean setting a thing like a
+rabbit-trap. That'd fix him. Imagine the great and noble Rawlings,
+fresh from a public school, lord of all he beholds, caught by the toe
+and left singing!"
+
+A wan smile wreathed his lips. Hugh giggled, and then looked serious. "A
+precious row we'd get into, too," he cried. "Try again, Clive. Don't
+talk rot; we're serious."
+
+"So am I; we'll fix a trap for this bounder, a trap that'll not hurt
+him, you understand, but one that'll make him look a fool and an ass,
+and'll teach him not to interfere with his betters."
+
+"Meaning us," grinned Bert.
+
+"Of course! Who else? You don't imagine that an ass like that's on the
+same plane, do you?" demanded Clive loftily. "Now I'll tell you how
+we'll do it. There's the path down the spinney."
+
+"Ah!" A frown crossed Bert's face. Hugh's ruddy cheeks grew redder. For
+that path happened to be the bone of contention which had brought about
+this meeting. But for that, Clive and Hugh and Bert would not have been
+gathered in the workshop on this fine morning, cracking sundry nuts upon
+a miniature anvil, and sucking sticky toffee. Bert, for instance, would
+have been down at the one single store which Potters Camp, their local
+village, boasted, where he would have painfully haggled for the stumps
+and other goods he coveted. Then Clive and Hugh would have been
+otherwise occupied. They had a big mechanical scheme on foot, no less an
+undertaking than the manufacture of a motor-car, a real motor-car to run
+upon the high-road. Morning and afternoon and evening they had been at
+it through these holidays. And the scheme was so very simple, and
+promised such certain success! To begin with, there was the petrol
+engine at that moment puffing and rumbling in the shop. The framework
+they had made was the precise thing for it. They had only to erect a
+species of crane above the engine and they could lift it into the frame
+and bolt it down. That was childishly easy. The rest was a triumph, or
+almost so, inasmuch as it was on the high-road to completion. For the
+front axle was already fitted. True, it was not quite up to modern form,
+since stub axles at either end were missing. But then necessity is the
+mother of invention, as Clive had told his chum often and often. That
+axle was bored at the very centre and swivelled about a pin bolted to
+the framework. As for springs, who wanted any!
+
+"Tosh!" declared Clive.
+
+"Meant for ladies and kids and invalids," said Hugh, equally emphatic.
+
+"It'll shake about a bit, of course," admitted the former grudgingly. "I
+reckon she'll do a good twenty miles an hour, and on the awful
+apologies for roads round about here, why, naturally, she'll hop and
+bump no end. But who cares so long as she goes? Not me. Only those
+wheels look a bit rocky, eh?"
+
+Hugh must have been an enthusiast, or else he would not have denied the
+obvious fact to which his fellow inventor had drawn his attention. For
+the wheels of this car-in-making were decidedly groggy, to use an
+expression common to this mechanical couple. But then again, necessity
+was here the mother of much inventive genius. Lack of funds could not
+cripple the enthusiasm and ambition of our two mechanics. Wheels they
+must have if they wished their car to run upon the road, while cash was
+decidedly lacking. But both had a bicycle the back wheel of each of
+which fitted with commendable niceness upon the spindle ends of the
+steel bar which Clive had used for a front axle, while the back axle and
+its wheels were supplied from the stable of no less a person than the
+Rev. James Seymour, the respected parent of Bert and Hugh, Rector of the
+parish, and owner of a tricycle.
+
+"Fits rippingly! Just the thing!" commented Hugh, when he produced the
+article for Clive's approval. "Only it'd be a bit unlucky if the
+Governor wanted to trike just at this moment. Of course, he can't. Dare
+say he'd be ratty, but then, think of how he's helping. It's just the
+thing."
+
+"Just!" Clive whetted his lips at the sight. The one great difficulty of
+this ambitious undertaking was conquered, and, of course, they were only
+borrowing the axle and wheels for a time. They'd have a run on the road
+and then bolt them back into position. No one'd be the wiser, certainly
+not Hugh's Governor. "But--just a trifle light for the job," he added.
+"Still, you never can tell till you try. But it'd be mighty awkward if
+there was a bust up. There'd be a ruction then."
+
+Hugh had agreed to that point, and for a moment had repented his action.
+But then, think of being beaten just for the want of a little courage!
+After all, the wheels and axle of the tricycle might be the very thing.
+They certainly looked it. And the Rector had not ridden his machine for
+a month at least, and for all he knew might have discarded it
+altogether. In any case, the parts had been borrowed, and as the trio
+stood about the lathe Hugh's admiring eyes were upon it.
+
+"Pity this cad's come along just now," he grumbled. "Everything's ready
+and fitted. A morning's work would drop the engine in and connect up the
+levers and the chain. That steering gear ain't too magnificent. But
+then, if one manages the engine and the other steers her, it'll be as
+right as anything. Hang this Rawlings!"
+
+Others echoed the same malediction. For the Rawlings family were not
+popular in the neighbourhood of Potters Camp. In the first place, they
+were new-comers, and in the depths of the country that is sometimes a
+sufficient offence. Then they were purse-proud and apparently rich, and
+apt to patronise their country cousins. Mr. Rawlings was of decidedly
+pompous appearance. Very stout and heavy, he had a way of lifting a
+condescending stick when greeted by neighbours. And Albert, his son, was
+a shining copy. He looked down upon the village youths from a lofty
+pinnacle. He nodded, when he remembered to, to Hugh and Bert and Clive,
+though to the latter he was not always so gracious. For Clive had once
+been master where the pompous Rawlings now stepped. Once he and his
+people had lived in the big house at the top of the hill, with its acres
+of park land about it. But times had changed sadly. Perhaps his father
+had been too immersed in his workshop, and had given little attention to
+the more serious affairs of life. Whatever the reason, his riches had
+left him, and here was his widow, with her only son, living in a small
+house at the far corner of the park, and once occupied by a bailiff.
+From the said house a path led through a long spinney to the high-road,
+and made a short-cut for its inhabitants. Otherwise they must needs go a
+long way round to get to the village.
+
+"And the cad forbids us to use it!" ejaculated Clive, as he recollected
+the occurrence. "Of course, the father's behind the business. He must
+be. But the son does the talking. A precious nice business."
+
+"Here, you get off! This isn't yours. Just cut it!" Hugh deliberately
+mimicked the youth of whom they were talking. "A fine sort of fellow,"
+he exclaimed. "So you'll set a trap for him, Clive?"
+
+"Now. Without waiting. I'd fifty times rather stay along here and finish
+this job. Just think, this evening we'd be ready for running. We'd have
+a trial spin on our car, for there's certain to be things to adjust. But
+we'd have her running top hole before it got dark. Then we'd make a trip
+to London."
+
+Hugh's eyes opened wide at the statement.
+
+"It's seventy miles if it's an inch."
+
+"Who cares? We can do it. But----"
+
+"Eh?" asked Hugh, scenting another difficulty just at the moment when he
+felt confident that all were overcome successfully.
+
+"How long would it take? Let's see. We do twenty miles an hour."
+
+"Hardly that all the way."
+
+"Why not?" demanded Clive, in whose fertile brain the whole scheme had
+originated, and who panted to be testing his first attempt at road
+locomotion. "Why not?"
+
+"Well, there's punctures," said Hugh lamely, and without thought of
+grammar.
+
+"Yes; possible."
+
+"Then there's traffic. Besides, we've got to eat."
+
+Yes, they had to do that, without a shadow of doubt. Seventy miles, with
+sundry delays--which, however, were not likely, oh, certainly
+not!--meant four hours on the road. A fellow couldn't hold out all that
+time. Impossible!
+
+"We'd have a blow-out before starting," declared Clive, his eyes on the
+machine he and his chum had been so diligently building. "Then we'd be
+off before nine. We'd get a real good feed at one. By then we'd be in
+London. That means we'd have to go to rather a swagger sort of place. I
+say, that's a bit awkward. How's the cash-box going?"
+
+There wasn't a cash-box. Hugh was the treasurer, and he slowly and
+somewhat sadly counted out three shillings and fourpence halfpenny. Not
+a big sum, perhaps, but nearing the end of the holidays, and after
+considerable expenditure already on their ambitious project it was
+certainly a triumph of management.
+
+"Bit short," said Hugh. "But it'll do. We must fill up well before we
+start, and take things in our pockets. I dare say we'll be able to find
+a place where you can get a feed for a shilling. Perhaps they'd take two
+for less. Things like that are easy to arrange in London."
+
+"Easy. But I was thinking of the return journey. There's a lamp wanted."
+
+"And numbers, and a licence," said Hugh, aghast at the thought which had
+never previously occurred to either of them. "My eye, that's a deuce of
+a job. The police would be on to us."
+
+Clive's was one of those jovial, optimistic natures which overrides all
+difficulties. "Hang the police! We'll chance it. We'll stick up a number
+of some sort. I'll ink one out on cardboard this evening. As for a lamp,
+there's the gardener's. I'll borrow it. It'll do, hanging on in front.
+It'll make us go slow, of course, but all the better. It'll be a joke to
+be kept late on the road and have everyone in fits about us. But we
+can't move to-morrow. It'll have to be the next day."
+
+Ruefully Hugh agreed to the plan, for he would have loved to proceed
+with the finishing of the car now so nearly ready. He sighed as he
+looked at the framework at the end of the shop, with its somewhat flimsy
+front axle and bicycle wheels, its borrowed back axle, its steering
+gear, a complication of steel wires about a drum mounted on a raked
+tubing, and surmounted by a cast-iron wheel at one time adorning the
+overhead shaft which drove the lathe. What thought that gear had cost
+them! What a triumph its construction had been, and how well it seemed
+to act now that it was duly assembled and mounted on the wooden chassis
+of the car! Only the engine needed now to be lifted into position, a
+chain run from it to the sprocket on the back axle till a few days ago
+part and parcel of his father's tricycle. There was the mere matter of a
+lever or two to control the engine, that strip of cardboard, with a
+number inked upon it, and they would be off. His imagination whirled him
+to the giddy heights of enjoyment as he thought of the trip before them.
+
+"But that cad's got to be dealt with," he agreed. "Right! What's the
+particular movement?"
+
+"A trap," interjected Bert. "A man-catcher. Go easy with the saw-edge of
+the concern and the spring, or you'll break his legs. We don't want
+that, even if he is a bounder. You'd have thought, considering Clive was
+the owner of the spinney only a year ago, a fellow would have been
+ashamed to order him off what had been his own property. But there's no
+counting on what cads'll do, or won't do. He threatened to throw us out.
+He's big, though only fifteen, they say. But if we tackled him together
+we'd make mincemeat of him."
+
+"Better make a fool of him, though," said Clive. "You come along with me
+now to the spinney. We'll fix the thing so as to make as big an ass of
+this Rawlings as possible. We'll rig a trap that'll hold him tight, and
+yet not hurt him. It's near twelve now. By two hours after lunch we'll
+have it finished. It'll be ready and working by to-morrow morning."
+
+They shut off the engine destined on the morrow to be lifted into their
+motor-car and provide the propelling force, and shutting the shop went
+on their way to the spinney. And the same hour found them hard at work
+upon another contrivance, conceived by Clive's inventive brain, and
+prepared for the purpose of lowering the pride and dignity of one who
+had given them mortal offence. Rawlings, the fifteen-year-old son of the
+pompous new-comer to the parish of Potters Camp, little dreamed of the
+consequences of his loftiness and of his churlish treatment of Clive
+Darrell.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+A BOOBY TRAP
+
+
+"Five feet and a bit," announced Bert Seymour with gusto, measuring the
+depth of the pit which he and Hugh and Clive had been digging in the
+centre of the path leading down the much-discussed spinney. "Two feet
+either way, and a precious job to dig it on that account. Jolly well too
+narrow."
+
+"For working in, rather," agreed his brother. "But about right size for
+a trap. A bit big, if anything. Top edges nicely sloped off, so as to
+give nothing for a fellow to cling on to."
+
+"And a good foot of sticky clay pudding at the bottom," grinned Clive.
+"That'll hold him like bird-lime. It'll be bad for his boots and his
+pants. But, then, it can't be helped. He shouldn't be such a cad. It'll
+help to teach him manners. I say, do you think a foot of pudding's
+enough? Suppose we make it two. It'd make things certain."
+
+A second foot of the sticky puddled clay was therefore added, and Hugh
+tested its adhesiveness with a long stake he had discovered in the
+forest.
+
+"It'll hold him like wax, till he hollers for someone to help him," he
+announced, with radiant face. "Of course, we ain't likely to hear him
+for a goodish time, are we? and there's no one else who'll be about. Old
+Tom knows what we're up to, of course, but he's a clever bird. He'll be
+out of the way, or deaf or something. Tom don't like the Rawlings."
+
+That was true enough. If Clive and his chums had suffered from the
+loftiness and condescension of the new-comers to Potters Camp, Old Tom,
+Mrs. Darrell's gardener, had likewise suffered. He'd been used to
+quality.
+
+"The folks up at the house was different to that," he had assured his
+cronies in the village. "The old master'd never have thought of passing
+without a nod and a smile, and most like he'd have pulled up his hoss
+and had a chat about things in general. As for being proud, why he'd
+have his hand out to shake whenever he came back home after a holiday;
+while he'd come to the wedding of his gardener's daughter, and it was a
+five-pound note, all clean and crisp, that he'd slipped into her
+fingers. He was quality. These here Rawlings ain't the same product.
+They're jest commoners. And I'll tell yer more," observed Tom, dragging
+his clay from between a pair of fangless gums and looking round at the
+company slyly and cautiously.
+
+"More?" ejaculated one of his cronies, encouragingly. "More, Tom? Then
+let's have it. We don't hold by new-comers."
+
+"Then here it is. But no splitting, mind you. No going about and telling
+others. Else the whole of Potters Camp and the neighbourhood'll have it
+before evening."
+
+He lifted an admonitory finger, and glanced sternly at his audience, a
+collection of village gossips of the type usually to be met with. There
+was Tom himself, tanned by exposure, his rugged face wreathed by a pair
+of white whiskers of antique fashion. A bent but powerful figure was
+his, while in spite of his stooping shoulders he stood half a head above
+his companions. Then there was the publican himself, rubicund and round
+and prosperous, his teeth gripping the stem of a favourite pipe. Mrs.
+Piper also, the said publican's helpful wife, ensconced behind the bar,
+clattering glasses and bottles and yet managing to hear all that was of
+interest. Joe Swingler, groom at the Rectory, fondly imagined by his
+employer never to frequent such a place as a public-house, was in a
+corner, jauntily dressed, the fit of his gaiters being the despair of
+Jack Plant, the bailiff's son. But the latter could at least display a
+suit to attract the fancy of all in the village. There was enough
+material in his riding-breeches to accommodate two of his size, while
+the cut of his jacket was ultra-fashionable. The slit at the back
+extended so high, and the tails were so long, that one wondered whether
+the garment were actually divided into two portions. For the rest of the
+audience, they were shepherds, pig men--for Potters Camp prided itself
+on its pigs, while there was even a small bacon factory--cattle men,
+carters and agricultural labourers, and all, without exception, agog to
+hear news of the Rawlings. That caution which Old Tom had given was as
+certain to have its effect as if he had gone upon the house-tops and
+called therefrom the news he was about to give to his audience on the
+promise of their secrecy. It was certain, in fact, that within a short
+hour every inhabitant of Potters Camp of adult age would be possessed of
+the information.
+
+"It ain't to go further, mind that!" repeated Tom, wrinkling his face
+and glaring round. "It's a secret; but it's got truth behind it, so I
+tell ye. I ain't so sure that these here Rawlings come by the house and
+the park in a square sort of way. You take it from me, I ain't so sure.
+There was queer doings afore the old master died. He got to runnin' up
+to Lunnon, which ain't no good for anyone, least of all for a squire as
+has things to see to in the country. There was letters to this man
+Rawlings. I knows that, 'cos I posted 'em, as I always posted all the
+letters from the house. Then the master dies, and this here Rawlings
+come down and takes the place and starts ordering people about."
+
+"And he ain't got it fair?" asked one of the hearers.
+
+"I ain't a-going to say that," nodded Tom cautiously. "But I kin think
+as I like. You can't go and stop a man thinking, can yer? No. I thought
+not. You can't. So I thinks what I like, and thinkin' with me's precious
+nigh knowing."
+
+The old fellow gave the company generally the benefit of a knowing wink,
+and lapsed into silence. But from that moment all who had heard him
+speaking thought as he thought, and were as equally certain. Such is the
+unstable foundation of tales which at times go the round of the country.
+Not that Tom was altogether wrong. There were others who might have said
+more, others in the city of London. But Tom did not know that, nor any
+of his audience. But the conversation at least gives one the impression
+that if Clive and his chums were not enamoured of the new-comers, Tom
+was even less so.
+
+"It'll come to blows atween that ere son of Rawlings and Master Clive
+and his friends," he observed to the company present. "There's been
+words already, and ef Master Clive's like his father--which he is--why,
+it's 'look out' fer this here Albert Rawlings."
+
+That pit so craftily constructed would have made Tom even more emphatic.
+For when all was ready, and Clive and his accomplices had completed
+their work to their own satisfaction, even they could hardly say where
+the pit existed.
+
+"Of course," observed Hugh, with that grin to which his friends were
+accustomed--"of course, if we were actually setting the proper sort of
+trap we'd have to bait it, eh, and put sharpened stakes in it to kill
+the game. But it isn't necessary here, eh?"
+
+"To bait?--not a bit. This is a booby trap," laughed Bert. "It's meant
+for an ass, and an ass is the one that'll fall into it."
+
+It came as a shock, rather, to this lanky young hero that he himself was
+trapped within the minute. For Bert was not too observant. That dreamy
+eye was not meant for close watching, while here it wanted the eye of a
+hawk to detect the presence of a pit. For Clive had been very thorough.
+To the covering of reeds and light sticks laid across the pit mouth had
+been added a thick sprinkling of leaves which were most bewildering.
+Bert's description of the trap as a booby one carried him away into a
+whirl of delight, during which he strutted aimlessly along the path. And
+in an instant he was immersed. There was the sound of rending reeds, his
+lanky figure disappeared as if by magic, and only the top of his cap
+remained in view, frantically bobbing.
+
+"Hi! Here! What's this?" he shouted, roused to a pitch of indignation.
+
+"Booby trap. Well caught!" cried Clive, dancing with delight at this
+unexpected demonstration of the successful working of his invention.
+
+"And done without baiting," gibed Hugh, shaking with laughter. "Now,
+Bert, you've spoiled the thing. Come along out. Don't stop hiding in
+there."
+
+That was an impossibility. Two feet of glutinous clay adhered to the
+boy's boots and trousers and refused to be shaken off. He raised one leg
+with an effort, gripped the sloping side of his prison, and endeavoured
+to raise the other limb. The result was that he was dragged back into
+the depths promptly.
+
+"Well, it's a beauty," he grinned at last, beginning to relish the fun
+of the scene himself. "Regularly tested the trap, eh? and been badly had
+myself. But lend a hand. This stuff'd stick old Rawlings himself, let
+alone his son. And it's beautifully hidden. I was never more surprised
+in my life."
+
+"Then it'll be ten times more of a jar to the fellow we're after,"
+gurgled Clive. "My! You do look a beauty! And what a mess you've got
+into!"
+
+Bert was smothered in sticky clay from the knees downward, and had need
+to stand in the stream adjacent and wash his boots and clothing.
+Meanwhile Clive and Hugh completed their repairs to the covering of the
+pit, scattered leaves about till the surroundings looked quite natural,
+and having concluded matters to their satisfaction passed out of the
+spinney.
+
+To-morrow, they promised themselves retaliation. "And it's not been such
+a long job as I thought," said Clive, as he put Old Tom's garden tools
+back into the shed from which they had been taken. "Supposing we tackle
+the car again. She'd be ready, perhaps, by the morning."
+
+But tea was of almost equal importance. Hugh and his brother therefore
+partook of Mrs. Darrell's hospitality, the state of Bert's trousers and
+boots being skilfully concealed by that young gentleman by the simple
+expedient of standing well in the background. But he left a stain here
+and there. Peering through her spectacles on the following morning,
+Clive's mother was astonished to find red lines of clay on the chintz
+cover of one of her chairs.
+
+And then the workshop claimed the three young fellows.
+
+"Ready for dropping the engine in," declared Clive, surveying the
+skeleton of his motor. "By the way, we've forgotten seats, haven't we?"
+
+"That's a nuisance!" admitted Hugh. "But we'll not let that bother us.
+We'll fix it by nailing boards across. I know. We'll get a box and make
+that fast. That's what all the garage people do. A shop body, you know.
+Smart! Eh? I rather think so."
+
+Behold them, then, struggling with the sheer legs erected over the
+petrol engine so nicely fitted in the workshop. Watch the pulley
+contrivance secured to those legs above and the rope passing about it.
+The slipping of the legs of this improvised crane was a distinct
+nuisance at first, and made the lifting of the engine difficult, if not
+impossible. But an iron peg driven in between the tiles of the floor put
+an end to the trouble, while, once the bolts of the engine had been
+freed, Bert and Hugh were easily able to haul the engine clear of its
+foundation.
+
+"Hoist!" shouted Clive, "and stand clear. I'll shove the chassis beneath
+the engine. Then lower gently. I don't want to have my fingers pinched
+off, remember that; so slack an inch at a time, and be ready to haul
+again."
+
+Oh, the triumph of this final achievement! That engine went into
+position with the docility of a lamb. The chassis framework might have
+been its intended resting-place from the very commencement. It bedded
+down on the wooden frame snugly, hugging the timber. The bolt holes
+matched beautifully with those bored by Clive perhaps a week before,
+calling shouts of approval from his comrades. And when the hoisting rope
+was thrown off, and the sheer legs removed, there the engine was in
+position.
+
+"And the wheels don't even feel the weight. Look. See if they do," cried
+Clive.
+
+"A bit wobbly, eh?" suggested Hugh grudgingly, pushing the chassis from
+side to side, when it certainly had what might be described as freedom
+of movement. "Just a bit, eh? Still, that don't matter. Make her run all
+the better. But I'm glad she hasn't springs. She'd fairly roll herself
+over if she had them."
+
+"But the back part's as steady as a rock," reported Clive
+enthusiastically. "Don't rock. Not a bit. Anyway, she runs forward and
+backward easily. By George! That's a bother!"
+
+"What? You make a fellow ask such heaps of questions," grumbled Hugh,
+dismayed himself at the sudden fall in Clive's features.
+
+"We've forgotten something else, and the bally thing's frightfully
+important."
+
+Hugh gaped; Bert looked somewhat amused. To tell the truth, though glad
+always to lend a helping hand, he looked upon all this unnecessary work
+as a species of madness.
+
+"You'll have to sweat at things like this when you're older," he
+declared. "No one's going to let you live at home and walk about doing
+nothing. You won't have time for games, and this sort of thing'll keep
+you from morning to evening--that is, if you take up engineering. Then
+why not make use of the good times and freedom now and play cricket?"
+
+That had led to a somewhat animated discussion on the subject and
+seriousness of games as compared with mechanics till Hugh and Bert were
+within an inch of a struggle. But that was in the past. The plot they
+had so recently discussed, and the pit they had dug for the downfall of
+young Rawlings, had drawn the bonds of friendship more closely together.
+So Bert changed his expression of amusement to one of concern.
+
+"What's the jolly thing?" he asked. "It looks complete--in fact,
+ripping. There's an engine and wheels and steering gear and frame. What
+more do you want? Ah! Got it! There's nothing there with which to cool
+the engine. Well, you two are precious mugs! Just fancy, taking all the
+sweat to mount an engine and then forgetting such an important matter!"
+
+Clive's eye kindled, while his cheeks reddened. He could afford to pity
+a chap who showed such tremendous ignorance; only, coming as it did at a
+moment when he himself was distinctly distressed, the idiotic
+suggestions of this ignoramus made him angry.
+
+"Hang it!" he growled. "Don't talk such rot! Cooling indeed! Why,
+even--even Rawlings could tell you that the engine's air-cooled. There's
+the fan, stupid! staring you right in the face. The thing that's
+worrying me is the lever for chucking the concern out of gear."
+
+Hugh gripped the side of the chassis as the secret was mentioned. It
+made him shiver to think that just as every difficulty that could be
+foreseen had been surmounted another had cropped up.
+
+"And it's a beast," he groaned.
+
+"A teaser," admitted Clive desperately.
+
+"What's a gear lever?" asked Bert, with aggravating coolness and
+flippancy.
+
+"What's a gear lever!" growled Clive, regarding him with an eye that
+positively glared.
+
+"What's a mug?" shouted Hugh, ready almost to strike him.
+
+"Someone who forgets that there is such a thing as a gear lever, and
+then can't or won't explain," came the irritating, maddening answer.
+
+"Look here," began Clive, flushing hotly, and stepping nearer to Bert,
+"I've troubles enough already. I'll trouble you to----"
+
+"He's punning," shouted Bert, seizing the angry Clive by the shoulders
+and shaking him. And then, careless of the anger he had aroused, for
+that was the way with him, he began to cross-examine the two mechanics
+on the uses and abuses of every class of lever. The meeting, in fact,
+was in grave danger of a sudden break-up. But a shout from Hugh helped
+matters wonderfully.
+
+"I've got it!" he bellowed.
+
+"What? The lever or the measles?" asked Bert, still amused and
+facetious.
+
+"Shut up, you ass! The measles indeed! No, the bally difficulty. I've a
+way in which to work it."
+
+Clive agreed with the suggestion when it came to be put to him, agreed
+with ungrudging enthusiasm. "It'll be as easy as walking," he said.
+
+"Or falling," suggested Bert.
+
+"You'll get your head punched yet," growled Clive. "But it's fine, this
+idea. You see, we start our engine. That's easy enough."
+
+"Well, it may be," from Bert. "I'll believe you."
+
+"Then we take our seats."
+
+"Don't see 'em," came from the critic.
+
+"Ass! You've heard of the box we're going to fix."
+
+"But that's a box. It's not a seat."
+
+"Go on with it, Clive," urged Hugh, looking as if he would willingly
+slay his brother. "Take no notice of the ass. We start her up, and then
+get seated."
+
+"On a box."
+
+"Yes," agreed Clive, glaring at Bert, who had again interrupted. "The
+engine's going. The chain's free-wheeling. We have a lever somewhere."
+
+Hugh pointed out its position with triumph, and the two promptly
+proceeded to fit the contrivance. But levers are not made in a moment.
+It was, in fact, noon of the following day before they were ready for an
+outing.
+
+"You manage the steering, that's agreed?" asked Clive, when the
+amateur-constructed motor-car had been pushed as far as the road.
+
+"That's it. You control the engine. Don't let her race too much at
+first. Remember I ain't used to steering. Besides, those front wheels
+are frightfully groggy. She'll sway at corners, and if we put on the
+pace I shall be piling the whole bag of tricks up on one of the banks.
+Bert'll keep cave. There's no police about here to matter. Jimmy, the
+local constable, 's a real good fellow. He'll see the thing from the
+right point of view. He knows we're experimenting and'll sympathise."
+
+"Particularly if he's called in at the inquest," gurgled Bert,
+irrepressible when his chums desired to be so serious.
+
+"Inquest. Eh?" asked Hugh. "What's that?"
+
+"Enquiry held on the bodies of Clive Darrell and Hugh Seymour, late of
+this parish, killed on the high-road. Died in the execution of their
+duty'll be the verdict. Great inventors cut off in their prime!"
+
+Bert had to run an instant later. For Clive came at him with a hammer,
+while Hugh looked distinctly furious. However, the incident quieted
+down, the inventors took their seats on this chassis of their own
+making, while Bert, having seen that the coast was clear, listened to
+the puff of the engine. Hugh gripped the steering gear. True, it was
+somewhat flimsy, and bent easily from side to side. But nothing can be
+perfected in a moment, he told himself. It would do for this first
+experimental run, at any rate.
+
+"Ready?" asked Clive deliberately.
+
+"Let her go."
+
+Clive did. There was a painful clattering of gears. The lever jerked
+violently, while the engine almost came to a stop. However, a touch of
+the throttle and ignition levers put that right, while the gear lever
+behaved itself of a sudden. The chassis bounded forward, very nearly
+hurling the box which acted as a seat from it. But for the steering
+wheel Hugh would have been deposited in the gutter. But he clung
+manfully to the frame, and in a moment was hurtling forward.
+
+"Steady!" he called. "She don't steer so nicely."
+
+She didn't. She--that is, the car--swerved frightfully. Those front
+wheels had rather the appearance of wheels trying to twist round to look
+at one another. Then the swivelling axle wasn't altogether a brilliant
+success. It refused to swivel at inconvenient moments. The heroes of
+this expedition were within an inch of the ditch lining the road.
+
+"Near as a toucher," cried Clive. "Keep her up."
+
+"Can't! The brute won't steer. She likes the ditch," came the answer.
+
+"Then I'll stop her. Some of those wires want tightening. Then she'll
+steer."
+
+But that troublesome gear lever was determined to ruin the hopes of both
+inventors. Perhaps it was because it had been forgotten till the very
+end and felt neglected. In any case, it refused to disengage, while
+owing to the awkward fact that the throttle and ignition levers had
+dropped away and gone adrift, Clive could not control his engine. It
+raced badly. It snorted as if it felt that it could do as it liked. It
+sent the swaying car hurtling along like a bullet.
+
+"Look out!" yelled Bert. "The bally thing's pitching like a ship at sea.
+Stop her!"
+
+"Can't! The brute's got the bit between her teeth badly," shrieked
+Clive. "I can't quite reach the throttle, and till I do she'll go
+plugging ahead. She runs like a demon."
+
+"Top hole!" gurgled Hugh, whom it took a lot to frighten. "Ain't she got
+pace? But she'd be better if she didn't rush so much from side to side.
+Look out! There's a cart coming our way."
+
+He set his teeth, endeavoured to make his figure adhere to the top of
+that egg box which did duty as a seat, and braced himself for the
+encounter. For encounter it seemed there was to be. The wondrous car
+which he and Clive had called into being romped towards the unsuspecting
+cart. It waltzed merrily from side to side of the road, seeming to take
+an uncanny delight in racing within hair's breadth of the ditch on
+either hand. It mounted the rough footpath with impunity, careless of
+the law and of possible policemen, its springless axles bending and
+bumping. It actually appeared to sight that approaching cart itself, and
+as if filled with fiendish delight at its unaccustomed freedom, and
+filled with knowledge of the helplessness of its inventors, it sped
+toward the vehicle, pirouetted before it, skidded badly, removing in the
+space of a bare five seconds one of the Rector's expensive back tyres,
+and then, mounting the pathway again with startling abruptness, it
+pitched its nose into the air, shuddered with positive glee, and having
+thrown its drivers into the ditch subsided into match-wood and
+scrap-iron. Those back wheels and their axle, borrowed for this
+memorable occasion, had the appearance rather of a couple of inverted
+umbrellas with the sticks tied together. The framework was torn asunder,
+and only the engine remained in recognisable condition.
+
+As Clive and Hugh picked themselves up from the ditch and surveyed the
+wreck, with the driver of the cart and Bert giggling beside them, there
+came a horrid shout from behind them.
+
+"Eh? What's that?" demanded the baker, for he it was who had so
+wonderfully escaped annihilation.
+
+"Someone in trouble," said Bert. "Calling for help. Let's go."
+
+"You ass!" grinned Hugh, gripping him by the sleeve. "Can't you guess?
+It's that Rawlings cad. We've bagged him."
+
+"It's someone as is in trouble," exclaimed the worthy baker, not hearing
+the above. "Wonder if it's that Mr. Rawlings?"
+
+"Young Rawlings?" asked Clive, with a horrible presentiment of coming
+trouble.
+
+"Mr. Rawlings," came the emphatic answer. "Him who's bought the house. I
+seed him walking to the path through the spinney. He's been away up to
+Lunnon."
+
+Clive and his fellow conspirators looked at one another painfully. Then
+they regarded the wreck of the motor. That was bad enough. Admission
+must be made to the Rector, and his axle and back wheels brought for
+inspection. Common honesty demanded that of them. It wouldn't be playing
+the game to borrow and smash and then hide their guilt in some underhand
+manner. And here was an addition.
+
+"I'm a-going to see what's up," declared the baker. "You young gents had
+best come along too."
+
+They couldn't very well hang back, and had perforce to visit the scene
+of their late labours. And there was the fat Mr. Rawlings, imprisoned in
+a pit which needed no adhesive clay pudding to hold him. For this London
+gentleman was of portly structure, and the narrow pit held him as if his
+fat figure had been poured into it. He could hardly shout. Even
+breathing was difficult, while his rage and mortification made him
+dangerously purple. Then, when at length the efforts of the four had
+released him, and he sat at the side of the pit besmirched with clay
+from head to foot, his rage was almost appalling.
+
+[Illustration: "HIS RAGE WAS ALMOST APPALLING."]
+
+"You little hounds!" he stuttered. "You did it. Don't tell me you
+didn't. I know you did. I'll set the police on you. You were
+trespassing. This is my property. I'll send Albert down to give you a
+hiding, and he'll be glad to do it. I'll--I'll----" His breath was gone
+by now, and he sat back gasping. But his anger did not subside, and
+Clive's prediction of coming evil was speedily realised.
+
+"I shall send you off to school," said his mother. "You ought to have
+gone long ago. I really do consider your conduct to have been
+disgraceful."
+
+"A piece of unmitigated mischief, and not of a harmless character,"
+growled the Rector, who was given to choosing long words where possible.
+"Unmitigated mischief, Bert and Hugh. First you have the temerity to
+carry out something approaching a theft, a common and nefarious
+business. Then you implicate a respected neighbour in a catastrophe
+which might have terminated in his entire and total undoing. Bert, bend
+over."
+
+Dear! Dear! It was a painful and humiliating week which followed. Young
+Rawlings up at the house giggled secretly at his father's discomfiture.
+But he threatened openly when he happened to come across Clive one
+morning. As for the three conspirators, they were not allowed to see one
+another, nor to communicate.
+
+"You'll go on Wednesday," said the Rector. "I've written about you."
+
+That was ominous. "We'll catch it hot," said Hugh. "I don't care. I'm
+jolly glad to be going. A chap ought to go to a big school, not stick
+always at home. There'll be a workshop. That'll be ripping."
+
+"And cricket. That's better. Wish Clive were coming to the same school.
+Old Tom tells me he's led a dog's life these last few days."
+
+Clive's existence had been wretched. He was glad, delighted in fact,
+when the day for departure arrived, and he took his place in the train
+for Ranleigh.
+
+"That cad travelling too," he said, seeing Rawlings entering a distant
+carriage. "Glad he's going to some other place than Ranleigh."
+
+He saluted his mother, waved to Old Tom, and sank back on his seat as
+the train started. If Bert and Hugh were glad to go to a public school,
+so also was Clive. He had longed to see life outside the village of
+Potters Camp with an intense longing. And here he was on his way. What
+would it be like? Was there bullying? Would he have to fag? and what
+sort of a place was Ranleigh?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+OFF TO RANLEIGH
+
+
+Going to school arouses a variety of emotions. In the case of Clive they
+were decidedly confused and jumbled, happiness, however, at the prospect
+before him predominating. For residence for a high-spirited lad at home,
+tied to a somewhat doting mother's apron-strings, is somewhat dull, and
+hardly conducive to good results, while the absence of a father had not
+improved matters. Indeed, it may be agreed without debate that the
+incident of that wonderful motor-car contrived by Clive and Hugh and the
+ingenious trap they had set for Rawlings had not been entirely
+mischievous. For here was Clive about to be launched on the schoolboy
+world, while Hugh and Bert, having listened to a long and verbose
+lecture from their father, hitherto their tutor at home, had entered a
+train and gone off likewise.
+
+"What'll this Ranleigh be like?" Clive asked himself again and again.
+From taking an interest in passing scenery, he soon began to look
+forward to another stop with eagerness. For at each station there were
+boys. Some big, some small; some jolly and whistling, others glum and
+thoughtful. Not that glumness was the order of the whole day. For at one
+station Clive observed with some amusement one youngster under the
+escort of a fond father and mother. The lad had much ado to keep the
+tears back as the train departed, while his mother wept openly into a
+handkerchief of diminutive proportions. Within a minute, however, there
+came shouts of laughter from the next carriage into which this hopeful
+youngster had stepped, and peering in at the next station, Clive found
+the lad as merry as a cricket. He was beginning to wish that he could
+join them.
+
+"I say," he began, somewhat lamely, "going to Ranleigh?"
+
+A fat youth, with a greasy, pallid face, pushed his head out of the
+window and surveyed Clive as if he were an inferior beetle.
+
+"Who on earth are you?" he asked, with some acerbity. "Who invited you
+to speak? that's what I want to know. Jolly cheek, I call it!"
+
+Clive was taken aback rather considerably. This was not the sort of
+treatment to which he was accustomed. His gorge rose at it.
+
+"Cheek yourself! Who are you, then?"
+
+It seemed for a moment as if the fat youth would have an apoplectic
+seizure. His pallid face became suffused a dull purplish red. His neck
+swelled in fat folds over his collar. If looks could have killed, Clive
+would certainly have been slain on the spot. But the engine shrieked
+just then, while someone within the carriage seized the tails of the fat
+youth, who disappeared precipitately.
+
+"Come in, Trendall," he heard a voice shout. "One would think you were a
+king, never to be spoken to. But who is he? My word, I got a glimpse of
+his phiz, and he looked as if he'd hammer you with pleasure."
+
+Another mile on this almost endless journey and the train again panted
+into a station. Clive hung out of the window, and then became aware of
+the fact that two individuals were approaching his carriage, while from
+the one next door the youthful Trendall glared at him. Rawlings was one
+of those approaching. He descended with majestic step from his own
+compartment and hailed a porter.
+
+"Hi! Portar!" he called. "Carry these things along heear. Someone's
+wanted to keep ordar."
+
+Tall for his age, decidedly podgy, and with a cast of countenance which
+was not too attractive, Rawlings just lacked that brisk, clean
+appearance belonging to young men who go to our public schools. Despite
+expensive and well-fitting clothes, an immaculate tie and hat, and
+socks of most becoming pattern, the fellow did not look a gentleman. His
+air was pompous. His manner of addressing the porter ludicrous. He
+stepped up to Clive's compartment, nodded grandly to Trendall, and
+pulled the door open.
+
+"He-e-ear, portar."
+
+The magnificent one proffered a tip without looking at it, and Clive
+noticed that the man took it with alacrity.
+
+"All fer me, sir?" he grinned.
+
+"Of course! I'm not a pauper."
+
+Rawlings waved him away magnificently, flopped on to a seat, taking the
+far corner, arranged his feet on the one opposite, and then began to
+take close scrutiny of our friend Clive. Meanwhile, another individual
+had entered the compartment. He was a tall, broad-shouldered, shambling
+youth, of decidedly foreign appearance, with clothes which spoke of a
+French provincial city. He stooped a little, was slow and ungainly in
+his movements, while his powerful shoulders were bent forward. But the
+face was striking and taking.
+
+"Pardon," he said politely, lifting his hat as he entered. "This is for
+Ranleigh, is it not so?"
+
+Rawlings regarded him stonily. "The cheek!" he muttered. "Is one to
+answer every bally foreigner? I'm not a portar!"
+
+He thrust his hands deep into his pockets and glared at the intruder.
+For the new-comer was an intruder. Rawlings had made his way to this
+compartment with a view to discussing certain matters with Clive, and
+letting that young gentleman thoroughly understand who was the master.
+But that last movement was his undoing for the moment. The fingers deep
+in one pocket struck upon certain loose cash, and withdrawing the same,
+Rawlings was at once stricken with a terrible discovery. He had had
+certain silver coins there before, and twopence in coppers. Those he had
+intended to present to the porter. But they were still there, while two
+half-crowns were missing. In fact, in his lordliness he had presented
+the grinning fellow with five shillings! No wonder the man smirked and
+touched his hat. That had pleased Rawlings at the time. Now, as the
+train swung out of the station, he dashed to the window.
+
+"Hi! Hi! Portar!" he bellowed. "Hi! You come back with those
+half-crowns. It was a mistake."
+
+But the whistle drowned the sound of his voice, while the porter, half
+hidden behind a barrow, waved a farewell to him. Rawlings threw himself
+back in his seat with a growl of anger.
+
+"You're going to Ranleigh, aren't you?" he demanded fiercely of Clive.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then just you look out for squalls. What dormitory are you in?"
+
+"Don't know," came Clive's sullen answer. This Rawlings was considerably
+bigger, though little older, but still Clive was not going to be
+bullied. "How should I?" he demanded. "What's the place like?"
+
+"You'll find out in time. And don't you try any traps there, youngster.
+See?"
+
+Rawlings was determined to let there be no misunderstanding. He
+stretched across the carriage and took Clive by the ear.
+
+"None of your caddish games at Ranleigh," he said, "or you'll get
+something worse than this, by a long way."
+
+Clive beat him off with a well-directed blow on the arm. In fact, with
+such heat and violence that Rawlings, still enraged at the loss he had
+so stupidly made when tipping the porter, lost his temper, and it looked
+as if he would at once take in hand the chastisement of the lad who was
+such a near neighbour. But the third individual suddenly distracted his
+attention. Could Rawlings really believe his eyes! This new chap,
+whoever he might be, a froggy probably, had asked if the train went to
+Ranleigh, and therefore, obviously, was bound for that destination, and
+must be a new boy. He was actually stretching himself out across the
+carriage, with one boot resting against Rawlings's immaculate trousers,
+while--worse than all--he had a cigarette in his mouth and was setting a
+match to it. It wasn't the fact of smoking that horrified Rawlings. He
+had broken that rule himself, and been dreadfully ill, much to his
+chagrin. But Rawlings was getting up in the school. He was in the lower
+sixth, would probably be a prefect this term, and such an act was an
+outrage to his dignity.
+
+"Well, I'm hanged!" he spluttered. "What on earth do you mean by that?
+Smoking! Here, stop it!"
+
+But the one addressed merely viewed him mildly. His brows went up
+questioningly, while he stretched himself a little more at his ease,
+causing Rawlings to remove his immaculate trouser leg with swiftness.
+
+"Do you hear?" he cried threateningly. "What's your name?"
+
+"Richard Feofé."
+
+"Hang the Richard! Feofé, then. Look here! Stop that smoking."
+
+But Feofé still regarded Rawlings mildly, and taking a deep inspiration
+filled the carriage with smoke.
+
+"You do not like it, then?" he asked. "Monsieur can then get into
+another carriage."
+
+Rawlings went crimson with rage, and then pallid, while Clive began to
+enjoy the joke immensely, for long ago he had sized his near neighbour
+up, and knew him to be nothing more than a purse-proud bully. But for
+the disparity in their two weights and heights he would have long since
+openly defied the fellow. But it was better to see someone else do that.
+And here was a hulking, good-natured Frenchman doing it splendidly.
+
+"Where do you come from? Who's your father?" demanded Rawlings roughly,
+as if to gain time in which to decide how to act.
+
+Feofé was not to be hurried. He had never been to a school of any sort
+before, save the local one he attended in France. But he had met boys
+and youths in plenty. And always this quiet, shambling boy, with his
+broad shoulders and appearance of hidden power, had won respect without
+recourse to violence. He took another puff at his cigarette, a habit, by
+the way, rather more indulged in by boys in France, and regarded the
+resulting smoke with something approaching affection. His eyes twinkled.
+He shrugged his massive shoulders.
+
+"Monsieur is somewhat curious," he said, using excellent English. "I am
+from Lyons. My father, he is a banker. My mother, ah, she is his wife,
+you understand. Then there is a sister. Susanne, Monsieur, younger by a
+year than I am. That is the sum of the family, but I will tell you all.
+There is a dog--yes, two--and a cat, and----"
+
+Rawlings was purple. Beads of perspiration were breaking out on his
+forehead. Catching a sight of Clive's grinning face he ground his teeth
+with anger.
+
+"Hang your family!" he shouted at Feofé. "Who wants to hear about
+Susan?"
+
+Feofé shrugged his shoulders. "You were so very curious," he said. "But
+I will proceed. We live at Lyons, but sometimes we go to Paris. There I
+have an aunt and two uncles, Monsieur. Ah! Yes, I must tell you all. The
+aunt is Susanne also. A pretty name, Monsieur."
+
+Rawlings was on the point of exploding. His dignity had long since gone
+to the winds. If he dared he would have seized this Feofé by the neck
+and shaken him. But the young fellow's broad shoulders and smiling, easy
+assurance warned him that that might be dangerous. But he must assert
+himself. He must show this Frenchman that he was a superior, and that
+that must be the light in which he must view him.
+
+"Look here," he said at length, smothering his anger, "no more of your
+confounded cheek. Susanne's good enough for you, so just remember.
+You're going to Ranleigh, and it's just as well to tell you that I
+shall be a prefect. Know what that means?"
+
+Even now he hoped to impress Feofé with his magnificence. But the lad
+merely raised his brows enquiringly, and shrugged his shoulders still
+lower against the upholstery of the carriage.
+
+"A prefect. Someone in authority. Well?"
+
+"And to be obeyed. Just chuck that smoking."
+
+"But," began Susanne mildly--we call him Susanne at once, seeing that
+that name stuck to him forthwith--"but, by the way, what's your name?"
+
+Imagine the impertinence of such a request! A new boy actually having
+the temerity to coolly ask the name of one who had been three years at
+the school. Rawlings gasped; he mopped his damp forehead.
+
+"Rawlings," he growled.
+
+"Then, Rawlings, you're a prefect, yes?"
+
+"Not yet," came the somewhat confused answer. "But I shall be this term.
+It'd be a confounded shame if they passed me over."
+
+"Quite so. A confounded shame. You would be a loss to the other
+prefects."
+
+Susanne took another appreciative suck at the weed, while Rawlings went
+hot and cold. Satire went to the depths of his being. This Feofé was
+covering him with derision.
+
+"Look here," he began threateningly, "it's about time you understood who
+you are and what I am."
+
+"You're a prefect, yes?" answered Susanne, not the least distressed, his
+little eyes twinkling, "or will be, at Ranleigh. But you are not one
+here, in any case. Is it not so? Therefore, Rawlings, get into another
+carriage if you don't like smoke, and do let us be pleasant."
+
+Never was a man more demoralised than Rawlings. He had made an entry
+into the carriage with the set purpose of bullying Clive, and of letting
+that young gentleman see who was to be the master. The commencement of
+the movement had cost him five precious shillings. That was sore enough.
+And then, naturally enough, he had addressed himself to this new
+boy--and had been worsted. It goaded him to madness to see Clive
+grinning still.
+
+"Well done, Susanne!" called out that worthy, delighted at the turn
+events had taken. "Rawlings ain't a prefect yet, and in any case we're
+not at Ranleigh. I say, I'm a new boy too. He lives quite close to me."
+
+He pointed a deprecating finger at Rawlings, and crossed to join
+Susanne. That young man welcomed him with open arms. The twinkle in his
+eye brightened, while he eyed Rawlings in a manner which made that
+individual squirm. In fact, never was the wind taken out of anyone's
+sails more completely. Susanne had reduced him to silence. Thenceforth
+Rawlings sat screwed into the corner, regarding the landscape with a
+face which showed the severest displeasure, while his lips muttered and
+twisted angrily.
+
+"Wait till I get 'em to Ranleigh, that's all," he was promising himself.
+"The first thing I do is to kick this Darrell fellow. Then Feofé shall
+have a turn. I'll get my own back whatever happens."
+
+Clive was no smoker. He was sensible enough to know that it would be
+harmful to him just as it would be to any other fellow, and for that
+reason refused the cigarette Susanne offered him. He wedged himself up
+close to his new chum, and commenced a long and intimate conversation.
+Meanwhile, other boys entered the train. Some in the next compartment,
+from which howls of laughter sounded, some in their own. Fellows nodded
+curtly to Rawlings. The fat Trendall came in at one station to have a
+chat with him, and found his chum curiously glum and silent. He couldn't
+understand him at all, nor fathom the movements of the two opposite. For
+Susanne and Clive regarded Trendall with the smallest interest.
+According to all the canons of school life they should have looked
+askance at a fellow who had been at the school a couple of years or so.
+In Clive's eyes Trendall should have appeared enormous. And, no doubt,
+had Clive been alone in this adventure, he would have been far less
+uppish. But Susanne was incorrigible. If he had never been to school
+before, he was at least not to be frightened by what was before him. To
+Clive, his easy, calm assurance was refreshing. To Trendall it was
+inexplicable. Finding conversation lagging he took himself off at the
+next station, his place being taken by two big fellows, who nodded
+cheerfully to the occupants of the compartment.
+
+"Hullo, Rawlings!" called one, a very tall, slim young man, on whose
+upper lip there was a respectable growth of downy hair. "Not dead,
+then?"
+
+"No," answered that individual sourly.
+
+"New youngsters, eh?" was the second question as the tall fellow turned
+to Clive and Susanne.
+
+"Yes," answered the former. Susanne took his hat off politely.
+
+"Help!" called Harvey, for that was the name of the youth speaking,
+grinning at this quaint exhibition. However, he returned the compliment
+by lifting his own. "We don't do that sort of thing in England," he
+said, quite kindly. "I shouldn't if I were you. Fellows would start
+rotting. I say, can you play footer and cricket?"
+
+Susanne's eyes sparkled. "I like them both tremendously. But play, ah,
+that is another question. In England fellows get a chance. In France you
+may say that games are only beginning."
+
+"Book him for a trial next scratch footer," exclaimed Harvey, addressing
+his comrade. "Look here, you two, I'm Harvey. This is Bagshaw, secretary
+of our Games Committee, and of everything else that's useful. He's head
+bottlewasher to every institution at the school, and don't you forget
+it. I say, how do you call yourselves?"
+
+How different was his manner from that of Rawlings. Feofé gave his at
+once, while Clive was not backward. The latter took an instant liking
+for Harvey. Of course, he must be a tremendous fellow at the school, top
+of all probably. Or was he a master? He looked almost old enough.
+Besides, he had a moustache, quite a decent affair. As to Bagshaw, he
+was a delicate-looking fellow of eighteen, perhaps, with a kindly,
+wizened face. A calm, studious man. The scholar of the school, no doubt,
+but not a games player. Nor was Clive far out in his reckoning. For
+Harvey was head scholar, a man head and shoulders above his comrades.
+Good at work, keen on books and such things, a decided master at debate,
+he was still a first-rate man at games, and perhaps shone still more as
+a leader. His clean-cut figure was the observed of all observers in
+School matches. His had been the fortune to listen to howls of
+appreciation when he had carried off the hundred yards, the quarter mile
+and the long jump at the School sports, while one and all, his football
+team or his cricket eleven watched his every move and gesture, loyal
+observers of all his wishes.
+
+As to Bagshaw, he was almost as popular. No one expected him to play
+games. It was well known that he had a weak heart, and with that, of
+course, no fellow could play. But his Ranleighan Gazette was a
+masterpiece. His poems were enthralling; while, strangely enough, this
+delicate-looking fellow, a scholar also, could hold the boys spellbound.
+When taking "prep." Bagshaw was not one to be trifled with. There was no
+nonsense about this delicate, ascetic fellow. He was cool, calm and
+commanding, and to those who had the sense, a real help in difficulties.
+
+"Ranleigh. All change!"
+
+The lamps at the station were lighted now. Clive tumbled out on to a
+platform seething with boys of every age. Boys laden with footballs and
+bags. Boys clad in warm overcoats, and others nobly discarding the same
+for the walk up to the school. Caps were lifted in recognition of one of
+the masters. Clive found himself doing likewise and wondering whether
+all masters were the same. For this one, a fair giant, of ample
+proportions, smiled down upon them all. He gripped Harvey's hand with a
+vigour there was no denying, while still smiling round at the company.
+And then in twos and threes, and here and there in forlorn ones, for
+your new boy is not quick to discover chums, the contingent of Ranleigh
+boys took the road for the school. Through a portion of the village they
+went, leaving the Village Jubilee Memorial behind them. Up towards the
+common, all railed in, where sports and cricket matches are held, up
+past the butcher's shop, with its slaughter-house close handy, and so
+onward through the tree-clad lane, past the master's entrance, giving
+access to the Sanatorium also, past an even more important institution,
+the tuck-shop to wit, and so to the gates of the school. Above, a third
+way down the hill, myriad lights flashed from the building. Clive forged
+his way up the front drive with Susanne beside him, up the steep slope
+to the front doors, never entered except in the case of a few, save on
+arriving or departing on the first or last days of the term. And so into
+the wide space past the chapel entrance, between Middle and Second Form
+rooms. And there, swept continuously by a seething mass of boys, stood a
+short, bald-headed master, nodding here and there, smiling all the
+time, evidently delighted to welcome everyone.
+
+"Darrell!"
+
+Clive heard his name and stopped. The lynx-eyes of the bald-headed
+master had espied him.
+
+"Sir," he gulped. He felt almost frightened. There were so many boys,
+and there was such an uproar.
+
+"One South, Darrell," he heard. "How are you, boy? Glad you've come. Hop
+up the stairs there and you'll find One South dormitory. Your name's on
+one of the beds. Put your bag down on it, and then go to hall. You'll
+get tea there. Chapel'll be in ten minutes."
+
+How did he know that this was Darrell? Clive found himself wondering
+that. And what about Susanne?
+
+"Feofé," he heard, as he ascended. And then less distinctly, "One
+South," with the same instructions.
+
+"I'm glad," he thought. "Susanne'll be with me. Wonder about that
+howling cad Rawlings. What a downfall! He'll not meddle with Susanne
+whatever happens. But he'll have his pound of flesh from me if the
+chance comes. Wish Harvey was to be in One South also."
+
+He clambered up the steps and turned into a dormitory but dimly
+illuminated. But it was big and clean and airy, and bore an appearance
+of comfort, some thirty beds being covered with cosy-looking red
+coverlets.
+
+Clive found his bed, deposited his bag, and then enquired his way to
+hall. Thick slices of bread and butter--known colloquially as
+"toke"--appeased a ravenous appetite. He had not even time to admire the
+huge proportions of the Hall, the many long tables, the names of boys
+long since departed who had won honours at the school, and the few
+pictures and portraits. A clanging bell summoned him he knew not where.
+He found himself processing with a number of others. Through that
+gallery they passed, with Middle and Second Forms on either side; then
+sharp to the left down a paved corridor, to a wide, arched entrance.
+They were in the chapel. Clive passed through the handsome raised seats
+of the choir, down the central aisle, and drifted aimlessly to one side.
+
+"Here," someone whispered. "One South?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then this'll do. Squat here."
