diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/gldbt10.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/gldbt10.txt | 6092 |
1 files changed, 6092 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/gldbt10.txt b/old/gldbt10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b6416cc --- /dev/null +++ b/old/gldbt10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6092 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Gold Bat, by P. G. Wodehouse +#15 in our series by P. G. Wodehouse + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Gold Bat + +Author: P. G. Wodehouse + +Release Date: November, 2004 [EBook #6879] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on February 6, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GOLD BAT *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + + +THE GOLD BAT + + + + + +by P. G. Wodehouse + +1904 + + + + + +[Dedication] +To +THAT PRINCE OF SLACKERS, +HERBERT WESTBROOK + + + +CONTENTS + + +Chapter + +I THE FIFTEENTH PLACE + +II THE GOLD BAT + +III THE MAYOR'S STATUE + +IV THE LEAGUE'S WARNING + +V MILL RECEIVES VISITORS + +VI TREVOR REMAINS FIRM + +VII "WITH THE COMPLIMENTS OF THE LEAGUE" + +VIII O'HARA ON THE TRACK + +IX MAINLY ABOUT FERRETS + +X BEING A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS + +XI THE HOUSE-MATCHES + +XII NEWS OF THE GOLD BAT + +XIII VICTIM NUMBER THREE + +XIV THE WHITE FIGURE + +XV A SPRAIN AND A VACANT PLACE + +XVI THE RIPTON MATCH + +XVII THE WATCHERS IN THE VAULT + +XVIII O'HARA EXCELS HIMSELF + +XIX THE MAYOR'S VISIT + +XX THE FINDING OF THE BAT + +XXI THE LEAGUE REVEALED + +XXII A DRESS REHEARSAL + +XXIII WHAT RENFORD SAW + +XXIV CONCLUSION + + + + +I + +THE FIFTEENTH PLACE + + +"Outside!" + +"Don't be an idiot, man. I bagged it first." + +"My dear chap, I've been waiting here a month." + +"When you fellows have _quite_ finished rotting about in front of +that bath don't let _me_ detain you." + +"Anybody seen that sponge?" + +"Well, look here"--this in a tone of compromise--"let's toss for it." + +"All right. Odd man out." + +All of which, being interpreted, meant that the first match of the +Easter term had just come to an end, and that those of the team who, +being day boys, changed over at the pavilion, instead of performing the +operation at leisure and in comfort, as did the members of houses, were +discussing the vital question--who was to have first bath? + +The Field Sports Committee at Wrykyn--that is, at the school which +stood some half-mile outside that town and took its name from it--were +not lavish in their expenditure as regarded the changing accommodation +in the pavilion. Letters appeared in every second number of the +_Wrykinian_, some short, others long, some from members of the +school, others from Old Boys, all protesting against the condition of +the first, second, and third fifteen dressing-rooms. "Indignant" would +inquire acidly, in half a page of small type, if the editor happened to +be aware that there was no hair-brush in the second room, and only half +a comb. "Disgusted O. W." would remark that when he came down with the +Wandering Zephyrs to play against the third fifteen, the water supply +had suddenly and mysteriously failed, and the W.Z.'s had been obliged +to go home as they were, in a state of primeval grime, and he thought +that this was "a very bad thing in a school of over six hundred boys", +though what the number of boys had to do with the fact that there was +no water he omitted to explain. The editor would express his regret in +brackets, and things would go on as before. + +There was only one bath in the first fifteen room, and there were on +the present occasion six claimants to it. And each claimant was of the +fixed opinion that, whatever happened subsequently, he was going to +have it first. Finally, on the suggestion of Otway, who had reduced +tossing to a fine art, a mystic game of Tommy Dodd was played. Otway +having triumphantly obtained first innings, the conversation reverted +to the subject of the match. + +The Easter term always opened with a scratch game against a mixed team +of masters and old boys, and the school usually won without any great +exertion. On this occasion the match had been rather more even than the +average, and the team had only just pulled the thing off by a couple of +tries to a goal. Otway expressed an opinion that the school had played +badly. + +"Why on earth don't you forwards let the ball out occasionally?" he +asked. Otway was one of the first fifteen halves. + +"They were so jolly heavy in the scrum," said Maurice, one of the +forwards. "And when we did let it out, the outsides nearly always +mucked it." + +"Well, it wasn't the halves' fault. We always got it out to the +centres." + +"It wasn't the centres," put in Robinson. "They played awfully well. +Trevor was ripping." + +"Trevor always is," said Otway; "I should think he's about the best +captain we've had here for a long time. He's certainly one of the best +centres." + +"Best there's been since Rivers-Jones," said Clephane. + +Rivers-Jones was one of those players who mark an epoch. He had been in +the team fifteen years ago, and had left Wrykyn to captain Cambridge +and play three years in succession for Wales. The school regarded the +standard set by him as one that did not admit of comparison. However +good a Wrykyn centre three-quarter might be, the most he could hope to +be considered was "the best _since_ Rivers-Jones". "Since" +Rivers-Jones, however, covered fifteen years, and to be looked on as +the best centre the school could boast of during that time, meant +something. For Wrykyn knew how to play football. + +Since it had been decided thus that the faults in the school attack did +not lie with the halves, forwards, or centres, it was more or less +evident that they must be attributable to the wings. And the search for +the weak spot was even further narrowed down by the general verdict +that Clowes, on the left wing, had played well. With a beautiful +unanimity the six occupants of the first fifteen room came to the +conclusion that the man who had let the team down that day had been the +man on the right--Rand-Brown, to wit, of Seymour's. + +"I'll bet he doesn't stay in the first long," said Clephane, who was +now in the bath, _vice_ Otway, retired. "I suppose they had to try +him, as he was the senior wing three-quarter of the second, but he's no +earthly good." + +"He only got into the second because he's big," was Robinson's opinion. +"A man who's big and strong can always get his second colours." + +"Even if he's a funk, like Rand-Brown," said Clephane. "Did any of you +chaps notice the way he let Paget through that time he scored for them? +He simply didn't attempt to tackle him. He could have brought him down +like a shot if he'd only gone for him. Paget was running straight along +the touch-line, and hadn't any room to dodge. I know Trevor was jolly +sick about it. And then he let him through once before in just the same +way in the first half, only Trevor got round and stopped him. He was +rank." + +"Missed every other pass, too," said Otway. + +Clephane summed up. + +"He was rank," he said again. "Trevor won't keep him in the team long." + +"I wish Paget hadn't left," said Otway, referring to the wing +three-quarter who, by leaving unexpectedly at the end of the Christmas +term, had let Rand-Brown into the team. His loss was likely to be felt. +Up till Christmas Wrykyn had done well, and Paget had been their scoring +man. Rand-Brown had occupied a similar position in the second fifteen. +He was big and speedy, and in second fifteen matches these qualities +make up for a great deal. If a man scores one or two tries in nearly +every match, people are inclined to overlook in him such failings as +timidity and clumsiness. It is only when he comes to be tried in +football of a higher class that he is seen through. In the second +fifteen the fact that Rand-Brown was afraid to tackle his man had +almost escaped notice. But the habit would not do in first fifteen +circles. + +"All the same," said Clephane, pursuing his subject, "if they don't +play him, I don't see who they're going to get. He's the best of the +second three-quarters, as far as I can see." + +It was this very problem that was puzzling Trevor, as he walked off the +field with Paget and Clowes, when they had got into their blazers after +the match. Clowes was in the same house as Trevor--Donaldson's--and +Paget was staying there, too. He had been head of Donaldson's up to +Christmas. + +"It strikes me," said Paget, "the school haven't got over the holidays +yet. I never saw such a lot of slackers. You ought to have taken thirty +points off the sort of team you had against you today." + +"Have you ever known the school play well on the second day of term?" +asked Clowes. "The forwards always play as if the whole thing bored +them to death." + +"It wasn't the forwards that mattered so much," said Trevor. "They'll +shake down all right after a few matches. A little running and passing +will put them right." + +"Let's hope so," Paget observed, "or we might as well scratch to Ripton +at once. There's a jolly sight too much of the mince-pie and Christmas +pudding about their play at present." There was a pause. Then Paget +brought out the question towards which he had been moving all the time. + +"What do you think of Rand-Brown?" he asked. + +It was pretty clear by the way he spoke what he thought of that player +himself, but in discussing with a football captain the capabilities of +the various members of his team, it is best to avoid a too positive +statement one way or the other before one has heard his views on the +subject. And Paget was one of those people who like to know the +opinions of others before committing themselves. + +Clowes, on the other hand, was in the habit of forming his views on his +own account, and expressing them. If people agreed with them, well and +good: it afforded strong presumptive evidence of their sanity. If they +disagreed, it was unfortunate, but he was not going to alter his +opinions for that, unless convinced at great length that they were +unsound. He summed things up, and gave you the result. You could take +it or leave it, as you preferred. + +"I thought he was bad," said Clowes. + +"Bad!" exclaimed Trevor, "he was a disgrace. One can understand a chap +having his off-days at any game, but one doesn't expect a man in the +Wrykyn first to funk. He mucked five out of every six passes I gave +him, too, and the ball wasn't a bit slippery. Still, I shouldn't mind +that so much if he had only gone for his man properly. It isn't being +out of practice that makes you funk. And even when he did have a try at +you, Paget, he always went high." + +"That," said Clowes thoughtfully, "would seem to show that he was +game." + +Nobody so much as smiled. Nobody ever did smile at Clowes' essays in +wit, perhaps because of the solemn, almost sad, tone of voice in which +he delivered them. He was tall and dark and thin, and had a pensive +eye, which encouraged the more soulful of his female relatives to +entertain hopes that he would some day take orders. + +"Well," said Paget, relieved at finding that he did not stand alone in +his views on Rand-Brown's performance, "I must say I thought he was +awfully bad myself." + +"I shall try somebody else next match," said Trevor. "It'll be rather +hard, though. The man one would naturally put in, Bryce, left at +Christmas, worse luck." + +Bryce was the other wing three-quarter of the second fifteen. + +"Isn't there anybody in the third?" asked Paget. + +"Barry," said Clowes briefly. + +"Clowes thinks Barry's good," explained Trevor. + +"He _is_ good," said Clowes. "I admit he's small, but he can +tackle." + +"The question is, would he be any good in the first? A chap might do +jolly well for the third, and still not be worth trying for the first." + +"I don't remember much about Barry," said Paget, "except being collared +by him when we played Seymour's last year in the final. I certainly +came away with a sort of impression that he could tackle. I thought he +marked me jolly well." + +"There you are, then," said Clowes. "A year ago Barry could tackle +Paget. There's no reason for supposing that he's fallen off since then. +We've seen that Rand-Brown _can't_ tackle Paget. Ergo, Barry is +better worth playing for the team than Rand-Brown. Q.E.D." + +"All right, then," replied Trevor. "There can't be any harm in trying +him. We'll have another scratch game on Thursday. Will you be here +then, Paget?" + +"Oh, yes. I'm stopping till Saturday." + +"Good man. Then we shall be able to see how he does against you. I wish +you hadn't left, though, by Jove. We should have had Ripton on toast, +the same as last term." + +Wrykyn played five schools, but six school matches. The school that +they played twice in the season was Ripton. To win one Ripton match +meant that, however many losses it might have sustained in the other +matches, the school had had, at any rate, a passable season. To win two +Ripton matches in the same year was almost unheard of. This year there +had seemed every likelihood of it. The match before Christmas on the +Ripton ground had resulted in a win for Wrykyn by two goals and a try +to a try. But the calculations of the school had been upset by the +sudden departure of Paget at the end of term, and also of Bryce, who +had hitherto been regarded as his understudy. And in the first Ripton +match the two goals had both been scored by Paget, and both had been +brilliant bits of individual play, which a lesser man could not have +carried through. + +The conclusion, therefore, at which the school reluctantly arrived, was +that their chances of winning the second match could not be judged by +their previous success. They would have to approach the Easter term +fixture from another--a non-Paget--standpoint. In these circumstances +it became a serious problem: who was to get the fifteenth place? +Whoever played in Paget's stead against Ripton would be certain, if the +match were won, to receive his colours. Who, then, would fill the +vacancy? + +"Rand-Brown, of course," said the crowd. + +But the experts, as we have shown, were of a different opinion. + + + + +II + +THE GOLD BAT + + +Trevor did not take long to resume a garb of civilisation. He never +wasted much time over anything. He was gifted with a boundless energy, +which might possibly have made him unpopular had he not justified it by +results. The football of the school had never been in such a +flourishing condition as it had attained to on his succeeding to the +captaincy. It was not only that the first fifteen was good. The +excellence of a first fifteen does not always depend on the captain. +But the games, even down to the very humblest junior game, had woken up +one morning--at the beginning of the previous term--to find themselves, +much to their surprise, organised going concerns. Like the immortal +Captain Pott, Trevor was "a terror to the shirker and the lubber". And +the resemblance was further increased by the fact that he was "a +toughish lot", who was "little, but steel and india-rubber". At first +sight his appearance was not imposing. Paterfamilias, who had heard his +son's eulogies on Trevor's performances during the holidays, and came +down to watch the school play a match, was generally rather +disappointed on seeing five feet six where he had looked for at least +six foot one, and ten stone where he had expected thirteen. But then, +what there was of Trevor was, as previously remarked, steel and +india-rubber, and he certainly played football like a miniature +Stoddart. It was characteristic of him that, though this was the +first match of the term, his condition seemed to be as good as +possible. He had done all his own work on the field and most of +Rand-Brown's, and apparently had not turned a hair. He was one of +those conscientious people who train in the holidays. + +When he had changed, he went down the passage to Clowes' study. Clowes was +in the position he frequently took up when the weather was good--wedged +into his window in a sitting position, one leg in the study, the other +hanging outside over space. The indoor leg lacked a boot, so that it was +evident that its owner had at least had the energy to begin to change. +That he had given the thing up after that, exhausted with the effort, was +what one naturally expected from Clowes. He would have made a splendid +actor: he was so good at resting. + +"Hurry up and dress," said Trevor; "I want you to come over to the +baths." + +"What on earth do you want over at the baths?" + +"I want to see O'Hara." + +"Oh, yes, I remember. Dexter's are camping out there, aren't they? I +heard they were. Why is it?" + +"One of the Dexter kids got measles in the last week of the holidays, +so they shunted all the beds and things across, and the chaps went back +there instead of to the house." + +In the winter term the baths were always boarded over and converted +into a sort of extra gymnasium where you could go and box or fence when +there was no room to do it in the real gymnasium. Socker and stump-cricket +were also largely played there, the floor being admirably suited to such +games, though the light was always rather tricky, and prevented heavy +scoring. + +"I should think," said Clowes, "from what I've seen of Dexter's +beauties, that Dexter would like them to camp out at the bottom of the +baths all the year round. It would be a happy release for him if they +were all drowned. And I suppose if he had to choose any one of them for +a violent death, he'd pick O'Hara. O'Hara must be a boon to a +house-master. I've known chaps break rules when the spirit moved +them, but he's the only one I've met who breaks them all day long +and well into the night simply for amusement. I've often thought of +writing to the S.P.C.A. about it. I suppose you could call Dexter an +animal all right?" + +"O'Hara's right enough, really. A man like Dexter would make any fellow +run amuck. And then O'Hara's an Irishman to start with, which makes a +difference." + +There is usually one house in every school of the black sheep sort, +and, if you go to the root of the matter, you will generally find that +the fault is with the master of that house. A house-master who enters +into the life of his house, coaches them in games--if an athlete--or, +if not an athlete, watches the games, umpiring at cricket and +refereeing at football, never finds much difficulty in keeping order. +It may be accepted as fact that the juniors of a house will never be +orderly of their own free will, but disturbances in the junior day-room +do not make the house undisciplined. The prefects are the criterion. +If you find them joining in the general "rags", and even starting +private ones on their own account, then you may safely say that it is +time the master of that house retired from the business, and took to +chicken-farming. And that was the state of things in Dexter's. It was +the most lawless of the houses. Mr Dexter belonged to a type of master +almost unknown at a public school--the usher type. In a private school +he might have passed. At Wrykyn he was out of place. To him the whole +duty of a house-master appeared to be to wage war against his house. + +When Dexter's won the final for the cricket cup in the summer term of +two years back, the match lasted four afternoons--four solid afternoons +of glorious, up-and-down cricket. Mr Dexter did not see a single ball of +that match bowled. He was prowling in sequestered lanes and broken-down +barns out of bounds on the off-chance that he might catch some member of +his house smoking there. As if the whole of the house, from the head to +the smallest fag, were not on the field watching Day's best bats collapse +before Henderson's bowling, and Moriarty hit up that marvellous and +unexpected fifty-three at the end of the second innings! + +That sort of thing definitely stamps a master. + +"What do you want to see O'Hara about?" asked Clowes. + +"He's got my little gold bat. I lent it him in the holidays." + +A remark which needs a footnote. The bat referred to was made of gold, +and was about an inch long by an eighth broad. It had come into +existence some ten years previously, in the following manner. The +inter-house cricket cup at Wrykyn had originally been a rather +tarnished and unimpressive vessel, whose only merit consisted in the +fact that it was of silver. Ten years ago an Old Wrykinian, suddenly +reflecting that it would not be a bad idea to do something for the +school in a small way, hied him to the nearest jeweller's and purchased +another silver cup, vast withal and cunningly decorated with filigree +work, and standing on a massive ebony plinth, round which were little +silver lozenges just big enough to hold the name of the winning house +and the year of grace. This he presented with his blessing to be +competed for by the dozen houses that made up the school of Wrykyn, and +it was formally established as the house cricket cup. The question now +arose: what was to be done with the other cup? The School House, who +happened to be the holders at the time, suggested disinterestedly that +it should become the property of the house which had won it last. "Not +so," replied the Field Sports Committee, "but far otherwise. We will +have it melted down in a fiery furnace, and thereafter fashioned into +eleven little silver bats. And these little silver bats shall be the +guerdon of the eleven members of the winning team, to have and to hold +for the space of one year, unless, by winning the cup twice in +succession, they gain the right of keeping the bat for yet another +year. How is that, umpire?" And the authorities replied, "O men of +infinite resource and sagacity, verily is it a cold day when _you_ +get left behind. Forge ahead." But, when they had forged ahead, behold! +it would not run to eleven little silver bats, but only to ten little +silver bats. Thereupon the headmaster, a man liberal with his cash, +caused an eleventh little bat to be fashioned--for the captain of the +winning team to have and to hold in the manner aforesaid. And, to +single it out from the others, it was wrought, not of silver, but of +gold. And so it came to pass that at the time of our story Trevor was +in possession of the little gold bat, because Donaldson's had won the +cup in the previous summer, and he had captained them--and, +incidentally, had scored seventy-five without a mistake. + +"Well, I'm hanged if I would trust O'Hara with my bat," said Clowes, +referring to the silver ornament on his own watch-chain; "he's probably +pawned yours in the holidays. Why did you lend it to him?" + +"His people wanted to see it. I know him at home, you know. They asked +me to lunch the last day but one of the holidays, and we got talking +about the bat, because, of course, if we hadn't beaten Dexter's in the +final, O'Hara would have had it himself. So I sent it over next day +with a note asking O'Hara to bring it back with him here." + +"Oh, well, there's a chance, then, seeing he's only had it so little +time, that he hasn't pawned it yet. You'd better rush off and get it +back as soon as possible. It's no good waiting for me. I shan't be +ready for weeks." + +"Where's Paget?" + +"Teaing with Donaldson. At least, he said he was going to." + +"Then I suppose I shall have to go alone. I hate walking alone." + +"If you hurry," said Clowes, scanning the road from his post of +vantage, "you'll be able to go with your fascinating pal Ruthven. He's +just gone out." + +Trevor dashed downstairs in his energetic way, and overtook the youth +referred to. + +Clowes brooded over them from above like a sorrowful and rather +disgusted Providence. Trevor's liking for Ruthven, who was a +Donaldsonite like himself, was one of the few points on which the two +had any real disagreement. Clowes could not understand how any person +in his senses could of his own free will make an intimate friend of +Ruthven. + +"Hullo, Trevor," said Ruthven. + +"Come over to the baths," said Trevor, "I want to see O'Hara about +something. Or were you going somewhere else." + +"I wasn't going anywhere in particular. I never know what to do in +term-time. It's deadly dull." + +Trevor could never understand how any one could find term-time dull. +For his own part, there always seemed too much to do in the time. + +"You aren't allowed to play games?" he said, remembering something +about a doctor's certificate in the past. + +"No," said Ruthven. "Thank goodness," he added. + +Which remark silenced Trevor. To a person who thanked goodness that he +was not allowed to play games he could find nothing to say. But he +ceased to wonder how it was that Ruthven was dull. + +They proceeded to the baths together in silence. O'Hara, they were +informed by a Dexter's fag who met them outside the door, was not +about. + +"When he comes back," said Trevor, "tell him I want him to come to tea +tomorrow directly after school, and bring my bat. Don't forget." + +The fag promised to make a point of it. + + + + +III + +THE MAYOR'S STATUE + + +One of the rules that governed the life of Donough O'Hara, the +light-hearted descendant of the O'Haras of Castle Taterfields, Co. +Clare, Ireland, was "Never refuse the offer of a free tea". So, on +receipt--per the Dexter's fag referred to--of Trevor's invitation, he +scratched one engagement (with his mathematical master--not wholly +unconnected with the working-out of Examples 200 to 206 in Hall and +Knight's Algebra), postponed another (with his friend and ally Moriarty, +of Dexter's, who wished to box with him in the gymnasium), and made his +way at a leisurely pace towards Donaldson's. He was feeling particularly +pleased with himself today, for several reasons. He had begun the day +well by scoring brilliantly off Mr Dexter across the matutinal rasher +and coffee. In morning school he had been put on to translate the one +passage which he happened to have prepared--the first ten lines, in +fact, of the hundred which formed the morning's lesson. And in the +final hour of afternoon school, which was devoted to French, he had +discovered and exploited with great success an entirely new and original +form of ragging. This, he felt, was the strenuous life; this was living +one's life as one's life should be lived. + +He met Trevor at the gate. As they were going in, a carriage and pair +dashed past. Its cargo consisted of two people, the headmaster, looking +bored, and a small, dapper man, with a very red face, who looked +excited, and was talking volubly. Trevor and O'Hara raised their caps +as the chariot swept by, but the salute passed unnoticed. The Head +appeared to be wrapped in thought. + +"What's the Old Man doing in a carriage, I wonder," said Trevor, +looking after them. "Who's that with him?" + +"That," said O'Hara, "is Sir Eustace Briggs." + +"Who's Sir Eustace Briggs?" + +O'Hara explained, in a rich brogue, that Sir Eustace was Mayor of +Wrykyn, a keen politician, and a hater of the Irish nation, judging by +his letters and speeches. + +They went into Trevor's study. Clowes was occupying the window in his +usual manner. + +"Hullo, O'Hara," he said, "there is an air of quiet satisfaction about +you that seems to show that you've been ragging Dexter. Have you?" + +"Oh, that was only this morning at breakfast. The best rag was in +French," replied O'Hara, who then proceeded to explain in detail the +methods he had employed to embitter the existence of the hapless Gallic +exile with whom he had come in contact. It was that gentleman's custom +to sit on a certain desk while conducting the lesson. This desk chanced +to be O'Hara's. On the principle that a man may do what he likes with +his own, he had entered the room privily in the dinner-hour, and +removed the screws from his desk, with the result that for the first +half-hour of the lesson the class had been occupied in excavating M. +Gandinois from the ruins. That gentleman's first act on regaining his +equilibrium had been to send O'Hara out of the room, and O'Hara, who +had foreseen this emergency, had spent a very pleasant half-hour in the +passage with some mixed chocolates and a copy of Mr Hornung's +_Amateur Cracksman_. It was his notion of a cheerful and instructive +French lesson. + +"What were you talking about when you came in?" asked Clowes. "Who's +been slanging Ireland, O'Hara?" + +"The man Briggs." + +"What are you going to do about it? Aren't you going to take any +steps?" + +"Is it steps?" said O'Hara, warmly, "and haven't we----" + +He stopped. + +"Well?" + +"Ye know," he said, seriously, "ye mustn't let it go any further. I +shall get sacked if it's found out. An' so will Moriarty, too." + +"Why?" asked Trevor, looking up from the tea-pot he was filling, "what +on earth have you been doing?" + +"Wouldn't it be rather a cheery idea," suggested Clowes, "if you began +at the beginning." + +"Well, ye see," O'Hara began, "it was this way. The first I heard of it +was from Dexter. He was trying to score off me as usual, an' he said, +'Have ye seen the paper this morning, O'Hara?' I said, no, I had not. +Then he said, 'Ah,' he said, 'ye should look at it. There's something +there that ye'll find interesting.' I said, 'Yes, sir?' in me +respectful way. 'Yes,' said he, 'the Irish members have been making +their customary disturbances in the House. Why is it, O'Hara,' he said, +'that Irishmen are always thrusting themselves forward and making +disturbances for purposes of self-advertisement?' 'Why, indeed, sir?' +said I, not knowing what else to say, and after that the conversation +ceased." + +"Go on," said Clowes. + +"After breakfast Moriarty came to me with a paper, and showed me what +they had been saying about the Irish. There was a letter from the man +Briggs on the subject. 'A very sensible and temperate letter from Sir +Eustace Briggs', they called it, but bedad! if that was a temperate +letter, I should like to know what an intemperate one is. Well, we read +it through, and Moriarty said to me, 'Can we let this stay as it is?' +And I said, 'No. We can't.' 'Well,' said Moriarty to me, 'what are we +to do about it? I should like to tar and feather the man,' he said. 