+
+The fellow made room for him. Clive squatted and listened. The organ was
+filling the whole beautiful chapel with the sweetest sound. Boys had
+ceased entering. He raised his eyes to the entrance through which he had
+come, just to be seen above the choir. "Be sure your sin will find you
+out," he read above the doorway. The bell ceased ringing, the notes of
+the organ were hushed, a low "Amen" came from the vestry. And then the
+choir processed to their seats. Harvey was amongst them, and Trendall,
+his fat cheeks shaking. There was a string of masters, of all ages
+almost, all appearances and all sizes, looking somewhat out of their
+element. And last of all came the Head. Not so very tall, not big, not
+imposing, there was yet something about him which called for another
+look. But the organ was pealing again, filling this magnificent
+building, with its high arched roof, to the depths of every crevice.
+
+Clive cast his eyes aloft over the screen--in itself a thing of
+surpassing beauty--to the curtains about the organ loft, above which
+showed the foreheads and eyes of two of the school. And then the notes
+died away in a sob, which somehow seemed to have a welcome in it. The
+congregation kneeled. Then the voice of the Head broke the silence with
+the opening of the evening service, calm and dignified and musical. His
+eyes wandered round the assembled boys, not curiously, not with
+recognition in them, but with a welcome for all.
+
+Ah! Clive shivered just a little. Of a sudden it had come to him that he
+was one of them, that he was a Ranleighan, that the school honour was
+his honour, its prowess his, its victories his to boast of. And then the
+singing of the choir thrilled him as he had never been thrilled before.
+He felt as do those old, loyal Ranleighans who visit their Old School
+after the lapse of years. The music, the lighting of the chapel, the
+very scent of the stone and bricks awake old memories, sweet memories
+and thrill them. So with Clive. He sang lustily with the rest, and then
+sank to his seat to listen to the lesson. There was Harvey at the
+lectern. Harvey the hero of the school, looking magnificent in his
+simple surplice. Harvey with head erect, his fair moustache curling,
+reading to them in a voice that showed no sign of trembling. How Clive
+would have shrunk from such a task! He shivered again at the thought of
+such a possibility.
+
+Then came a hymn, the last prayers, and the thunder of the organ
+following. The choir filed away as they had come, the school remaining
+motionless till they heard the last "Amen" from the vestry. Then came
+movement. The boys were beginning to file out of the chapel and Clive
+prepared to follow. His eyes strayed this way and that, as he waited for
+his turn. All of a sudden he received something in the nature of a
+shock, something which set his heart thumping. For opposite him, waiting
+also to take their place in the procession of slippered boys, were two
+with familiar faces. Clive could have shouted their names. He almost did
+in his excitement and delight. For within a short dozen yards of him, as
+yet unconscious of his presence, were Hugh and Bert, his fellow
+conspirators, sent from their home as a direct result of that booby trap
+prepared for the unpopular Rawlings.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+SOME INTRODUCTIONS
+
+
+"At last! Got you, you little demon! I'll teach you to laugh when a
+beggarly froggy gives me sauce. This'll help to make you remember
+manners, and is just a sample of what's to follow."
+
+The amiable Rawlings, still smarting after his downfall in the train,
+had waylaid Clive Darrell. He pounced upon that youngster just as he
+issued from the chapel corridor, and with a heave and a jerk forced him
+through the narrow entrance into Middle School. A dim gas jet only
+served to show the immensity of the place, and its uncomfortable
+bareness. It was tenantless, save for the two who had now entered.
+
+"No use your howling, my son," exclaimed the brutal Rawlings sneeringly,
+twisting Clive's arm till it was a wonder it did not break, and holding
+it so firmly behind his back that the lad could not move. "We'll
+commence with your lessons now, before school begins to-morrow."
+
+He kneed the youngster unmercifully, shaking his whole body till it was
+a wonder his teeth were not jerked down his throat, and repeated the
+dose promptly. Clive shouted and kicked. His face was pale with pain,
+for his arm was terribly twisted. And yet he was powerless to get free.
+He wondered if he were going to faint. He certainly felt very giddy.
+Beads of perspiration were rolling down his forehead, and no doubt, in a
+little while, had the torture been continued, he would have actually
+fainted. But there came a sudden interruption. A stout, square figure
+lounged into the class-room, while a head appeared at the door behind.
+The figure belonged to Susanne.
+
+"Pardon," he began, with that peculiar politeness for which, in the
+course of a few days, he became notorious, "but you are hurting
+Darrell."
+
+Rawlings swung round on him, thereby nearly completing the fracturing of
+Clive's arm.
+
+"You get off," he cried angrily. "You've nothing to do with this affair,
+and if there's any more of your sauce I'll serve you likewise. Hear
+that?"
+
+Susanne seemed to be completely deaf. Not for one second did he forget
+his politeness. Indeed, it came to be said of Susanne, the good-natured,
+stolid Frenchman, that nothing ever put him out, and that even in the
+heat of footer he was always himself, the essence of politeness. But he
+could be deaf to threats. Moreover, such a thing as temper seemed to be
+foreign to him. He strolled up to Rawlings, took him by the nose and
+pinched that organ very thoroughly--pinched it, in fact, till Rawlings
+holloed. He let go his hold of Clive instantly, and clung to the injured
+organ, while his vengeful eyes flashed over the edge of his hands at
+Susanne. What precisely would have happened next it is impossible to
+state, for there came now a second interruption. Harvey's voice was
+heard. He had entered the class-room and was just behind the three.
+
+"Serve you right," he said bluntly; "and look here, Rawlings, understand
+this from me: while I'm Head Scholar and Captain of the School this sort
+of thing's got to be put a stop to. I'll have no bullying, mind that.
+And have the goodness to remember that Darrell's a new boy. Now,
+youngster, cut. It's time you were upstairs in your dormitory. Same in
+your case, Feofé. Rawlings, you can come along to the scholars' room. I
+want a chat with you."
+
+Clive clambered briskly to One South. True, he became a little muddled
+between the passages and the staircases, and found himself in the wrong
+dormitory. But a howl from a fellow hardly as big as himself sent him
+running like a rabbit.
+
+"Here! Who's this kid?" he heard, while a youth with red hair sticking
+up abruptly from his forehead, as if he had received a severe fright
+when very young and had never recovered from it, stretched out and
+snatched at his collar. "What dormitory?" came the curt question.
+
+"One South."
+
+"Then out you go. We don't have One South kids fooling about in Two
+South, I can tell you. Clear off!"
+
+Clive was actually staggered by the insolent arrogance of this
+youngster. He bolted, whereas, with all his wits about him, it is
+probable that there would have been at least a wordy warfare for some
+few minutes. And then he dived into his own abode, and made for his own
+particular bed. The dormitory was almost full now. That is to say, there
+was a boy to every bed save one. Clive sat down on the box placed
+between his bed and the next, and looked curiously round. There was
+silence in the place. There came to his ears merely the pattering of
+many restless heels upon the floor, while from the other three
+dormitories which went to make up the four in the south of the school
+buildings there came not so much as a sound.
+
+Was Rawlings in the place? Thank goodness, no! Then Harvey? Of course,
+he'd gone off with the bully to the scholars' room. So there was still
+the chance that ill luck might put Rawlings in One South. Opposite,
+smiling at him, was Susanne, his peace of mind apparently unruffled by
+the scuffle in which he had so recently taken a part. As for the rest of
+the thirty odd fellows, they were large and small and medium,
+shock-headed, sunburned after their holidays, rather clean and well
+groomed for schoolboys, but then they were fresh from home, and as jolly
+looking as one could wish for. Compulsory silence, however, muzzled them
+for the moment. At the call of "speak" within ten minutes such a babel
+of voices arose that Clive was almost deafened. Susanne grinned now and
+crossed to speak to him.
+
+"I say," he began, "who's that fellow I caught twisting your arm?"
+
+"Rawlings; he lives near us at home. He's an out-and-out bounder."
+
+"Ah! And a bully. He'll not try again when I'm near. But when he catches
+you alone, then there'll be trouble. I say, er----"
+
+"Darrell."
+
+"Then, Darrell, pity we're not next to one another here. Wonder if it
+could be managed?"
+
+The suggestion was hardly made before a hand was placed on Susanne's
+shoulder.
+
+"Look here, you're a new boy, aren't you?" asked a voice. "Well, I'm
+Sturton, you know, prefect of One South, and chaps aren't allowed to
+move over and speak to one another without getting leave. Now you know,
+eh?"
+
+Susanne apologised in his best manner, while Clive inspected the one who
+had spoken. He hadn't seen him before, for the simple reason that
+Sturton was one of those who ascended to the organ loft at chapel time,
+and was there invisible. He had come up to the dormitory after "speak,"
+and here he was, admonishing and advising Susanne as if he were another
+Harvey. Clive liked Sturton at once, liked his clean-cut figure and
+features, his bold brown eyes, his crisp and yet friendly way of
+talking.
+
+"I say, please----" he began, and then became somewhat abashed.
+
+"Eh? Fire away! You say----"
+
+"I was wondering, sir, if----"
+
+"Oh, come now, none of your 'sirs.' What is it?" asked Sturton, thinking
+that Clive was quite a decent little fellow, an acquisition to the
+dormitory.
+
+"Well--er--oh, I don't know."
+
+Sturton laughed outright. Susanne grinned. If Clive suffered from
+bashfulness, at least he didn't.
+
+"He doesn't like to say it; but we're chums--isn't that the word?" he
+asked. "You see, I got into the same carriage with him. There was
+another chap there, and he'd come to make himself disagreeable to
+Darrell. So I--er, chipped in, eh?"
+
+"Got it right--chipped in's the word," admitted Sturton, looking
+interested, while Clive nodded vigorously.
+
+"Chipped in, and together Darrell and I made him look foolish. Darrell's
+wondering whether we could have our beds close together, then I needn't
+bother to ask leave."
+
+"Why, of course! Bring your bag over. Change places with one of these
+fellows on either side. I dare say they won't mind."
+
+The exchange was made promptly, and Clive found himself chatting away
+with his new friend. He was half undressed when that fair giant whom he
+had first seen at the station, and then again amongst the masters
+processing into chapel, entered the dormitory. He went from boy to boy,
+shaking hands heavily but with sincerity and friendship.
+
+"Well, Darrell," he began, accosting our young friend, and speaking in
+so gentle and subdued a voice that Clive wondered if he had a bad cold,
+or if the voice really belonged to him, "been digging any more pits of
+late, eh? Or making motor-cars? Tell me all about them."
+
+There was such genuine interest in this master that Clive told the
+tale, till Mr. Branson--for that was this master's name--wiped tears of
+enjoyment from his eyes. Also the same eyes sparkled when the boy spoke
+of his motor-car, and forgetting all else in the depths of his interest
+plunged into a description of levers and gears, of throttle and ignition
+apparatus, of lubrication and cooling. Was Branson--Old B., as fellows
+spoke of him usually--was he a fellow enthusiast?
+
+"So you like engineering things, then, Darrell?" he said in his
+sing-song drawl, "and digging pits too? Well, so do I. Er--that is, I
+like the first. You'd like to join the carpenter's shop, eh? and the
+smith's shop? But no motor-cars. Ranleigh can't afford to have its boys
+rushing about the roads. And there are the police to be considered.
+Well, boy, I'm your dormitory master; I hope you'll like Ranleigh."
+
+It was Susanne's turn next. Clive watched the slouching figure of the
+young fellow bend politely, and marvelled as he discussed his coming
+with Old B. as if he were his grown-up equal. But that was the
+peculiarity about Susanne. Perhaps he had mixed more with men than with
+boys. Certainly he had an old-fashioned manner about him, while his
+self-assurance was far in excess of that usually displayed by one of
+school age. Then came the turn of other new boys, while the place of
+the master was taken by Sturton armed with pencil and paper, and
+rattling silver in his pocket. There were silver coins to be paid for
+the support of the football club run by One and Four South, a request to
+which Clive assented readily enough, though it depleted his purse sadly.
+
+It was striking half-past nine when at length all had turned in save
+Sturton and Massey, the other prefect. They sat on the edge of the table
+occupying the centre of the dormitory, on a line with the two rows of
+basins running down the middle. Snuggled down on his pillow Clive
+watched them debating in animated manner, and rose on his elbow as a
+pair of heavy feet came thundering into the dormitory. A young man
+dressed in a blue cotton jacket hurried from jet to jet of the gas
+pipes, and with the help of a notched stick extinguished all but one. He
+was gone in a moment, his thunder resounding from the other dormitories.
+
+"Good night, Darrell," called Susanne.
+
+"Good night, Susanne."
+
+Darrell dropped asleep feeling happy and entirely peaceful. He liked
+Ranleigh so far, liked it immensely. If there was a great drawback to
+the place, if Rawlings did happen to be there, and to have shown the
+most unfriendly intentions, at least there were good fellows enough.
+Bert and Hugh, for example. What luck their being at the school! And
+Susanne too, and Sturton, and Harvey. Yes, Harvey held pride of place.
+He was Captain, lord of all he surveyed, immeasurably above the head of
+the humble Clive Darrell.
+
+The violent ringing of a bell awakened Clive. He started up in bed to
+find daylight streaming in through the high-placed dormer windows. That
+same youth who had operated the gas taps on the previous night was
+thundering through the dormitory with his hobnailed boots, swinging a
+bell of generous proportions. Later, Clive gathered that he was known as
+a "beaky." He crossed to a door at the near end of the place and tapped
+heavily upon it. Then he disappeared as if in a perpetual hurry, and the
+ringing of the bell resounded from the other dormitories. Clive hopped
+out of bed, thereby arousing the inmate of the next bed. That young
+gentleman raised a very sleepy face from his pillow, hit rather
+snappishly at the hand which Clive had laid on his bed thereby to steady
+himself, and dropped back on his pillow.
+
+"Hang you, waking me!" he grumbled, his eyes half shut, as if, too,
+there had been no such thing as a bellman. "It's always the same with
+new kids. Get funked when they hear a bell. Want to hop up at once.
+Here, you Darrell, call me when it's twenty past the hour. I give
+myself ten minutes the first morning, afterwards just five. Any decent
+fellow can wash and dress in that time."
+
+Clive followed Sturton and a few of the others out of the dormitory,
+slippers on his feet and a towel about his waist.
+
+"Swim, eh?" asked Sturton, giving him an encouraging nod.
+
+"Rather!"
+
+"You're the sort of chap we want then. Hullo! Masters still fugging.
+None of those old games, Masters," sang out Sturton, whose manner of
+addressing the one in question showed that he meant to be head of his
+dormitory whatever happened. "Here, out you come! Fugging may be allowed
+at home, but at Ranleigh, never!"
+
+The unfortunate individual who lay next to Clive, and who had declared
+his intention of sparing a bare ten minutes on this, the first morning,
+for the purpose of ablution and dressing, was dragged out of bed without
+ceremony.
+
+"Hop into your shoes and no skulking," said Sturton, standing over him.
+"I've had enough of your slackness, Masters. Every chap over twelve in
+this dormitory goes down for a dip every morning. The kids can, too, if
+they like. Same with those in Four South. I tell you One and Four are
+going to come out cock dormitory in footer this term if I can manage
+it."
+
+Grumbling was of no use. Indeed, Masters showed no great inclination
+that way. Clive found him, after a while, when they had become more
+intimate, a merry, contented fellow, but dreadfully lazy.
+
+"A regular slacker," Sturton declared on more than one occasion.
+"There's a cart-load of sisters at his home, and they molly-coddle the
+fellow. If he imagines an ache or a pain, even in his toe, he lies abed
+in the morning and is fed by one of the many sisters. But there's no
+bringing chaps up here on the spoon. No hand-rearing at Ranleigh if I
+know it. When a chap's ill, he can go to the sick-room. That's right
+enough. Or to the 'sanny' if he's really bad. Otherwise he's got to be
+fit--fit as a fiddle, Darrell."
+
+Sturton was nothing if not open and straight-forward. Clive found in him
+something strangely akin to Harvey, the idol of the lower school, the
+man admired and envied by all the seniors. For Sturton was fresh and
+breezy in his ways. He addressed the juniors, not as if they were so
+many nuisances, or as individuals vastly beneath his notice--a manner
+much resorted to by Rawlings and the fat-faced Trendall--but as equals,
+cheerily; but always in a way that showed that he expected instant
+obedience.
+
+His motto was perfection. He set an example of the strenuous life, and
+allowed no shirking where games were concerned. Nor was he backward
+where work came into account. His figure, dressed in an overcoat over
+his pyjamas, often with a towel about his curly head, was familiar to
+all in the dormitory who happened to open their sleepy eyes in the early
+morning. For Sturton was "swatting." He had some examination in view,
+and since the rules of Ranleigh forbade the burning of the candle at
+both ends, and indeed compelled the shutting down of all lights by ten
+o'clock at night, Sturton perforce had to burn the candle at one end
+only, and that the daylight one. Five o'clock found him poring over his
+books at the dormitory table.
+
+And now he was ready to lead his juniors for the morning plunge. His
+conquering eyes viewed every bed in the place. Peremptorily he called to
+certain fellows. And then the procession set out for the bath, not
+sedately following Sturton, but in a rushing crowd, which went like an
+avalanche down the stairs, out of the wide passage between Middle and
+Second Schools, and then into the corridor about the quad. Clive peeped
+through the open windows, innocent of glass till the coming of December,
+when the school carpenter would put the frames into position. He saw a
+wide quad, smoothly asphalted, and rising by steps on the north side to
+a central doorway. Those open windows ran round it on three sides, and
+doubtless there were corridors within them. But he had little time for
+observation, for as part of that scampering throng he went pell-mell
+down the corridor, swung sharply to the left, and then along the east
+side of the quad. Up a short flight of steps, worn into deep hollows by
+the shoe-leather of many a Ranleighan, to the right abruptly, and so
+down a whitewashed passage with an abrupt turn at the far end, and then
+through a doorway into the dressing-room of the bath. A stretch of water
+lay between concreted walls.
+
+"Cold as ice," shivered Masters, still begrudging the comfort of his
+bed. "Sturton's a demon for hardening fellows. All the same, a fellow
+feels frightfully fit when he's had a dip in the early morning. But a
+bed pulls; I could always do two hours longer any morning."
+
+What fellow in his schooldays couldn't? A cosy bed pulls very hard on a
+cold, dark morning; but, with a peremptory Sturton about, there was no
+shirking. One and Four South boys mingled with others from West, a
+single, large dormitory, with those from North and East, and splashed
+into the bath. Sturton had his own ideas as to how the plunge should be
+taken.
+
+"Can't stand a chap who walks in," he said. "Might just as well have
+three inches of water in a tub in one's room. A fellow ought to dive,
+and he can go in off the board if he wishes. For me, there's no place
+like the shallow end. You've got to be canny when you dive, for there's
+not three feet of water, and if you scrape the bottom, why, concrete on
+a naked chest acts like a rough file on soft wood. It draws blood every
+time. So you've got to remember that. Now, young Darrell, show Susanne
+the way. Follow me to the deep end. The first plunge'll freeze you to
+the marrow. The swim down will warm your blood. You'll come out again
+with your skin on fire, feeling as fresh as a daisy."
+
+Off he went, cutting the water obliquely. Indeed, the dive was bound to
+be almost a flat one. Sturton did not appear again till he rose at the
+far end of the bath. Down he sank again, pushed off from the far wall
+under water and came up under Clive's nose, to that young gentleman's
+wonder and admiration. Then Clive attempted the same thing, flopped
+badly, stinging his hide severely. The ice-cold water sent a chill to
+his very marrow as he entered it. And then, as Sturton had said, his
+blood seemed to boil up as he took a first stroke. He was in a beautiful
+heat when at length he returned to the shallow end and clambered out to
+watch Susanne. That young man--known already to his dormitory by the
+name Clive had given him--looked somewhat doubtfully at the bath.
+
+"Swim?" asked Sturton, who had not yet got his measure, and who with
+insular pride and prejudice was apt to look down upon a foreigner. "Eh?"
+
+"Yes, but----"
+
+"What? Funk the dive?"
+
+"Yes," admitted Susanne frankly. "But I'll do it if it kills me."
+
+He went souse into the water, sending a huge wave before him, and rising
+a moment later to rub his knees and elbows.
+
+"Come to ground?" asked Sturton sympathetically. "Well, you won't
+to-morrow. Nothing like having one jar to teach you to be careful. Off
+you go. We'll all of us have to be nippy."
+
+Clive had never before had much need to practise haste, for at home
+breakfast had not been an early function, while the school he attended
+was within easy distance. But at Ranleigh he soon learned what it was to
+be something of a speed merchant where dressing was concerned. He could
+scrub his skin dry after his morning bath in a mere jiffy. The rush back
+to One South dried all the parts he had missed in his hurry. To dive
+into his clothing was a process facilitated by many an artful dodge.
+Masters, in fact, was a promising instructor.
+
+"Stick your things overnight so as you can hop into 'em all together,"
+he advised. "Vest and shirt always as one, mind you, and tie still on
+the collar. Of course, any juggins knows the dodge of getting into pants
+and socks at one operation, while if you don't bother to undo your
+shoes, you can push your feet into 'em in a jiffy. Five minutes is my
+time for washing and dressing."
+
+"Was," corrected Sturton, who happened to overhear this edifying
+conversation. "Was, Masters. I've been doubtful about the efficacy of
+the washing part. Chaps in One South have got to be known as fresh-water
+fellows, and a piece out of your short allowance won't help us. Besides,
+you're over twelve. Don't you let me catch you missing your dip in the
+morning."
+
+Once dressed on that first morning Clive drifted down the stairs to
+Middle School. There was no particular reason why he should go there.
+But numbers of the school were entering the narrow doors, and he
+followed. Bert was just within, looking thinner than ever, his eyes
+still more dreamy. And Hugh was beside him, vivacious and very wide
+awake.
+
+"I say, how ripping!" he exclaimed. "But wouldn't the Governor be riled
+if he knew what had happened? It was the last thing he wanted to do to
+send us to the same school. What about that beast Rawlings? Thought I
+saw him in chapel last evening."
+
+"Impossible! The lordly Rawlings go to Ranleigh!" exclaimed Bert.
+"Nothing less than Eton'd suit him."
+
+"All the same, he's here. I travelled a part of the way down with him,"
+said Clive. "I say, I'll tell you all about him later. He's a beast, and
+no mistake. But I want to get hold of that fellow. Hi, Susanne," he
+called.
+
+The Frenchman shambled awkwardly towards them. His provincial clothes
+were in marked contrast to those of the other fellows. Not that that
+fact seemed to distress him. Susanne cared not a rap for popular
+opinion. Half-way towards Clive a big fellow jostled against him while
+deep in conversation with another, and jarred by the contact turned
+angrily upon him. It was Rawlings, with the oily, fat Trendall beside
+him. At once the bully's face reddened. He looked threateningly at
+Susanne, while the Frenchman regarded him with something approaching
+amusement.
+
+"Pardon," he began, for he deemed himself the cause of the collision.
+
+"Hang your pardon! Look here, you Frenchman, there's just one thing
+you've got to understand. I'm a prefect, and----"
+
+"You're a new kid," chimed in Trendall, looking distinctly unamiable.
+In fact, this greasy, fat fellow had thrown in his lot with Rawlings
+since the previous evening. There had always been some sort of
+attraction between them. But Rawlings was to be a prefect. To the
+self-seeking Trendall that was sufficient, a friendship with him
+promised many advantages, and here was an opportunity to cement that
+friendship.
+
+"Precisely," said Rawlings, "and the sooner you get to know it the
+better. You'll do well to sheer clear of this Darrell."
+
+There was surprise in his eyes as he saw Bert and Hugh. A sneer gathered
+on his face, and then a scowl of anger. For Hugh grinned a grin of
+recognition. He remembered the pit, and the manner in which it had
+captured the wrong individual.
+
+"You're here too; then you'll catch it," growled Rawlings, moving on
+with Trendall.
+
+"Pleasant," smiled Hugh, when he had gone.
+
+"A gentleman, eh?" asked Susanne, with a lift of his dark eyebrows.
+"But----"
+
+"My friends, Bert and Hugh Seymour," introduced Clive. "That Rawlings is
+an out-and-outer. With Trendall as his toady, and perhaps another crony,
+they can make life unbearable here for us. That is, for Bert and Hugh
+and I."
+
+"And Susanne," said that worthy, smiling. "Remember that I have been
+dragged into this matter."
+
+"Tell you," cried Bert suddenly, "we'll send the beast an ultimatum.
+Tell him we'll hammer him if he interferes with one or any of us."
+
+That scheme had to be put aside for the moment, for there came a clamour
+at the door. There arose a shout of "_Cave!_ Old B.," and an instant
+later that fair giant entered the form room, obviously having easily
+overheard the warning. Boys ranged themselves up into line, and there
+began Call Over, Clive's and other new boys' names being tacked on at
+the end.
+
+"'Sum, 'sum, 'sum," the answers sounded, and then were punctuated by the
+ringing of the chapel bell. The door, shut a few moments before on those
+who were late, was swung open, and they processed to the chapel. After
+that there was breakfast in the Hall, and, later, form work began with a
+vengeance, Clive being placed in the Lower Third, while Bert attained to
+the Upper; Hugh ascended only as high as Upper Middle, while, to the
+surprise of all, Susanne romped into the Upper Fourth. It followed,
+therefore, that some time elapsed before the little quartette met again.
+But when they did, Clive drew up a letter, which, having received the
+signatures of all concerned, was duly posted to "Albert Rawlings,
+Ranleigh, Local."
+
+"This is to inform you," it ran, "that we, the undersigned, have decided
+to lick you every time you touch one of our band. We refrain from giving
+you our private and confidential opinion of you. As gentlemen, we feel
+that we have no right unduly to hurt your feelings. And also, this
+opinion of ours must be very well known to you. Just sheer off and leave
+us alone is the sincere advice of
+
+    CLIVE DARRELL,
+    BERT SEYMOUR,
+    HUGH SEYMOUR,
+    RICHARD FEOFÉ (SUSANNE)."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+AN ULTIMATUM
+
+
+"What'll you do?" asked Trendall, breathing heavily as he leaned over
+Rawlings' shoulder in Lower Sixth Form room and perused the ultimatum
+which Clive and his chums had sent. "Lick 'em all straight off, eh? But,
+of course, you'd have to catch 'em singly. That Feofé cad is as strong
+as a horse, and though he can't fight as an Englishman can, he'd kick
+like a horse."
+
+It seemed likely enough that the lordly Rawlings had considered that
+side of the question, or perhaps was even then considering it. For he
+turned a furrowed brow to his comrade.
+
+"I'm going to lie low," he said. "One thing's certain, the first chance
+I get I turn the Darrells away from our place. Of course, you know,
+Trendall, that we own the whole show that Darrell's father had. He made
+a mess of things, and my father came in and bought. That's why he hates
+me so much. As to this letter, pooh! I'll get even with 'em all before
+I've done. Feofé doesn't frighten me, not a bit."
+
+Certainly not. Yet Susanne had pulled the great Rawlings' nose, and that
+brilliant and magnificent bully had not retaliated. But he would, some
+day, when the moment was propitious. For the time being he left the
+little quartette alone, and Clive and his fellows were therefore at
+liberty to forget the feud; which they did promptly. In the meanwhile,
+Ranleigh had many things of interest to show them.
+
+"Look here, Darrell kid," observed Masters one day, presuming on his two
+months' seniority of Clive, and on the fact that he had been two terms
+at the school, "I don't mind taking you along to show you the sights.
+Been to the tuck?"
+
+"What's that? Oh, tuck-shop, I suppose?"
+
+"Of course, booby! You don't suppose it's a sort of place where they do
+the washing! Well, suppose we go there and introduce you? Eh?"
+
+Clive agreed readily enough. He was beginning to find that life at
+Ranleigh opened up a wider prospect for him. At home he and Hugh and
+Bert had been the best of chums, and no one had been admitted into their
+close friendship. But here the matter was different, and better. For the
+difference in forms separated the chums often enough. True, Bert and
+Hugh were in the same class-room as Clive, for it accommodated the two
+Middle and the two Third Forms. But at Ranleigh every hour saw a change
+in the class-rooms occupied by the various forms. Sometimes Clive was in
+Middle class-room, a little later he'd be in the Lower Fifth, and yet
+again in the "Stinks" room, a department that began soon to fascinate
+him, and which proved to be the one particular attraction to Susanne.
+
+Circumstances, therefore, separated the chums often enough, for Bert and
+Hugh were in Four South Dormitory. Not that that prevented communication
+when in their respective dormitories, for the inventive Clive soon had a
+species of life-line manufactured, and this, when Sturton's attention
+was occupied elsewhere, could be tossed over the partition right on to
+Hugh's bed. Notes could thus be dragged backwards and forwards, and
+continuous communication kept up.
+
+"But it can be improved, of course," said Clive, to which Hugh readily
+assented. "We'll make a telephone, nail the wires up the walls of the
+partition so that no one can see 'em, and then we can talk just as much
+as we want."
+
+It never occurred to either of them that they might get all their
+chattering over in the daytime. But that is just the little point which
+people sometimes fail to comprehend. It was the novelty of clandestine
+conversation which attracted, and set these two inventors to work to
+construct a telephone from plans and descriptions given in a book they
+had managed to borrow.
+
+In One South itself, Clive had Susanne always beside him, and very soon
+a firm friendship grew up between them. While on his other side lay
+Masters, the slug, as Sturton called him, a decent fellow, nevertheless,
+and now anxious to act as guide and faithful friend to our hero.
+
+They passed along those endless corridors to the back doors, through
+which law compels the boys to emerge, and sauntered down between the
+Fives Courts. On the left lay the Gym, where Hugh had already been
+practising. Then beside the Tennis Courts, and away across the field
+which fronts the school. And who could wish for a better place? What
+father or mother or fond uncle or guardian could hope to find a
+healthier, better spot than Ranleigh? The world has heard of the school.
+It has made its mark in many a walk of life, so that there is no great
+need to describe it minutely or to mention its precise position. Suffice
+to say that it is situated in Surrey, that it projects three parts of
+the way up a sloping hill, which is bathed by the sun on every side.
+There is not a musty spot about it, not a corner nor a crevice in which
+injurious germs may hide. See it, then, a red-brick pile, clad with
+creeper, with its clock tower and its chimneys and pinnacles. Cast your
+eyes upon the surrounding country, and admit, as admit you must, that
+never was there a more ideal position. For the village is a mile away.
+The school stands beautifully isolated. Fresh breezes sweep direct from
+pine tree and heather across its roofs and into its windows. Add to
+these charms playing fields which vie with those of schools of greater
+antiquity, and you have a description of Ranleigh.
+
+But we are forced to admit that Clive gave not a thought to it. He
+scudded across the field with Masters, dashed through the front gates
+and away down the road till they came to the tuck. It is a fascinating
+little shop, and here again we must admit that its contents appealed
+more strongly to Clive than did the surroundings.
+
+"Never been in before, eh?" asked Masters slyly, well knowing the fact
+that Clive had not.
+
+"Never; wish I had. Rippin', ain't it?"
+
+"Not half bad," admitted Masters casually. "A chap can stuff himself
+full here for next to nothing. By the way----"
+
+"Eh?" asked Clive, who was regarding a pile of apple tarts with close
+attention. "How much, please?" he asked the attendant.
+
+"A penny each, sir."
+
+"Cheap!" murmured Clive. "Oh, what where you saying, Masters?"
+
+He was carefully inspecting the contents of his purse by then, and not
+looking particularly at Masters. It was not precisely what that young
+gentleman wanted. He coughed loudly. "Oh, never mind," he said lamely.
+"I--I didn't say anything."
+
+It was such an obvious fib that Clive stared at him.
+
+"Oh, did I?" then remarked Masters. "Oh, yes, I remember. But it doesn't
+matter."
+
+He thrust his hands into his pockets, turned to the door, and beckoned
+to Clive. "Come on," he said, somewhat sadly. "Let's clear. I'll take
+you in some other time."
+
+That was just the very thing that Clive could not agree to. He had been
+thick-headed before. But now he was beginning to grasp the situation. It
+was awfully nice of Masters, too, he thought, though, to be sure, he
+didn't see the smile on the face of the attendant.
+
+"What's up?" he demanded. "You're never going to leave the tuck without
+eating something?"
+
+"Must," came the answer.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Oh, never mind." Masters shrugged his shoulders, and went from the
+cottage, Clive following. "Fact is," he admitted, once they were
+outside, "I've forgotten to bring money with me. It's a beastly
+nuisance."
+
+"But it don't matter," cried Clive. "I'll lend you some."
+
+"And then, of course," Masters hurriedly interjected, "it's a sort of
+custom here, you know, for new kids to--oh, never mind, let's clear."
+
+"To what?" demanded Clive, beginning to fathom the mystery.
+
+"Well, if you must know, it's a sort of custom at Ranleigh for new kids
+to stand treat the first time they enter the tuck. But it don't matter,
+as I said. Let's clear. I never borrow money."
+
+The generous-minded Clive could see only one way out of the difficulty.
+Indeed, he was eager to show his hospitality. And so five minutes later
+found the two youngsters securely seated in the little room beyond the
+tuck, their feet over a gas fire, their teeth busily engaged with apple
+tarts, while steaming cups of cocoa stood beside them. By then, Masters'
+modesty had entirely departed. It had been a wrench, of course, to allow
+a new kid to treat him! But in for a penny in for a pound wasn't a bad
+motto.
+
+"Tried those big chaps?" he asked, pointing to a box of squares of
+chocolate. "Ripping! They're only a penny, and there's different colours
+all the way through. Tony--met Tony yet? He's a fellow with red hair in
+Two South--well, Tony swears that there's regular pictures worked up in
+those squares, and that if you bite carefully you can see 'em. I don't
+believe it myself, but it's a joke trying."
+
+Clive did know Tony. He was the red-headed fellow who had shouted at him
+and been so very pugnacious on the first night of the term when Clive
+had entered the wrong dormitory. As to the squares, well, it would be
+rather a joke to test this theory of Tony's.
+
+"We'll test 'em, then," he said. "How many, eh?"
+
+"Well, of course," said Masters guardedly, "a fellow could do it with
+one, I suppose. But he'd have to be clever. Two'd give a chap a better
+chance, while----"
+
+"Sixpenn'o'th of those square things, please," demanded Clive, who was
+warming to Masters, and who happened to have received a useful present
+from a distant uncle that very morning. "You try first, Masters."
+
+"And those brandy balls are just the things for prep.," remarked
+Masters, some little time later, as if it were an afterthought and he
+had not meant Clive to hear. "They're hot with peppermint, and you can
+smell 'em all over the class-room. It makes the chaps look round and
+long for some themselves, while the prefect who's in charge of the room
+gets raging. Come on, Darrell."
+
+It was perhaps a fortunate thing that Clive's stock of sixpennies was
+becoming small, or he would have listened further to the blandishments
+of the crafty Masters. As it was, he purchased a liberal quantity of
+brandy balls, divided them with his friend, and then went off to other
+fields.
+
+"Sundy tuck's there," Masters informed him as they skirted the common,
+where cricket matches are played. "Of course, the Head knows that there
+is one, and would give his ears to catch chaps there. My word, they
+would get a licking! But he can't succeed, and for a very good reason.
+You see, a chap can slip in without being seen, and if the Head or any
+other inquisitive master happens to come along and suspect, why, you can
+bolt from the back door, up the garden and over the wall at the end.
+I've done it. So have other chaps."
+
+Before three weeks of his first term had passed Clive had a nodding
+acquaintance with all the surroundings of the school, and with most of
+the fellows. Moreover, he had witnessed the first great footer match of
+the season, and his youthful chest had swelled with pride because of the
+prowess of Harvey and other men. In fact, he was slowly and steadily
+imbibing that spirit of _esprit de corps_ which helps a school along. He
+was beginning to understand that self-effacement is a good thing at
+times, and that the good of the school as a whole is what should be
+considered. Else, why did Harvey work so hard to train the team while
+still doing his best in school time? Why also did Sturton work so
+loyally to support him, and still rise at cock-crow every morning so as
+to prepare his own tasks?
+
+But early frosts somewhat upset the plans of the Captain, and saw
+letters innumerable despatched to some three hundred homes, demanding
+that skates should be sent immediately.
+
+"Another day's frost and we'll be able to go anywhere. They say the
+canal's good," said Hugh, who had been making diligent enquiries. "But
+my mark is the lake at Ditton."
+
+"Private, isn't it?" asked Masters, who had joined the little band of
+friends, and who, in fact, was often with them.
+
+"Yes. But what's it matter? The Delarths are away from home. They'd
+never want to keep good ice all to themselves. We'll take french leave."
+
+"Or write and ask. Why not?" ventured Bert mildly.
+
+"Why not?" repeated Susanne, with sparkling eyes. "It will make the fun
+better. Besides, it is rude, is it not, to trespass on private
+property?"
+
+They scoffed at him promptly, and the very mention of rudeness put
+aside the intention to write.
+
+"It'll be part of the lark to go without being invited," said Hugh. "I
+know the place already, for I've been skirmishing round to discover
+likely spots for nesting. In the spring I'll be there. And if this frost
+continues, I mean to try what it's like on the ice. So there, Susanne."
+
+Two days later, after an intervening thaw of some five hours' duration,
+whereat the hopes and the faces of every member of the school, save the
+Captain and the footer team, fell dismally, the ice was reported to be
+bearing on neighbouring ponds, and particularly on that one down by the
+common in front of the butcher's shop. It had frozen very hard
+overnight, and the ground was as hard as a stone. After dinner,
+therefore, Bert and Hugh and Clive set out, Susanne being in their
+company also, with Masters following behind as soon as he could get
+away, an "impot" of some length having detained him. Indeed, the
+self-same Masters had made a valiant attempt to complete the task during
+dinner-hour in Hall. A pen of Clive's own invention had been brought
+into request. Thereon were fixed no fewer than three nibs, all of which
+would write at the same moment.
+
+"You see, it's not one of those clumsy things one's heard of," said the
+lordly inventor when he produced this wonderful time-saving implement.
+"Anyone can tie three nibs on to one holder and try to write with 'em
+all. But the blots he makes, my word! One nib rests nicely, but has too
+much ink. A second is too short to reach the paper, while the third
+sticks the point through and tears a hole. This pen gets over all three
+difficulties. So long as you dip her carefully, she'll write, for all
+the nibs are carried on spring holders. It's a champion. I'm going to
+bring out a self-filling six-line automatic writer before I've ended.
+I'll sell 'em by the ton to chaps at school."
+
+No doubt he might if he were fortunate, and if all "impots" were of the
+same character as that given to Masters. That worthy having incurred the
+displeasure of his form master had been very politely and in dulcet
+tones requested to deliver five hundred repetitions of the following
+statement. "There's a time and a place for everything."
+
+"And all because he scented peppermint," declared Masters hotly, when he
+reported the matter to his cronies. "That chap Canning's a bounder. He's
+always finding fault somewhere."
+
+"But," ventured Bert cynically, "perhaps he doesn't like peppermint."
+
+"Doesn't like peppermint! Rot!" cried Masters. "Who doesn't?"
+
+"Well, you do," grinned Susanne.
+
+"And so does any decent fellow. But that's where it is. Canning isn't a
+decent fellow. He's always grousing. Masters, you're talking. Masters,
+you don't answer. Masters, you're a fool. Masters----"
+
+"You're a glutton," grinned Hugh, enjoying the indignation of that
+individual, and receiving a buffet for his pains. "Well, he cobbed you
+sucking brandy balls, given you by Clive."
+
+"And told me that they were beastly, that I was making a beast of myself
+to suck 'em in class time, and that there was a time and a place for
+everything. Then gave me an impot."
+
+"Which has to be done."
+
+"That's it, and there's skating this afternoon. I'm going."
+
+It followed that Clive's inventive genius was called in to help, and
+that day at dinner, Masters, having gobbled up his meal, spent the rest
+of his time crouching over a book resting on his knee, on which was
+stretched the paper on which he was operating. And all would have been
+well, for he was making amazing progress with that patent pen, but for
+the fact that a sudden and unforeseen difficulty had arisen. The penny
+bottle of ink he had requisitioned had the most idiotically narrow neck.
+
+"Asses!" he growled, showing the difficulty to Clive, who sat next him.
+"What makes 'em turn out bottles like that? How's a chap to get to
+work?"
+
+Clive had many brilliant ideas constantly occurring to him.
+
+"Shove it into a spoon," he urged. "A tablespoon. Empty the bottle in,
+and then you can dip easy. It'll prevent you dipping too deep. Get on
+with it."
+
+Masters realised the brilliance of the suggestion, and at once put it
+into practice. He took the biggest spoon to be had, buttressed it around
+with bread-crumbs, and then emptied his ink from the bottle. That was
+famous.
+
+"One gets along like a house on fire," he told Clive triumphantly. "And
+the writing's ripping. Old Canning'll remark on it. George! Darrell, you
+might sell him one of your pens. Look! There's fifty of the beastly
+lines written. Here we go again. 'There's a time and a place for
+everything.' So there is, my boy. Hall's the place for writing rotten
+impots, specially when there's skating."
+
+Hall, no doubt, was an excellent place. But accidents will happen, and
+here with the most surprising result. For Masters, after much diligence,
+had actually managed to complete three hundred lines when his sleeve got
+anchored in the handle of the spoon filled with ink. It jerked over,
+and in one brief instant the writer of the "impot" had the contents of
+the spoon in his lap, while some of the inky mess flowed over the table,
+making an excellent black map on the cloth.
+
+"What a mess!" he groaned, when he had vainly mopped at his trousers
+with his handkerchief. "I'm sopping wet, and as black as a hat. And look
+at that beastly tablecloth. Here, Darrell, suggest something."
+
+The best that Clive could do was to propose a covering of bread-crumbs
+and salt, with which the huge stain was promptly covered. But all to no
+purpose. The eagle eye of the Captain of the School going the round of
+the tables in Hall after "knock up," when there was compulsory silence,
+discovered the map which Masters had painted so unwittingly.
+
+"Whose is that?" he demanded.
+
+"Masters'."
+
+"Ah! Writing at table. An hour's drill to-morrow, Masters. And that
+mess'll cost half a crown. Perhaps more. Why, your seat is smothered
+also. You're wet to the skin. Report to the matron afterwards, and get a
+change. I'll talk to you this evening."
+
+There was Masters in trouble with a vengeance. His "impot" had to be
+commenced again, for ink had flown liberally over it. His trousers were
+ruined, and doubtless his under garments. There was half a crown at
+least to pay, and a visit to Harvey into the bargain.
+
+"When there'll be a whacking," grinned Bert, always the cynic. "That'll
+be merely as a precaution. He'll lay it on hot so as to warm you and
+drive off the chill you'll be sure to have contracted."
+
+Masters was not in sufficiently good frame of mind to trust himself to
+answer. But skate he meant to. So at the moment when Clive and his
+friends left the building, he was seeking new raiment in his dormitory,
+having already obtained fresh underclothing from the matron. Then, by
+dint of running, he caught up the little band who were bent on trespass,
+just before they reached the ring fence that surrounded the property of
+the Delarths.
+
+"Just look round and make sure there's no one about," cautioned Clive,
+glancing over his shoulder. "Now, Hugh, you've been here before. You
+lead the way."
+
+"Then over the fence. Into that copse at once, and then bang straight
+ahead. The only fellows we have to look out for are the keepers. Of
+course, they'll hate our going through their covers. But then,
+something's got to give way when there's skating. Over we go. Last man
+take a look round when he's joined us."
+
+It took them perhaps half an hour to creep through the wood into which
+Hugh led them. Sometimes they imagined they heard voices, and when that
+was the case they cast themselves flat on the frozen ground and listened
+with bated breath. But there was nothing else to alarm them, and pushing
+on they arrived at length--after much exertion, for the cover was thick
+and brambles had a peculiar fascination for their persons--at the edge
+of the lake on which they proposed to skate.
+
+"Well, I'm jiggered!" declared Hugh, his face flushing, his steaming
+breath a cloud all round him. "There's someone on the place already."
+
+"Someone? A dozen people," Bert corrected him.
+
+"And--I wouldn't like to swear to it, but I do believe that that's old
+Canning," said Masters, glowering on an individual who suddenly came
+into view from the misty distance and swept across the smooth sheet of
+ice towards them. "Just like him to set a fellow an impot so as to
+prevent his skating, and then, when that chap had taken no end of pains
+to get finished and----"
+
+"Including half drowning himself with ink," grinned Bert, as a gentle
+reminder.
+
+"And getting a half-crown fine marked up against him," laughed Clive,
+giggling at his friend's misadventure.
+
+"And," proceeded Masters severely, ignoring the interruption, "and was
+working like a nigger, it's just like this cad Canning to turn up at the
+very spot and spoil fun entirely."
+
+That was where the sight of this master affected the whole party. His
+imposition was merely a matter between himself and Masters. Of course,
+they were all awfully sorry for Masters, though his getting soaked with
+ink was a jolly old joke, whatever he thought of it--but Canning was a
+cad, all the same.
+
+"What's he want to come along here trespassing on our property?"
+demanded Hugh hotly.
+
+"But--it isn't ours, is it?" asked Bert dryly, whereat Susanne
+threatened him with violence.
+
+"Of course it's not," the slouching Frenchman answered. "Not actually,
+you know. But we thought of the place first. We've the most right to it.
+What's Canning want hanging round the ice we've selected?"
+
+"Cheek! Beastly impudence!" declared Clive grandly, while Masters still
+glowered on the unconscious master. For it was Mr. Canning without a
+doubt, a kill-joy on this occasion. For, having gained the lake after
+such great trouble, Clive and his friends dared not venture upon the ice
+they coveted.
+
+"There's that cad Rawlings," suddenly whispered Bert, for Mr. Canning
+was close to them, and had sat down to smoke a cigarette.
+
+"And the greasy Trendall. He's always sure to be somewhere within
+distance," growled Masters.
+
+"And if that isn't Harvey, with Sturton near him, I'm not worth
+listening to," observed Clive, as if he were speaking of a certainty.
+"Yes, there's Harvey, hand in hand with Miss Withers."
+
+"But--I don't understand," said Bert, smiling grimly when some few
+minutes had passed. "There are hundreds of our fellows. They're arriving
+every minute. Surely----"
+
+Slowly it began to dawn upon the little band that perhaps all their
+secrecy and all their effort had been wasted.
+
+"Supposing leave was given for the school to skate here," suggested
+Hugh, aghast at the thought.
+
+"There's Smith Primus. Let's ask him," cried Clive, catching sight of a
+fellow of his acquaintance.
+
+"But there's Canning still there," said Masters, with something
+approaching a groan. "Supposing leave's been given for the school to
+skate here----"
+
+"And supposing--which seems a moral certainty--that we've made
+out-and-out fools of ourselves," interjected Bert satirically.
+
+"Oh, shut up, do!" growled Masters, while Hugh caught his brother by the
+collar. "Supposing that's the case----"
+
+"What?" demanded the incorrigible Bert. "That we've made asses of
+ourselves? That's dead certain."
+
+Masters looked as if he would gladly slay him. But he was determined to
+continue. Moments were flying as they discussed matters, and if they
+were to skate at all they must clear up this mystery.
+
+"Supposing that's so. Well, in any case, these woods are out of bounds
+and we're trespassing. Unless we can slip out on to the ice without that
+cad Canning seeing us, why----"
+
+"Skating's out of the question," groaned Clive. "Look here, you fellows.
+I'll slip on my skates, wait for Canning to turn his head, and then go
+swinging past him. If I signal you on, you'll know skating's allowed,
+and can slip on to the ice one by one as I've done. Eh?"
+
+They agreed to the proposition. Clive, moreover, was successful, and in
+a little while was diligently waving them on. And then his chums
+followed, all contriving to escape the eye of the smoking Canning,
+except Masters.
+
+"Oh, Masters, that you?" he demanded, swinging his head as that young
+hopeful happened to emerge from the wood and approach the ice. "Been
+trespassing, eh? Been into the wood?"
+
+There could be no denial. Masters could merely glance at Mr. Canning as
+if he wished the most dreadful thing to happen to him.
+
+"Yes, sir," he said curtly.
+
+"Then you've forgotten our little conversation, and the lines you've no
+doubt waiting at the school to give to me. Let me see. Yes. 'There's a
+time and a place for everything.' Those were the words. Well, they're
+true of this occasion. This isn't the time for trespassing when Mr.
+Delarth has so kindly given the school permission to skate on his lake.
+He particularly wished that there should be no disturbance of the
+covers. Masters, you must have sadly forgotten the lesson I attempted to
+teach you. Let me have those words written an additional five hundred
+times by to-morrow afternoon."
+
+"There's a beast!" said the unfortunate delinquent, when he rejoined his
+friends. "I'd fifty times rather be sent to the Head with a note and
+take a whacking. This impot business is breaking my spirit."
+
+But you wouldn't have thought so had you seen him ten minutes later. He
+was hurtling over the surface of the lake at lightning speed, with a
+string of boys on either side of him. It was an hour later when there
+came a shout from a far corner. Clive, dashing in that direction, saw
+that the white surface of the ice was broken and flooded. There were
+dark heads floating above the water. One was that of a girl. Susanne's
+face was amongst them. Trendall's, too, fat and oily.
+
+"Help!" shouted Clive, and at once set about a rescue.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+CLIVE AND HIS FRIENDS TRIUMPHANT
+
+
+That shout for help brought a scurrying crowd swooping over the frozen
+surface of the lake toward the spot where the ice had broken. It was
+taken up by more than a hundred. Small boys--kids, as Masters scoffingly
+designated them--gave voice to the call in high-pitched falsettos. Those
+of the senior school gave ear to the calls, and bore down upon the spot
+in silence. Canning--Masters' _bête noire_--threw away his cigarette and
+scuttled over the ice at a rate which was marvellous. But Clive was
+there first, and we speak the truth when we say that he was
+flabbergasted. Talk about a fellow being trained to be ready to meet any
+emergency! Clive was out of the running. He hadn't an idea. For at least
+twenty seconds he stared at Susanne's face, peeping out of the water, as
+if the sight robbed him of reason. And then his inventive brain set to
+work.
+
+"Hold on to the edge of the ice," he bellowed. "There's a ladder back
+over there. We'll send for it. Look out, I'm coming."
+
+Susanne nodded cheerfully. He had his arm round the waist of the lady
+who had been immersed, and grinned at Clive.
+
+"Hurry up, then," he bellowed. "Don't mind myself, you know, but there's
+the lady."
+
+What was Trendall doing? Clive saw him grip in frenzied fashion at the
+ice and slip off. He made another effort, and then stretched his arms
+over his head. Was he sinking? wondered Clive.
+
+"Look out," he yelled, slipping to his knees and crawling toward the
+dark and jagged-edged hole. "Look out for Trendall."
+
+Susanne cast his eye over his shoulder, hitched the elbow about the lady
+on the edge of the ice and gripped Trendall. He pushed him against the
+edge of the ice, and then finding his own grip slipping, he let go his
+hold.
+
+"Hold tight there," he shouted.
+
+"Hold to the ice," bellowed Clive, sliding nearer and now flat on his
+face. "Hold to the ice, Trendall. Get away from Susanne."
+
+But Trendall was not only exhausted; he was in a panic. Slipping from
+the ice again, he touched Susanne's shoulder, and then gripped it. Out
+shot the other hand and fastened about him. The three--Trendall,
+Susanne, and the lady--bobbed down beneath the water.
+
+"Let go! Let go, Trendall, you idiot!" shouted Clive, and then glanced
+over his shoulder. There was a ring of fellows round the gap in the
+ice, kept at a respectful distance by two of the prefects. Behind them
+again were some dozen of the seniors scudding away for the ladder for
+which Clive now shouted. Harvey was coming in Clive's wake, very
+cautiously, but not for fear of his own safety, while Rawlings stood
+irresolute, and when he saw that he was attracting attention, slunk to
+the rear of the gathering.
+
+"Go quietly there, Darrell," Harvey called. "The ice is awfully rotten
+and will let you in if you're rash. I'll be as near as possible, and as
+soon as the ladder comes I'll push it right out to you. Ah! That chap
+Trendall will drown the lot of them. Leave go there, Trendall!" he
+shouted peremptorily.
+
+But the fat and greasy senior who had toadied to Rawlings, and who had
+taken his part against Bert and Hugh and Clive, may be said at the
+moment to have been completely out of his element. Such a catastrophe as
+this was just the thing to test a fellow's courage, and Trendall did not
+shine at all. Susanne, on the contrary, might, but for the awkward turn
+events had now taken, have been merely enjoying a bath. But matters were
+too desperate for enjoyment. Trendall had firm hold of him, and though
+Susanne made a valiant effort, the hulking senior was dragging him down
+and the lady also. It was then that Clive acted. The crowd gathered
+behind first held their breath and then cheered him. In his enthusiasm
+Masters dashed forward, and throwing himself on his face wriggled
+towards him; while Hugh skated over the ice reckless of the
+consequences, till a stern command from Mr. Canning caused both to halt.
+For Clive had plunged forward.
+
+"Look out, Susanne!" he called. "I'm coming in to help. You hand the
+lady over to me and then tackle Trendall. The fellow's gone stark,
+staring mad."
+
+[Illustration: "'LOOK OUT, SUSANNE! I'M COMING IN TO HELP'"]
+
+Wriggling his way rapidly forward he was near the broken edge within a
+few seconds, when, as was to be expected, the ice broke with a soft,
+grating sound, letting him into the freezing water. And it was high time
+that someone came to Susanne's help, for that young fellow had more to
+fight against than he had strength for. He struck savagely at Trendall,
+but without result. He was dragged under by the combined weight of the
+lady and the lout who had now seized him. Clive even noticed that his
+face had gone a purply red colour, while when he came to the surface
+Susanne gasped for breath frantically, showing how immersion was telling
+upon him.
+
+"Hand over the lady. Beat that cad off," bellowed Clive, striking out
+for the trio. "Now Susanne, hand over."
+
+Fellows would have laughed at Clive at any other time, for it was
+ludicrous to see one of his small stature grasping the waist of a lady
+decidedly bigger than he. But the event was too serious. Also there was
+so much movement. For there were others bent on rescue. Harvey was
+there, and with one glance over his shoulder, and a caution to the
+prefects to keep the crowd back, he floundered across the ice and broke
+his way into the dark fluid in which the four were now floating.
+
+"Push that ladder out quick," he shouted, as he sank into the water.
+"Send young Seymour and Masters forward. They can both swim and are
+light weights. Ah! Sturton, get together one or two of the senior
+fellows, and if things get worse come in in a body."
+
+Then he left the edge of the ice and struck out. As for Sturton, if
+Harvey had not already gone to the rescue, he would have done so most
+certainly. But as we have said before, he could be counted on always to
+back up his senior loyally. He swung round on the crowd of boys
+instantly.
+
+"Newman, you'll do," he said, beckoning a stoutly built fellow to him.
+"Collins Primus too. There's Jimmy Pritchard. Coming, eh?"
+
+"Rather. Ready for anything," was the quick answer as the young men
+selected skated forward.
+
+"Then Gaspard also. He's a swimmer, and you, Rawlings."