'We +can't do that,' I said, 'but why not tar and feather his statue?' I +said. So we thought we would. Ye know where the statue is, I suppose? +It's in the recreation ground just across the river." + +"I know the place," said Clowes. "Go on. This is ripping. I always knew +you were pretty mad, but this sounds as if it were going to beat all +previous records." + +"Have ye seen the baths this term," continued O'Hara, "since they +shifted Dexter's house into them? The beds are in two long rows along +each wall. Moriarty's and mine are the last two at the end farthest +from the door." + +"Just under the gallery," said Trevor. "I see." + +"That's it. Well, at half-past ten sharp every night Dexter sees that +we're all in, locks the door, and goes off to sleep at the Old Man's, +and we don't see him again till breakfast. He turns the gas off from +outside. At half-past seven the next morning, Smith"--Smith was one of +the school porters--"unlocks the door and calls us, and we go over to +the Hall to breakfast." + +"Well?" + +"Well, directly everybody was asleep last night--it wasn't till after +one, as there was a rag on--Moriarty and I got up, dressed, and climbed +up into the gallery. Ye know the gallery windows? They open at the top, +an' it's rather hard to get out of them. But we managed it, and dropped +on to the gravel outside." + +"Long drop," said Clowes. + +"Yes. I hurt myself rather. But it was in a good cause. I dropped +first, and while I was on the ground, Moriarty came on top of me. +That's how I got hurt. But it wasn't much, and we cut across the +grounds, and over the fence, and down to the river. It was a fine +night, and not very dark, and everything smelt ripping down by the +river." + +"Don't get poetical," said Clowes. "Stick to the point." + +"We got into the boat-house--" + +"How?" asked the practical Trevor, for the boat-house was wont to be +locked at one in the morning. "Moriarty had a key that fitted," +explained O'Hara, briefly. "We got in, and launched a boat--a big +tub--put in the tar and a couple of brushes--there's always tar in +the boat-house--and rowed across." + +"Wait a bit," interrupted Trevor, "you said tar and feathers. Where did +you get the feathers?" + +"We used leaves. They do just as well, and there were heaps on the +bank. Well, when we landed, we tied up the boat, and bucked across to +the Recreation Ground. We got over the railings--beastly, spiky +railings--and went over to the statue. Ye know where the statue stands? +It's right in the middle of the place, where everybody can see it. +Moriarty got up first, and I handed him the tar and a brush. Then I +went up with the other brush, and we began. We did his face first. It +was too dark to see really well, but I think we made a good job of it. +When we had put about as much tar on as we thought would do, we took +out the leaves--which we were carrying in our pockets--and spread them +on. Then we did the rest of him, and after about half an hour, when we +thought we'd done about enough, we got into our boat again, and came +back." + +"And what did you do till half-past seven?" + +"We couldn't get back the way we'd come, so we slept in the boat-house." + +"Well--I'm--hanged," was Trevor's comment on the story. + +Clowes roared with laughter. O'Hara was a perpetual joy to him. + +As O'Hara was going, Trevor asked him for his gold bat. + +"You haven't lost it, I hope?" he said. + +O'Hara felt in his pocket, but brought his hand out at once and +transferred it to another pocket. A look of anxiety came over his face, +and was reflected in Trevor's. + +"I could have sworn it was in that pocket," he said. + +"You _haven't_ lost it?" queried Trevor again. + +"He has," said Clowes, confidently. "If you want to know where that bat +is, I should say you'd find it somewhere between the baths and the +statue. At the foot of the statue, for choice. It seems to me--correct +me if I am wrong--that you have been and gone and done it, me broth av +a bhoy." + +O'Hara gave up the search. + +"It's gone," he said. "Man, I'm most awfully sorry. I'd sooner have +lost a ten-pound note." + +"I don't see why you should lose either," snapped Trevor. "Why the +blazes can't you be more careful." + +O'Hara was too penitent for words. Clowes took it on himself to point +out the bright side. + +"There's nothing to get sick about, really," he said. "If the thing +doesn't turn up, though it probably will, you'll simply have to tell +the Old Man that it's lost. He'll have another made. You won't be asked +for it till just before Sports Day either, so you will have plenty of +time to find it." + +The challenge cups, and also the bats, had to be given to the +authorities before the sports, to be formally presented on Sports Day. + +"Oh, I suppose it'll be all right," said Trevor, "but I hope it won't +be found anywhere near the statue." + +O'Hara said he hoped so too. + + + + +IV + +THE LEAGUE'S WARNING + + +The team to play in any match was always put upon the notice-board at +the foot of the stairs in the senior block a day before the date of the +fixture. Both first and second fifteens had matches on the Thursday of +this week. The second were playing a team brought down by an old +Wrykinian. The first had a scratch game. + +When Barry, accompanied by M'Todd, who shared his study at Seymour's +and rarely left him for two minutes on end, passed by the notice-board +at the quarter to eleven interval, it was to the second fifteen list +that he turned his attention. Now that Bryce had left, he thought he +might have a chance of getting into the second. His only real rival, he +considered, was Crawford, of the School House, who was the other wing +three-quarter of the third fifteen. The first name he saw on the list +was Crawford's. It seemed to be written twice as large as any of the +others, and his own was nowhere to be seen. The fact that he had half +expected the calamity made things no better. He had set his heart on +playing for the second this term. + +Then suddenly he noticed a remarkable phenomenon. The other wing +three-quarter was Rand-Brown. If Rand-Brown was playing for the second, +who was playing for the first? + +He looked at the list. + +"_Come_ on," he said hastily to M'Todd. He wanted to get away +somewhere where his agitated condition would not be noticed. He felt +quite faint at the shock of seeing his name on the list of the first +fifteen. There it was, however, as large as life. "M. Barry." Separated +from the rest by a thin red line, but still there. In his most +optimistic moments he had never dreamed of this. M'Todd was reading +slowly through the list of the second. He did everything slowly, except +eating. + +"Come on," said Barry again. + +M'Todd had, after much deliberation, arrived at a profound truth. He +turned to Barry, and imparted his discovery to him in the weighty +manner of one who realises the importance of his words. + +"Look here," he said, "your name's not down here." + +"I know. _Come_ on." + +"But that means you're not playing for the second." + +"Of course it does. Well, if you aren't coming, I'm off." + +"But, look here----" + +Barry disappeared through the door. After a moment's pause, M'Todd +followed him. He came up with him on the senior gravel. + +"What's up?" he inquired. + +"Nothing," said Barry. + +"Are you sick about not playing for the second?" + +"No." + +"You are, really. Come and have a bun." + +In the philosophy of M'Todd it was indeed a deep-rooted sorrow that +could not be cured by the internal application of a new, hot bun. It +had never failed in his own case. + +"Bun!" Barry was quite shocked at the suggestion. "I can't afford to +get myself out of condition with beastly buns." + +"But if you aren't playing----" + +"You ass. I'm playing for the first. Now, do you see?" + +M'Todd gaped. His mind never worked very rapidly. "What about +Rand-Brown, then?" he said. + +"Rand-Brown's been chucked out. Can't you understand? You _are_ an +idiot. Rand-Brown's playing for the second, and I'm playing for the +first." + +"But you're----" + +He stopped. He had been going to point out that Barry's tender years--he +was only sixteen--and smallness would make it impossible for him to play +with success for the first fifteen. He refrained owing to a conviction +that the remark would not be wholly judicious. Barry was touchy on the +subject of his size, and M'Todd had suffered before now for commenting +on it in a disparaging spirit. + +"I tell you what we'll do after school," said Barry, "we'll have some +running and passing. It'll do you a lot of good, and I want to practise +taking passes at full speed. You can trot along at your ordinary pace, +and I'll sprint up from behind." + +M'Todd saw no objection to that. Trotting along at his ordinary +pace--five miles an hour--would just suit him. + +"Then after that," continued Barry, with a look of enthusiasm, "I want +to practise passing back to my centre. Paget used to do it awfully well +last term, and I know Trevor expects his wing to. So I'll buck along, +and you race up to take my pass. See?" + +This was not in M'Todd's line at all. He proposed a slight alteration +in the scheme. + +"Hadn't you better get somebody else--?" he began. + +"Don't be a slack beast," said Barry. "You want exercise awfully +badly." + +And, as M'Todd always did exactly as Barry wished, he gave in, and +spent from four-thirty to five that afternoon in the prescribed manner. +A suggestion on his part at five sharp that it wouldn't be a bad idea +to go and have some tea was not favourably received by the enthusiastic +three-quarter, who proposed to devote what time remained before lock-up +to practising drop-kicking. It was a painful alternative that faced +M'Todd. His allegiance to Barry demanded that he should consent to the +scheme. On the other hand, his allegiance to afternoon tea--equally +strong--called him back to the house, where there was cake, and also +muffins. In the end the question was solved by the appearance of +Drummond, of Seymour's, garbed in football things, and also anxious to +practise drop-kicking. So M'Todd was dismissed to his tea with +opprobrious epithets, and Barry and Drummond settled down to a little +serious and scientific work. + +Making allowances for the inevitable attack of nerves that attends a +first appearance in higher football circles than one is accustomed to, +Barry did well against the scratch team--certainly far better than +Rand-Brown had done. His smallness was, of course, against him, and, on +the only occasion on which he really got away, Paget overtook him and +brought him down. But then Paget was exceptionally fast. In the two +most important branches of the game, the taking of passes and tackling, +Barry did well. As far as pluck went he had enough for two, and when +the whistle blew for no-side he had not let Paget through once, and +Trevor felt that his inclusion in the team had been justified. There +was another scratch game on the Saturday. Barry played in it, and did +much better. Paget had gone away by an early train, and the man he had +to mark now was one of the masters, who had been good in his time, but +was getting a trifle old for football. Barry scored twice, and on one +occasion, by passing back to Trevor after the manner of Paget, enabled +the captain to run in. And Trevor, like the captain in _Billy +Taylor_, "werry much approved of what he'd done." Barry began to be +regarded in the school as a regular member of the fifteen. The first of +the fixture-card matches, versus the Town, was due on the following +Saturday, and it was generally expected that he would play. M'Todd's +devotion increased every day. He even went to the length of taking long +runs with him. And if there was one thing in the world that M'Todd +loathed, it was a long run. + +On the Thursday before the match against the Town, Clowes came +chuckling to Trevor's study after preparation, and asked him if he had +heard the latest. + +"Have you ever heard of the League?" he said. + +Trevor pondered. + +"I don't think so," he replied. + +"How long have you been at the school?" + +"Let's see. It'll be five years at the end of the summer term." + +"Ah, then you wouldn't remember. I've been here a couple of terms +longer than you, and the row about the League was in my first term." + +"What was the row?" + +"Oh, only some chaps formed a sort of secret society in the place. Kind +of Vehmgericht, you know. If they got their knife into any one, he +usually got beans, and could never find out where they came from. At +first, as a matter of fact, the thing was quite a philanthropical +concern. There used to be a good deal of bullying in the place then--at +least, in some of the houses--and, as the prefects couldn't or wouldn't +stop it, some fellows started this League." + +"Did it work?" + +"Work! By Jove, I should think it did. Chaps who previously couldn't +get through the day without making some wretched kid's life not worth +living used to go about as nervous as cats, looking over their +shoulders every other second. There was one man in particular, a chap +called Leigh. He was hauled out of bed one night, blindfolded, and +ducked in a cold bath. He was in the School House." + +"Why did the League bust up?" + +"Well, partly because the fellows left, but chiefly because they didn't +stick to the philanthropist idea. If anybody did anything they didn't +like, they used to go for him. At last they put their foot into it +badly. A chap called Robinson--in this house by the way--offended them +in some way, and one morning he was found tied up in the bath, up to +his neck in cold water. Apparently he'd been there about an hour. He +got pneumonia, and almost died, and then the authorities began to get +going. Robinson thought he had recognised the voice of one of the +chaps--I forget his name. The chap was had up by the Old Man, and gave +the show away entirely. About a dozen fellows were sacked, clean off +the reel. Since then the thing has been dropped." + +"But what about it? What were you going to say when you came in?" + +"Why, it's been revived!" + +"Rot!" + +"It's a fact. Do you know Mill, a prefect, in Seymour's?" + +"Only by sight." + +"I met him just now. He's in a raving condition. His study's been +wrecked. You never saw such a sight. Everything upside down or smashed. +He has been showing me the ruins." + +"I believe Mill is awfully barred in Seymour's," said Trevor. "Anybody +might have ragged his study." + +"That's just what I thought. He's just the sort of man the League used +to go for." + +"That doesn't prove that it's been revived, all the same," objected +Trevor. + +"No, friend; but this does. Mill found it tied to a chair." + +It was a small card. It looked like an ordinary visiting card. On it, +in neat print, were the words, "_With the compliments of the +League_". + +"That's exactly the same sort of card as they used to use," said +Clowes. "I've seen some of them. What do you think of that?" + +"I think whoever has started the thing is a pretty average-sized idiot. +He's bound to get caught some time or other, and then out he goes. The +Old Man wouldn't think twice about sacking a chap of that sort." + +"A chap of that sort," said Clowes, "will take jolly good care he isn't +caught. But it's rather sport, isn't it?" + +And he went off to his study. + +Next day there was further evidence that the League was an actual going +concern. When Trevor came down to breakfast, he found a letter by his +plate. It was printed, as the card had been. It was signed "The +President of the League." And the purport of it was that the League did +not wish Barry to continue to play for the first fifteen. + + + + +V + +MILL RECEIVES VISITORS + + +Trevor's first idea was that somebody had sent the letter for a +joke,--Clowes for choice. + +He sounded him on the subject after breakfast. + +"Did you send me that letter?" he inquired, when Clowes came into his +study to borrow a _Sportsman_. + +"What letter? Did you send the team for tomorrow up to the sporter? I +wonder what sort of a lot the Town are bringing." + +"About not giving Barry his footer colours?" + +Clowes was reading the paper. + +"Giving whom?" he asked. + +"Barry. Can't you listen?" + +"Giving him what?" + +"Footer colours." + +"What about them?" + +Trevor sprang at the paper, and tore it away from him. After which he +sat on the fragments. + +"Did you send me a letter about not giving Barry his footer colours?" + +Clowes surveyed him with the air of a nurse to whom the family baby has +just said some more than usually good thing. + +"Don't stop," he said, "I could listen all day." + +Trevor felt in his pocket for the note, and flung it at him. Clowes +picked it up, and read it gravely. + +"What _are_ footer colours?" he asked. + +"Well," said Trevor, "it's a pretty rotten sort of joke, whoever sent +it. You haven't said yet whether you did or not." + +"What earthly reason should I have for sending it? And I think you're +making a mistake if you think this is meant as a joke." + +"You don't really believe this League rot?" + +"You didn't see Mill's study 'after treatment'. I did. Anyhow, how do +you account for the card I showed you?" + +"But that sort of thing doesn't happen at school." + +"Well, it _has_ happened, you see." + +"Who do you think did send the letter, then?" + +"The President of the League." + +"And who the dickens is the President of the League when he's at home?" + +"If I knew that, I should tell Mill, and earn his blessing. Not that I +want it." + +"Then, I suppose," snorted Trevor, "you'd suggest that on the strength +of this letter I'd better leave Barry out of the team?" + +"Satirically in brackets," commented Clowes. + +"It's no good your jumping on _me_," he added. "I've done nothing. +All I suggest is that you'd better keep more or less of a look-out. If +this League's anything like the old one, you'll find they've all sorts +of ways of getting at people they don't love. I shouldn't like to come +down for a bath some morning, and find you already in possession, tied +up like Robinson. When they found Robinson, he was quite blue both as +to the face and speech. He didn't speak very clearly, but what one +could catch was well worth hearing. I should advise you to sleep with a +loaded revolver under your pillow." + +"The first thing I shall do is find out who wrote this letter." + +"I should," said Clowes, encouragingly. "Keep moving." + +In Seymour's house the Mill's study incident formed the only theme of +conversation that morning. Previously the sudden elevation to the first +fifteen of Barry, who was popular in the house, at the expense of +Rand-Brown, who was unpopular, had given Seymour's something to talk +about. But the ragging of the study put this topic entirely in the shade. +The study was still on view in almost its original condition of disorder, +and all day comparative strangers flocked to see Mill in his den, in +order to inspect things. Mill was a youth with few friends, and it is +probable that more of his fellow-Seymourites crossed the threshold of +his study on the day after the occurrence than had visited him in the +entire course of his school career. Brown would come in to borrow a +knife, would sweep the room with one comprehensive glance, and depart, +to be followed at brief intervals by Smith, Robinson, and Jones, who +came respectively to learn the right time, to borrow a book, and to ask +him if he had seen a pencil anywhere. Towards the end of the day, Mill +would seem to have wearied somewhat of the proceedings, as was proved +when Master Thomas Renford, aged fourteen (who fagged for Milton, the +head of the house), burst in on the thin pretence that he had mistaken +the study for that of his rightful master, and gave vent to a prolonged +whistle of surprise and satisfaction at the sight of the ruins. On +that occasion, the incensed owner of the dismantled study, taking a +mean advantage of the fact that he was a prefect, and so entitled to +wield the rod, produced a handy swagger-stick from an adjacent corner, +and, inviting Master Renford to bend over, gave him six of the best to +remember him by. Which ceremony being concluded, he kicked him out into +the passage, and Renford went down to the junior day-room to tell his +friend Harvey about it. + +"Gave me six, the cad," said he, "just because I had a look at his +beastly study. Why shouldn't I look at his study if I like? I've a +jolly good mind to go up and have another squint." + +Harvey warmly approved the scheme. + +"No, I don't think I will," said Renford with a yawn. "It's such a fag +going upstairs." + +"Yes, isn't it?" said Harvey. + +"And he's such a beast, too." + +"Yes, isn't he?" said Harvey. + +"I'm jolly glad his study _has_ been ragged," continued the +vindictive Renford. + +"It's jolly exciting, isn't it?" added Harvey. "And I thought this term +was going to be slow. The Easter term generally is." + +This remark seemed to suggest a train of thought to Renford, who made +the following cryptic observation. "Have you seen them today?" + +To the ordinary person the words would have conveyed little meaning. To +Harvey they appeared to teem with import. + +"Yes," he said, "I saw them early this morning." + +"Were they all right?" + +"Yes. Splendid." + +"Good," said Renford. + +Barry's friend Drummond was one of those who had visited the scene of +the disaster early, before Mill's energetic hand had repaired the +damage done, and his narrative was consequently in some demand. + +"The place was in a frightful muck," he said. "Everything smashed +except the table; and ink all over the place. Whoever did it must have +been fairly sick with him, or he'd never have taken the trouble to do +it so thoroughly. Made a fair old hash of things, didn't he, Bertie?" + +"Bertie" was the form in which the school elected to serve up the name +of De Bertini. Raoul de Bertini was a French boy who had come to Wrykyn +in the previous term. Drummond's father had met his father in Paris, +and Drummond was supposed to be looking after Bertie. They shared a +study together. Bertie could not speak much English, and what he did +speak was, like Mill's furniture, badly broken. + +"Pardon?" he said. + +"Doesn't matter," said Drummond, "it wasn't anything important. I was +only appealing to you for corroborative detail to give artistic +verisimilitude to a bald and unconvincing narrative." + +Bertie grinned politely. He always grinned when he was not quite equal +to the intellectual pressure of the conversation. As a consequence of +which, he was generally, like Mrs Fezziwig, one vast, substantial +smile. + +"I never liked Mill much," said Barry, "but I think it's rather bad +luck on the man." + +"Once," announced M'Todd, solemnly, "he kicked me--for making a row in +the passage." It was plain that the recollection rankled. + +Barry would probably have pointed out what an excellent and +praiseworthy act on Mill's part that had been, when Rand-Brown came in. + +"Prefects' meeting?" he inquired. "Or haven't they made you a prefect +yet, M'Todd?" + +M'Todd said they had not. + +Nobody present liked Rand-Brown, and they looked at him rather +inquiringly, as if to ask what he had come for. A friend may drop in +for a chat. An acquaintance must justify his intrusion. + +Rand-Brown ignored the silent inquiry. He seated himself on the table, +and dragged up a chair to rest his legs on. + +"Talking about Mill, of course?" he said. + +"Yes," said Drummond. "Have you seen his study since it happened?" + +"Yes." + +Rand-Brown smiled, as if the recollection amused him. He was one of +those people who do not look their best when they smile. + +"Playing for the first tomorrow, Barry?" + +"I don't know," said Barry, shortly. "I haven't seen the list." + +He objected to the introduction of the topic. It is never pleasant to +have to discuss games with the very man one has ousted from the team. + +Drummond, too, seemed to feel that the situation was an embarrassing +one, for a few minutes later he got up to go over to the gymnasium. + +"Any of you chaps coming?" he asked. + +Barry and M'Todd thought they would, and the three left the room. + +"Nothing like showing a man you don't want him, eh, Bertie? What do you +think?" said Rand-Brown. + +Bertie grinned politely. + + + + +VI + +TREVOR REMAINS FIRM + + +The most immediate effect of telling anybody not to do a thing is to +make him do it, in order to assert his independence. Trevor's first act +on receipt of the letter was to include Barry in the team against the +Town. It was what he would have done in any case, but, under the +circumstances, he felt a peculiar pleasure in doing it. The incident +also had the effect of recalling to his mind the fact that he had tried +Barry in the first instance on his own responsibility, without +consulting the committee. The committee of the first fifteen consisted +of the two old colours who came immediately after the captain on the +list. The powers of a committee varied according to the determination +and truculence of the members of it. On any definite and important +step, affecting the welfare of the fifteen, the captain theoretically +could not move without their approval. But if the captain happened to +be strong-minded and the committee weak, they were apt to be slightly +out of it, and the captain would develop a habit of consulting them a +day or so after he had done a thing. He would give a man his colours, +and inform the committee of it on the following afternoon, when the +thing was done and could not be repealed. + +Trevor was accustomed to ask the advice of his lieutenants fairly +frequently. He never gave colours, for instance, off his own bat. It +seemed to him that it might be as well to learn what views Milton and +Allardyce had on the subject of Barry, and, after the Town team had +gone back across the river, defeated by a goal and a try to nil, he +changed and went over to Seymour's to interview Milton. + +Milton was in an arm-chair, watching Renford brew tea. His was one of +the few studies in the school in which there was an arm-chair. With the +majority of his contemporaries, it would only run to the portable kind +that fold up. + +"Come and have some tea, Trevor," said Milton. + +"Thanks. If there's any going." + +"Heaps. Is there anything to eat, Renford?" + +The fag, appealed to on this important point, pondered darkly for a +moment. + +"There _was_ some cake," he said. + +"That's all right," interrupted Milton, cheerfully. "Scratch the cake. +I ate it before the match. Isn't there anything else?" + +Milton had a healthy appetite. + +"Then there used to be some biscuits." + +"Biscuits are off. I finished 'em yesterday. Look here, young Renford, +what you'd better do is cut across to the shop and get some more cake +and some more biscuits, and tell 'em to put it down to me. And don't be +long." + +"A miles better idea would be to send him over to Donaldson's to fetch +something from my study," suggested Trevor. "It isn't nearly so far, +and I've got heaps of stuff." + +"Ripping. Cut over to Donaldson's, young Renford. As a matter of fact," +he added, confidentially, when the emissary had vanished, "I'm not half +sure that the other dodge would have worked. They seem to think at the +shop that I've had about enough things on tick lately. I haven't +settled up for last term yet. I've spent all I've got on this study. +What do you think of those photographs?" + + + +Trevor got up and inspected them. They filled the mantelpiece and most +of the wall above it. They were exclusively theatrical photographs, and +of a variety to suit all tastes. For the earnest student of the drama +there was Sir Henry Irving in _The Bells_, and Mr Martin Harvey in +_The Only Way._ For the admirers of the merely beautiful there +were Messrs Dan Leno and Herbert Campbell. + +"Not bad," said Trevor. "Beastly waste of money." + +"Waste of money!" Milton was surprised and pained at the criticism. +"Why, you must spend your money on _something."