+
+All came to the front. All? No. Rawlings seemed to be deaf. Sturton had
+recognised him standing at the back of the crowd, and at the summons
+Rawlings had sidled away. In the distance, coming towards him at a fast
+pace, he espied a group of fellows bearing the ladder for which Clive
+had shouted. In a second he seized upon the opportunity and turned away.
+But Sturton knew his man, and summoned him again in a voice there was no
+denying.
+
+"Rawlings," he called. "I shouted for you. You're either deaf and did
+not hear, or--coming?"
+
+There was no way out of it. The lordly youth who had made matters so
+disagreeable both at home and at the school for Clive and his friends
+turned with as good a grace as he could summon, and pushed his way
+through the crowd.
+
+"Did you call?" he asked lamely.
+
+"Did he call?" echoed one of the prefects satirically, a chum of
+Sturton's, one, too, who had taken Rawlings' measure long ago. "Every
+man in the school heard your name."
+
+"But you," interjected Barrold, a puny Sixth Form fellow, who made up
+for lack of inches by inordinate go and good spirits.
+
+"Perhaps he didn't though," broke in Bagshaw, the scribe of Ranleigh,
+the scholar who was most often to be seen arm in arm with Harvey.
+Everyone knew that Bagshaw was the prince of good fellows, always
+anxious to save a row. They knew, too, that footer and cricket and
+swimming were forbidden to him. And yet Bagshaw pushed himself forward.
+
+"Here, Sturton," he said brusquely, "let me come. I'm always put in the
+background. Rawlings is a strong chap and can help to manage the
+ladder."
+
+And thus the incident was passed over. In the heat and excitement of the
+moment, too, there was every opportunity for fellows to forget it. Few,
+indeed, had overheard the satirical words uttered by Barrold and the
+other prefect. Still fewer had noticed the flush which came to Rawlings'
+face to hide the pallor with which it had been covered a moment before.
+And none were witness of the mutterings he gave vent to as he turned to
+meet the bearers of the ladder. But Sturton knew, the delicate Bagshaw
+also, that Rawlings had funked. Hugh Seymour learned of it, too, on the
+morrow.
+
+Meanwhile, all eyes were fixed on the figures struggling in the water.
+Clive had relieved Susanne of his burden, and clung with his free hand
+to the ice. As to the jovial Susanne, things were going hard with him.
+Had he been called upon some three minutes earlier to free himself of
+the fellow clinging like a limpet to him, he would doubtless have
+succeeded, though not with ease, for the arms and grip of a drowning man
+are not quickly to be thrown off. But the young chap had been pulled
+beneath the surface of the water so often that he was already exhausted.
+Trendall still clung firmly to him. Even Clive could make no impression
+on those clawing hands, though he made an attempt to do so, hooking his
+elbow on the ice as Susanne had done. He was feeling desperate indeed,
+in his helplessness; for Susanne was more often under the water than
+above it.
+
+"Supposing he gets under the ice! That chap's drowning him. Hi! Help!"
+he bellowed.
+
+And then Harvey came into view. The Captain of the School cleft the ice
+debris and the water with lusty strokes, and was soon close to Susanne.
+He tugged, too, at those encircling arms, but they defied him. Then,
+while the crowd watching held their breath, he lifted one arm, doubled
+his fist, and brought it crash down on the head of Trendall. And that
+had the desired effect. The grip slackened. The two drowning lads
+separated. A second or so later there was a loud splash near at hand,
+and Sturton plunged into the icy water.
+
+"Saw you'd more than you could manage, old chap," he said curtly to
+Harvey. "So came along to help. You fix that chap Trendall. I'll manage
+Feofé. Well done, Darrell! One South's looking up, eh? How's the lady?"
+
+"Insensible, I think. She's very heavy. But I can manage. Ah! I'm
+awfully glad you've got him."
+
+Sturton had gripped Susanne by then, and now had his head clear of the
+water. The big head of the Frenchman, with its dripping, tousled mat of
+hair, lay on his shoulder. The face was deadly pale, as pale as that of
+the lady he had been supporting, as white and blanched as that even of
+Rawlings as he heard Sturton's summons. His eyes were tightly closed.
+The cheeks seemed to have fallen in. A frightful feeling of despair
+assailed Clive Darrell. At that instant he seemed to be able for the
+first time to measure his friendship for Susanne.
+
+"Hooray for Ranleigh! Hold on to them, you chaps! Well done, Darrell!
+Three cheers for Harvey and Sturton!"
+
+The crowd went frantic and delirious with delight at the dash and
+success of their comrades. Now that Harvey and Sturton had gone to help,
+not one but deemed the rescue certain, if not quite complete. The boys
+yelled themselves hoarse. Some danced on their skates with excitement.
+Mr. Canning alone seemed to retain his self-possession. Dodging from
+side to side all this while, anxiously watching what was passing, he had
+long ago slipped off coat and waistcoat. Perhaps he was fifty years of
+age. At any rate, his hair was white at the temples, and from the point
+of view of the fellows at Ranleigh that stamped him as an old man. But
+he was active enough, though not so much so as Harvey. Still, he was
+ready himself to plunge to the rescue should more help be needed, and
+for the moment he kept the boys back, and kept his head, which was,
+after all, a more important undertaking.
+
+"Ah! There's the ladder," he exclaimed in tones of relief, as Rawlings
+and a number of others appeared. "Hand it to me. That's right, slide it
+flat over the surface. Now, keep that crowd well back. Well done, young
+Seymour! Hullo, that you, Masters?"
+
+This latter individual gave his form master a curt nod. There was no
+rudeness meant. Only Masters was intensely excited, intensely eager to
+see his chum Clive in safety. He answered Mr. Canning just as he would
+have answered any other fellow at the moment.
+
+"Gently does it. I'm too big a weight to go too far forward. Seymour,
+you're light enough. If the ice gives and lets you in I'll come after
+you. Now, on we go. As quick as we can."
+
+Hugh made up his mind how to act in a moment. He stepped on to the rungs
+of the ladder, lay flat down on it as if it were a sledge, and then
+called back to Masters and to Mr. Canning.
+
+"Push her along," he said, unwinding the long scarf he had wrapped round
+his neck. "The ice is cracking a little, but I think it'll bear.
+Farther. A little farther."
+
+Thrusting the ladder before them, the two behind soon had the
+satisfaction of seeing Hugh within reach almost of Clive. Then there was
+an ominous cracking. The surface of the ice sank beneath Hugh and was
+swamped with water. A moment or two later it gave way, letting him into
+the lake. Then a coil of rope swished across Masters' shoulder, tossed
+by a keeper who had suddenly come upon the scene.
+
+"Shunt the ladder round to the far side, sir," he called. "There's a
+spring over here, and that makes the ice rotten. Shunt it round, then
+tie the rope and go ahead. You'll have to be quick. Them chaps is more'n
+half frozen."
+
+Clive felt numbed through already. He could see Harvey's lips shivering,
+and his teeth chattering. Sturton, too, looked blue, while Hugh, who had
+swum over to join him, looked pinched and desperately cold. Anxiously
+they watched as Masters tied the rope to the end of the ladder, and
+then with Mr. Canning's help changed its position. Once more it was
+thrust forward, this time with Masters flat upon the narrow end.
+
+"Heave!" shouted the keeper. Masters took the coil and sent it twirling
+over the group in the water. Harvey caught it.
+
+"Here," he gasped, nodding to Clive. "Take it. Seymour'll help you with
+the lady."
+
+They made a turn round her waist, and then as Masters drew upon the rope
+they pushed and helped the body of the unconscious lady on to the ice. A
+terrific cheer greeted this successful operation. Masters drew the lady
+toward him, swiftly threw off the rope and tossed it back to his
+comrades, and then backed with his burden.
+
+"Well done! Well done, indeed!" cried Mr. Canning. "Here, Bagshaw and
+some of you others, carry her away to safety. Ah, they're sending Feofé
+next."
+
+The ungainly form of the gallant Susanne was slowly hoisted on to the
+ice and dragged towards the crowd. Bert was the first to make his way to
+the front to receive him, and once with Bagshaw's help having carried
+him to the rear of the crowd, he set about reviving him in a manner
+quite scientific. He rolled and squeezed Susanne till one might have
+accused him of positive roughness. He worked till his breath came in
+gasps, and until another of the fellows came in to assist him.
+
+Meanwhile, there remained in the water Trendall and four others, and
+soon enough the former was sent to safety.
+
+"Now," said Harvey, when the rope came swishing over them again,
+"Darrell." But Clive showed no keenness.
+
+"Quick!" commanded Harvey. "Off you go."
+
+"Please," began Clive, for to argue with the great Harvey seemed a
+sacrilege--"please, Harvey----"
+
+"Eh? What on earth's the matter with the kid?" demanded that latter.
+"Look here, we're all of us jolly well frozen. I am, at any rate.
+Ranleigh don't want to have to record a death on this occasion. So out
+you go."
+
+But again Clive objected. "Oh, I say, Harvey, please----" he began.
+"I--you know----"
+
+Harvey scowled. The pleasant-faced captain of the school actually
+scowled. Had he been on terra firma and this Darrell dared to disobey
+his glance even, Harvey would have booted him.
+
+"Yes, I'd boot the little beggar," he said angrily, for he was still
+fearful of what might happen. But Sturton knew his man to a T. He leaned
+over, all dripping as he was, and whispered to Harvey.
+
+"Leave the kid," he said. "He was first here, and he makes it a sort of
+point of honour. Leave the kid, Harvey."
+
+Thereat the Captain grunted. He looked closely at Clive, and then
+motioned to Sturton.
+
+"You go, then," he said. "But you'll explain. It's the place of the
+captain of anything, whether ship or school, to go last out of danger.
+But, dash it, this kid's worth making an exception for. Heave up,
+Sturton. I'm keen to get out of this water."
+
+And that was how it happened that Clive left the hole in the ice last.
+The cheers which greeted the coming of each one of them were thunderous.
+They even brought a chilly blush to Clive's cheeks. But he was given
+very little time in which to listen.
+
+"Get off back to the school," commanded Sturton. "Here, you Hugh Seymour
+and Darrell, cut quick. Report to the matron when you're back. Run all
+the way. I'll boot you if you don't. Do you hear? Skip, then."
+
+"And ask Mrs. Tyndal to have hot bottles and blankets ready," shouted
+Mr. Canning, who was bustling from Feofé to Trendall, and back to the
+still unconscious lady. "We'll get some sort of conveyance and send them
+up. Now, you boys, strip off your skates and help to carry our
+patients."
+
+Thanks to the fact that the Headmaster of Ranleigh was an enlightened
+individual and believed in teaching his scholars other things than
+merely Greek, Latin, and Mathematics, there were numbers of the fellows
+who, like Bert, had more than a smattering of the art of First-Aid.
+Still, the surface of a frozen lake is not the best of places on which
+to revive semi-drowned individuals. And then, unconsciousness in all
+three cases was due perhaps in great degree to cold and exposure. There
+were not wanting willing hands to carry Susanne, the lady, and Trendall
+to the big house adjacent to the lake, where hot baths administered by
+the housekeeper and her attendants soon helped matters wonderfully. But
+it was late in the evening before Mr. Canning set out with two blanketed
+figures. By then Clive and Hugh had put in an appearance, glowing from
+head to foot after their sharp run up to the school. Sturton and Harvey
+were not long in following, and by tea time a hot bath had made the glow
+about their bodies permanent. They descended to the Hall in a body, the
+school being already assembled, and we record only the truth when we say
+that their appearance was the signal for an outburst of enthusiasm
+entirely unprecedented. Never before had Ranleigh been so stirred. Never
+before had there been an event quite so exciting. Ranleigh was known far
+and wide for the strength of its lungs, for the liberality and
+genuineness of its applause. But now the school went mad. Defying fines,
+boys stood on the tables and cheered as Clive and Hugh and Sturton and
+Harvey went to their places. The fellows cheered themselves hoarse, and
+called for speeches. Then the sudden appearance of the Headmaster put a
+damper for the moment on their enthusiasm.
+
+Let us more fully describe the one who held in his hands the
+administration of Ranleigh. Not tall, as we have said already, not
+perhaps very striking in appearance, Dr. Layman yet attracted and held
+the interest and sympathy of any body of people he cared to address.
+Clean-shaven, save for a pair of whiskers, grey-headed, he presented a
+face which was the essence of kindness. A pair of twinkling eyes were
+wont to look down upon the school, whether from his seat in Chapel, or
+from the dais in Hall. Austere some would have called him, those who
+looked but once at his face. A jolly, rollicking fellow the boys knew
+him to be, save when there was occasion for severity. And now he stood
+of a sudden before them. Did he notice those who, contrary to all
+regulations, contrary, indeed, to all precedent, had mounted the tables
+in their enthusiasm? If he did, he showed no sign of having done so,
+while they slunk back to a more decorous position.
+
+"Boys," he began, shutting his eyes as was his wont when addressing an
+audience, "boys of Ranleigh, to-day I am a proud man."
+
+They made the old Hall ring with their cheers and shouts. Evans Tertius
+even, the smallest of all there, raised a shrill voice to swell the
+cheering of his comrades. And then silence fell again, a silence that
+was trying.
+
+"Boys of Ranleigh, I feel that I have reason to be proud of this school
+to-day. For some of your comrades have behaved with heroism, while all
+have shown coolness in time of danger. I need mention no names. Those
+who have done best of all are well known to you. I congratulate them,
+and I congratulate the school on having them amongst us. That is all.
+Trendall and Feofé and the lady are now recovered, I am glad to say.
+Boys, there will be no preparation this evening."
+
+Yes, Ranleigh cheered again. The boys shouted themselves hoarse, even
+when the Doctor had left them. And then, Nature asserting herself, they
+sat down to discuss the meal, for appetites were keen after the skating.
+We can believe, too, that the affair was discussed threadbare before
+evening was ended, while glances turned frequently towards Clive and the
+others. Some, too, were turned in Rawlings' direction.
+
+"The fellow funked," said Barford deliberately.
+
+"No," corrected Bagshaw politely. "Look here, Barford, don't say that.
+I'm not too fond of Rawlings, I own. But if the school got to think a
+thing like that he'd never have another decent minute. Let him have the
+benefit of the doubt. The thing'll be a lesson to him."
+
+As for Masters, delighted with the ending of such an adventure, and
+forgetful for the moment of his ill luck when at dinner, he sat down
+after tea with that wonderful pen of Clive's invention and began upon
+the task which Mr. Canning had set him.
+
+"Beastly cad," he told himself, but with far less bitterness than on
+that same afternoon. "But he bucked up awfully well to-day. You could
+see he was ready to go in and help the others. All the same, what's he
+want to give me such an impot for? Beast, I call him."
+
+"Oh, hullo," called a voice at the doorway. "That you, Masters?"
+
+The owner of the name admitted the fact with reddened face. "Yes, sir,"
+he said lamely.
+
+"Writing?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Home?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Or doing impots?"
+
+Mr. Canning grinned. It was like the cad, thought Masters for a moment.
+Then, catching something out of the usual in the master's smile, he
+permitted himself to smile back in return.
+
+"Impots, sir," he said.
+
+"Ah! There's a time and a place for everything, eh, Masters?"
+
+What could the young fellow do but grin? Mr. Canning looked absolutely
+genial. Now that Masters came to look at him more closely and less
+severely he was bound to admit that he wasn't a bad sort of fellow.
+
+"Though beastly fond of giving impots," he thought.
+
+"Doing it now, sir," he said.
+
+"But there's no prep.," suggested Mr. Canning.
+
+"Impots aren't prep., sir," came the answer.
+
+"No, but there's a time and a place for everything, and to-night's the
+time for enjoyment. Leave that impot, boy. I'll take it as presented."
+
+He was gone in a moment, leaving Masters with a very red face indeed.
+"Well, I'm jiggered!" that young hopeful exclaimed, when at length he
+had recovered his balance. "I say, Seymour, Canning isn't a bad sort, is
+he? Did rather well to-day, eh? Not half a bad fellow. Think I shall
+patronise him in the future."
+
+The climax of all came when they were ranged in order for Chapel. The
+great Harvey, smiling and serene as ever, passed down the lines of
+boys, and happened to hit on Masters.
+
+"Hullo," he called. "I say, Masters, thanks."
+
+The words almost caused another paroxysm of cheering. Masters went the
+colour of a beetroot.
+
+"And, by the way," added Harvey, "about that ink stain. Expect it was an
+accident. I'll see the right people. Half a crown's too big a fine.
+Supposing we forget it?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+PLANS FOR AN OUTING
+
+
+Round about the "tortoise" stove in the workshop at Ranleigh the tongues
+of certain of the boys wagged with a vigour there was no denying and no
+checking. Susanne held the post of honour, seated on an up-turned box in
+front of the stove, his feet on the high, bent-iron fender which kept
+the hot cinders from coming into contact with the piles of shavings
+littering the floor. Clive lolled back, his shoulders against the corner
+of the nearest bench, while Masters occupied a place on the same form.
+
+"My! They don't smell half good," reflected Hugh, sniffing with decided
+appreciation at the roasting apples placed on top of the stove. "There's
+apples and apples."
+
+"And orchards and orchards," chipped in Masters.
+
+"And some of them are easier to get at than others, eh?" smiled Bert,
+prodding a baking potato with the broken prongs of an old fork. "There
+never was a place such as this is for a wet day. Of course, when one's
+a senior it's easy enough to bag one of the Fives Courts and have a
+game. But not being a senior, of course----"
+
+"You have to descend to the workshop," laughed Susanne. "It's good
+enough for me, anyway. I suppose if we all did as you'd have us, you'd
+be at Fives, Hugh in the Gym, and Clive hammering iron in the forge. As
+to Masters----"
+
+"Ah!" grinned that unabashed youth, "I know what you're going to say. Of
+course, I'd be sweating at impots for that cad Canning. Now, would you
+believe it? after letting me off the one about a time and a place, the
+very day after he set me another. That's Canning all over."
+
+There was a grimace as he ended. Masters had found Mr. Canning a strange
+mixture indeed, for whereas he had experienced his benevolence on the
+night after the rescue of those who had been plunged into the water, the
+master had been down upon him like a ton of bricks on the following day.
+
+"Masters, you're not attending. What was the passage we were then
+construing?"
+
+Masters made a wild shot, one which went very wide of the mark too.
+
+"And that's what we were doing, then?" asked Mr. Canning sweetly.
+
+"Yes, sir--at least, that's the best I can remember."
+
+"Indeed. Your memory is very defective. We were not even dealing with
+the page in which that passage occurs. As I said, you were not
+attending, and as you have thereby lost the benefit of the excellent
+rendering given us by Martin Secundus, you had better write me out page
+46, both in Latin and English."
+
+"The beast!" Masters had muttered. "Always down on me! Wish I'd never
+come to Ranleigh. Talk about freedom and fair treatment! A fellow's
+down-trodden at this place. That Canning's a tyrant."
+
+But he was whistling within a few minutes, at the end of the lesson, and
+would have forgotten the "impot" but for a reminder addressed by one of
+his fellows. That sent him post-haste to discover Martin Secundus.
+
+"What did you want to give that Canning a rendering for?" he demanded
+roughly, for Martin was of the small order. "See what you've let me in
+for, too! I've got to write out page 46 in Latin and English."
+
+"Sorry, but your own fault," was the retort, small comfort for Masters.
+
+"Oh, my own fault, eh? Look here, Martin, you've landed me into this
+impot and will have to help."
+
+"Have?" smiled the other. "I like that!"
+
+"Like it or not, you'll help," came the answer. "Or----"
+
+"Or what?" demanded Martin, not in the least put out. He wasn't afraid
+of Masters, not in the least, for they had had many a scuffle. He rather
+liked the fellow, as a matter of fact. But "have"--that was a large
+order.
+
+"Or----" began the desperate Masters, and then relapsed into a smile.
+"Oh, look here, Martin, you can do these things standing on your head. I
+hate Latin. It gives me a headache. Come along to my tuck-box. I had a
+hamper arrive last week, and we can talk about the impot while we're
+feeding."
+
+Wise Masters! More than one at Ranleigh had found their way to his
+notice, if not to his friendship, by offering food. And here he was
+using the same method of persuasion. However, the "old firm," as Clive,
+Bert and Hugh, Masters and Susanne had designated themselves, were
+engaged in discussion round the workshop stove, and we must not forget
+them.
+
+"As to Masters," declared Susanne, having been interrupted by that young
+fellow, "as to our friend Masters, he'd probably be found asleep, or at
+the tuck, or washing himself in ink."
+
+The sally brought a howl from the others. Masters was not likely soon to
+be allowed to forget that incident. The mere mention of it roused him
+to a fury. He shot up as if he had been kicked and leaned across to
+strike at Susanne. But Clive cocked a leg on to the top of the stove and
+thereby intercepted him.
+
+"Look here," he began, "do let's talk sense."
+
+"Then you shut up altogether. That's the only way to make it possible,"
+retorted the angered Masters, sitting down with a bang.
+
+"And decide what we're going to do and how it's to be done," went on
+Clive, without notice of the interruption.
+
+"We've decided to go, then?" demanded Bert.
+
+"Rather!" cried Hugh.
+
+"I wouldn't miss the show for worlds," declared Clive.
+
+"There'll be heaps of Frenchmen there," suggested Susanne, with a cool
+shake of his head. "I'm nearly sure to know some of them. That'd mean a
+feed, eh?"
+
+The idea was wonderfully attractive. "Of course," suggested Masters,
+with furrowed brow, "if you didn't know any of them it wouldn't make any
+great difference. They'd be awfully glad to see you, and----"
+
+"Me, yes," agreed Susanne. "But my friends--well, that's a tall order."
+
+There were signs of dissension at once. "But you'd never be such a sneak
+as to accept a feed and leave us in the lurch," blurted out Hugh. "If
+we go, we all go together. If there's a feed----"
+
+"We all feed together," grinned Masters.
+
+"But we aren't there yet," Clive reminded them. "Now, do let's get to
+business. There's to be a meeting of aeroplanists at Guildford. That's
+settled."
+
+They all nodded their agreement. Hugh interrupted further conversation
+for the moment to lift the frizzling apples from the stove and hand one
+to each of the gathering. "Can't talk without eating," he said. "Now
+let's get on with it. There's an aeroplane meeting."
+
+"The old firm's going, lock, stock and barrel," interjected Masters,
+with decision.
+
+"If it can be arranged."
+
+"It can," Clive corrected Bert. "What's to prevent us?"
+
+"The Head! Guildford's out of bounds, in any case. There'd be ructions
+if a Ranleigh boy were found there."
+
+"But one won't, that's just it," asserted Clive. What "it" was exactly
+he failed to explain. However, he soon cleared up the resulting mystery.
+
+"Who's going to be such an ass as to go in a school cap?" he asked
+haughtily. "We'll sneak our bowlers out of store and no one'll be the
+wiser."
+
+"But how are we to get there?" asked Bert. "That's the question we
+started with. Everyone knows there's to be such a show. Guildford's a
+long step away, and the train's out of the question."
+
+"Ah, but you've forgotten Higgins. There's Higgins," Clive reminded
+them.
+
+Yes, there was Higgins, one of those artful, ingratiating scoundrels
+ever the dread of a Headmaster, ever the attraction of fellows at
+school. For this man in question, like many another at other schools
+than Ranleigh, stocked articles contraband at the school but much sought
+after by boys. The master of a sweet-stuff shop, wherein was combined a
+tobacconist business, he could be visited by those who had obtained a
+pass to the village. Stores of cigarettes were obtained from him.
+Susanne, whose bad habits had commenced with a somewhat liberal or free
+education in France prior to coming to England, had no difficulty in
+purchasing there what smokes he required; while one boy of Clive's
+acquaintance had even bought a revolver, though for what purpose even he
+could not say.
+
+"There's Higgins, yes," reflected Clive.
+
+"Who's all serene. He's offered to take us in a brake he can hire. We
+can join him up at the back of the school and none be the wiser. Call
+the trip ten miles there, and the same back. Well, we're on the spot in
+a little more than an hour."
+
+Masters turned a glowing countenance to his friends. But Clive showed
+disapproval.
+
+"An hour or more. What's the use of wasting all that time on the road?
+Let's do the thing in style or not at all. Let's go by motor. Higgins
+can manage that just as easily."
+
+"At a price! He don't forget to open his mouth too."
+
+"Well, what price?"
+
+Clive dragged out all his available coins and counted them carefully.
+
+"Three bob a head by trap. Five, if there's a motor," said Masters. "I
+talked it over with him. Not a bad chap, Higgins. He knows how to keep
+his mouth shut too, which is something."
+
+The discussion waned for a while, for each one of the group was busy
+with his finances. Then all eyes went to Susanne. He was the Croesus
+of the party. Never a day but he had money in abundance, the reason
+being perhaps that his father was a banker.
+
+"Wish mine were," Masters had groaned on more than one occasion. "Then
+I'd have a few coppers to spend now and again, instead of a beggarly
+allowance. My Governor seems to think that a chap hasn't need of cash.
+He rams thrift and economy down my throat till I'm almost afraid to buy
+even a biscuit."
+
+"Five bob a head," said Bert reflectively. "Is it worth it?"
+
+"Is it worth it?" they shouted derisively at him.
+
+"Ever seen an aeroplane?" asked Clive hotly. "Think of being able to say
+we'd watched fellows flying. Besides, we might get up in one ourselves.
+I mean to try."
+
+"And there's the feed," Hugh reminded them.
+
+"Feed? What feed?" demanded Masters eagerly. "Higgins don't include it
+in his price. I tried to make him. Where's the feed?"
+
+"Susanne's, duffer!"
+
+"Mine?" asked the astounded Frenchman. "It's the first I've heard of
+it."
+
+"There's a oner. Never heard of it, when only a minute ago he was
+telling us of his friends and how they'd ask us to lunch with 'em,"
+shouted Masters. "Don't tell us you've forgotten, Susanne."
+
+"Ask _me_ to lunch. I never said a word about you fellows. It was you
+who suggested the thing. Oh, yes, I dare say there'll be a blow-out for
+_me_," said Susanne complacently. "But for you, doubtful. You fellows
+had better sneak some bread and cheese at supper the night before and
+carry a store with you."
+
+He grinned provocatively at them, and then calmly tackled a roasted
+apple. "Yes," he reflected, "I've no doubt I shall meet one friend at
+least. There's Levallois, a flyer. My word, he can fly! He comes from
+Lyons, and'll be awfully glad to see me."
+
+"Us," suggested Masters desperately.
+
+"Me. What's he want to know you for? I shall go off to lunch with him as
+a matter of course. It'll be sickening to leave you fellows, naturally,
+and no one'll be more sorry than I, er--er--or you--but then, there it
+is."
+
+So saying he buried his teeth in the apple, taking not the smallest
+notice of the glaring eyes of his comrades.
+
+"Of all the selfish beggars!" began Masters, whose energy was always
+pronounced when there was a question of food. "Susanne don't deserve to
+come with us. It's sickening to hear him jaw about a feed all for
+himself, and to listen to him advising us to take chunks of bread as
+hard as bricks, and cheese that's only fit for use as cart grease. It's
+simply sickening."
+
+His disgust was great--so great, in fact, that he might have pressed the
+question still further, thereby bringing about a termination of the
+hitherto comparatively pleasant nature of the meeting. But the practical
+Bert intervened.
+
+"What's the use of grousing," he asked, "and gassing about a feed that's
+never been offered? Why, Susanne's friend mayn't be there. He may find
+no one to invite him."
+
+"I shall. Certain," declared that individual, grinning. "If there's one
+Frenchman there, he is my countryman. He pays toll. That's quite
+regular. He'll be awfully glad to meet me."
+
+"Oh, well, then you get an invite. What's it matter? Bread's good enough
+for me so long as I see the fun. Let's settle the matter. Five bob's a
+heap. That Higgins is a Shylock. He'll take every cent from me."
+
+"Same here," asserted Hugh, pulling a face. "I shall be short for the
+rest of the term."
+
+Susanne produced a sovereign. "How much for the lot?" he asked.
+
+"Twenty shillings, and five extra for you," cried Masters.
+
+"Then take it as settled. I'll write home to the people and tell 'em
+I've had heavy calls. A motor's a call, isn't it?" he asked naïvely,
+seeing his friends smile. "I pay the motor. If there isn't a feed, then
+we've something left to buy grub with. How's that? Pass another apple,
+Clive. You hang over them as if the store belonged to you."
+
+It got dusk before they had finished talking. The far ends of the
+workshop were hidden in gloom before they rose from their places about
+the stove. And then there came the sound of a scraping match. A flare
+lit the gloom in the distance. A tall figure stretched upward to a
+swinging lamp and lit the wick. It was Hole, the school's carpentry
+instructor, unchanged after years of service, with an eagle eye for old
+faces and a keen recollection of incidents gone and forgotten by the
+majority. If only every school existing had such a workshop, and made
+attendance there almost compulsory, instead of an extra to be paid for
+by parents! For there, in the workshop provided by Ranleigh, boys
+learned a thousand and one things. Handiness came quickly to them, and
+better than all, perhaps, here was at hand a means to fill many an hour
+which might otherwise have been idle.
+
+Benches down the centre bore a host of tools, while the special property
+of individuals was housed in lockers near the entrance. The stove was
+placed half-way along the shop, and beyond, one entered a second shop
+provided with turning lathes. See Clive there, with the faithful and
+interested Hugh in attendance, both lads working the foot pedal with
+might and main, while dust and shavings whirled about them. Or follow
+them to the blacksmith's shop, an adjacent institution. There, dressed
+in leather aprons, with sleeves tucked to the shoulder, they might be
+seen many and many a time beating out some piece of spluttering metal on
+the anvil. Or the metal-turning lathe held their attention, and they
+slowly and laboriously pounded at the pedal while the hardened tool
+took off shavings at a pace which was slow to the point of exasperation.
+
+But there were days also in this shop when flames and sparks flew up the
+chimney wildly, when either Hugh or Clive, or even Susanne on occasion,
+turned the handle of the mechanical blower. Coke heaped high on the
+hearth glowed redly, while the heat within the shop was stifling.
+Perhaps these conditions existed for an hour; perhaps for longer, Clive
+or the shop instructor ever and again lifting the lid of a crucible
+buried in the glowing coke. And then, with a joyful shout, it was
+announced that the brass was molten. Think, then, of the joy these young
+mechanics experienced. The boxes placed so carefully over in the corner
+had cost them many an hour's labour. Packed with sand, and divided at
+the commencement, the two halves of the moulds fashioned from their own
+patterns were now assembled, and the moment had arrived to pour the
+molten brass into the narrow openings left for that purpose. And imagine
+the impatience of these model-makers awaiting the setting of their
+castings.
+
+Those were the days which Clive enjoyed most. It was after a bout of
+casting that his lessons were worse prepared than on other occasions,
+while drills and "impots" showered upon him.
+
+"Darrell, inattentive again," Old B. would exclaim sadly, as if the
+matter were a personal grief to him. "Half an hour's drill to-morrow."
+
+Or Harvey, the great Harvey, would rouse his curly, shapely head from
+his desk in the middle of prep., strange sounds having disturbed him.
+
+"If that isn't young Darrell again," he'd exclaim testily. "Come here,
+Darrell."
+
+Fearful of the consequences, but unlikely to be robbed of his love of
+mechanics by any amount of punishment, Clive would leave his seat and
+come to the front.
+
+"Well?"
+
+"I--er----"
+
+"What's it this time?"
+
+"Only a wheel. I was just filing it so as to be ready for after school."
+
+The culprit would hand forth a file of gigantic size, and a casting of
+his own making. Prep., Clive had found, was an excellent time for the
+doing of such little jobs. But there was the difficulty of drowning
+noise. Harvey had been annoyed on more than one occasion.
+
+"Oh, only a wheel! Let's see, what was it last time?"
+
+"Another wheel. You see, there are two, and----"
+
+"There generally are two. Look here, Darrell, I'm sick of this nonsense.
+You not only shirk your own work, and get into trouble with your form
+master, but you disturb the other fellows and keep them from work. Come
+along to the Scholars' room after supper. I shall give you a whacking."
+
+And, as a matter of course, Masters would be grinning delightedly as
+Clive went back to his seat, while Hugh or Bert or Susanne would pass
+short notes of compassion to him. Sometimes they were shot over the
+heads of the others in the form of darts, duly labelled with the name of
+Darrell. Or they were passed from hand to hand, or better still, the
+wily Susanne's invention, they were rolled into the shape of a fine
+pencil, inserted in a pea-shooter, and sent hurtling at the head of the
+one for whom the correspondence was intended. Let us record, too, that
+Susanne became an expert with this instrument. Such was his dexterity,
+and such his strength of lung, that with the aid of wet blotting-paper
+rolled into balls, and essentially of red colour, he could actually
+eject them at the high ceilings of the form rooms, where the moist
+condition of the shot caused it to adhere, and--so good was the aim
+after long practice--that with patience and a sufficiency of these moist
+pellets Susanne could write his name on the ceiling. That term many a
+form room ceiling bore in thin lines of red dots the letters Feofé, with
+"Susanne" close alongside in brackets.
+
+But there was the question of the aeroplane meeting to be settled.
+
+"Masters will see Higgins and fix it," Clive explained to Hugh in a
+hoarse whisper, when they were seated at prep. that evening. "It's lucky
+that to-morrow's a saint's day. That'll give us heaps of time, for the
+meeting don't begin till after midday."
+
+Numerous were the notes which passed between Clive and Masters and Hugh
+during that hour and a half's prep. The many items to be settled caused
+the exchange of missives even when they had reached their dormitories,
+and that fascinating, home-made telephone being as yet incomplete, and,
+in fact, stubbornly refusing to work in spite of the scientific aid and
+knowledge of Susanne, they had recourse yet again to the weird series of
+wheels and strings passing over the partition. And, of course, as fate
+would have it on this the most important of occasions, Sturton
+discovered what was happening.
+
+"What the dickens----" he suddenly demanded, swinging round in the chair
+in which he was seated at the dormitory table. "Here, Darrell, up to
+something more? I told you last week I wouldn't have any further
+chucking of notes over the partition. Suppose it's to young Seymour
+again? Bring that note here."
+
+It was a desperate moment. Clive clambered out of bed and stepped
+across to the prefect, the note in his hand.
+
+"Here it is," he said grudgingly, eyeing Sturton askance, for that note
+contained a résumé of the details of their escapade of the morrow.
+Dished up in finished style, as it were, were full particulars of their
+intended movements. Anyone glancing through the scrawly and badly
+spelled lines could not fail but discover the depths of the conspiracy.
+
+     "Higgins is a brick," the words went. "Masters saw him to-night
+     after prep and just before chapel and Higgins said he was reddy and
+     didn't want twenty five bob but twenty and that's awfully decent of
+     him and the car's going to be wating over by the windmil at twelve.
+     Won't it be ripping, eh. There's heaps of room for the lot of us
+     and Higgins'll have smokes. Susanne says they're nesessary to him
+     and'll make him look like a blud, and Higgins knows a shop where we
+     can get a blow out for next to nothing. There a bob each to pay to
+     go into the plais where the aroplaynes fly, but Higgins can manage
+     to pass us in free as his frend's the gatekeeper. So all's serene
+     and to-morrow'll be ripping.
+
+     "THE FIRM."
+
+That was the communication. Sturton handled it and turned it over
+curiously. As a matter of fact, he was rather amused at these notes so
+constantly passing. It not being so very long since he himself was a
+youngster, he had a friendly recollection of his own eccentricities.
+
+"What's this?" he asked sternly, causing the pyjamaed Clive to quake.
+"One would think you young donkeys hadn't a chance for gassing during
+the daytime. As it is, I know this sort of thing goes on the whole of
+prep. time. Look here, Darrell, an hour's drill to-morrow."
+
+An hour's drill. Why, that meant that Clive, with a number of other
+forlorn individuals subjected to the same punishment for their various
+crimes, would have to assemble in the quad after dinner, and there be
+marched to and fro and round and round by a prefect as weary of the task
+as they were. At least, that was the general rule. Sometimes the
+commander of this squad was a martinet. Sometimes the master for the
+week wreaked his vengeance on boys in general and these unhappy wights
+in particular by taking the quad himself, or standing at the entrance to
+the quad, his mere presence stimulating the prefect till the boys
+undergoing punishment groaned at the numerous orders to "right wheel,"
+"left wheel," "form line," "form fours." Form every sort of formation
+that the drill-book allows for or the fertile mind of an ingenious
+prefect can devise. And Canning was the master for the week, and
+Rawlings the brute of a prefect who would be on duty on the morrow.
+
+Clive groaned and shivered.
+
+"But to-morrow's a saint's day, Sturton," he ventured in tones of
+protest.
+
+"All the better. You'll want something to do. Time hangs heavy with you
+youngsters on saints' days. A drill'll keep you out of mischief."
+
+"But----"
+
+"What's in this precious note?" asked Sturton, holding it up to the
+gaslight. "Secrets? Let's see 'em."
+
+He handed the note to Clive and invited him to open the folded paper.
+That young fellow went a sickly yellow colour. The drill could be got
+over, he reflected. He could miss it. He'd have to do it every day
+after, that was certain, and Sturton might invite Harvey to give him a
+slogging. But the cause was worth this sacrifice. But to open the note
+and show Sturton the contents meant wrecking the whole affair.
+
+"It's private," he managed to say at length.
+
+"Oh, private, and awfully important. Let's see."
+
+In one second Sturton fell in Clive's eyes from the giddy pinnacle on
+which he had been placed. "Never thought he could be such a cad. Opening
+fellows' letters. Beastly dodge!" thought Clive, glowering on him.
+
+"Here, open it and read," said Sturton severely.
+
+"It's private."
+
+"Can't help that. Read it."
+
+"It's private, I tell you."
+
+Clive was distinctly angry and stubborn.
+
+"Oh!" Sturton looked him up and down, his brow furrowed. He had not the
+smallest intention of opening the note himself, nor even of listening to
+its contents. He was merely gauging Clive's character. "Then you won't?"
+he asked coolly.
+
+"No, I won't."
+
+"You know what to expect, eh?"
+
+"Yes. I don't care."
+
+"Look here, Darrell, don't be a donkey. Fellows don't look at other
+chaps' notes, or listen to secrets. You're right not to split. Get back
+to bed. Promise not to send any more and I'll let you off the drill."
+
+"Not after this one," said Clive. "It's important."
+
+Sturton grinned. He could thoroughly sympathise, and he rather liked
+Clive for his show of obstinacy.
+
+"Pitch it over then," he said, "and let it be the last. I'll whack you
+if you break your promise."
+
+"But a chap can telephone, and we'll have to work like niggers to get
+that thing going," said Clive, when he had whispered to Susanne.
+
+"That won't be sending notes. I wouldn't break a promise to anyone,
+least of all to Sturton. He's a decent fellow."
+
+The morrow found the Old Firm jubilant and expectant. They slipped off
+after Chapel, raced down to the common and espied a panting car over by
+the windmill. All together they changed their school caps for bowlers
+and donned their overcoats. Susanne and Masters, who always did these
+things in superior style, had donned the tallest of tall collars, while
+the former had blossomed forth with an eyeglass. And we are bound to
+confess that Susanne thus decked out made quite a handsome and
+impressive foreigner. Masters had the appearance of a third-rate actor,
+for, as we have said, his collar was of the highest, while his fancy
+waistcoat would have roused the envy of a Cockney. Patent leather boots,
+spats, and a cane of huge proportions completed a turn-out which was
+distinctly startling. However, who thought of that, for were they not
+off on an expedition which promised huge excitement?
+
+"I mean to get a lift in one of the machines," said Clive deliberately.
+
+"While Susanne ain't forgot his promise," interjected Masters.
+
+"Promise!" exclaimed the gallant Frenchman.
+
+"A blow-out," Masters reminded him.
+
+"For me--yes. Rather!" came the tantalising answer.
+
+"All aboard!" cried the rascal who was to drive them. "Ready? Then off
+we go!"
+
+The engine roared. The clutch went in with a jerk. The car bounded off
+for Guildford and the long-anticipated flying meeting which the Old Firm
+had determined to patronise.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+BREAKING BOUNDS
+
+
+Never before did a distinguished party of strangers come to the ancient
+town of Guildford more jubilant. Heads were craned over the side of the
+car which the ruffian Higgins had provided, staring eyes looked in all
+directions, but mainly skyward.
+
+"Perhaps we'll see 'em flying," suggested Clive breathlessly, for his
+mechanical mind was stirred to the highest pitch by the thought of
+seeing men launched into the air.
+
+"Hold hard!" shouted Masters, whose quick eye had lighted on something
+decidedly alluring, and who was ever alert to make the very utmost of
+the smallest opportunity. "Hold hard!" he almost shouted as the car
+crawled jerkily along the high street and past a pastry-cook's window,
+in which were displayed a tempting mass of tarts and cakes. It was like
+this greedy fellow. When food was about, when it happened to be anywhere
+within sight or scent, he had not a soul above eating. What mattered it
+if there were an aeroplane meeting? What did he care if men were to
+fly? Food was food, and Masters had always a healthy hunger.
+
+"You chaps," he began, "here's our chance. If we miss it, ten to one
+we'll be hanging about without so much as a crumb, and I'm jolly empty."
+
+"But--but, Susanne's friend is going to stand a feed," Hugh reminded
+them. "Don't forget that."
+
+Masters pooh-poohed the suggestion, though on the previous day he had
+waxed indignant at the thought that such a treat could not be in store.
+He had called Susanne a sneak. Now, with those alluring cakes within his
+ken, he chose to forget what had happened. Also there was such a thing
+as remembering the saying, "A bird in the hand is worth two in the
+bush." Masters had coins in his pocket, thanks again to Susanne, and, as
+we have said, he had a perennial appetite.
+
+"Blow Susanne's feed!" he declared. "If it comes off, all the better. I
+for one'll be ready. But I'm famishing now. So stop her."
+
+The band descended straightway, and without much need for further
+persuasion. When they mounted the car again sundry well-filled bags
+accompanied them. Then on to the field. Crowds were making their way
+thither on foot, others in motors and traps. Outside the gates there
+was a seething mass of people, through whom Higgins drove the car at
+reckless speed. And then the gates opened. They were passed in after a
+nod and a few words between Higgins and the gatekeeper.
+
+"Look out! Duck!" whispered Bert, suddenly, in hoarse tones of alarm.
+"Bothered if that isn't Old B. Duck, I tell you."
+
+With one accord the car load bent their heads till it appeared as if one
+and all were engaged with their boot laces. Clive glanced askance into
+the crowd, and there beheld the tall, bulky form of Mr. Branson, his
+dormitory master. The sight of that tall, genial giant set him quaking.
+Not that Mr. Branson was at all of the fierce order. Rather, he was an
+easy-going fellow, who had as perfect an understanding of boys as ever
+master had. But he could be roused to anger--anger which as a rule
+resulted in the bestowal of a cuff, for Mr. Branson took the law into
+his own hands as a rule, and did not favour sending boys to the
+Headmaster with one of those short, explanatory notes which resulted in
+a caning. No, Old B. was a good, slow, well-meaning giant whom all
+adored, and none more so than Clive. But he feared him also.
+
+"Old B.," he murmured. "Old B. right enough, and looking this way."
+
+"Seen us?" asked Bert desperately.
+
+"Never!" declared Masters. "He's too sleepy for that."
+
+"Then he's spotted the car," suggested Susanne. "He'd know it, as he and
+others of the masters use it at times. What's he doing?"
+
+"Gone off into the crowd. Looked awfully hard at this car," said Clive,
+suppressing a shiver. "Smiled, that tired sort of smile of his, and then
+cut off in the opposite direction."
+
+The statement brought all heads to their normal elevation again, while
+questioning glances were cast first at the crowd, now left behind, and
+then at one another.
+
+"What did Old B. mean by that, then?" asked Bert, after a painful pause.
+"Stared awfully hard, and then sloped off."
+
+"As if to avoid us. As if he guessed there were Ranleigh boys in the car
+and didn't want to spot 'em," suggested Clive.
+
+"Good Old B.! Just like him," cried Masters, regaining his composure,
+for the sudden information that Mr. Branson was in the neighbourhood and
+eyeing them had thrown him into a flutter.
+
+"More impots," he had groaned inwardly. "More drills, and a whacking as
+a matter of course. Ranleigh's an awful place for a fellow to be sent
+to. Tyrants, the whole lot of 'em!"
+
+"In any case, he's here, and means to watch the flying. A beastly
+nuisance," reflected Susanne. "Of course, we shall have to keep our eyes
+open. But I know a dodge to beat him. I'll look out for Levallois, and
+if he's here, why, he'll invite us to his hangar. Old B.'ll never dare
+to enter."
+
+Thus relieved for the time being of their fears the party tumbled out of
+the car, and having agreed with Higgins to meet him precisely two and a
+half hours later, struck across the huge field in which the meeting was
+taking place toward the half-dozen hangars in which the flying machines
+were housed.
+
+"That's Levallois'," said Susanne, pointing to one over which the flag
+of France flew. "I'll cross direct."
+
+"But--but you can't," Bert told him, for Bert was one of those youths
+who somewhat lack assurance. He had a huge respect for authority and
+order. He often envied Masters his cheek, and Clive and Hugh the dash
+and persistence which carried them through difficulties. "You can't,
+Susanne. The place is roped off, and there are scores of police."
+
+"Can't! You wait," laughed the Frenchman. "See that bobby. Looks a good
+chap, eh? See me get round him."
+
+They allowed the voluble Frenchman to go ahead of them a few paces, as
+if he were not attached to the party, and watched with breathless
+interest as he nonchalantly ducked under the ropes which kept the crowd
+back. Susanne, his monocle in position, strolled away across the
+enclosure.
+
+"Hi! You stand back there!" came the summons from the nearest constable.
+"Get out of the enclosure, please."
+
+Susanne might have been deaf. It was not until the officer of the law
+actually had his hand upon his shoulder that the young fellow showed the
+smallest attention to his order. And then, in the inimitable style of
+Feofé, a style somewhat spoiled by the jeers and laughter of his
+schoolfellows, but nevertheless a style which was part and parcel of the
+young fellow, Susanne raised his hat and swept it from his head. In
+wonder and amazement his comrades heard him addressing the constable in
+French, speaking volubly, waving his arms, pointing to the hangars
+opposite. And then he dived into a waistcoat pocket and produced a card.
+
+"What's this?" demanded the constable, a young man, evidently puzzled.
+"Can't read it. You're French, eh?"
+
+Susanne nodded energetically. He beckoned to Masters, and at the signal
+that young fellow dived beneath the rope and ran to join him. At once
+Susanne fired off a string of words, totally unintelligible to the
+constable, and mostly so to Masters, who was no great French scholar.
+But he knew what Susanne wanted, and knew also what he and his friends
+required. Also Masters was just the youth to carry a matter like this
+through in splendid style. He had cheek enough for a dozen.
+
+"It's like this, don't you see, constable," he said, smiling sweetly at
+the officer. "Monsieur Feofé--that's French, you know--Monsieur Feofé
+comes from France, where all the flying's done, and Monsieur Levallois's
+one of the flyers. That's his shed over there, with the French flag over
+it. Well, of course, Monsieur Levallois expects Monsieur Feofé and his
+friends. We've come here to see him. He wants us over at his place, you
+see. I'm sorry you can't understand Monsieur Feofé. But that's the worst
+of these fellows who can't speak English."
+
+An older constable might even have been taken in, though to be sure he
+might have noticed the half-suppressed grins on the faces of the party
+of young fellows stationed by the ropes. Also he would certainly have
+been surprised at the youth of these visitors. But he was a young man,
+on duty almost for the first time, and somewhat confused.
+
+"I've got my orders, strict," he began.
+
+"Of course, of course!" interjected Masters hurriedly. "Of course,
+constable, orders to keep the crowd back. Quite right for you to obey
+'em. But we're not the crowd. You see, Monsieur Feofé's a swell sort of
+fellow. It'd be rude to refuse to pass him and his friends through. He
+wouldn't understand it. Monsieur Levallois would be furious, and I dare
+say the inspector in charge of the police'd get a wiggin'. So it'll be
+all right, see?"
+
+That young constable wasn't by any means too sure. But Susanne's
+apparent ignorance of English, his obvious impatience at this delay, his
+embarrassing politeness, for he continued to sweep his hat from his head
+on occasion, while firing off a long string of unintelligible words at
+Masters, all had their effect. The man wavered.
+
+"My orders is to pass no one----" he began again.
+
+"Come on, you chaps," sang out Masters, whose cheek was tremendous. "The
+constable understands. We'd best hurry, for Monsieur Levallois is
+waiting. Thanks, constable. If there's any trouble refer the inspector
+to me. Sorry to have bothered you."
+
+The arm of the law passed them through, reluctantly and doubtfully. It
+was as much as Hugh and Clive could do to suppress their mirth till out
+of hearing of the policeman, and Susanne's behaviour made the task even
+more difficult. For that young fellow heartily enjoyed every item in
+this manoeuvre. He bowed low to the constable, covering that unhappy
+and uncomfortable young fellow with blushes. He swept his hat from his
+head for perhaps the twentieth time, and rattled off his thanks in
+French. And then, following sedately across the field, he looked about
+him with inimitable coolness, and turned to survey the gathering crowds
+through his monocle, which was still screwed into his eye.
+
+"Of all the cheek!" gasped Bert, to whom such an adventure was a
+revelation. "Come on, Susanne. Old B.'ll spot you the instant his eyes
+fall on you. Do stop fooling and come along!"
+
+"Grand!" declared Clive, thoroughly enjoying the entertainment. "That
+bobby was finely flustered. But, I say, supposing Levallois won't have
+anything to say to us. I've heard that lots of these flying fellows get
+pestered with people in their hangars and throw them all out. Supposing
+Levallois don't want us."
+
+"Supposing he ain't there," grinned Hugh, bringing up another
+difficulty.
+
+The suggestions caused the little band to close in as if for mutual
+protection.
+
+"Well?" asked Bert desperately. "Supposing Levallois isn't over there,
+or don't want us?"
+
+Susanne's serenity was undisturbed.
+
+"There's some sort of a Frenchman, anyway," he observed. "He'll be glad
+to see me in any case. Of course, if he don't want you fellows, it'll
+be awkward--for you."
+
+He grinned openly at them till Masters could have struck him. It was
+perhaps just as well that a stop was put to the argument at that moment
+by the wheeling out of an aeroplane from one of the hangars. That set
+the party hurrying till they arrived at the line of sheds. Here there
+was much movement. Officials came and went, more than one eyeing the
+boys with evident suspicion. An important-looking inspector of police
+was posted adjacent to the very hangar over which the French flag flew,
+and promptly pounced upon them.
+
+"What's this?" he asked severely. "No one but gentlemen flying, their
+mechanics and managers are allowed here. What fool's broken orders by
+passing you in?"
+
+But again Susanne and Masters saved the situation, the one by his
+embarrassing politeness and his volubility, the other by his specious
+explanation.
+
+"Oh, Levallois, that's the French gentleman's name, is it?" asked the
+inspector, mollified, but not entirely convinced. "Well, if he says that
+he's asked you here, suppose you must stay. But none of the other flying
+gents are having friends, least of all youngsters. Still, we don't want
+to be rough on a foreigner. He might not understand. Here, sir," he
+called, putting his head into the hangar over which the French flag
+flew, "here's a parcel of young gents come to see you; and some of
+them's out for a lark, I'll bet."
+
+A smile stole across his face. Masters' get-up was perfectly ludicrous.
+As to his fellows, not one but wore his obvious youth in awkward manner,
+save and excepting Susanne. The composure of that young fellow was
+wonderful. He stepped into the hangar, leaving his comrades outside to
+listen in trepidation to his conversation with its invisible owner. It
+was with a sigh of relief that they saw him appear at the door and
+beckon.
+
+"It isn't Levallois, after all," he grinned, "but Dubonnet. But it's all
+right and square, Monsieur Dubonnet's a sportsman. Come into the place
+and feed. He's going to have a meal now, for the wind's too high as yet
+for flying."
+
+Masters' eyes were wide open with amazement. Bert could hardly believe
+his ears. As for Hugh and Clive they were bubbling over with excitement.
+Nor were they intensely astonished. The latter, at any rate, had seen so
+much of Susanne as to convince him that what that young fellow took in
+hand he accomplished. For Feofé had that happy knack of winning
+friendship, a knack which it behoves all to acquire. Also he was far
+more at his ease with his elders than any of the others. It seemed
+almost natural, therefore, to Clive that he should have brought about
+this introduction. Clive bobbed to the young fellow whom Susanne
+presented, and then, forgetting all else, stepped up to the aeroplane
+and began with Hugh's help a close and critical examination. Then a call
+from the smiling owner sent the two of them to the far corner where a
+board table was erected, with a ham and a joint of beef upon it,
+together with other items.
+
+"Help yourselves, gentlemen," said Monsieur Dubonnet. "Accident has
+given me friends to-day, and I needed them. Now, let's get the meal
+started and then tell me how you managed this business. I suppose you're
+from Ranleigh?"
+
+"Yes," admitted Masters, his mouth already half filled with ham, his
+eyes protruding at the directness of the question.
+
+"Know it?" asked Clive.
+
+"Rather! There myself, you see. Breaking bounds, eh? Well, I don't blame
+you. But, by the way, I'm expecting one of the masters. My old dormitory
+master, you know--Old B. Know him? Of course you do."
+
+The bombshell produced an impressive and painful silence. Masters looked
+desperately across at the door. Even Susanne reddened, and then Monsieur
+Dubonnet relieved the tension by laughing uproariously.
+
+"Had you all badly," he grinned. "All the same, Old B.'ll be paying me
+a visit. But we'll make that right. There's a place screened off at the
+back of the hangar and you can get cover there. I'll post one of you
+fellows to watch at the door."
+
+And so for the following hour they took it in turn to watch.
+The meal finished, Clive and Hugh plied Monsieur Dubonnet with
+questions--questions, too, of such an intelligent nature that they
+aroused his interest. Indeed, the enthusiasm of these young fellows
+gained for them an invitation to try a flight.
+
+"You'll like it awfully," declared Monsieur Dubonnet. "Of course, one
+feels scared at first, but that's natural. Accidents do happen at times,
+I know, but I don't think you need be fearful."
+
+It was with beating hearts that our two young friends, half an hour
+later, smuggled themselves into the cab mounted on the machine. Two
+mechanics appeared and wheeled it from the shed, while Susanne and the
+others kept carefully in the background.
+
+"See you later," sang out Bert.
+
+"Alive or dead," grinned Masters, who was envying Hugh and Clive
+greatly. "Think of me, Darrell, when you're falling."
+
+But no amount of chaff had any effect on our two amateur flyers. The
+starting of the engine brought the red to their cheeks. The rush of air
+over their heads sent their pulses dancing. The roar of the exhaust
+passed almost unnoticed as the machine started forward. And then up they
+went, swooping over the heads of the people gathered to watch the
+flying. We need not record here their impressions. Suffice it to say
+that a very proud and gratified couple at length descended from the
+machine and joined their comrades.