_ + +"Rot, I call it," said Trevor. "If you want to collect something, why +don't you collect something worth having?" + +Just then Renford came back with the supplies. + +"Thanks," said Milton, "put 'em down. Does the billy boil, young +Renford?" + +Renford asked for explanatory notes. + +"You're a bit of an ass at times, aren't you?" said Milton, kindly. +"What I meant was, is the tea ready? If it is, you can scoot. If it +isn't, buck up with it." + +A sound of bubbling and a rush of steam from the spout of the kettle +proclaimed that the billy did boil. Renford extinguished the Etna, and +left the room, while Milton, murmuring vague formulae about "one +spoonful for each person and one for the pot", got out of his chair +with a groan--for the Town match had been an energetic one--and began +to prepare tea. + +"What I really came round about--" began Trevor. + +"Half a second. I can't find the milk." + +He went to the door, and shouted for Renford. On that overworked +youth's appearance, the following dialogue took place. + +"Where's the milk?" + +"What milk?" + +"My milk." + +"There isn't any." This in a tone not untinged with triumph, as if the +speaker realised that here was a distinct score to him. + +"No milk?" + +"No." + +"Why not?" + +"You never had any." + +"Well, just cut across--no, half a second. What are you doing +downstairs?" + +"Having tea." + +"Then you've got milk." + +"Only a little." This apprehensively. + +"Bring it up. You can have what we leave." + +Disgusted retirement of Master Renford. + +"What I really came about," said Trevor again, "was business." + +"Colours?" inquired Milton, rummaging in the tin for biscuits with +sugar on them. "Good brand of biscuit you keep, Trevor." + +"Yes. I think we might give Alexander and Parker their third." + +"All right. Any others?" + +"Barry his second, do you think?" + +"Rather. He played a good game today. He's an improvement on +Rand-Brown." + +"Glad you think so. I was wondering whether it was the right thing to +do, chucking Rand-Brown out after one trial like that. But still, if +you think Barry's better--" + +"Streets better. I've had heaps of chances of watching them and +comparing them, when they've been playing for the house. It isn't only +that Rand-Brown can't tackle, and Barry can. Barry takes his passes +much better, and doesn't lose his head when he's pressed." + +"Just what I thought," said Trevor. "Then you'd go on playing him for +the first?" + +"Rather. He'll get better every game, you'll see, as he gets more used +to playing in the first three-quarter line. And he's as keen as +anything on getting into the team. Practises taking passes and that +sort of thing every day." + +"Well, he'll get his colours if we lick Ripton." + +"We ought to lick them. They've lost one of their forwards, Clifford, a +red-haired chap, who was good out of touch. I don't know if you +remember him." + +"I suppose I ought to go and see Allardyce about these colours, now. +Good-bye." + +There was running and passing on the Monday for every one in the three +teams. Trevor and Clowes met Mr Seymour as they were returning. Mr +Seymour was the football master at Wrykyn. + +"I see you've given Barry his second, Trevor." + +"Yes, sir." + +"I think you're wise to play him for the first. He knows the game, +which is the great thing, and he will improve with practice," said Mr +Seymour, thus corroborating Milton's words of the previous Saturday. + +"I'm glad Seymour thinks Barry good," said Trevor, as they walked on. +"I shall go on playing him now." + +"Found out who wrote that letter yet?" + +Trevor laughed. + +"Not yet," he said. + +"Probably Rand-Brown," suggested Clowes. "He's the man who would gain +most by Barry's not playing. I hear he had a row with Mill just before +his study was ragged." + +"Everybody in Seymour's has had rows with Mill some time or other," +said Trevor. + +Clowes stopped at the door of the junior day-room to find his fag. +Trevor went on upstairs. In the passage he met Ruthven. + +Ruthven seemed excited. + +"I say. Trevor," he exclaimed, "have you seen your study?" + +"Why, what's the matter with it?" + +"You'd better go and look." + + + + +VII + +"WITH THE COMPLIMENTS OF THE LEAGUE" + + +Trevor went and looked. + +It was rather an interesting sight. An earthquake or a cyclone might +have made it a little more picturesque, but not much more. The general +effect was not unlike that of an American saloon, after a visit from +Mrs Carrie Nation (with hatchet). As in the case of Mill's study, the +only thing that did not seem to have suffered any great damage was the +table. Everything else looked rather off colour. The mantelpiece had +been swept as bare as a bone, and its contents littered the floor. +Trevor dived among the debris and retrieved the latest addition to his +art gallery, the photograph of this year's first fifteen. It was a +wreck. The glass was broken and the photograph itself slashed with a +knife till most of the faces were unrecognisable. He picked up another +treasure, last year's first eleven. Smashed glass again. Faces cut +about with knife as before. His collection of snapshots was torn into a +thousand fragments, though, as Mr Jerome said of the papier-mache +trout, there may only have been nine hundred. He did not count +them. His bookshelf was empty. The books had gone to swell the +contents of the floor. There was a Shakespeare with its cover off. +Pages twenty-two to thirty-one of _Vice Versa_ had parted from the +parent establishment, and were lying by themselves near the door. _The +Rogues' March_ lay just beyond them, and the look of the cover +suggested that somebody had either been biting it or jumping on it with +heavy boots. + +There was other damage. Over the mantelpiece in happier days had hung a +dozen sea gulls' eggs, threaded on a string. The string was still +there, as good as new, but of the eggs nothing was to be seen, save a +fine parti-coloured powder--on the floor, like everything else in the +study. And a good deal of ink had been upset in one place and another. + +Trevor had been staring at the ruins for some time, when he looked up +to see Clowes standing in the doorway. + +"Hullo," said Clowes, "been tidying up?" + +Trevor made a few hasty comments on the situation. Clowes listened +approvingly. + +"Don't you think," he went on, eyeing the study with a critical air, +"that you've got too many things on the floor, and too few anywhere +else? And I should move some of those books on to the shelf, if I were +you." + +Trevor breathed very hard. + +"I should like to find the chap who did this," he said softly. + +Clowes advanced into the room and proceeded to pick up various +misplaced articles of furniture in a helpful way. + +"I thought so," he said presently, "come and look here." + +Tied to a chair, exactly as it had been in the case of Mill, was a neat +white card, and on it were the words, _"With the Compliments of the +League"._ + +"What are you going to do about this?" asked Clowes. "Come into my room +and talk it over." + +"I'll tidy this place up first," said Trevor. He felt that the work +would be a relief. "I don't want people to see this. It mustn't get +about. I'm not going to have my study turned into a sort of side-show, +like Mill's. You go and change. I shan't be long." + +"I will never desert Mr Micawber," said Clowes. "Friend, my place is by +your side. Shut the door and let's get to work." + +Ten minutes later the room had resumed a more or less--though +principally less--normal appearance. The books and chairs were back in +their places. The ink was sopped up. The broken photographs were +stacked in a neat pile in one corner, with a rug over them. The +mantelpiece was still empty, but, as Clowes pointed out, it now merely +looked as if Trevor had been pawning some of his household gods. There +was no sign that a devastating secret society had raged through the +study. + +Then they adjourned to Clowes' study, where Trevor sank into Clowes' +second-best chair--Clowes, by an adroit movement, having appropriated +the best one--with a sigh of enjoyment. Running and passing, followed +by the toil of furniture-shifting, had made him feel quite tired. + +"It doesn't look so bad now," he said, thinking of the room they had +left. "By the way, what did you do with that card?" + +"Here it is. Want it?" + +"You can keep it. I don't want it." + +"Thanks. If this sort of things goes on, I shall get quite a nice +collection of these cards. Start an album some day." + +"You know," said Trevor, "this is getting serious." + +"It always does get serious when anything bad happens to one's self. It +always strikes one as rather funny when things happen to other people. +When Mill's study was wrecked, I bet you regarded it as an amusing and +original 'turn'. What do you think of the present effort?" + +"Who on earth can have done it?" + +"The Pres--" + +"Oh, dry up. Of course it was. But who the blazes is he?" + +"Nay, children, you have me there," quoted Clowes. "I'll tell you one +thing, though. You remember what I said about it's probably being +Rand-Brown. He can't have done this, that's certain, because he was +out in the fields the whole time. Though I don't see who else could +have anything to gain by Barry not getting his colours." + +"There's no reason to suspect him at all, as far as I can see. I don't +know much about him, bar the fact that he can't play footer for nuts, +but I've never heard anything against him. Have you?" + +"I scarcely know him myself. He isn't liked in Seymour's, I believe." + +"Well, anyhow, this can't be his work." + +"That's what I said." + +"For all we know, the League may have got their knife into Barry for +some reason. You said they used to get their knife into fellows in that +way. Anyhow, I mean to find out who ragged my room." + +"It wouldn't be a bad idea," said Clowes. + + * * * * * + +O'Hara came round to Donaldson's before morning school next day to tell +Trevor that he had not yet succeeded in finding the lost bat. He found +Trevor and Clowes in the former's den, trying to put a few finishing +touches to the same. + +"Hullo, an' what's up with your study?" he inquired. He was quick at +noticing things. Trevor looked annoyed. Clowes asked the visitor if he +did not think the study presented a neat and gentlemanly appearance. + +"Where are all your photographs, Trevor?" persisted the descendant of +Irish kings. + +"It's no good trying to conceal anything from the bhoy," said Clowes. +"Sit down, O'Hara--mind that chair; it's rather wobbly--and I will tell +ye the story." + +"Can you keep a thing dark?" inquired Trevor. + +O'Hara protested that tombs were not in it. + +"Well, then, do you remember what happened to Mill's study? That's +what's been going on here." + +O'Hara nearly fell off his chair with surprise. That some +philanthropist should rag Mill's study was only to be expected. Mill +was one of the worst. A worm without a saving grace. But Trevor! +Captain of football! In the first eleven! The thing was unthinkable. + +"But who--?" he began. + +"That's just what I want to know," said Trevor, shortly. He did not +enjoy discussing the affair. + +"How long have you been at Wrykyn, O'Hara?" said Clowes. + +O'Hara made a rapid calculation. His fingers twiddled in the air as he +worked out the problem. + +"Six years," he said at last, leaning back exhausted with brain work. + +"Then you must remember the League?" + +"Remember the League? Rather." + +"Well, it's been revived." + +O'Hara whistled. + +"This'll liven the old place up," he said. "I've often thought of +reviving it meself. An' so has Moriarty. If it's anything like the Old +League, there's going to be a sort of Donnybrook before it's done with. +I wonder who's running it this time." + +"We should like to know that. If you find out, you might tell us." + +"I will." + +"And don't tell anybody else," said Trevor. "This business has got to +be kept quiet. Keep it dark about my study having been ragged." + +"I won't tell a soul." + +"Not even Moriarty." + +"Oh, hang it, man," put in Clowes, "you don't want to kill the poor +bhoy, surely? You must let him tell one person." + +"All right," said Trevor, "you can tell Moriarty. But nobody else, +mind." + +O'Hara promised that Moriarty should receive the news exclusively. + +"But why did the League go for ye?" + +"They happen to be down on me. It doesn't matter why. They are." + +"I see," said O'Hara. "Oh," he added, "about that bat. The search is +being 'vigorously prosecuted'--that's a newspaper quotation--" + +"Times?" inquired Clowes. + +"_Wrykyn Patriot_," said O'Hara, pulling out a bundle of letters. +He inspected each envelope in turn, and from the fifth extracted a +newspaper cutting. + +"Read that," he said. + +It was from the local paper, and ran as follows:-- + +"_Hooligan Outrage_--A painful sensation has been caused in the +town by a deplorable ebullition of local Hooliganism, which has +resulted in the wanton disfigurement of the splendid statue of Sir +Eustace Briggs which stands in the New Recreation Grounds. Our readers +will recollect that the statue was erected to commemorate the return of +Sir Eustace as member for the borough of Wrykyn, by an overwhelming +majority, at the last election. Last Tuesday some youths of the town, +passing through the Recreation Grounds early in the morning, noticed +that the face and body of the statue were completely covered with +leaves and some black substance, which on examination proved to be tar. +They speedily lodged information at the police station. Everything +seems to point to party spite as the motive for the outrage. In view of +the forth-coming election, such an act is highly significant, and will +serve sufficiently to indicate the tactics employed by our opponents. +The search for the perpetrator (or perpetrators) of the dastardly act +is being vigorously prosecuted, and we learn with satisfaction that the +police have already several clues." + +"Clues!" said Clowes, handing back the paper, "that means _the +bat_. That gas about 'our opponents' is all a blind to put you off +your guard. You wait. There'll be more painful sensations before you've +finished with this business." + +"They can't have found the bat, or why did they not say so?" observed +O'Hara. + +"Guile," said Clowes, "pure guile. If I were you, I should escape while +I could. Try Callao. There's no extradition there. + + 'On no petition + Is extradition + Allowed in Callao.' + +Either of you chaps coming over to school?" + + + + +VIII + +O'HARA ON THE TRACK + + +Tuesday mornings at Wrykyn were devoted--up to the quarter to eleven +interval--to the study of mathematics. That is to say, instead of going +to their form-rooms, the various forms visited the out-of-the-way nooks +and dens at the top of the buildings where the mathematical masters +were wont to lurk, and spent a pleasant two hours there playing round +games or reading fiction under the desk. Mathematics being one of the +few branches of school learning which are of any use in after life, +nobody ever dreamed of doing any work in that direction, least of all +O'Hara. It was a theory of O'Hara's that he came to school to enjoy +himself. To have done any work during a mathematics lesson would have +struck him as a positive waste of time, especially as he was in Mr +Banks' class. Mr Banks was a master who simply cried out to be ragged. +Everything he did and said seemed to invite the members of his class to +amuse themselves, and they amused themselves accordingly. One of the +advantages of being under him was that it was possible to predict to a +nicety the moment when one would be sent out of the room. This was +found very convenient. + +O'Hara's ally, Moriarty, was accustomed to take his mathematics with Mr +Morgan, whose room was directly opposite Mr Banks'. With Mr Morgan it +was not quite so easy to date one's expulsion from the room under +ordinary circumstances, and in the normal wear and tear of the +morning's work, but there was one particular action which could always +be relied upon to produce the desired result. + +In one corner of the room stood a gigantic globe. The problem--how did +it get into the room?--was one that had exercised the minds of many +generations of Wrykinians. It was much too big to have come through the +door. Some thought that the block had been built round it, others that +it had been placed in the room in infancy, and had since grown. To +refer the question to Mr Morgan would, in six cases out of ten, mean +instant departure from the room. But to make the event certain, it was +necessary to grasp the globe firmly and spin it round on its axis. That +always proved successful. Mr Morgan would dash down from his dais, +address the offender in spirited terms, and give him his marching +orders at once and without further trouble. + +Moriarty had arranged with O'Hara to set the globe rolling at ten sharp +on this particular morning. O'Hara would then so arrange matters with +Mr Banks that they could meet in the passage at that hour, when O'Hara +wished to impart to his friend his information concerning the League. + +O'Hara promised to be at the trysting-place at the hour mentioned. + +He did not think there would be any difficulty about it. The news that +the League had been revived meant that there would be trouble in the +very near future, and the prospect of trouble was meat and drink to the +Irishman in O'Hara. Consequently he felt in particularly good form for +mathematics (as he interpreted the word). He thought that he would have +no difficulty whatever in keeping Mr Banks bright and amused. The first +step had to be to arouse in him an interest in life, to bring him into +a frame of mind which would induce him to look severely rather than +leniently on the next offender. This was effected as follows:-- + +It was Mr Banks' practice to set his class sums to work out, and, after +some three-quarters of an hour had elapsed, to pass round the form what +he called "solutions". These were large sheets of paper, on which he +had worked out each sum in his neat handwriting to a happy ending. When +the head of the form, to whom they were passed first, had finished with +them, he would make a slight tear in one corner, and, having done so, +hand them on to his neighbour. The neighbour, before giving them to +_his_ neighbour, would also tear them slightly. In time they would +return to their patentee and proprietor, and it was then that things +became exciting. + +"Who tore these solutions like this?" asked Mr Banks, in the repressed +voice of one who is determined that he _will_ be calm. + +No answer. The tattered solutions waved in the air. + +He turned to Harringay, the head of the form. + +"Harringay, did you tear these solutions like this?" + +Indignant negative from Harringay. What he had done had been to make +the small tear in the top left-hand corner. If Mr Banks had asked, "Did +you make this small tear in the top left-hand corner of these +solutions?" Harringay would have scorned to deny the impeachment. But +to claim the credit for the whole work would, he felt, be an act of +flat dishonesty, and an injustice to his gifted _collaborateurs._ + +"No, sir," said Harringay. + +"Browne!" + +"Yes, sir?" + +"Did you tear these solutions in this manner?" + +"No, sir." + +And so on through the form. + +Then Harringay rose after the manner of the debater who is conscious +that he is going to say the popular thing. + +"Sir--" he began. + +"Sit down, Harringay." + +Harringay gracefully waved aside the absurd command. + +"Sir," he said, "I think I am expressing the general consensus of +opinion among my--ahem--fellow-students, when I say that this class +sincerely regrets the unfortunate state the solutions have managed to +get themselves into." + +"Hear, hear!" from a back bench. + +"It is with--" + +"Sit _down_, Harringay." + +"It is with heartfelt--" + +"Harringay, if you do not sit down--" + +"As your ludship pleases." This _sotto voce_. + +And Harringay resumed his seat amidst applause. O'Hara got up. + +"As me frind who has just sat down was about to observe--" + +"Sit down, O'Hara. The whole form will remain after the class." + +"--the unfortunate state the solutions have managed to get thimsilves +into is sincerely regretted by this class. Sir, I think I am ixprissing +the general consensus of opinion among my fellow-students whin I say +that it is with heart-felt sorrow--" + +"O'Hara!" + +"Yes, sir?" + +"Leave the room instantly." + +"Yes, sir." + +From the tower across the gravel came the melodious sound of chimes. +The college clock was beginning to strike ten. He had scarcely got into +the passage, and closed the door after him, when a roar as of a +bereaved spirit rang through the room opposite, followed by a string of +words, the only intelligible one being the noun-substantive "globe", +and the next moment the door opened and Moriarty came out. The last +stroke of ten was just booming from the clock. + +There was a large cupboard in the passage, the top of which made a very +comfortable seat. They climbed on to this, and began to talk business. + +"An' what was it ye wanted to tell me?" inquired Moriarty. + +O'Hara related what he had learned from Trevor that morning. + +"An' do ye know," said Moriarty, when he had finished, "I half +suspected, when I heard that Mill's study had been ragged, that it +might be the League that had done it. If ye remember, it was what they +enjoyed doing, breaking up a man's happy home. They did it frequently." + +"But I can't understand them doing it to Trevor at all." + +"They'll do it to anybody they choose till they're caught at it." + +"If they are caught, there'll be a row." + +"We must catch 'em," said Moriarty. Like O'Hara, he revelled in the +prospect of a disturbance. O'Hara and he were going up to Aldershot at +the end of the term, to try and bring back the light and middle-weight +medals respectively. Moriarty had won the light-weight in the previous +year, but, by reason of putting on a stone since the competition, was +now no longer eligible for that class. O'Hara had not been up before, +but the Wrykyn instructor, a good judge of pugilistic form, was of +opinion that he ought to stand an excellent chance. As the prize-fighter +in _Rodney Stone_ says, "When you get a good Irishman, you can't +better 'em, but they're dreadful 'asty." O'Hara was attending the +gymnasium every night, in order to learn to curb his "dreadful +'astiness", and acquire skill in its place. + +"I wonder if Trevor would be any good in a row," said Moriarty. + +"He can't box," said O'Hara, "but he'd go on till he was killed +entirely. I say, I'm getting rather tired of sitting here, aren't you? +Let's go to the other end of the passage and have some cricket." + +So, having unearthed a piece of wood from the debris at the top of the +cupboard, and rolled a handkerchief into a ball, they adjourned. + +Recalling the stirring events of six years back, when the League had +first been started, O'Hara remembered that the members of that +enterprising society had been wont to hold meetings in a secluded spot, +where it was unlikely that they would be disturbed. It seemed to him +that the first thing he ought to do, if he wanted to make their nearer +acquaintance now, was to find their present rendezvous. They must have +one. They would never run the risk involved in holding mass-meetings in +one another's studies. On the last occasion, it had been an old quarry +away out on the downs. This had been proved by the not-to-be-shaken +testimony of three school-house fags, who had wandered out one +half-holiday with the unconcealed intention of finding the League's +place of meeting. Unfortunately for them, they _had_ found it. +They were going down the path that led to the quarry before-mentioned, +when they were unexpectedly seized, blindfolded, and carried off. An +impromptu court-martial was held--in whispers--and the three explorers +forthwith received the most spirited "touching-up" they had ever +experienced. Afterwards they were released, and returned to their house +with their zeal for detection quite quenched. The episode had created a +good deal of excitement in the school at the time. + +On three successive afternoons, O'Hara and Moriarty scoured the downs, +and on each occasion they drew blank. On the fourth day, just before +lock-up, O'Hara, who had been to tea with Gregson, of Day's, was +going over to the gymnasium to keep a pugilistic appointment with +Moriarty, when somebody ran swiftly past him in the direction of the +boarding-houses. It was almost dark, for the days were still short, +and he did not recognise the runner. But it puzzled him a little to +think where he had sprung from. O'Hara was walking quite close to the +wall of the College buildings, and the runner had passed between it and +him. And he had not heard his footsteps. Then he understood, and his +pulse quickened as he felt that he was on the track. Beneath the block +was a large sort of cellar-basement. It was used as a store-room for +chairs, and was never opened except when prize-day or some similar event +occurred, when the chairs were needed. It was supposed to be locked at +other times, but never was. The door was just by the spot where he was +standing. As he stood there, half-a-dozen other vague forms dashed past +him in a knot. One of them almost brushed against him. For a moment he +thought of stopping him, but decided not to. He could wait. + +On the following afternoon he slipped down into the basement soon after +school. It was as black as pitch in the cellar. He took up a position +near the door. + +It seemed hours before anything happened. He was, indeed, almost giving +up the thing as a bad job, when a ray of light cut through the +blackness in front of him, and somebody slipped through the door. The +next moment, a second form appeared dimly, and then the light was shut +off again. + +O'Hara could hear them groping their way past him. He waited no longer. +It is difficult to tell where sound comes from in the dark. He plunged +forward at a venture. His hand, swinging round in a semicircle, met +something which felt like a shoulder. He slipped his grasp down to the +arm, and clutched it with all the force at his disposal. + + + + +IX + +MAINLY ABOUT FERRETS + + +"Ow!" exclaimed the captive, with no uncertain voice. "Let go, you ass, +you're hurting." + +The voice was a treble voice. This surprised O'Hara. It looked very +much as if he had put up the wrong bird. From the dimensions of the arm +which he was holding, his prisoner seemed to be of tender years. + +"Let go, Harvey, you idiot. I shall kick." + +Before the threat could be put into execution, O'Hara, who had been +fumbling all this while in his pocket for a match, found one loose, and +struck a light. The features of the owner of the arm--he was still +holding it--were lit up for a moment. + +"Why, it's young Renford!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing down +here?" + +Renford, however, continued to pursue the topic of his arm, and the +effect that the vice-like grip of the Irishman had had upon it. + +"You've nearly broken it," he said, complainingly. + +"I'm sorry. I mistook you for somebody else. Who's that with you?" + +"It's me," said an ungrammatical voice. + +"Who's me?" + +"Harvey." + +At this point a soft yellow light lit up the more immediate +neighbourhood. Harvey had brought a bicycle lamp into action. + +"That's more like it," said Renford. "Look here, O'Hara, you won't +split, will you?" + +"I'm not an informer by profession, thanks," said O'Hara. + +"Oh, I know it's all right, really, but you can't be too careful, +because one isn't allowed down here, and there'd be a beastly row if it +got out about our being down here." + +"And _they_ would be cobbed," put in Harvey. + +"Who are they?" asked O'Hara. + +"Ferrets. Like to have a look at them?" + +"_Ferrets!_" + +"Yes. Harvey brought back a couple at the beginning of term. Ripping +little beasts. We couldn't keep them in the house, as they'd have got +dropped on in a second, so we had to think of somewhere else, and +thought why not keep them down here?" + +"Why, indeed?" said O'Hara. "Do ye find they like it?" + +"Oh, _they_ don't mind," said Harvey. "We feed 'em twice a day. +Once before breakfast--we take it in turns to get up early--and once +directly after school. And on half-holidays and Sundays we take them +out on to the downs." + +"What for?" + +"Why, rabbits, of course. Renford brought back a saloon-pistol with +him. We keep it locked up in a box--don't tell any one." + +"And what do ye do with the rabbits?" + +"We pot at them as they come out of the holes." + +"Yes, but when ye hit 'em?" + +"Oh," said Renford, with some reluctance, "we haven't exactly hit any +yet." + +"We've got jolly near, though, lots of times," said Harvey. "Last +Saturday I swear I wasn't more than a quarter of an inch off one of +them. If it had been a decent-sized rabbit, I should have plugged it +middle stump; only it was a small one, so I missed. But come and see +them. We keep 'em right at the other end of the place, in case anybody +comes in." + +"Have you ever seen anybody down here?" asked O'Hara. + +"Once," said Renford. "Half-a-dozen chaps came down here once while we +were feeding the ferrets. We waited till they'd got well in, then we +nipped out quietly. They didn't see us." + +"Did you see who they were?" + +"No. It was too dark. Here they are. Rummy old crib this, isn't it? +Look out for your shins on the chairs. Switch on the light, Harvey. +There, aren't they rippers? Quite tame, too. They know us quite well. +They know they're going to be fed, too. Hullo, Sir Nigel! This is Sir +Nigel. Out of the 'White Company', you know. Don't let him nip your +fingers. This other one's Sherlock Holmes." + +"Cats-s-s--s!!" said O'Hara. He had a sort of idea that that was the +right thing to say to any animal that could chase and bite. + +Renford was delighted to be able to show his ferrets off to so +distinguished a visitor. + +"What were you down here about?" inquired Harvey, when the little +animals had had their meal, and had retired once more into private +life. + +O'Hara had expected this question, but he did not quite know what +answer to give. Perhaps, on the whole, he thought, it would be best to +tell them the real reason. If he refused to explain, their curiosity +would be roused, which would be fatal. And to give any reason except +the true one called for a display of impromptu invention of which he +was not capable. Besides, they would not be likely to give away his +secret while he held this one of theirs connected with the ferrets. He +explained the situation briefly, and swore them to silence on the +subject. + +Renford's comment was brief. + +"By Jove!" he observed. + +Harvey went more deeply into the question. + +"What makes you think they meet down here?" he asked. + +"I saw some fellows cutting out of here last night. And you say ye've +seen them here, too. I don't see what object they could have down here +if they weren't the League holding a meeting. I don't see what else a +chap would be after." + +"He might be keeping ferrets," hazarded Renford. + +"The whole school doesn't keep ferrets," said O'Hara. "You're unique in +that way. No, it must be the League, an' I mean to wait here till they +come." + +"Not all night?" asked Harvey. He had a great respect for O'Hara, whose +reputation in the school for out-of-the-way doings was considerable. In +the bright lexicon of O'Hara he believed there to be no such word as +"impossible." + +"No," said O'Hara, "but till lock-up. You two had better cut now." + +"Yes, I think we'd better," said Harvey. + +"And don't ye breathe a word about this to a soul"--a warning which +extracted fervent promises of silence from both youths. + +"This," said Harvey, as they emerged on to the gravel, "is something +like. I'm jolly glad we're in it." + + + +"Rather. Do you think O'Hara will catch them?" + +"He must if he waits down there long enough. They're certain to come +again. Don't you wish you'd been here when the League was on before?" + +"I should think I did. Race you over to the shop. I want to get +something before it shuts." + +"Right ho!" And they disappeared. + +O'Hara waited where he was till six struck from the clock-tower, +followed by the sound of the bell as it rang for lock-up. Then he +picked his way carefully through the groves of chairs, barking his +shins now and then on their out-turned legs, and, pushing open the +door, went out into the open air. It felt very fresh and pleasant after +the brand of atmosphere supplied in the vault. He then ran over to the +gymnasium to meet Moriarty, feeling a little disgusted at the lack of +success that had attended his detective efforts up to the present. So +far he had nothing to show for his trouble except a good deal of dust +on his clothes, and a dirty collar, but he was full of determination. +He could play a waiting game. + +It was a pity, as it happened, that O'Hara left the vault when he did. +Five minutes after he had gone, six shadowy forms made their way +silently and in single file through the doorway of the vault, which +they closed carefully behind them. The fact that it was after lock-up +was of small consequence. A good deal of latitude in that way was +allowed at Wrykyn. It was the custom to go out, after the bell had +sounded, to visit the gymnasium. In the winter and Easter terms, the +gymnasium became a sort of social club. People went there with a very +small intention of doing gymnastics. They went to lounge about, talking +to cronies, in front of the two huge stoves which warmed the place. +Occasionally, as a concession to the look of the thing, they would do +an easy exercise or two on the horse or parallels, but, for the most +part, they preferred the _role_ of spectator. There was plenty to +see. In one corner O'Hara and Moriarty would be sparring their nightly +six rounds (in two batches of three rounds each). In another, Drummond, +who was going up to Aldershot as a feather-weight, would be putting in +a little practice with the instructor. On the apparatus, the members of +the gymnastic six, including the two experts who were to carry the +school colours to Aldershot in the spring, would be performing their +usual marvels. It was worth dropping into the gymnasium of an evening. +In no other place in the school were so many sights to be seen. + +When you were surfeited with sightseeing, you went off to your house. +And this was where the peculiar beauty of the gymnasium system came in. +You went up to any master who happened to be there--there was always +one at least--and observed in suave accents, "Please, sir, can I have a +paper?" Whereupon, he, taking a scrap of paper, would write upon it, +"J. O. Jones (or A. B. Smith or C. D. Robinson) left gymnasium at +such-and-such a time". And, by presenting this to the menial who +opened the door to you at your house, you went in rejoicing, and all +was peace. + +Now, there was no mention on the paper of the hour at which you came to +the gymnasium--only of the hour at which you left. Consequently, certain +lawless spirits would range the neighbourhood after lock-up, and, by +putting in a quarter of an hour at the gymnasium before returning to +their houses, escape comment. To this class belonged the shadowy forms +previously mentioned. + +O'Hara had forgotten this custom, with the result that he was not at +the vault when they arrived. Moriarty, to whom he confided between the +rounds the substance of his evening's discoveries, reminded him of it. +"It's no good watching before lock-up," he said. "After six is the time +they'll come, if they come at all." + +"Bedad, ye're right," said O'Hara. "One of these nights we'll take a +night off from boxing, and go and watch." + +"Right," said Moriarty. "Are ye ready to go on?" + +"Yes. I'm going to practise that left swing at the body this round. The +one Fitzsimmons does." And they "put 'em up" once more. + + + + +X + +BEING A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS + + +On the evening following O'Hara's adventure in the vaults, Barry and +M'Todd were in their study, getting out the tea-things. Most Wrykinians +brewed in the winter and Easter terms, when the days were short and +lock-up early. In the summer term there were other things to do--nets, +which lasted till a quarter to seven (when lock-up was), and the +baths--and brewing practically ceased. But just now it was at its height, +and every evening, at a quarter past five, there might be heard in the +houses the sizzling of the succulent sausage and other rare delicacies. +As a rule, one or two studies would club together to brew, instead of +preparing solitary banquets. This was found both more convivial and +more economical. At Seymour's, studies numbers five, six, and seven had +always combined from time immemorial, and Barry, on obtaining study +six, had carried on the tradition. In study five were Drummond and his +friend De Bertini. In study seven, which was a smaller room and only +capable of holding one person with any comfort, one James Rupert +Leather-Twigg (that was his singular name, as Mr Gilbert has it) had +taken up his abode. The name of Leather-Twigg having proved, at an +early date in his career, too great a mouthful for Wrykyn, he was known +to his friends and acquaintances by the euphonious title of +Shoeblossom. The charm about the genial Shoeblossom was that you could +never tell what he was going to do next. All that you could rely on +with any certainty was that it would be something which would have been +better left undone. + +It was just five o'clock when Barry and M'Todd started to get things +ready. They were not high enough up in the school to have fags, so that +they had to do this for themselves. + +Barry was still in football clothes. He had been out running and +passing with the first fifteen. M'Todd, whose idea of exercise was +winding up a watch, had been spending his time since school ceased in +the study with a book. He was in his ordinary clothes. It was therefore +fortunate that, when he upset the kettle (he nearly always did at some +period of the evening's business), the contents spread themselves over +Barry, and not over himself. Football clothes will stand any amount of +water, whereas M'Todd's "Youth's winter suiting at forty-two shillings +and sixpence" might have been injured. Barry, however, did not look +upon the episode in this philosophical light. He spoke to him +eloquently for a while, and then sent him downstairs to fetch more +water. While he was away, Drummond and De Bertini came in. + +"Hullo," said Drummond, "tea ready?" + +"Not much," replied Barry, bitterly, "not likely to be, either, at this +rate. We'd just got the kettle going when that ass M'Todd plunged +against the table and upset the lot over my bags. Lucky the beastly +stuff wasn't boiling. I'm soaked." + +"While we wait--the sausages--Yes?