+
+"Time to be off," Masters reminded them. "Higgins'll be wondering what's
+happened. And besides, if we don't move soon we shall be late for
+call-over."
+
+Taking care to view their surroundings before issuing from the hangar,
+and having volubly thanked the great Dubonnet for his kindness, the
+little party made their way across the enclosure, under the ropes, and
+so to the spot where the car was to await them. There was no Higgins
+there on their arrival, but a search discovered him in an adjacent booth
+where refreshments were provided.
+
+"Looks as if he'd had his full share too," Hugh whispered to Clive.
+"Suppose he can drive?"
+
+"Hope so," was the laconic answer, though there was doubt in the tones.
+For Higgins had been refreshing himself with a vengeance. He was none
+too steady as he issued from the booth and leered at his passengers.
+However, there was no doing anything in the matter.
+
+"The beast!" growled Bert in tones of disgust. "I've always disliked
+Higgins, and I hate him now. If it hadn't been for the fact that he
+could get the use of the car and so make it possible for us to come to
+this meeting, I'd never have consented. The brute's drunk."
+
+"No, not quite," corrected Susanne. "But the drive home'll be exciting."
+
+It proved to be filled to repletion with excitement, for Higgins scooped
+through the town of Guildford as if police did not exist and pedestrians
+had no right to the pavements. His course was followed by howls of rage
+from passers-by, to all of which he paid no notice. He sent the car
+whizzing out into the country, and dashed along the high-road at giddy
+speed, while Clive and his fellows clung to their seats as best they
+could.
+
+"Settling down nicely to it," reflected Susanne, after a while, for it
+took a great deal to shake the coolness of the French youth. Indeed, he
+seemed rather to have enjoyed the recklessness of the driver. "He don't
+steer into the footpath quite so often, and he isn't going so fast. In
+another twenty minutes we ought to be back near the common."
+
+"And mighty glad I'll be too," admitted Bert. "Of all the brutes, this
+Higgins is the biggest. But he does seem to be settling down. No, he
+doesn't. He's putting on the pace again."
+
+"Racing," ejaculated Masters, as if the admission pained him. "Look,
+there's a car ahead and Higgins means to pass it."
+
+Perhaps a quarter of a mile ahead they could see the back of another
+car, one, too, with which the boys of Ranleigh were familiar. For they
+knew it to be one of the three which plied for hire in the
+neighbourhood.
+
+"Slow as a beetle. We'll beat 'em easy," declared Hugh, stimulated by
+the thought of a race.
+
+"Walk past it if Higgins can manage to steer decently," agreed Clive.
+
+"Shove her ahead," cried Susanne, springing to his feet and leaning over
+the driver. "Keep her straight, Higgins. Now, let her go. We'll beat
+those other fellows into a cocked hat. Hullo, they're looking back."
+
+There were two passengers in the vehicle in front, and at this moment
+they looked behind them, and then turned to urge their own driver to
+greater speed.
+
+"Whew! Did you recognise 'em?" asked Hugh, staring after the other car.
+
+"Who?" demanded Clive.
+
+"Those fellows?"
+
+"No. Why?"
+
+"Ranleighans," said Hugh with conviction. "Spotted them at once."
+
+"Rawlings and Trendall," declared Susanne. "I knew that it was they all
+along. Just fancy catching a prefect breaking bounds! Saw 'em at the
+flying meeting. They were in that booth with Higgins, and slipped out
+when I went in to fetch him. Anyway, they can't give us away. We're all
+in the same boat this time, though if it had been different, and
+Rawlings could have caught us out, there'd have been trouble. We've got
+him nicely this time."
+
+If it were in fact the two mentioned in the car ahead, then Clive and
+his friends need have no fear of the consequences of recognition. For
+what a prefect can do, that also can smaller fry. Also, if Rawlings had
+broken bounds with Trendall, then his lips were sealed.
+
+"Hooray! He's bound to hold his tongue," cried Masters; "and if he tries
+it on with any of us after this, why, we've only to rake this matter up.
+Now let's whop his car, and pass 'em. Go ahead, Higgins."
+
+Higgins needed no encouragement, and to speak the truth the cold air
+seemed to have steadied him. There were now few of those frightful
+swervings to which he had treated his passengers earlier on. He kept the
+centre of the road, and accelerated his engine till the car dithered and
+vibrated from end to end. As to the driver of the car ahead, he jerked
+at sundry levers, opened his throttle and tried to make the best of
+what was a hopeless case. Gradually he was being overhauled. He cast a
+glance desperately over his shoulder and again jerked at his levers. But
+all to no purpose. Higgins' car drew abreast, then level, in which
+position the two cars thundered along for a while, the two sets of
+passengers glaring at one another.
+
+"Hooray! We win!" shouted Masters, half standing and grimacing at
+Trendall.
+
+"Pass them! Pass them!" bellowed Susanne, waving his arms in truly
+French style. And then he must needs lift his hat. The action set
+Rawlings scowling. He was angry enough already at the thought that he, a
+prefect, had been discovered in the act of breaking bounds, discovered
+too by a group of boys who held him as an enemy. And now to be passed by
+them in a race was more than he could put up with.
+
+"Stop that racing!" he shouted. "There'll be an accident. Order your
+fellow to slack down and let us go ahead."
+
+"Order your own," responded Masters, careless of the consequences.
+"We've as much right to go fast as you have. Fall behind. You're the
+slower car."
+
+Rawlings shook a big fist at them. Susanne acknowledged the threat by
+once more ironically lifting his hat. Masters grimaced at his
+seniors. And Higgins stirred his car to even greater efforts. They
+shot ahead, leaving the occupants of the rival car fuming with rage. All
+heads were turned to watch them. Faces were reddened with excitement,
+and eyes shone at the thought of such a brilliant victory. A hoarse
+cheer was even uttered by Clive and his friends, a reckless cheer, just
+to let Rawlings know what they thought of him and how little they
+feared. And then all gave vent to a howl of dismay. For, of a sudden,
+something went wrong with the following car. It swerved to one side,
+recovered a straight line, and then turned into the pathway. A moment
+later the rear end had risen into the air, and as Clive and the others
+watched, first Rawlings, then Trendall were tossed out into a dense mass
+of bushes lining the path. The driver followed them, smashing his way
+through the glass wind screen. They heard his body thud to the ground,
+while the up-turned car fell on him. Their shouts and shrieks caused
+Higgins to cram his brakes on and bring their own vehicle to a
+standstill. A minute later they were gathered about the up-turned car.
+
+[Illustration: "FIRST RAWLINGS THEN TRENDALL WERE TOSSED OUT INTO A
+DENSE MASS OF BUSHES."]
+
+"Quick! Pull it off him," commanded Susanne, seemingly as cool as a
+cucumber. "Now, all together. Ah! He's killed."
+
+"Killed?" It was Rawlings who asked the question, his lips bloodless,
+his knees almost knocking. "Killed? Then--then what happens? Do we have
+to appear?"
+
+It was like him to think first of himself, and not of the unfortunate
+man. But the question he had asked was one which was bound to be asked.
+It was one which intimately concerned one and all of the boys of
+Ranleigh who had broken bounds. They turned from the body of the man to
+one another.
+
+"I'm awfully sorry for that poor chap," said Susanne at last. "As for
+us, we're in for it, eh?"
+
+"Absolutely," agreed Masters. "Right in the soup."
+
+"Unless----" began Rawlings.
+
+"Unless what?" asked Clive curtly.
+
+"Unless we can get out of the mess by----"
+
+"Telling lies?" asked Hugh, backing Clive up swiftly.
+
+Rawlings nodded ever so little.
+
+"Thanks, Rawlings," said Susanne coldly. "You and Trendall do as you
+like. We'll be getting onward."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+HONESTY'S THE BEST POLICY
+
+
+The short run from the spot where the poor fellow driving the rival car
+in which Rawlings and Trendall had been passengers had met with his
+death was anything but a pleasant experience for Clive and his comrades.
+In the first place, Higgins, hitherto reckless as to his driving, now
+went at a snail's pace, as if he were in a funeral procession. And then
+there were two additional passengers in the car. The boys eyed one
+another in silence. Susanne, as if to break the spell, and careless now,
+as ever, of the lost authority of Rawlings, fixed his monocle upon that
+worthy reflectively.
+
+"Best 'op as soon as we gets to the common," suddenly cried Higgins over
+his shoulder. They heard the brake grind. The car came to a standstill.
+Then the rascally driver turned upon them, thrust his cap to the back of
+his head and invited all to listen.
+
+"See 'ere, young gents," he began. "Just at this point you gets off and
+'ops it up to the school."
+
+"Yes." Susanne answered him in a mono-syllable, though his brows were
+furrowed and his eyes scowling. Rawlings slid from the car, and Trendall
+likewise. Then the others followed, till they were gathered around the
+bonnet.
+
+"Well?" demanded Susanne curtly.
+
+"And jest at this 'ere point I goes right off to the village. See?"
+
+"No," declared Susanne and Clive together, obstinately determined to
+give the fellow no encouragement, for they guessed at what was coming.
+
+"There isn't anything to see," said Bert coldly. "The thing's plain.
+You're here at this spot. We divide. You go off to the village and there
+give information to the police."
+
+"That's just where you're off it," cried Higgins at once, savagely, "and
+don't you get a layin' down the law to me, Mr. Seymour. I 'ops it to the
+village, and I says nothing. I leaves it to the police to find out
+what's happened. I didn't cause that accident. It was the steering gear
+that broke and upset the car. So it's no fault of mine. You ain't fools,
+you young gents?"
+
+"No," declared Rawlings eagerly, for he was listening.
+
+"Certainly not," ventured Trendall.
+
+"Depends," said Susanne. "Go on."
+
+"And no one knows as Mister Rawlings and Mr. Trendall were on that car.
+Yer see, it's only them as you've got to think of. It ain't known as
+they was there. My car don't come into the question. So I says, just
+'ere we 'ops it and says nothing."
+
+"Quite so. Hear, hear!" cried Rawlings, plucking up a vestige of
+courage.
+
+"And supposing we're asked," demanded Masters, looking Rawlings coolly
+up and down till that immaculate young fellow felt intensely
+uncomfortable. "Eh?"
+
+"We know nothing," said Rawlings and Higgins together.
+
+"Nothing whatever," declared the latter with emphasis. "Not a word. We
+wasn't out on the car. We wasn't at the meeting. We don't know nuffin'
+about the death of that poor cove."
+
+"And why should we?" chimed in Trendall. "We're not responsible. It
+isn't as if he had been murdered. The car overturned, and Rawlings and I
+were jolly lucky. The police won't need any explanation. There! That
+satisfies you, eh?"
+
+Clive Darrell went a dull red as he listened to this conversation. He
+had forgotten for the moment the fact that Old B. had seen the car at
+the meeting, and that he alone could put the police on the right track
+if information were needed. To Clive it did not seem that there was any
+other action than a straight one. For supposing some other driver of a
+motor-car were accused of having caused this fatal accident? It was
+quite possible. Then the position would be dreadful. And in any case,
+though he was ready for a lark at any time, and would doubtless break
+bounds on many another occasion, still he wasn't going to lie to save
+his own skin or that of Higgins, Trendall, or Rawlings.
+
+"Come on, Susanne," he said coldly, tucking his arm within his friend's.
+
+"Good day, Higgins."
+
+"Good day," repeated Masters, linking his arm in Clive's.
+
+"Er, good evening," cried Bert and Hugh together.
+
+"'Ere! Stop!" shouted Higgins, his face aflame with passion.
+
+"Well?" asked Susanne placidly; for he had the most even of tempers.
+
+"Do I understand as you four's a goin' ter give us three way?" demanded
+the ruffianly Higgins, squaring up to them in threatening manner, while
+the Old Firm stood arm in arm watching him closely. "Eh?"
+
+"You have managed to gather something of our meaning, at any rate,"
+replied Susanne, without raising his voice in the slightest.
+
+"Then you're going to give information yourselves?" asked Rawlings, two
+spots of red colour in his otherwise pallid cheeks, his eyes blazing.
+
+"In other words, you're going to act like a parcel of fools and sneaks,"
+shouted Trendall, his temper aroused like that of Higgins'.
+
+"One moment?" asked Susanne coolly. "You really take the words out of my
+mouth. Our action will be decided after discussion. If the police want
+information, as seems certain, we shall volunteer it. I am not quite
+sure that we shall not at once report the circumstances. In any case, we
+do not intend to lie. As for you, Rawlings and Trendall--you must do as
+you like. Your movements and your actions have no interest for me and
+these other fellows."
+
+"You mean, then, that if you're asked who were in that other car you
+won't say?" demanded Rawlings eagerly, breathlessly in fact.
+
+"Certainly, that is, if the request comes from the school authorities.
+If from the police it is a different matter. Now you know. Lie as much
+as you care to yourself. This firm don't go in for dirty behaviour of
+that sort."
+
+The great and placid Susanne carefully focussed his monocle upon the
+figure of the prefect, regarded him, from the sole of his dusty boots to
+the crown of his somewhat damaged bowler, with something akin to scorn,
+and then set out for the school with his comrades. They left the trio
+behind them in earnest conversation, a conversation which, before it was
+ended, became somewhat heated. Nor did it bode much good to Clive and
+his comrades. It may be said, indeed, that all Rawlings' vindictiveness
+was centred upon the young fellow who lived so close to him at home. But
+in the case of Trendall we are bound to confess that the condition of
+his mind was essentially wavering. To commence with, at heart he was a
+better and a more generous-minded fellow than Rawlings. And then, try as
+he might, he could not forget his indebtedness to Susanne. Rawlings had
+chided him for it. He had argued against that feeling as unnatural.
+
+"Feel as if you ought to be grateful!" he had scoffed now on many an
+occasion, for he was ever fearful of losing the alliance. Rawlings had,
+indeed, felt the coldness of his fellows for many a day after that
+episode on the ice. Fellows who had been quite content to know him
+before, to be even jovial with him, though never actually friendly, were
+now always busy when he happened to accost them, and hurried off. Or
+they turned cold looks upon him, which sent him off with his tail
+between his legs and his lips muttering. Trendall might do the same.
+Susanne and his friends had helped to save his life. Trendall had even
+thanked them, though lamely it must be admitted.
+
+"Call that saving your life! Rot!" Rawlings had told him. "What
+followed? For a week and more the chaps were never tired of hooting you.
+They told you that you had acted like a muff. That you had nearly
+drowned the whole party. And now you speak of gratitude, and to fellows
+such as they are."
+
+It was always the memory of the uncomfortable and indisputable fact that
+Ranleighans had jeered at him that turned all Trendall's better
+intentions and feelings to gall and wormwood. Hyper-sensitive where his
+own dignity was concerned, and having for a long while had perforce to
+put up with a great deal of chaff, he had found, up to that affair of
+the ice, that friendship with Rawlings improved his position. There are
+snobs in every school, we suppose. Rawlings was decidedly one. Trendall
+was, perhaps, another. In any case, alliance with Rawlings had brought
+him comfort and affluence, for his friend was blessed with even more
+money than was the case with Susanne. And chaff had ceased, for Rawlings
+was free with his hands and feet. But that ice episode had set fellows
+jeering. Trendall forgot a natural gratitude to Susanne and his friends
+in the bitterness of the ridicule poured on him, and this, fanned by
+Rawlings, made him almost as great an enemy as was that immaculate but
+detestable young fellow.
+
+"So we sticks together, eh?" asked Higgins, as the trio were about to
+separate. "If them young sneaks says as you was in that car, I says you
+wasn't. If I'm axed who was there, why, I don't know."
+
+A ponderous wink and an ugly leer accompanied this statement.
+
+"But I knows who was along with me, oh, yes, I knows all about that. I
+was going to Guildford shopping, yes, and these here youngsters sees me
+and asks for a ride. I gives it to 'em. Yes. That's right. And their
+names is Feofé, Masters, Darrell and two Seymours. You're clear, Mr.
+Rawlings. Thank ye, sir. Sovereigns is useful every time. You say as
+there'll be another by the end of the week?"
+
+"When my allowance comes; but on conditions."
+
+"In course. Conditions that I gives them young sneaks away and knows
+nothing about you."
+
+The conspiracy thus hatched boded ill for Clive and his fellows, for
+when one began to analyse the circumstances of the case, it would be
+their word against that of Higgins. Whereas he stated that they had
+hailed him on the road, their statement would be that he had taken them
+by arrangement. If they said in addition that Rawlings and Trendall were
+in the second car, Higgins would strenuously deny the statement, and
+there again there would be conflict of testimony, which would be useless
+to convict either of the two. Gold had, in fact, won over the rascally
+Higgins, just as it may win over any similar scoundrel. Rawlings felt
+that his money had been well expended, and he followed Clive and his
+friends to the school in a distinctly calmer frame of mind. The trouble
+which had been staring him in the face was gone. He was chuckling at the
+fix into which Susanne and his band would certainly tumble.
+
+"We've just to sit tight and keep our mouths shut, Trendall," he said.
+"Of course, we shall have to appear indignant at the charge, and--ah,
+that's lucky, we shall want an alibi."
+
+"Eh? How much? What's an alibi?"
+
+"Duffer! Someone to prove that we were elsewhere."
+
+"Higgins then."
+
+"Idiot!" Rawlings rounded on him angrily. "How can he prove that when he
+was off at the flying meeting? What about Tunstall?"
+
+Tunstall was another of the same kidney as Higgins. Ranleigh was, in
+fact, at this period, somewhat unlucky in this particular, for Tunstall
+was one of those oily wretches ever on the look out for favours from
+anyone. In a smaller way than Higgins he had more than once procured
+contraband articles for Ranleighans, and was ready at any time to do a
+service. Better, too, for Rawlings' purpose, he occupied a shop somewhat
+isolated and away from the village. A prefect had the right to go there.
+Doubtless the fact of his taking a friend would be overlooked.
+
+"He's the very man," agreed Trendall. "But--look here, Rawlings, I don't
+like all this business. Supposing it were found out?"
+
+He never thought of the dishonesty of it all. Like his friend, he feared
+only the consequences of discovery.
+
+"Rot! Of course the thing'll pass. Don't be an ass," growled Rawlings.
+"Let's sprint off at once. We've time to see him now and still be in for
+call-over."
+
+Everything seemed to be working in their favour, for the wily Tunstall
+was at home, and tumbled to their meaning instantly. He was a
+shock-headed, unkempt individual, with a crooked back and a chin which
+seemed to have settled down on his chest from infancy. A straggling
+beard depended from the same chin, while long, untidy eyebrows
+overshadowed a pair of cunning orbs.
+
+"Say as you was here the whole afternoon, a drinkin' corfee and sich
+like; of course, Mr. Rawlings," he leered, "but--well, yer see, bein'
+only a poor man, with this here shop to depend on, I can't afford to
+give nuffin away, don't yer see, nuffin, not even a promise."
+
+"But we'll make that all right," came the instant and eager response.
+"Look here, Tunstall, what's it worth?"
+
+The wily one screwed his eyes up till his long brows mingled almost with
+his unkempt beard. "What's it worth? Well, see here, supposin' I don't
+stick to the tale. Supposin'----But you ain't yet told me why you've
+axed for this here alibi. Is it a robbery?"
+
+"A robbery!" shouted Trendall angrily, his fat cheeks wabbling and
+flushing red. "What do you take us for?"
+
+Tunstall might easily have replied that he took them for what they
+showed themselves to be. But he had his own terms to make, and caution
+was necessary.
+
+"No offence, gents," he said silkily. "No offence, I'm sure. I wasn't
+thinkin' that, of course. But what's the reason for wantin' this here
+alibi? You've got into some sort o' mess, I suppose. What mess, then? I
+has to ask, 'cos I has to protect myself, and besides, though I may only
+keep a small shop, I've got me own feelin's, and me own pride."
+
+The task was not so easy a one as Rawlings imagined. Or, to be precise,
+that young gentleman was not half as clever as he thought himself. Had
+he been so he would have seen through the artifices of this rascal at
+once, and would not have shown concern at his lack of keenness to
+undertake the work asked of him.
+
+"I'll--I'll make it worth your while, Tunstall," he said desperately.
+"As to the cause, why, we've been to Guildford. There was an accident on
+the way back. The steering gear of the car went wrong and we were turned
+over. That man Ranger, who was driving, was killed. Now, the police will
+find him and the car on the road. It's plain he was killed by accident,
+and there's not the smallest need for our names to appear. All we could
+do would be to corroborate the story of the accident. But we don't want
+to do that, for we'd been breaking bounds. Now, a sovereign if you help
+us."
+
+Tunstall held out a grimy palm.
+
+"Put it there, sir," he leered. "I'll swear as you was here all day a
+drinkin' corfee and----"
+
+"Not all day," Trendall corrected him. "We came just before twelve and
+left at three. That makes it impossible for us to have been at
+Guildford."
+
+"Then you come here at twelve and left at three. You was drinkin' corfee
+and jawin' and what not. Put it there, Mr. Rawlings."
+
+"I can't now, but at the end of the week," came the lame answer. "I've
+given my last sovereign to-day. But I'll easily get more, and----"
+
+"Oh, ho!" cried Tunstall, looking cunningly at them. "You ain't got the
+stuff on you, but you've got promises. Well, any man is rich with them.
+Gold's gold, Mr. Rawlings, and without it a man can't speak, nor take
+risks, which is a deal more, I can tell ye."
+
+"But--what do you mean?" asked Rawlings desperately, afraid to lose his
+temper and abuse the man. "My word is good enough, surely? If I say I
+will pay you a pound, that money is as good as paid."
+
+"In course. In course, sir. But gold's gold, as I've said. Promises
+ain't worth half, or even that. I could ha' done this here job for
+twenty shillings, but for a promise of twenty, no. It ain't possible."
+
+"Then how much?" asked Trendall, his fat cheeks shaking with
+apprehension, for he could now see the importance of possessing an
+alibi. "How much for the job?"
+
+"Five quid. Not a penny less," came the leering rejoinder.
+
+The mention of such a sum caused the two Ranleighans to stare hard at
+one another. Rawlings' brow was deeply furrowed, his eyes had a far-away
+look. Trendall watched him anxiously. For his part five pounds was out
+of the question. Masters could have raised such a sum almost as easily,
+and that was saying a lot, for Masters was for ever grumbling at the
+smallness of his allowance, and the meanness of his people. But Rawlings
+had a wealthy father, one, too, who boasted of the expense caused by an
+expensive son. He liked to feel that his offspring was cutting a dash,
+and for that purpose gave him ample funds. Still, even he might kick if
+too great a demand were made.
+
+"Got it!" cried Rawlings, snapping his fingers with delight. "Five
+pounds, you said, Tunstall?"
+
+"That's the figure. It couldn't be done at a halfpenny less."
+
+"There's that parting present we're giving to Tarton, the 'Stinks'
+master," suggested Rawlings. "They're asking for subscriptions to the
+fund, and----"
+
+"You could get it for that, eh?" demanded Trendall eagerly.
+
+"Easily. Tell the Governor I want to do the thing well. He'll never be
+any the wiser, and'll never ask questions. Very well, Tunstall, it's a
+big price, but I'll pay it. Five pounds for the job, half as soon as my
+next allowance arrives, the rest before the term's ended."
+
+The wretch looked at him artfully, his eyes screwed up to narrow slits
+again.
+
+"You promise?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"On yer--on yer honour?"
+
+"What next! Of course!" growled Trendall. "As if we were likely to break
+our word."
+
+"I dunno. I dunno," muttered Tunstall, but so that they could hear.
+"Honour's a great word with you gents, and me and the likes of me don't
+understand it. But I should ha' thought that young chaps as wanted a job
+o' this sort done hadn't--well, five pound then, half within a week, the
+rest as you say."
+
+A flash of indignant anger in Rawlings' eye, and a sudden heightening of
+Trendall's colour, had warned him to refrain from further speaking. He
+nodded to them both and showed them out obsequiously. As for the two who
+were to pay him for this job, they slunk away from the shop as if they
+were afraid of their own shadows. That last unmeant thrust on the part
+of Tunstall had gone home with a vengeance.
+
+"The cheek of the brute," growled Rawlings. "What'd he mean about
+honour? What business is it of his, anyway? Eh?"
+
+But in their heart of hearts they knew that the thrust was deserved.
+What honour could they have, indeed, when they were parties to such
+double dealing? However, a sharp run up to the school made them forget
+the incident. They were in good time for call-over, and went in to tea
+as if nothing unusual had happened. By the following morning they had
+persuaded themselves that their fears had been needlessly aroused, and
+that their precautions were unnecessary.
+
+"Wish I hadn't been quite so free with that fellow Higgins," Rawlings
+whispered to Trendall as they went into Chapel. "The chances are the
+police have found the car and the man, and have decided that it was an
+easily explained accident. There was the broken steering gear to tell
+them its cause, and nothing to show that there was another car there or
+anyone else in the wrecked car, for that matter. I'm sorry about that
+sov. As to Tunstall, of course, if he don't have to swear an alibi, why,
+he won't get his money."
+
+But breakfast brought a decided change to the situation. The meal was
+ended, "knock up" had sounded, this latter being a sharp rap given on
+the table occupied by the masters up on the dais. It called for silence,
+while Harvey made the round of the hall, inspecting table linen. Then
+followed grace as a rule, and immediately after the boys filed out of
+the Hall in regular order. Now, of a sudden, a familiar figure bounced
+on to the dais. It was the Headmaster. Dead silence followed, silence in
+which Rawlings could hear his heart thumping. It palpitated a moment
+later when the Head began to speak. He stood in the middle of the dais,
+his head thrown back, his eyes apparently closed, a smile on his face
+which might have deceived the unwary. But Ranleighans knew that
+something unpleasant was coming. The acidity of his tones even more than
+the words told them of his great displeasure.
+
+"There was an accident on the road from Guildford yesterday," he said.
+"A man was killed. Certain Ranleigh boys were there. They will step
+forward."
+
+Clive felt as if his legs would not support him. It was all very well to
+have formed resolutions, but acting up to them was an altogether
+different matter. He quaked. The severe tones of the Head, his austere
+manner, his obvious displeasure alarmed him. Clive hesitated. He looked
+across at Susanne, and saw that young fellow actually grinning. And then
+he took heart. He clambered over the long form between which and the
+table he was standing, and marched toward the dais. Susanne was already
+in motion. Masters followed close behind him, wearing a woebegone
+expression, while Bert and Hugh brought up the rear, their faces flushed
+with excitement.
+
+"Ah! Five of you. You were present at this accident?"
+
+"Yes, sir," came from Susanne, a wonderful ally on such a stern
+occasion.
+
+"Yes, sir," repeated the others.
+
+"And you declare that the cause of this man's death was due purely to
+accident?"
+
+"Certainly," from Susanne.
+
+"Decidedly," from Masters.
+
+"Yes, sir," from Clive and the others.
+
+"There were others present in the car in which you were riding? Darrell,
+answer the question."
+
+"The driver only, sir," Clive managed to blurt out.
+
+"Ah! His name, Feofé?"
+
+"Higgins, sir."
+
+"But that is not the name of the man who was killed. Explain!" demanded
+the Head severely, opening his eyes to thrust a glance at the culprits.
+
+"No, sir. We were in another car. The accident occurred after we had
+passed," Bert took upon himself to explain.
+
+"Ah! That is clear enough. There were two cars. You boys had broken
+bounds and had been to the meeting at Guildford on the one driven by
+Higgins. What boys were in the other?"
+
+No answer. Susanne was gazing over the head of the chief of Ranleigh at
+the glazed windows beyond. Clive looked decidedly frightened. Masters
+appeared not to have heard the question. For Bert and Hugh, their faces
+were impassive.
+
+"I will put the question differently. There were Ranleigh boys in the
+other car, were there not?" demanded the Head curtly. "Masters,
+answer."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Down in the body of the hall Rawlings and Trendall began to tremble. The
+critical moment was arriving. They must stand to their guns, and when
+those sneaks on the dais had mentioned their names, they must declare
+their innocence. It would be perfectly all right. They had that alibi.
+Higgins would also declare in their favour.
+
+"And you recognised them? Feofé, answer."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Then their names, if you please. Seymour Primus, you will give them."
+
+A stony silence followed. You could have heard a pin dropping. Boys in
+the body of the Hall hardly dared to breathe, while Rawlings and his
+crony found the strain almost intolerable.
+
+"Then, Feofé? Those names."
+
+Silence once more. Not a syllable from the Frenchman.
+
+"Then, Darrell? Seymour Secundus?"
+
+The Head swung round and beckoned to someone outside the door through
+which he had entered, one admitting directly on to the dais. There was a
+trying interval during which not a foot was stirred. Never had Ranleigh
+school remained assembled in such a deathly silence. Even Old B.,
+standing so close to the Head, seemed to feel it. His face was flushed a
+dull red. His eyes were blinking. The fair giant looked decidedly
+uncomfortable. And then the tension was relieved. Carfort, the school
+butler, appeared with a cane of vast proportions beneath his arm, and
+handed it to the Head.
+
+"Now we will proceed," said that worthy, regarding the culprits and the
+whole school icily. "You boys know what to expect if you refuse to
+answer. I ask you once again for the names of the two Ranleigh boys who
+were in that other car. They should have come forward at the first. They
+have failed to do so. Give me their names."
+
+Silence. Nothing but stony silence. Susanne looked as if he were
+whistling. Clive's head was held high and haughtily. Masters wore the
+sort of look he usually had when receiving another dose of "impots." And
+then the school was electrified by another demand.
+
+"Rawlings and Trendall, stand forward," cried the Head. "You others go
+to your places. Dismiss the school, please, Mr. Perkins. Rawlings and
+Trendall, who were in that other car, who witnessed the accident I have
+referred to, and who disgracefully failed to come forward, those two
+will go at once to my room. There they will be dealt with."
+
+The school gasped. Clive felt as if a ton weight had of a sudden been
+shifted from his shoulders. He watched the forlorn figures of Rawlings
+and Trendall shambling after the Headmaster.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THE RUINED TOWER
+
+
+Even the longest of terms comes at length to an end; and finally that
+eventful first term which Clive and his friends had spent at Ranleigh
+drew to a close. The last days were carefully and jubilantly marked off
+by every junior boy on a calendar of his own making. Boxes were packed,
+good-byes said, and the school divided for the holidays.
+
+"Shall try to get over to see you chaps in the hols.," declared Masters,
+on the eve of departure. "Much depends, though, on the Governor. Can't
+do railway journeys on my allowance. Sickening, isn't it?"
+
+"Rotten," Clive consoled him. "But it's only twenty miles, eh?"
+
+"Barely. Perhaps a bit more. Nothing on a motor," agreed Masters,
+recollecting their trip to Guildford. "And you've a car, haven't you?"
+
+Bert grinned at that, a satirical grin which made Clive boil with anger.
+Hugh got very red. He looked closely at Masters to see if he were poking
+fun at him.
+
+"Not going to have a chap like you pulling our leg, you know," he said
+haughtily and somewhat threateningly. "What do you mean by a car?"
+
+"Why, a car, of course. What else?" grinned Bert provocatively.
+
+"Quite so," admitted Masters, a little puzzled. He had understood, in
+fact, from Clive's glowing description of the home-made vehicle of which
+that hopeful and Hugh were joint inventors and proprietors that it was
+something really very fine. He never imagined, indeed, and had never
+been given data on which to imagine, that the said car consisted of odds
+and ends, that the workshop engine was the propelling force, that the
+steering gear was of the crudest, that bicycle wheels did service in
+front, while the rector's tricycle had supplied that all-important part,
+the back axle. Clive in his descriptions of mechanical matters
+appertaining to himself was wont to wax very enthusiastic. He clothed
+his inventions in a covering of gloss, which, to the uneducated eyes of
+Masters, was quite opaque. That car, then, to this same Masters, had
+always been imagined as a car, not a collection of odd bits.
+
+"Oh!" exclaimed Hugh at length, seeing that no attempt was being made to
+make fun of the invention. "Well, Clive, a bit more than twenty miles,
+eh? How'd she do it?"
+
+"On her head. Easy. But we mightn't be able to get away. Train's easier
+for Masters. Let his Governor stump up. He ought to. What's a Governor
+for?"
+
+That was just the very point of view from which Masters beheld his
+paternal relative. He went off in the train promising to see what
+persuasion would do. And then Susanne waved an adieu to his friends.
+
+"Au revoir!" he sang out, his head projecting from the carriage window.
+"Wish you chaps a jolly time. Rawlings won't be interfering with you."
+
+And that, indeed, was the thought of Clive and Bert and Hugh. To be
+quite truthful, the trio hardly now gave the immaculate Rawlings a
+thought. For the downfall of that young gentleman had been very sudden
+and very evident. He was no longer a prefect. His haughty, airy ways
+were gone. He was a changed individual. As for Trendall, the fat
+fellow's fat cheeks had seemed less fat of late. He had taken the lesson
+he had received very much to heart, and as if he realised his former
+shortcomings, had actually drifted away from Rawlings. They were no
+longer seen together. Their familiar figures, arm in arm, were no longer
+observed on the playing fields. Instead, Trendall had moped for a while,
+and then had begun to draw other friends about him. Instead of a sulky
+nod, he now even deigned to smile at Susanne and the others, and on
+this, the very last day of the term, he had made a confession.
+
+"Look here, you chaps," he said, somewhat lamely perhaps, for it wanted
+no little courage to tackle the matter, "I'm afraid I've been rather a
+pig."
+
+"Eh? Er--oh--don't mention it," was Masters' instant rejoinder, somewhat
+characteristic of that young gentleman.
+
+"Shut up!" growled Susanne promptly. "Well, Trendall?" he said
+encouragingly. "We don't think it."
+
+"Then I do. I've acted like a pig and a bounder, and I'm sorry. I've
+been an ungrateful brute all along and want to apologise. It's late in
+the day, of course, but then, there it is, I'm sorry."
+
+He held out a hand, lamely again, as if fearful that it would pass
+unnoticed. But Susanne seized it instantly. It was like Susanne, the
+warm-hearted Frenchman.
+
+"Good! Very good!" he said. "We're to be friends from now, eh? I'm
+glad."
+
+"So am I; it's no use being enemies," declared Bert, taking the
+proffered hand too.
+
+"Rotten!" reflected Clive. "It'll be something nice to look forward to
+after the hols."
+
+"Ripping!" cried Masters warmly.
+
+And thus was the quarrel made up, much to the relief of all, and
+particularly of Trendall. As for the guilt of the latter, together with
+Rawlings, it had leaked out soon after their denouncement before the
+assembled school that Old B. had seen both cars at the flying meeting,
+and hearing of the accident had at once given information.
+
+Home at last! The escapade which had sent Clive and his friends to
+Ranleigh seemed to have been forgotten. The Rector beamed on his boys.
+
+"Wouldn't have sent you at all if I'd known that young Darrell was going
+to Ranleigh also," he laughed. "Of course, it meant more mischief. That
+young Darrell's a terrible fellow. Well, here you are, back again. Let's
+hope you'll have a fine holiday."
+
+"Vote we go prospecting," said Hugh, two days later, when all were
+settled down. "There's that place we've gassed about so often."
+
+"Place? Lots of places everywhere, and we do nothing but gas," grumbled
+Bert. "Which particular place?"
+
+"Merton Tower, of course, booby!" cried Clive. "You knew all along."
+
+"Well, there's a place called Merton Tower. What next?"
+
+"There's an ass known as Bert Seymour," declared his brother in disgust.
+"As if you weren't there when we were talking."
+
+"Oh, I'm there nearly always," came the rejoinder, for the two brothers
+often sparred. "But you do the talking, you and Clive. I have to listen.
+It's no wonder if I forget things. Let's get along. There's a tower, a
+place, and I'm supposed to know that a place is this Merton Tower."
+
+If looks could have brought punishment, Bert would have been a sad
+individual. He grinned at the threatening glances of his friends.
+
+"Well?" he demanded again, impatiently.
+
+"We're going to explore it," said Clive, forgetting his anger at the
+prospect before him. "It's said to be haunted."
+
+Hugh went a trifle pale. Ghost stories and tales of haunted houses
+always had that effect on him.
+
+"Haunted?" he repeated in awed tones.
+
+"Rot!" reflected Bert rudely. "Stuff and nonsense!"
+
+"There's a mystery about the place," Clive proceeded, ignoring the last
+remarks. "No one dares to enter. We tried once, Hugh and I."
+
+"And funked, eh? Saw the ghost and bolted."
+
+Bert chuckled loudly. It was true of him that he was as a rule a
+listener in the councils of these three. Often enough his dreamy eyes
+told that his thoughts were far away, probably on the cricket field,
+while the chatter of his friends passed unnoticed. But he had a habit of
+suddenly giving his attention, of picking out scraps which came to his
+ears and of ridiculing them. That was the time when Clive and Hugh
+ground their teeth, flashed indignant glances at him, and even
+threatened violence. Not that Bert minded. He often chuckled the louder.
+
+"We tried once, Hugh and I," repeated Clive with an effort. It was hard
+to keep one's temper with such a chap as Bert.
+
+"And bolted, probably at your own shadows," laughed his tormentor.
+
+"And were met by a rough fellow a hundred yards or so outside the
+tower."
+
+"Yes," agreed Hugh quickly. "He threatened to----"
+
+"Whop you, eh?" teased Bert.
+
+"To kill us if we didn't sling our hooks. That's why we bolted. He'd a
+knife," said Clive. "This time we go armed. Then, if it comes to a
+question of knives, why, we're ready."
+
+"Yes," Hugh backed him up. "Ready for anything."
+
+"And we're going to-day."
+
+"Now," said Hugh.
+
+"And expect me to risk it," laughed Bert. "Well, let's go. I'll back
+there'll be no man to greet us. A few jackdaws perhaps, an odd crow
+too. But a man with a knife, never!"
+
+The conversation having come to an end amicably, Clive dived in at the
+back door of his mother's establishment, where with wonderful persuasive
+powers, often practised it must be confessed, he managed to induce the
+cook to supply three bundles of provisions.
+
+"It'll save coming back for lunch, you chaps," he told them on his
+reappearance. "We shall have lots of time to explore. Supposing we found
+something."
+
+"Buried gold and jewels," cried Hugh, his eyes bulging.
+
+"Might happen," admitted the practical Bert. "There are lots of tales of
+hidden wealth, and some of it gets discovered. There's a yarn about this
+very tower."
+
+"Gospel?" asked Clive with a jerk.
+
+"True as possible. Place attacked some time in the old days. Rich old
+bounder in charge. Saw he hadn't a chance, and so dug a hole somewhere
+and buried his valuables. Supposing we came upon the spot. They say in
+the village that attempts have been made. Once a bangle was discovered.
+Then one of the searchers fell into a well and that put an end to the
+business. It was supposed to be haunted then, and the tale still holds.
+Lights have even been seen flitting about during the night."
+
+"And there's a tale of buried treasure?" asked Hugh eagerly.
+
+"Ask anyone in the village."
+
+"What'd we do if we found it?" gasped Clive. "I know--buy a real car."
+
+"Rather!" echoed Hugh.
+
+To which the careful Bert made the rejoinder: "Don't count your chickens
+before they're hatched. Still, if the tale's true, and I believe it, why
+shouldn't we find the stuff? Clive'd buy back the place and kick the
+Rawlings out. That'd be good, better than a car by a long way."
+
+By this time the trio were on the road astride their bicycles, and since
+the ruined tower for which they aimed was barely six miles distant, it
+took them but a little while to approach it. Then a halt was called.
+
+"Better feed now and so have less to carry," suggested Hugh. "We'll be
+all the fitter for searching. By the way, supposing the door's shut.
+There was a door, wasn't there, Clive?"
+
+"That chap rushed out of one, anyway," came the answer. "Vote we go
+cautiously. Last time we went to the place across the fields and were
+seen at once. Supposing we try through the copse at the back. That'll
+give us cover right up to the doorway."
+
+The suggestion was voted to be a good one, as also that of Hugh. The
+three hopped off their machines, and selecting a sheltered spot by the
+highway, sat on a gate and opened their parcels of provisions. The meal
+ended, they mounted again and rode a mile farther, till they had passed
+the tower on their right and were a little behind it. Then they
+dismounted, passed through a gap in a hedge, and plunged into the thick
+cover afforded by a copse which extended to the tower.
+
+"Safe to leave the bikes here," whispered Bert, who once he was embarked
+on an adventure put his heart into it. "Let's make for that tree over
+there. It's the nearest to the gap through which we entered, and also
+the tallest. Then we shall find them again easily."
+
+"Supposing someone else does?" asked Clive doubtfully.
+
+"And clears off? Mine belongs to the Governor," said Hugh, with
+recollections of what had happened on a former occasion when he had
+borrowed the Rector's belongings.
+
+"Not worth talking about," declared Bert emphatically. "No one saw us
+enter the copse. We made sure of that. Then who's to find the bikes? If
+it weren't for the tree here we ourselves would have a job when it comes
+to returning. Here we are; prop 'em against the trunk. Now for the
+tower."
+
+They thrust their way in Indian file through the copse, treading softly.
+Not that anyone was likely to overhear them. But then there might be
+someone, as on that former occasion, and as all there were burning to
+inspect the place and enter the tower they determined to take all
+precautions. There is this to be added also. Like many other people
+burning with enthusiasm, Clive and his friends had an inward
+consciousness that where others had failed they would succeed in finding
+the wealth said to have been buried.
+
+Ten minutes later found them at the edge of the wood, within twenty
+yards of the tower. Brambles and scattered bunches of growth extended
+right up to the moss-clad walls. As for the tower itself, it was a tall,
+somewhat dilapidated affair, but better preserved in one quarter, where
+its battlements thrust upward toward the sky. Directly beneath them was
+a wide archway, overhung by a gallery far up, through apertures in which
+warriors of old were wont to drop masses of stone upon the heads of
+unwanted callers. Bert pointed them out to his comrades.
+
+"Splendid dodge!" he said. "Rather a shock for the fellows down below.
+Bet they bolted."
+
+"Those who could. A few hundredweights of stone fall with a bang," Clive
+reminded him. "Not much moving afterwards."
+
+"And look at the narrow slits behind which the chaps with the arrows
+stood," whispered Hugh, pointing to narrow apertures flanking the door,
+and appearing at various heights till the battlements were reached.
+"Wonder what it feels like to have an arrow in you?"
+
+Bert shuddered. "Ugh!" he reflected. "Let's get on. How are we to
+enter?"
+
+The puzzle was not an easy one to solve, for when they had left their
+cover and reached the door, the latter was found to be a massive affair
+and in splendid order. There was a postern in it, firmly padlocked,
+however. Not even the most agile could have clambered up, and had they
+been able there was no entry at the top of the door.
+
+"Done," groaned Hugh.
+
+"Let's see," whispered Clive. "Let's creep on round the foot of the
+tower and see what we come to."
+
+Brambles and ferns obstructed their path. A crumbling wall of stone
+crossed it, and halting for a moment they saw that it turned abruptly to
+the right some fifty yards away, and then again came towards the
+building.
+
+"A courtyard or the garden in the old days," said Bert. "Wonder if
+that's where that old beggar hid the treasure?"
+
+"Ah!" It was a very shrewd suggestion. Clive stared about him with added
+interest. "Hardly likely," he ventured after a while. "The old chap was
+cooped up, isn't that the story?"
+
+"Yes; and hadn't a chance. Knew every farthing would be taken from him."
+
+"And so buried it."
+
+"Don't blame him either," declared Hugh. "But where would a fellow be
+most likely to bury gold under the circumstances? Not in the garden."
+
+"Why not?" asked Bert curtly.
+
+"Because the enemy were round there without a doubt. Probably sat behind
+the garden walls comfortably taking pot shots at the defenders. Look
+there, there's a hole in the tower right opposite. Bet you the cannon
+smashed the stones in. That old cove couldn't have got to the garden."
+
+This seemed probable enough, and therefore the movement forward was
+proceeded with. They skirted the moss-covered foot of the tower for some
+fifty paces, and though all observed that the battlements above them had
+been much broken, and had disappeared altogether in parts, yet the
+height of the walls was still so great that climbing was out of the
+question.
+
+"A flying machine'd be the thing," said Clive. "Looks as if we'd be
+beaten."
+
+"And have to go back. Don't like that," reflected Bert.
+
+"Only we'd get there in time for lunch," Hugh reminded them. "That's one
+consolation."
+
+A complete circuit of the tower at length convinced them that entrance
+was more difficult than they had anticipated, if not utterly impossible.
+Clive inspected the padlock on the postern and declared it to be
+unpickable. Hugh gazed aloft as if he expected to discover a dangling
+ladder waiting conveniently for them. Then Bert made a movement.
+
+"I'm going to get into that tower whatever happens," he said
+obstinately. "Even if it takes me a week I'm going to get inside."
+
+They would have cheered him if there had not been need for silence. As
+it was, Clive slapped him approvingly on the back and then asked an
+all-important question.
+
+"How's it to be done? Creep in through one of those slits for firing
+arrows?" he asked in bantering tones. "Or dig a way under the wall? That
+sounds the most likely."
+
+"I'm going to climb by that ivy," was the steady answer. "You chaps can
+hang about down below to pick up the pieces. There's a window fifty feet
+up, just beneath the battlements, and the ivy goes right up over the
+top, and's as thick as my leg. I'm going to chance its bearing."
+
+When his friends came to inspect the place they were bound to admit
+that the idea was practicable. At the same time it was risky,
+particularly for Bert. One would have thought that Hugh would have made
+the attempt with greater chance of success, seeing that he was a
+gymnast. But Bert was an obstinate fellow. He seldom shone in adventures
+entered upon by the Old Firm. His comrades had come to look upon him as
+an excellent follower, an untiring though sometimes absent-minded
+listener, and as a youth with caustic and satirical wit, who at times
+roused them to the height of anger. To hear him now obstinately declare
+his intention of undertaking this difficult and dangerous task was
+rather staggering.
+
+"Think you'll do it?" asked Clive doubtfully. "Awfully steep, eh?"
+
+"Walls usually are steep," came the grim rejoinder.
+
+"Ivy might be rotten. You ain't much good at climbing," ventured Hugh.
+
+"Because I'm never the one to show off," said Bert quickly. "I'm not
+much good. That I'll admit. At the same time I'm going up to that
+window, or be smashed to a jelly down here. Naturally, as I dislike the
+thought of being smashed into a jelly, I shall hang on for all I'm
+worth, so, after all, the matter resolves itself into a question of the
+strength of the ivy. I'm going."
+
+They watched the obstinate and foolhardy fellow commence his attempt,
+and more than once shivered as he appeared to be falling. Presently he
+had reached a point high overhead and was still mounting. Indeed, in
+less than three minutes he had actually gained the window for which he
+was making and was seen to be entering.
+
+"What one chap does, another can," said Clive. "I'm going to follow."
+
+"And I'll be after you in a winking. There's Bert waving to us. Up you
+go. Who'd have thought the thing could be so easy?"
+
+But when he came himself to make the attempt Hugh found it none too
+light a task. True, there were plenty of ivy stems to grip at, and an
+abundance of niches into which to thrust the feet. But the mass of
+leaves clinging to their stems thrust one away from the wall. Sometimes,
+too, one of the stems proved elusive, and broke away from its fellows.
+But Clive at length reached the safety of the window, and Hugh after
+him.
+
+"Done it!" ejaculated Bert enthusiastically. "Now for a look round."
+
+"And the treasure," Hugh reminded him. "Those chaps who searched before
+may not have been able to get into the place. The doors were locked,
+perhaps."
+
+"I say," interrupted Clive, "wonder where that well is?"
+
+That set them thinking deeply. They stood at the edge of the window
+looking into the dark interior of the tower, wondering which way to
+turn, and where they would find security.
+
+"Beastly to fall into a well," reflected Bert. "Jolly dark in here, I
+think. Wish we'd brought candles."
+
+"Come on," said Hugh. "What's the good of funking? We're here, inside
+the tower, and may as well make the most of our opportunities."
+
+Very gingerly indeed did they set about the exploration of the interior.
+Common sense told them that care would be needed. For the results of
+damp and decay and neglect were everywhere apparent. There were even
+bushes growing on the stone floor upon which they now stood. A tree of
+quite respectable proportions had taken root on the roof overhead, and
+its boughs dangled toward the window by which they had entered.
+
+Beyond, at the far side of the chamber to which their climb had brought
+them, there was a doorway, of stone like the rest of the building,
+though one of the blocks which went to make the roof of the arch had
+tumbled from its position and lay broken in pieces on the floor. Hugh
+led the way towards it, peered through, only to find that he was
+looking into another room of vast proportions. Then he made for a narrow
+opening in the wall to his right, and began at once to ascend the steps
+constructed, as one could see, in the interior of the wall itself.
+
+"Leads to the roof," he whispered over his shoulder. "Let's have a look
+round first."
+
+Perhaps they stayed ten minutes on the giddy perch to which their climb
+took them. They gazed over the broken battlements. They peered down
+through those apertures through which the defenders had been wont to
+drop uncomfortable masses of rock on their attackers. They even
+clambered to the summit of a tiny tower set up in one corner where,
+without doubt, the sentry in bygone days had taken up his station. It
+commanded a grand view of the surrounding country, and from it Clive was
+able to look down upon the domain which his father had owned, and which
+should have been his one day but for the coming of those strangers. Then
+they turned from the roof, descended the steep flight of steps built in
+the wall, and searched for an outlet to other parts of the building.
+Clive was the first to find it. Led by him the party descended to the
+next floor, only to discover that here time and decay had done its work
+more thoroughly. The floor was almost gone. One had to cross to a
+doorway opposite by walking on the top of the wall which had once
+supported the edge of the floor. He gained the doorway, devoid of door
+like all the rest in this building, peered through it into a place which
+common sense told him must have been the upper part of a chapel, though
+the roof was gone in one part. And then, of a sudden, he lifted a finger
+to his lips.
+
+"Voices," he whispered incredulously. "I can hear men talking."
+
+"Certain! Sure!" agreed Bert. "Three different people, I think."
+
+"Down below too," chimed in Hugh, having joined them. "What's it mean?"
+
+After waiting there for perhaps five minutes, the three gently stole
+across the floor of what had probably been a gallery. Peering cautiously
+over the broken balustrade of this they looked below them. Then they
+withdrew their heads suddenly. For four men were seated below about a
+fire which blazed brightly in the ancient hearth of the old dwelling.
+Who they were or what they were none could guess; but this was certain:
+they were disreputable-looking, and one had a face which was familiar,
+while in the case of a second his head and shoulders were hidden by a
+portion of the masonry.
+
+"The fellow who chased us away once before," whispered Clive.
+
+"I'm certain," agreed Hugh, jerking his head decisively.
+
+"And--and, do you know, you fellows," said Bert, with great
+deliberation, "do you know that there have been a series of robberies
+round these parts lately?"
+
+Hugh shook his head. Clive looked the question he wished to ask.
+
+"Well, there have been," added Bert, "and I wouldn't wonder if those are
+the beggars."
+
+"Burglars?"
+
+"Yes," Bert answered curtly to Clive's question.
+
+"Then--er don't you think----?" began Hugh. "Don't you think it'd be
+wise for us to----?"
+
+"I don't," Bert responded abruptly. "I've got in here after a bit of a
+climb. I'll see this thing to a finish. If they're burglars, all the
+better. Let's get back to the balustrade and listen."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+BERT MAKES A DISCOVERY
+
+
+There had been burglaries in the neighbourhood. Bert was quite correct
+when he asserted the fact emphatically.
+
+"Lots of 'em, too," he repeated in a hoarse whisper, drawing Clive and
+Hugh after him across the rafters, which in days gone by had supported
+the floor of the chamber leading to the gallery of the chapel within the
+deserted tower. "Just listen to this," he went on, in more natural
+tones, when he had conducted them back to the window by which they had
+gained an entrance. "There was a burglary at the Evansons', eh?"
+
+"Big one," agreed Clive. "They're five miles away from this."
+
+"And a heap of stuff was taken. That's three months ago."
+
+"More--four months," asserted Hugh, thrusting his hands deep in his
+pockets and shrinking his neck into his collar. Hugh, in fact, wore a
+most severe and thoughtful expression. Then he seemed to have thought of
+something important. His hands shot from his pockets suddenly. He
+searched the belt beneath his coat, secured round his middle. "Might
+want 'em, eh?" he asked, fingering the dagger with which he had so
+thoughtfully provided himself. Clive, too, copied the movement.
+
+"Rot!" observed Bert very curtly. "As if we could venture to fight those
+beggars down there. Besides, it isn't proved that they are burglars.
+They may be merely tramps."
+
+"Aren't tramps burglars, then?" asked Clive hotly.
+
+"Of course!" from Hugh.
+
+"Rot again!" said Bert. "Tramps may be pilferers. They're not
+burglars--at least, not as a general rule. Burglars nowadays dress more
+or less like gentlemen, live in fine houses or hotels, and employ all
+the latest scientific appliances."
+
+"Such as X-rays, and that sort," reflected Clive.
+
+"And diamond drills, and dynamite, and gloved hands, and--and the rest
+of 'em," added Hugh.
+
+"Right--tramps can't afford those things. They may pilfer; they don't
+set out to become downright burglars. Now, those beggars below aren't
+all the same."
+
+"One of 'em's the blackguard who threatened Clive and me some while
+ago," Hugh reminded him. "An out-and-out ruffian he looks too. More of
+the tramp style, I should call him. So there goes bang your idea that
+these chaps are burglars."
+
+"In fact, it's a mare's nest," grinned Clive. "These fellows are just
+tramps or out-of-works, or something of the sort. Homeless fellows, who
+find that the old tower gives cheap and splendid lodgings. Think of
+it--nothing to pay for house-rent, no rates and no taxes, no neighbours,
+either, no annoyance from noisy dogs, or from cocks and hens, no
+children playing pranks, and----"
+
+"Dry up, do!" said Bert fiercely. "Just shows that you two chaps go
+about the world with your eyes half closed. That's the worst of being
+amateur mechanics. Everything that isn't something to do with an engine,
+a motor, or--or a what-not, isn't worth taking notice of."
+
+"Here!" began Hugh indignantly, for breezes frequently arose between the
+two brothers. Hugh was not the lad to be down-trodden. Indeed, as a
+matter of actual fact, it was he who oftenmost triumphed. The
+easy-going, dreaming Bert usually collapsed early in such arguments and
+agreed to whatever was passing.
+
+"Shut up!" he retorted curtly enough on this occasion, and to the
+astonishment of Clive, and, be it added, to Hugh's own astonishment
+also, for that young gentleman bit the words he was about to utter off
+short at the very tip of his tongue.
+
+"Well?" he asked lamely.
+
+"Who said that that blackguard didn't look like a tramp? He does--any
+ass can see that--but the others don't. They're better dressed--roughly,
+I'll admit, but better. But they're disguised. Whoever saw chaps of
+their supposed position--labourers you'd call 'em--smoking cigarettes
+out of gold-mounted holders?"
+
+"Oh! Eh?" ejaculated Hugh, his breath rather taken away.