--a good idea--M'Todd, he is +downstairs--but to wait? No, no. Let us. Shall we? Is it not so? Yes?" +observed Bertie, lucidly. + +"Now construe," said Barry, looking at the linguist with a bewildered +expression. It was a source of no little inconvenience to his friends +that De Bertini was so very fixed in his determination to speak +English. He was a trier all the way, was De Bertini. You rarely caught +him helping out his remarks with the language of his native land. It +was English or nothing with him. To most of his circle it might as well +have been Zulu. + +Drummond, either through natural genius or because he spent more time +with him, was generally able to act as interpreter. Occasionally there +would come a linguistic effort by which even he freely confessed +himself baffled, and then they would pass on unsatisfied. But, as a +rule, he was equal to the emergency. He was so now. + +"What Bertie means," he explained, "is that it's no good us waiting for +M'Todd to come back. He never could fill a kettle in less than ten +minutes, and even then he's certain to spill it coming upstairs and +have to go back again. Let's get on with the sausages." + +The pan had just been placed on the fire when M'Todd returned with the +water. He tripped over the mat as he entered, and spilt about half a +pint into one of his football boots, which stood inside the door, but +the accident was comparatively trivial, and excited no remark. + +"I wonder where that slacker Shoeblossom has got to," said Barry. "He +never turns up in time to do any work. He seems to regard himself as a +beastly guest. I wish we could finish the sausages before he comes. It +would be a sell for him." + +"Not much chance of that," said Drummond, who was kneeling before the +fire and keeping an excited eye on the spluttering pan, "_you_ +see. He'll come just as we've finished cooking them. I believe the man +waits outside with his ear to the keyhole. Hullo! Stand by with the +plate. They'll be done in half a jiffy." + +Just as the last sausage was deposited in safety on the plate, the door +opened, and Shoeblossom, looking as if he had not brushed his hair +since early childhood, sidled in with an attempt at an easy nonchalance +which was rendered quite impossible by the hopeless state of his +conscience. + +"Ah," he said, "brewing, I see. Can I be of any use?" + +"We've finished years ago," said Barry. + +"Ages ago," said M'Todd. + +A look of intense alarm appeared on Shoeblossom's classical features. + +"You've not finished, really?" + +"We've finished cooking everything," said Drummond. "We haven't begun +tea yet. Now, are you happy?" + +Shoeblossom was. So happy that he felt he must do something to +celebrate the occasion. He felt like a successful general. There must +be _something_ he could do to show that he regarded the situation +with approval. He looked round the study. Ha! Happy thought--the +frying-pan. That useful culinary instrument was lying in the fender, +still bearing its cargo of fat, and beside it--a sight to stir the +blood and make the heart beat faster--were the sausages, piled up on +their plate. + +Shoeblossom stooped. He seized the frying-pan. He gave it one twirl in +the air. Then, before any one could stop him, he had turned it upside +down over the fire. As has been already remarked, you could never +predict exactly what James Rupert Leather-Twigg would be up to next. + +When anything goes out of the frying-pan into the fire, it is usually +productive of interesting by-products. The maxim applies to fat. The +fat was in the fire with a vengeance. A great sheet of flame rushed out +and up. Shoeblossom leaped back with a readiness highly creditable in +one who was not a professional acrobat. The covering of the mantelpiece +caught fire. The flames went roaring up the chimney. + +Drummond, cool while everything else was so hot, without a word moved +to the mantelpiece to beat out the fire with a football shirt. Bertie +was talking rapidly to himself in French. Nobody could understand what +he was saying, which was possibly fortunate. + +By the time Drummond had extinguished the mantelpiece, Barry had also +done good work by knocking the fire into the grate with the poker. +M'Todd, who had been standing up till now in the far corner of the +room, gaping vaguely at things in general, now came into action. +Probably it was force of habit that suggested to him that the time had +come to upset the kettle. At any rate, upset it he did--most of it over +the glowing, blazing mass in the grate, the rest over Barry. One of the +largest and most detestable smells the study had ever had to endure +instantly assailed their nostrils. The fire in the study was out now, +but in the chimney it still blazed merrily. + +"Go up on to the roof and heave water down," said Drummond, the +strategist. "You can get out from Milton's dormitory window. And take +care not to chuck it down the wrong chimney." + +Barry was starting for the door to carry out these excellent +instructions, when it flew open. + +"Pah! What have you boys been doing? What an abominable smell. Pah!" +said a muffled voice. It was Mr Seymour. Most of his face was concealed +in a large handkerchief, but by the look of his eyes, which appeared +above, he did not seem pleased. He took in the situation at a glance. +Fires in the house were not rarities. One facetious sportsman had once +made a rule of setting the senior day-room chimney on fire every term. +He had since left (by request), but fires still occurred. + +"Is the chimney on fire?" + +"Yes, sir," said Drummond. + +"Go and find Herbert, and tell him to take some water on to the roof +and throw it down." Herbert was the boot and knife cleaner at +Seymour's. + +Barry went. Soon afterwards a splash of water in the grate announced +that the intrepid Herbert was hard at it. Another followed, and +another. Then there was a pause. Mr Seymour thought he would look up to +see if the fire was out. He stooped and peered into the darkness, and, +even as he gazed, splash came the contents of the fourth pail, together +with some soot with which they had formed a travelling acquaintance on +the way down. Mr Seymour staggered back, grimy and dripping. There was +dead silence in the study. Shoeblossom's face might have been seen +working convulsively. + +The silence was broken by a hollow, sepulchral voice with a strong +Cockney accent. + +"Did yer see any water come down then, sir?" said the voice. + +Shoeblossom collapsed into a chair, and began to sob feebly. + + * * * * * + +"--disgraceful ... scandalous ... get _up_, Leather-Twigg ... not to +be trusted ... _babies_ ... three hundred lines, Leather-Twigg ... +abominable ... surprised ... ought to be ashamed of yourselves ... +_double_, Leather-Twigg ... not fit to have studies ... atrocious ...--" + +Such were the main heads of Mr Seymour's speech on the situation as he +dabbed desperately at the soot on his face with his handkerchief. +Shoeblossom stood and gurgled throughout. Not even the thought of six +hundred lines could quench that dauntless spirit. + +"Finally," perorated Mr Seymour, as he was leaving the room, "as you +are evidently not to be trusted with rooms of your own, I forbid you to +enter them till further notice. It is disgraceful that such a thing +should happen. Do you hear, Barry? And you, Drummond? You are not to +enter your studies again till I give you leave. Move your books down to +the senior day-room tonight." + +And Mr Seymour stalked off to clean himself. + +"Anyhow," said Shoeblossom, as his footsteps died away, "we saved the +sausages." + +It is this indomitable gift of looking on the bright side that makes us +Englishmen what we are. + + + + +XI + +THE HOUSE-MATCHES + + +It was something of a consolation to Barry and his friends--at any +rate, to Barry and Drummond--that directly after they had been evicted +from their study, the house-matches began. Except for the Ripton match, +the house-matches were the most important event of the Easter term. +Even the sports at the beginning of April were productive of less +excitement. There were twelve houses at Wrykyn, and they played on the +"knocking-out" system. To be beaten once meant that a house was no +longer eligible for the competition. It could play "friendlies" as much +as it liked, but, play it never so wisely, it could not lift the cup. +Thus it often happened that a weak house, by fluking a victory over a +strong rival, found itself, much to its surprise, in the semi-final, or +sometimes even in the final. This was rarer at football than at +cricket, for at football the better team generally wins. + +The favourites this year were Donaldson's, though some fancied +Seymour's. Donaldson's had Trevor, whose leadership was worth almost +more than his play. In no other house was training so rigid. You could +tell a Donaldson's man, if he was in his house-team, at a glance. If +you saw a man eating oatmeal biscuits in the shop, and eyeing wistfully +the while the stacks of buns and pastry, you could put him down as a +Donaldsonite without further evidence. The captains of the other houses +used to prescribe a certain amount of self-abnegation in the matter of +food, but Trevor left his men barely enough to support life--enough, +that is, of the things that are really worth eating. The consequence +was that Donaldson's would turn out for an important match all muscle +and bone, and on such occasions it was bad for those of their opponents +who had been taking life more easily. Besides Trevor they had Clowes, +and had had bad luck in not having Paget. Had Paget stopped, no other +house could have looked at them. But by his departure, the strength of +the team had become more nearly on a level with that of Seymour's. + +Some even thought that Seymour's were the stronger. Milton was as good +a forward as the school possessed. Besides him there were Barry and +Rand-Brown on the wings. Drummond was a useful half, and five of the +pack had either first or second fifteen colours. It was a team that +would take some beating. + +Trevor came to that conclusion early. "If we can beat Seymour's, we'll +lift the cup," he said to Clowes. + +"We'll have to do all we know," was Clowes' reply. + +They were watching Seymour's pile up an immense score against a scratch +team got up by one of the masters. The first round of the competition +was over. Donaldson's had beaten Templar's, Seymour's the School House. +Templar's were rather stronger than the School House, and Donaldson's +had beaten them by a rather larger score than that which Seymour's had +run up in their match. But neither Trevor nor Clowes was inclined to +draw any augury from this. Seymour's had taken things easily after +half-time; Donaldson's had kept going hard all through. + +"That makes Rand-Brown's fourth try," said Clowes, as the wing +three-quarter of the second fifteen raced round and scored in the +corner. + +"Yes. This is the sort of game he's all right in. The man who's marking +him is no good. Barry's scored twice, and both good tries, too." + +"Oh, there's no doubt which is the best man," said Clowes. "I only +mentioned that it was Rand-Brown's fourth as an item of interest." + +The game continued. Barry scored a third try. + +"We're drawn against Appleby's next round," said Trevor. "We can manage +them all right." + +"When is it?" + +"Next Thursday. Nomads' match on Saturday. Then Ripton, Saturday week." + +"Who've Seymour's drawn?" + +"Day's. It'll be a good game, too. Seymour's ought to win, but they'll +have to play their best. Day's have got some good men." + +"Fine scrum," said Clowes. "Yes. Quick in the open, too, which is +always good business. I wish they'd beat Seymour's." + +"Oh, we ought to be all right, whichever wins." + +Appleby's did not offer any very serious resistance to the Donaldson +attack. They were outplayed at every point of the game, and, before +half-time, Donaldson's had scored their thirty points. It was a rule in +all in-school matches--and a good rule, too--that, when one side led by +thirty points, the match stopped. This prevented those massacres which +do so much towards crushing all the football out of the members of the +beaten team; and it kept the winning team from getting slack, by urging +them on to score their thirty points before half-time. There were some +houses--notoriously slack--which would go for a couple of seasons +without ever playing the second half of a match. + +Having polished off the men of Appleby, the Donaldson team trooped off +to the other game to see how Seymour's were getting on with Day's. It +was evidently an exciting match. The first half had been played to the +accompaniment of much shouting from the ropes. Though coming so early +in the competition, it was really the semi-final, for whichever team +won would be almost certain to get into the final. The school had +turned up in large numbers to watch. + +"Seymour's looking tired of life," said Clowes. "That would seem as if +his fellows weren't doing well." + +"What's been happening here?" asked Trevor of an enthusiast in a +Seymour's house cap whose face was crimson with yelling. + +"One goal all," replied the enthusiast huskily. "Did you beat +Appleby's?" + +"Yes. Thirty points before half-time. Who's been doing the scoring +here?" + +"Milton got in for us. He barged through out of touch. We've been +pressing the whole time. Barry got over once, but he was held up. +Hullo, they're beginning again. Buck up, Sey-_mour's_." + +His voice cracking on the high note, he took an immense slab of vanilla +chocolate as a remedy for hoarseness. + +"Who scored for Day's?" asked Clowes. + +"Strachan. Rand-Brown let him through from their twenty-five. You never +saw anything so rotten as Rand-Brown. He doesn't take his passes, and +Strachan gets past him every time." + +"Is Strachan playing on the wing?" + +Strachan was the first fifteen full-back. + +"Yes. They've put young Bassett back instead of him. Sey-_mour's_. +Buck up, Seymour's. We-ell played! There, did you ever see anything +like it?" he broke off disgustedly. + +The Seymourite playing centre next to Rand-Brown had run through to the +back and passed out to his wing, as a good centre should. It was a +perfect pass, except that it came at his head instead of his chest. +Nobody with any pretensions to decent play should have missed it. +Rand-Brown, however, achieved that feat. The ball struck his hands +and bounded forward. The referee blew his whistle for a scrum, and a +certain try was lost. + +From the scrum the Seymour's forwards broke away to the goal-line, +where they were pulled up by Bassett. The next minute the defence had +been pierced, and Drummond was lying on the ball a yard across the +line. The enthusiast standing by Clowes expended the last relics of his +voice in commemorating the fact that his side had the lead. + +"Drummond'll be good next year," said Trevor. And he made a mental note +to tell Allardyce, who would succeed him in the command of the school +football, to keep an eye on the player in question. + +The triumph of the Seymourites was not long lived. Milton failed to +convert Drummond's try. From the drop-out from the twenty-five line +Barry got the ball, and punted into touch. The throw-out was not +straight, and a scrum was formed. The ball came out to the Day's +halves, and went across to Strachan. Rand-Brown hesitated, and then +made a futile spring at the first fifteen man's neck. Strachan handed +him off easily, and ran. The Seymour's full-back, who was a poor +player, failed to get across in time. Strachan ran round behind the +posts, the kick succeeded, and Day's now led by two points. + +After this the game continued in Day's half. Five minutes before time +was up, Drummond got the ball from a scrum nearly on the line, passed +it to Barry on the wing instead of opening up the game by passing to +his centres, and Barry slipped through in the corner. This put +Seymour's just one point ahead, and there they stayed till the whistle +blew for no-side. + +Milton walked over to the boarding-houses with Clowes and Trevor. He +was full of the match, particularly of the iniquity of Rand-Brown. "I +slanged him on the field," he said. "It's a thing I don't often do, but +what else _can_ you do when a man plays like that? He lost us +three certain tries." + +"When did you administer your rebuke?" inquired Clowes. + +"When he had let Strachan through that second time, in the second half. +I asked him why on earth he tried to play footer at all. I told him a +good kiss-in-the-ring club was about his form. It was rather cheap, but +I felt so frightfully sick about it. It's sickening to be let down like +that when you've been pressing the whole time, and ought to be scoring +every other minute." + +"What had he to say on the subject?" asked Clowes. + +"Oh, he gassed a bit until I told him I'd kick him if he said another +word. That shut him up." + +"You ought to have kicked him. You want all the kicking practice you +can get. I never saw anything feebler than that shot of yours after +Drummond's try." + +"I'd like to see _you_ take a kick like that. It was nearly on the +touch-line. Still, when we play you, we shan't need to convert any of +our tries. We'll get our thirty points without that. Perhaps you'd like +to scratch?" + +"As a matter of fact," said Clowes confidentially, "I am going to score +seven tries against you off my own bat. You'll be sorry you ever turned +out when we've finished with you." + + + + +XII + +NEWS OF THE GOLD BAT + + +Shoeblossom sat disconsolately on the table in the senior day-room. He +was not happy in exile. Brewing in the senior day-room was a mere +vulgar brawl, lacking all the refining influences of the study. You had +to fight for a place at the fire, and when you had got it 'twas not +always easy to keep it, and there was no privacy, and the fellows were +always bear-fighting, so that it was impossible to read a book quietly +for ten consecutive minutes without some ass heaving a cushion at you +or turning out the gas. Altogether Shoeblossom yearned for the peace of +his study, and wished earnestly that Mr Seymour would withdraw the +order of banishment. It was the not being able to read that he objected +to chiefly. In place of brewing, the ex-proprietors of studies five, +six, and seven now made a practice of going to the school shop. It was +more expensive and not nearly so comfortable--there is a romance about +a study brew which you can never get anywhere else--but it served, and +it was not on this score that he grumbled most. What he hated was +having to live in a bear-garden. For Shoeblossom was a man of moods. +Give him two or three congenial spirits to back him up, and he would +lead the revels with the _abandon_ of a Mr Bultitude (after his +return to his original form). But he liked to choose his accomplices, +and the gay sparks of the senior day-room did not appeal to him. They +were not intellectual enough. In his lucid intervals, he was accustomed +to be almost abnormally solemn and respectable. When not promoting some +unholy rag, Shoeblossom resembled an elderly gentleman of studious +habits. He liked to sit in a comfortable chair and read a book. It was +the impossibility of doing this in the senior day-room that led him to +try and think of some other haven where he might rest. Had it been +summer, he would have taken some literature out on to the cricket-field +or the downs, and put in a little steady reading there, with the aid of +a bag of cherries. But with the thermometer low, that was impossible. + +He felt very lonely and dismal. He was not a man with many friends. In +fact, Barry and the other three were almost the only members of the +house with whom he was on speaking-terms. And of these four he saw very +little. Drummond and Barry were always out of doors or over at the +gymnasium, and as for M'Todd and De Bertini, it was not worth while +talking to the one, and impossible to talk to the other. No wonder +Shoeblossom felt dull. Once Barry and Drummond had taken him over to +the gymnasium with them, but this had bored him worse than ever. They +had been hard at it all the time--for, unlike a good many of the +school, they went to the gymnasium for business, not to lounge--and he +had had to sit about watching them. And watching gymnastics was one of +the things he most loathed. Since then he had refused to go. + +That night matters came to a head. Just as he had settled down to read, +somebody, in flinging a cushion across the room, brought down the gas +apparatus with a run, and before light was once more restored it was +tea-time. After that there was preparation, which lasted for two hours, +and by the time he had to go to bed he had not been able to read a +single page of the enthralling work with which he was at present +occupied. + +He had just got into bed when he was struck with a brilliant idea. Why +waste the precious hours in sleep? What was that saying of somebody's, +"Five hours for a wise man, six for somebody else--he forgot whom--eight +for a fool, nine for an idiot," or words to that effect? Five hours +sleep would mean that he need not go to bed till half past two. In the +meanwhile he could be finding out exactly what the hero _did_ do when +he found out (to his horror) that it was his cousin Jasper who had +really killed the old gentleman in the wood. The only question was--how +was he to do his reading? Prefects were allowed to work on after lights +out in their dormitories by the aid of a candle, but to the ordinary +mortal this was forbidden. + +Then he was struck with another brilliant idea. It is a curious thing +about ideas. You do not get one for over a month, and then there comes +a rush of them, all brilliant. Why, he thought, should he not go and +read in his study with a dark lantern? He had a dark lantern. It was +one of the things he had found lying about at home on the last day of +the holidays, and had brought with him to school. It was his custom to +go about the house just before the holidays ended, snapping up +unconsidered trifles, which might or might not come in useful. This +term he had brought back a curious metal vase (which looked Indian, but +which had probably been made in Birmingham the year before last), two +old coins (of no mortal use to anybody in the world, including +himself), and the dark lantern. It was reposing now in the cupboard in +his study nearest the window. + +He had brought his book up with him on coming to bed, on the chance +that he might have time to read a page or two if he woke up early. (He +had always been doubtful about that man Jasper. For one thing, he had +been seen pawning the old gentleman's watch on the afternoon of the +murder, which was a suspicious circumstance, and then he was not a nice +character at all, and just the sort of man who would be likely to murder +old gentlemen in woods.) He waited till Mr Seymour had paid his nightly +visit--he went the round of the dormitories at about eleven--and then he +chuckled gently. If Mill, the dormitory prefect, was awake, the chuckle +would make him speak, for Mill was of a suspicious nature, and believed +that it was only his unintermitted vigilance which prevented the +dormitory ragging all night. + +Mill _was_ awake. + +"Be quiet, there," he growled. "Shut up that noise." + +Shoeblossom felt that the time was not yet ripe for his departure. Half +an hour later he tried again. There was no rebuke. To make certain he +emitted a second chuckle, replete with sinister meaning. A slight snore +came from the direction of Mill's bed. Shoeblossom crept out of the +room, and hurried to his study. The door was not locked, for Mr Seymour +had relied on his commands being sufficient to keep the owner out of +it. He slipped in, found and lit the dark lantern, and settled down to +read. He read with feverish excitement. The thing was, you see, that +though Claud Trevelyan (that was the hero) knew jolly well that it was +Jasper who had done the murder, the police didn't, and, as he (Claud) +was too noble to tell them, he had himself been arrested on suspicion. +Shoeblossom was skimming through the pages with starting eyes, when +suddenly his attention was taken from his book by a sound. It was a +footstep. Somebody was coming down the passage, and under the door +filtered a thin stream of light. To snap the dark slide over the +lantern and dart to the door, so that if it opened he would be behind +it, was with him, as Mr Claud Trevelyan might have remarked, the work +of a moment. He heard the door of study number five flung open, and +then the footsteps passed on, and stopped opposite his own den. The +handle turned, and the light of a candle flashed into the room, to be +extinguished instantly as the draught of the moving door caught it. + +Shoeblossom heard his visitor utter an exclamation of annoyance, and +fumble in his pocket for matches. He recognised the voice. It was Mr +Seymour's. The fact was that Mr Seymour had had the same experience as +General Stanley in _The Pirates of Penzance_: + + The man who finds his conscience ache, + No peace at all enjoys; + And, as I lay in bed awake, + I thought I heard a noise. + +Whether Mr Seymour's conscience ached or not, cannot, of course, be +discovered. But he had certainly thought he heard a noise, and he had +come to investigate. + +The search for matches had so far proved fruitless. Shoeblossom stood +and quaked behind the door. The reek of hot tin from the dark lantern +grew worse momentarily. Mr Seymour sniffed several times, until +Shoeblossom thought that he must be discovered. Then, to his immense +relief, the master walked away. Shoeblossom's chance had come. Mr +Seymour had probably gone to get some matches to relight his candle. It +was far from likely that the episode was closed. He would be back again +presently. If Shoeblossom was going to escape, he must do it now, so he +waited till the footsteps had passed away, and then darted out in the +direction of his dormitory. + +As he was passing Milton's study, a white figure glided out of it. All +that he had ever read or heard of spectres rushed into Shoeblossom's +petrified brain. He wished he was safely in bed. He wished he had never +come out of it. He wished he had led a better and nobler life. He +wished he had never been born. + +The figure passed quite close to him as he stood glued against the +wall, and he saw it disappear into the dormitory opposite his own, of +which Rigby was prefect. He blushed hotly at the thought of the fright +he had been in. It was only somebody playing the same game as himself. + +He jumped into bed and lay down, having first plunged the lantern +bodily into his jug to extinguish it. Its indignant hiss had scarcely +died away when Mr Seymour appeared at the door. It had occurred to Mr +Seymour that he had smelt something very much out of the ordinary in +Shoeblossom's study, a smell uncommonly like that of hot tin. And a +suspicion dawned on him that Shoeblossom had been in there with a dark +lantern. He had come to the dormitory to confirm his suspicions. But a +glance showed him how unjust they had been. There was Shoeblossom fast +asleep. Mr Seymour therefore followed the excellent example of my Lord +Tomnoddy on a celebrated occasion, and went off to bed. + + * * * * * + +It was the custom for the captain of football