+
+"You didn't notice, then?"
+
+"Er--no."
+
+"Nor you, Clive?"
+
+"No. But I saw it, if you can see the difference in what seems rather a
+contradictory statement. What'd Old B. call that if he were taking us in
+classics?"
+
+"Hang old B.!" declared Bert irreverently.
+
+It made the others flush to hear him speak in such fashion. Bert say
+such a thing of Old B., one of his particular favourites! Clive and Hugh
+looked askance at the comrade they knew as a rule as a smooth-spoken,
+wool-gathering fellow. Here he was decidedly emphatic--brusque, to say
+the least of it, in fact quite rude, and hurling names about in a
+manner which might be that of Masters', but was certainly not that
+customary to Bert Seymour. Hugh wondered what next was coming. Clive
+grinned sheepishly, and then suddenly straightened his features. Half an
+hour before he wouldn't have minded Bert's seeing that grin of derision.
+Now he was positively afraid.
+
+"Er--oh--er, yes," he said lamely.
+
+"Eh?" asked Bert sharply.
+
+"Oh, nothing."
+
+"Then don't gas. Look here. What I've said is true enough. Hugh didn't
+see what I've mentioned. Well," said Bert, with cold scorn, "no one
+expects anything better from Hugh."
+
+"I say! Look here!"
+
+"But Clive saw it, for a wonder," the elder of the lads went on without
+faltering. "So it's true enough. Three of those chaps are impostors. The
+fourth keeps house down here for 'em, and lets 'em know how things are
+going."
+
+"What things?" asked Hugh sulkily.
+
+"What things! Why, who's away from home, or going away shortly. Who's a
+big swell, with lots of cash and lots of jewels. What the police are
+doing. Whether they suspect anyone in particular. What clue they have to
+the perpetrators----"
+
+"How much?" asked Clive.
+
+"Perpetrators. Fellows who did the job," said Bert, with cold scorn
+again. In fact, his tones were icy. He might have been speaking to
+little children. "What clue they have to the perpetrators of the
+burglaries, and what chance there is of cracking other cribs."
+
+His grip of the situation was really amazing. Clive remembered all of a
+sudden that Bert had already made quite a name for himself in the school
+Debating Society. It was strange, he had often thought, that a fellow
+usually so retiring and so dreamy should be ready to get on to his feet
+and speak before an audience. He himself would have shivered in his
+shoes if called upon to debate. Yet Bert turned not so much as a hair.
+
+"Ready to get on to his hind legs and gas at any moment and on any
+subject," Hugh had once observed. "Glad he keeps his gas for the
+Debating Society and don't let it off on us. Bert's a wonder."
+
+He was a distinct surprise on this occasion--at any rate, what might
+with justice be described as a dark horse. For here was Bert gripping
+the intricacies of the situation as if he'd been thinking them out for
+hours. And what was more to the point, though usually content to take
+third place, as we have explained, he had of a sudden crumpled up all
+but the feeblest attempts to contradict him, had hurled scorn at his
+friends, and was now virtually in command of the party. He was a wonder
+indeed! At last he was being taken seriously.
+
+"So we take it as agreed that these beggars are burglars," he said. "The
+next question is, how are we going to act?"
+
+"The police. Send for 'em," suggested Clive.
+
+"Yes, we will, in time, as soon as we've proved to our own satisfaction
+that the thing we've discovered is no mare's nest. Hugh, how long would
+it take you to nip down by the ivy?"
+
+"To the ground?"
+
+"Of course. Where else, donkey?"
+
+"Two minutes," answered that young fellow when he had squinted from the
+window.
+
+"Then you stay here and wait for a signal. I hope not to have to send
+it. But if I do, hop."
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"Clear off. Get home to father and then to the police."
+
+"Yes. But you?"
+
+"Clive and I will remain. I've discovered already that the stairs which
+once led to the first floor have fallen down. The floor's a very high
+one, and unless there is some easier way up elsewhere, where we haven't
+yet explored, those fellows wouldn't be able to get at us. That leaves
+us safe. While they're trying to get us down, you'll be off. See?"
+
+"And you'll keep them trying till I can get the police. I've got it.
+Hooray!"
+
+"Shut up!" commanded Bert.
+
+Hugh showed wonderful obedience. He even looked admiringly at his
+brother, and that was very unusual with him. In fact, Hugh's conceit was
+large up to this moment. He was more than apt to lay down the law,
+especially where Bert was concerned. And now he had met his master.
+Where strength of character--real strength--was required, Bert had as if
+by magic suddenly become leader of the trio.
+
+"Stay there and wait. Keep your eye open," he said. "Come on, Clive."
+
+They went off across the old room, through the archway, and so to that
+other chamber across the floor beams of which lay the road to the
+gallery over the tumble-down chapel. What memories, what imaginations
+that old place brought up too! Clive recollected the tales he had so
+often read of times gone by when people lived in similar places, in
+fortified towers and castles. When strife between adjacent barons was
+frequent, almost incessant, when sudden raids were made, and when the
+surrounding people, the serfs and tillers of the soil, all who owed
+allegiance to one of the mighty barons, hastened, at the blowing of a
+horn, to the castle, driving maybe their cattle before them, and
+accompanied by their wives and children. He could see them here, massed
+in a huge square open place in the heart of the tower. He pictured
+himself as one of them--the sentry, in fact--perched on that high
+smaller tower on the roof to which they had ascended, peering out over
+the country and watching the blazing of the homesteads and the approach
+of the attackers. He closed his eyes, this imaginative Clive, and saw
+the galleries and roof and windows peopled by men-at-arms in leathern
+jerkins, armed with bows and arrows, or with clumsy arquebuses. Many,
+too, with huge halberds. There were others up on the roof, poising
+masses of rock on their shoulders, ready to hurl them down upon the
+enemy approaching the door. There too, amongst them, was the noble baron
+himself, with his spouse, while between them stood a trumpeter. He could
+see the envoy of the enemy approach on his horse, a white flag attached
+to his lance, could hear the flare of his trumpet summons, and his
+demand that the tower should be surrendered. And then, still with
+soaring imagination, he grew enthusiastic as he conjured up the haughty
+refusal of the baron, the first blows struck, the noise and shouts of
+the contestants.
+
+"S--s--she! Go quietly. You'll let 'em hear us." Bert brought him
+suddenly to his senses, and perhaps it was as well that he did so, for
+at the moment Clive was balancing himself in the centre of one of the
+floor beams, wabbling somewhat giddily, and looking as if he might fall
+on to the massed-up debris down below, all that remained now of the
+massive floor on which the ancient occupants of this room had trodden.
+Yes, it was a place to conjure up all sorts of strange ideas. One could
+picture the huge oak table in the centre of this room, the rush mats on
+the floor, the forms and rough chairs round the huge, open fireplace.
+But Clive had dreamed long enough. It was strange indeed to hear of his
+dreaming. That was the sort of thing one expected of Bert. And here he
+was perfectly wideawake, the reverse of dreaming, as practical and
+unromantic as could well be imagined.
+
+"S--s--she!" he whispered. "I heard 'em moving. Stop a bit. They may be
+listening."
+
+No. The drone of voices came to their ears. Sometimes it appeared as if
+all four men must be talking at one and the same time. Then there were
+but two or one. Later, there was loud, raucous laughter. Then a man
+coughed and choked, and once more there was loud laughter, louder this
+time, for three joined in it.
+
+"Just the moment to move forward," whispered Bert. "Come on."
+
+He gained the gallery, and Clive soon afterwards. Then they crept to the
+ruined balustrade and peeped over. Yes, there were the four men, and now
+that Clive's interest and powers of observation had been stimulated he
+remarked at once that whereas the three men, strangers to him, were clad
+in rough clothing, as if they were labourers, two were certainly smoking
+cigarettes from gold-tipped holders. At least, it looked as if the bands
+surrounding the holders were gold.
+
+"Might be simply cheap gilt," he told himself. "All the same, it's fishy
+to see 'em smoking cigarettes from holders. That's the sort of thing
+Susanne'd do. He don't think anything of a fellow who don't use one, and
+says that cigarettes aren't worth smoking otherwise. Wonder when I'll be
+able to smoke and enjoy it?"
+
+It was one of Clive's ambitions, one destined, it seemed, to be long
+deferred. For we must be perfectly candid on this subject. Clive, like a
+huge number of other young fellows who attempt to smoke, in their heart
+of hearts abhor the thing. Only the fancied grandness of the practice
+lets them repeat it. Perhaps, also, it is because smoking is so strictly
+forbidden, and is such a severely punished offence because of its
+decidedly harmful effects, that boys dare attempt it. In any case,
+speaking of Clive, we have to faithfully record the fact that a
+cigarette went far to make him feel positively sick, and being a
+sensible fellow he had decided against the practice. Even Susanne had
+lost his keenness, while Hugh and Bert had never once shown an
+inclination in that direction. Indeed, to do the "Old Firm" but simple
+justice, they were models where smoking was concerned.
+
+Down below, in the body of the ruined chapel, beneath an expanse of roof
+still supported on some half-dozen pillars, and situated so close to the
+edge that the two above could easily perceive them, were the four men
+whose voices they had heard, the head and shoulders of one of them,
+however, being still invisible. They sat for the most part on masses of
+stone which had once been portions of pillars. But one occupied a chair,
+while now that he had more time for observation, Bert saw that, far in
+the background, and only partly visible, was an iron bedstead, on which
+lay a bundle of blankets. A wood fire blazed in the centre of the circle
+formed by the men, and propped on iron legs above it was an iron pot.
+Near by, also, were glasses and a bottle.
+
+"A chap could easily get across over there, and lie down immediately
+over their heads," whispered Bert, of a sudden, when they had been
+looking downward for some few minutes, vainly trying to overhear what
+was passing between the men. "I suppose it's all right trying to
+overhear, eh? Don't like sneaks of that sort as a rule. But here, eh?"
+
+His eyebrows went up questioningly. Clive jerked his head.
+
+"All's fair," he answered. "If they're burglars, why it's----"
+
+"Playing the game?"
+
+"Exactly."
+
+"Then you think we could get over there? I'll try, at any rate. You stay
+and watch. If I succeed, you follow."
+
+Bert went off at once along the gallery, creeping close beside the wall,
+for the balustrade had in parts disappeared entirely. Nor was it such an
+easy task to reach the spot he had pointed out, for once more it was
+necessary to cross a part where the roof of the chapel had disappeared
+as completely as had the balustrade. There was, in fact, simply a stone
+archway left, across which he must walk to gain the position he sought.
+And it must be remembered that that archway was not by any means low.
+The pillars supporting it towered upward a considerable height, so that
+looking down made one giddy. A few hours before, Bert would have
+hesitated. The masterful Hugh also, fully conscious of his prowess in
+the gymnasium, would in all probability have elected to leave the task
+unaccomplished. But Bert was transformed. He swept difficulties aside as
+if they did not exist. Measuring the height of the archway, and its
+breadth, he stepped on to it, held his arms widely outstretched, and
+commenced the passage, while Clive looked on, his heart in his mouth.
+
+"He'll fall," he thought. "Just fancy Bert's venturing. George! He's
+across, and now he's beckoning. I've got to chance it too."
+
+He felt dismayed. Where there was a difficult tree to be climbed when he
+and Hugh were bird's-nesting, Clive made light of the business. He
+scoffed at heights, at weakened and rotten branches, and laughed at the
+very idea that he should fall. But walking the tight-rope was an
+altogether different class of undertaking, and what was this feat but
+tight-rope walking?
+
+"Jolly well like it," he thought. "Of course, the arch is steady. But
+it's awfully narrow, and it's such a height. If one tripped, one would
+be over. That'd kill a fellow."
+
+He crept along the gallery, stole softly to the arch, and then looked
+over. It made him feel quite queer when he peered down into the ruined
+chapel. Clive felt like funking. He was on the point of shaking his head
+in Bert's direction. And then he changed his mind. What Bert could do,
+he would.
+
+"As if I'd let him beat me!" he thought. "He'd call me a funk. He's been
+slinging names around freely since this began. Like his cheek! Just
+fancy Bert slinging names at a fellow!"
+
+A hot flush rose to his cheeks at the thought. If he had hesitated to
+make this attempt to cross a moment earlier, he was now eager to set
+out.
+
+"Just fancy being licked by Bert. Not me! Rather get smashed into
+mincemeat down below than have him jeering."
+
+And off he went across the narrow archway, with Bert watching him
+anxiously, as if doubtful of his capacity to cross. If Clive could have
+read his friend's thoughts he would have flushed even redder than he had
+done a little while before, for conditions were reversed with a
+vengeance. It was always a matter of doubt with Clive and Hugh, and with
+the somewhat bumptious Masters, to tell the tale fully, whether Bert,
+when accompanying the Old Firm on some of its more reckless expeditions,
+would ruin its success by his natural timidity. And here he was ready to
+call Clive a funk if need be, and anxiously wondering whether he were
+capable of doing what he, Bert, had done!
+
+"Ah! Glad you managed it. Thought you might get giddy and fall," he
+whispered. "Now lie down and don't kick up a beastly row. I want to
+listen."
+
+There was sudden movement down below. One of the four under
+observation--and now that Clive and Bert had changed their point of
+vantage, invisible to them, for they were almost directly beneath--rose
+from the stone seat he had been occupying, kicked the logs on the fire
+till they sent a stream of sparks upward, and then sauntered out into
+that part of the chapel exposed to the sky. Where a roof should have
+been, there was now nothing but the broken ends of what had, doubtless,
+once been finely carved stone arches. They poked their shattered tips
+from the farther wall like so many fingers, and attracted the attention
+of the fellow below. Seeing him suddenly appear, Clive lay even flatter,
+and he, too, took stock of those remains of broken arches. And then,
+straightway, he pictured the chapel as it had been, with its carved and
+ornamental roof, its beautiful stone pillars, its aisles, its pews. And
+in amongst the latter those people of a bygone day. Men in armour,
+ladies in the fashion of the time, retainers stationed everywhere. He
+even fancied he heard the low-voiced music of the organ, the chanting of
+the choir, the deep bass notes of the priest in attendance. And then he
+was startled into the reality of things as they were. For the man below
+was speaking. Despite his clothes, one would have sworn that he had some
+pretensions to being a gentleman. He was still smoking a cigarette, and
+now knocked the end against one of the pillars of the chapel so as to
+clear it of ash. Then he looked around, as if admiring the ruins.
+
+"A queer place to be hidden in, eh?" he asked, flourishing the
+cigarette. "Romantic and all that. Haunted, they tell me. All the
+better. No one likely to interfere."
+
+His voice was singularly tuneful. Had Clive or Bert met him elsewhere
+and seen him dressed in other raiment they would decidedly have
+proclaimed him to be a gentleman. But then, the times we live in are
+strange ones.
+
+"The most honest, sometimes the most ragged," Bert murmured. "The more
+gentlemanly, sometimes the cleverer rascal. That chap's good looking."
+
+Clive nodded. "Yes," he said. "I believe I've seen him somewhere else
+before this."
+
+"Round about here?"
+
+This time Clive shook his head. He could not recollect; but of this he
+was sure, he had seen this man, and under different circumstances.
+
+"I'll swear he was well dressed then," he whispered. "But let's shut up.
+They're gassing."
+
+"All the better," repeated the man out in the open, stretching his arms
+and yawning. "There's less chance of interference. But I'll tell you
+this. I'd rather we could work during the daytime than at night. I never
+was one for staying up. I'm a beggar to sleep. If only every other
+person would sleep during the hours of daylight, I for one would be
+contented."
+
+"Listen to the selfish beggar," came an answer from directly beneath the
+listeners. "Here's Joe wishes to be left alone to do his work during the
+daytime, just because he likes to sleep at night. As if he weren't
+having his reward. Listen to this, Joe. Good things are not to be had
+without the expenditure of trouble, and without inconvenience to one's
+self. That's something worth remembering. Think what you get for a
+night's work. More than the average man makes in a whole year, perhaps.
+And if we're lucky, and things turn out as we hope, why, there's a
+fortune for each one of us. We're out for a big haul. The stuff's there,
+or should be. There don't seem a chance of our being interfered with,
+while here's Peter, who knows the inns and outs of every corner, able to
+advise us where to work, and, what's even better, able to keep watch
+when we're gone, and no doubt to throw dust in the eyes of those who
+might be inquisitive."
+
+"For instance, the police," came from the third man, with a satirical
+laugh. "I'd just like to know what they'll make of this business we're
+after. But we've been too cute for 'em up to now, and I'm not afraid of
+running across them. This haul's bound to be either nothing or a real
+big un, and if it is, why, there'll be quite a little excitement in the
+neighbourhood."
+
+Bert nudged Clive. "Hear that?" he asked, in a whisper. "They're going
+to attempt a haul."
+
+"Here, too," answered Clive excitedly. "But exactly where?"
+
+"Ah! That's what we've got to discover. They've evidently put the police
+off the scent, and we were quite right in thinking that the fellow who
+lives in this place picks up all local information for these fellows.
+Look out! They're at it again."
+
+"Say, Joe," they heard from one of the men still invisible. "Let's look
+at that sketch again. I'm not sure where the window actually is, nor in
+what condition. But perhaps Peter will tell us. Now, lad, let's hear
+it."
+
+There was a short pause, and then another voice chimed in, one less
+musical and far less cultured.
+
+"The window. Oh, ah! Well, now, it's right away agin the very corner,
+and if there ever was a window that was strong, why, it's that there
+window. But the job can be done, particular by you gents that has had
+sich practice."
+
+"Going to enter by a window," whispered Bert hoarsely. "But where?"
+
+"And seein' as you've got the right sort o' tools, why it's jest as good
+as finished," went on the fellow known as Peter. "After that, why, it
+lies with yourselves. If you're careful I can't see as there's a chance
+of interference, and if the stuff's there, why, you has it. As for the
+police, they're safe. Why, bless you, when there's one of your night
+jobs on, and it ain't quite sort o' healthy for the police to be about,
+I jest manages to send 'em word somehow that there's a poachin' business
+comin' off, and that there poachin' business ain't never in the
+neighbourhood you're workin'. What's more, the news ain't never given by
+me, nor by the same man, never. Them police is jest little babies."
+
+Evidently Peter had little opinion of the arm of the law. He held the
+local sergeant and his constable in open contempt, and now he was
+gloating over the clever means by which he had managed to hoodwink them.
+Clive heard him cackling. He slouched out into the open, crammed his
+pipe with tobacco which the man called Joe offered, and lit the weed by
+means of a piece of smouldering wood picked from the fire.
+
+As for Clive and Bert, they withdrew a little later. They were still
+wanting precise information as to the part where this burglary was to be
+attempted, and they were not at all sure that the plan was to be carried
+out that night.
+
+"But it's likely enough," reflected Bert. "Chaps like these don't come
+down to the country to hang about. They've chosen one of the large
+houses, and Peter will have thrown dust in the eyes of the police and
+sent 'em in the opposite direction. To-night'll be dark, for there's no
+moon just now. Now, what's to be done in the matter?"
+
+That was a most difficult question. Gathered about the window by which
+they had entered, the three debated the point with hushed voice and
+eager gesture. Observation and the words they had overheard had been
+amply sufficient to convince them of the importance of their discovery.
+Only their own determination had gained admission to the ruined tower
+for them. But thanks to that they had unearthed a nest of burglars. The
+matter could not rest there.
+
+"Impossible!" declared Bert resolutely, which sentiment Clive and Hugh
+echoed. "We'd have the neighbourhood shouting taunts at us and declaring
+we were funks. Those chaps below have brought this thing on themselves.
+They ought to have seen to it that no one could clamber into the tower.
+They didn't. That's their fault. But, as a result, we know that they're
+burglars."
+
+"Yes. Regular rotters," Hugh agreed.
+
+"And our duty's as plain as possible."
+
+Clive pushed his hands deep into his pockets and looked decidedly
+stubborn.
+
+"Yes, it is a duty," Bert admitted. "What's more, we're going to carry
+it through. Just you chaps shut up talking while I think a bit. You gas
+so much that you make a fellow's wits go wandering."
+
+He had become quite spiteful. Hugh actually flinched under this
+reprimand and failed to retort. Clive coloured, looked indignant, and
+then turned to gaze out of the window. Each was therefore left to his
+thoughts, and though a method of procedure might not yet have been come
+at, this was quite certain: each one was fully determined that nothing
+should make him flinch from the task so unexpectedly set him. The arrest
+of those scheming burglars was decidedly a duty.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+ROUNDING UP THE BURGLARS
+
+
+The predicament in which Bert and his friends found themselves after
+overhearing the discussion between the four men in the chapel of the
+tower was by no means lessened by an event which happened within five
+minutes of the return of Clive and Bert. They were grouped round the
+window through which they had gained entrance, debating the question.
+Bert, in the manner he favoured when addressing the members of that
+august assembly known as the Ranleigh School Debating Society, stood
+with his hands beneath his coat, firmly clenched at his back. He leaned
+slightly forward, wagged his head impressively when he wished to make a
+point, and silenced interruption with a keen and sometimes threatening
+glance.
+
+"There you are," he was saying, as if summing up the whole position.
+
+"We arrive here after a bit of a climb."
+
+"Yes, we all know that," interjected Hugh impatiently. "If we hadn't
+arrived here, why--well, we shouldn't be here, should we?"
+
+"Don't talk rot," came the rejoinder. "We arrive here after a climb; we
+discover four blackguards----"
+
+"One moment," said Clive, gently enough, for he was positively fearful
+now of incurring the censure of the great Bert. "You must admit that
+they don't exactly appear to be blackguards. One, for instance----"
+
+Bert tossed his head impatiently. He freed one hand from behind his
+back, and still leaving the other in its old position, holding his
+coat-tails in air, lifted the first, protruded a forefinger and held it
+out in a manner half appealing and certainly a little threatening.
+
+"Do let's get on," he growled. "Who's such an ass not to know that
+modern burglars are often swells?"
+
+"Agreed," cried Hugh, while Clive nodded.
+
+"All the swell mobsmen of to-day cut a dash. Probably they've been to
+the best of schools, and if only you knew it, you rub shoulders with
+them when you go to dances and dinners and the theatre."
+
+Bert was really terrific. Hugh blushed to think of his boldness. As if
+he and his brother were in the habit of going to dances, of being
+invited to dinners, and of accompanying friends to the theatre. Catch
+them being bored with one or the other! Why, Bert had only said on the
+previous day that dances were a nuisance. That he preferred cricket.
+That dinners didn't interest him, for people talked such rot. Besides, a
+chap couldn't get half enough to eat. As to theatres, well, there he had
+waxed quite indignant. Theatres indeed! Drivel! That had been his actual
+expression. And here he was holding forth! Hugh opened his mouth to
+protest.
+
+"I say! Draw it mild. How can chaps rub shoulders with burglars at
+dances, dinners, and theatres if they never go, or hardly ever?"
+
+Bert fixed him with a piercing glance. "Ass!" he hissed. "Who's meaning
+us? You means Dick and Tom and Harry. I wouldn't be bored with such
+things. But other folks are, and they rub shoulders with fine fellows,
+handsome chaps able to debate any question, and in the King's best
+English too, who are common robbers all the same. But you wouldn't be
+supposed to know all that, Hugh. You're too young."
+
+There was pity in his tones. Hugh crumpled up instantly. His indignation
+a few hours ago would have been surprising. He might even have launched
+himself at Bert, for sometimes their breezes led to violence. But now?
+He wished the ground would open and swallow him. Bert's scorn and pity
+made him positively miserable.
+
+"Sorry!" he managed to murmur.
+
+"Oh, you can't help that, no more can Clive. You're both of you kids,
+and it's kindest to tell you. But do let us get ahead. We've discovered
+four blackguards down below, and we know the police are after them. We
+have heard of frequent burglaries in these parts of late, and we have
+overheard these fellows boasting of how they have put the police off the
+track. Now they're contemplating another. We've got to act, and----"
+
+It was just at this precise moment that the event occurred which added
+to their difficulties, and, in fact, threw them into a condition of
+great excitement. A low, reverberating crash came bursting through the
+doorway of the room and reached their ears sharply. They looked at one
+another in dismay.
+
+"A revolver shot," said Bert hoarsely.
+
+"Perhaps they've had a row," suggested Clive after a minute's silence.
+"Perhaps they were dividing the stuff taken on former occasions and
+couldn't agree. There's another."
+
+Five shots rang out in swift succession, and there was a half-smothered
+shout. Hugh looked doubtfully out of the window. He wondered if Bert
+would recommend a precipitate retirement, and sincerely hoped he would.
+Clive, too, followed the direction of his glance, and felt somewhat
+faint-hearted. But Bert rose to the occasion, just as he had done
+before.
+
+"You stay here. I'll go and see what's happening," he said.
+
+"I'll come too," cried Clive eagerly, while Hugh showed a decided
+inclination to follow. But their friend checked the impulse with a wave
+of his hand.
+
+"Stay here," he said. "If there's shooting, better have only one hurt.
+If I don't get back within five minutes you'll know that something's
+happened. Then bolt for it. Hunt up the police, tell 'em the whole tale,
+and bring 'em along with you. Of course, they'd better come armed.
+Rather! Listen to that. There's more shooting. They must be hiding
+behind the pillars and potting at one another. Now, do as you're told.
+Just hop if I'm not back in five minutes."
+
+He went off without another glance at them, and we must record the
+impression his courage created. Clive and Hugh were positively
+astounded.
+
+"Never knew him like this before. What's happened to him?" asked the
+former.
+
+Hugh shook his head dolefully. The whole thing was astounding and
+somewhat painful. Even in the midst of such excitement the thought was
+uppermost in his mind that Bert had shone brightly in this adventure,
+while he, Hugh, who as a rule thrust himself to the front as if he
+recognised his own superiority, was acting like a baby, and would
+willingly have bolted a moment ago if it hadn't been for his brother's
+example.
+
+"I'm jiggered!" was all that he could exclaim, somewhat mournfully.
+
+Afterwards they stood by the window listening eagerly, every little
+sound causing them to stir and start. And when the shots were repeated,
+which was every few moments, they positively jumped.
+
+How slowly those fatal minutes passed too. Clive dragged a battered
+Waterbury from his waistcoat pocket, shook it violently to make sure
+that it was running, for, in spite of its general excellence, this same
+watch had of late struck work on occasion. What else could you expect?
+The ingenious Clive and Hugh had imagined that they had a startling
+improvement to add to the watch. It had surprised them that no
+watchmaker had ever hit upon such a simple invention. The thing was, in
+fact, brilliant and childishly simple, so much so that they burned to
+put it into practice. That meant that the cheap but reliable Waterbury
+possessed by Clive had promptly been laid on the operating table. Its
+vitals had been exposed. Its springs had been stirred with a canny
+instrument of Clive's own making, and then, the greatest triumph of
+all, the simple and brilliant improvement had been added.
+
+"Simply ripping!" was Hugh's enthusiastic comment, as he watched his
+friend's dexterous fingers. "It'll go like a bird after this. You'll
+make a pot of money by selling the invention."
+
+Alas! The stupid watch resented this unasked-for interference. There was
+something wrong with the invention added. Perhaps it didn't fit. Perhaps
+the vitals of the Waterbury had been slightly injured. Whatever the
+cause, the watch refused to go regularly after that experiment, even
+though Clive reluctantly withdrew his brilliant addition from the
+interior. It had a habit of stopping. Then it would plunge ahead without
+rhyme or reason. But it was going now.
+
+"He left us two minutes twenty seconds ago," he said hoarsely.
+
+"And gave us the limit of five. My eye! Ain't they shooting! It must be
+a regular battle."
+
+The shots came frequently still to their ears, sharp and very distinct,
+while occasionally there was a shout. Hugh looked out of the window,
+wondering whether anyone passing on the road would hear the noise and
+come in their direction.
+
+"We'd wave then," he told Clive.
+
+"What?" asked that latter, giving his Waterbury a bang on the stone
+edge of the window. "Beastly thing's trying to stop. It gave a sort of
+whir. You know. You've heard it."
+
+"I was wondering if anyone on the road would hear and come along. We'd
+wave," repeated Hugh.
+
+"Of course. Any juggins would do that. But they won't hear. The sound
+breaks up in the building. You wouldn't hear it if you were down below
+in that old garden. How's time? I do wish Bert'd come back. Supposing he
+don't? What then?"
+
+"We run for it."
+
+"And leave him?"
+
+"Those were his or--er, his wishes," said Hugh hurriedly.
+
+"Oh! Then I suppose we must, though I don't like leaving him. But it's
+better than all being murdered. George! It's four minutes five seconds
+since he left us."
+
+They counted the remaining seconds anxiously. They were breathless when
+the full five minutes had gone. Clive tucked the Waterbury sadly back
+into his pocket and looked enquiringly at his friend.
+
+"Give him five minutes' grace," he said.
+
+Hugh nodded. He noticed that the firing had become almost furious. Then
+there was a loud and startled shout, when it ceased all of a sudden.
+
+There was blank despair on their faces now. What better evidence could
+they have of Bert's downfall?
+
+"Those brutes have bagged him," groaned Hugh. "If--if only we had
+revolvers."
+
+"I'm awfully sorry," said Clive lamely, for Hugh looked as if he would
+burst into tears.
+
+"Awfully near blubbing," Clive told himself. And then, as if he felt
+that the responsibility of the situation had fallen on his own
+shoulders, he clutched Hugh by the arm and thrust him towards the
+window.
+
+"Let's go," he said. "No use giving him longer grace. Let's get off to
+the police. We can then show them the way back and help in the capture."
+
+Sadly and desperately did the two clamber down the ivy to the ground
+beneath. They sneaked away from the tower as if they were afraid that
+shots might follow them. Then they plunged into the copse in which their
+bicycles lay, and having found the latter, mounted their own and
+sprinted off to the village as fast as the wheels and their feet would
+allow. Two breathless lads at length threw themselves from their
+machines at the gate of the cottage which did duty as a police depot.
+
+"What's amiss?" asked the police sergeant, coming to the door in his
+shirt sleeves to answer their loud and peremptory summons. "What!
+Mister Clive and Mister Hugh! You ain't been diggin' more pits fer Mr.
+Rawlings, have you?"
+
+There was a stupid grin on his face. His insolence made the boys' blood
+boil. Were they never to hear the last of that business?
+
+"I'm fairly sick of hearing of it," Hugh had grumbled on the previous
+day, for as is the case in the country, the tale had flown swiftly. Sly
+glances of amusement were cast after the retreating figure of Mr.
+Rawlings. That pompous individual now was far less patronising than on
+former occasions. He even nodded, instead of treating those who greeted
+him politely, as is the pleasant fashion in the country, to a lordly
+lifting of his stick. Mrs. Darrell's gardener chuckled perhaps half a
+dozen times a day when he thought of the occurrence.
+
+"Of all the imps, them's they," he had often asserted down at the public
+which he frequented. "And mind you, I ain't so sure as some of their
+elders and their betters too, as you'd think, ain't mightily pleased at
+what happened. Bless you! The parson, he sent his boys away to school at
+once. Mister Hugh, he tells me that he and Mr. Bert come in fer a
+lickin'. But that don't prevent parson from bein' amused, do it? That
+don't prevent him thinking that it sarved Mr. Rawlings right. It's just
+this. You think of a man as you find him, and parson don't think much of
+him up at the Hall, if I'm a good un at guessing."
+
+Whether the old fellow was a good un or not, the fact remained that the
+story was known far and wide, and the boyish escapade of our heroes
+condoned, if not actually approved of. Still, it was galling, to say the
+least, to call upon a police sergeant and to have the fellow casting the
+same old tale at them.
+
+Clive lifted his head pompously. It was a way his father had had when in
+possession of the property, though he was an easy enough man to get on
+with. The sergeant recognised the movement. He remembered a reprimand he
+himself had received from Clive's father. Suddenly he lost his grin and
+became stern and attentive.
+
+"Beggin' pardon," he said, "but what's happened? A fire? Or is it
+someone that's got killed? Or is it poachers?"
+
+"Poachers?" asked Hugh in astonishment.
+
+"Poachers, to be sure. Haven't I been worrited almost off my head of
+late with tales of 'em, and information that they was working? There's
+that farmer Stiggins. He comes ridin' in two weeks ago and says as
+there's going to be a raid by poachers up at Squire Green's covers way
+over by Pendleton Bottom. I gets on my bicycle, calls for Irwin, the
+constable, along by the cross roads, and we goes and hides with the
+keepers. But no poachers come along. Young gents, there was a burglary
+that night over in the opposite direction. There was three of 'em at it,
+we reckoned, and they got clear away with five diamond rings, silver
+forks and knives by the bushel, a box o' cigars, a bottle o' brandy and
+a self-filling pen. You ain't come to tell me of more poachers?"
+
+Clive had recovered his breath by then. He was so impatient to tell his
+tale that he could positively have struck the sergeant.
+
+"Poachers! Bother poachers!" he cried, though his eyes went to Hugh's
+with a significance there was no denying. Here, indeed, was
+corroboration of the story he had heard, and more proof, if any were
+needed, of the importance of their discovery. "We've come about
+burglars, your burglars," he cried. "Three of them, and a fourth who
+keeps watch when they're away and sends tales of poachers to the police.
+I heard them telling the story. They've been fooling you nicely, but
+we've got 'em now, sergeant."
+
+It was the officer's turn to gasp. He pushed his untidy hair far back
+from his forehead, and stared hard at the boys.
+
+"Just tell the tale straight through," he said eagerly. "You've bagged
+three burglars, you two has done that--never!"
+
+"Ass! Who said we'd bagged them?" shouted Hugh angrily. "We've found out
+where they're hiding. We listened to their talk, and we know that they
+intend to make another attempt at burglary this very evening. They
+started shooting----"
+
+"Ah!" The sergeant started and flushed. "Then they're armed?" he asked,
+with some show of anxiety.
+
+"Rather! Huge revolvers. They started a row. Bert--you know my
+brother--well, he was awfully plucky. He went off to see what the row
+was about, and they shot him."
+
+His lip trembled. Hugh had been too fully engaged up till now to realise
+the seriousness of his probable loss. But the mention of it to the
+sergeant unnerved and unmanned him for the moment. A second later he was
+watching the sergeant closely. The latter dived into the narrow opening
+of his cottage, reached for his coat and helmet and donned them swiftly,
+as much as to say that the very action made him into a real sergeant and
+showed that he was ready to do his duty. Then he produced a note-book,
+drew out a pencil and bit the lead. Having opened the book, he then
+looked at a watch as ponderous as Clive's Waterbury and noted the time
+down in his book with a business-like air which was most impressive. A
+few scribbled lines were hurriedly added.
+
+"'At two fifty-two I was called by Mister Darrell and Mister Hugh
+Seymour,'" he read. "'They was on bicycles.'"
+
+"Wrong," interrupted the latter. "We'd dismounted."
+
+"But you come on bicycles," the sergeant reproved him severely. "'From
+information then received I learned that the said young gentlemen had
+discovered four burglars, the same as did a robbery two weeks ago, and
+the same most likely as has done others in these parts. From information
+received----'"
+
+"You've said that once," said Clive impatiently.
+
+"And I'll have to say it again. It's the law," declared the officer
+sternly. "It's the law, sir. 'Well, from information received, I learned
+that the said burglars were armed, and that Mister Bert Seymour had been
+shot.' Now, where's the place?"
+
+"The old tower that's haunted."
+
+"Ha! I suspected it. I've seed lights there of nights of late. People
+says it's haunted; but I'd made up my mind to see what them lights
+meant. It's lucky you went there first. I'd have been there to-night,
+perhaps, young gents. So it's at the tower? And there's four of the
+ruffians? That means that help's required. You young gentlemen come
+along with me at once. There's no time to be lost. I'll pick up the
+constable, and then get along to the Rector and Mr. Newdigate. They're
+magistrates."
+
+Once more the officer dived into his cottage, to appear again armed with
+a bludgeon and wheeling his bicycle. In a trice they were all three
+mounted and racing away towards the cross roads, where the constable had
+his quarters. By the time the Rectory was reached their excitement had,
+if anything, increased, the more so since a dozen or more of the
+neighbours had joined them. Stevens, the village butcher, followed in
+his cart, a hay-fork gripped in one hand so as to be ready. There were a
+couple of young farm labourers, the local sweep, a big lusty fellow who
+might be expected to tackle at least two of the burglars. Ahead went the
+Rector, mounted on his tricycle, and very soon the second of the
+magistrates had joined him riding in his car, to which the Rector
+transferred his person, loaning his own machine to Tom, a youth employed
+about the village. By the time the cavalcade came in sight of Merton
+Tower there were at least twenty followers, while the brace of shot-guns
+resting in the back of the leading car showed that the band were bent on
+business, and were determined to meet violence with violence.
+
+"If they shoots, why, of course, I shoot," the sergeant told Hugh
+hoarsely as they came nearer to the tower. "I don't like bloodshed--not
+me! But when there's desperate criminals to be dealt with, why, they has
+to have what they deserves. Where did you say you left the road to get
+at the tower?"
+
+The two who had given the alarm, and had helped to discover the
+burglars, promptly pointed out the spot, and dismounted opposite the gap
+through which they had passed with their machines. The car was brought
+to a standstill instantly, and a boy who had attached himself to the
+gang a little time before was left in charge. Then, headed by Clive and
+Hugh, with the sergeant and the constable immediately behind them, and
+followed by the Rector and his fellow magistrate, the whole party thrust
+their way quietly through the cover of the wood which led to the base of
+the tower. Very soon they were halted at the edge of the copse, with the
+massive door within sight of them.
+
+"That's where we got in," whispered Clive, pointing to the window above,
+and to the ivy growing thickly up to it.
+
+"You clambered up by the ivy!" gasped the Rector, turning pale. "What
+recklessness! But we can't do that. Are the doors bolted?"
+
+"Fast," said Hugh. "But there's a postern in one, which is padlocked."
+
+"Then we'll soon make short work o' that," declared the sergeant,
+suddenly taking the lead. "Now, gentlemen, we've got to take
+precautions, or else we'll have these gaolbirds escaping. Constable, you
+just slip round to the far side, taking a few of these lads with you,
+and watch to see that no one breaks away. Take one of the guns, and
+shoot if one of the four we're after lifts a weapon or refuses to
+surrender."
+
+There was determination written on the face of the officer. Some of the
+gaping rustics around turned pale beneath their tan. The Rector raised
+one hand as if to protest, and then, realising the situation, refrained
+from speaking.
+
+"Now," went on the officer, "I take the other gun. Bill Watson, you've
+brought along that bar I asked for?"
+
+A burly fellow with a smith's apron around his middle came forward. "I'm
+ready," he said. "If there's a padlock, it won't stand much from this
+thing. But supposing they shoot?"
+
+"I'll be there beside you," said the sergeant at once. "Don't you fear.
+If there's going to be hanky-panky, I'll be first with it."
+
+By now the constable had gone off to the far side of the tower, taking
+some of the gang with him. All was in readiness for the attack upon the
+stronghold of the burglars. The sergeant looked about him to make sure
+that every avenue of escape was closed, and then led the way forward
+from cover. The smith went with him, the Rector and his fellow
+magistrate followed, while the rustics came in rear, some rather
+timorously, some impelled merely by overweening curiosity, others
+because of their natural courage.
+
+"Now, Bill Watson, do your duty," commanded the sergeant, when they had
+reached the doors. "In the name of the King, break open that lock."
+
+Bill made short work of the matter. His bar was thrust at once into the
+hasp of the lock. He put his weight into the business. There was a dull
+snap, and at once the padlock fell from the door. Promptly the sergeant
+pushed it open and made ready to enter.
+
+"Gentlemen," he said, turning to those who stood about him, "in the
+execution of my duty I am bound to enter. I can ask, but cannot demand
+your help."
+
+Hugh almost cheered him. The fellow was so cool, and so dignified. One
+saw that he was ready if need be to enter alone, and brave the very
+worst. But that, of course, was out of the question. Hugh pressed
+forward and Clive with him. The Rector lifted his hat and stepped up to
+the door, and then one by one they entered. It was dark within, but a
+match which the officer struck showed that the way was clear. Guided by
+Clive, he went in the direction of the chapel. They crossed the floor of
+a huge room, passed through a wide passage, and then came to a doorway.
+Ah! the space beyond was flooded with light. It was clear that here the
+roof had fallen.
+
+"The chapel," whispered Clive.
+
+"And the burglars," said Hugh, beneath his breath, pointing to four
+figures in the distance.
+
+"Forward!" ordered the sergeant sternly. "Rush 'em!"
+
+[Illustration: "'FORWARD!' ORDERED THE SERGEANT STERNLY. 'RUSH 'EM!'"]
+
+They started out into the chapel at a run. With a shout of triumph they
+threw themselves upon the four men within, bowled them over before they
+had recovered from their astonishment or could use their weapons, and
+soon had them tethered in the corners. It was exciting work while it
+lasted. Clive and Hugh tackled Peter, and were almost killed by the
+frantic struggles of that burly ruffian. It took them quite three
+minutes to recover their breath. Then they went to one of the corners,
+where poor Bert lay huddled on the same iron bedstead which he and Clive
+had noticed.
+
+"Merely stunned, not otherwise hurt," said the Rector, who was bending
+over him. "It seems that he must have fallen from the floor above. I
+will cross-question those ruffians."
+
+The three fellows whom Bert and his friends had decided must be swell
+mobsmen stood at the far end of the chapel surrounded by a crowd of
+exultant rustics, and now with hands firmly bound. A great noise came
+from their direction, and going towards them Clive heard first one and
+then another of the dishevelled rascals expostulating.
+
+"What's the meaning of this violence and of this extraordinary assault?"
+the man whom Clive knew as Joe was demanding. "Answer at once, sergeant.
+Why are peaceful people thus attacked and set upon by ruffians with an
+officer of the law to lead them?"
+
+That officer might have been a mile away. He stood, note-book and pencil
+in hand, and once more took the time by his watch.
+
+"I have to warn you that anything you say will be used in evidence
+against you," he said coolly, having noted the time.
+
+"Humbug! Evidence indeed! You'll require that, my man," came the heated
+answer.
+
+"I charge you with being notorious burglars, with lying here ready to
+commit another offence. My witnesses, who overheard you discussing your
+plans, are Mister Clive Darrell and Mister Hugh Seymour."
+
+Very pompously did the sergeant give the information. The man called
+Joe looked as if he would explode, so great was his indignation. But
+though the mention of our two young friends' names may have meant
+nothing to him, they seemed to attract the attention of another of the
+three who stood in the background till that moment almost unobserved. He
+started forward, looked closely at Clive and Hugh, and then, to the
+amazement of his comrades and all present, broke into a fit of
+uncontrollable laughter. He almost grovelled in his ecstasy. The Rector
+was really alarmed for the man's reason, while Bill Watson, the smith,
+stepped farther away and raised his iron bar in readiness for
+self-protection. It was Joe and the sergeant who first noticed the
+curious change which had come over Clive and his young friend. They were
+backing away. They looked horribly frightened. Clive had gone a fiery
+red, while Hugh was almost purple. They looked, in fact, as if they had
+seen the ghost said to haunt this ancient tower, and as if the sight had
+scared them out of their wits.
+
+"I--I think we'd better be going," Clive managed to blurt out at last.
+
+"Er--yes," agreed Hugh huskily.
+
+"One moment, young gents," said the sergeant. "Why, if that chap ain't
+still laughin'. See here, my man, you just cut it short, or----"
+
+He was interrupted by another gust. The burglar immediately in front of
+the one so vastly amused joined him in his merriment. Then Joe saw the
+fun, wherever it existed, and presently there were all three shaking
+with mirth, while their captors looked on sternly. And then the one who
+had set the fashion stepped to the front, torn and dishevelled after his
+encounter. Clive and Hugh backed away, and would have bolted, but at a
+glance from him stood rooted to the spot.
+
+"Sergeant," said the man, "I'm Mr. Canning, a master at Ranleigh School.
+Ask those boys if they recognise me."
+
+No need to ask. The faces of our two young friends supplied the answer.
+It was actually and decidedly Mr. Canning, the "Peach," as many called
+him, because of his blooming cheeks, the master so fond of giving
+"impots." Clive groaned aloud as he looked at him. Hugh wished the
+remaining roof of the chapel might fall in and bury him yards deep.
+
+"Oh!" exclaimed the sergeant, looking glum of a sudden.
+
+"And these are my friends. Mr. Oxon here, whom we call Joe, is the owner
+of Merton Tower. To proceed, there is a legend of buried treasure. He
+has lately come upon a clue hidden away in an ancient family manuscript.
+What more natural than that he should invite his friends to help him
+search for the missing valuables? What more natural than that the
+strictest secrecy should be employed? That these boys have discovered us
+is unfortunate. The fact that we have been taken for burglars is readily
+understood. It is a most excusable and humorous mistake. Allow me to
+assure you that we are the most harmless of individuals. As to the boy
+who fell into the chapel, he is merely stunned. We have been wondering
+how he managed to get into the tower. I suppose I should have recognised
+him. I didn't. As to the shots, we were merely amusing ourselves with a
+six-shooter. There. You have a full explanation."
+
+Oh, the misery of it all! The stern looks of the Rector, the grins of
+the rustics, the smothered anger of the sergeant and constable. Never
+were Clive and Bert and Hugh more miserable than on the days which
+followed. People laughed aloud whenever they met them. At church half
+the congregation stared them out of face. While the thought that Mr.
+Canning had been one of their captures made all three turn almost yellow
+at the thought of the coming term at Ranleigh and the consequences of
+their late adventure. The worst of all undoubtedly was the fact that
+Masters managed to get wind of the business.
+
+"How's burglars?" he asked, ungrammatically, immediately on encountering
+his old friends on their return to Ranleigh.
+
+There was strife for the ten minutes which followed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+TRENDALL AND SOME OTHERS
+
+
+After all, Masters had to have his joke, and knowing that
+inconsequential and extraordinary young gentleman as we do now, we can
+imagine that even the fierce ire of Hugh and of Bert and Clive had
+little terrors for him. He harped on that stale old joke of the
+burglars.
+
+"How's burglars?" he fired off at the unfortunate heroes of that late
+adventure quite a dozen times within the first twenty-four hours of
+their return to Ranleigh, and was promptly hustled. Then, too, think of
+the bitterness of it all, the "Peach," the placid Mr. Canning, smiled at
+them and winked.
+
+"Like his beastly cheek!" declared Clive indignantly, speaking in
+undertones to Bert and Hugh. "See the beggar smile and wink?"
+
+"Grinned, the beast!" said Hugh, his lips pursed together. Hugh always
+did that when he was annoyed. He appeared to be endeavouring to muzzle
+himself, as if long experience of his temper warned him that an open
+mouth would result in some very bitter sayings. "Grinned, ugh!" he
+repeated.
+
+"After all," began Bert, in those aggravatingly droning and dreamy tones
+of his, "you can't exactly blame the fellow, now can you?"
+
+"Eh?" asked Hugh sharply. Here was an opportunity to be taken. A few
+more words from his respected brother would lead to a flare-up between
+them. Hugh rather wanted that. It would clear the air and get rid of
+some of his own irritability.
+
+"Sticking up for the Canning beast, eh?" he demanded threateningly.
+
+"No. Not quite, but--well, if you were in his shoes----"
+
+"I'm not," snapped Hugh.
+
+"But, if you were, you'd----"
+
+"Wouldn't deign to wear 'em, ever," declared his brother haughtily.
+
+"Oh, well, let's imagine someone else wearing them. He'd grin, wouldn't
+he? It was mighty funny, you know--er--for Canning."
+
+"Oh, shut up!" shouted Hugh.
+
+"Let's talk of something else," suggested Clive. "I say, the school's
+going to the dickens."
+
+"Without Harvey, yes," assented Hugh, forgetting his irritation for the
+moment. "What'll we do? Who'll be captain of the school?"
+
+They looked blankly at one another. To speak the truth, a bomb had
+fallen squarely into the middle of Ranleigh boys. Harvey, the head
+scholar and captain of the school, had left suddenly. He was not to
+have said good-bye for a couple of terms. But the Head had announced
+within a few hours of their return that Harvey had been called abroad
+suddenly to join his father in India. It was, without a shadow of doubt,
+a terrible blow.
+
+"What'll we do?" asked Hugh blankly, appealing to the members of the Old
+Firm, now gathered about him. "The school'll go to the dogs."
+
+"Not while the Old Firm's lively," said Masters.
+
+"Try me as captain," suggested Susanne, with one of his quiet grins.
+
+"Oh, do let's talk sense!" cried Clive pettishly. "It'd be ripping if
+Sturton got it. He's in the running, he's a scholar, and he's splendid
+at games. George! wouldn't he give some of the outside footer teams
+socks if he were captain."
+
+But, till the point was cleared up, and the Upper Sixth had duly met
+together to discuss this momentous question and elect a captain, there
+was unusual despondency throughout the school. The Old Firm went about
+disconsolately that afternoon after their arrival.
+
+"Nothing to do. Nowhere to go. Nothing decent," grumbled Hugh.
+
+"Except impots," said Masters, with a scowl. "I've still some unfinished
+for that fellow Canning. A chap never gets clear of them at this
+school. I complained to the Governor."
+
+"Ah. What happened?" asked Bert.
+
+There was silence for a moment. Masters looked anything but pleased at
+the train of thought the question gave rise to.
+
+"Let's do something pleasant," he said. "My Governor don't understand a
+fellow. To begin with, look at my allowance! A dog'd be disgusted. As
+for the impots, he laughed--laughed, I tell you."
+
+Bert grinned. This question of impots was in the case of Masters quite
+an amusing affair. Besides, whenever the matter was mentioned Bert's
+mind always went back to the day when Clive's magic pen was brought into
+requisition, and when Masters had conducted his work so skilfully that
+he had contrived to ruin the tablecloth and drench himself in ink. But
+to grin at this point was dangerous. Bert straightened his features
+while Susanne changed the conversation.
+
+"Hullo! Here's Trendall," he said. "He and Rawlings don't speak
+nowadays. I'm a bit sorry for that fellow."
+
+"So am I," agreed Bert.
+
+"Acted like an idiot. Might have belonged to the Old Firm if he'd
+behaved," remarked Hugh magnanimously.
+
+"Let's invite him to feed," suggested Clive of a sudden.
+
+"I say!" cried Masters, hearing the words. "You know--well, I don't
+mind, of course. In fact, glad to invite him. But Trendall's a fellow to
+eat; it'd be expensive."
+
+"Hang expense! Hi, Trendall!" shouted Susanne, always the prince of good
+fellows.
+
+The object of their regard was at that moment crossing the quad, looking
+forlorn and unhappy. The new term had begun badly for him, in fact. He
+was depressed like every other fellow at the thought of Ranleigh's loss.
+And then, slowly but surely, and in some few cases rapidly and with
+uncouth bluntness, he was being led to see that he was by no means a
+popular individual.
+
+"Sit next one another in Hall?" he had asked Marsham, once quite a
+friend of his.
+
+"Promised," came the surly answer.
+
+"But there's another side. I'll sit there."
+
+"Blandy's bagged it; you can't," Marsham told him sharply.
+
+Thereat Trendall swallowed his annoyance and went elsewhere. But what a
+change it was to the commencement of the term before, when Clive had
+first made the acquaintance of Ranleigh! Then Rawlings and Trendall had
+grandly elected their table companions. No one had then been strong
+enough to refuse their invitation. Still, Trendall had not yet had his
+full lesson.
+
+"I say, Wilkins," he began, accosting one of his own form fellows,
+"how'd it be if we went clubs with our grub this term? You know, I've
+had a bit of a turn up with Rawlings, and you and I have always been
+pals."
+
+Wilkins was a thin, hook-nosed individual, with sandy hair already
+thinning at the temples, prominent cheek bones, a bent figure, and a
+pair of curious pink eyes which long ago had given him the soubriquet of
+the "Rabbit." He was one of those ill-developed youths who always appear
+anxious and hungry. But he had his good points, plenty of them, and was
+friendly with the majority.
+
+"What say, Rabbit?" added Trendall, with all his old assurance.
+
+"Thanks; not for me," came the chilling answer. "Try Parkin Tertius.
+He's new this term. He don't know too much about you."
+
+"Look here!" ejaculated Trendall angrily. And then, recollecting the
+change in his circumstances, and deciding that he could not afford to be
+pugnacious, turned mildly upon Wilkins.
+
+"Don't be funny, Rabbit," he said in tones almost of entreaty.
+
+"Rabbit! Hang your cheek! I'm Wilkins to you, Trendall. Just see that
+you don't forget it."
+
+His own particular friends would have smiled at Wilkins' fierceness. The
+Rabbit was the very last person to act in this manner. A little while
+ago he would never have dared speak to Trendall with such directness.
+Not that he was taking advantage now of the downfall of that young
+fellow. Wilkins was merely disgusted with him, just as were the majority
+of Ranleigh, and meant to let him know it. And after all, perhaps the
+Rabbit was doing Trendall a real service in thus dealing with him. For
+bluntness at school brings its lessons. It is never pleasant, perhaps,
+but it is more bearable there than in later life, when lessons are
+assimilated less easily.
+
+Trendall turned sadly on his heel and went off dejectedly, his hands
+sunk deep in his pockets. At the corner of the corridor he came face to
+face with Rawlings, when the two passed one another without even
+nodding.
+
+"Who funked after Guildford?" The gibe came floating down the corridor.
+"Who sat tight so as to let Susanne and his crowd get a whacking for
+you?" came with maddening distinctness.
+
+Rawlings stopped abruptly. He felt almost impelled to return to
+Trendall's side as if to claim his support at such a moment. But
+Trendall was already moving rapidly away. With cheeks aflame and despair
+at his heart he raced from the corridor, leaving Rawlings to face the
+tormentors. Flushed to the roots of his hair, his hands in his jacket
+pockets, Rawlings strode majestically forward. He could see a bunch of
+small boys at the far end of the corridor, and made no doubt that they
+were the authors of those gibes.
+
+"Come here, Jarvis," he commanded huskily, singling out a lad somewhat
+taller than the others. "What do you mean by shouting in the corridor?"
+
+"Shan't!" was the answer flung at him. "You're not a prefect now, and
+I've as much right to shout in the corridor as you have."
+
+Rawlings lifted his hand threateningly. Jarvis dived swiftly, twisted
+out of the grip of the bigger boy, kicked his legs from beneath him and
+then bolted.
+
+"Who left Susanne's gang in the lurch?" came screaming down at Rawlings.
+
+"Look out!" shouted Jarvis, hugely delighted at the success of his
+movements, and at seeing the bully sprawling. "Susanne's coming. Better
+hop, Rawlings. Susanne's promised to give you a hiding."
+
+To return to Trendall, he dashed away from the corridor, hid his face in
+his class-room for a while, and then sauntered aimlessly across the
+quad, his chin sunk disconsolately on his chest, his hands once more
+buried deep in his pockets.
+
+"Hi! Trendall!" he heard, and took no notice; doubtless it was those
+kids again.
+
+"Little brutes," he growled. "All the same, we deserve it. Rawlings and
+I acted like low-down cowards. We left Susanne and his crowd to stand
+the whole trouble. We were found out, as I was sure would be the case.
+It'd have been better to have owned up. I would have done but for
+Rawlings. But there, we acted like hounds. Now they're making us pay for
+it."
+
+"Hi! Trendall!" came floating once more across the quad. "Look sharp,
+there's a good fellow."
+
+There was something kind about the voice. Trendall looked up and over at
+the far side. His cheeks flushed instantly, for there were Susanne and
+his friends beckoning to him. He hesitated. It was true that at the end
+of last term he had made amends to the Old Firm, and they had
+magnanimously shaken hands with him. But were they really inclined to be
+friendly? Had the intervening holiday swept away such good intentions?
+
+"Well?" he asked doubtfully.
+
+"Come over here," shouted Clive. "We want to speak to you."
+
+"Rotten this about Harvey, eh?" began Susanne when at last Trendall had
+joined them, and was standing somewhat shamefacedly near the group.
+"Makes a chap feel like kicking the bucket. Let's have a feed, eh?"
+
+"You know, over by the tuck-boxes," said Clive, nodding vigorously.
+
+"Bert's got some ripping sardines," Masters informed the company. "And
+there's a whole loaf of new bread in my box. At least, it was new two
+days ago. Expect it'll be a bit hard now. But there's heaps of butter. I
+sneaked a whole heap from the kitchen. You see, our cook's a perfect
+ripper."
+
+"This way," pointed Hugh, leading the party off to the huge room wherein
+tuck-boxes were stored. "We've fixed the whole business you know,
+Trendall. It's to be a sort of feast of peace. Something after the style
+of Red Indians smoking the pipe of peace. Susanne wanted it to be that
+really, using a pipe he's brought from home with him. But eating's
+better. Besides, there's a heap of stuff that must be tackled soon or it
+won't be fit for consumption. Here, take a pew."
+
+Trendall was breathless. When one came to look at him now it appeared as
+if he had lost a good deal of his usual flabbiness. His cheeks seemed no
+longer fat and jowly. His whole aspect was more alert and pleasing. And
+now there was positively a smile on his lips, a glad smile, a smile
+almost of gratitude.
+
+"Awfully decent of you chaps," he said.
+
+"Rot! Try a sardine," cried Susanne, stripping the lid off and handing
+the tin. "Sorry there ain't forks, Trendall, but then, fingers first,
+eh? Hook one out with your penknife if you like. But it's easy enough
+to get hold of a tail. They are splendid like that. You just eat them
+like the Italians eat macaroni. Only look out. Sometimes the tail breaks
+away, and an oily sardine makes a beast of a mess on a fellow's
+breeches."
+
+"Ripping!" ejaculated Trendall, swallowing his second sardine. "But, I
+say, I'm having more than my fair share."
+
+"There's heaps more," declared Clive instantly. "We want you to have a
+real solid feed. Like those biscuits?"
+
+"Look here, you fellows," said Trendall, and then paused, as if he had
+not the courage to continue.
+
+The Old Firm became silent for the moment, Masters because he could
+hardly be expected to answer, seeing that his mouth was stuffed with
+bread liberally coated with butter and jam. They looked at their old
+enemy in a manner which showed their friendship. In fact, it was obvious
+to anyone who cared to look, and to Trendall certainly, that this was
+undoubtedly the Old Firm's method of showing their feelings.
+
+"Ham, eh?" asked Susanne, breaking a somewhat trying silence, and
+offering their guest a huge slice hacked from a joint by means of
+Clive's penknife.
+
+"Thanks. It's mighty kind of you chaps, but, really, I feel an awful
+brute to take your things and enjoy your hospitality. I----"
+
+"Oh, that's all right," smiled Bert, looking straight at him. "Bygones
+are bygones, Trendall. We're burying the hatchet."
+
+They were burying a good deal more to look at Hugh and Masters. The
+enormous masses of food those two healthy youngsters were causing to
+disappear threatened them with apoplexy.
+
+"And, you know," said Susanne, "we're jolly glad to have you with us.
+The Old Firm don't like having enemies. This feast's to celebrate the
+loss of one of 'em, and to offer him friendship."
+
+"Friendship! You--you don't mean----" began Trendall almost
+breathlessly, and then, remembering the painful experience he had
+already had, stopped abruptly. But Susanne's happy, open smile reassured
+him. Clive improved the occasion by offering their guest an enormous
+apple, while Masters bashed a hole in the lid of a tin of sweetened milk
+and held it out invitingly.
+
+"You have first go," he said. "I daren't offer it to Hugh. He's such a
+thirsty beggar, and Clive's no better. Better have the first shot,
+Trendall. Then you're sure to get plenty."
+
+But their guest declined the invitation with a shake of the head. For
+the moment his thoughts choked him. He gulped. Looking at him, Susanne
+felt sorry for their late enemy, for he was so obviously overcome by
+this cordial welcome.
+
+"We understand all about it, don't you know, Trendall," he ventured, as
+if to save Trendall. "They're all bygones. We begin afresh here. You're
+one of us."
+
+"You don't mean that you--want me to join you? That you would be glad to
+have me with you?" gulped Trendall, perspiration now on his forehead,
+the huge slice of ham on the lid of a tin box, serving as a plate, now
+neglected. "I--I----"
+
+"That is, we'd like it, if you would," cried Bert, who had a knack of
+always saying the right thing at the right moment.
+
+"You see," reflected Clive, "the Old Firm ain't a limited company. We've
+powers always to add to our numbers. We go on the principle of 'the more
+the merrier'--in reason, of course. Well, there's the invitation. Join
+the Board. Become one of the unlimited."
+
+There were positively tears in Trendall's eyes. He pitched the tin lid
+to the floor and stood up. Clive could see that his knees were actually
+shaking. His face had gone a deadly pale colour. His breath came fast
+and deep and in jerks. Bert was terribly afraid lest he should faint and
+fall at the feet of those who were doing him this honour. Then a flush
+came to the sallow cheeks. Those who had known Trendall in the old days,
+the bad days when Rawlings dominated his thoughts and actions, would,
+had they seen him at this moment, have declared without hesitation that
+now they saw a vast improvement. The old sly, sneaking air was gone.
+This young fellow was no longer filled with arrogance. And when he
+smiled at Susanne and Clive and the others, genuine friendship looked
+out of his eyes, even if the latter were somewhat blurred by the mist
+which had risen so suddenly to cloud them.
+
+"I'll join gladly," he said, with a catch in his voice. "If only you
+fellows knew how gladly! I've been a pig in the past."
+
+"Hush!" interrupted Bert. "Bygones, you know, Trendall."
+
+"Are bygones, and not to be remembered," cried Masters, having now got
+rid of the huge hunch of bread which had obstructed his vocal organs.
+
+"Then let's shake hands again," said Trendall. "You can't tell how
+decent I think it of you fellows."
+
+It was decent. When the Old Firm--that is to say, its first
+members--came later on to discuss the matter, they agreed that they had
+behaved nobly.
+
+"Of course, we might have kept the enmity up for a long while," said
+Masters. "That'd have made Trendall sit up a trifle. But it's better to
+be friends. And think how useful."
+
+"Useful. How's that?" asked Bert.
+
+"Well, to commence with, Trendall's a slogging good chap at classics. If
+I'm in a hole ever----"
+
+"You're always in one," laughed Bert, interrupting him.
+
+"There's Trendall to help me," continued Masters, scowling at the
+interrupter.
+
+"A nice way to look at a friendship!" jeered Susanne. "What next?"
+
+"Well, you know," said Masters lamely, "I used to sit within sight of
+Trendall."
+
+"That's why you warned us that he was such an eater," cried Clive. "He
+didn't do much this time, anyway."
+
+"It wasn't that I meant. But Trendall's a lucky beggar," said Masters,
+his eyes opening at the thought of what he'd seen. "Talk about a spread
+at table! Why, his people sent him a whole turkey last term, a turkey
+ready cooked, with sausages. I just wanted that turkey. Wish my people'd
+think sometimes that turkey's good for fellows at Ranleigh."
+
+Everyone, no doubt, have their own way of looking at the same matter.
+Masters at the moment viewed the addition of Trendall to the Old Firm
+from the point of view of what he personally would gain. Not that he
+was really serious. It may be said, in fact, that Masters was above such
+pettishness. Still, it was true enough that Trendall was first rate at
+classics, while Masters was an utter duffer. A little help now and again
+would certainly be an advantage. As for the turkey, well, it was known
+that Trendall had ripping hampers. Why shouldn't the Old Firm rejoice at
+their coming?
+
+It may be imagined, too, that this sudden accession of Trendall to the
+ranks of Susanne and Clive and Company created quite a storm at
+Ranleigh. That very afternoon they were seen for the first time
+strolling arm in arm across the ground sloping down in front of the
+school. They were laughing and chatting as if there had never been such
+a thing as a disagreement between them. Then they turned into the
+tuck-shop, and casual visitors there saw and marvelled at Trendall
+treating fellows to apple tarts and cups of tea or coffee to whom, a
+couple of months before, they could imagine his administering something
+far less pleasant. That evening, in Hall, Rawlings saw the members of
+the Firm gaily signalling to one another, while, as if to make matters
+worse, there was Trendall seated comfortably between Hugh and Bert
+Seymour. Rawlings scowled behind his cup. He kicked savagely at the boy
+opposite when he remarked on this singular friendship which had arisen
+so unexpectedly. And then he found his attention caught by the entry of
+the members of the Upper Sixth. They came in in single file. There was
+Sturton, tall and cool and unconcerned. Stebbins, the fellow next behind
+him, a strong candidate for the captaincy, looked bored and sullen.
+Fellows liked him at Ranleigh; but not as they liked Sturton. Then came
+Bagshaw, "the oyster" as some called him, the poet, the leader writer,
+pale of face, stooping and delicate, but with flashing eye and jovial
+smile which were always captivating. You could knock poor Bagshaw down
+with the greatest ease. A fellow in Middle School could defeat him
+without the need to remove a coat. And yet Bagshaw was a power in the
+school, a force there was no denying. The most muscular boy had been
+known to tremble before him. It was said of Bagshaw that even Mr.
+Canning felt less assurance when "the oyster" was his opponent at the
+weekly meetings of the Debating Society.
+
+Slowly, one by one, they filed to their places, while the heads of all
+at Ranleigh were turned to watch them. And then the figure of the Head
+suddenly appeared on the dais, with the master of the week beside him.
+
+"Sturton is elected Captain of Ranleigh," he declared, and then
+disappeared with a discretion there was no denying.
+
+"Hooray! Three cheers for Sturton!" bellowed one of his supporters.
+
+The boys shouted till they were hoarse. Bert and Hugh and Trendall did
+their best to drown the shouts of those beside them. Susanne beat the
+table with a knife till the noise was deafening.
+
+"Speech! Speech! Speech!" came thundering through the Hall; and--who
+would have thought it?--it was Bagshaw the delicate who possessed that
+enormously deep voice. Then Sturton popped up on the dais, and waited
+there for silence.
+
+"You fellows," he began, his hands deep in his pockets, a habit at
+Ranleigh as elsewhere, "I'm awfully sorry about Harvey----"
+
+Cheers. Counter cheers from opposite sides of the Hall. "For he's a
+jolly good fellow," started by Masters, and dropped with suddenness when
+that young gentleman found himself the only one chanting.
+
+"He was a rattling good fellow"--more cheers. "One of the very best"--a
+perfect tornado--"and we all loved him. I say that he was one of the
+best captains this school has ever seen"--more cheers. "You'll do as
+well," was shouted from the far end of the Hall. "Hooray for Sturton!"
+
+"I'll do my level best, be sure of that," went on Sturton. "I want to
+thank the Upper Sixth for choosing me, and you fellows for applauding
+their selection. I'm going to work hard. I'm going to make you fellows
+work hard too, I can tell you." "Shame!" from the end of the Hall.
+Laughter throughout. "Not me," from the irrepressible Masters.
+
+"Yes, and Masters too," continued Sturton, at which there was another
+outburst of merriment. "We're all going to work hard. We're going to
+train steadily, and at the end of the term we're going to pull off that
+footer cup we've been so long after. You fellows, three cheers for
+Harvey!"
+
+They gave them with a vigour there was no denying. Ranleighans shouted
+themselves hoarse in their exuberance. And then they filed out of the
+Hall where many busy tongues commenced wagging.
+
+"Don't seem so bad after all," observed Clive. "This afternoon
+everything was at sixes and sevens, and a fellow could have sworn that
+we were in for a sickening term. Now it's A1. Sturton's Captain."
+
+It was a fine thing for Ranleigh too. Harvey had been a fine fellow and
+a first-class leader. Sturton was to be as good. We shall see what he
+did with the material he had to handle, and how he made ready for the
+great day when Ranleigh was to fail or triumph.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+THE STRENUOUS LIFE
+
+
+Sturton was as good as his word when he said he meant to work and to
+make the rest of the school work with him.
+
+"A regular nigger-driver," grumbled Masters, his face as long as a
+fiddle as he read the announcement on the board in the corridor close to
+the quad. "Listen to this. Here's a oner."
+
+Very slowly, for he was not an expert at reading aloud, Masters gave the
+crowd about him the contents of the notice. There was no doubt about it
+either, bold though the innovation was. Sturton had put it down in big
+black letters which there was no mistaking.
+
+     "Notice!" it read. "In future, with a view to bringing those at
+     Ranleigh to a condition of fitness, there will be compulsory
+     exercise for all daily. The head prefect of each dormitory will
+     present a list to the Captain at the end of each week, setting out
+     against the name of each boy what exercise he has taken daily. It
+     will be left to the honour of individual boys to make a truthful
+     return. Exercise may take the form of football, fives, running, or
+     gymnastics. At least an hour and a half must be spent at one of
+     these. For football boys may join their own dormitory scratch
+     games. For fives they may make up a four as formerly. In the Gym.
+     they will be under the direction of the sergeant. On Saturdays
+     there will be dormitory football, save when there is a school
+     match. Once a week there will be a school run.
+
+     "E. STURTON."
+
+There it was in cold letters.
+
+"When do we breathe and sleep?" gasped Masters, when he had assimilated
+the whole of this momentous notice. "This means slavery."
+
+"Rot!" ejaculated Bert, who happened to be near him. "It'll mean a deal
+less loafing, less guzzling at the tuck, or round where the tuck-boxes
+are kept, and a deal more fitness about the fellows."
+
+"Hooray for Sturton! He means business."
+
+It may be imagined that the innovation was discussed from every point of
+view. There were plenty of fellows at Ranleigh who eagerly welcomed the
+change.
+
+"It's the best way of dealing with slackers without a doubt," said
+Bagshaw. "Wish I could take part in the thing myself. By the way, of
+course Sturton ought to put something about boys being excused who are
+ill, and so on."
+
+A second notice was pinned beneath the first without delay, which made
+the position perfectly clear, while it showed that the Captain had no
+idea of altering his decision.
+
+"Those in the 'sick-room' will be shown as so in dormitory lists," it
+ran. "Those permanently excused active exercise by doctor's orders will,
+if fit for the same, carry goal-posts, referee, or otherwise make
+themselves useful and interested in the games of their fellows. Absence
+from the school will be the only other excuse taken."
+
+"And what if we kick and decline to be run about by this fellow
+Sturton?" asked Rawlings, who had now managed to chum up with one named
+Norman, head prefect of West Dormitory, a somewhat sulky, nerveless
+individual. It was a matter for wonder, in fact, how he had contrived to
+ascend to the post of head prefect of West. Certainly his own ambitions
+and efforts had not carried him to that exalted station. But he happened
+to be a brilliant mathematician, and by no means backward in other
+branches of his studies, and had therefore soon arrived at the Sixth
+Form. Force of custom rather than anything else had made a prefect of
+him. As a consequence, West, once noted for its brilliance in games, had
+not improved under his leadership. If Norman could have his own way he
+would have allowed matters to go on much as they were before Harvey took
+the lead. He had grumbled then at the added energy required. He
+positively growled when he had read Sturton's notice.
+
+"What if we kick?" he repeated, for in Rawlings he found a ready and
+sympathetic listener. "What'll he do? Can't kick the whole lot of us,
+can he?"
+
+"Then he'd have to grin and bear it," smiled Rawlings sardonically. "One
+would think we'd come to Ranleigh to be at Sturton's beck and call.
+Supposing a chap hates games; he's got to play 'em simply because of
+this idiot. What will you do? Cave in?"
+
+The question was artfully put. Rawlings made Norman believe that he
+thought that such a course was only natural. In effect, he very strongly
+hinted that Norman had no alternative, that he was too weak, and that he
+was afraid of incurring Sturton's displeasure. And as may be imagined
+with a sulky individual like Norman, opposed to active exercise of any
+sort, sulkiness became swiftly stubbornness. From that instant Norman
+made up his mind to oppose the captain of the school to the utmost
+extent, in which decision he was secretly and actively encouraged and
+helped by Rawlings.
+
+"Of course, I'll have to send in this bothering weekly return," said
+Norman, after a while, when the matter came up again for discussion.
+"But that doesn't say that I'm going to bother whether the fellows have
+actually been playing footer or fives or--what's the other, there's such
+a heap of 'em?"
+
+"Gym. Wonder it isn't skittles."
+
+"Well, I shan't bother, and you can let the fellows know that."
+
+West soon gathered the meaning of their prefect. For the benefit of that
+dormitory, and to the credit of the majority of its members, it may be
+stated that few availed themselves of the dark hints thrown out by
+Rawlings. Sturton was a general favourite, and Ranleigh boys were wise
+enough to see that a certain amount of exercise was good for everyone,
+while it certainly helped to make them efficient in games and gave added
+chances in school matches. _Esprit de corps_ was by no means dead in
+West, and much to Norman's annoyance a goodly proportion of the boys
+there followed Sturton's wishes to the very letter. A few did not. They
+banded themselves on the side of Norman and Rawlings. At the Saturday
+matches played between teams selected from individual dormitories the
+play of the boys of West was marked by slovenliness on the part of some,
+by desperate eagerness on the part of others. Even Sturton couldn't help
+noticing the matter.
+
+"It's that fellow Norman, with Rawlings behind him," said Bagshaw, who
+was the Captain's right-hand man, just as he had been in the case of
+Harvey. Bagshaw was, indeed, a born organiser and leader. Had he been
+possessed of health and strength there was not the smallest doubt that
+he would have been Ranleigh's Captain. But none but an active leader is
+understood of schoolboys. Ranleigh liked and admired Bagshaw. Often
+enough he was feared. But he was never admired as were Harvey and
+Sturton.
+
+"Pity, too," added Bagshaw. "Norman's a queer fellow, and wants
+understanding. He can be as nice as possible if properly handled, and as
+sulky as a bear if crossed. There's no doubt that he's made up his mind
+to break this scheme you've started."
+
+"Then he must stand by the consequences. But I'd be sorry to have an
+upset. Look here, Bagshaw," said Sturton, "take an opportunity to speak
+to him. Persuade him in a friendly way, and not as if I wished it, to
+play the game and help the scheme. Everywhere else it has been
+swallowed. Fellows are as keen as mustard, and what is more, I'm sure
+they are happier. For there's always something to do now. It's too early
+to speak yet, but the Head says he thinks the boys look better. You have
+a chat with Norman."
+
+No better envoy could have been selected. Bagshaw was a master of tact
+and discretion, and it followed, therefore, that he allowed several days
+to pass before accosting Norman, and even then it appeared to be a
+purely accidental meeting. Moreover, the result of his tactful
+discussion was, for the moment, excellent. Norman saw the error of his
+ways. A strong character such as Bagshaw's easily appealed to and swayed
+him. But there was Rawlings to reckon with, and that immaculate and
+scheming gentleman rapidly set himself to work to upset all the good
+Bagshaw had accomplished.
+
+"So you're going to work in with Sturton?" he asked, with a sneering
+smile, when Norman had confided in him. "Congratulations!"
+
+"What else can a fellow do? He asked me," answered Norman lamely, half
+apologetically, for Rawlings' sneers and gibes made him flinch.
+
+"What else? Oh, nothing. Of course he asked you," said Rawlings
+meaningly.
+
+"Eh? Why?"
+
+"Well, he couldn't do anything else, could he? Sturton can't compel.
+This is a free country. Supposing you kicked? Why, we then come back to
+the very question you asked when this tomfoolery was first started.
+Supposing you kick? What can Sturton do?"
+
+"Yes, I see; so we have. It's the same question over again," admitted
+Norman.
+
+"Well, and what can he do?"
+
+Norman was floored. Rawlings had the peculiar power of always making him
+feel as if he were a weakling and a fool, and as if others were getting
+the best of him. He only wished that Bagshaw had had that discussion
+with Rawlings, or when he was present. He felt angry with himself, and,
+of a sudden, angry with Rawlings for his asserted superiority.
+
+"Look here! You always know best what to do. Or think you do," he stated
+bluntly. "What'd you do if you were in my place?"
+
+"Not be led by the nose, that's one thing. Not allow the wind to blow me
+both ways. Not give in as soon as I found out that a fellow was afraid
+of me."
+
+"Afraid of me! Sturton? Not he."
+
+"Sturton, yes," said Rawlings, with another of those satirical smiles.
+"Else why did he send Bagshaw to interview you? He knows you're kicking.
+What can he do? He's floored. He's bound to send round and ask you to be
+a good boy and help him."
+
+"But--but Bagshaw didn't say that," replied Norman desperately. "He
+pointed out that it was a pity that I should be the exception. He asked
+me to think of the school."
+
+"School be hanged!" declared Rawlings. "It's Sturton, Bagshaw's asked
+you to think of. This is his pet scheme. Chaps have swallowed it because
+they couldn't help. You hate it. Then why be a mug and let him win you
+round with tales of the school and its honour, and so forth?"
+
+All the good that Bagshaw had effected was destroyed in a few moments.
+Norman was, as we have said, one of those vacillating fellows whose
+opinions a breath will change. And here was Rawlings persuading him
+against his better feelings, and persuading him, too, without much
+difficulty. It may be said, indeed, that Rawlings had a perfect mastery
+in that direction. It was a pity that he did not use his powers to
+better purpose, while for the one he so easily twisted round his
+fingers, it may be said that it was a pity in his case that Sturton did
+not at once deal severely with him. For discipline and force are also
+persuasive powers. There are many youths and men also who, when left to
+their own devices, pursue a crooked line, their course marked by
+tempers, perverseness, and ill-feeling. But, if compelled by a strong
+hand, one they recognise as strong, run a course marked by its
+directness, and distinguished by eagerness for their task, enthusiasm
+for their leader, and the very best of tempers. Norman had it in him to
+behave like that. As a leader, even in a small way, he was worse almost
+than useless. Driven if need be, or led if he were wise, he could be a
+most excellent ally.
+
+However, for the moment he had been persuaded into opposing Sturton's
+excellent scheme, and we must leave him and West Dormitory to their
+devices.
+
+Discussion in the ranks of the Old Firm waxed furious when first Sturton
+posted his notice. But a few hours' contemplation, and some heated
+arguments, soon made converts of them. Even Masters grumblingly assented
+to the scheme.
+
+"Awful nuisance, of course," he said. "But there's one thing."
+
+"What's that?" demanded Bert.
+
+"Exercise don't give time for impots. That beast Canning'll have to do
+without 'em."
+
+But, strangely enough, Masters began to escape impots. Seeing the energy
+with which his friends threw themselves into the Captain's scheme, he
+had perforce to do likewise, and to his own astonishment he found the
+inclination to work in form time greater, the temptation to misbehave
+less, while he was distinctly less inattentive. But there was something
+more. He and Clive were deadly in earnest where football was concerned.
+They played respectively inside and outside right in the forward line,
+and but a few days from the beginning of the term had been lucky enough
+to attract Sturton's attention.
+
+"George!" he remarked to Bagshaw, always his close attendant. "Didn't
+know those youngsters had it in them. At any rate, I didn't think
+Masters could be half as fast. He stuffs so much one would think it
+impossible. Look at 'em now. They've got the ball between them. Pretty!"
+he shouted. "Well done, Masters and Darrell."
+
+You could have dug a pin in deep without Clive flinching. So greatly was
+he elated that he would easily have borne any suffering; while, as to
+the pain of a pin prick, that was nothing. It was part of the entrance
+rites of the Old Firm that a member must bear the thrust of a pin till
+it was buried to the head, and that without flinching.
+
+"Worth watching, those two youngsters. Good fellows," said Bagshaw, who
+knew the inner history of every boy. "Might, one day, do for the team."
+
+Sturton looked the two youngsters carefully up and down.
+
+"Might," he agreed. "Two years hence, perhaps. They're real nippy
+forwards, and ain't selfish. Just look at Susanne!"
+
+The latter attracted and held their attention for some while, for the
+Frenchman was a promising player. Slow, but strong, he played an
+excellent game at back, and had the weight and size for kicking.
+
+"In a year he'd be big enough and know enough of the game," said
+Sturton. "Put him down, Bagshaw."
+
+That day, in fact, saw the names of four of the Old Firm entered in
+Bagshaw's list of promising Ranleighans. For in the Gym they came across
+Hugh disporting himself on the horizontal bar, where he performed
+cleverly.
+
+"Yes, sir. Make a good gymnast. Been trained badly or not at all," the
+sergeant told them. "But I'm watching him. This Mister Seymour'll be
+good to watch and bring along. Ranleigh could do with another of those
+challenge shields from Aldershot."
+
+He nodded across to the wall of the Gym, whereon hung the shield won
+outright at the Aldershot public schools competition.
+
+A month made an indisputable difference to Ranleighans. Steady, daily
+exercise told its tale without a doubt. The health of the school was
+decidedly better. True, the Head had at first been astounded and almost
+alarmed at the increased amount consumed at meal time. But then, the
+tuck was less often visited. Boys who in past times had lolled the
+afternoons away because there was nothing to do, now had no time to
+slack over their tuck-boxes and gorge. It was becoming almost bad form
+to gorge, though due allowance was, of course, made for the natural
+capacity of growing boys. And then, throughout the school there had
+arisen a friendly rivalry. The Head, with that discretion which marked
+him, came forward with a dormitory cup for runs, and this was to be won
+by the dormitory receiving the greater number of marks at the end of the
+term for the prowess of its individuals. Another dormitory cup was put
+up by a friend for football, and a third for gymnastics.
+
+But the chief inducement of all, the aim and object of the whole school
+without exception, for even here Rawlings and Norman were in agreement,
+was the great annual football match with Parkland School, on this
+occasion to be played at Ranleigh.
+
+"Harvey did his best to win, so did others before him," asserted
+Sturton, when six weeks of the term had gone and already a marked
+improvement in the playing of football had been apparent. "We'll do our
+utmost too, and choose our men carefully. I'm going to make a change
+this time."
+
+"What's that?" demanded Bagshaw.
+
+"Choose my men early, play them constantly, and fill up gaps and the
+places of those who go back in their play with reserves on my list. The
+most important thing is to get our team playing together, so as to know
+one another. Of course, we've a match against Ringham boys, and one or
+two others. But we've always beaten them in past years, and will do so
+again easily. So I mean to raise a team of masters and boys. Fortunately
+there are a number of the masters who play keenly, and they with
+selected boys will put up a game which will test the fellows we choose
+for the big match. How's that?"
+
+The scheme, added to Sturton's other one, was, in fact, good, and, we
+must add, one practised at many schools. By carefully watching the
+dormitory games, and checking the playing of boys whose names had been
+recommended by their prefects, Sturton soon had a list of likely
+players. Two elevens were chosen from these, and a fine game played
+between them, when the Head himself helped in the selection of the final
+eleven. Then, once every week, and rather oftener as the great day
+approached, this eleven played a strenuous game against another composed
+of masters and boys, while Bagshaw coached them and refereed at one and
+the same moment. A looker on at that game could not have helped admit
+that one and all were in fine condition. After all, boys cannot take
+part in a weekly run, the length of which was gradually extended, in
+daily exercise of some energetic nature, in gymnastics and fives and
+what not, without becoming wonderfully fit. There was also the regular
+morning dip, which, though not compulsory, had now become a regular
+habit with the entire school. So popular was the notion indeed, that
+boys now descended by dormitories, times being arranged, and a limited
+period being given for the bathing.
+
+Even West Dormitory had come up to scratch, while Norman, at first
+grudgingly, and now with generous openness, expressed his approval of
+Sturton's scheme, and applauded its success. But then, Bagshaw had had
+something to say to that. There had been a discussion between himself
+and Sturton and the Head, and as a result Rawlings had been promoted to
+another dormitory.
+
+"On probation, you will please understand," said the Head, kindly but
+seriously, when informing that lordly gentleman. "Last term I had the
+painful task of degrading you. Now I am advised that it would be as well
+to give you another trial. You will go to East, where I hope you will
+remain next term as a prefect."
+
+As it happened, there was a sterling fellow in charge of East, a tall,
+burly youth from Australia; one, too, in the habit of calling a spade a
+spade, and intensely loyal to his school.
+
+"Just the fellow to sit on Rawlings if he wishes to belittle the new
+scheme," Bagshaw had advised. "At any rate, he's not likely to come
+under his influence. If the Head would move Rawlings there, on
+probation, and say nothing to Harper, in East, why, no one'll be the
+wiser, and Norman, left to himself, will see that he's been acting like
+a fool, and will come into line with the others."
+
+The wise Bagshaw was of huge value to Sturton and to the school
+generally. The plan he proposed, and which the Head adopted, worked
+wonderfully. Norman regained his keenness of a sudden, while Rawlings
+found himself in strange quarters. He despised this big Australian
+Harper. But he took good care not to let him see that he did so, for
+Harper was not the one to put up with nonsense. Rawlings was even wise
+enough to keep his sneers and gibes to himself for a while, till he knew
+exactly what his senior's feelings were. And on the first occasion,
+when, imagining Harper to have cause for displeasure with Sturton, he
+ventured to disparage that fine fellow, and belittle his scheme, Harper
+turned upon him like a tiger.
+
+"That's your sort, is it?" he asked grimly. "Don't you let me hear you
+say another word against Sturton or this scheme he's started. And look
+here, Rawlings. I noticed you skulking last dormitory run. You'll lead
+our fellows to-morrow, and I'll be with you."
+
+Thereafter Rawlings kept very much to himself. He hated Harper, hated
+the exercise he was bound to take, and loathed Ranleigh. But, then, that
+was because he was too arrogant and selfish for his fellows. If he were
+disgusted, and if Harper's open contempt of him galled, there were
+plenty of others at Ranleigh who loved the place, who gloried in the
+improvement which Sturton had wrought, and who awaited the final test
+with eagerness and no little assurance.
+
+"We'll lick those Parkland fellows hollow," declared Masters, as he lay
+in bed one evening.
+
+"If we can," ejaculated Susanne, with caution.
+
+"If we can!" cried Masters indignantly, sitting up promptly. "There's a
+thing to say! Why, even Sturton says we've a chance, and that's
+something."
+
+It was a great deal, in fact. Sturton had taken pains to ascertain the
+fighting strength of Parkland. Against that he weighed the prowess of
+his own team. And, though unusually reserved in such matters, the
+admission had been dragged from him that Ranleigh had a chance. That
+chance the following Saturday was to see made absolutely certain or
+dashed aside. Ranleigh awaited the day with a curious mixture of fear
+and eagerness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+STURTON'S POLICY IS VINDICATED
+
+
+The great day at length arrived, the day on which Ranleigh was to rise
+to the giddy heights of success, or to fall once more beneath the
+hitherto superior attack of Parkland boys. A cold wintry sun peeped in
+at the dormer windows of the dormitories as the boys were rising, and
+set them cheering. They started the noise in West, actually in West
+Dormitory, where Norman, in place of scowling severely upon the
+delinquents, even encouraged them. The cheering was taken up in all the
+four South Dormitories, so loudly too, that the Head, still abed in his
+own house close adjacent, turned out in a violent hurry.
+
+"What's that?" he demanded, appearing on the landing in dressing-gown
+and slippers, a somewhat dishevelled object it must be admitted, and one
+at the moment hardly likely to have awed the school had he come before
+them. "What's that, Jarvis?"
+
+The latter was a youth employed about the house, at that moment on his
+knees and supposed to be scrubbing the hall floor. But Jarvis was not
+at work. He was listening intently, and just before the eager question
+was flung at him he actually raised his scrubbing brush, waved it
+violently overhead and gave vent to a cheer of his own.
+
+"Stop that nonsense!" commanded the Head. "What's this stupid noise
+for?"
+
+Jarvis, still brush in air, gaped at him in horror. Then he grinned.
+After all, those who knew the Head knew him to be a very human
+individual, with an overpowering love for Ranleigh and all that went to
+make the school a success. "Please, sir," he began, and then grinned
+again, while a thunderous burst of cheering came through the open hall
+windows and swelled past the ears of the waiting Head. "Please, sir,
+it's the day," grinned Jarvis. "You've forgotten, sir."
+
+"Day! Of course it's day. It isn't night, stupid!"
+
+"But _the_ day, sir," came the answer.
+
+The Head stamped impatiently. No one was more anxious that Ranleigh
+should win the coming match. But, for all that, he had other worries and
+anxieties, those common to all headmasters, and for the moment he had
+forgotten that this was the day of trial. Then he remembered and gasped.
+
+"To be sure! To be sure, Jarvis! But this noise is most unseemly.
+I--er----"
+
+He paused for a moment and then disappeared. "Leave 'em to it," he told
+himself, with a smile. "Boys will be boys. A little noise means
+encouragement. Let 'em continue."
+
+Ranleigh boys did, with a vengeance. The fellows in North had taken the
+matter up long ago. Any other morning they would have still been abed,
+snuggled down till the very last moment, till they must rush to the
+indoor bath there to take their dip. Now they were up, with towels
+waving overhead, shouting to drown the cheers from South. As to East,
+the lusty Harper himself set an example, which all followed, even
+Rawlings, though somewhat feebly. And then, having had their dip, the
+School dressed with unwonted care and elaboration.
+
+"Of course, you fellows will have to sport the School colours," said
+Masters to the few smaller boys near him in the dormitory, boys with
+whom his reputation was certainly enlarged since his addition to the
+ranks of the Old Firm. "You haven't got any, Tompkins. Then you'll jolly
+well have to find 'em. Sneak someone else's if you can."
+
+"Can't," declared the youthful Tompkins, looking about him helplessly.
+"I've tried. Carter caught me in the act and swore he'd report me for
+prigging."
+
+"Can't! There ain't no such word," said Masters severely, though he had
+used it often enough himself. "Ah! Bright idea! Look here, young un.
+I've two sets. I'll sell you one. Here we are. Dirt cheap! Two bob,
+money down."
+
+That caused Tompkins to look askance at the great Masters. He had a very
+shrewd idea that, whatever the condition of the tie he was asked to
+purchase, he would certainly not be getting the best of the bargain. He
+was sure of it a few seconds later, when the article was produced. It
+was one which Masters had himself bought second, or more likely third or
+fourth hand, and it bore unmistakable evidence of hard and long wear.
+Tompkins turned his nose up.
+
+"That!" he exclaimed. "Two bob! Not me!"
+
+"Look here," said Masters. "None of your cheek, kid. It's a bargain; and
+you'll be jolly well kicked if you don't sport colours."
+
+The end of the matter was that the seller deigned to take sixpence, the
+same to be paid by weekly instalments of one penny, Tompkins being by no
+means flush. Their dressing was hastily completed, when they rushed down
+for call-over and Chapel. Later, at breakfast, heads were turned from
+all directions to watch the various members of the team on whom the
+honour of Ranleigh was to depend. Those lucky gentlemen were eating
+stolidly and with satisfaction. It was clear that, whatever the ordeal
+before them, their appetites were not impaired. As for Sturton, he was
+positively boisterous.
+
+"We'll put up a game, at any rate," he told Bagshaw across the scholars'
+table. "We'll give those Parkland fellows the game of their lives."
+
+"And don't forget," cautioned his friend, "steady does it. Training is
+everything. If Parkland fellows are as fit as ours, why, then the
+tussle'll be all the harder. But if they're not, then we should come
+along well after half's called. That'll be the time to break up their
+defence and run through 'em. So keep our chaps in hand at first. Let 'em
+break out hard once the match is half finished."
+
+There was anxiety even on the faces of the masters. And why not? They
+were every bit as keen as any of the boys. The Old Firm, usually so
+truculent and full of spirits, was quite subdued during morning school.
+The fate of the great day hung like a load upon their shoulders.
+
+"What'd we do if we were beaten?" asked Clive desperately. "Ranleigh'd
+go clean to the dogs."
+
+"Rot!" came Bert's characteristic answer. "We'd just grind away again,
+and beat 'em next time, certain. But Ranleigh's going to win. I've put
+my bat against Masters' tennis shoes, and must have 'em. You'll see.
+Sturton'll pull us through, and those tennis shoes fit me to a T."
+
+Susanne, the friendly Susanne, actually nodded to Rawlings on this great
+day, while Trendall failed to scowl at him as had been his custom. As
+for Rawlings himself, he was in a fever. He wasn't such a cur that he
+didn't wish to see Ranleigh victorious. But, then, victory meant even
+greater popularity for Sturton, for Norman, and for Harper and other
+members of the school, and Rawlings was intensely jealous of anyone's
+popularity. He would have been king of Ranleigh could he have ordered
+it. He would have been the highest and the noblest, and then, what a
+life he would lead some of the fellows! Susanne, for instance--yes, he
+hadn't forgotten Susanne's behaviour, and how he had worsted him at
+their first meeting. Norman, too, for he hated Norman now that he no
+longer could control him, and Clive Darrell. He sneered as he thought of
+the latter, but the sneer became a frown. Rawlings was not quite sure
+what his own particular feelings were as regards our hero. In his heart
+of hearts he rather feared him. And the secret knowledge he had,
+knowledge unsuspected by Clive and his mother, but vaguely suspected
+and hinted at by their old gardener, gave him added cause for fear.
+Still, Clive had nothing to gain by this match against Parkland, and
+therefore Rawlings betook himself to the playing-field with as cheerful
+a face as he could assume, arm in arm with Soper, one of his own kidney,
+a slacker--one, in fact, of Ranleigh's bad bargains.
+
+By two o'clock the field was crammed. Ranleigh boys wandered round and
+round the touch line, cheering madly now and again when they met a crowd
+of opponents. For Parkland was near at hand, and had sent every boy and
+master to watch the historic contest. There was a terrific burst of
+cheering when at length the Parkland eleven put in an appearance. Big,
+hefty fellows, they came down to the field in a group, and, arrived at
+the outskirts, Barlow, their Captain, a fine fellow, even when compared
+with Sturton, took the practice ball and punted it.
+
+"My word!" groaned Masters, watching it soar. "He's a kicker! If they're
+all like him what chance do we stand?"
+
+The question was answered within the minute. For having gone back and
+forth, the ball was finally kicked again toward the entrance to the
+field, for another group of players had suddenly put in an appearance.
+It was Sturton and his eleven. The Captain caught the punted ball in
+mid-air, stepped a couple of paces forward and sent it hurtling toward
+the sky. A terrific cheer greeted the performance and the arrival of the
+home team. Not that Ranleigh had stood still and silent when Barlow and
+the Parkland team came on to the field. They gave them a lusty and noisy
+greeting, while Parkland fellows, naturally enough, yelled at the top of
+their voices. Ranleigh fellows were sportsmen ever, and could afford
+such a welcome. Still, they had their own duties to perform, and they
+let Sturton and his team know well, and Parkland fellows also, that
+their undivided favour went in one direction.
+
+And now the touch-line was black with figures. Already Barlow and his
+men were on the field, while Sturton was just entering the touch-line.
+Clive felt a little cold thrill run down his spine as he watched their
+Captain. Sturton, his head a little in the air, a cool smile on his
+handsome face, led the way direct towards Barlow, and shook that fine
+fellow's hand eagerly. Then followed Robson, a little shorter than
+Sturton, but nicely built, with particularly well-made legs and thighs.
+The back of his head supported his football colours, while issuing from
+beneath the cap was an abundance of fair hair. Robson also sported on
+his upper lip a line of similar-coloured fluff, much to Susanne's envy.
+
+There was Norman close behind, Harper, the big Australian, and Purdey
+arm in arm, laughing heartily at some joke passing between them, Jenkins
+Primus immediately behind them and the remainder of the eleven. There
+was Bagshaw, too, dressed in a new suit of knicker-bockers, with a
+muffler round his neck, a flag in one hand and whistle in his pocket.
+
+"Hooray for Ranleigh!" Masters started the shouting. The boys took it up
+all round the field with a vengeance, while the players arranged
+themselves.
+
+"Parkland! Parkland for ever!" the enemy retorted with tremendous
+cheers, and then broke into the weirdest chant, something particular to
+Parkland.
+
+"Hear 'em singing, or groaning, which is it?" said Masters, with huge
+disdain. "We'll make 'em sing, I can tell you fellows! Hullo, Tompkins,
+where's those colours?"
+
+His grammar was not always too correct, but his meaning was at any rate
+evident. He pounced on Tompkins, tore his coat open and exposed his tie.
+
+"A beastly red thing!" he shouted, seizing it and pulling at it till
+half the unfortunate Tompkins' shirt was dragged about his neck. "Here,
+what's the meaning of this? Treachery, eh?"
+
+He eyed the delinquent fiercely. The wearing of this red tie was not
+only an insult to Ranleigh on such a day, but it was clear disobedience
+of orders. Had he not himself, the great Masters, commanded all the
+small boys of One South to don the School colours?
+
+"Just you hop right off to the school, kid," he commanded severely. "If
+you ain't back here in double quick time with that tie, why--well,
+you'll see. Just fancy a Ranleigh fellow sporting a red tie on a day
+like this! Here, hook it, my beauty."
+
+"But--but," expostulated the unhappy Tompkins--"but, Masters, I say----"
+
+"Don't you say it then," declared that young gentleman fiercely. "Just
+hook it, quick."
+
+"But it's no good going to the school," said Tompkins, determined to
+have a hearing. "You see----"
+
+"I don't. Now, look here," began Masters, getting red in the face, for
+it began to look as if Tompkins would defy him, and already Bert was
+grinning that nasty satirical grin of his which angered other members of
+the Old Firm besides Masters. "I'm not going to stand your gas. You----"
+
+"I tell you it's no good," cried his victim stubbornly. "What's the good
+of going to the school for a thing that isn't there?"
+
+"Not there? Here, you're kidding."
+
+"I'm not. Franklin's got the tie. He's wearing it now. He's got
+something to say to you."
+
+Tompkins was beginning to regain confidence. Masters was as red as any
+beetroot. The mention of Franklin brought something unpleasant to his
+memory. If he could he would have closed this discussion promptly. But
+his victim meant him to have the whole story.
+
+"You see, Masters," he said, "Franklin says he sold you the tie at the
+beginning of the term. You were to pay ninepence for it. You never did.
+Franklin says you gave him a fives ball, and that isn't anything like
+worth the tie. So he's taken it. He wanted one, you see. He's wearing it
+now. If you want me to have it you'd better ask him for it."
+
+Masters growled. He recollected the transaction. "Why, that beast
+Franklin has got the tie and fives ball as well," he shouted.
+
+"And says you owe him ninepence still," grinned Tompkins, while Bert and
+Clive and Hugh joined in the merriment.
+
+"Owe him ninepence still!" their unfortunate comrade exclaimed, with
+every sign of righteous indignation.
+
+"Yes, for hire," grinned Tompkins. "And, of course, our bargain's off.
+Franklin says he means to have his money, too, without waiting. He's
+bigger than you, Masters. I'd pay it if I were in your shoes."
+
+Whereat the worthy Tompkins took himself off, secretly grinning, while
+the great Masters nursed his wrath and put up with the gibes and fun of
+his fellows. Not that he was ragged for long, for the two teams were now
+in position. Bagshaw brought the new match-ball and placed it in the
+middle of the circle marked in the very centre of the ground. Then he
+retired towards the touch-line, inspected his watch, pulled his whistle
+from his pocket, nodded to each Captain in turn, and then blew a shrill
+blast upon it.
+
+They were off. Norman, playing centre-forward, kicked the ball across to
+Sturton, next on his left. The latter dribbled it neatly past a couple
+of the opponents and sent it on to Harper, on the outside left. The
+latter, seeing a crowd converging on him, kicked it right across to
+Bell, on the right of the field. But the enemy's half was down upon him
+in a moment. The ball hurtled back towards the Ranleigh goal, was headed
+by Jones Tertius, Ranleigh's half-back, so celebrated for his tactics,
+was jogged on a little by Harper, and was then taken in hand by Riseau,
+inside right, a quick and clever player. The watching crowds held their
+breath as the leather was rushed up toward the Parkland posts. Riseau
+passed neatly to his left, and well within the Parkland line Harper
+centred. But there the rush ended. A huge fellow, one of the enemy's
+backs, pounced upon the ball, lifted it a couple of yards high with a
+neat movement of his foot, and punted it over the heads of the players.
+
+"Down on it, Parkland. Now's your chance!" bellowed the visitors, while
+Ranleigh fellows looked on in terror. The rush in the opposite direction
+was, in fact, swifter even than had been the previous one undertaken by
+Ranleigh fellows. Barlow shouted to his outside left. The man centred,
+and at once the Captain of the visiting team sent a shot at the goal
+which, but for Moon, would have succeeded. But Moon was a treasure.
+Ranleigh chaps shouted his name till they were hoarse. To this day, and
+for many a day to come, his prowess in goal will be remembered at the
+school. For Moon was a huge fellow, an ox in size and weight and
+muscular development. His arms were of the size of the average fellow's
+legs, and when he hit out his blows were terrific. See him then waiting
+for that shot between the posts of Ranleigh's goal. Not flurried, not at
+all, for Moon was an old hand. Watching eagerly and keenly, balanced on
+his toes, ready to spring to the rescue. And see what followed. Moon's
+right fist swung out, clad in its leather glove. Even Sturton could not
+have kicked the ball harder. Moon's terrific blow sent it soaring away
+over the heads of the players to the centre of the field, thus saving
+the goal for Ranleigh. Ah! They know at Ranleigh how to encourage a man,
+how to show their approval. The groan which went up from the lips of the
+visitors, their grumbles at their want of fortune, were drowned out of
+hearing by the shrill yells of Ranleigh boys, by their mad cheers and
+cries of delight. It was magnificent! Clive felt quite overcome. Masters
+declared that a testimonial must be given to Moon to mark this noble
+occasion, and would, in fact, have commenced a collection at once had
+not Susanne, knowing him somewhat thoroughly, declined to part with even
+a penny.
+
+But the ball was being dealt with actively again. Ranleigh swept it well
+out of their own ground and sent it over the touch-line within easy
+distance of the enemy's goal. A moment later "Hands" was given against
+the home team, while the rush which followed the free kick carried the
+ball within the circle directly in front of Ranleigh goal. Then Moon
+pounced upon the leather, slipped, and fell in the mire. The greasy ball
+squeezed out of his hands as a pip shoots from an orange, there was
+frantic kicking for some few seconds, and then, to the bellows of the
+Parkland boys and groans of the Ranleigh fellows, it was kicked between
+the posts by Barlow.
+
+Clive looked desperately at his fellows. "One to Parkland," he said.
+"They're awful hot. Think we'll be able to stop 'em?"
+
+Susanne nodded his head cheerily. He was feeling just as anxious as the
+rest. But cheerfulness was half the battle with the Frenchman.
+
+"You wait," he said, chewing a pencil. If he had been away from the
+school and its surroundings he would have had a cigarette between his
+lips. For the weed, he often asserted, consoled him wonderfully. "You
+wait till after half. Sturton'll give 'em socks then. Our chaps haven't
+started."
+
+It was evident enough that Ranleigh had on this occasion been taken by
+surprise. The sudden rush of the enemy and the unfortunate slip of Moon
+had resulted in their undoing. But Sturton showed no signs of dismay as
+he led the men back into their own ground.
+
+"Go steady," he whispered to them. "No rushing after this. Of course,
+push 'em for all you know, but keep well in hand. I'm going to stake
+everything on the last half of the game. By then they'll be cooked if
+they're not as fit as fiddles."
+
+When at length Bagshaw's whistle went for half-time, and slices of lemon
+were brought out to the players, the score stood at three to one,
+Ranleigh having secured but a single goal.
+
+"But you'll run up the score when we get going again," declared Bagshaw
+hopefully, as he chatted with the men during the interval. "I'll swear
+their chaps aren't as fit as we are. They've been going hammer and tongs
+all the while, and have only two more goals than we have. You chaps must
+push them hard. Make the running from the very commencement."
+
+If Bagshaw was hopeful, others of Ranleigh School were not. There was
+now an air of depression about the fellows. The cheering of late had
+hardly been so loud or so enthusiastic. Clive wrapped his overcoat a
+little closer round him, for he felt positively chilly, while even
+Susanne looked less cheerful. As for Masters, it was a bitter day. He
+had hoped to be able to look down on Parkland fellows. If he were to be
+hoarse for a week after, it would have been fine to shout them down, to
+answer cheer for cheer. And now it looked as if they would do all the
+cheering. Also, to add to his depression, Franklin found him at
+half-time and became disgustingly insistent.
+
+"You'll just jolly well pay up that ninepence or get kicked, young
+Masters," he said. "It's bad enough to have to lose a match like this,
+for I suppose that that's what's going to happen. I ain't going to lose
+money as well."
+
+"But--but I swapped a fives ball," pleaded Masters feebly. "That's worth
+sixpence."
+
+"Most are; yours wasn't. It went to pieces first game; it was a
+rotter," declared Franklin harshly. "None of your bunkum. That ninepence
+or a kicking."
+
+It was no wonder that Masters welcomed the renewal of the game; though,
+to be sure, he was now silent. But in a little while he had almost
+regained his cheerfulness. For Sturton and his men were making the pace.
+Instead of playing on the defensive, they were carrying the war into the
+enemy's country. Within five minutes, in fact, they had scored a goal,
+whereat Ranleigh applauded vociferously.
+
+"Just watch them closely, you fellows," Barlow cautioned his Parkland
+eleven, as they went back into their own ground for the kick off. "That
+was simply a rush. We got our first from them in the same way. Hold
+together and keep the ball always in their half."
+
+"Well done," commented Sturton. "Don't let 'em rest. We're fit enough to
+keep at it hard till the whistle goes. So push 'em, boys."
+
+How magnificently Moon used his fists! The shots which the Parkland team
+made at the home goal might easily have succeeded. But Moon made light
+of them. He always seemed to be in the right place and at the very right
+moment, while his ponderous blows sent the ball flying far from the
+goal. But if he had his work to do, so also had the keeper of the
+Parkland goal. Within ten minutes of the recommencement of play, Harper
+sent in a shot which struck one of the posts with a thud and scared the
+visitors. It brought a howl of delight and encouragement from the
+Ranleigh fellows.
+
+"Pitch 'em in hard," Clive found himself shouting frantically. "Bravo,
+Sturton! Well done, Norman! Hooray for Ranleigh!"
+
+But time went on swiftly. In spite of every effort, and in spite also of
+the almost obvious fact that Parkland men were hard pressed and none too
+fit, Sturton and his team had not yet equalled the score of the enemy.
+Ranleigh's score still stood at two, against three by Parkland, and time
+was terribly short.
+
+"Play up, Ranleigh!" screamed the boys. "Stick to it, Parkland!" shouted
+the visitors. Sturton looked about him coolly, though there was anxiety
+in his eyes. He called to his men curtly. "Now, Ranleigh," he said.
+"Time's almost up. Let's do something."
+
+They backed him up manfully. That brilliant little half who had nursed
+his forwards assiduously all through the game got the ball when all
+alone and dribbled it swiftly toward Parkland's goal. Ranleigh forwards
+were then well in advance, and a well-placed kick sent the leather
+neatly amongst them. Sturton passed with the rapidity of lightning to
+Harper, at the same time stepping aside to evade the frantic rush of
+one of the visitors' backs. Harper rushed the ball still closer to the
+goal, passed it to his nearest man, had it sent back within the instant
+and lost it. But that little half was there to support. He jogged the
+leather upward. A Parkland man got in a punt, sending the ball to a
+great height. There the wind caught it. Sturton, watching its flight,
+rushed in to meet its fall. A man charged him. He slid aside, and just
+in the nick of time headed the leather. A roar of cheering told him that
+he had been successful.
+
+"A drawn game. Well, that's better than last time, when it was six to
+two," said Clive. "But it's rotten luck. Our chaps are heaps the better.
+Play up, you fellows!" he yelled, almost angrily.
+
+And Ranleigh did play up. The eleven had seen Bagshaw consulting his
+watch with some anxiety and knew that there could now be but a couple of
+minutes left in which to finish the game. Parkland fellows knew it also,
+and were as keen to win as Ranleigh. Off went the ball again. Visitors
+and Ranleighan spectators of the game kept up a continuous roar, which
+might have been heard right down in the village. Scarves were waved
+aloft. Fellows tore up and down the field at the back of the spectators.
+Even masters were stirred out of their usual calm. But it seemed to no
+purpose. The ball oscillated round about the centre of the field for
+what seemed ages. Then the visiting team took it triumphantly along with
+them, and sent a long shot at Ranleigh goal which plumped straight for
+the centre.
+
+"Done!" groaned Clive, hardly daring to look.
+
+"Good old Moon!" shouted Susanne and Hugh together. "Moon's done for
+'em. He's sent the ball back to our fellows."
+
+It was an old trick of the Ranleigh goalkeeper. It may be doubted
+whether there are many goalkeepers who could put up a similar
+performance, for, as we have said, the Goliath in Ranleigh goal could
+strike with his fists harder almost than the average fellow could kick.
+In any case, he gave the ball a terrific buffet, sending it spinning
+back to the Ranleigh forwards. It was then that the fellows stood on
+their toes in their anxiety. Harper had the leather and muffed it.
+Sturton somehow managed to gain possession. It shot across to the far
+left a moment later, was rushed forward by the outside left, dribbled
+across to the inside man, and then sent flying between the Parkland
+posts. Perhaps ten seconds later, while yells of delight still filled
+the air, the whistle of the referee was heard blowing.
+
+"Look here, Franklin," said Masters, meeting him some few minutes later.
+"Blow those colours. I don't care whether I owe you ninepence or nine
+bob. Come to the tuck for a blow-out. Ranleigh's won, my boy. A chap
+can't afford to quarrel about mere pennies on such a glorious occasion."
+
+They chaired Sturton from the field. A pack of juniors endeavoured to do
+the same for Moon, but broke down under the ponderous burden. Even
+Parkland fellows cheered, for they were sportsmen.
+
+"You played us a fine game and beat us handsomely," said Barlow, taking
+Sturton's proffered hand with a smile of friendship. "I hope you chaps
+will give us a return. My word, the improvement is an eye-opener!"