at Wrykyn to select and +publish the team for the Ripton match a week before the day on which it +was to be played. On the evening after the Nomads' match, Trevor was +sitting in his study writing out the names, when there came a knock at +the door, and his fag entered with a letter. + +"This has just come, Trevor," he said. + +"All right. Put it down." + +The fag left the room. Trevor picked up the letter. The handwriting was +strange to him. The words had been printed. Then it flashed upon him +that he had received a letter once before addressed in the same +way--the letter from the League about Barry. Was this, too, from +that address? He opened it. + +It was. + +He read it, and gasped. The worst had happened. The gold bat was in the +hands of the enemy. + + + + +XIII + +VICTIM NUMBER THREE + + +"With reference to our last communication," ran the letter--the writer +evidently believed in the commercial style--"it may interest you to +know that the bat you lost by the statue on the night of the 26th of +January has come into our possession. _We observe that Barry is still +playing for the first fifteen._" + +"And will jolly well continue to," muttered Trevor, crumpling the paper +viciously into a ball. + +He went on writing the names for the Ripton match. The last name on the +list was Barry's. + +Then he sat back in his chair, and began to wrestle with this new +development. Barry must play. That was certain. All the bluff in the +world was not going to keep him from playing the best man at his disposal +in the Ripton match. He himself did not count. It was the school he had +to think of. This being so, what was likely to happen? Though nothing +was said on the point, he felt certain that if he persisted in ignoring +the League, that bat would find its way somehow--by devious routes, +possibly--to the headmaster or some one else in authority. And then +there would be questions--awkward questions--and things would begin +to come out. Then a fresh point struck him, which was, that whatever +might happen would affect, not himself, but O'Hara. This made it rather +more of a problem how to act. Personally, he was one of those dogged +characters who can put up with almost anything themselves. If this had +been his affair, he would have gone on his way without hesitating. +Evidently the writer of the letter was under the impression that he +had been the hero (or villain) of the statue escapade. + +If everything came out it did not require any great effort of prophecy +to predict what the result would be. O'Hara would go. Promptly. He +would receive his marching orders within ten minutes of the discovery +of what he had done. He would be expelled twice over, so to speak, once +for breaking out at night--one of the most heinous offences in the +school code--and once for tarring the statue. Anything that gave the +school a bad name in the town was a crime in the eyes of the powers, +and this was such a particularly flagrant case. Yes, there was no doubt +of that. O'Hara would take the first train home without waiting to pack +up. Trevor knew his people well, and he could imagine their feelings +when the prodigal strolled into their midst--an old Wrykinian _malgre +lui_. As the philosopher said of falling off a ladder, it is not the +falling that matters: it is the sudden stopping at the other end. It is +not the being expelled that is so peculiarly objectionable: it is the +sudden homecoming. With this gloomy vision before him, Trevor almost +wavered. But the thought that the selection of the team had nothing +whatever to do with his personal feelings strengthened him. He was +simply a machine, devised to select the fifteen best men in the school +to meet Ripton. In his official capacity of football captain he was not +supposed to have any feelings. However, he yielded in so far that he +went to Clowes to ask his opinion. + +Clowes, having heard everything and seen the letter, unhesitatingly +voted for the right course. If fifty mad Irishmen were to be expelled, +Barry must play against Ripton. He was the best man, and in he must go. + +"That's what I thought," said Trevor. "It's bad for O'Hara, though." + +Clowes remarked somewhat tritely that business was business. + +"Besides," he went on, "you're assuming that the thing this letter +hints at will really come off. I don't think it will. A man would have +to be such an awful blackguard to go as low as that. The least grain of +decency in him would stop him. I can imagine a man threatening to do it +as a piece of bluff--by the way, the letter doesn't actually say +anything of the sort, though I suppose it hints at it--but I can't +imagine anybody out of a melodrama doing it." + +"You can never tell," said Trevor. He felt that this was but an outside +chance. The forbearance of one's antagonist is but a poor thing to +trust to at the best of times. + +"Are you going to tell O'Hara?" asked Clowes. + +"I don't see the good. Would you?" + +"No. He can't do anything, and it would only give him a bad time. There +are pleasanter things, I should think, than going on from day to day not +knowing whether you're going to be sacked or not within the next twelve +hours. Don't tell him." + +"I won't. And Barry plays against Ripton." + +"Certainly. He's the best man." + +"I'm going over to Seymour's now," said Trevor, after a pause, "to see +Milton. We've drawn Seymour's in the next round of the house-matches. I +suppose you knew. I want to get it over before the Ripton match, for +several reasons. About half the fifteen are playing on one side or the +other, and it'll give them a good chance of getting fit. Running and +passing is all right, but a good, hard game's the thing for putting you +into form. And then I was thinking that, as the side that loses, +whichever it is--" + +"Seymour's, of course." + +"Hope so. Well, they're bound to be a bit sick at losing, so they'll +play up all the harder on Saturday to console themselves for losing the +cup." + +"My word, what strategy!" said Clowes. "You think of everything. When +do you think of playing it, then?" + +"Wednesday struck me as a good day. Don't you think so?" + +"It would do splendidly. It'll be a good match. For all practical +purposes, of course, it's the final. If we beat Seymour's, I don't +think the others will trouble us much." + +There was just time to see Milton before lock-up. Trevor ran across to +Seymour's, and went up to his study. + +"Come in," said Milton, in answer to his knock. + +Trevor went in, and stood surprised at the difference in the look of +the place since the last time he had visited it. The walls, once +covered with photographs, were bare. Milton, seated before the fire, +was ruefully contemplating what looked like a heap of waste cardboard. + +Trevor recognised the symptoms. He had had experience. + +"You don't mean to say they've been at you, too!" he cried. + +Milton's normally cheerful face was thunderous and gloomy. + +"Yes. I was thinking what I'd like to do to the man who ragged it." + +"It's the League again, I suppose?" + +Milton looked surprised. + +"_Again?_" he said, "where did _you_ hear of the League? +This is the first time I've heard of its existence, whatever it is. +What is the confounded thing, and why on earth have they played the +fool here? What's the meaning of this bally rot?" + +He exhibited one of the variety of cards of which Trevor had already +seen two specimens. Trevor explained briefly the style and nature of +the League, and mentioned that his study also had been wrecked. + +"Your study? Why, what have they got against you?" + +"I don't know," said Trevor. Nothing was to be gained by speaking of +the letters he had received. + +"Did they cut up your photographs?" + +"Every one." + +"I tell you what it is, Trevor, old chap," said Milton, with great +solemnity, "there's a lunatic in the school. That's what I make of it. +A lunatic whose form of madness is wrecking studies." + +"But the same chap couldn't have done yours and mine. It must have been +a Donaldson's fellow who did mine, and one of your chaps who did yours +and Mill's." + +"Mill's? By Jove, of course. I never thought of that. That was the +League, too, I suppose?" + +"Yes. One of those cards was tied to a chair, but Clowes took it away +before anybody saw it." + +Milton returned to the details of the disaster. + +"Was there any ink spilt in your room?" + +"Pints," said Trevor, shortly. The subject was painful. + +"So there was here," said Milton, mournfully. "Gallons." + +There was silence for a while, each pondering over his wrongs. + +"Gallons," said Milton again. "I was ass enough to keep a large pot +full of it here, and they used it all, every drop. You never saw such a +sight." + +Trevor said he had seen one similar spectacle. + +"And my photographs! You remember those photographs I showed you? All +ruined. Slit across with a knife. Some torn in half. I wish I knew who +did that." + +Trevor said he wished so, too. + +"There was one of Mrs Patrick Campbell," Milton continued in +heartrending tones, "which was torn into sixteen pieces. I counted +them. There they are on the mantelpiece. And there was one of Little +Tich" (here he almost broke down), "which was so covered with ink that +for half an hour I couldn't recognise it. Fact." + +Trevor nodded sympathetically. + +"Yes," said Milton. "Soaked." + +There was another silence. Trevor felt it would be almost an outrage to +discuss so prosaic a topic as the date of a house-match with one so +broken up. Yet time was flying, and lock-up was drawing near. + +"Are you willing to play--" he began. + +"I feel as if I could never play again," interrupted Milton. "You'd +hardly believe the amount of blotting-paper I've used today. It must +have been a lunatic, Dick, old man." + +When Milton called Trevor "Dick", it was a sign that he was moved. When +he called him "Dick, old man", it gave evidence of an internal upheaval +without parallel. + +"Why, who else but a lunatic would get up in the night to wreck another +chap's study? All this was done between eleven last night and seven +this morning. I turned in at eleven, and when I came down here again at +seven the place was a wreck. It must have been a lunatic." + +"How do you account for the printed card from the League?" + +Milton murmured something about madmen's cunning and diverting +suspicion, and relapsed into silence. Trevor seized the opportunity to +make the proposal he had come to make, that Donaldson's _v._ +Seymour's should be played on the following Wednesday. + +Milton agreed listlessly. + +"Just where you're standing," he said, "I found a photograph of Sir +Henry Irving so slashed about that I thought at first it was Huntley +Wright in _San Toy_." + +"Start at two-thirty sharp," said Trevor. + +"I had seventeen of Edna May," continued the stricken Seymourite, +monotonously. "In various attitudes. All destroyed." + +"On the first fifteen ground, of course," said Trevor. "I'll get +Aldridge to referee. That'll suit you, I suppose?" + +"All right. Anything you like. Just by the fireplace I found the +remains of Arthur Roberts in _H.M.S. Irresponsible_. And part of +Seymour Hicks. Under the table--" + +Trevor departed. + + + + +XIV + +THE WHITE FIGURE + + +"Suppose," said Shoeblossom to Barry, as they were walking over to +school on the morning following the day on which Milton's study had +passed through the hands of the League, "suppose you thought somebody +had done something, but you weren't quite certain who, but you knew it +was some one, what would you do?" + +"What on _earth_ do you mean?" inquired Barry. + +"I was trying to make an A.B. case of it," explained Shoeblossom. + +"What's an A.B. case?" + +"I don't know," admitted Shoeblossom, frankly. "But it comes in a book +of Stevenson's. I think it must mean a sort of case where you call +everyone A. and B. and don't tell their names." + +"Well, go ahead." + +"It's about Milton's study." + +"What! what about it?" + +"Well, you see, the night it was ragged I was sitting in my study with +a dark lantern--" + +"What!" + +Shoeblossom proceeded to relate the moving narrative of his +night-walking adventure. He dwelt movingly on his state of mind +when standing behind the door, waiting for Mr Seymour to come in +and find him. He related with appropriate force the hair-raising +episode of the weird white figure. And then he came to the conclusions +he had since drawn (in calmer moments) from that apparition's movements. + +"You see," he said, "I saw it coming out of Milton's study, and that +must have been about the time the study was ragged. And it went into +Rigby's dorm. So it must have been a chap in that dorm, who did it." + +Shoeblossom was quite clever at rare intervals. Even Barry, whose +belief in his sanity was of the smallest, was compelled to admit that +here, at any rate, he was talking sense. + +"What would you do?" asked Shoeblossom. + +"Tell Milton, of course," said Barry. + +"But he'd give me beans for being out of the dorm, after lights-out." + +This was a distinct point to be considered. The attitude of Barry +towards Milton was different from that of Shoeblossom. Barry regarded +him--through having played with him in important matches--as a good +sort of fellow who had always behaved decently to him. Leather-Twigg, +on the other hand, looked on him with undisguised apprehension, as one +in authority who would give him lines the first time he came into +contact with him, and cane him if he ever did it again. He had a +decided disinclination to see Milton on any pretext whatever. + +"Suppose I tell him?" suggested Barry. + +"You'll keep my name dark?" said Shoeblossom, alarmed. + +Barry said he would make an A.B. case of it. + +After school he went to Milton's study, and found him still brooding +over its departed glories. + +"I say, Milton, can I speak to you for a second?" + +"Hullo, Barry. Come in." + +Barry came in. + +"I had forty-three photographs," began Milton, without preamble. "All +destroyed. And I've no money to buy any more. I had seventeen of Edna +May." + +Barry, feeling that he was expected to say something, said, "By Jove! +Really?" + +"In various positions," continued Milton. "All ruined." + +"Not really?" said Barry. + +"There was one of Little Tich--" + +But Barry felt unequal to playing the part of chorus any longer. It was +all very thrilling, but, if Milton was going to run through the entire +list of his destroyed photographs, life would be too short for +conversation on any other topic. + +"I say, Milton," he said, "it was about that that I came. I'm sorry--" + +Milton sat up. + +"It wasn't you who did this, was it?" + +"No, no," said Barry, hastily. + +"Oh, I thought from your saying you were sorry--" + +"I was going to say I thought I could put you on the track of the chap +who did do it--" + +For the second time since the interview began Milton sat up. + +"Go on," he said. + +"--But I'm sorry I can't give you the name of the fellow who told me +about it." + +"That doesn't matter," said Milton. "Tell me the name of the fellow who +did it. That'll satisfy me." + +"I'm afraid I can't do that, either." + +"Have you any idea what you _can_ do?" asked Milton, satirically. + +"I can tell you something which may put you on the right track." + +"That'll do for a start. Well?" + +"Well, the chap who told me--I'll call him A.; I'm going to make an +A.B. case of it--was coming out of his study at about one o'clock in +the morning--" + +"What the deuce was he doing that for?" + +"Because he wanted to go back to bed," said Barry. + +"About time, too. Well?" + +"As he was going past your study, a white figure emerged--" + +"I should strongly advise you, young Barry," said Milton, gravely, "not +to try and rot me in any way. You're a jolly good wing three-quarters, +but you shouldn't presume on it. I'd slay the Old Man himself if he +rotted me about this business." + +Barry was quite pained at this sceptical attitude in one whom he was +going out of his way to assist. + +"I'm not rotting," he protested. "This is all quite true." + +"Well, go on. You were saying something about white figures emerging." + +"Not white figures. A white figure," corrected Barry. "It came out of +your study--" + +"--And vanished through the wall?" + +"It went into Rigby's dorm.," said Barry, sulkily. It was maddening to +have an exclusive bit of news treated in this way. + + +"Did it, by Jove!" said Milton, interested at last. "Are you sure the +chap who told you wasn't pulling your leg? Who was it told you?" + +"I promised him not to say." + +"Out with it, young Barry." + +"I won't," said Barry. + +"You aren't going to tell me?" + +"No." + +Milton gave up the point with much cheerfulness. He liked Barry, and he +realised that he had no right to try and make him break his promise. + +"That's all right," he said. "Thanks very much, Barry. This may be +useful." + +"I'd tell you his name if I hadn't promised, you know, Milton." + +"It doesn't matter," said Milton. "It's not important." + +"Oh, there was one thing I forgot. It was a biggish chap the fellow +saw." + +"How big! My size?" + +"Not quite so tall, I should think. He said he was about Seymour's +size." + +"Thanks. That's worth knowing. Thanks very much, Barry." + +When his visitor had gone, Milton proceeded to unearth one of the +printed lists of the house which were used for purposes of roll-call. +He meant to find out who were in Rigby's dormitory. He put a tick +against the names. There were eighteen of them. The next thing was to +find out which of them was about the same height as Mr Seymour. It was a +somewhat vague description, for the house-master stood about five feet +nine or eight, and a good many of the dormitory were that height, or near +it. At last, after much brain-work, he reduced the number of "possibles" +to seven. These seven were Rigby himself, Linton, Rand-Brown, Griffith, +Hunt, Kershaw, and Chapple. Rigby might be scratched off the list at +once. He was one of Milton's greatest friends. Exeunt also Griffith, +Hunt, and Kershaw. They were mild youths, quite incapable of any deed +of devilry. There remained, therefore, Chapple, Linton, and Rand-Brown. +Chapple was a boy who was invariably late for breakfast. The inference +was that he was not likely to forego his sleep for the purpose of +wrecking studies. Chapple might disappear from the list. Now there +were only Linton and Rand-Brown to be considered. His suspicions fell +on Rand-Brown. Linton was the last person, he thought, to do such a +low thing. He was a cheerful, rollicking individual, who was popular with +everyone and seemed to like everyone. He was not an orderly member of +the house, certainly, and on several occasions Milton had found it +necessary to drop on him heavily for creating disturbances. But he was +not the sort that bears malice. He took it all in the way of business, +and came up smiling after it was over. No, everything pointed to +Rand-Brown. He and Milton had never got on well together, and quite +recently they had quarrelled openly over the former's play in the Day's +match. Rand-Brown must be the man. But Milton was sensible enough to +feel that so far he had no real evidence whatever. He must wait. + +On the following afternoon Seymour's turned out to play Donaldson's. + +The game, like most house-matches, was played with the utmost keenness. +Both teams had good three-quarters, and they attacked in turn. +Seymour's had the best of it forward, where Milton was playing a great +game, but Trevor in the centre was the best outside on the field, and +pulled up rush after rush. By half-time neither side had scored. + +After half-time Seymour's, playing downhill, came away with a rush to +the Donaldsonites' half, and Rand-Brown, with one of the few decent +runs he had made in good class football that term, ran in on the left. +Milton took the kick, but failed, and Seymour's led by three points. +For the next twenty minutes nothing more was scored. Then, when five +minutes more of play remained, Trevor gave Clowes an easy opening, and +Clowes sprinted between the posts. The kick was an easy one, and what +sporting reporters term "the major points" were easily added. + +When there are five more minutes to play in an important house-match, +and one side has scored a goal and the other a try, play is apt to +become spirited. Both teams were doing all they knew. The ball came out +to Barry on the right. Barry's abilities as a three-quarter rested +chiefly on the fact that he could dodge well. This eel-like attribute +compensated for a certain lack of pace. He was past the Donaldson's +three-quarters in an instant, and running for the line, with only the +back to pass, and with Clowes in hot pursuit. Another wriggle took him +past the back, but it also gave Clowes time to catch him up. Clowes was +a far faster runner, and he got to him just as he reached the +twenty-five line. They came down together with a crash, Clowes on +top, and as they fell the whistle blew. + +"No-side," said Mr. Aldridge, the master who was refereeing. + +Clowes got up. + +"All over," he said. "Jolly good game. Hullo, what's up?" + +For Barry seemed to be in trouble. + +"You might give us a hand up," said the latter. "I believe I've twisted +my beastly ankle or something." + + + + +XV + +A SPRAIN AND A VACANT PLACE + + +"I say," said Clowes, helping him up, "I'm awfully sorry. Did I do it? +How did it happen?" + +Barry was engaged in making various attempts at standing on the injured +leg. The process seemed to be painful. + +"Shall I get a stretcher or anything? Can you walk?" + +"If you'd help me over to the house, I could manage all right. What a +beastly nuisance! It wasn't your fault a bit. Only you tackled me when +I was just trying to swerve, and my ankle was all twisted." + +Drummond came up, carrying Barry's blazer and sweater. + +"Hullo, Barry," he said, "what's up? You aren't crocked?" + +"Something gone wrong with my ankle. That my blazer? Thanks. Coming +over to the house? Clowes was just going to help me over." + +Clowes asked a Donaldson's junior, who was lurking near at hand, to +fetch his blazer and carry it over to the house, and then made his way +with Drummond and the disabled Barry to Seymour's. Having arrived at +the senior day-room, they deposited the injured three-quarter in a +chair, and sent M'Todd, who came in at the moment, to fetch the doctor. + +Dr Oakes was a big man with a breezy manner, the sort of doctor who +hits you with the force of a sledge-hammer in the small ribs, and asks +you if you felt anything _then_. It was on this principle that he +acted with regard to Barry's ankle. He seized it in both hands and gave +it a wrench. + +"Did that hurt?" he inquired anxiously. + +Barry turned white, and replied that it did. + +Dr Oakes nodded wisely. + +"Ah! H'm! Just so. 'Myes. Ah." + +"Is it bad?" asked Drummond, awed by these mystic utterances. + +"My dear boy," replied the doctor, breezily, "it is always bad when one +twists one's ankle." + +"How long will it do me out of footer?" asked Barry. + +"How long? How long? How long? Why, fortnight. Fortnight," said the +doctor. + +"Then I shan't be able to play next Saturday?" + +"Next Saturday? Next Saturday? My dear boy, if you can put your foot to +the ground by next Saturday, you may take it as evidence that the age +of miracles is not past. Next Saturday, indeed! Ha, ha." + +It was not altogether his fault that he treated the matter with such +brutal levity. It was a long time since he had been at school, and he +could not quite realise what it meant to Barry not to be able to play +against Ripton. As for Barry, he felt that he had never loathed and +detested any one so thoroughly as he loathed and detested Dr Oakes at +that moment. + +"I don't see where the joke comes in," said Clowes, when he had gone. +"I bar that man." + +"He's a beast," said Drummond. "I can't understand why they let a tout +like that be the school doctor." + +Barry said nothing. He was too sore for words. + +What Dr Oakes said to his wife that evening was: "Over at the school, +my dear, this afternoon. This afternoon. Boy with a twisted ankle. Nice +young fellow. Very much put out when I told him he could not play +football for a fortnight. But I chaffed him, and cheered him up in no +time. I cheered him up in no time, my dear." + +"I'm sure you did, dear," said Mrs Oakes. Which shows how differently +the same thing may strike different people. Barry certainly did not +look as if he had been cheered up when Clowes left the study and went +over to tell Trevor that he would have to find a substitute for his +right wing three-quarter against Ripton. + +Trevor had left the field without noticing Barry's accident, and he was +tremendously pleased at the result of the game. + +"Good man," he said, when Clowes came in, "you saved the match." + +"And lost the Ripton match probably," said Clowes, gloomily. + +"What do you mean?" + +"That last time I brought down Barry I crocked him. He's in his study +now with a sprained ankle. I've just come from there. Oakes has seen +him, and says he mustn't play for a fortnight." + +"Great Scott!" said Trevor, blankly. "What on earth shall we do?" + +"Why not move Strachan up to the wing, and put somebody else back +instead of him? Strachan is a good wing." + +Trevor shook his head. + +"No. There's nobody good enough to play back for the first. We mustn't +risk it." + +"Then I suppose it must be Rand-Brown?" + +"I suppose so." + +"He may do better than we think. He played quite a decent game today. +That try he got wasn't half a bad one." + +"He'd be all right if he didn't funk. But perhaps he wouldn't funk +against Ripton. In a match like that anybody would play up. I'll ask +Milton and Allardyce about it." + +"I shouldn't go to Milton today," said Clowes. "I fancy he'll want a +night's rest before he's fit to talk to. He must be a bit sick about +this match. I know he expected Seymour's to win." + +He went out, but came back almost immediately. + +"I say," he said, "there's one thing that's just occurred to me. +This'll please the League. I mean, this ankle business of Barry's." + +The same idea had struck Trevor. It was certainly a respite. But he +regretted it for all that. What he wanted was to beat Ripton, and +Barry's absence would weaken the team. However, it was good in its way, +and cleared the atmosphere for the time. The League would hardly do +anything with regard to the carrying out of their threat while Barry +was on the sick-list. + +Next day, having given him time to get over the bitterness of defeat +in accordance with Clowes' thoughtful suggestion, Trevor called on +Milton, and asked him what his opinion was on the subject of the +inclusion of Rand-Brown in the first fifteen in place of Barry, + +"He's the next best man," he added, in defence of the proposal. + +"I suppose so," said Milton. "He'd better play, I suppose. There's no +one else." + +"Clowes thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to shove Strachan on the +wing, and put somebody else back." + +"Who is there to put?" + +"Jervis?" + +"Not good enough. No, it's better to be weakish on the wing than at +back. Besides, Rand-Brown may do all right. He played well against +you." + +"Yes," said Trevor. "Study looks a bit better now," he added, as he was +going, having looked round the room. "Still a bit bare, though." + +Milton sighed. "It will never be what it was." + +"Forty-three theatrical photographs want some replacing, of course," +said Trevor. "But it isn't bad, considering." + +"How's yours?" + +"Oh, mine's all right, except for the absence of photographs." + +"I say, Trevor." + +"Yes?" said Trevor, stopping at the door. Milton's voice had taken on +the tone of one who is about to disclose dreadful secrets. + +"Would you like to know what I think?" + +"What?" + +"Why, I'm pretty nearly sure who it was that ragged my study?" + +"By Jove! What have you done to him?" + +"Nothing as yet. I'm not quite sure of my man." + +"Who is the man?" + +"Rand-Brown." + +"By Jove! Clowes once said he thought Rand-Brown must be the President +of the League. But then, I don't see how you can account for _my_ +study being wrecked. He was out on the field when it was done." + +"Why, the League, of course. You don't suppose he's the only man in it? +There must be a lot of them." + +"But what makes you think it was Rand-Brown?" + +Milton told him the story of Shoeblossom, as Barry had told it to him. +The only difference was that Trevor listened without any of the +scepticism which Milton had displayed on hearing it. He was getting +excited. It all fitted in so neatly. If ever there was circumstantial +evidence against a man, here it was against Rand-Brown. Take the two +cases. Milton had quarrelled with him. Milton's study was wrecked "with +the compliments of the League". Trevor had turned him out of the first +fifteen. Trevor's study was wrecked "with the compliments of the +League". As Clowes had pointed out, the man with the most obvious +motive for not wishing Barry to play for the school was Rand-Brown. It +seemed a true bill. + +"I shouldn't wonder if you're right," he said, "but of course one can't +do anything yet. You want a lot more evidence. Anyhow, we must play him +against Ripton, I suppose. Which is his study? I'll go and tell him +now." + +"Ten." + +Trevor knocked at the door of study Ten. Rand-Brown was sitting over +the fire, reading. He jumped up when he saw that it was Trevor who had +come in, and to his visitor it seemed that his face wore a guilty look. + +"What do you want?" said Rand-Brown. + +It was not the politest way of welcoming a visitor. It increased +Trevor's suspicions. The man was afraid. A great idea darted into his +mind. Why not go straight to the point and have it out with him here +and now? He had the League's letter about the bat in his pocket. He +would confront him with it and insist on searching the study there and +then. If Rand-Brown were really, as he suspected, the writer of the +letter, the bat must be in this room somewhere. Search it now, and he +would have no time to hide it. He pulled out the letter. + +"I believe you wrote that," he said. + +Trevor was always direct. + +Rand-Brown seemed to turn a little pale, but his voice when he replied +was quite steady. + +"That's a lie," he said. + +"Then, perhaps," said Trevor, "you wouldn't object to proving it." + +"How?" + +"By letting me search your study?" + +"You don't believe my word?" + +"Why should I? You don't believe mine." + +Rand-Brown made no comment on this remark. + +"Was that what you came here for?" he asked. + +"No," said Trevor; "as a matter of fact, I came to tell you to turn out +for running and passing with the first tomorrow afternoon. You're +playing against Ripton on Saturday." + +Rand-Brown's attitude underwent a complete transformation at the news. +He became friendliness itself. + +"All right," he said. "I say, I'm sorry I said what I did about lying. +I was rather sick that you should think I wrote that rot you showed me. +I hope you don't mind." + +"Not a bit. Do you mind my searching your study?" + +For a moment Rand-Brown looked vicious. Then he sat down with a laugh. + +"Go on," he said; "I see you don't believe me. Here are the keys if you +want them." + +Trevor thanked him, and took the keys. He opened every drawer and +examined the writing-desk. The bat was in none of these places. He +looked in the cupboards. No bat there. + +"Like to take up the carpet?" inquired Rand-Brown. + +"No, thanks." + +"Search me if you like. Shall I turn out my pockets?" + +"Yes, please," said Trevor, to his surprise. He had not expected to be +taken literally. + +Rand-Brown emptied them, but the bat was not there. Trevor turned to +go. + +"You've not looked inside the legs of the chairs yet," said Rand-Brown. +"They may be hollow. There's no knowing." + +"It doesn't matter, thanks," said Trevor. "Sorry for troubling you. +Don't forget tomorrow afternoon." + +And he went, with the very unpleasant feeling that he had been badly +scored off. + + + + +XVI + +THE RIPTON MATCH + + +It was a curious thing in connection with the matches between Ripton +and Wrykyn, that Ripton always seemed to be the bigger team. They +always had a gigantic pack of forwards, who looked capable of shoving a +hole through one of the pyramids. Possibly they looked bigger to the +Wrykinians than they really were. Strangers always look big on the +football field. When you have grown accustomed to a person's +appearance, he does not look nearly so large. Milton, for instance, +never struck anybody at Wrykyn as being particularly big for a school +forward, and yet today he was the heaviest man on the field by a +quarter of a stone. But, taken in the mass, the Ripton pack were far +heavier than their rivals. There was a legend current among the lower +forms at Wrykyn that fellows were allowed to stop on at Ripton till +they were twenty-five, simply to play football. This is scarcely likely +to have been based on fact. Few lower form legends are. + +Jevons, the Ripton captain, through having played opposite Trevor for +three seasons--he was the Ripton left centre-three-quarter--had come to +be quite an intimate of his. Trevor had gone down with Milton and +Allardyce to meet the team at the station, and conduct them up to the +school. + +"How have you been getting on since Christmas?" asked Jevons. + +"Pretty well. We've lost Paget, I suppose you know?" + +"That was the fast man on the wing, wasn't it?