+
+"And due to the new method," said the Head of Ranleigh that evening,
+when Sturton and the eleven took dinner with him. "This historic match
+is an answer to all critics. The School has much to thank our Captain
+for. The improvement in tone and fitness is wonderful."
+
+Well, the day was done, the battle was fought and won, and Ranleigh was
+weary of triumph and happiness.
+
+"Good night," whispered Susanne to Clive.
+
+"Good night," came the answer. "Er--I say, Susanne."
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"There's one thing."
+
+"Heaps," was the sleepy response.
+
+"Yes, but I'm serious. I'm going to stick to footer till I get into the
+team. Hear that?"
+
+"Mighty interesting," yawned Susanne. "Wake me up when you've got there,
+and, by the way, don't forget to speak when you are Captain."
+
+Clive grew red with vexation. For he was serious, very serious indeed.
+In his own secret mind he registered that night a resolve to grow up as
+fine a fellow as Sturton, to fight his way into the football eleven,
+and--the biggest resolve of all--to even ascend to the glories of
+Captain of Ranleigh.
+
+"I'll do it," he mumbled as he fell asleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+A GREAT DISTURBANCE
+
+
+Time waits for no one, and that statement was as true of Ranleigh boys
+as of any others. Clive Darrell, in a mere twinkling as it seemed, had
+become quite an old stager at the school. Since that momentous match
+when Sturton had led his eleven to victory, thereby stimulating Clive to
+declare the most ambitious of sentiments, two and a half years had
+slipped by, two and half years which had seen great changes at Ranleigh.
+
+"But always the Old Firm hangs on and exists," reflected Bert, as he sat
+on the table in Upper Sixth and stared into the fire. "I remember the
+term when Harvey left."
+
+"One of the best," interjected Susanne, now no longer a gawky,
+ill-dressed youth, given to smoking cigarettes on every occasion, but
+spick-and-span, as immaculate as Rawlings, very English in appearance,
+and looking quite twenty-one years of age, for the great Susanne sported
+a moustache, and could, had he wished it, as he often declared, have
+grown a beard even.
+
+"Better than any of the masters, too," he had said. "Awful bore, don't
+you know, you fellows. A chap has to shave regularly now every day. That
+means getting up half an hour earlier----"
+
+"Draw it mild," Hugh had cried. "Half an hour. That's enough for a dozen
+shaves."
+
+Whereat Susanne had crushed his friend with a withering glance and an
+air of superiority which made Hugh blush.
+
+"What do you know of shaving?" he had asked satirically, closely
+inspecting his friend's smooth chin. "Not much. You're a baby."
+
+But the subject under discussion was the change which had come to
+Ranleigh. Harvey had swayed the destinies of the school. Then Sturton
+had come upon the scene with his new ideas of exercise for all every
+day. Clive remembered the success of that innovation. Then Lawton, an
+Upper Sixth fellow, had followed, and held the post for more than a
+year. Later Franklin had ascended to the giddy height to which Clive
+ventured to aim. As to the Old Firm, as Bert had said, it still clung
+tenaciously together.
+
+"As big friends as ever," reflected Susanne. "That's something. Of
+course, there have been rows, eh?"
+
+"Some. That one between Masters and Clive was a bad un. Remember it?"
+
+Susanne did. It was back in a past age. It had taken place long ago. But
+in those days it had appeared excessively severe, and had threatened the
+break-up of the partnership. And the cause was really so very simple.
+
+"All about a cricket ball," laughed Bert. "Masters had lost one."
+
+"Yes, Masters always does lose something," agreed Susanne. "Of course,
+he discovered the exact article in Clive's locker."
+
+"Of course! And claimed it."
+
+"Refused all explanations. Almost went to the extreme of accusing Clive
+of theft. In the end said he must have put the ball there himself in
+mistake. They fought it out."
+
+That was where the seriousness of the thing came in. And yet, looking
+back upon the event, there was little doubt that the tussle which had
+resulted cleared the air wonderfully. For Clive and Masters went at one
+another with their fists, and having struggled through half a dozen
+rounds were declared to have made a drawn battle of it. Of course they
+shook hands. In fact, within ten minutes of the finish of the contest
+they were chatting in the old amicable manner and demolishing a cake
+which had arrived at the school for one of them that very morning.
+
+"And the funny thing about it all was that the cricket ball--the one
+Masters had lost--was discovered tucked away in a corner of his own
+locker, where, no doubt, he himself had placed it," laughed Susanne.
+"That's Masters all over. Flares out in an instant. Licks the dust
+afterwards when he knows he's wrong, and makes the most ample apologies.
+By the way, Bert, I wish that fellow Rawlings would take himself off. He
+spoils our happy family here. No one wants him, and precious few trust
+him. Besides, he's too old to be at the school any longer. He ought to
+have gone up to the 'Varsity long ago."
+
+It may be said with truth and fairness that Susanne was by no means
+prejudiced. He didn't like Rawlings, and never had done so. More than
+that, Rawlings was decidedly unpopular, and had been so from the day
+when the ranks of the Old Firm had been recruited. Had he been
+different, more friendly and less underhanded, he would most certainly
+have been captain of the school. As it was the Sixth voted _en masse_
+against him, a fact which Rawlings did not fail to perceive. It made him
+furious. He hated his fellow prefects, detested the masters, and was
+stupidly and outrageously jealous of them all. And the presence of this
+unpopular fellow, older than any of the others in Upper Sixth, was a
+damper to their enjoyment. He was a damper elsewhere. In East he was
+head prefect, and a martinet. He seemed to air there all the
+high-handed manners he loved so much, and which were forbidden in his
+class-room. Why he remained on at the school was a problem which none
+could solve. But there he was, barred by the Sixth, detested by the
+juniors in his dormitory, and disliked by not a few of the masters.
+
+Clive, too, had ascended to the Upper Sixth. It may be said, indeed,
+that his rise had been meteoric. Of a sudden he had taken most seriously
+to work, had developed an acuteness hitherto unsuspected, and much to
+the delight of Old B., who coached him, had rushed his way up the school
+till now he was the youngest fellow in his form. A prefect also, he was
+senior in his old dormitory, reigning where Sturton had once held sway.
+
+Masters had managed to crawl to the Lower Sixth, and was noted in the
+school more for games than for lessons. His sturdy, genial figure
+attracted the admiring eye of many a junior as he tramped the corridor,
+and when we admit that he was still as much a boy as ever, we do no harm
+to his reputation. Trendall, now an excellent fellow, was with Susanne
+and Bert in the Upper Sixth, while Hugh, now Ranleigh's chief exponent
+of gymnastics, was in the Upper Fifth.
+
+It seemed, in fact, that nothing more could be wanted by the Old Firm
+and their fellows at Ranleigh to complete their happiness, and that
+something approaching an earthquake would be needed to upset their
+equanimity. However, it is the unexpected which always happens, and one
+night Ranleigh was stirred to the very depths of its foundations.
+
+"Darrell--I say, Darrell," whispered a tremulous voice somewhere near
+the hour of midnight, while a ghost-like figure bent over him. "Darrell,
+please, are you awake?"
+
+Clive wasn't. He stirred uneasily at the touch of this junior's hand,
+for Parfit, the boy who had stolen across from his bed to wake him, was
+hardly eleven years of age. Naturally timid at the thought of disturbing
+so august a person as the head prefect of his dormitory, Parfit quaked
+as Clive rolled over on to his other side and snored. Then, as if forced
+on by desperation, the lad shook him with a heavy hand.
+
+"Darrell, please," he called. "I--I----"
+
+"Hullo!" Clive sat up, gaping and rubbing his eyes. "Bell gone! Eh? Then
+what the dickens----! Why, it's Parfit."
+
+"Please, Darrell," said the youth, "I'm awfully sorry for waking you,
+but----"
+
+"You'll need your sorrow, young un," came the none too friendly
+interruption, for Clive, like others, objected to be roused in the
+middle of the night without due reason. Not that he was hard with his
+juniors. Indeed, he was always jovial with them.
+
+"Well, what is it?" he asked, hearing the boy's teeth chattering, and at
+once speaking to him kindly. "Been scared, eh? Been dreaming something
+that's disturbed you? Well, cut along, young un, you'll be all right."
+
+But Parfit had no intention of cutting. "It's not dreaming, Darrell," he
+said eagerly. "It's fire."
+
+"Fire!"
+
+"Yes, I--I think. I'm next to the door, and I feel sure I can smell
+smoke. Please, Darrell, I hope you won't be angry, but I felt bound to
+come and wake you."
+
+Clive was out of his bed like a shot, and getting into his dressing-gown
+and slippers before Parfit could believe it.
+
+"You get back to bed, young un. I'll go and see. And don't talk of being
+sorry. If you smelled smoke, or thought you did, why, of course, the
+thing to do was to wake me. I'd have licked you if it had been a piece
+of foolery. But, right or wrong, you can expect only thanks for what
+you've done. So cut, there's a sensible fellow. I'll hop downstairs and
+see whether there's anything in it."
+
+He slipped down the length of the dormitory while Parfit was thanking
+him, and swiftly pulled the door open.
+
+"Yes, smoke," he told himself, sniffing. "And thick. I can see it coming
+up the stairway."
+
+There was a gas jet on the stairs, kept burning all night, and sure
+enough, by the light it gave, smoke could be seen filtering up the
+stairs and whirling in thin wisps over the banisters. Clive shut the
+door behind him, gathered his dressing-gown about his body, and ran
+downstairs.
+
+"I can hear crackling," he told himself, stopping for a second or more
+to listen. "That means a fire. George! This is serious!"
+
+It was more, as he discovered when he reached the foot of the stairs.
+For there the smoke was dense and suffocating. It was swirling from the
+opposite side of the wide corridor passing between the two staircases
+leading to the South Dormitories, while beneath the one giving access to
+Two and Three South the flash of flames could be seen through the dense
+haze.
+
+"A fire under the stairs. Spreading fast, by the look of it," Clive
+thought. "It'll reach the gallery above, perhaps, and then the fellows
+in South Dormitories would be cut off and would have to clear out
+through the door to West landing. What ought a fellow to do?"
+
+His inclination was to go tearing off up the stairs to his own
+dormitory, there to awaken the boys, while he rapped hard at the door
+of the room leading out of One South, occupied by Mr. Branson. And then
+he thought of the excitement which would result once the alarm was
+sounded.
+
+"Make sure that it's a bad thing first of all," he said. "I'm going to
+squint in through that door and see what's happening."
+
+His eyes were shedding streams of tears by now, for the pungent smoke
+attacked them remorselessly. Then, too, he was choking violently. To
+cross the wide corridor below and open the door beneath the far
+stairway, behind which the fire lay without a doubt, meant encountering
+denser and still more choking fumes. But Clive did not think of the
+discomfort or of the danger of the act. He thought of the welfare of
+Ranleigh, of the commotion there would be were he to give an alarm, and
+of the fact that action on the part of himself and others of the
+prefects in South Dormitories might put an end to the fire, and that
+without disturbing others. Wrapping the tail of his dressing-gown round
+his mouth, therefore, he darted to the bottom of the stairs and raced
+across the corridor, diving into a swirling cloud of choking vapour
+through which he could not see. But the reflection of the flames within
+the door he aimed for caught his eye. He felt for the handle and pushed
+the door open. Instantly flames blazed out at him, while hot smoke
+poured into his face, enveloped him completely, and went swirling up to
+the roof. There was a perfect furnace beneath those stairs. He could
+hear the woodwork all around crackling. It was clear that the
+conflagration was of a serious nature and most threatening. Instantly he
+banged the hot door to, and raced across for his own stairway. And in
+the short time it took him to ascend he had made up his mind how to act.
+
+"Wake Susanne first. Let him do the same for the other prefects. Then
+take towels, blankets, and water. If the thing can't be beaten out,
+we'll wake Mr. Branson, and turn every fellow out of the dormitories.
+Here goes for Susanne."
+
+But a violent fit of coughing doubled him up at the top of the stairs,
+and for a while he was helpless. "Please, Darrell," he heard in the
+midst of the attack, while Parfit's voice came feebly to him, "is--is it
+smoke? Is there a fire?"
+
+Clive did not deign to answer. He shook off the fit of coughing with an
+effort and raced into Two South. He knew exactly where Susanne slept,
+and soon had that worthy along with him. In fact, in less than two
+minutes every prefect in South was mustered. Taking their bath towels
+with them and bearing cans of water they dashed down the stairs, while
+Clive himself reached for the extinguisher kept on every landing.
+
+"We'll give it a trial," he said to Susanne. "If we don't make any sort
+of effect on the fire we'll sound an alarm, collect all prefects, and
+man the hoses. In fact, as only three or four of us can work below, I'll
+get Slater and Gregory to mount the nearest there is. Come on, you
+fellows."
+
+A word to the two junior prefects, Slater and Gregory, sent them off
+post-haste to the nearest stand-pipe, near which a hose was coiled,
+while Clive led the way down the stairs to the site of the fire.
+
+"Tie your towels round your faces," he gasped, for the smoke was even
+more irritating now, and was denser even. "Now, we've half a dozen cans
+of water between us. I'll open the door. Let my extinguisher play on the
+flames for a while, and then finish the business with water."
+
+But though an extinguisher may be an excellent invention, and will
+extinguish a fire swiftly, its successful action depends entirely on one
+point. The contents must be delivered on the fire direct, and to that
+end the one who grips it must approach sufficiently close to the flames.
+Here, as it happened, that was almost impossible. For when the
+staircase door was thrown open the improvised brigade was swept back by
+an appalling gush of flame and smoke. Clive ducked his head, turned his
+face away, and set the extinguisher going. But the effect was _nil_, for
+the actual fire was situated round the angle of the door. Clive forced
+his way nearer till he was within two feet of the entrance, and
+endeavoured to direct the jet round the corner. And then Susanne dragged
+him backward.
+
+[Illustration: "THE IMPROVISED BRIGADE WAS SWEPT BACK BY AN APPALLING
+GUSH OF FLAME AND SMOKE."]
+
+"You can't do it," he said peremptorily. "Your clothes are on fire
+already. Here, you chaps, help to beat them out."
+
+The effort to say as much set him coughing violently. But the words were
+heard distinctly, and Martin and Fellows, two of the helpers, at once
+attacked the flames which had taken hold of Clive's dressing-gown. A
+moment later the whole party was forced into the outer corridor by an
+even fiercer blast of flame, accompanied by pungent smoke.
+
+They gasped for breath, and then looked desperately at one another.
+
+"We must rouse the school," declared Clive.
+
+"Certain," came from Susanne.
+
+"Then let's do it. I'll take South. Susanne, will you go to North?
+Martin can take East and Fellows West. Don't shout. Wake the chaps
+quietly. I'm going to shut that door first, though, and see what
+Gregory is doing."
+
+There was no time for discussion, for it was clear that they had a
+serious fire to contend with. And though Ranleigh, like every other
+well-managed school, where thought is taken for such a happening, was
+equipped with extinguishers and hoses, while the boys were given fire
+drill at regular intervals, it looked as if this outbreak might prove
+too serious for them. Clive looked grave when he thought of what might
+happen.
+
+"Couldn't expect much help from the village," he told himself. "The
+whole place would be on fire before they could possibly get here. We've
+got to fight this thing out ourselves. Ah, there's Gregory. Got it
+fixed?" he asked, as that youth came panting through the smoke towards
+him.
+
+"Nearly," came the answer. "We shall want another length of hose. I'm
+going for the one at the end of the corridor. We'll have it ready in two
+minutes."
+
+"Then I'll get up to the fellows in South. Look here, Gregory, I'm going
+to shut that door now. When you've got the hose going, break the place
+open and play direct on the flames."
+
+He dived through the smoke, his towel pulled up to his eyes, and, led by
+the red glare of the flames, was soon near the door. But the heat was
+now overpowering. Though Clive tried twice, he could not get near that
+handle, while at the end of the second attempt his gown was again in
+flames and he had to beat hard with his hands to extinguish them.
+Meanwhile, the peace and tranquillity of Ranleigh's night was swiftly
+being disturbed. A hum was coming from the dormitories. Clive found One
+South in a condition of animation.
+
+"Turn out, you fellows," he said, as if this was the most natural thing
+to expect them to do, and as if it were the usual time for rising. "Stay
+here till I give you permission to move. I'm going into the other South
+Dormitories. I shall want Peart and Godfrey and Offord when I get back.
+You other fellows had better make a bundle of your things. There's a
+fire below. I'll kick the first fellow who makes a shindy."
+
+One by one he awoke the dormitories, commanding the boys in Two and
+Three South to gather their belongings at once and pass out through Four
+South. By the time he reached his own dormitory again every boy was
+ready, while those he had called for were standing in the gloom by the
+door.
+
+"You others skip," said Clive, still in his ordinary tones. "Peart, go
+along to the Head's house and ring till he answers. Tell him what's
+happening. Godfrey, you get off to the Matron, and knock at her door.
+Tell her not to be alarmed, but merely to make ready and warn the maids.
+Offord, your job is to rouse the butler and the beakies, and tell old
+Sant to cut the gas off at the meter. There, off you bundle."
+
+He seemed to have been giving directions for an age, whereas from the
+commencement, when Parfit had wakened him, till this moment, but very
+few minutes had elapsed. But those few minutes had made all the
+difference to the conflagration. When Clive dashed out of the dormitory,
+having wakened Mr. Branson, and descended the stairs, the opposite
+staircase was blazing, the flames sweeping right up to the roof of the
+corridor. The crackle of flames could now be distinctly heard, mingled
+with a curious sizzling. In the far background, through the doors
+leading to the quad, as a rule kept firmly fastened, he imagined he
+could make out a group. Then thick volumes of smoke hid everything. He
+felt someone step down beside him, and then heard Mr. Branson speak.
+
+"It's serious," he said. "You've called the Head?"
+
+"Everyone, sir," said Clive. "Gregory's out there, I think, with one of
+the hoses. Fancy we could do something from here. I'll see."
+
+Unceremonious at such a time, he bolted up the stairs again and so to
+the West landing. Five minutes later he and Susanne held the nozzle of a
+second hose, and from the point of vantage which the stairs gave them
+poured a torrent of water into the blazing mass on the opposite side of
+the corridor.
+
+Meanwhile, it may be imagined that Ranleigh was in a condition of
+disturbance, though thanks to the example which Clive had set in the
+first place, and which Susanne and the others had so naturally copied,
+there was no panic, nor even shouting. Perhaps five minutes after the
+first alarm, when it had become obvious that the whole school must be
+roused, every Ranleigh boy was assembled in the quadrangle, where,
+pressing as close as possible, they watched Gregory and his friends
+directing water upon the flames. They would have hampered the workers
+even had not Masters and Trendall promptly taken a grip of the
+situation.
+
+"Look here, you fellows," cried the former, "you'll all get back to this
+line here. That'll give the brigade every chance to do their work.
+Trendall, send along anyone who breaks the rule. I'll deal with 'em."
+
+There was something sinister in the speech, and hearing his voice
+Ranleigh obeyed on the instant. For Masters was accustomed to speak in
+jovial tones. With him an order came always as a request, such as, "Oh,
+I say, Parker, just cut along like a good chap and bring down my cricket
+togs," or, "You fellows here in Middle, there's a beastly noise. Go on
+with your prep., do."
+
+And his requests were obeyed with promptness as a general rule. If not,
+on rare occasions, Masters could become very insistent. But he was
+seldom threatening, and hearing the threat in his voice now small boys
+slunk back to the quad steps and, with bulging eyes, watched the fire
+over the heads of their seniors. Fellows in the Upper School shuffled
+backwards, eyeing Masters askance, while even those in Upper Fifth,
+fellows soon to be prefects and perhaps a trifle jealous of the Sixth
+and of those in authority, quelled their inclination to push to the
+front.
+
+At this moment the familiar figure of the Head arrived on the scene.
+
+"Who's directing matters?" he asked of Mr. Branson, who stood beside the
+group of boys plying their hose from the entrance to the quad.
+
+"Well, I am partly, and Darrell is mostly," came the answer. "Of course,
+I haven't had time yet to learn how the thing was discovered. But when I
+was awakened Darrell had made all arrangements. He and those with him,
+Feofé and others, have behaved splendidly. There hasn't been a sign of
+panic. Boys in South have cleared out with all their belongings."
+
+"Good. Where is he? What other directions has he given?" asked the Head.
+
+A gust of wind at that moment went swirling through the centre corridor
+past the fire, sucking long tongues of flame along with it and carrying
+them toward the chapel. But it also had the effect of sweeping the smoke
+away, enabling those in the quad to see their comrades grouped on the
+staircase opposite the one beneath which the fire raged. There they
+were, sheltering behind the blistering woodwork which formed the closed
+banisters, the heads of three of them, wrapped in towels saturated with
+water, just appearing above the rail. A nozzle between two of the heads
+gripped by a pair of hands sent a jet of water sizzling across the
+corridor into the centre of the fire. The Head thought he could
+recognise in one of those towelled faces the features of Clive Darrell.
+
+"Can I get through?" he asked, stepping toward the entrance of the
+corridor.
+
+"Too hot, sir," Mr. Branson told him. "You must go round by West. I'll
+stay here and direct matters. I think we are getting the better of the
+flames."
+
+At once the Head of Ranleigh turned and hurried away, the boys collected
+in the quad making way for him. And we must state it now with no small
+degree of pride that he set as fine an example as had any of the
+prefects.
+
+"Might easily have been a panic, with all the boys rushing here and
+there shouting and shrieking," he told himself. "Everything is
+wonderfully orderly. I must back these boys up. Coolness is what is
+wanted. But I must also learn what steps Darrell and his helpers have
+taken in other directions. That's essential. One has to consider what to
+do supposing the flames beat us."
+
+It was therefore, in spite of his hurry, with measured tread and an
+appearance of unconcern that Ranleigh's Head stalked through the
+assembled boys and reached West landing. A minute later he was amongst
+the prefects on the South staircase, watching that descending jet of
+water pouring into the flames.
+
+"Which is Darrell?" he asked coolly, and at the sound of his voice one
+of the group turned. Clive, for he it was, tore the towel from his face
+at once and smiled at the master.
+
+"Getting it down, sir," he said.
+
+"Ah! You could leave for a moment? The smoke here makes one cough."
+
+Clive handed the nozzle to his friends and went up the stairs two at a
+time. At the top the two stopped to discuss matters.
+
+"Now, tell me how the thing was discovered and what steps you have taken
+to warn people," asked the Head.
+
+"Parfit smelled smoke," said Clive hurriedly, anxious to get back to his
+task. "I came down and found the fire. Then I turned Susanne--er--Feofé,
+you know, sir."
+
+"Yes, I know as well as anyone," smiled the Head.
+
+"I turned him and all the South prefects out. We tried to stop the fire
+with an extinguisher and cans of water. But the thing had got too firm a
+hold. It was really serious. Then we decided to call up the school and
+man the hoses. Gregory and Martin did the last. I sent prefects round to
+the various dormitories. Fellows from One South were told to call you,
+the Matron and the butler and his men. Er--that's all, I think."
+
+"All? Then you haven't----?"
+
+"Oh, I forgot," said Clive hurriedly. "Of course, I told 'em to turn off
+the gas, so as to save an explosion, and I sent for the butler. One of
+the men got on to his bicycle at once and went off to call the village
+brigade. But we'll be able to do without them, sir. Can I return now,
+sir?"
+
+He was eager to get back, and the Head dismissed him with a hearty
+shake of the hand.
+
+"You've done splendidly, Darrell," he said. "There really was no need to
+call me. I shan't interfere. I shall watch, and if you get the fire
+down, it will be all of your own doing. I'm proud to have such
+prefects."
+
+Well might he be proud too. The seeds which Harvey and Sturton had sown
+two and more years ago were now bearing fruit with a vengeance. Perhaps
+at no previous period had Ranleigh been blessed with such a set of
+prefects, and here was proof of it. The orderliness of the school under
+trying circumstances was extraordinary. The coolness of those who had
+taken the fire in hand, and their measures to warn all and sundry, were
+really remarkable. No wonder the Head was filled with a glow of pride.
+No wonder Ranleigh boys went mad with delight as they saw the flames
+extinguished. And then how they cheered the fellows who had been
+conducting the fight!
+
+The early morning found the Hall filled to overflowing. Masters were
+there in full strength. Ranleigh was present without exception, some of
+the smaller boys yawning widely. Even the village fire brigade had been
+invited to partake of refreshments. And then they slowly filed off to
+their beds, a whole holiday with late breakfast having been proclaimed
+from the dais. But that holiday was one only in name for Clive and
+Susanne and a few others. They collected in the Upper Sixth when the
+school was almost empty, and Susanne shut the door and turned the key.
+
+"Now, Clive," he said, "you tell the fellows."
+
+At once eager glances were cast at our hero. Masters sat up abruptly.
+Bert stood looking almost fiercely at his old friend, while Trendall was
+obviously puzzled. Clive went to the fireplace, leaned against it, and
+slowly glanced at each of his comrades in succession.
+
+"It's a beastly thing to have to say," he began, somewhat awkwardly.
+"But I'm bound to tell you. That fire was started on purpose. Someone
+wanted to burn the school down. I'm positive."
+
+"What! Positive! Surely there's a mistake," gasped Bert.
+
+"None. Susanne will tell you. I'm going to show the proofs to everyone
+present, but only on a pledge of secrecy. You give it?"
+
+They nodded at him one by one.
+
+"You can trust us to a man," said Masters.
+
+"Then come. Ourselves and the village sergeant are the only people aware
+of the business."
+
+"And, of course, the beggar who carried out the job," said Susanne
+bitterly.
+
+Never before perhaps had a group of the school seniors looked so
+serious. Jones Quartus, happening to meet them as they issued from the
+Sixth and passed along the corridor, positively shrank away from them.
+The group of curious youngsters gathered near the site of the fire
+shuffled backwards.
+
+"Here, cut!" commanded Masters abruptly, and at the word they bolted, as
+if only too eager to escape from the presence of their seniors. Then
+Clive led the way. When he and his friends returned to the Sixth some
+five minutes later, accompanied by the police sergeant, not the smallest
+doubt existed in their minds that some miscreant had successfully
+attempted arson, and that the fire had been started for some sinister
+reason.
+
+"We've got to get to the bottom of the mystery," said Clive.
+
+"Yes," agreed Susanne. "But how? That's the difficulty."
+
+It was, in fact, an absolute necessity, for the two weeks which followed
+saw no fewer than three other outbreaks of fire on the school premises,
+all, however, happily extinguished after causing little damage. It was
+no wonder, then, that the prefects of Ranleigh set themselves seriously
+to work to discover the incendiary.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+WHO IS THE SCOUNDREL?
+
+
+It was a saint's day, and Ranleigh made holiday once Chapel was ended.
+Outside in the playing-fields the shouts and laughter of the boys could
+be heard distinctly from the Sixth Form room. Occasionally there was a
+clatter in the tiled corridors over which the feet of so many
+Ranleighans had passed in the years gone by. Otherwise there was peace
+and quietness in the school and the time was propitious for discussion.
+And in the Upper Sixth Form room voices subdued and smooth exchanged the
+views of various of the prefects. Trendall was there, watching Clive and
+Susanne with a friendly smile of approval. How different from the
+glances which he had once cast at them! Bert, cool and dreaming as of
+yore, apt to indulge on every opportunity in satire, sat upon the corner
+of the table staring thoughtfully into the fire. Masters stood propped
+in one corner, nibbling the end of a pencil and glancing first at one of
+his friends and then at another. By common consent Clive had been voted
+to the chair.
+
+"We've got to do something, and at once," he said, commencing the
+proceedings as soon as he had occupied the only chair in the room. "It
+is up to us to act."
+
+"Hear, hear!" from Masters. He stopped nibbling for a moment. "Hear,
+hear!" he repeated, and then went rather pink seeing the eyes of all on
+him.
+
+"And at once," asserted Clive again.
+
+"Without delay, certainly," agreed Bert crisply.
+
+"That is, once we've come to a decision what shall be done. No use
+acting without a plan," said the wise Susanne, an opinion which Trendall
+applauded.
+
+"Then, it being agreed that something must be done, and at once, we come
+to the crux of the situation."
+
+Clive looked at each in turn invitingly. "We want ideas," he went on.
+"We've reached a crisis here. Has any fellow any plan to put before us?"
+
+There was silence. Masters took to nibbling his pencil violently. It was
+obvious that he was very much disturbed in his mind. Susanne kicked the
+worn floor boards impatiently, while Trendall and Bert seemed to have
+all their attention centred on the fire. But no one accepted Clive's
+invitation to speak. To tell the truth, no one had so much as an idea.
+The situation with which Ranleigh was face to face was unique.
+
+"I'll recapitulate events," said Clive, for he was wont in these days to
+use some terribly long words. The slang so common to his speech in
+bygone days was now almost forgotten. Indeed, the manners and the ideas
+of the Old Firm had changed wonderfully and very much for the better.
+
+"There was a fire two weeks ago."
+
+"Hear, hear!" cried Masters, whereat everyone glared at him.
+
+"Glad?" asked Bert, with cutting sharpness. "Perhaps you'd have liked to
+see us all consumed!"
+
+It was Masters' turn to become scathing.
+
+"A fine thing to suggest," he cried. "You'll say I made the fire," he
+retorted. "Go on, Clive. Bert's out of sorts this morning. There was a
+fire. Right. Hear, hear! Let's get along with it. I've a right to say
+hear, hear! Didn't the fire give us a chance of seeing what Clive's made
+of, and the sort of chaps we have at Ranleigh?"
+
+He wore an air of triumph. The others present at this meeting applauded
+loudly.
+
+"It was fine," said Trendall, his eyes sparkling. "The Ranleighan'll
+have a fine tale to tell. Though I'm one of the prefects I'm bound to
+admit Ranleigh did well. The Head said so; so did the 'Surrey Liar.'"
+
+It was the name given to a certain county paper which had come out with
+a fine description of the fire at Ranleigh, and had eulogised the
+behaviour of the boys. However, this was not getting along with the
+discussion, and Clive therefore took the matter up again.
+
+"There was a fire; we checked it. It was put out," he said. "Of course,
+there was an investigation, as a result of which we discovered that
+paraffin had been thrown about in the big cupboard under the stairs.
+There were some unconsumed shavings there, as well as a tin which had
+once held paraffin. That tin came from the boot-room where the beakies
+work."
+
+"Proving that one of the beakies was responsible for the business,"
+cried Trendall.
+
+"Not at all. The boot-room's open always. You or I could easily enter.
+Still, it doesn't say that a beaky did not start the fire. This is
+clear, however, that fire was maliciously set going by someone, and that
+someone belongs to Ranleigh."
+
+"Either as boy or servant," said Susanne. "Of course, we rule masters
+out. Such a thing is impossible with any one of them."
+
+"And boys too," suggested Bert. "Whoever heard of a fellow wanting to
+make a blaze of his school? It's preposterous! So we come to the
+conclusion that the miscreant is a worker here. In fact, one of the
+many servants."
+
+There were enquiring glances between the debaters. In the end all turned
+to stare at their chairman. But Clive's young face was inscrutable. He
+neither supported nor opposed the statement for which Bert was
+responsible.
+
+"What's the use of trying to narrow our suspicions down to a single
+group?" he asked. "On the face of it, I admit that a servant may very
+well have been responsible for that fire. But then, it might have been
+anyone. There was a fire. That's good enough for us, and we know that it
+was purposely set going. We know also that there have been others, and
+that in every case there is clear evidence that an incendiary was at
+work. Well, there's the position. You chaps have got to tackle it."
+
+There was, in fact, no need to add to his description. Somewhere about
+Ranleigh there existed an incendiary. Who was he? Boy, master, or
+servant?
+
+"Or lunatic," suddenly asked Susanne, as if he imagined that others were
+following his train of thought. "That's it. Is the fellow who's doing
+this caddish business merely a lunatic, and so irresponsible?"
+
+"Mighty likely," agreed Masters, coming closer and looking very earnest.
+"But what if he is? Where's the difference? There's an incendiary all
+the same, and wondering whether he's boy, master, or servant, and in any
+case sane or mad, helps us not an atom. Let's stop jawing about things
+that don't help and get to real business. I'm for watching."
+
+"Watching what?" asked Bert sharply.
+
+"The school, of course. Parading the corridors."
+
+"When? At night?" asked Trendall at once.
+
+"When have the fires broken out? Always at night time. Always between
+the hours of eleven and one a.m. Then that's the time for watching."
+
+"And you suggest that the prefects do this watching?" asked Clive. "The
+scheme is one that promises finely. As you say, every fire has occurred
+in the hours you mention. If the place had been patrolled, then the
+fellow responsible would have been discovered. So you suggest that the
+prefects take it turn and turn about to watch? Isn't that it, Masters?"
+
+"Not a bit. I'll ask a question. Has any fellow here any doubt about the
+others in this room? No? I can see you haven't. You needn't stare at me
+as if I'd accused you, Bert. I merely asked a straight question. Well
+then."
+
+"Yes, well then," repeated Susanne encouragingly.
+
+"Can any fellow here say that he's absolutely sure that the culprit
+isn't to be found somewhere amongst the prefects?"
+
+They shook their heads slowly at him.
+
+"Masters is talking sense," asserted Bert, after a few seconds' silence;
+whereat the great Masters flushed a beautiful red. It wasn't often that
+Bert praised. And if he did, there was often enough a sharp sting
+underneath his compliment. "He's talking sense," repeated Bert, "for
+once in his life. I'm glad."
+
+"Ah!" gasped Masters. He would gladly have set upon Bert at that
+instant. But then, everyone knew that Bert was always quizzing. He was
+grinning even then. Why on earth couldn't he be serious sometimes and
+forget his quizzing and his satire?
+
+"A fellow can't get along when he's interrupted by an idiot," growled
+Masters. "Where was I? Oh, I remember. Well, you can't swear that this
+lunatic isn't to be found amongst the prefects. All the same, I'm open
+to stand treat to everyone here if a Ranleigh prefect proves to be the
+fellow. Ranleigh prefects ain't that sort."
+
+He puffed his chest out and flushed red as he spoke. Masters took a
+tremendous pride in his school and his fellows. "There's not one who'd
+be such a cad," he declared. "Don't you deny it, Bert."
+
+"Certainly not. I'm in agreement. I'm only smiling at my thoughts. I was
+just remembering the time when Masters wasn't a prefect. A bigger set of
+cads and bullys then didn't exist, er--according to Masters. Of course,
+I agree with what he says now. Ranleigh prefects are fine fellows. Ain't
+we amongst the numbers?"
+
+There was a general tapping of feet on the floor. The men present were
+getting impatient, and really it wasn't the time for wit. They glared at
+Bert.
+
+"Shut up!" commanded Susanne. "Let Masters get along. Well?"
+
+"Well, there you are," said that worthy. "You ain't certain of all the
+prefects. But you are of the lot here. Supposing we decide to watch.
+Here are the watchers. We keep the thing to ourselves. Not a word to the
+others."
+
+"And watch all night. A tough proposition," reflected Trendall. "There
+are five of us."
+
+"Call it six," said Bert. "There's Hugh. He's not much good; but he'll
+do."
+
+"Then six," Clive told them. "Two every night. That means one night's
+patrolling in three. A fellow could manage that easily, and we can
+always put in a sleep during the day. Then I suggest that we divide
+ourselves into three parties, each consisting of two. Those two will
+each take half the school premises, and will meet on their rounds every
+few minutes. It'll help to keep 'em awake."
+
+"Awake! As if a fellow would care to sleep and so fail in his job,"
+cried Masters indignantly.
+
+"You wait," said Bert. "A chap gets awfully drowsy about midnight,
+particularly if there's nothing doing. The suggestion Clive has made is
+good. Get along, Mr. Chairman."
+
+"Then we divide into twos and patrol, each man meeting his fellow every
+few minutes. Of course, we shall want rubber shoes and a dark lantern
+apiece."
+
+"And a revolver?" asked Trendall eagerly.
+
+"No. Nothing. If a Ranleigh chap can't use his fists if there's
+occasion, why----"
+
+"Better chuck the business now," said Susanne. "Clive's right. No weapon
+is wanted. Once we catch sight of this chap we shall know how to deal
+with him. So mum's the word. Not a whisper to the other fellows."
+
+"Tell no one, not even the Head," cried Bert. "Secrecy is of the
+greatest importance. I suppose we start to-night?"
+
+"At once," agreed Clive. "Let's put the six names on strips of paper and
+draw them from a cap. That'll give us our couples. We can toss to decide
+who's to take the first patrol."
+
+They carried out this suggestion promptly, and within a little while
+had the matter settled.
+
+"Susanne and Hugh together," said Clive, reading out the result. "Then
+Trendall and Bert. Masters and I go together also. Now for first turn.
+Up with your pennies."
+
+It happened that Bert and Trendall were to be the first to patrol, and
+it may be imagined that there was a considerable amount of suppressed
+excitement about those two worthies, as also amongst their companions in
+the adventure, as the evening approached. But the Old Firm had had an
+excellent training in smothering their feelings. To look at them that
+evening as they took prep. in their several form rooms you would have
+thought that they had no such thing as a secret. In Chapel Bert's face
+was serene as he went to the lectern to read the lesson. And how well he
+read! Sitting back in his place amidst the men of the choir, Clive could
+not help but admire. His memory carried him back to that day now it
+seemed so long ago when he himself, then small and puny, had for the
+first time entered this handsome building. He recollected how he had
+watched Harvey ascend to the lectern, with what awe he had regarded him,
+and how he had trembled at the thought that some day he might be called
+upon to carry out the same duty. And here he was, destined to read the
+second lesson of the evening, cool and calm, nevertheless, admiring, as
+admire he must, the smooth, even reading of his old friend Bert.
+
+Then they trooped out to the dormitories. There was the customary ten
+minutes' silence, and then the hum of many tongues wagging. But
+gradually the sounds died down, till there came the heavy-footed thud of
+the beaky. Out went the lights. From many a bed came the snores of
+sleepers. Clive lay with wide-open eyes listening and thinking. He
+wondered what Trendall and Bert were doing, for it must be remembered
+that the rise of the Old Firm in the school had resulted in a partial
+severance. As prefects they were divided, Clive ruling it in One South,
+his old dormitory.
+
+Ah! he heard someone stirring! A door opened. It was not in One South.
+Where was it?
+
+"Old B. coming to bed," Clive told himself. "Then it's about eleven.
+Those two will be slipping downstairs in a few minutes."
+
+Yes, it was nearly eleven. The big clock began to chime the quarters as
+the door of One South was noiselessly pushed open. Clive lifted his head
+and looked in that direction. The well-known and popular figure of Mr.
+Branson entered the dormitory. On tip-toe, for he was ever thoughtful,
+bearing a lighted candle in one hand, he gently closed the door and
+slid across to his own room opposite. And in the years that he had been
+at Ranleigh, how many boys had seen him going to bed? Not many, we trow.
+Not because of the late hour, for Old B. did not hold with them. But
+simply for the reason that boys sleep well, while Old B.'s steps were of
+the lightest, in spite of his burly figure. The door closed after him,
+the last stroke of eleven sounded. Silence fell upon Ranleigh school and
+its surroundings. And then Clive's eyelids drooped. Like the other
+fellows in the dormitory, he fell asleep and forgot for the moment all
+about the task which he and his friends had set themselves.
+
+"Well? What happened? See anyone? Hear anything?"
+
+The questions were rained upon Trendall and Bert as soon as the Old Firm
+were gathered on the following morning.
+
+"Not a soul. But Clive was right about a fellow getting drowsy," said
+Trendall at once. "If it hadn't been for the movement and the need to
+meet Bert I'd have dropped off on many an occasion. I met him five
+minutes after the hour of eleven had struck. We went off to bed at two
+o'clock precisely."
+
+"Then Bert? Well?" asked Clive of that young fellow. Bert grinned.
+Evidently he had contrived to gather some fun out of the adventure.
+
+"Jolly nearly made an awful ass of myself," he grinned.
+
+"Where's the difficulty?" asked Masters, with unaccustomed satire.
+"Ain't it pretty usual?"
+
+"Shut up!" cried Clive. "You chaps are always sparring. Now, Bert."
+
+"Masters would have landed us finely in the soup if he'd been there,"
+continued the one addressed. "You see--well, is it necessary to explain
+why he'd have done the usual? No. Well, then, I started with Trendall,
+and just ten minutes after twelve heard someone moving."
+
+"Ah! Go on," gasped his listeners.
+
+"Someone moving! Who?" asked Hugh eagerly.
+
+"I'm coming to it," said Bert coolly. "It was somewhere close to the
+spot where the fire first took place. I crept in that direction."
+
+Clive felt a queer little sensation about his spine. Bert's narratives
+were always a little uncanny. He could imagine him creeping like a snake
+towards the point where he had heard someone moving. "Do get on!" he
+cried impatiently. "You do take such a time to tell what happened."
+
+"And you're always in such a violent hurry. Well, I crept there. I was
+in the quad, of course, and as all the corridor windows are open I
+could easily look in. There was a step in the corridor. Some fellow was
+creeping along. But he wasn't silent altogether. Now and again his boots
+made quite a noise. I slid along parallel with him."
+
+The faces of the listeners grew eager. They pressed a trifle closer to
+Bert, wondering what was coming.
+
+"At the corner of the quad, where the corridor turns, the fellow came to
+a sudden stop," said Bert. "Things looked fishy. I could hear him
+rummaging in the boot lockers standing there. I wondered whether I ought
+to open my lamp and take a squint at him. You see, I wasn't at all sure
+who it might be."
+
+"Of course," agreed Susanne. "You wanted to get some idea. You didn't
+want this beggar to know that you were there till you were fairly sure
+what he was up to. You see, we're watching for an incendiary. We ain't
+out for any other purpose."
+
+"I'd have collared the chap at once," declared Masters, who was nothing
+if not impetuous.
+
+"Ah, yes, _you_ would," Bert told him, smiling pityingly on him. "That's
+just my point. Here was a splendid chance for a fellow to make an utter
+hash of the business and an ass of himself into the bargain. Masters
+would have collared the beggar. I didn't. That's the difference. You
+see, it wasn't an incendiary."
+
+"Then who was it? Tell us," demanded Clive.
+
+"Only Raleigh, stinks master," grinned Bert, whereat there was a roar of
+laughter. Masters even grinned, though he felt really angry with Bert.
+Then, suddenly remembering the episode of the burglars, he smiled
+sweetly at him. It would do for next time, he thought. When compliments
+were flying around again, and there was need for gentle repartee or a
+stinging retort, he had it ready. Asses indeed! Bert needn't talk after
+such a business.
+
+"You see," went on Bert, "he'd been out to supper with some people, I
+suppose. Ain't he rather gone on that Miss Daisy?"
+
+There were nods from the circle. It was a well-known fact that the
+science master was paying his addresses at a house in the village. Miss
+Daisy often took part in Ranleigh concerts, and was decidedly popular.
+So that, if it were any relief to Mr. Raleigh, he had the good wishes of
+all at the school.
+
+"They're engaged," Trendall told the company. "They'll be married in the
+summer."
+
+"Then good luck to 'em!" cried Bert. "Well, there he was, and all the
+fumbling was for a candle. He found it after a while, just when I
+thought he must have laid his train and splashed the petroleum about in
+preparation for a fire. In fact, I was within an ace of flashing my lamp
+on him when there was the scrape of a match. It made me feel quite
+funny, I can tell you. I thought he must be about to start the fire. And
+then, when the flame burned up I saw Raleigh's features plainly. He lit
+his candle, stamped on the match, and went up the stairs to his room
+whistling quietly. There, you've got my report. I was getting a bit sick
+of watching when the time came along to give up. Masters, just you take
+warning by what happened. It's lucky we're not going to take revolvers.
+You'd have shot poor Raleigh at once, and then Miss Daisy'd have been a
+widow before she was married."
+
+Bert was perfectly right in repeating the warning, and perhaps it was
+stupid of Masters to listen to it so unkindly. But then, had he been
+impetuous, Mr. Raleigh would have become aware of the watching, and, no
+doubt, every one of the masters as a consequence. However, no mischief
+had been done, and the secrecy so important to the success of the
+business was still maintained. That second night Susanne and Hugh took
+their posts in the corridor, prepared to watch the security of Ranleigh.
+Nor had they much to report when again the Old Firm was assembled to
+hear them.
+
+"But it's a bit of a joke, all the same," laughed Susanne. "Wonder what
+the masters would say if they knew how we were watching? One generally
+supposes them to be abed at a respectable hour. But they ain't always.
+It was Raleigh's turn last time. Hugh and I saw two of them creep in
+between twelve and one while we were watching. Who knows? Perhaps Clive
+and Masters'll have the pleasure of welcoming the return of the Head
+from a supper party."
+
+That made them grin. Bert jogged Masters' elbow. "What a lark it'd be!"
+he said. "Of course, you'd collar him. My word! The scene would be worth
+watching."
+
+Perhaps it was as well that the members of the Old Firm saw every atom
+of fun that was going, for the task they had set themselves was destined
+to prove monotonous. After all, once the novelty of patrolling a huge
+place wears off, it has few attractions. Then, too, a cosy bed pulls
+hard after a long day's exercise. A whole fortnight passed, in fact,
+without anything unusual happening.
+
+"Someone's twigged what we're doing, eh?" asked Susanne.
+
+"No," said Clive. "I'm certain. But whoever set those fires going is too
+canny to be caught easily. They say that lunatics are awfully artful.
+This chap's stopped for a while. We've just got to be patient."
+
+And so for a few more days they continued watching, shadowing many a
+late-returning master. It was almost three weeks from the date of the
+commencement of this duty that Clive heard sounds that roused his strong
+suspicions. Someone was moving in the corridor, someone who had not
+entered the school through the front door as had been the case with
+masters. A figure glided past him as silently as a ghost. This was
+something entirely different from what he had experienced in the whole
+course of his watching.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+TRACKED DOWN
+
+
+Clive stood as still as a post, watching and listening. Overhead there
+was a small crescent of the moon floating over the school and partially
+illuminating the quad. But the corridors were plunged in stygian
+darkness. Had he actually heard anything? Had someone really passed him?
+
+"Well, I'm jiggered," he observed to himself, clinging doubtfully to one
+of the cross-bars placed across the usually open windows of the corridor
+by a thoughtful directorate, and with a view to keeping small boys from
+clambering through them. For it was the custom at Ranleigh to indulge in
+an ample measure of fresh air, and those corridor windows remained free
+of glass until the depths of winter.
+
+"Feel certain someone went by," thought Clive. "Felt rather than heard
+him. But--but where's he gone? Is he just opposite me. Ah!"
+
+No wonder he was puzzled, for as we have intimated, whoever had gone
+down the corridor had made not the smallest sound. Recollect that it was
+a little past midnight, that the school was plunged in slumber, and
+that, to the best of Clive's belief, he and Masters were the only two
+about the premises. Remember that the circumstances provided an intense
+stillness, and that at such times sounds usually inaudible come to the
+ear with certainty. He had heard something, he was sure.
+
+"As if a fellow had a dressing-gown on and the gown were trailing on the
+ground," he told himself. "The merest whisper. It may have been a man's
+deep breathing. But there's not a sound now. Not a single sound."
+
+But there was something else. There came the flicker of a light away to
+his right, a mere flicker, and then the same all-pervading darkness.
+Clive slid off in that direction at once, halted when he judged he had
+reached the correct position, and strained his ears and eyes to detect
+the author of that sudden glimmer. And what a job he had to be sure to
+drown the sound of his own breathing and his own thudding heart beats!
+That was the worst of such intense stillness, and of excitement, for he
+was excited.
+
+"The chap took me by surprise," he muttered beneath his breath, as if by
+way of excuse. He struggled against the feeling of excitement, but
+failed hopelessly. His heart still thudded against his ribs, beating
+with unusual rapidity. And then, worse than all, a sudden tickling
+sensation at the back of his throat assailed him. He was going to cough.
+He was----
+
+No. He beat the feeling down, and of a sudden once more had all his
+attention engaged elsewhere. For from a spot some ten feet to his right,
+from the centre of the inky darkness of the corridor, a jet of light
+swept across to the far wall. He could see the actual point from which
+it arose. There the beam glowed brightly, perhaps an inch and a half in
+depth. It spread itself gradually through the darkness, till it obtained
+much greater dimensions and finally settled on the brick and stone inner
+wall of the corridor in a wide ellipse of light. Silently it stole along
+the brickwork till it fell upon a door.
+
+"The Head's entrance to his house. This is queer," Clive thought, while
+his excitement rose. Let us be brutally frank about this young fellow.
+He was no coward. He was noted for dash and courage at Ranleigh School.
+But, like every other fellow there, he was susceptible to outside
+influences. And here was one decidedly uncanny and out of the ordinary,
+one which affected him most strangely. Clive felt positive pain in his
+scalp. His hair bristled beneath the school cap which he had donned for
+this adventure. He felt almost scared. Raising his hand he thrust the
+fingers beneath his cap, and instantly the beam of light vanished. It
+was there one instant. It was gone the next. There was merely dense
+blackness, and silence.
+
+"Phew!" Perspiration trickled over his brows. His palms were moist and
+clammy. He began to wish that Masters would turn up, only that would be
+awkward.
+
+"Give the whole show away," he told himself. "This is beastly ghostly
+and uncanny, but I ain't going to be funked. There's something mighty
+suspicious here, and that beam comes from an electric hand light. Then
+there is someone operating it. Ghosts don't have such things. Don't need
+'em."
+
+The very thought tickled him vastly. It was queer at such a moment to be
+struck by the utter absurdity of the suggestion that a ghost should
+require a lamp, and should be so up-to-date as to have adopted an
+electric one. Still, the deathly silence gave a most undoubted ghostly
+appearance to the whole transaction, and we must excuse Clive if he was
+impressed by it.
+
+"He ain't moved. Shall I show him up with my lamp?" he asked himself.
+"No, I'll wait. Ten to one this is the beggar we're after. But he's done
+nothing yet. I'm out to catch an incendiary, and if this is he, why, I
+sit tight till he's got to the business."
+
+Ah! The beam flashed again, alighting on the tiled floor of the
+corridor, and stealing along it to the foot of the Head's door. It
+slowly climbed it till it reached the keyhole, concentrated itself upon
+that orifice, and then gradually grew smaller and more brilliant, while
+the point from which it originated approached the door ever so slowly,
+the beam shortening in proportion. Click! There was the faintest of
+sounds in the distance. The beam disappeared, strangled by the hand
+which operated the lamp.
+
+"Masters making his round and coming along to meet me. He'll alarm this
+beggar," thought Clive. "Better get off and warn him. I'll get him to
+watch the far end of the corridor."
+
+He went off like a ghost himself across the quad, entered the corridor
+by the open doorway below the entrance to East Dormitory, and halted
+outside the Bursar's office. Yes, there was the gentle slither of an
+almost noiseless footfall. Clive whistled gently.
+
+"That you, Masters?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.
+
+"Yes. What's up? You've seen something?"
+
+"Just now. The fellow's got an electric lamp, and he's along there in
+the corridor. I'm not sure that he's our man, and I came back here to
+warn you not to make a sound. Look here, watch along there by the steps
+leading to the washing rooms. I've just thought this beggar may be an
+outsider who breaks in, or makes his way into the school by the back
+doors. You'd catch him at the turn of the corridor, and in any case
+you'd be within hearing and I could call you. That right?"
+
+"I'm off. Yell if you want me," answered Masters. "Look out in case the
+fellow's armed. George! I never thought of that possibility of a man
+getting into the school from outside and doing this firing business.
+Hope it'll turn out so. Ranleigh don't want such scum about the school."
+
+He went off without another word, while Clive slid into the quad again
+and stole along by the corridor windows. In a little while, having used
+the greatest caution, he had reached the spot he had stood in before,
+and straightway leaned against one of the barred windows and stared in.
+There was not a sound. No beam of light helped him to discover the
+whereabouts of the ghostly stranger parading the corridor.
+
+"Gone! Slipped off on hearing that sound," Clive told himself. "Bad luck
+to it! He's beaten us again."
+
+He fingered his own electric lamp, with which Masters was also provided.
+
+"Shall I, or shall I not?" he wondered, his finger on the sliding
+trigger. "Supposing he's over there, still waiting and listening?
+Supposing he's slid off and is at work elsewhere?"
+
+It was a dilemma. There are very many placed in the same position of
+responsibility and under the self-same circumstances who would have
+hesitated, and rightly so, who would have determined to do nothing that
+savoured of rashness, and who would have decided to curb their
+impatience, risking everything lest by premature action they should
+wreck the whole enterprise. Still Clive swung badly between the two
+decisions. He brought his electric lamp out of his pocket, presented it
+across the corridor, and then tucked it back in his pocket again, just
+as he had done a few moments before. It gave him a start, a minute
+later, when he again had his lamp in position, though the trigger was
+not yet moved, suddenly to perceive a ray of light opposite.
+
+"Why, he's opened the Head's door," he told himself. "That light's
+shining from the inside. The beggar's managed to get into the house.
+What's his business?"
+
+It was something dishonest and underhand, in any case, else why such
+silence? why this flitting in the depths of night, when the school and
+its residents were sunk in slumber?
+
+"Frightfully fishy," Clive told himself. "Either a burglar or the
+incendiary we're after. I'm going across to that door to take a look in.
+No, I'm not."
+
+He bobbed down like lightning, his head below the window frame through
+which he had been staring. For the light within the half-open door
+increased. It swung across to the opposite side of the corridor, and
+then, through the surrounding darkness, Clive saw the bull's-eye orifice
+through which the beam was projected. Nothing more was visible. The hand
+which operated the lamp, the man behind might not have been in
+existence. He was invisible. It looked, indeed, as if the torch were
+supporting itself, and swaying from side to side by its own efforts. And
+then, of a sudden, the beam died out.
+
+"Beggar felt it necessary to come out of the house into the corridor so
+as to make sure no one was about," Clive whispered to himself. "Now, is
+he still outside the door, listening and waiting, or has he gone in
+again? I'm not going to wait much longer. This cad means business, and
+if he's up to the old game, why, the sooner I nab him the better.
+Supposing he's already made a fire!"
+
+That caused his heart to increase its exertions again, for his
+excitement had abated a little after his first discovery. But as he
+thought of this serious possibility, his pulses stirred with a
+vengeance. Why, the whole fate of the school might be in his hands!
+Delay and hesitation at this moment might see old Ranleigh, the place
+which he and hundreds like him loved, some young, some growing to
+manhood, some already arrived at that stage in life's progression, and
+getting rather on the seamy side, might see it burned to ashes. The
+thought sent a chill through his sweating frame. Clive moved quickly in
+the direction of the open door at the west end of the quad and crept
+into the corridor. Was that a flash of light he saw from beneath the
+door?
+
+"Jolly like it. Believe he's gone in again. I'm going to chance
+matters."
+
+He touched the trigger of his lamp and sent a flood of light on the
+half-open door. The corridor was empty. There was no figure beside the
+door. Clive darted over to it, and stood at its edge, peeping round into
+the passage leading to the Head's own study. It was a dismal place at
+any time, badly lighted in the most brilliant day, and now sunk in the
+depths of impenetrable darkness. It was a heart-breaking sort of
+passage, with uncompromising and unsatisfactory walls, which gave not
+the smallest encouragement to a malefactor. And here it was that
+malefactors gathered. Not the class of malefactor that Clive was now
+after, but wretched Ranleighans, haled before the Head, sent there often
+enough with the politest of notes by one or other of the masters--notes,
+too, which the wretched victims had themselves to bear. They were almost
+like death warrants. Clive had experienced the dreadful feeling of
+bearing one. He had waited in that depressing passage while another
+sinner preceded him. He had listened to the drone of voices behind the
+Head's door. And then had come the sound of tribulation. Staring into
+this dark pit brought his early days at Ranleigh back to his mind. What
+a thrashing he had had on that occasion when he and Masters had broken
+bounds and contrived to stampede two of Squire Studholme's finest
+horses!
+
+Then his thoughts were just as suddenly switched from old recollections
+to present events. He was on the point of flashing his own lamp into the
+passage when the darkness was illuminated from the direction of the
+Head's door. That, too, was half open. The miscreant was inside. Now was
+the time to lay hands on him.
+
+"Catch him nicely in a trap. That'll do," thought Clive. "He's coming
+out, though. What's he up to?"
+
+The reflection from the walls of the passage threw into relief the
+figure of a man, gowned in something loose.
+
+"Overcoat," said Clive. "Hat crammed on his head and rubbers on his
+feet. He's--he's pouring something along the sides of the passage.
+Paraffin. I can smell it! Jingo! Then this is the beggar! I've got him
+right in the middle of the act. This is what we've been waiting and
+watching for."
+
+Yes, there could be no doubt now, for the penetrating odour of the oil
+was already filling his nostrils. But how silently the rascal worked!
+But for the faint whisper the tail of his coat made now and again as he
+stepped along the side of the passage there was not another sound. Clive
+watched the fluid pouring from the spout of the fellow's kettle as if he
+were fascinated. It spread slowly and greasily, as paraffin does
+invariably, across the woodwork and matting of the floor. It ran freely
+from the receptacle in which this rascal had brought it, and then slowly
+became less in quantity, till it merely dribbled from the spout. And all
+the while an elliptical, bright ray of light fell on the particular spot
+upon which the fluid was falling, the mere outline of the bending figure
+of the man being visible to the watcher. Suddenly the light went out.
+There was a faint scraping noise, as if the kettle had hit against the
+wall. Then the light flashed for a second again, and once more
+disappeared.
+
+"Gone back into the Head's room. Now I have him," said Clive, whetting
+his lips. "It'll be a business, but I ain't going to be funked. This is
+a matter concerning the whole school, and I don't shirk it. All the
+same, I wish Masters were closer."
+
+He rounded the door, flashed his own lamp for one instant so as to give
+him a view of the passage, and then went noiselessly onward. Outside the
+study door he waited and listened. Yes, someone was moving inside. He
+heard the faint rustle of papers. The fellow no doubt was piling them
+upon the pool of paraffin he had poured on to the floor. Or perhaps he
+was scattering the fluid broadcast. It was the moment to nab him. Clive
+stepped into the doorway and----
+
+A blinding flash of light blazed right into his eyes. The bull's-eye of
+this ruffian's lamp was within ten inches of his face and suddenly
+opened upon him. There came a startled cry, a sudden movement, and the
+clatter of a kettle falling to the floor. Then Clive was dashed backward
+into the passage with terrific violence, and stumbling on the mat
+outside the study door, fell heavily on his back, his own electric torch
+clattering away into a corner. He felt the sweep of the fellow's gown or
+overcoat across his face and gripped swiftly for his legs. His hand
+closed on something, trousers perhaps, though the material seemed
+extraordinarily thin. Then he was kicked savagely, though the softness
+of his assailant's soles caused but little damage. But it threw his grip
+off, and in a moment the fellow was fleeing.
+
+"Beaten me after all," thought Clive as he sprang to his feet and
+groped for his torch. "Ah, here's the thing. Now, which way did he
+bolt?"
+
+He was out of the passage like a flash of lightning, and turned into the
+corridor. At once his finger went to the trigger of his torch and sent a
+beam ahead of him. Yes, there was a flying figure in advance, going at
+full speed down the corridor, and without making even the smallest
+sound. Clive gave chase instantly, first with the help of the light
+given him by his torch, and then in total darkness, for his finger had
+slipped from the trigger. But he had it on again in a moment. There the
+fellow was, plainly visible, his clothing blowing out behind him.
+
+"I'm gaining on him," thought Clive. "We're bound to have him nicely,
+for he's going straight for the corner. He'll be round in a jiffy, and I
+shall be after him. Masters will see my lamp from the post he's taken
+and will be in splendid position to stop him. Bother the torch. My
+finger's slipped again."
+
+A second earlier the flying figure had arrived within three feet of the
+end of the corridor, where it turned abruptly to the left. Clive reached
+the spot perhaps ten seconds later. He flashed his light round the
+corner and along the other corridor. There was nothing visible. Not a
+soul was in sight. Even Masters was not present, and was doubtless
+waiting round the corner at the far end. But where had this fugitive
+gone? Into the archway leading to the Bursar's room and to East
+Dormitory, or through the opening to the quad? Clive flashed his torch
+through the latter. No. There was no one in the quad. Then elsewhere? He
+sent the beam against the banisters of East Dormitory. No. There was no
+one. This fugitive seemed to have been actually swallowed by the
+surrounding walls. Clive was sorely puzzled and perplexed. He retraced
+his steps to the corner of the corridor, and peeped into a boot-room
+there. That, too, was empty. The man had been too clever for him. He had
+gone.
+
+"Dived into that boot-room, without a doubt. Waited for me to pass and
+then went off back along the same route towards the Head's door. I'll go
+along there after him. Wonder whether he fired that paraffin? Must find
+that out. Why, even now a fire may be blazing. My word! To think that a
+chap could go in for such a caddish business."
+
+But who was the man? Did Clive know? Had he recognised that fleeting
+figure?
+
+There was a deep furrow across our hero's face. Even as he raced back
+along the corridor he was conscious of a feeling of unusual distress, of
+sadness almost, of despair at the thought of what must inevitably follow
+his discovery. For the miscreant was without question a Ranleigh boy.
+Clive had not seen his face--had seen little else, in fact, but legs
+rapidly moving and a flowing gown, above which was a head hidden beneath
+a hat pressed closely down upon it. But even figures have their own
+special features. Every individual almost has his own particular
+movements, something, however small, which differentiates them from
+others. And Clive knew the special run of this fugitive well. In a court
+of law, perhaps, his evidence was useless. Here, at Ranleigh, perhaps it
+was little better. Were he asked at that moment to say who the miscreant
+was he could merely shake his head.
+
+"Couldn't actually dare to declare the fellow's name," he told himself
+as he raced up the corridor. "I feel sure. But others would doubt.
+They'd doubt naturally, and considering the circumstances, the
+excitement, the intermittent light, why, I may easily be mistaken. I
+daren't wreck a fellow's future on such flimsy evidence. Perhaps I'll
+nobble him yet. At any rate, I'll try my best. My word, what a slippery
+beggar!"
+
+He was back at the Head's door now, to find it wide open, where no doubt
+he had flung it as he raced after this mysterious incendiary. The
+passage within was empty. He searched every corner with his torch. The
+corridor outside the Hall was equally vacant, and there was no one on
+the stairs leading to West and certain of the masters' rooms, nor on
+those giving access to North Dormitory.
+
+"Then the beggar's back in the Head's room," he thought. "I'll go right
+in this time, close the door so that he can't try the same sort of
+business, and then nail him. George! The place smells of paraffin. He
+meant to have a proper flare while he was about it. Now, is he in the
+Head's study or not?"
+
+No, he wasn't. At least, the place seemed empty. But a combination of
+misfortunes was pursuing Clive on this adventurous evening. To commence
+with, he had been taken by surprise by the crafty fellow he was
+watching, and had been tripped up nicely. And now, perhaps because the
+fall had injured it, his torch failed all of a sudden. Clive groped for
+a match-box, upset some ornament on the mantelpiece, felt his fingers
+light upon something remarkably like a match-box, and gripped the
+latter. Then he rapidly withdrew one of the matches and struck it
+against the box. A candlestick was within easy reach, and in a second he
+had the wick burning. It was giving off a good light, and he was holding
+it above his head so as the better to see his surroundings, when the
+door was pushed swiftly open, a figure bounced into the room, and in a
+twinkling our hero found himself gripped by the collar.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+A MONSTROUS ACCUSATION
+
+
+It was a terrible moment for Clive. In the midst of his own vexation and
+chagrin at the failure he had made, and at the knowledge that he had
+just missed laying hands on the criminal who had been setting fire to
+the school, to be pounced upon of a sudden, gripped with suffocating
+firmness and shaken like a dog, was disconcerting, to say the least of
+it. It was positively maddening.
+
+"Let go, you fool! Clear off, and let me go on with the business," he
+cried in tones of anger. "Do you hear? Let go."
+
+Clive was no saint. He had as many faults as the average fellow, and
+perhaps more than some. But they were honest faults, faults seen in the
+light of open day. Not the low, mean ones affected by some fellows
+behind the scenes, to their own shame and the abhorrence of all
+right-thinking people. Clive had never been one of those fellows who
+sadly upset the discipline and more of a school. He was a rock to lean
+on where questions of principle and honour were concerned. The Head
+knew it. Old B. knew it better still perhaps. The masters and the school
+thought quite well of our hero. But he had a temper, and showed it now.
+He struggled and fought like a madman. But still those iron fingers
+gripped his neck.
+
+"At last!" he heard in the deep, cross tones of Mr. Axim. "At last the
+wretch who has troubled us so long is run to earth. Stir an inch, sir,
+and I'll deal sternly with you. There'll be no trifling, I can assure
+you. Though you are a Ranleigh prefect, and not yet a man, you can
+expect the roughest handling."
+
+That was Mr. Axim all over. He was, perhaps, the most unpopular of all
+the masters. In fact, we may state that Ranleigh had seldom been so
+unlucky. Mr. Axim seemed indeed to have been born with a natural
+antipathy for boys, and it was ill luck that he should have come to
+Ranleigh, or, for the matter of that, to any school. To him boys were
+unnatural animals. He was ever suspicious of them. Their overflowing fun
+and humour he could not understand, while boyish forgetfulness and want
+of care were, in his eyes, unpardonable offences. Was it fate, too,
+which had made him Clive's one particular _bête noire_, almost a
+persecutor? For friendship between them had never existed. The merry,
+light-hearted Clive, so serious when it came to mechanics, so studious
+when he was interested, was with this Mr. Axim a sulky dunce, unable to
+grip even simple rudiments. But then driving never agreed with our hero.
+A little sympathy, a little human friendship, and he was your best
+supporter, ready to "swat," as the boys termed it, ready to work his
+fingers almost to the bone so that he might give satisfaction. With Mr.
+Axim he had, in his earlier days at Ranleigh, been for ever in trouble,
+and since then the two had avoided one another as far as possible, each
+unmistakably disliking the other.
+
+"At last, and the Head's pet prefect!" said Mr. Axim, laughing
+satirically, and with an air of triumph in his voice. "Let us see what
+he has to say to this capture. Pet prefect indeed! Pet hypocrite, I
+think. And to think that I warned him of you! To think that the one who
+did so nobly in putting out our first fire should have set it going. Ha!
+ha! I suspected the game. You should have thought of me, Darrell, when
+you went into this scoundrelly business."
+
+Clive was too astounded to make any reply, and if he had wished, the
+grip compressing his neck behind made speaking almost impossible. His
+wits were whirling. He felt inclined to shout, or to break out into
+hysterical laughter. It was bad enough to have missed the man he was
+after, when he and his friends had taken so much trouble. And now, to be
+accused of the deed himself, to be told that he had been caught
+red-handed, was half maddening, half ludicrous. Had it been anyone else
+but Mr. Axim, Clive would have explained. But this master's obvious
+triumph, his satire and biting sarcasm kept our hero's lips silent.
+
+"So," said Mr. Axim, as if gathering his ideas and thinking the matter
+out, "so, returning from a pleasant evening in the village we accidently
+discover Darrell as the much-wanted incendiary. Good! We now proceed to
+disillusionise the Head. We will ring this bell and awake him."
+
+He tugged at the cord promptly, and somewhere far away in the depths of
+the house Clive heard an answering clang, repeated some five or six
+times. Mr. Axim went to the door and closed it, standing afterwards with
+his back to it.
+
+"I'll not soil my fingers any longer," he said. "You can stand over
+there in the opposite corner. No. Leave the candle. A desperate young
+ruffian such as you are might easily complete the job I managed
+fortunately to disturb. Now, a clean breast of the whole business will
+be the only course for you to follow."
+
+Clive scowled at him, and then closely inspected his surroundings. As
+he had suspected, there was a pile of papers in one corner, from which
+came the strong odour of paraffin. Everything, in fact, was ready for
+the conflagration. It merely wanted the match, and that at least he had
+been instrumental in preventing. Suddenly there was a tap at the door.
+The Head of Ranleigh entered. Slowly his eyes passed from the figure of
+Mr. Axim to that of Clive. He sniffed heavily, turning his head in all
+directions. Then, as if he had more than half gripped the situation, his
+pale and impassive face became suddenly paler in the candle light, while
+he wore an unusually stern expression. Crossing to the wide table on
+which his papers were neatly arranged and ticketed, he drew his writing
+chair nearer and sat down, resting his forehead on his hands. And thus
+he remained for a few moments, as if anxious to put his thoughts from
+him. It was with a fierce "Well?" that he finally addressed Mr. Axim.
+
+"This is the end of the trouble," said the latter. "You have had fires
+at the school. The matter has been a mystery. There is the culprit.
+Clive Darrell."
+
+"And you?" asked the Head severely, turning upon our hero. "You admit
+this fact? You agree that Mr. Axim discovered you in the act of setting
+fire to these premises? Answer at once. Are you responsible for the
+whole of this wicked business?"
+
+"Decidedly not. There has been a mistake, sir," said Clive, hardly
+knowing where to commence his story.
+
+"A mistake! Of course," laughed Mr. Axim hoarsely. "There always is an
+error in these affairs, no matter whether the culprit be discovered
+candle in hand, in the midst of heaped-up papers saturated with
+paraffin!"
+
+"You were found like that, Darrell?" asked the Head, sadly enough.
+
+Clive nodded. He glared across at Mr. Axim defiantly. "I admit the
+fact," he said curtly. "But I am not the culprit. Mr. Axim has been too
+clever, for he has merely come upon the scene after I had discovered
+what was happening. I followed someone here. I wasn't sure what was
+happening, though I had my suspicions. I came down the passage and was
+about to enter the room when this fellow suddenly put his electric torch
+on me. There was darkness a second later. He knocked me over, and sent
+my torch flying. I chased him down the corridor and then lost sight of
+him. Thinking that he might have returned here, I came back again. That
+was the moment when Mr. Axim proved so clever."
+
+The latter gasped. Clive's effrontery made him positively giddy.
+
+"A pack of lies," he cried. "If there had been a struggle you would have
+heard it. Of course he lost sight of this fellow in the corridor, simply
+because he never existed."
+
+"Silence, please," commanded the Head, lifting a shaking finger. "Clive
+Darrell, you state that you discovered an incendiary at work. You had a
+torch. You chased this man. You no doubt saw him. Then give the name.
+Was it one of my Ranleighans?"
+
+"Yes," came the prompt answer. "I feel sure it was one, though I'm sorry
+to have to admit it. But who, that's another question."
+
+Mr. Axim sniggered. Clive could willingly have kicked him. The Head's
+pale face took on a sterner appearance.
+
+"You saw and followed, and admit that this miscreant was a Ranleighan,"
+he said icily. "Then you can also give the name of the individual."
+
+"No. I refuse. In my own mind my suspicions are so strong that I feel
+certain. But I never saw his face. I'll condemn no one on such evidence.
+I regret I am unable to give you the name of the fellow."
+
+Mr. Axim laughed again, causing the Head to frown. Clive crossed his
+arms over his chest and confronted his questioners. And then the master
+who had come upon him stepped up to his side, took the candle and slowly
+inspected him.
+
+"Rubber shoes, for silence of course," he reported. "Got a sweater on,
+for warmth, ditto a dressing-gown. Smells strongly of paraffin, and has
+a box of matches in his pocket."
+
+His elevated eyebrows were more than expressive. He looked at his senior
+as much as to say, "The evidence is conclusive. This boy is a liar."
+
+But Ranleigh's Head was not the one to condemn without a searching
+investigation. He had thrown himself back in his chair, and was staring
+now at the candle. He was terribly grieved, if the truth be known, most
+terribly disappointed. For Clive was an especial favourite. He could
+have sworn that the young fellow was honest and upright. Besides, this
+was the act of a fanatic. Clive wasn't that. He was a decidedly
+level-headed fellow.
+
+"You refuse that name?" he asked after a while.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"You have no other explanation to offer?"
+
+"Most certainly!"
+
+"Ah!" smiled Mr. Axim, and then, _sotto voce_, "More lies, I suppose.
+Hear him!"
+
+"Then let me hear it."
+
+"These fires have naturally upset Ranleigh fellows. We felt it a duty to
+discover the culprit. We decided to watch the premises during the night.
+Masters and I were on duty at eleven to-night. You will find him down
+in the far corridor."
+
+Mr. Axim's face fell. The Head's took on a happier expression.
+
+"Fetch him here, please," he said, turning to the master. "We will wait
+for your return. Be quick, please."
+
+He aimlessly turned over the papers on his table while Mr. Axim was
+absent. But very soon the latter was back, bringing a very startled
+young fellow with him.
+
+"You were watching with Darrell, then?" asked the Head.
+
+"Certainly. We decided to see into this jolly business and catch the
+cad--er--the fellow that was doing it. Er--Clive and I were for duty
+to-night."
+
+"Together?"
+
+"No, sir. Separate. We were to meet every few minutes."
+
+"You met then?"
+
+"Often. At last Clive crept along and told me there was someone about.
+He asked me to watch at the far end of the corridor."
+
+The Head nodded. Mr. Axim gave vent to a malicious chuckle.
+
+"Well out of the way there, I think?" he asked. "Did you see anything of
+this chase which we are told followed?"
+
+"What chase?" asked Masters, looking across at his friend. "I don't
+understand. I've been waiting there ever since in case Clive's man
+bolted. What's happened?"
+
+There was an impressive silence for one whole minute.
+
+"Only I'm accused of preparing a fire here," said Clive. "Mr. Axim
+caught me."
+
+"Red-handed," cried the latter. "Matches in pocket and candle in hand.
+Now he has the impudence to declare that he himself disturbed a fellow
+here. He chased him down the corridor, when the culprit disappeared. But
+you neither saw nor heard them! That's significant. More than that,
+Darrell saw this wretch, recognised him, he believes, but will give us
+no name. Queer, a little, don't you think, Masters? But let us go a
+little deeper into the question. That first fire commenced close to One
+South. Darrell was the one to discover and quench it. It was marvellous
+how he had managed to think out all the details of the business."
+
+"Wait! Parfit woke him first. He gave the warning," cried Masters, his
+face flushed with anger and distress at the accusation aimed at his
+friend. "When you begin to dig deep, Mr. Axim, we'll have all the
+details, please. Just remember what I've mentioned."
+
+"I do," came the cutting and sharp answer. "Parfit announced smoke. The
+smell had awakened him. Agreed. But there's no fire without smoke.
+Darrell had ample time to do his work and get back to the dormitory. My
+argument begins to tell, I think."
+
+He looked searchingly at the Head, while Masters stared at Clive as if
+he were stricken speechless.
+
+"We go further now," said Mr. Axim, a note of exultation in his voice.
+"The post of School Captain falls vacant next term. Darrell is a
+candidate."
+
+"Yes," nodded Masters.
+
+"That fire and his management of the boys made him first favourite. It
+gave his popularity a tremendous fillip. But who was chiefly
+instrumental in discovering and controlling the fires which followed?
+Clive Darrell!" cried Mr. Axim, pointing a condemning finger at our
+hero. "Who would have had all the kudos here to-night, once this fire
+had started? The wretch stands there. Clive Darrell, being conveniently
+on watch, and having thoughtfully got rid of his companion, prepares for
+a flare, makes ready to set it going, with the one idea of waiting for
+the flames to become sufficiently serious. Then he makes the discovery.
+Wakes the school, oh so gently, and descends to-morrow morning even a
+greater hero than he was before. In fact, he becomes certain King of
+Ranleigh. There, sir, you have the case clearly. There is clear motive
+for such conduct. Clive Darrell is the one you are after."
+
+Very carefully had the Head followed this argument. He didn't like Mr.
+Axim overmuch, but he knew him to be a shrewd fellow. For the life of
+him he could see no fault in this argument. It was a terrible
+indictment. Everything seemed to argue against the truth of Clive's
+story. Everything? No. Let him declare the name of this fellow he had
+chased. Then let them confront him. That would clear his name
+absolutely.
+
+"Clive Darrell," said the Head sternly, though kindly, "you have
+followed Mr. Axim? The evidence looks black against you. As to the
+motive, I find it harder to believe that you would play to the gallery
+for any post than I do to conceive of any reason for your firing these
+buildings. One thing alone can clear you. Give me the name of this
+person you followed. Let us bring him face to face with you."
+
+There was dead silence. Mr. Axim actually smiled. Masters looked
+terribly distressed, while the Head seemed thoroughly miserable.
+
+"You refuse?" he asked.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then go to your dormitory. You will be expelled in the morning."
+
+It was a disastrous ending to the ambitions of our hero.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+THE OLD FIRM HANGS TOGETHER
+
+
+There were white faces amongst the members of the Old Firm on the
+morning following Clive's arrest by Mr. Axim, and the sentence which the
+Head had passed on him. The school itself was agog with the news.
+
+"Darrell's bunked! Heard it? What's he done?" was passing on every side.
+
+The prefects discussed the matter for the most part sorrowfully and a
+little shamefacedly. It was a terrible blow to them to find that amongst
+their number there was such a criminal.
+
+"It's more than a bunking business," said Roper. "It's a case for the
+criminal courts. Darrell'll get years of imprisonment. Arson is a most
+serious offence. I wouldn't have thought it of him."
+
+"I don't believe it. There's some mistake, I'm positive," declared
+Jenkins, one of Clive's particular friends. "Hear what the Old Firm have
+to say."
+
+But that the Sixth were not likely to have an opportunity of hearing,
+for Bert and Hugh and the others were collected together at that moment
+in the Gym, whither they had departed so as to have peace, and so as to
+be able to discuss matters in private. Hugh, as if habit were too strong
+for him, sat across the horse. Bert, his face unusually stern, leaned
+against the same apparatus. Susanne stood close at hand, his broad
+shoulders stooping to a marked degree on this fatal morning. As for
+Trendall, there was grief written unmistakably on his decidedly pleasant
+features. Then Masters joined them. They were awaiting his coming, and
+gave vent to sighs of relief as he came through the Gym doorway and
+walked toward them. But it was a weary, despondent Masters. There was
+not the usual elasticity about his step. This fellow, apt to see fun in
+almost anything, and very seldom down-hearted, might have been at this
+instant preparing to attend his own funeral.
+
+Susanne beckoned him forward.
+
+"Now, tell us all," he said. "Everything, so that we may judge."
+
+"Then I'll start at eleven last night, when we met in the corridor and
+commenced our patrolling."
+
+Very rapidly he narrated the events of the night, unimportant in his own
+case till the latter part. Still, he missed nothing, giving them the
+closest details. Each one of the Firm stretched a trifle closer when he
+came to that portion of the narrative when Mr. Axim called him, and he
+discovered Clive face to face with the Head. He even told them what
+words had passed, how Mr. Axim had summed up the matter, how Clive had
+refused to give the name of the boy he more than strongly suspected.
+
+"There's the whole case," he said at last. "I grant you it's black.
+Things somehow seemed to have worked round to incriminate Clive. It's an
+awful business. I hate that fellow Axim. He's a howling bounder."
+
+They agreed with him at once.
+
+"And we all trust Clive," said Susanne impressively. "He's the victim of
+circumstances."
+
+"Anyone could sum up the case blackly against him," cried Bert. "Listen
+to this. Because a fire breaks out in the neighbourhood of South
+Dormitory Clive must be the culprit. That's Axim's argument. Why not
+Susanne, then? Because Clive is a candidate for Captain of the School.
+But so am I. So's Susanne, so's Masters and plenty of others. But listen
+again to Axim's reasoning. Clive must be the culprit not only because
+he's a candidate for Captain, but because he engineered the brigade
+which stopped the fire, and because he managed to think of all sorts of
+issues, sent to have the gas cut off, sent for the fire brigade, etc.
+Pshaw!"
+
+He stamped his foot. Looked at quietly one could see the fallacy of
+such reasoning. Why because Clive had done his best should he
+necessarily have had an eye to his chances of being elected as Captain
+of Ranleigh?
+
+"The suggestion's preposterous. I wonder the Head hasn't seen it!" said
+Trendall. "Because a chap does well, is he therefore necessarily to have
+an ulterior motive? The argument's rotten. If persisted in it would soon
+kill initiative in an institution. A chap would be afraid of being
+accused of all sorts of things. Of course, what clinches a bad argument
+is Clive's admission that he saw this chap, believes he knows the fellow
+in spite of not seeing his face, and yet won't give the name. He
+refused."
+
+"Bluntly," said Susanne, almost with a sob. "We interviewed him early
+this morning, Masters and Bert and I. Refused curtly. We asked him why."
+
+"And what's the answer?" demanded Hugh. "Mind you, Clive's a queer
+beggar. He loathes Axim. Axim tried to drive him, and that's quite
+enough to make Clive shut up. Then he's got queer ideas of honour and
+all that. What did he say?"
+
+"Refused to discuss the matter. Simply said he wasn't sufficiently sure
+of his man to launch such an accusation against him. Then shut up and
+got quite angry."
+
+"School's summoned in Hall for eleven," said Bert. "I propose we go
+again and see Clive. He must give way; we'll compel him."
+
+The idea was one which appealed strongly to them, and since if all went
+numbers might defeat their object, Hugh and Susanne were selected for
+the interview, and at once went off to the Bursar's office where Clive
+was incarcerated pending his departure from Ranleigh for the railway
+station. Ten minutes later they were back, their faces almost haggard.
+
+"He's gone--hooked it!" cried Susanne, looking round at his friends with
+anxious eyes.
+
+"Gone! Bolted?" asked Bert, bewildered. "Why?"
+
+"Wouldn't stand to be bullied any longer. Wouldn't have the Head and
+others constantly coming to demand the name of the fellow he'd seen.
+Said that since they openly disbelieved his story they'd better sack
+him--in fact, that he'd sack himself. He left a note to tell 'em what he
+was doing."
+
+Clive had indeed launched a thunderbolt at all at Ranleigh. The anxious
+and harassed Head found his troubles vastly added to by this unforeseen
+event. For days past his had been an unenviable existence, and had the
+Old Firm but known it, he had taken steps to have the outside of the
+school closely patrolled every night, while various of the servants had
+been watched. In fact, the Head had scorned the idea that this
+incendiary was one of his own community. Advised by the village sergeant
+of police, he had come to the conclusion that it must be some madman
+living in the neighbourhood, or someone outside with a grudge against
+the school, someone probably with an intimate knowledge of the
+buildings. Strong suspicion, in fact, fell upon one of the men employed
+about the place a few weeks before, and summarily dismissed for
+misconduct.
+
+And now he knew it to be a Ranleigh boy. One had been taken actually
+red-handed. But that boy was Clive Darrell. Even now, with the evidence
+so strong against him, the Head could not believe it. And yet, after
+full discussion, he could see no room for error. It seemed certain that
+not only had Clive done this thing and thrown dust in the eyes of the
+police and the school officials, but he had also hoodwinked his own
+special companions. That system of patrolling was but a ruse to disarm
+suspicion. It was strange, more than strange, that Clive should always
+be at hand on these occasions when fire broke out, while, if he were the
+guilty person, as Mr. Axim proved so easily and conclusively, then the
+motive was plain if despicable.
+
+It may be imagined, too, that this train of argument cut the ground from
+beneath the feet of Susanne and his friends. What could the Old Firm
+bring to controvert such evidence? Merely the stubborn refusal to
+believe Clive guilty. Merely to scoff at the idea that he had made fools
+of them.
+
+And now he was gone. If his tale were true, one event and one only could
+clear his name and bring him back to Ranleigh. That boy whom Clive
+refused to name could come forward and declare the true facts of the
+case, and so clear his comrade.
+
+"Axim don't believe there is another fellow in it," said Bert bitterly,
+when the news of Clive's going was brought to them. "The Head would like
+to, but the evidence is too strong for him. But I'm still positive that
+Clive's straight and honest. He'd never dirty his fingers with such a
+business."
+
+"And I'm going to find him and this other beggar," declared Hugh.
+
+"Bravo! We'll all help," came from Susanne. "Now, look here, you
+fellows, I've a proposition. We don't want to worry the Head or break
+regulations, do we?"
+
+"Certainly not," from Trendall.
+
+"Regulations, no. I'd break that fellow Axim's head," growled Masters.
+
+"At the same time, we believe our biggest and best friend to have been
+wrongfully accused of this crime of arson."
+
+"Yes," said Bert emphatically. "He is a victim of circumstances."
+
+"And since his future and his fair name concerns us more than school
+regulations, I'm going to break 'em. I'm going off at once to find
+Clive. Hugh'll come with me, also Masters and Trendall, if they like."
+
+Each one mentioned eagerly accepted. "It's the least we can do," said
+Masters. "How'll you set about it?"
+
+"One moment," cried Susanne, lifting a hand.
+
+"What about me, then?" asked Bert.
+
+"You will have just as important work. You will read our manifesto.
+We'll draw it up now, put the full facts in it, and declare our
+intention of searching for Clive. At eleven, when the school meets, and
+the Head comes in to announce Clive's expulsion, you'll stand out and
+demand that this decision be delayed for a while, till we've
+investigated the matter. He won't refuse. He's far too decent a fellow.
+Meanwhile, we shall move off. I'll hire that new car they've got at the
+'Green Man' down in the village, that is, as soon as we've made sure he
+hasn't taken the train. Then we'll run round in all directions asking
+for information. It's nine now. Let's get the manifesto written and
+signed, and then slip off. Bert will see what can be done here to pick
+up some crumbs of evidence."
+
+Without discussion, without further thought indeed, the Old Firm adopted
+this proposition. They may not have been right. It would have been
+better, perhaps, had they started on their own ground by seeking further
+evidence in the school, instead of delegating that task to Bert. But
+then, the Old Firm was notorious for its impetuosity and also for
+warm-heartedness. They were true friends ever, and here they meant to
+prove it. If Clive were innocent, then he should be found and brought
+back to the school. If he were guilty, why, not one of the Old Firm
+would believe it till he himself had admitted it.
+
+And so that manifesto was drawn up by Bert, when all signed it. Then he
+watched them depart from the school, and went off himself to sift the
+matter to the bottom. It may be imagined what a sensation his presence
+caused some two hours later, when, the Head having come before the
+assembled school and mounted the dais to make his painful announcement,
+Bert walked from amongst his fellows and coolly--for he had braced
+himself for this trying ordeal--stepped up beside him.
+
+"Boys of Ranleigh," began the Head, not having noticed Bert, "I have a
+most painful announcement to make. You are aware that fires have
+occurred in the school of late, fires caused by an incendiary. The
+culprit has now been found. I regret to say that it is Clive Darrell."
+
+There was dead silence in the Hall. The Head stood with his shoulders
+thrown back, his eyes firmly closed as was his wont, looking positively
+miserable. It was, in fact, a miserable business. Here was a promising
+boy's future ruined. The only little solace, and it was likely enough
+only a temporary one, was the fact that Clive had bolted. There was a
+warrant out already for his arrest, and to see him in the police court,
+to witness his trial and condemnation would be the very last straw.
+Ranleigh's unhappy Head would have given thousands could he have undone
+the whole matter, thousands to save Clive Darrell, for he liked the
+young fellow, and thousands also to save the honour of the School. He
+opened his eyes then, heard a step beside him, and saw Bert for the
+first time. Mr. Axim had seen him a minute earlier, for all the masters
+were present, as was the custom on such occasions, and had officiously
+attempted to arrest him. But Bert shook his hand off peremptorily, and
+now advanced to the Head's side.
+
+"I have to ask pardon, sir," he began. "Clive Darrell is an old friend
+of mine, and I come here to support him in his absence. I have here a
+paper recapitulating the evidence against him, which I and Clive's best
+friends have drawn up. We feel sure that you are too fair not to allow
+us to put it before the School. May I read it?"
+
+There was surprise on the Head's face. Mr. Axim was openly scoffing. But
+a partisan of Clive's down at the end of the school boldly set up a
+cheer. Feeling was indeed running high. Ranleigh still could not believe
+Clive Darrell guilty, and now by their cheers they openly demanded to
+hear the evidence in full. It was, indeed, a novel situation. The Head
+grappled with it magnificently. He stood aside, and then held up his
+hand.
+
+"We pride ourselves on fair play at Ranleigh," he said. "Let Seymour
+Primus and his friends prove Clive Darrell innocent, and I shall be the
+first to thank them. Read the paper."
+
+Bert did, slowly and impressively. Perhaps Susanne could not have chosen
+a better man to put those facts before Ranleigh. The boys seemed to grip
+the situation instantly. There were cheers as he reached the end of his
+manifesto, and then dead silence. Bert had still something to say.
+
+"Sir," he said, turning to the Head, "there is a Ranleighan here who is
+the really guilty party. Who set fire to the school? I beg that you ask
+him to come forward, and I ask also that you defer Clive Darrell's
+expulsion till we have had time to sift certain evidence. We have a
+clue. Fair play, sir, is all that we ask of you."
+
+You could have heard the smallest pin drop on the tiled paving of the
+Hall. Even the smaller boys failed on this momentous occasion to shuffle
+their feet, an irritating habit they often acquire, while the seniors of
+Ranleigh School moved not a muscle. There were none of those sharp,
+barking coughs so noticeable in class-rooms, or in Chapel, which
+distract the attention of the reader and make his voice almost
+inaudible. There was a deep and impressive silence. As for the faces of
+those collected in Hall, they wore a hundred different expressions. The
+Head's fine, impassive features were heavily lined. He seemed to have
+actually aged. Mr. Branson, that genial giant so deservedly popular,
+showed utter misery on his somewhat heavy face. For Old B. had a tender
+spot in his heart for Clive Darrell, just as he had for many another
+boy. He had seen him arrive at the school, a mere mischievous chicken.
+He had watched him grow up, had coached him in his work and in cricket,
+where Clive did not shine as Bert did. Often had a smile or a word from
+Old B. encouraged our hero. And here was the end of it all--disgrace,
+dismissal; perhaps imprisonment.
+
+"A better fellow never came to Ranleigh," he was muttering. "I don't
+believe this tale. There's a fault somewhere. Clive's a stickler for
+honour. Why should he give the name of a boy whom he believes he saw,
+but whose back was always towards him? Then, too, the only light he
+possessed was an electric torch, and that went out when his finger
+slipped off the trigger. I grant that many would have given the name.
+It's just the sort of occasion when Clive would refuse, partly because
+it's a point of honour with him to protect the name of all Ranleighans,
+mostly because there is just a doubt in his mind as to whether he can
+have been mistaken, and he will not therefore fling an accusation of
+such a serious nature at anyone on such evidence."
+
+Old B. went scarlet in the face. His eyes flashed. He lifted a hand in
+protest, and stepped forward. "I----" he began, but the Head waved him
+back peremptorily.
+
+"Wait," he asked a second later. Then his eyes closed. He threw himself
+into his characteristic attitude, while a deep frown furrowed his brow.
+From his position on the dais Bert slowly watched the expressions on the
+faces of those assembled, watched and waited. There was positive fear
+and alarm in the case of many of the youngsters. Middle School fellows
+were obviously stirred, though the presence of so many masters, and of
+the Head in particular, quelled any outburst. But the seniors were not
+so vastly impressed. There was resolution on some of the faces,
+indignation on others, and nowhere could he detect a sign of triumph at
+Clive's downfall. Nowhere. Jenkins stood with clenched fists, biting his
+lips and deep in thought. Roper appeared to be on the point of bursting
+into speech. His cheeks were puffed out and reddened, while his breast
+was absolutely swelling at the thought of the injustice which he
+considered had been done. Even Rawlings, the oldest boy present, looked
+sorry. There was none of the old truculence, the open scorn of his
+rival, for Clive had now become in every way his rival. More than once
+in the last year had Rawlings aspired to take the post of Captain of
+Ranleigh, but, as we have said, his unpopularity was too pronounced. And
+now that an election was imminent, it was certain that Clive, were he at
+the school, would have gained the coveted honour. That was Rawlings'
+fault. He should long ago have cultivated the friendship of his fellows.
+Now he had lost it for good, and without doubt should have left the
+school long ago. Why he remained on was never quite understood, though
+it was rumoured that some family trouble had caused him to stay. Be that
+as it might, he was still a Ranleighan, still unpopular, while of late,
+perhaps because his own bosom friends had left, he had become silent and
+taciturn, given to long fits of brooding, and sometimes to outbursts of
+passion.
+
+No, there was merely sorrow on Rawlings' features, sorrow and a
+curiously dazed expression. And elsewhere only on the face of one was
+there any expression hostile to our hero. Mr. Axim scowled. He felt that
+he himself now stood as prisoner in the dock. For he it was who had
+caught Clive, he it was who had scoffed at his declaration of innocence,
+had summed up the evidence, had produced a motive for the acts, and had
+thus impressed the Head. And here was open rejection of his decision, of
+his arguments and of Clive's sentence. The position was, in fact, unique
+in Ranleigh's annals, unique perhaps in the annals of almost every
+school in existence.
+
+"Monstrous!" he was muttering. "The evidence is clear. These people will
+be accusing me of the crime next. As if I were swayed by animus! As if
+it were not absolutely clear that Darrell is the guilty party.
+
+"I--I protest," he cried, and then was silenced just as had been the
+case with Mr. Branson. The Head actually scowled at his assistant
+master.
+
+"Allow me, if you please," he said, with acrid emphasis. And then he
+faced the School. Slowly he allowed his gaze to pass down the lines of
+boys assembled at their tables. He seemed to look closely into every
+face, seemed almost to ask the question on every occasion. Then he threw
+his head back and closed his eyes. But they were open a second later
+when he addressed the School in tones more solemn than any had ever
+known him to employ before.
+
+"Ranleighans," he said, "I beg of you to listen to what I have to say.
+One of your old comrades has been declared to be guilty of the most
+dastardly conduct. I need not say more on that point, for the
+particulars are thoroughly known. Last night the evidence against him
+seemed to my mind to be conclusive. There was no fault that I could
+discover, and though Darrell himself denied the acts he still declined
+to give the name of one he suggested was the author of those fires. Now
+Seymour Primus demands a respite. I give it freely, willingly. If there
+be a doubt in this case, if delay may produce some evidence to clear
+Clive Darrell, then, in Heaven's name, let us delay. But let us also
+search our own consciences. That one whom Clive Darrell suggests is
+guilty, whose name he refused to give, is a Ranleigh boy. I beg of that
+boy to come boldly forward for his conscience' sake, for the sake of
+Clive Darrell."
+
+The silence was positively trying. Bert felt almost as if he would
+explode if something did not soon happen to lessen the tension. Boys
+stood at their places absolutely pale and over-strung, unmanned almost
+by this ordeal. But none spoke. Not a boy came forward to proclaim his
+guilt and Clive's innocence. There was not so much as a sound for one
+full minute. And then there came a startling crash from the far end of
+the Hall. The clatter of feet was heard, the double doors were burst
+open, and there entered a small procession.
+
+Susanne led the way, with Masters close behind him. Then came Hugh arm
+in arm with Trendall. The village sergeant of police followed closely,
+looking wonderfully important and just a little nonplussed at finding
+himself for a few brief moments the observed of all observers. But
+interest passed almost at once from him and those who led the
+procession. A solitary figure marching behind became the target for all
+observers.
+
+"Clive Darrell!" shouted Bert. "Hooray for Clive Darrell!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+KING OF RANLEIGH
+
+
+Such a scene had never before been witnessed at Ranleigh. Boys
+positively became frantic. They cheered and cheered as if they would
+keep on for ever. As for Bert Seymour, he waved his arms overhead and
+danced in his excitement, surely an unusual state of affairs with one so
+noted for sedateness.
+
+And through the noise and the lanes of Ranleighans processed Susanne and
+his followers. There was a curious air of suppressed excitement and
+determination about them all. They turned neither to left nor to right,
+and acknowledged none of the frantic greetings thrown at them. Clive
+himself marched to the dais hands in pockets, not even deigning to
+glance at Mr. Axim. The latter's face was indeed a study.
+
+"What's this?" he had asked himself at the commencement of the commotion
+which had ushered in this strange procession. "Feofé? Ah! One of
+Darrell's special chums, and, of course, the others close in tow.
+Members of the Old Firm. Can't help admiring the way they stick to a
+friend, but it's wasted labour."
+
+The distraction was, in any case, at the very commencement welcome to
+him. We must be absolutely fair in our dealings with this master, and
+declare that indignation at the doubt cast on his own shrewdness and at
+Bert's open criticism of his method of summing up the evidence against
+Clive Darrell was beginning to give way to something approaching doubt
+of himself. Had he been absolutely impartial? Had he flown to
+conclusions, and taken too little heed of Clive's persistent denials and
+dogged refusal to discuss matters with him?
+
+"Ought to have taken the fellow's nature into account," Mr. Axim was
+telling himself, for he wasn't at heart an unkindly master, nor even
+unfair. He was hasty, no doubt, and apt to allow prejudice to control
+his thoughts and actions. But when all was said and done, Mr. Axim was a
+Ranleighan, and at Ranleigh they go in for a fine stamp of master. And
+to the credit of this particular one, let it be stated that he was
+already discounting the wisdom of his late efforts.
+
+"Supposing I'm wrong, and Clive's innocent? Supposing I've been hasty?"
+he asked himself. "Pshaw! We never got on well together. Didn't
+understand one another, I suppose. But that shouldn't make me unfair in
+my dealings with him. I--I----"
+
+"You've acted like a hasty fool!" Old B. told him bluntly, for Mr. Axim
+in his agitation was speaking in a loud whisper. "You've been hard on
+the boy. He's innocent. I'll--hang it, man! I'll back him yet to be King
+of Ranleigh."
+
+"But--but----"
+
+"There isn't one. Did ever you see a guilty boy return to face his
+school after committing a crime of this nature? Never! Does that police
+sergeant look as if he had a possible prisoner behind him? Humbug, Axim!
+Susanne's face is sufficient to inform you that he has a tale of his own
+to tell us."
+
+And Susanne had. The tall, broad-shouldered Frenchman looked positively
+brimming over with happiness, though there was an air of seriousness
+about him which showed that he also had some trouble. The same might be
+said of Trendall. But Masters was ever notorious for the openness of his
+feelings and opinions. He was absolutely truculent at this instant when
+the procession had arrived at the dais. He transfixed Mr. Axim with a
+glance which made that unfortunate and ill-advised gentleman wish that
+he had never had any dealings with this matter. Then all eyes were
+turned on the Head.
+
+"With your permission, sir," said Susanne, halting at the edge of the
+dais and addressing the master with becoming respect, "with your
+permission we will mount the dais. We have information to give you. But
+first it would be as well to tell us what has been passing here in our
+absence."
+
+The Head waved him up with a quick gesture. The lines were still drawn
+deep across his forehead, but there was, nevertheless, something
+approaching a look of relief. "You've arrived in the nick of time," he
+said. "Let me explain what has happened. I have made an announcement as
+to Clive Darrell. Seymour Primus, applauded by the School without
+exception, has traversed the evidence against him and has demanded delay
+in this unfortunate matter. To that I have agreed. Then, but a few
+seconds before your arrival, I begged that if any boy were present here
+who knew himself guilty he should for his conscience' sake and for Clive
+Darrell's honour at once come forward. Not a boy has stirred. That is
+the position."
+
+Susanne mounted the dais slowly and deliberately. Those who knew him
+would have sworn that he was reluctant to speak, and yet he had
+information to give which would clear Clive's character entirely. He
+glanced down those expectant lines thoughtfully.
+
+"Er--you fellows," he said, "I've--that is, we went in search of Clive.
+We were dead certain he was innocent."
+
+Someone started a cheer just to encourage Susanne, for he was but a poor
+speaker.
+
+"He was supposed to have bolted from the school with the idea of hiding
+himself. He hadn't. He went direct to the police station."
+
+There was silence. Boys looked at one another. Some of the seniors
+wagged their heads.
+
+"Bravo, Clive!" cried Mr. Branson, unable longer to contain himself, and
+then subsided, for the Head had fixed an indignant gaze on him. The
+police sergeant at once stepped forward. "Fact, gentlemen," he said. "At
+eight fifty-two he turns up. Of course I had heard of the night's
+happening. 'Arrest me, sergeant,' he says. 'I've been expelled for
+setting fire to Ranleigh.' Gentlemen, I didn't believe him."
+
+Ranleigh howled its appreciation of the magnanimous conduct of this
+officer, Mr. Axim positively squirmed, while the Head looked more than
+uncomfortable. However, the sergeant had not yet finished.
+
+"I arrested Mr. Darrell," he said. "On talking the matter over with him
+I suggested investigation. Mr. Darrell stoutly denied the crime for
+which he had handed himself over to my keeping."
+
+"Ah! Investigation," gasped Mr. Axim. "How? On what lines? Surely we
+looked into everything?"
+
+The sergeant withered him with a look of scorn. He produced from beneath
+his cloak a paper parcel and slowly unwrapped the paper.
+
+"That was worth looking into," he said. "It's the first clue that would
+occur to a baby. That's a kettle, sir, an ordinary kettle. See it?"
+
+He held it up so that all could see, while he glanced sideways at the
+unhappy master. Nor was the worthy sergeant disrespectful. There was
+merely mild indignation in his manner. But then he happened to have a
+lad of his own of Clive's age, and could thoroughly sympathise with that
+young fellow. His experience also of the law told him that Mr. Axim's
+deductions had been hasty and entirely misleading, for he had rushed to
+conclusions without searching for obvious clues and following those
+thoroughly. At arm's length overhead he now held a common kettle.
+
+"That's a kettle, sir," he said again, "and that's paraffin."
+
+Slowly he tipped it till a clear fluid trickled from the spout, and
+falling on the wooden boards of the dais began to spread into a dark,
+oily patch.
+
+"And paraffin's what this incendiary was pouring along the passage,"
+continued the sergeant. "That kettle was in the Headmaster's study. Were
+you in the habit, sir, of keeping an article like this in that part?"
+
+It must be frankly admitted that the Head looked thoroughly startled.
+
+"A kettle! Certainly not! Such articles are kept in the proper
+department. But I follow your reasoning, sergeant, we ought to have
+investigated this matter."
+
+"And so you would, sir, if you hadn't been led off the path in the wrong
+direction. The detection of crime ain't only a matter of reasoning. It's
+a question of facts often enough, and this here kettle's a fact. Now, it
+don't belong to your people. I've asked the maids and the boy. They
+don't own to it. Then I searched elsewhere. It was about that time that
+I ran against Mr. Feofé and his friends. They'd been down to the station
+making enquiries."
+
+The Head looked intensely surprised. Such an act was a direct breach of
+school rules and discipline. It amounted almost to a breaking out of the
+school, and was a crime he would, as a rule, punish severely. But, as a
+matter of fact, he had not even missed these boys from the collection of
+Ranleighans. He had no suspicion that they were not present, and the
+fact can be understood considering the nature of the business which had
+brought him to meet the assembled school. Nor was this the moment in
+which to discuss their breach of Ranleigh rules. He motioned to the
+sergeant to continue.
+
+"They'd learned he was along at my cottage, fixed up in the station, and
+insisted I should fetch him so as to follow the clue I've put before
+you. Well, gentlemen, there wasn't a doubt as to the owner. We know him.
+He knows that we know him. He's here present. He's the guilty party."
+
+No one stirred. If the Head expected that now one of the boys would
+stand forward he was much mistaken. Not one attempted to move. More than
+that, though he searched the lines of faces, there was not a boy present
+who looked conscious or guilty. Was the sergeant mistaken? Was it he who
+had gone astray from the path, and got upon a wrong line of reasoning
+and evidence? Mr. Axim started. He wanted to prove Clive innocent just
+as much as anyone else. He was honest enough not to care even if his own
+deduction proved childish. But, if clues were to be followed, they must
+be followed with intelligence.
+
+"One moment, sergeant," he said. "This kettle."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"You know the owner?"
+
+"Without a shadow of doubt, sir."
+
+"But do you know that it was the owner who made use of it last evening?
+Can you prove that fact? Can you show that Clive Darrell did not himself
+borrow it for this unfortunate business?"
+
+Every eye turned upon the officer. He cleared his throat with a husky
+cough and returned the frank and anxious stare of Ranleigh with one of
+confidence.
+
+"I can," he answered, with decision. "The dressing-gown belonging to the
+owner of that kettle has the tails of the skirt wet with paraffin."
+
+"But--but----" began Mr. Axim.
+
+"But you can say the same for the dressing-gown belonging to Mr.
+Darrell. It's saturated. You see, he was bowled over in the passage
+where the stuff had been laid; at least, sir, that's his story."
+
+"Yes, his. He told me that at once."
+
+"But you didn't believe him. I did," said the sergeant sharply, whereat
+there was a stir amongst the boys. They were on the point of bursting
+out. That sergeant had become wonderfully popular.
+
+"One of the best!" Masters was observing to himself, while he scowled at
+Mr. Axim. Not that he meant much by that. Masters had changed his old
+ideas by now. The teaching staff at Ranleigh weren't such bad fellows,
+and decidedly not tyrants. But then the days of Masters' impots were
+long since finished. "One of the best!" he repeated, looking at the
+sergeant. "I've got a whole quid in my pocket. The Governor actually
+stumped up to that extent. Blessed if I don't tip the sergeant a
+sovereign."
+
+"So we've got no further at the moment. Now, sir," went on the officer,
+addressing the Headmaster, "I'd been making enquiries round the village,
+and as a result I've learned that there was someone up here buying
+paraffin. You see, after that first fire, school stores were safely
+locked away, so that anyone who wanted the stuff had to look elsewhere
+for it. That paraffin was carried away by a gent who's the same as the
+one owning the kettle."
+
+There was a deep hum in the Hall. And then a hush which was almost
+awe-inspiring.
+
+"But that wasn't quite all I wanted. I looked for more. I looked where
+anyone else might have looked who'd followed the clue of that kettle. I
+searched the locker and boxes of that individual. I found there a diary,
+in which each fire is recorded, while the words make it clear that the
+writer was the man we're after. Now, sir, is there anyone here who
+doubts longer that Mr. Darrell can be innocent?"
+
+Not one. Their faces showed it. But not a boy spoke, nor even a master.
+The moment was far too serious for that, for a tragedy lay still before
+them. Clive was cleared, even to the satisfaction of Mr. Axim. But there
+was still a guilty party. He was one of the Ranleigh boys, he was there,
+actually amongst them, and added to the enormity of his crime was the
+fact that he had failed to come forward. All eyes were on the sergeant.
+He was looking thoughtfully down the Hall, and seemed to glance at no
+one in particular. Then the boys turned their attention to the
+Headmaster, to Susanne, even to Masters and Trendall. Someone stirred.
+It was Clive. He stepped swiftly across to the sergeant, and then to the
+side of the Headmaster, whispering to both of them. The School was
+electrified a moment later when it received a sharp order.
+
+"That will do," said the Headmaster. "Boys will at once go to their
+class-rooms. This matter is happily ended, and we rejoice that Clive
+Darrell is still amongst us, an honoured member of Ranleigh."
+
+There was amazement on all faces. Obedient to the order the School at
+once filed out of the Hall, while questions shot from one boy to
+another. Susanne went off arm in arm with Masters. Trendall followed our
+hero, while the latter actually stepped up to Rawlings and took his
+arm.
+
+"Come on, old chap," he said kindly. "Let's be going. The Head has
+dismissed the School."
+
+The fellow was dazed. Anyone who had taken the trouble to watch him
+almost from the commencement of this business would have noticed that
+Rawlings stood as one in a dream. He seemed unable to follow the
+discussion taking place on the dais. His eyes were staring, his mouth
+half open, while his gaze was fixed on Clive Darrell, and now he was
+babbling and grinning in extraordinary fashion. They led him gently from
+the Hall to the sick-room, where the doctor was soon in attendance, and
+that afternoon the School had another sensation. Rawlings had lost his
+senses. He had become insane, and was no longer responsible for his
+actions. More than that, it was he who had set fire so often to the
+school premises, and with the cunning of one who is insane had managed
+so long to elude his comrades. And now his curious behaviour of late
+came to be understood. Fellows wondered why they had not noticed his
+strange ways, his taciturnity and silence. They were, in fact, the early
+symptoms of the misfortune which had attacked him. Clive, however, was
+destined to learn more of this extraordinary matter. It appeared,
+indeed, that for some while Rawlings had been troubled with home
+matters. Somehow he had discovered that his father was none too honest,
+and, in fact, had committed a forgery. That act had enabled him to
+become possessed of the estate which had once been Clive Darrell's
+father's. And the antipathy which Rawlings had from the first taken to
+our hero had persuaded him to put aside this most important discovery.
+But he was not all bad. The fear of a downfall, of loss of dignity, and
+of poverty had encouraged him to make the utmost of the benefits which
+his father's fraud had provided at the expense of Clive's people. And
+then his better nature and his conscience swayed him in an opposite
+direction. What was he to do? Expose his own father? Bring ruin on him
+and disgrace, with a long sentence of imprisonment? The responsibility
+of such a position can be well imagined. The youth was harassed. The
+matter preyed on his mind, and this breakdown was the result.
+
+"It was rough on Rawlings," said Clive, when he talked the matter over
+with his old friends. "I'm sorry for him, awfully. And it's really lucky
+that the father died. Of course, we've come back to our own again. I'm
+glad for my mother's sake. But I'm sorry for Rawlings."
+
+"And about that fire. You knew it was he?" asked Bert.
+
+"Yes. I felt certain."
+
+"And you wouldn't speak. Why?"
+
+"Because I caught only a glimpse, and because I hated to be the one to
+ruin him."
+
+That was the sort of spirit at Ranleigh. Perhaps not always employed
+wisely and in a right manner. But it did the School honour. At any rate,
+the boys were sufficiently satisfied with the honour and wisdom of Clive
+Darrell that they straightway elected him as King of Ranleigh.
+
+
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+    WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD.
+    PLYMOUTH
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 42862 ***