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, we've lost a man, too." + +"Oh, yes, that red-haired forward. I remember him." + +"It ought to make us pretty even. What's the ground like?" + +"Bit greasy, I should think. We had some rain late last night." + +The ground _was_ a bit greasy. So was the ball. When Milton kicked +off up the hill with what wind there was in his favour, the outsides of +both teams found it difficult to hold the ball. Jevons caught it on his +twenty-five line, and promptly handed it forward. The first scrum was +formed in the heart of the enemy's country. + +A deep, swelling roar from either touch-line greeted the school's +advantage. A feature of a big match was always the shouting. It rarely +ceased throughout the whole course of the game, the monotonous but +impressive sound of five hundred voices all shouting the same word. It +was worth hearing. Sometimes the evenness of the noise would change to +an excited _crescendo_ as a school three-quarter got off, or the +school back pulled up the attack with a fine piece of defence. +Sometimes the shouting would give place to clapping when the school was +being pressed and somebody had found touch with a long kick. But mostly +the man on the ropes roared steadily and without cessation, and with +the full force of his lungs, the word "_Wrykyn!_" + +The scrum was a long one. For two minutes the forwards heaved and +strained, now one side, now the other, gaining a few inches. The Wrykyn +pack were doing all they knew to heel, but their opponents' superior +weight was telling. Ripton had got the ball, and were keeping it. Their +game was to break through with it and rush. Then suddenly one of their +forwards kicked it on, and just at that moment the opposition of the +Wrykyn pack gave way, and the scrum broke up. The ball came out on the +Wrykyn side, and Allardyce whipped it out to Deacon, who was playing +half with him. + +"Ball's out," cried the Ripton half who was taking the scrum. "Break +up. It's out." + +And his colleague on the left darted across to stop Trevor, who had +taken Deacon's pass, and was running through on the right. + +Trevor ran splendidly. He was a three-quarter who took a lot of +stopping when he once got away. Jevons and the Ripton half met him +almost simultaneously, and each slackened his pace for the fraction of +a second, to allow the other to tackle. As they hesitated, Trevor +passed them. He had long ago learned that to go hard when you have once +started is the thing that pays. + +He could see that Rand-Brown was racing up for the pass, and, as he +reached the back, he sent the ball to him, waist-high. Then the back +got to him, and he came down with a thud, with a vision, seen from the +corner of his eye, of the ball bounding forward out of the wing +three-quarter's hands into touch. Rand-Brown had bungled the pass +in the old familiar way, and lost a certain try. + +The touch-judge ran up with his flag waving in the air, but the referee +had other views. + +"Knocked on inside," he said; "scrum here." + +"Here" was, Trevor saw with unspeakable disgust, some three yards from +the goal-line. Rand-Brown had only had to take the pass, and he must +have scored. + +The Ripton forwards were beginning to find their feet better now, and +they carried the scrum. A truculent-looking warrior in one of those +ear-guards which are tied on by strings underneath the chin, and which +add fifty per cent to the ferocity of a forward's appearance, broke +away with the ball at his feet, and swept down the field with the rest +of the pack at his heels. Trevor arrived too late to pull up the rush, +which had gone straight down the right touch-line, and it was not till +Strachan fell on the ball on the Wrykyn twenty-five line that the +danger ceased to threaten. + +Even now the school were in a bad way. The enemy were pressing keenly, +and a real piece of combination among their three-quarters would only +too probably end in a try. Fortunately for them, Allardyce and Deacon +were a better pair of halves than the couple they were marking. Also, +the Ripton forwards heeled slowly, and Allardyce had generally got his +man safely buried in the mud before he could pass. + +He was just getting round for the tenth time to bottle his opponent as +before, when he slipped. When the ball came out he was on all fours, +and the Ripton exponent, finding to his great satisfaction that he +had not been tackled, whipped the ball out on the left, where a wing +three-quarter hovered. + +This was the man Rand-Brown was supposed to be marking, and once again +did Barry's substitute prove of what stuff his tackling powers were +made. After his customary moment of hesitation, he had at the +Riptonian's neck. The Riptonian handed him off in a manner that +recalled the palmy days of the old Prize Ring--handing off was always +slightly vigorous in the Ripton _v._ Wrykyn match--and dashed over +the line in the extreme corner. + +There was anguish on the two touch-lines. Trevor looked savage, but +made no comment. The team lined up in silence. + +It takes a very good kick to convert a try from the touch-line. Jevons' +kick was a long one, but it fell short. Ripton led by a try to nothing. + +A few more scrums near the halfway line, and a fine attempt at a +dropped goal by the Ripton back, and it was half-time, with the score +unaltered. + +During the interval there were lemons. An excellent thing is your lemon +at half-time. It cools the mouth, quenches the thirst, stimulates the +desire to be at them again, and improves the play. + +Possibly the Wrykyn team had been happier in their choice of lemons on +this occasion, for no sooner had the game been restarted than Clowes +ran the whole length of the field, dodged through the three-quarters, +punted over the back's head, and scored a really brilliant try, of the +sort that Paget had been fond of scoring in the previous term. The man +on the touch-line brightened up wonderfully, and began to try and +calculate the probable score by the end of the game, on the assumption +that, as a try had been scored in the first two minutes, ten would be +scored in the first twenty, and so on. + +But the calculations were based on false premises. After Strachan had +failed to convert, and the game had been resumed with the score at one +try all, play settled down in the centre, and neither side could pierce +the other's defence. Once Jevons got off for Ripton, but Trevor brought +him down safely, and once Rand-Brown let his man through, as before, +but Strachan was there to meet him, and the effort came to nothing. For +Wrykyn, no one did much except tackle. The forwards were beaten by the +heavier pack, and seldom let the ball out. Allardyce intercepted a pass +when about ten minutes of play remained, and ran through to the back. +But the back, who was a capable man and in his third season in the +team, laid him low scientifically before he could reach the line. + +Altogether it looked as if the match were going to end in a draw. The +Wrykyn defence, with the exception of Rand-Brown, was too good to be +penetrated, while the Ripton forwards, by always getting the ball in +the scrums, kept them from attacking. It was about five minutes from +the end of the game when the Ripton right centre-three-quarter, in +trying to punt across to the wing, miskicked and sent the ball straight +into the hands of Trevor's colleague in the centre. Before his man +could get round to him he had slipped through, with Trevor backing him +up. The back, as a good back should, seeing two men coming at him, went +for the man with the ball. But by the time he had brought him down, the +ball was no longer where it had originally been. Trevor had got it, and +was running in between the posts. + +This time Strachan put on the extra two points without difficulty. + +Ripton played their hardest for the remaining minutes, but without +result. The game ended with Wrykyn a goal ahead--a goal and a try to a +try. For the second time in one season the Ripton match had ended in a +victory--a thing it was very rarely in the habit of doing. + + * * * * * + +The senior day-room at Seymour's rejoiced considerably that night. The +air was dark with flying cushions, and darker still, occasionally, when +the usual humorist turned the gas out. Milton was out, for he had gone +to the dinner which followed the Ripton match, and the man in command +of the house in his absence was Mill. And the senior day-room had no +respect whatever for Mill. + +Barry joined in the revels as well as his ankle would let him, but he +was not feeling happy. The disappointment of being out of the first +still weighed on him. + +At about eight, when things were beginning to grow really lively, and +the noise seemed likely to crack the window at any moment, the door was +flung open and Milton stalked in. + +"What's all this row?" he inquired. "Stop it at once." + +As a matter of fact, the row _had_ stopped--directly he came in. + +"Is Barry here?" he asked. + +"Yes," said that youth. + +"Congratulate you on your first, Barry. We've just had a meeting and +given you your colours. Trevor told me to tell you." + + + + +XVII + +THE WATCHERS IN THE VAULT + + +For the next three seconds you could have heard a cannonball drop. And +that was equivalent, in the senior day-room at Seymour's, to a dead +silence. Barry stood in the middle of the room leaning on the stick on +which he supported life, now that his ankle had been injured, and +turned red and white in regular rotation, as the magnificence of the +news came home to him. + +Then the small voice of Linton was heard. + +"That'll be six d. I'll trouble you for, young Sammy," said Linton. For +he had betted an even sixpence with Master Samuel Menzies that Barry +would get his first fifteen cap this term, and Barry had got it. + +A great shout went up from every corner of the room. Barry was one of +the most popular members of the house, and every one had been sorry for +him when his sprained ankle had apparently put him out of the running +for the last cap. + +"Good old Barry," said Drummond, delightedly. Barry thanked him in a +dazed way. + +Every one crowded in to shake his hand. Barry thanked then all in a +dazed way. + +And then the senior day-room, in spite of the fact that Milton had +returned, gave itself up to celebrating the occasion with one of the +most deafening uproars that had ever been heard even in that factory of +noise. A babel of voices discussed the match of the afternoon, each +trying to outshout the other. In one corner Linton was beating wildly +on a biscuit-tin with part of a broken chair. Shoeblossom was busy in +the opposite corner executing an intricate step-dance on somebody +else's box. M'Todd had got hold of the red-hot poker, and was burning +his initials in huge letters on the seat of a chair. Every one, in +short, was enjoying himself, and it was not until an advanced hour that +comparative quiet was restored. It was a great evening for Barry, the +best he had ever experienced. + +Clowes did not learn the news till he saw it on the notice-board, on +the following Monday. When he saw it he whistled softly. + +"I see you've given Barry his first," he said to Trevor, when they met. +"Rather sensational." + +"Milton and Allardyce both thought he deserved it. If he'd been playing +instead of Rand-Brown, they wouldn't have scored at all probably, and +we should have got one more try." + +"That's all right," said Clowes. "He deserves it right enough, and I'm +jolly glad you've given it him. But things will begin to move now, +don't you think? The League ought to have a word to say about the +business. It'll be a facer for them." + +"Do you remember," asked Trevor, "saying that you thought it must be +Rand-Brown who wrote those letters?" + +"Yes. Well?" + +"Well, Milton had an idea that it was Rand-Brown who ragged his study." + +"What made him think that?" + +Trevor related the Shoeblossom incident. + +Clowes became quite excited. + +"Then Rand-Brown must be the man," he said. "Why don't you go and +tackle him? Probably he's got the bat in his study." + +"It's not in his study," said Trevor, "because I looked everywhere for +it, and got him to turn out his pockets, too. And yet I'll swear he +knows something about it. One thing struck me as a bit suspicious. I +went straight into his study and showed him that last letter--about the +bat, you know, and accused him of writing it. Now, if he hadn't been in +the business somehow, he wouldn't have understood what was meant by +their saying 'the bat you lost'. It might have been an ordinary +cricket-bat for all he knew. But he offered to let me search the study. +It didn't strike me as rum till afterwards. Then it seemed fishy. What +do you think?" + +Clowes thought so too, but admitted that he did not see of what use the +suspicion was going to be. Whether Rand-Brown knew anything about the +affair or not, it was quite certain that the bat was not with him. + +O'Hara, meanwhile, had decided that the time had come for him to resume +his detective duties. Moriarty agreed with him, and they resolved that +that night they would patronise the vault instead of the gymnasium, and +take a holiday as far as their boxing was concerned. There was plenty +of time before the Aldershot competition. + +Lock-up was still at six, so at a quarter to that hour they slipped +down into the vault, and took up their position. + +A quarter of an hour passed. The lock-up bell sounded faintly. Moriarty +began to grow tired. + +"Is it worth it?" he said, "an' wouldn't they have come before, if they +meant to come?" + +"We'll give them another quarter of an hour," said O'Hara. "After that--" + +"Sh!" whispered Moriarty. + +The door had opened. They could see a figure dimly outlined in the +semi-darkness. Footsteps passed down into the vault, and there came a +sound as if the unknown had cannoned into a chair, followed by a sharp +intake of breath, expressive of pain. A scraping sound, and a flash of +light, and part of the vault was lit by a candle. O'Hara caught a +glimpse of the unknown's face as he rose from lighting the candle, but +it was not enough to enable him to recognise him. The candle was +standing on a chair, and the light it gave was too feeble to reach the +face of any one not on a level with it. + +The unknown began to drag chairs out into the neighbourhood of the +light. O'Hara counted six. + +The sixth chair had scarcely been placed in position when the door +opened again. Six other figures appeared in the opening one after the +other, and bolted into the vault like rabbits into a burrow. The last +of them closed the door after them. + +O'Hara nudged Moriarty, and Moriarty nudged O'Hara; but neither made a +sound. They were not likely to be seen--the blackness of the vault was +too Egyptian for that--but they were so near to the chairs that the +least whisper must have been heard. Not a word had proceeded from the +occupants of the chairs so far. If O'Hara's suspicion was correct, and +this was really the League holding a meeting, their methods were more +secret than those of any other secret society in existence. Even the +Nihilists probably exchanged a few remarks from time to time, when they +met together to plot. But these men of mystery never opened their lips. +It puzzled O'Hara. + +The light of the candle was obscured for a moment, and a sound of +puffing came from the darkness. + +O'Hara nudged Moriarty again. + +"Smoking!" said the nudge. + +Moriarty nudged O'Hara. + +"Smoking it is!" was the meaning of the movement. + +A strong smell of tobacco showed that the diagnosis had been a true +one. Each of the figures in turn lit his pipe at the candle, and sat +back, still in silence. It could not have been very pleasant, smoking +in almost pitch darkness, but it was breaking rules, which was probably +the main consideration that swayed the smokers. They puffed away +steadily, till the two Irishmen were wrapped about in invisible clouds. + +Then a strange thing happened. I know that I am infringing copyright in +making that statement, but it so exactly suits the occurrence, that +perhaps Mr Rider Haggard will not object. It _was_ a strange thing +that happened. + +A rasping voice shattered the silence. + +"You boys down there," said the voice, "come here immediately. Come +here, I say." + +It was the well-known voice of Mr Robert Dexter, O'Hara and Moriarty's +beloved house-master. + +The two Irishmen simultaneously clutched one another, each afraid that +the other would think--from force of long habit--that the house-master +was speaking to him. Both stood where they were. It was the men of +mystery and tobacco that Dexter was after, they thought. + +But they were wrong. What had brought Dexter to the vault was the fact +that he had seen two boys, who looked uncommonly like O'Hara and +Moriarty, go down the steps of the vault at a quarter to six. He had +been doing his usual after-lock-up prowl on the junior gravel, to +intercept stragglers, and he had been a witness--from a distance of +fifty yards, in a very bad light--of the descent into the vault. He had +remained on the gravel ever since, in the hope of catching them as they +came up; but as they had not come up, he had determined to make the +first move himself. He had not seen the six unknowns go down, for, the +evening being chilly, he had paced up and down, and they had by a lucky +accident chosen a moment when his back was turned. + +"Come up immediately," he repeated. + +Here a blast of tobacco-smoke rushed at him from the darkness. The +candle had been extinguished at the first alarm, and he had not +realised--though he had suspected it--that smoking had been going on. + +A hurried whispering was in progress among the unknowns. Apparently +they saw that the game was up, for they picked their way towards the +door. + +As each came up the steps and passed him, Mr Dexter observed "Ha!" and +appeared to make a note of his name. The last of the six was just +leaving him after this process had been completed, when Mr Dexter +called him back. + +"That is not all," he said, suspiciously. + +"Yes, sir," said the last of the unknowns. + +Neither of the Irishmen recognised the voice. Its owner was a stranger +to them. + +"I tell you it is not," snapped Mr Dexter. "You are concealing the +truth from me. O'Hara and Moriarty are down there--two boys in my own +house. I saw them go down there." + +"They had nothing to do with us, sir. We saw nothing of them." + +"I have no doubt," said the house-master, "that you imagine that you +are doing a very chivalrous thing by trying to hide them, but you will +gain nothing by it. You may go." + +He came to the top of the steps, and it seemed as if he intended to +plunge into the darkness in search of the suspects. But, probably +realising the futility of such a course, he changed his mind, and +delivered an ultimatum from the top step. + +"O'Hara and Moriarty." + +No reply. + +"O'Hara and Moriarty, I know perfectly well that you are down there. +Come up immediately." + +Dignified silence from the vault. + +"Well, I shall wait here till you do choose to come up. You would be +well advised to do so immediately. I warn you you will not tire me +out." + +He turned, and the door slammed behind him. + +"What'll we do?" whispered Moriarty. It was at last safe to whisper. + +"Wait," said O'Hara, "I'm thinking." + +O'Hara thought. For many minutes he thought in vain. At last there came +flooding back into his mind a memory of the days of his faghood. It was +after that that he had been groping all the time. He remembered now. +Once in those days there had been an unexpected function in the middle of +term. There were needed for that function certain chairs. He could recall +even now his furious disgust when he and a select body of fellow fags had +been pounced upon by their form-master, and coerced into forming a line +from the junior block to the cloisters, for the purpose of handing +chairs. True, his form-master had stood ginger-beer after the event, with +princely liberality, but the labour was of the sort that gallons of +ginger-beer will not make pleasant. But he ceased to regret the episode +now. He had been at the extreme end of the chair-handling chain. He had +stood in a passage in the junior block, just by the door that led to the +masters' garden, and which--he remembered--was never locked till late at +night. And while he stood there, a pair of hands--apparently without a +body--had heaved up chair after chair through a black opening in the +floor. In other words, a trap-door connected with the vault in which +he now was. + +He imparted these reminiscences of childhood to Moriarty. They set off +to search for the missing door, and, after wanderings and barkings of +shins too painful to relate, they found it. Moriarty lit a match. The +light fell on the trap-door, and their last doubts were at an end. The +thing opened inwards. The bolt was on their side, not in the passage +above them. To shoot the bolt took them one second, to climb into the +passage one minute. They stood at the side of the opening, and dusted +their clothes. + +"Bedad!" said Moriarty, suddenly. + +"What?" + +"Why, how are we to shut it?" + +This was a problem that wanted some solving. Eventually they managed +it, O'Hara leaning over and fishing for it, while Moriarty held his +legs. + +As luck would have it--and luck had stood by them well all +through--there was a bolt on top of the trap-door, as well as +beneath it. + +"Supposing that had been shot!" said O'Hara, as they fastened the door +in its place. + +Moriarty did not care to suppose anything so unpleasant. + +Mr Dexter was still prowling about on the junior gravel, when the two +Irishmen ran round and across the senior gravel to the gymnasium. Here +they put in a few minutes' gentle sparring, and then marched boldly up +to Mr Day (who happened to have looked in five minutes after their +arrival) and got their paper. + +"What time did O'Hara and Moriarty arrive at the gymnasium?" asked Mr +Dexter of Mr Day next morning. + +"O'Hara and Moriarty? Really, I can't remember. I know they _left_ +at about a quarter to seven." + +That profound thinker, Mr Tony Weller, was never so correct as in his +views respecting the value of an _alibi_. There are few better +things in an emergency. + + + + +XVIII + +O'HARA EXCELS HIMSELF + + +It was Renford's turn next morning to get up and feed the ferrets. +Harvey had done it the day before. + +Renford was not a youth who enjoyed early rising, but in the cause of +the ferrets he would have endured anything, so at six punctually he +slid out of bed, dressed quietly, so as not to disturb the rest of the +dormitory, and ran over to the vault. To his utter amazement he found +it locked. Such a thing had never been done before in the whole course +of his experience. He tugged at the handle, but not an inch or a +fraction of an inch would the door yield. The policy of the Open Door +had ceased to find favour in the eyes of the authorities. + +A feeling of blank despair seized upon him. He thought of the dismay of +the ferrets when they woke up and realised that there was no chance of +breakfast for them. And then they would gradually waste away, and some +day somebody would go down to the vault to fetch chairs, and would come +upon two mouldering skeletons, and wonder what they had once been. He +almost wept at the vision so conjured up. + +There was nobody about. Perhaps he might break in somehow. But then +there was nothing to get to work with. He could not kick the door down. +No, he must give it up, and the ferrets' breakfast-hour must be +postponed. Possibly Harvey might be able to think of something. + +"Fed 'em?" inquired Harvey, when they met at breakfast. + +"No, I couldn't." + +"Why on earth not? You didn't oversleep yourself?" + +Renford poured his tale into his friend's shocked ears. + +"My hat!" said Harvey, when he had finished, "what on earth are we to +do? They'll starve." + +Renford nodded mournfully. + +"Whatever made them go and lock the door?" he said. + +He seemed to think the authorities should have given him due notice of +such an action. + +"You're sure they have locked it? It isn't only stuck or something?" + +"I lugged at the handle for hours. But you can go and see for yourself +if you like." + +Harvey went, and, waiting till the coast was clear, attached himself to +the handle with a prehensile grasp, and put his back into one strenuous +tug. It was even as Renford had said. The door was locked beyond +possibility of doubt. + +Renford and he went over to school that morning with long faces and a +general air of acute depression. It was perhaps fortunate for their +purpose that they did, for had their appearance been normal it might +not have attracted O'Hara's attention. As it was, the Irishman, meeting +them on the junior gravel, stopped and asked them what was wrong. Since +the adventure in the vault, he had felt an interest in Renford and +Harvey. + +The two told their story in alternate sentences like the Strophe and +Antistrophe of a Greek chorus. ("Steichomuthics," your Greek scholar +calls it, I fancy. Ha, yes! Just so.) + +"So ye can't get in because they've locked the door, an' ye don't know +what to do about it?" said O'Hara, at the conclusion of the narrative. + +Renford and Harvey informed him in chorus that that _was_ the +state of the game up to present date. + +"An' ye want me to get them out for you?" + +Neither had dared to hope that he would go so far as this. What they +had looked for had been at the most a few thoughtful words of advice. +That such a master-strategist as O'Hara should take up their cause was +an unexampled piece of good luck. + +"If you only would," said Harvey. + +"We should be most awfully obliged," said Renford. + +"Very well," said O'Hara. + +They thanked him profusely. + +O'Hara replied that it would be a privilege. + +He should be sorry, he said, to have anything happen to the ferrets. + +Renford and Harvey went on into school feeling more cheerful. If the +ferrets could be extracted from their present tight corner, O'Hara was +the man to do it. + +O'Hara had not made his offer of assistance in any spirit of doubt. He +was certain that he could do what he had promised. For it had not +escaped his memory that this was a Tuesday--in other words, a +mathematics morning up to the quarter to eleven interval. That meant, +as has been explained previously, that, while the rest of the school +were in the form-rooms, he would be out in the passage, if he cared to +be. There would be no witnesses to what he was going to do. + +But, by that curious perversity of fate which is so often noticeable, +Mr Banks was in a peculiarly lamb-like and long-suffering mood this +morning. Actions for which O'Hara would on other days have been +expelled from the room without hope of return, today were greeted with +a mild "Don't do that, please, O'Hara," or even the ridiculously +inadequate "O'Hara!" It was perfectly disheartening. O'Hara began to +ask himself bitterly what was the use of ragging at all if this was how +it was received. And the moments were flying, and his promise to +Renford and Harvey still remained unfulfilled. + +He prepared for fresh efforts. + +So desperate was he, that he even resorted to crude methods like the +throwing of paper balls and the dropping of books. And when your really +scientific ragger sinks to this, he is nearing the end of his tether. +O'Hara hated to be rude, but there seemed no help for it. + +The striking of a quarter past ten improved his chances. It had been +privily agreed upon beforehand amongst the members of the class that at +a quarter past ten every one was to sneeze simultaneously. The noise +startled Mr Banks considerably. The angelic mood began to wear off. A +man may be long-suffering, but he likes to draw the line somewhere. + +"Another exhibition like that," he said, sharply, "and the class stays +in after school, O'Hara!" + +"Sir?" + +"Silence." + +"I said nothing, sir, really." + +"Boy, you made a cat-like noise with your mouth." + +"What _sort_ of noise, sir?" + +The form waited breathlessly. This peculiarly insidious question had +been invented for mathematical use by one Sandys, who had left at the +end of the previous summer. It was but rarely that the master increased +the gaiety of nations by answering the question in the manner desired. + +Mr Banks, off his guard, fell into the trap. + +"A noise like this," he said curtly, and to the delighted audience came +the melodious sound of a "Mi-aou", which put O'Hara's effort completely +in the shade, and would have challenged comparison with the war-cry of +the stoutest mouser that ever trod a tile. + +A storm of imitations arose from all parts of the room. Mr Banks turned +pink, and, going straight to the root of the disturbance, forthwith +evicted O'Hara. + +O'Hara left with the satisfying feeling that his duty had been done. + +Mr Banks' room was at the top of the middle block. He ran softly down +the stairs at his best pace. It was not likely that the master would +come out into the passage to see if he was still there, but it might +happen, and it would be best to run as few risks as possible. + +He sprinted over to the junior block, raised the trap-door, and jumped +down. He knew where the ferrets had been placed, and had no difficulty +in finding them. In another minute he was in the passage again, with +the trap-door bolted behind him. + +He now asked himself--what should he do with them? He must find a safe +place, or his labours would have been in vain. + +Behind the fives-court, he thought, would be the spot. Nobody ever went +there. It meant a run of three hundred yards there and the same +distance back, and there was more than a chance that he might be seen +by one of the Powers. In which case he might find it rather hard to +explain what he was doing in the middle of the grounds with a couple of +ferrets in his possession when the hands of the clock pointed to twenty +minutes to eleven. + +But the odds were against his being seen. He risked it. + +When the bell rang for the quarter to eleven interval the ferrets were +in their new home, happily discussing a piece of meat--Renford's +contribution, held over from the morning's meal,--and O'Hara, looking +as if he had never left the passage for an instant, was making his way +through the departing mathematical class to apologise handsomely to Mr +Banks--as was his invariable custom--for his disgraceful behaviour +during the morning's lesson. + + + + +XIX + +THE MAYOR'S VISIT + + +School prefects at Wrykyn did weekly essays for the headmaster. Those +who had got their scholarships at the 'Varsity, or who were going up in +the following year, used to take their essays to him after school and +read them to him--an unpopular and nerve-destroying practice, akin to +suicide. Trevor had got his scholarship in the previous November. He +was due at the headmaster's private house at six o'clock on the present +Tuesday. He was looking forward to the ordeal not without apprehension. +The essay subject this week had been "One man's meat is another man's +poison", and Clowes, whose idea of English Essay was that it should be +a medium for intempestive frivolity, had insisted on his beginning +with, "While I cannot conscientiously go so far as to say that one +man's meat is another man's poison, yet I am certainly of opinion that +what is highly beneficial to one man may, on the other hand, to another +man, differently constituted, be extremely deleterious, and, indeed, +absolutely fatal." + +Trevor was not at all sure how the headmaster would take it. But Clowes +had seemed so cut up at his suggestion that it had better be omitted, +that he had allowed it to stand. + +He was putting the final polish on this gem of English literature at +half-past five, when Milton came in. + +"Busy?" said Milton. + +Trevor said he would be through in a minute. + +Milton took a chair, and waited. + +Trevor scratched out two words and substituted two others, made a +couple of picturesque blots, and, laying down his pen, announced that +he had finished. + +"What's up?" he said. + +"It's about the League," said Milton. + +"Found out anything?" + +"Not anything much. But I've been making inquiries. You remember I +asked you to let me look at those letters of yours?" + +Trevor nodded. This had happened on the Sunday of that week. + +"Well, I wanted to look at the post-marks." + +"By Jove, I never thought of that." + +Milton continued with the business-like air of the detective who +explains in the last chapter of the book how he did it. + +"I found, as I thought, that both letters came from the same place." + +Trevor pulled out the letters in question. "So they do," he said, +"Chesterton." + +"Do you know Chesterton?" asked Milton. + +"Only by name." + +"It's a small hamlet about two miles from here across the downs. +There's only one shop in the place, which acts as post-office and +tobacconist and everything else. I thought that if I went there and +asked about those letters, they might remember who it was that sent +them, if I showed them a photograph." + +"By Jove," said Trevor, "of course! Did you? What happened?" + +"I went there yesterday afternoon. I took about half-a-dozen +photographs of various chaps, including Rand-Brown." + +"But wait a bit. If Chesterton's two miles off, Rand-Brown couldn't +have sent the letters. He wouldn't have the time after school. He was +on the grounds both the afternoons before I got the letters." + +"I know," said Milton; "I didn't think of that at the time." + +"Well?" + +"One of the points about the Chesterton post-office is that there's no +letter-box outside. You have to go into the shop and hand anything you +want to post across the counter. I thought this was a tremendous score +for me. I thought they would be bound to remember who handed in the +letters. There can't be many at a place like that." + +"Did they remember?" + +"They remembered the letters being given in distinctly, but as for +knowing anything beyond that, they were simply futile. There was an +old woman in the shop, aged about three hundred and ten, I should +think. I shouldn't say she had ever been very intelligent, but now +she simply gibbered. I started off by laying out a shilling on some +poisonous-looking sweets. I gave the lot to a village kid when I got +out. I hope they didn't kill him. Then, having scattered ground-bait +in that way, I lugged out the photographs, mentioned the letters and +the date they had been sent, and asked her to weigh in and identify +the sender." + +"Did she?" + +"My dear chap, she identified them all, one after the other. The first +was one of Clowes. She was prepared to swear on oath that that was the +chap who had sent the letters. Then I shot a photograph of you across +the counter, and doubts began to creep in. She said she was certain it +was one of those two 'la-ads', but couldn't quite say which. To keep +her amused I fired in photograph number three--Allardyce's. She +identified that, too. At the end of ten minutes she was pretty sure +that it was one of the six--the other three were Paget, Clephane, and +Rand-Brown--but she was not going to bind herself down to any +particular one. As I had come to the end of my stock of photographs, +and was getting a bit sick of the game, I got up to go, when in came +another ornament of Chesterton from a room at the back of the shop. He +was quite a kid, not more than a hundred and fifty at the outside, so, +as a last chance, I tackled him on the subject. He looked at the +photographs for about half an hour, mumbling something about it not +being 'thiccy 'un' or 'that 'un', or 'that 'ere tother 'un', until I +began to feel I'd had enough of it. Then it came out that the real chap +who had sent the letters was a 'la-ad' with light hair, not so big as +me--" + +"That doesn't help us much," said Trevor. + +"--And a 'prarper little gennlemun'. So all we've got to do is to look +for some young duke of polished manners and exterior, with a thatch of +light hair." + +"There are three hundred and sixty-seven fellows with light hair in the +school," said Trevor, calmly. + +"Thought it was three hundred and sixty-eight myself," said Milton, +"but I may be wrong. Anyhow, there you have the results of my +investigations. If you can make anything out of them, you're welcome to +it. Good-bye." + +"Half a second," said Trevor, as he got up; "had the fellow a cap of +any sort?" + +"No. Bareheaded. You wouldn't expect him to give himself away by +wearing a house-cap?" + +Trevor went over to the headmaster's revolving this discovery in his +mind. It was not much of a clue, but the smallest clue is better than +nothing. To find out that the sender of the League letters had fair hair +narrowed the search down a little. It cleared the more raven-locked +members of the school, at any rate. Besides, by combining his information +with Milton's, the search might be still further narrowed down. He knew +that the polite letter-writer must be either in Seymour's or in +Donaldson's. The number of fair-haired youths in the two houses was +not excessive. Indeed, at the moment he could not recall any; which +rather complicated matters. + +He arrived at the headmaster's door, and knocked. He was shown into a +room at the side of the hall, near the door. The butler informed him +that the headmaster was engaged at present. Trevor, who knew the butler +slightly through having constantly been to see the headmaster on +business _via_ the front door, asked who was there. + +"Sir Eustace Briggs," said the butler, and disappeared in the direction +of his lair beyond the green baize partition at the end of the hall. + +Trevor went into the room, which was a sort of spare study, and sat +down, wondering what had brought the mayor of Wrykyn to see the +headmaster at this advanced hour. + +A quarter of an hour later the sound of voices broke in upon his peace. +The headmaster was coming down the hall with the intention of showing +his visitor out. The door of Trevor's room was ajar, and he could hear +distinctly what was being said. He had no particular desire to play the +eavesdropper, but the part was forced upon him. + +Sir Eustace seemed excited. + +"It is far from being my habit," he was saying, "to make unnecessary +complaints respecting the conduct of the lads under your care." (Sir +Eustace Briggs had a distaste for the shorter and more colloquial forms +of speech. He would have perished sooner than have substituted +"complain of your boys" for the majestic formula he had used. He spoke +as if he enjoyed choosing his words. He seemed to pause and think +before each word. Unkind people--who were jealous of his distinguished +career--used to say that he did this because he was afraid of dropping +an aitch if he relaxed his vigilance.) + +"But," continued he, "I am reluctantly forced to the unpleasant +conclusion that the dastardly outrage to which both I and the Press of +the town have called your attention is to be attributed to one of the +lads to whom I 'ave--_have_ (this with a jerk) referred." + +"I will make a thorough inquiry, Sir Eustace," said the bass voice of +the headmaster. + +"I thank you," said the mayor. "It would, under the circumstances, be +nothing more, I think, than what is distinctly advisable. The man +Samuel Wapshott, of whose narrative I have recently afforded you a +brief synopsis, stated in no uncertain terms that he found at the foot +of the statue on which the dastardly outrage was perpetrated a +diminutive ornament, in shape like the bats that are used in the game +of cricket. This ornament, he avers (with what truth I know not), was +handed by him to a youth of an age coeval with that of the lads in the +upper division of this school. The youth claimed it as his property, I +was given to understand." + +"A thorough inquiry shall be made, Sir Eustace." + +"I thank you." + +And then the door shut, and the conversation ceased. + + + + +XX + +THE FINDING OF THE BAT + + +Trevor waited till the headmaster had gone back to his library, gave +him five minutes to settle down, and then went in. + +The headmaster looked up inquiringly. + +"My essay, sir," said Trevor. + +"Ah, yes. I had forgotten." + +Trevor opened the notebook and began to read what he had written. He +finished the paragraph which owed its insertion to Clowes, and raced +hurriedly on to the next. To his surprise the flippancy passed +unnoticed, at any rate, verbally. As a rule the headmaster preferred +that quotations from back numbers of _Punch_ should be kept out of +the prefects' English Essays. And he generally said as much. But today +he seemed strangely preoccupied. A split infinitive in paragraph five, +which at other times would have made him sit up in his chair stiff with +horror, elicited no remark. The same immunity was accorded to the +insertion (inspired by Clowes, as usual) of a popular catch phrase in +the last few lines. Trevor finished with the feeling that luck had +favoured him nobly. + +"Yes," said the headmaster, seemingly roused by the silence following +on the conclusion of the essay. "Yes." Then, after a long pause, "Yes," +again. + +Trevor said nothing, but waited for further comment. + +"Yes," said the headmaster once more, "I think that is a very +fair essay. Very fair. It wants a little more--er--not quite so +much--um--yes." + +Trevor made a note in his mind to effect these improvements in future +essays, and was getting up, when the headmaster stopped him. + +"Don't go, Trevor. I wish to speak to you." + +Trevor's first thought was, perhaps naturally, that the bat was going to +be brought into discussion. He was wondering helplessly how he was going +to keep O'Hara and his midnight exploit out of the conversation, when +the headmaster resumed. "An unpleasant thing has happened, Trevor--" + +"Now we're coming to it," thought Trevor. + +"It appears, Trevor, that a considerable amount of smoking has been +going on in the school." + +Trevor breathed freely once more. It was only going to be a mere +conventional smoking row after all. He listened with more enjoyment +as the headmaster, having stopped to turn down the wick of the +reading-lamp which stood on the table at his side, and which had +begun, appropriately enough, to smoke, resumed his discourse. + +"Mr Dexter--" + +Of course, thought Trevor. If there ever was a row in the school, +Dexter was bound to be at the bottom of it. + +"Mr Dexter has just been in to see me. He reported six boys. He +discovered them in the vault beneath the junior block. Two of them were +boys in your house." + +Trevor murmured something wordless, to show that the story interested +him. + +"You knew nothing of this, of course--" + +"No, sir." + +"No. Of course not. It is difficult for the head of a house to know all +that goes on in that house." + +Was this his beastly sarcasm? Trevor asked himself. But he came to the +conclusion that it was not. After all, the head of a house is only +human. He cannot be expected to keep an eye on the private life of +every member of his house. + +"This must be stopped, Trevor. There is no saying how widespread the +practice has become or may become. What I want you to do is to go +straight back to your house and begin a complete search of the +studies." + +"Tonight, sir?" It seemed too late for such amusement. + +"Tonight. But before you go to your house, call at Mr Seymour's, and +tell Milton I should like to see him. And, Trevor." + +"Yes, sir?" + +"You will understand that I am leaving this matter to you to be dealt +with by you. I shall not require you to make any report to me. But if +you should find tobacco in any boy's room, you must punish him well, +Trevor. Punish him well." + +This meant that the culprit must be "touched up" before the house +assembled in the dining-room. Such an event did not often occur. The +last occasion had been in Paget's first term as head of Donaldson's, +when two of the senior day-room had been discovered attempting to +revive the ancient and dishonourable custom of bullying. This time, +Trevor foresaw, would set up a record in all probability. There might +be any number of devotees of the weed, and he meant to carry out his +instructions to the full, and make the criminals more unhappy than they +had been since the day of their first cigar. Trevor hated the habit of +smoking at school. He was so intensely keen on the success of the house +and the school at games, that anything which tended to damage the wind +and eye filled him with loathing. That anybody should dare to smoke in +a house which was going to play in the final for the House Football Cup +made him rage internally, and he proposed to make things bad and +unrestful for such. + +To smoke at school is to insult the divine weed. When you are obliged +to smoke in odd corners, fearing every moment that you will be +discovered, the whole meaning, poetry, romance of a pipe vanishes, and +you become like those lost beings who smoke when they are running to +catch trains. The boy who smokes at school is bound to come to a bad +end. He will degenerate gradually into a person that plays dominoes in +the smoking-rooms of A.B.C. shops with friends who wear bowler hats and +frock coats. + +Much of this philosophy Trevor expounded to Clowes in energetic +language when he returned to Donaldson's after calling at Seymour's to +deliver the message for Milton. + +Clowes became quite animated at the prospect of a real row. + +"We shall be able to see the skeletons in their cupboards," he +observed. "Every man has a skeleton in his cupboard, which follows him +about wherever he goes. Which study shall we go to first?" + +"We?" said Trevor. + +"We," repeated Clowes firmly. "I am not going to be left out of this +jaunt. I need bracing up--I'm not strong, you know--and this is just +the thing to do it. Besides, you'll want a bodyguard of some sort, in +case the infuriated occupant turns and rends you." + +"I don't see what there is to enjoy in the business," said Trevor, +gloomily. "Personally, I bar this kind of thing. By the time we've +finished, there won't be a chap in the house I'm on speaking terms +with." + +"Except me, dearest," said Clowes. "I will never desert you. It's of no +use asking me, for I will never do it. Mr Micawber has his faults, but +I will _never_ desert Mr Micawber." + +"You can come if you like," said Trevor; "we'll take the studies in +order. I suppose we needn't look up the prefects?" + +"A prefect is above suspicion. Scratch the prefects." + +"That brings us to Dixon." + +Dixon was a stout youth with spectacles, who was popularly supposed to +do twenty-two hours' work a day. It was believed that he put in two +hours sleep from eleven to one, and then got up and worked in his study +till breakfast. + +He was working when Clowes and Trevor came in. He dived head foremost +into a huge Liddell and Scott as the door opened. On hearing Trevor's +voice he slowly emerged, and a pair of round and spectacled eyes gazed +blankly at the visitors. Trevor briefly explained his errand, but the +interview lost in solemnity owing to the fact that the bare notion of +Dixon storing tobacco in his room made Clowes roar with laughter. Also, +Dixon stolidly refused to understand what Trevor was talking about, and +at the end of ten minutes, finding it hopeless to try and explain, the +two went. Dixon, with a hazy impression that he had been asked to join +in some sort of round game, and had refused the offer, returned again +to his Liddell and Scott, and continued to wrestle with the somewhat +obscure utterances of the chorus in AEschylus' _Agamemnon_. The +results of this fiasco on Trevor and Clowes were widely different. +Trevor it depressed horribly. It made him feel savage. Clowes, on the +other hand, regarded the whole affair in a spirit of rollicking farce, +and refused to see that this was a serious matter, in which the honour +of the house was involved. + +The next study was Ruthven's. This fact somewhat toned down the +exuberances of Clowes's demeanour. When one particularly dislikes a +person, one has a curious objection to seeming in good spirits in his +presence. One feels that he may take it as a sort of compliment to +himself, or, at any rate, contribute grins of his own, which would be +hateful. Clowes was as grave as Trevor when they entered the study. + +Ruthven's study was like himself, overdressed and rather futile. It ran +to little china ornaments in a good deal of profusion. It was more like +a drawing-room than a school study. + +"Sorry to disturb you, Ruthven," said Trevor. + +"Oh, come in," said Ruthven, in a tired voice. "Please shut the door; +there is a draught. Do you want anything?" + +"We've got to have a look round," said Clowes. + +"Can't you see everything there is?" + +Ruthven hated Clowes as much as Clowes hated him. + +Trevor cut into the conversation again. + +"It's like this, Ruthven," he said. "I'm awfully sorry, but the Old +Man's just told me to search the studies in case any of the fellows +have got baccy." + +Ruthven jumped up, pale with consternation. + +"You can't. I won't have you disturbing my study." + +"This is rot," said Trevor, shortly, "I've got to. It's no good making +it more unpleasant for me than it is." + +"But I've no tobacco. I swear I haven't." + +"Then why mind us searching?" said Clowes affably. + +"Come on, Ruthven," said Trevor, "chuck us over the keys. You might as +well." + +"I won't." + +"Don't be an ass, man." + +"We have here," observed Clowes, in his sad, solemn way, "a stout and +serviceable poker." He stooped, as he spoke, to pick it up. + +"Leave that poker alone," cried Ruthven. + +Clowes straightened himself. + +"I'll swop it for your keys," he said. + +"Don't be a fool." + +"Very well, then. We will now crack our first crib." + +Ruthven sprang forward, but Clowes, handing him off in football fashion +with his left hand, with his right dashed the poker against the lock of +the drawer of the table by which he stood. + +The lock broke with a sharp crack. It was not built with an eye to such +onslaught. + +"Neat for a first shot," said Clowes, complacently. "Now for the +Umustaphas and shag." + +But as he looked into the drawer he uttered a sudden cry of excitement. +He drew something out, and tossed it over to Trevor. + +"Catch, Trevor," he said quietly. "Something that'll interest you." + +Trevor caught it neatly in one hand, and stood staring at it as if he +had never seen anything like it before. And yet he had--often. For what +he had caught was a little golden bat, about an inch long by an eighth +of an inch wide. + + + + +XXI + +THE LEAGUE REVEALED + + +"What do you think of that?" said Clowes. + +Trevor said nothing. He could not quite grasp the situation. It was +not only that he had got the idea so firmly into his head that it +was Rand-Brown who had sent the letters and appropriated the bat. +Even supposing he had not suspected Rand-Brown, he would never have +dreamed of suspecting Ruthven. They had been friends. Not very close +friends--Trevor's keenness for games and Ruthven's dislike of them +prevented that--but a good deal more than acquaintances. He was so +constituted that he could not grasp the frame of mind required for +such an action as Ruthven's. It was something absolutely abnormal. + +Clowes was equally surprised, but for a different reason. It was not so +much the enormity of Ruthven's proceedings that took him aback. He +believed him, with that cheerful intolerance which a certain type of +mind affects, capable of anything. What surprised him was the fact that +Ruthven had had the ingenuity and even the daring to conduct a campaign +of this description. Cribbing in examinations he would have thought the +limit of his crimes. Something backboneless and underhand of that kind +would not have surprised him in the least. He would have said that it +was just about what he had expected all along. But that Ruthven should +blossom out suddenly as quite an ingenious and capable criminal in this +way, was a complete surprise. + +"Well, perhaps _you_'ll make a remark?" he said, turning to +Ruthven. + +Ruthven, looking very much like a passenger on a Channel steamer who +has just discovered that the motion of the vessel is affecting him +unpleasantly, had fallen into a chair when Clowes handed him off. He +sat there with a look on his pasty face which was not good to see, as +silent as Trevor. It seemed that whatever conversation there was going +to be would have to take the form of a soliloquy from Clowes. + +Clowes took a seat on the corner of the table. + +"It seems to me, Ruthven," he said, "that you'd better say +_something_. At present there's a lot that wants explaining. As +this bat has been found lying in your drawer, I suppose we may take it +that you're the impolite letter-writer?" + +Ruthven found his voice at last. + +"I'm not," he cried; "I never wrote a line." + +"Now we're getting at it," said Clowes. "I thought you couldn't have +had it in you to carry this business through on your own. Apparently +you've only been the sleeping partner in this show, though I suppose it +was you who ragged Trevor's study? Not much sleeping about that. You +took over the acting branch of the concern for that day only, I expect. +Was it you who ragged the study?" + +Ruthven stared into the fire, but said nothing. + +"Must be polite, you know, Ruthven, and answer when you're spoken to. +Was it you who ragged Trevor's study?" + +"Yes," said Ruthven. + +"Thought so." + +"Why, of course, I met you just outside," said Trevor, speaking for the +first time. "You were the chap who told me what had happened." + +Ruthven said nothing. + +"The ragging of the study seems to have been all the active work he +did," remarked Clowes. + +"No," said Trevor, "he posted the letters, whether he wrote them or +not. Milton was telling me--you remember? I told you. No, I didn't. +Milton found out that the letters were posted by a small, light-haired +fellow." + +"That's him," said Clowes, as regardless of grammar as the monks of +Rheims, pointing with the poker at Ruthven's immaculate locks. "Well, +you ragged the study and posted the letters. That was all your share. +Am I right in thinking Rand-Brown was the other partner?" + +Silence from Ruthven. + +"Am I?" persisted Clowes. + +"You may think what you like. I don't care." + +"Now we're getting rude again," complained Clowes. "_Was_ Rand-Brown +in this?" + +"Yes," said Ruthven. + +"Thought so. And who else?" + +"No one." + +"Try again." + +"I tell you there was no one else. Can't you believe a word a chap +says?" + +"A word here and there, perhaps," said Clowes, as one making a +concession, "but not many, and this isn't one of them. Have another +shot." + +Ruthven relapsed into silence. + +"All right, then," said Clowes, "we'll accept that statement. There's +just a chance that it may be true. And that's about all, I think. This +isn't my affair at all, really. It's yours, Trevor. I'm only a +spectator and camp-follower. It's your business. You'll find me in my +study." And putting the poker carefully in its place, Clowes left the +room. He went into his study, and tried to begin some work. But the +beauties of the second book of Thucydides failed to appeal to him. His +mind was elsewhere. He felt too excited with what had just happened to +translate Greek. He pulled up a chair in front of the fire, and gave +himself up to speculating how Trevor was getting on in the neighbouring +study. He was glad he had left him to finish the business. If he had +been in Trevor's place, there was nothing he would so greatly have +disliked as to have some one--however familiar a friend--interfering in +his wars and settling them for him. Left to himself, Clowes would +probably have ended the interview by kicking Ruthven into the nearest +approach to pulp compatible with the laws relating to manslaughter. He +had an uneasy suspicion that Trevor would let him down far too easily. + +The handle turned. Trevor came in, and pulled up another chair in +silence. His face wore a look of disgust. But there were no signs of +combat upon him. The toe of his boot was not worn and battered, as +Clowes would have liked to have seen it. Evidently he had not chosen to +adopt active and physical measures for the improvement of Ruthven's +moral well-being. + +"Well?" said Clowes. + +"My word, what a hound!" breathed Trevor, half to himself. + +"My sentiments to a hair," said Clowes, approvingly. "But what have you +done?" + +"I didn't do anything." + +"I was afraid you wouldn't. Did he give any explanation? What made him +go in for the thing at all? What earthly motive could he have for not +wanting Barry to get his colours, bar the fact that Rand-Brown didn't +want him to? And why should he do what Rand-Brown told him? I never even +knew they were pals, before today." + +"He told me a good deal," said Trevor. "It's one of the beastliest +things I ever heard. They neither of them come particularly well out of +the business, but Rand-Brown comes worse out of it even than Ruthven. +My word, that man wants killing." + +"That'll keep," said Clowes, nodding. "What's the yarn?" + +"Do you remember about a year ago a chap named Patterson getting +sacked?" + +Clowes nodded again. He remembered the case well. Patterson had had +gambling transactions with a Wrykyn tradesman, had been found out, and +had gone. + +"You remember what a surprise it was to everybody. It wasn't one of +those cases where half the school suspects what's going on. Those cases +always come out sooner or later. But Patterson nobody knew about." + +"Yes. Well?" + +"Nobody," said Trevor, "except Ruthven, that is. Ruthven got to know +somehow. I believe he was a bit of a pal of Patterson's at the time. +Anyhow,--they had a row, and Ruthven went to Dexter--Patterson was in +Dexter's--and sneaked. Dexter promised to keep his name out of the +business, and went straight to the Old Man, and Patterson got turfed +out on the spot. Then somehow or other Rand-Brown got to know about +it--I believe Ruthven must have told him by accident some time or other. +After that he simply had to do everything Rand-Brown wanted him to. +Otherwise he said that he would tell the chaps about the Patterson +affair. That put Ruthven in a dead funk." + +"Of course," said Clowes; "I should imagine friend Ruthven would have +got rather a bad time of it. But what made them think of starting the +League? It was a jolly smart idea. Rand-Brown's, of course?" + +"Yes. I suppose he'd heard about it, and thought something might be +made out of it if it were revived." + +"And were Ruthven and he the only two in it?" + +"Ruthven swears they were, and I shouldn't wonder if he wasn't telling +the truth, for once in his life. You see, everything the League's done +so far could have been done by him and Rand-Brown, without anybody +else's help. The only other studies that were ragged were Mill's and +Milton's--both in Seymour's. + +"Yes," said Clowes. + +There was a pause. Clowes put another shovelful of coal on the fire. + +"What are you going to do to Ruthven?" + +"Nothing." + +"Nothing? Hang it, he doesn't deserve to get off like that. He isn't as +bad as Rand-Brown--quite--but he's pretty nearly as finished a little +beast as you could find." + +"Finished is just the word," said Trevor. "He's going at the end of the +week." + +"Going? What! sacked?" + +"Yes. The Old Man's been finding out things about him, apparently, and +this smoking row has just added the finishing-touch to his discoveries. +He's particularly keen against smoking just now for some reason." + +"But was Ruthven in it?" + +"Yes. Didn't I tell you? He was one of the fellows Dexter caught in the +vault. There were two in this house, you remember?" + +"Who was the other?" + +"That man Dashwood. Has the study next to Paget's old one. He's going, +too." + +"Scarcely knew him. What sort of a chap was he?" + +"Outsider. No good to the house in any way. He won't be missed." + +"And what are you going to do about Rand-Brown?" + +"Fight him, of course. What else could I do?" + +"But you're no match for him." + +"We'll see." + +"But you _aren't_," persisted Clowes. "He can give you a stone +easily, and he's not a bad boxer either. Moriarty didn't beat him so +very cheaply in the middle-weight this year. You wouldn't have a +chance." + +Trevor flared up. + +"Heavens, man," he cried, "do you think I don't know all that myself? +But what on earth would you have me do? Besides, he may be a good +boxer, but he's got no pluck at all. I might outstay him." + +"Hope so," said Clowes. + +But his tone was not hopeful. + + + + +XXII + +A DRESS REHEARSAL + + +Some people in Trevor's place might have taken the earliest opportunity +of confronting Rand-Brown, so as to settle the matter in hand without +delay. Trevor thought of doing this, but finally decided to let the +matter rest for a day, until he should have found out with some +accuracy what chance he stood. + +After four o'clock, therefore, on the next day, having had tea in his +study, he went across to the baths, in search of O'Hara. He intended +that before the evening was over the Irishman should have imparted to +him some of his skill with the hands. He did not know that for a man +absolutely unscientific with his fists there is nothing so fatal as to +take a boxing lesson on the eve of battle. A little knowledge is a +dangerous thing. He is apt to lose his recklessness--which might have +stood by him well--in exchange for a little quite useless science. He +is neither one thing nor the other, neither a natural fighter nor a +skilful boxer. + +This point O'Hara endeavoured to press upon him as soon as he had +explained why it was that he wanted coaching on this particular +afternoon. + +The Irishman was in the gymnasium, punching the ball, when Trevor found +him. He generally put in a quarter of an hour with the punching-ball +every evening, before Moriarty turned up for the customary six rounds. + +"Want me to teach ye a few tricks?" he said. "What's that for?" + +"I've got a mill coming on soon," explained Trevor, trying to make the +statement as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world for a +school prefect, who was also captain of football, head of a house, and +in the cricket eleven, to be engaged for a fight in the near future. + +"Mill!" exclaimed O'Hara. "You! An' why?" + +"Never mind why," said Trevor. "I'll tell you afterwards, perhaps. +Shall I put on the gloves now?" + +"Wait," said O'Hara, "I must do my quarter of an hour with the ball +before I begin teaching other people how to box. Have ye a watch?" + +"Yes." + +"Then time me. I'll do four rounds of three minutes each, with a +minute's rest in between. That's more than I'll do at Aldershot, but +it'll get me fit. Ready?" + +"Time," said Trevor. + +He watched O'Hara assailing the swinging ball with considerable envy. +Why, he wondered, had he not gone in for boxing? Everybody ought to +learn to box. It was bound to come in useful some time or other. Take +his own case. He was very much afraid--no, afraid was not the right +word, for he was not that. He was very much of opinion that Rand-Brown +was going to have a most enjoyable time when they met. And the final +house-match was to be played next Monday. If events turned out as he +could not help feeling they were likely to turn out, he would be too +battered to play in that match. Donaldson's would probably win whether +he played or not, but it would be bitter to be laid up on such an +occasion. On the other hand, he must go through with it. He did not +believe in letting other people take a hand in settling his private +quarrels. + +But he wished he had learned to box. If only he could hit that dancing, +jumping ball with a fifth of the skill that O'Hara was displaying, his +wiriness and pluck might see him through. O'Hara finished his fourth +round with his leathern opponent, and sat down, panting. + +"Pretty useful, that," commented Trevor, admiringly. + +"Ye should see Moriarty," gasped O'Hara. + +"Now, will ye tell me why it is you're going to fight, and with whom +you're going to fight?" + +"Very well. It's with Rand-Brown." + +"Rand-Brown!" exclaimed O'Hara. "But, me dearr man, he'll ate you." + +Trevor gave a rather annoyed laugh. "I must say I've got a nice, +cheery, comforting lot of friends," he said. "That's just what Clowes +has been trying to explain to me." + +"Clowes is quite right," said O'Hara, seriously. "Has the thing gone +too far for ye to back out? Without climbing down, of course," he +added. + +"Yes," said Trevor, "there's no question of my getting out of it. I +daresay I could. In fact, I know I could. But I'm not going to." + +"But, me dearr man, ye haven't an earthly chance. I assure ye ye +haven't. I've seen Rand-Brown with the gloves on. That was last term. +He's not put them on since Moriarty bate him in the middles, so he may +be out of practice. But even then he'd be a bad man to tackle. He's big +an' he's strong, an' if he'd only had the heart in him he'd have been +going up to Aldershot instead of Moriarty. That's what he'd be doing. +An' you can't box at all. Never even had the gloves on." + +"Never. I used to scrap when I was a kid, though." + +"That's no use," said O'Hara, decidedly. "But you haven't said what it +is that ye've got against Rand-Brown. What is it?" + +"I don't see why I shouldn't tell you. You're in it as well. In fact, +if it hadn't been for the bat turning up, you'd have been considerably +more in it than I am." + +"What!" cried O'Hara. "Where did you find it? Was it in the grounds? +When was it you found it?" + +Whereupon Trevor gave him a very full and exact account of what had +happened. He showed him the two letters from the League, touched on +Milton's connection with the affair, traced the gradual development of +his suspicions, and described with some approach to excitement the +scene in Ruthven's study, and the explanations that had followed it. + +"Now do you wonder," he concluded, "that I feel as if a few rounds with +Rand-Brown would do me good." + +O'Hara breathed hard. + +"My word!" he said, "I'd like to see ye kill him." + +"But," said Trevor, "as you and Clowes have been pointing out to me, if +there's going to be a corpse, it'll be me. However, I mean to try. Now +perhaps you wouldn't mind showing me a few tricks." + +"Take my advice," said O'Hara, "and don't try any of that foolery." + +"Why, I thought you were such a believer in science," said Trevor in +surprise. + +"So I am, if you've enough of it. But it's the worst thing ye can do to +learn a trick or two just before a fight, if you don't know anything +about the game already. A tough, rushing fighter is ten times as good +as a man who's just begun to learn what he oughtn't to do." + +"Well, what do you advise me to do, then?" asked Trevor, impressed by +the unwonted earnestness with which the Irishman delivered this +pugilistic homily, which was a paraphrase of the views dinned into the +ears of every novice by the school instructor. + +"I must do something." + +"The best thing ye can do," said O'Hara, thinking for a moment, "is to +put on the gloves and have a round or two with me. Here's Moriarty at +last. We'll get him to time us." + +As much explanation as was thought good for him having been given to +the newcomer, to account for Trevor's newly-acquired taste for things +pugilistic, Moriarty took the watch, with instructions to give them two +minutes for the first round. + +"Go as hard as you can," said O'Hara to Trevor, as they faced one +another, "and hit as hard as you like. It won't be any practice if you +don't. I sha'n't mind being hit. It'll do me good for Aldershot. See?" + +Trevor said he saw. + +"Time," said Moriarty. + +Trevor went in with a will. He was a little shy at first of putting all +his weight into his blows. It was hard to forget that he felt friendly +towards O'Hara. But he speedily awoke to the fact that the Irishman +took his boxing very seriously, and was quite a different person when +he had the gloves on. When he was so equipped, the man opposite him +ceased to be either friend or foe in a private way. He was simply an +opponent, and every time he hit him was one point. And, when he entered +the ring, his only object in life for the next three minutes was to +score points. Consequently Trevor, sparring lightly and in rather a +futile manner at first, was woken up by a stinging flush hit between +the eyes. After that he, too, forgot that he liked the man before him, +and rushed him in all directions. There was no doubt as to who would +have won if it had been a competition. Trevor's guard was of the most +rudimentary order, and O'Hara got through when and how he liked. But +though he took a good deal, he also gave a good deal, and O'Hara +confessed himself not altogether sorry when Moriarty called "Time". + +"Man," he said regretfully, "why ever did ye not take up boxing before? +Ye'd have made a splendid middle-weight." + +"Well, have I a chance, do you think?" inquired Trevor. + +"Ye might do it with luck," said O'Hara, very doubtfully. "But," he +added, "I'm afraid ye've not much chance." + +And with this poor encouragement from his trainer and sparring-partner, +Trevor was forced to be content. + + + + +XXIII + +WHAT RENFORD SAW + + +The health of Master Harvey of Seymour's was so delicately constituted +that it was an absolute necessity that he should consume one or more +hot buns during the quarter of an hour's interval which split up +morning school. He was tearing across the junior gravel towards the +shop on the morning following Trevor's sparring practice with O'Hara, +when a melodious treble voice called his name. It was Renford. He +stopped, to allow his friend to come up with him, and then made as if +to resume his way to the shop. But Renford proposed an amendment. +"Don't go to the shop," he said, "I want to talk." + +"Well, can't you talk in the shop?" + +"Not what I want to tell you. It's private. Come for a stroll." + +Harvey hesitated. There were few things he enjoyed so much as exclusive +items of school gossip (scandal preferably), but hot new buns were +among those few things. However, he decided on this occasion to feed +the mind at the expense of the body. He accepted Renford's invitation. + + +"What is it?" he asked, as they made for the football field. "What's +been happening?" + +"It's frightfully exciting," said Renford. + +"What's up?" + +"You mustn't tell any one." + +"All right. Of course not." + +"Well, then, there's been a big fight, and I'm one of the only chaps +who know about it so far." + +"A fight?" Harvey became excited. "Who between?" + +Renford paused before delivering his news, to emphasise the importance +of it. + +"It was between O'Hara and Rand-Brown," he said at length. + +"_By Jove!_" said Harvey. Then a suspicion crept into his mind. + +"Look here, Renford," he said, "if you're trying to green me--" + +"I'm not, you ass," replied Renford indignantly. "It's perfectly true. +I saw it myself." + +"By Jove, did you really? Where was it? When did it come off? Was it a +good one? Who won?" + +"It was the best one I've ever seen." + +"Did O'Hara beat him? I hope he did. O'Hara's a jolly good sort." + +"Yes. They had six rounds. Rand-Brown got knocked out in the middle of +the sixth." + +"What, do you mean really knocked out, or did he just chuck it?" + +"No. He was really knocked out. He was on the floor for quite a time. +By Jove, you should have seen it. O'Hara was ripping in the sixth +round. He was all over him." + +"Tell us about it," said Harvey, and Renford told. + +"I'd got up early," he said, "to feed the ferrets, and I was just +cutting over to the fives-courts with their grub, when, just as I got +across the senior gravel, I saw O'Hara and Moriarty standing waiting +near the second court. O'Hara knows all about the ferrets, so I didn't +try and cut or anything. I went up and began talking to him. I noticed +he didn't look particularly keen on seeing me at first. I asked him if +he was going to play fives. Then he said no, and told me what he'd +really come for. He said he and Rand-Brown had had a row, and they'd +agreed to have it out that morning in one of the fives-courts. Of +course, when I heard that, I was all on to see it, so I said I'd wait, +if he didn't mind. He said he didn't care, so long as I didn't tell +everybody, so I said I wouldn't tell anybody except you, so he said all +right, then, I could stop if I wanted to. So that was how I saw it. +Well, after we'd been waiting a few minutes, Rand-Brown came in sight, +with that beast Merrett in our house, who'd come to second him. It was +just like one of those duels you read about, you know. Then O'Hara said +that as I was the only one there with a watch--he and Rand-Brown were +in footer clothes, and Merrett and Moriarty hadn't got their tickers on +them--I'd better act as timekeeper. So I said all right, I would, and +we went to the second fives-court. It's the biggest of them, you know. +I stood outside on the bench, looking through the wire netting over the +door, so as not to be in the way when they started scrapping. O'Hara +and Rand-Brown took off their blazers and sweaters, and chucked them to +Moriarty and Merrett, and then Moriarty and Merrett went and stood in +two corners, and O'Hara and Rand-Brown walked into the middle and stood +up to one another. Rand-Brown was miles the heaviest--by a stone, I +should think--and he was taller and had a longer reach. But O'Hara +looked much fitter. Rand-Brown looked rather flabby. + +"I sang out 'Time' through the wire netting, and they started off at +once. O'Hara offered to shake hands, but Rand-Brown wouldn't. So they +began without it. + +"The first round was awfully fast. They kept having long rallies all +over the place. O'Hara was a jolly sight quicker, and Rand-Brown didn't +seem able to guard his hits at all. But he hit frightfully hard +himself, great, heavy slogs, and O'Hara kept getting them in the face. +At last he got one bang in the mouth which knocked him down flat. He +was up again in a second, and was starting to rush, when I looked at +the watch, and found that I'd given them nearly half a minute too much +already. So I shouted 'Time', and made up my mind I'd keep more of an +eye on the watch next round. I'd got so jolly excited, watching them, +that I'd forgot I was supposed to be keeping time for them. They had +only asked for a minute between the rounds, but as I'd given them half +a minute too long in the first round, I chucked in a bit extra in the +rest, so that they were both pretty fit by the time I started them +again. + +"The second round was just like the first, and so was the third. O'Hara +kept getting the worst of it. He was knocked down three or four times +more, and once, when he'd rushed Rand-Brown against one of the walls, +he hit out and missed, and barked his knuckles jolly badly against the +wall. That was in the middle of the third round, and Rand-Brown had it +all his own way for the rest of the round--for about two minutes, that +is to say. He hit O'Hara about all over the shop. I was so jolly keen +on O'Hara's winning, that I had half a mind to call time early, so as +to give him time to recover. But I thought it would be a low thing to +do, so I gave them their full three minutes. + +"Directly they began the fourth round, I noticed that things were going +to change a bit. O'Hara had given up his rushing game, and was waiting +for his man, and when he came at him he'd put in a hot counter, nearly +always at the body. After a bit Rand-Brown began to get cautious, and +wouldn't rush, so the fourth round was the quietest there had been. In +the last minute they didn't hit each other at all. They simply sparred +for openings. It was in the fifth round that O'Hara began to forge +ahead. About half way through he got in a ripper, right in the wind, +which almost doubled Rand-Brown up, and then he started rushing again. +Rand-Brown looked awfully bad at the end of the round. Round six was +ripping. I never saw two chaps go for each other so. It was one long +rally. Then--how it happened I couldn't see, they were so quick--just +as they had been at it a minute and a half, there was a crack, and the +next thing I saw was Rand-Brown on the ground, looking beastly. He went +down absolutely flat; his heels and head touched the ground at the same +time. + + +"I counted ten out loud in the professional way like they do at the +National Sporting Club, you know, and then said 'O'Hara wins'. I felt +an awful swell. After about another half-minute, Rand-Brown was all +right again, and he got up and went back to the house with Merrett, and +O'Hara and Moriarty went off to Dexter's, and I gave the ferrets their +grub, and cut back to breakfast." + +"Rand-Brown wasn't at breakfast," said Harvey. + +"No. He went to bed. I wonder what'll happen. Think there'll be a row +about it?" + +"Shouldn't think so," said Harvey. "They never do make rows about +fights, and neither of them is a prefect, so I don't see what it +matters if they _do_ fight. But, I say--" + +"What's up?" + +"I wish," said Harvey, his voice full of acute regret, "that it had +been my turn to feed those ferrets." + +"I don't," said Renford cheerfully. "I wouldn't have missed that mill +for something. Hullo, there's the bell. We'd better run." + +When Trevor called at Seymour's that afternoon to see Rand-Brown, with +a view to challenging him to deadly combat, and found that O'Hara had +been before him, he ought to have felt relieved. His actual feeling was +one of acute annoyance. It seemed to him that O'Hara had exceeded the +limits of friendship. It was all very well for him to take over the +Rand-Brown contract, and settle it himself, in order to save Trevor +from a very bad quarter of an hour, but Trevor was one of those people +who object strongly to the interference of other people in their +private business. He sought out O'Hara and complained. Within two +minutes O'Hara's golden eloquence had soothed him and made him view the +matter in quite a different light. What O'Hara pointed out was that it +was not Trevor's affair at all, but his own. Who, he asked, had been +likely to be damaged most by Rand-Brown's manoeuvres in connection with +the lost bat? Trevor was bound to admit that O'Hara was that person. +Very well, then, said O'Hara, then who had a better right to fight +Rand-Brown? And Trevor confessed that no one else had a better. + +"Then I suppose," he said, "that I shall have to do nothing about it?" + +"That's it," said O'Hara. + +"It'll be rather beastly meeting the man after this," said Trevor, +presently. "Do you think he might possibly leave at the end of term?" + +"He's leaving at the end of the week," said O'Hara. "He was one of the +fellows Dexter caught in the vault that evening. You won't see much +more of Rand-Brown." + +"I'll try and put up with that," said Trevor. + +"And so will I," replied O'Hara. "And I shouldn't think Milton would be +so very grieved." + +"No," said Trevor. "I tell you what will make him sick, though, and +that is your having milled with Rand-Brown. It's a job he'd have liked +to have taken on himself." + + + + +XXIV + +CONCLUSION + + +Into the story at this point comes the narrative of Charles Mereweather +Cook, aged fourteen, a day-boy. + +Cook arrived at the school on the tenth of March, at precisely nine +o'clock, in a state of excitement. + +He said there was a row on in the town. + +Cross-examined, he said there was no end of a row on in the town. + +During morning school he explained further, whispering his tale into +the attentive ear of Knight of the School House, who sat next to him. + +What sort of a row, Knight wanted to know. + +Cook deposed that he had been riding on his bicycle past the entrance +to the Recreation Grounds on his way to school, when his eye was +attracted by the movements of a mass of men just inside the gate. They +appeared to be fighting. Witness did not stop to watch, much as he +would have liked to do so. Why not? Why, because he was late already, +and would have had to scorch anyhow, in order to get to school in time. +And he had been late the day before, and was afraid that old Appleby +(the master of the form) would give him beans if he were late again. +Wherefore he had no notion of what the men were fighting about, but he +betted that more would be heard about it. Why? Because, from what he +saw of it, it seemed a jolly big thing. There must have been quite +three hundred men fighting. (Knight, satirically, "_Pile_ it on!") +Well, quite a hundred, anyhow. Fifty a side. And fighting like +anything. He betted there would be something about it in the +_Wrykyn_ _Patriot_ tomorrow. He shouldn't wonder if somebody +had been killed. What were they scrapping about? How should _he_ +know! + +Here Mr Appleby, who had been trying for the last five minutes to find +out where the whispering noise came from, at length traced it to its +source, and forthwith requested Messrs Cook and Knight to do him two +hundred lines, adding that, if he heard them talking again, he would +put them into the extra lesson. Silence reigned from that moment. + +Next day, while the form was wrestling with the moderately exciting +account of Caesar's doings in Gaul, Master Cook produced from his +pocket a newspaper cutting. This, having previously planted a forcible +blow in his friend's ribs with an elbow to attract the latter's +attention, he handed to Knight, and in dumb show requested him to +peruse the same. Which Knight, feeling no interest whatever in Caesar's +doings in Gaul, and having, in consequence, a good deal of time on his +hands, proceeded to do. The cutting was headed "Disgraceful Fracas", +and was written in the elegant style that was always so marked a +feature of the _Wrykyn Patriot_. + +"We are sorry to have to report," it ran, "another of those deplorable +ebullitions of local Hooliganism, to which it has before now been our +painful duty to refer. Yesterday the Recreation Grounds were made the +scene of as brutal an exhibition of savagery as has ever marred the +fair fame of this town. Our readers will remember how on a previous +occasion, when the fine statue of Sir Eustace Briggs was found covered +with tar, we attributed the act to the malevolence of the Radical +section of the community. Events have proved that we were right. +Yesterday a body of youths, belonging to the rival party, was +discovered in the very act of repeating the offence. A thick coating of +tar had already been administered, when several members of the rival +faction appeared. A free fight of a peculiarly violent nature +immediately ensued, with the result that, before the police could +interfere, several of the combatants had received severe bruises. +Fortunately the police then arrived on the scene, and with great +difficulty succeeded in putting a stop to the _fracas_. Several +arrests were made. + +"We have no desire to discourage legitimate party rivalry, but we feel +justified in strongly protesting against such dastardly tricks as those +to which we have referred. We can assure our opponents that they can +gain nothing by such conduct." + +There was a good deal more to the effect that now was the time for all +good men to come to the aid of the party, and that the constituents of +Sir Eustace Briggs must look to it that they failed not in the hour of +need, and so on. That was what the _Wrykyn Patriot_ had to say on +the subject. + +O'Hara managed to get hold of a copy of the paper, and showed it to +Clowes and Trevor. + +"So now," he said, "it's all right, ye see. They'll never suspect it +wasn't the same people that tarred the statue both times. An' ye've got +the bat back, so it's all right, ye see." + +"The only thing that'll trouble you now," said Clowes, "will be your +conscience." + +O'Hara intimated that he would try and put up with that. + +"But isn't it a stroke of luck," he said, "that they should have gone +and tarred Sir Eustace again so soon after Moriarty and I did it?" + +Clowes said gravely that it only showed the force of good example. + +"Yes. They wouldn't have thought of it, if it hadn't been for us," +chortled O'Hara. "I wonder, now, if there's anything else we could do +to that statue!" he added, meditatively. + +"My good lunatic," said Clowes, "don't you think you've done almost +enough for one term?" + +"Well, 'myes," replied O'Hara thoughtfully, "perhaps we have, I +suppose." + + * * * * * + +The term wore on. Donaldson's won the final house-match by a matter of +twenty-six points. It was, as they had expected, one of the easiest +games they had had to play in the competition. Bryant's, who were their +opponents, were not strong, and had only managed to get into the final +owing to their luck in drawing weak opponents for the trial heats. The +real final, that had decided the ownership of the cup, had been +Donaldson's _v._ Seymour's. + +Aldershot arrived, and the sports. Drummond and O'Hara covered +themselves with glory, and brought home silver medals. But Moriarty, to +the disappointment of the school, which had counted on his pulling off +the middles, met a strenuous gentleman from St Paul's in the final, and +was prematurely outed in the first minute of the third round. To him, +therefore, there fell but a medal of bronze. + +It was on the Sunday after the sports that Trevor's connection with the +bat ceased--as far, that is to say, as concerned its unpleasant +character (as a piece of evidence that might be used to his +disadvantage). He had gone to supper with the headmaster, accompanied +by Clowes and Milton. The headmaster nearly always invited a few of the +house prefects to Sunday supper during the term. Sir Eustace Briggs +happened to be there. He had withdrawn his insinuations concerning the +part supposedly played by a member of the school in the matter of the +tarred statue, and the headmaster had sealed the _entente +cordiale_ by asking him to supper. + +An ordinary man might have considered it best to keep off the delicate +subject. Not so Sir Eustace Briggs. He was on to it like glue. He +talked of little else throughout the whole course of the meal. + +"My suspicions," he boomed, towards the conclusion of the feast, "which +have, I am rejoiced to say, proved so entirely void of foundation and +significance, were aroused in the first instance, as I mentioned +before, by the narrative of the man Samuel Wapshott." + +Nobody present showed the slightest desire to learn what the man Samuel +Wapshott had had to say for himself, but Sir Eustace, undismayed, +continued as if the whole table were hanging on his words. + +"The man Samuel Wapshott," he said, "distinctly asserted that a small +gold ornament, shaped like a bat, was handed by him to a lad of age +coeval with these lads here." + +The headmaster interposed. He had evidently heard more than enough of +the man Samuel Wapshott. + +"He must have been mistaken," he said briefly. "The bat which Trevor is +wearing on his watch-chain at this moment is the only one of its kind +that I know of. You have never lost it, Trevor?" + +Trevor thought for a moment. _He_ had never lost it. He replied +diplomatically, "It has been in a drawer nearly all the term, sir," he +said. + +"A drawer, hey?" remarked Sir Eustace Briggs. "Ah! A very sensible +place to keep it in, my boy. You could have no better place, in my +opinion." + +And Trevor agreed with him, with the mental reservation +that it rather depended on whom the drawer belonged to. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Gold Bat, by P. G. Wodehouse + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GOLD BAT *** + +This file should be named gldbt10.txt or gldbt10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, gldbt11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, gldbt10a.txt + +Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our Web sites at: +http://gutenberg.net or +http://promo.net/pg + +These Web sites include award-winning information about Project +Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new +eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!). + + +Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement +can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03 or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03 + +Or /etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text +files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ +We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks! +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated): + +eBooks Year Month + + 1 1971 July + 10 1991 January + 100 1994 January + 1000 1997 August + 1500 1998 October + 2000 1999 December + 2500 2000 December + 3000 2001 November + 4000 2001 October/November + 6000 2002 December* + 9000 2003 November* +10000 2004 January* + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people +and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, +Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, +Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New +Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, +Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South +Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West +Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. + +We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list +will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states. +Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally +request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and +you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, +just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are +not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting +donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to +donate. + +International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about +how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made +deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are +ways. + +Donations by check or money order may be sent to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Ave. +Oxford, MS 38655-4109 + +Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment +method other than by check or money order. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by +the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN +[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are +tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising +requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be +made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information online at: + +http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the eBook (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only +when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by +Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be +used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be +they hardware or software or any other related product without +express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + |