'Poor, dear Dick!' said the lady with a sigh; 'I am sure he never intended to do us any harm.'
'I never thought he did. No one who knew Dick would think that of him; but the misery came to us all the same, and Dick was responsible for it.'
This allusion to her brother brought the tears to Mrs. Morrison's eyes. He had been such a bright, winning lad. When he was the age of Leonard he had only one fault that she would admit, even now, and that was that he was too easily led. He could not say 'No,' though not to say it and abide by it under the circumstances was wrong. This ended at lastin what was little less than a crime, for which they had to pay the penalty in a long struggle against adverse circumstances, and eventually to leave Liverpool, and return to Mr. Morrison's native town and begin the world afresh.
This ending to what might have been a bright and honourable career for her brother, and a no less prosperous one for her husband, was a very bitter trial to the lady; and though Dr. Morrison's practice was now steadily increasing, anything that rendered him less popular might bring back the old trouble she feared.
In thinking thus she, of course, exaggerated the circumstances in every way, for, in point of fact, not even Mrs. Howard knew that it was through the doctor's influence that Horace was sent to the same school with his own son; and as the name of Morrison was not mentioned by Horace, she did not know that he was there for some time. Her son was industrious and fond of scientific study, and had fairly won the scholarship, she was assured by the schoolmaster. He was very proud to add that Horace was the first scholarship boy who had been sent by the County Council to Torrington's. But that her doctor had had anything to do with the selection of a school for Horace she knew nothing.
She heard afterwards that it was the bestschool in the county; but she thought more of whether Horace would be able to do the lessons required of him, without overworking himself, and also whether she would be able to keep him suitably clothed, so that he did not look particular among the other lads.
The school was nearly two miles from their home, so that he would wear out his boots very fast, she reflected, when considering ways and means. There was a small allowance made for this, after the school fees were paid out of the scholarship money, and it was the consideration of this that made Horace resume wearing the old jacket, when his mother wished him to keep on with his best one, which he had worn for the first week or two.
In fact, he had worn the best jacket until he was so mysteriously sent to Coventry, and though he carefully kept this fact to himself, it was the underlying meaning of what he told her when he said it would make no difference to him at school whether he wore a new or an old jacket.
Of the bitterness underlying the words that were said, that she should not spend too much on his clothes, she knew nothing. Indeed, after the first week or two Horace was very reticent about what passed at school, rarely mentioned a schoolfellow by name, and seemed absorbed in his lessons all the evening. He talked sometimes to Fred about his mysterious idea, which she knew was connected with chemistry; but beyond this she knew very little of her boy's life at this time. Sometimes he looked worried as he sat poring over his books, as though they were a little beyond his power, she thought; and then she would say, 'Now, Horace, if you are getting tired, give it up. You know going to this school is quite an experiment for you, and if you fail to keep up with the rest it will be no disgrace to own it. You have been looking pale the last day or two.'
'I feel quite well, mother; and as to keeping up with the rest, well, you should see the young giant who is always at the bottom of the class.' And Horace laughed as he mentally recalled the perpetually yawning figure of Curtis, with his back propped against the wall. 'I believe he would go to sleep outright if it wasn't for the master saying, "Now, Curtis, keep your ears and eyes open!"'
'Poor fellow! perhaps he does not feel able to do the work,' said Mrs. Howard pityingly.
'Well, he doesn't let lessons trouble him much. He and "the cock of the walk," that's another big chap who doesn't care much about books, they take it pretty easy, except when they get an "impot," and that takes all their dinner time.'
'And what do you do at dinner time?' asked his brother at this point.
'Eat my dinner, to be sure,' answered Horace.
'Well, you don't look much the better for it. Mother, I'm going to be paid an extra shilling a week, and I vote it goes in dinners for the boy with an idea,' said Fred.
'No! No! I can do very well, and I enjoy my dinner hours now, for I often go up to the "lab.," and have a nice time to myself. Mr. Skeats told me I might go, if I did not take any of the other boys with me. You see, some of them might get up to larks, and——'
'Why don't you get up to larks?' interrupted his brother.
Horace laughed, 'Oh, you know that isn't much in my way, and there's room for everybody in a big school like Torrington's.'
'I wish the youngster did not look so serious,' said Fred, after his brother had gone to bed that night.
'He always was quiet,' remarked his mother.
'Quiet, yes; but now he looks up from his book sometimes, as though he had a world of care upon his mind.'
'Perhaps he is thinking over his "idea." You know he could talk of nothing else for a day or two,' said Mrs. Howard.
'Well, he doesn't talk much now, at any rate, and I am wondering whether he is quite happy at that school.'
'But surely he would tell us if he was not. I have asked him again and again. I think he would tell us if there was anything wrong.'
'Now, mother, don't vex yourself, or I shall be sorry I have spoken. Just let that extra shilling a week I am to have go for the youngster's mid-day meal. Get him something better than bread and butter to take with him—sandwiches or a little meat-pie. They say people who work with their brains want as much to eat as those who work with their hands, and I am sure two slices of bread and butter wouldn't satisfy me at twelve o'clock.'
'Mother, I think I shall be obliged to wear that other jacket to go to school,' said Horace one evening as he ate his dinner.
He had come home from school looking almost radiant, and his mother had heard incidentally that one of the other boys had walked most of the way with him.
'But I thought you said no one lived this way?' said Mrs. Howard.
'Oh, I think Warren came out of his way a bit that we might finish our talk! He likes history awfully, and so do I a bit, and we got talking about those old battles, and almost forgot the time. Now, mother, don't you think I had better take my best jacket for school? The sleeves of this are getting so short.'
His mother laughed.
'Why, I told you the same thing a month ago,' she said, 'but you insisted that it did not matter!'
'Well, you know, I don't want to cost you more than I am obliged for clothes, and I thought I might wear the old jacket a bit longer, as I should wear out so many boots; but now——' And there Horace stopped, lest he should say something that might betray how his schoolfellows had treated him lately.
'You must be careful to wear the linen apron and sleeves while you do your chemistry work,' remarked his mother, 'for you are beginning to make the old one a variegated colour.'
'All right, I'll be careful; but I thought Warren looked at my hands poking too far through the sleeves of that old one, and Warren is a nice fellow; I should not like to hurt his feelings,' said Horace.
'Ah! you find that some lads are more particular about their clothes than you are. Yes, wear the best jacket by all means, and I have no doubt I shall be able to buy you a new one when you want it.'
So the matter was settled, and the next morning he met his new friend as they had arranged, and the two boys had a pleasant chat on all sorts of subjects as they walked along the road. Just before the school was reached, and when they came within sight of other groups of boys, Horace stopped short, and said—
'Now you had better go on; it don't matter if I am late, I have plenty of time in the dinner hour to do the imposition.'
'What do you mean—what do you take me for?' said Warren, thrusting his arm through his companion's.
'Well, you know the school have sent me to Coventry lately; and if you know what for, it's more than I do, so that it isn't likely to alter its opinion in a hurry,' said Horace.
'Oh, the school be bothered!' said Warren. 'Of course a fellow has to do the same as the rest when he is at school, but "the cock of the walk" is going a bit too far this time, and I mean to let the whole lot see that I won't follow the lead, when I don't think it's fair and square. If they had any good reason for sending you to Coventry, I'd see you hanged before I'd try to take your part; but I like fair play, and it is not a fair game they are playing against you now.'
'But suppose they send you to Coventry as well?' said Horace.
'Oh, they will, you bet. Taylor and Curtis and that crowd are sure to do it, and I dare say they will rage like a bull in a china shop. Come on here. They see we are going in arm-in-arm.'
A storm of hisses greeted their appearance at the school gate, and Horace changed colourand his arm shook; but Warren gripped him the tighter, so that he could not get away.
'Is it worth while sticking to me if the rest don't like it?' whispered Horace.
'Is anything worth fighting for as those old Englishmen fought in the Civil War—Hampden and that lot?' Warren's face was flaming, and he held his head high, as he led Horace through the hooting crowd of boys, while he asked this question loud enough for any of them to hear.
Horace did not answer. He almost wished Warren would leave him alone. But this was not that gentleman's way. 'I tell you what it is, Howard,' he said, when they had reached the comparative shelter of the playground, where the hooting had to cease, for fear the master should insist upon knowing what it was about. 'I have been thinking a lot of what we were talking about last night, and it's my opinion that there would not be so many tyrants in the world if they did not find easy victims. You knuckled under to "the cock of the walk" at the first touch, when you ought to have said, "Now, what do you mean by sending me to Coventry? What rule of the school have I broken?"'
'Ah, but you know we are not rich people. I am only a scholarship boy, and come from a board school.'
'As if I didn't know that. As if my pater has not told me a dozen times lately that he wishes he had sent me to a board school when I was young. Bless you, we are not rich. My father is only a doctor, like Morrison's, and there are swarms and swarms of children in the nursery, so you may know we haven't got money to roll in, like Curtis. No, old fellow, we are two poor boys, and so we'll just stand shoulder to shoulder, and fight the lot, if they want to fight us. Now mind, you've got to fight for me, and I'll fight for you; and we'll let 'em see what two can do, if nobody else joins us. Little Morrison will, though I think Taylor has led him a dog's life lately; and so I should think he would be glad enough to cut that shop, and join Howard and Co.'
Horace laughed as he had not done since he had been at Torrington's. He was ready enough to fight for his new friend, and when one or two tried to hustle them apart as they were going to school, he did not hesitate to push one of them off, when he was crowding down upon Warren.
The boy turned and scowled at Horace. 'Who are you?' he demanded angrily.
'The scholarship boy, and this is my friend,' he said, still holding on to Warren, and dealing some sharp thrusts at those who were trying to push between them. Therecould be no great demonstration here in the lobby of the school, or the masters would want to know what the quarrel was about.
At dinner time there was little opportunity for the new friends to meet, for the science master, if he did not know, shrewdly guessed the attitude taken by the rest of the class towards the scholarship boy, and so had contrived to find something for him to do in the chemistry laboratory during the recess; and Horace was only too glad of the change to do a little extra practical work towards the elucidation of his idea, which grew all the more interesting, as he saw it would need great care and industry to arrive at the result.
But when afternoon school was over Warren waited about until Horace appeared, and then he said, 'Just go on a little way, while I speak to Morrison. I want him to come with us, for I know that "cock of the walk" is bullying him, and if he'll just join us we shall be three to the other lot. Little Morrison isn't a bad sort of fellow, when you can get him to make up his mind, and the Curtis lot are getting a deal too cocky.'
So Horace walked on to the corner of the road, and Warren waited for Leonard; but the moment Taylor saw him speak to the ladhe pounced down upon him. 'Now look here, Morrison,' he said, 'if you go talking to Warren now he's joined that fellow in Coventry, you'll be sent there yourself by the rest of the school. I'll give you a week to think over what we were talking about at dinner time;' and Taylor, as he spoke, slipped his arm into Leonard's and walked him off, leaving Warren to try and persuade another boy to join him in his walk home with Horace.
But the Taylor and Curtis party were too strong just now for another to rebel against their rule, and so the two lads walked home by themselves, amid the derisive cheers of Taylor and a few others.
This state of things continued for a few days—the two friends learning to know and like each other better each time they met, and cared less for the company of others. Then a quarrel broke out in the ranks of the popular party, and Warren heard that Taylor was so hectoring the others as to what they should do, that at last, out of sheer perversity, two or three came to walk home with them, and held a discussion concerning Taylor and his ways that ought to have made that young gentleman's ears tingle.
'We're all in Coventry now, of course,' said one boy, 'and I vote that we make ourselves jolly over it. I say, Howard, I wantyou to tell me how you get your lessons done, for you're always ready with an answer, and I've been so floored lately that I've had a private message if I don't do better I shall have to go down among the juniors, and that would make my people wild.'
Horace laughed at the idea of there being any royal road to the acquisition of lessons but the one of careful, steady, thoughtful study.
'Then you do swat awfully, as the fellows say, and that's what they are so mad about. Taylor says Torrington's will be nothing better than a swatting shop, and no place for gentlemen, if it isn't stopped.'
Horace opened his eyes. 'I thought we went to school that we might learn all we could!' he said.
'Oh, Torrington's has got so fashionable that fellows have come to think of it as an easy-going place, where they need not work if they don't like it.'
'Just what my pater says!' exclaimed Warren. 'And he told me that if I didn't turn over a new leaf he should send me somewhere else. Now I propose we make ourselves into a swatting club. I believe Mr. Mason would be glad if we did.'
'I'm sure Skeats would,' said another.
'Well, there are six of us here. Suppose we agree that we'll stick to our work of anevening till we've got our lessons perfect for the next day.'
'Won't Taylor be mad when he finds it out!' said another. But, as Taylor had offended them, the suggestion added piquancy to the notion. And so before they separated each pledged himself to join the new swatting club. It was not an elegant name for a party of students to call themselves, but the object of the combination was good, and was warmly commended by the parents, who were taken into the confidence of their sons.
If the little party of students thought they were going to have an easy time of it at school, they were mistaken; for Taylor and the more popular party soon found out by the answers given in the classes what the new combination meant, and he was more angry than ever.
'A parcel of beggars who set themselves up to be gentlemen have no business at Torrington's; and the sooner they take themselves off the better!' he exclaimed angrily, when discussing this new departure with a few of his chosen friends.
Warren overheard what he said, and was not averse to a duel of words with 'the cock of the walk.'
'Who do you call gentlemen?' he demanded—'those who live in glass houses, and the son of a man who used to keep——'
Taylor did not wait to hear more. Before the objectionable word could be spoken Warren received a blow that felled him to the ground.
It came so unexpectedly and was struck so unfairly that there was an instant cry of, 'Coward! coward! Fight it fair and square!'
'All right, let him come on,' said Taylor. But Warren was in no fit condition to stand up to his antagonist just now, for he had struck his head as he had fallen, and lay for a minute or two quite unconscious. Some of the boys grew alarmed, and all were glad to see the boy open his eyes and the colour slowly return to his face. They were outside the school premises when the incident occurred, and they all took care to walk away as quickly as they could, lest the master's attention should be called to the quarrel, and they be compelled to give an account of it, which would not have been at all to their taste, as they preferred to manage their own affairs in their own way, with as little interference from the masters as possible in what they regarded as their own private business.
Taylor was one of the first to walk off when he saw Warren was getting better, and the rest, who had hoped to enjoy the spectacle of a fight, were disappointed. There were plenty to urge Warren to 'take it out' ofTaylor another day, and plenty more to side with the bigger lad, and urge him to 'have it out' with Warren for his 'cheek' in daring to dispute the authority of the majority of the class, and speak to the scholarship boy when he had been sent to Coventry.
Leonard Morrison was one of the foremost in urging Taylor to fight it out.
'The school expects it of you,' urged Leonard. 'He said your father was——'
'Shut up, will you!' snarled Taylor, turning his angry gaze upon Leonard. 'If he has taken that fellow out of Coventry, it was a plucky thing to do in the face of the whole class, and I like pluck,' he added, 'though I may get the kicks.'
It was plain that 'the cock of the walk' was seriously hurt or alarmed by what Warren had said, for he ceased to crow as loudly as usual, and walked home without noticing what his satellites said, his eyes bent on the ground, and evidently lost in thought over something that disturbed him more than the prospect of a fight with Warren.
Of course, as this was the latest phase of the scholarship boy question, it occupied more of the thought and attention than the earlier question; and so Horace walked into school the next morning chatting with one or two others, and no protesting hisses were raised.
It was noticed that Warren was not with him, and he looked round anxiously from time to time in search of his friend. But the day passed, and he did not appear, and the boys' spirits were damped a little in consequence, for they remembered now that they had heard that a blow on the head might prove dangerous to Warren.
But, to the relief of everybody, the two friends were seen coming along the road together the next morning, and when Taylor appeared round a bend in the road Warren walked up and joined him.
'Look here, Taylor, I had no business to say what I did the other day, for I can't fight you, it seems. My father has forbidden it, because——'
'Then you won't repeat what you said the other day?' interrupted Taylor eagerly.
'What do you take me for? I should be a cad if I did. Besides, I can see now that I have no business to blame you for what——No, I'm not going to say anything,' he whispered, in answer to Taylor's frown. 'Let every tub stand on its own bottom, I say.'
'All right, old fellow, we'll let the matter drop, then, and, mind, mum is the word between us.'
'Right you are,' said Warren, and then he ran off to join Horace, for he had drawnTaylor aside to say this, as neither of them wished their talk to be overheard.
Whatever it might be that Warren had heard concerning the antecedents of Taylor's family, he could not be more sensitive upon the point than Warren was over his inability to fight without danger to his life. For a schoolboy to be told that he cannot stand up in a fair, square fight without bringing the danger to his antagonist of being charged with manslaughter, had brought such a shock to the boy that it was this, rather than the effects of the fall, that made his father forbid him going to school the previous day. The lad had wondered how he was to get out of finishing the fight already begun; and it demanded a greater amount of courage on his part to walk up to Taylor and ask him to let the matter end where it was, than to stand up before him for a turn at fisticuffs, even with the almost dead certainty of getting the worst of it.
He had told his secret to Horace as he came along, glad of a confidant who would understand his difficulty; and Horace had counselled that he should make up his quarrel with Taylor, even though it involved throwing him over, if Taylor should make the demand.
Warren shook his head. 'I shan't do that,' he said. 'I think we shall find another way, and you can tell the fellows we haveagreed to cry quits. But don't tell them I can't stand up and fight, for fear the other fellow should get sent to prison afterwards. That's the dreadful part about it, and that's what my father says would be pretty sure to follow. What an awful muff I must be!' sighed the boy, 'worse than any girl!'
'But look here, you've just done something that took a lot more courage of another sort,' said Horace, who was ready to make a hero of his new friend for managing the affair with Taylor without throwing him over. 'You did a plucky thing too, speaking to me in the face of all the class.'
'Oh, that was just part of the fight that is in me. I believe I was born a fighter, and now for the sake of other people I must be mum, and go through the world like a girl.'
'I don't know anything about girls; I never had a sister, so I can't tell what they are like, but I know you will have plenty of the other sort of courage when it is wanted, so you need not mind much, if you can't fight with your fists.'
They had reached the crowd of boys near the gate now, and two or three pressed eagerly forward, to know when and where the fight was to come off.
'We've settled it now,' answered Warren.
'Bosh! Don't believe it, boys. They are just going off to have it out by themselves.'
'You're not going to let Warren off, are you, Taylor?' shouted another lad, as Taylor appeared.
'Shut up and mind your own business, and leave Warren and me to settle our own affairs in our own way!' And having said this, he pushed his way through the crowd and marched straight into school.
'How is your friend Warren to-day, Len?' asked Mr. Morrison, on the day when the boys thought the adjourned fight ought to have come off.
'Warren's no friend of mine now, he's an awful sneak!' said Leonard, angrily. He was greatly mystified over the fight not taking place, for he intended to support Taylor, and at least do part of the cheering on his side; and the collapse of the whole affair annoyed him, and he chose to consider it was Warren's fault. 'He just funked it you know, dad,' he said, when he explained the matter to his father.
'I don't know so much about that,' said Mr. Morrison; 'I met his father yesterday, and he told me he had forbidden his son to engage in a fight, either now or at any future time, and I asked him if he thought his son would obey him.'
'"Yes, I do!" he said, and seemed quiteconfident that his boy would respect his wishes, and I wondered whether he was right. So Warren junior refused to fight, did he?' said Mr. Morrison. 'It was a plucky thing to do, and I like a boy who can say "No," and stick to it.'
'The fellows are saying it was beastly mean of him, and he funked it because Taylor is a bigger fellow.'
'Ah! boys often jump to wrong conclusions. It isn't the only plucky thing Warren has done. Have you joined the swatting club yet, my boy?'
'What did you say, father?' asked Leonard, with widely opened eyes.
'The formation of a swatting club is the last new move, I hear, at Torrington's. To swat is to study, I understand—is that right?'
'Oh yes, the word is right enough; but who told you about it?'
'Is it a secret, then? Didn't you know about it—haven't you been asked to join it?'
'No! they wouldn't ask me; it isn't likely; for all the school know that I am trying to keep up the honour of Torrington's—keep it from going to the dogs, in fact,' said the boy, loftily, but with an angry tone in his voice.
'I am glad to hear it, Len. I was a Torrington boy in my time, and I love the old school still.'
'Then, father, what did you send that beastly scholarship boy there for?' burst out Leonard, scarcely knowing what he said in his anger.
'Leonard! Leonard!' chided his mother.
'I beg your pardon, mother, but it is what the fellows are always saying, and I forgot.'
'But why should the boys be vexed that the County Council chose to send one of the most promising of their scholars to that school? Has he done anything to offend you?'
'We don't give him the chance, and we want you, father, to take him away at once. Don't you see the honour of the school is at stake, and the fellows like Curtis and Taylor——'
The doctor held up his hand to stop the boy's angry flow of words. 'We won't discuss those gentlemen, if you please,' he said.
'But they are always discussing it,' exclaimed Leonard.
'Very foolish of them,' interrupted Mr. Morrison. 'But now tell me what you mean by the honour of the school, and why this lad has endangered it.'
'He comes from a board school, which, of course, is intended for poor, common people,' answered the boy.
'But "poor, common people" must betaught, you know; and now, if they possess the brains, they have the right to learn to use them as well as those who are better off. From Dr. Mason's report to the Council, this lad has given every satisfaction while he has been at the school, and I had hoped that you would have made his acquaintance by this time, and that I might have learned a little more about him from your point of view.'
Leonard shook his head. 'You must go to Warren for that; he has chosen to take him up in defiance of the whole school, and—and——' he stopped, dimly conscious that in his anger he had already said too much. Mr. Morrison was called away from the table at this point, and Leonard felt relieved that no further questions could be asked.
Later he went to the little room where lessons were learned, and found his sister sitting in her usual place. 'Mother wished me to come, Len,' she said, in explanation of her presence.
'All right, Duffy—not that you are such a duffer,' he added, 'and I shall try to find another name for you.'
'Oh, Duffy will do. Don't waste your time thinking about another name for me. What's in a name after all? It's what you are, not what name you are called by. I say, what is this swatting clubfather has heard about? You never told me about it.'
'Never heard of it myself before. Won't Taylor be mad when I tell him, for if there is one thing he hates it is swat! He says it's low and vulgar, and not fit for a school like Torrington's.'
'But you know father doesn't think that, and I am sure you ought to know that father is wiser than Taylor, if he is the biggest boy in the school.'
'As if that made any difference! You're just as much of a duffer as ever, to think such a thing,' he added.
'Well, what is it about Taylor that makes you call him the "cock of the walk?" I met him at a party last week, and I did not think much of him, I can tell you.'
'Ah! that's because you are a girl, and don't know anything. Taylor is a jolly fellow.'
'Well, I'm glad he's not my brother, for he is not very kind to his sister, and he was quite rude to his mother. He is no gentleman, and so he has no right to find fault with father because he sent a board school boy to sit with him at Torrington's.'
Leonard only laughed at his sister's denunciation of his hero; but he was curious to learn what had been said about this swattingclub—whether she had heard it spoken of before to-day. 'I should like to know how long they have been at it, and who are in it,' he said.
'Father said Warren and the scholarship boy; he was telling mother about it when you came in.'
'Oh, that scholarship boy is at the bottom of the whole mischief, of course,' said Leonard; 'but I should like to know how many more are in it; it's no good going to Taylor with half a tale. Won't he be mad, when he hears of this last move! Warren is forbidden to fight, too! I wonder why that is? Something wrong with his head, I shouldn't wonder,' added Leonard, after a minute's thought.
'Why, what makes you think that?' asked Florence.
'Because when Taylor knocked him down the other day he lay still as though he were dead for a minute or two, and never turned up at school all the next day. What larks if he can't fight! I'll put Taylor on to that, and see what he can make of it.'
'Len, how can you like to do such mean things? I wish father had not told you about it; but, of course, he never thought you were going to peach to the rest of the school about it, and especially to that vulgar thing Taylor.'
'Now, Duffy, that "vulgar thing" is your brother's chosen friend, so of course you don't like him, for I've noticed lately that if I like anything or anybody, you take a dislike to them directly.'
'Yes, because the things and the people you like are never nice. Mother was saying the other day she hoped you would not grow up like somebody she knew. I did not hear his name, but she sighed as she said it, and father did not smile or say anything when he heard her say it.'
'Look here, Duffy, you need not talk about those sort of things; I shall grow up all right, never fear. What I want to know is who are in the swatting lot besides Warren and the scholarship boy? Find that out for me, will you?'
'No, indeed, I will not, unless you promise to join them, and I don't believe you mean to do that, although you know father would like it.'
'I wonder whether he joined a swatting club when he went to Torrington's?' rejoined Leonard.
'I will ask him when he comes home,' replied his sister. 'Now I must begin my lessons; I have done them better lately, my governess says, and if I only work steadily on, I shall get a prize at Christmas.
Her brother whistled. 'Half-a-crown bookfor six months' work. That game don't pay except for duffers,' he said in a tone of contempt.
'I would rather be a duffer than some people who think themselves so clever. Now don't hinder me, but get on with your own lessons, and let me learn mine,' said his sister.
'Swat! swat! swat! with fingers and brain and pen,' sung her brother, while Florence propped her head on her hands and stared at her book. Then the door opened, and Mrs. Morrison appeared.
'Lenny, I want to have a little talk with you. Playing again, my boy; I knew some one else who chose to play a great deal of his time away at school, but he has bitterly repented it since. Perhaps you had better take your books up to your own room, dear,' she said, turning to Florence; 'I thought you might help each other if you did them together again, but when I heard Lenny singing I knew it was no good.'
Mrs. Morrison said that while Florence was gathering up her books, and when she had gone upstairs, she took her seat facing Leonard and had a long talk with him. She told him what his father had heard concerning one portion of the school; that it was becoming almost lawless in its determination not to learn more than the masters could force upon them.'He told you too that he heard to-day of a few boys who had separated themselves from this party, and were determined to profit by the instruction given, and learn the home lessons to the best of their ability.'
Mrs. Morrison saw Leonard's lip curl as she spoke in admiration of these lads. 'They're just a set of cads!' he muttered under his breath.
'No, they are not; and it is your father's wish, and mine too, that you should join this section of the school, and learn your home lessons as well as you possibly can. We do all we can to help you, and Florence is quite willing to come back and do her lessons here, if you do not hinder her. Now will you promise me, Lenny, to turn over a new leaf, and set your mind steadily to the tasks that may be set for you, instead of wasting your time in play as you have done lately?'
'I don't mind doing my lessons,' grunted Leonard ungraciously, 'but I don't see why father should want me to join that scholarship lot at school.'
'He wishes it because they are a steady set of lads, and you are easily led into mischief by your companions.'
'What mischief have I done?' angrily demanded the boy.
'Well, I don't know that there has been any particular mischief,' admitted his mother;'but your father is not very satisfied with the way things have been going on at school lately. You know the last report was far from satisfactory, and your father said you were just wasting your time, instead of learning all you could. Now promise me, dear, that you will make a new beginning.'
Leonard stared at his book and drummed on the table in silence, and Mrs. Morrison, feeling that she had said enough for once, rose and left the room. She hoped that Leonard would think over what she had said and act upon it, although he had not given the promise that she asked.
She went back to the drawing-room and sat down to think, and her thoughts wandered to that brother whom her son so strangely resembled; and she prayed that God would save her boy from wrecking his life and bringing misery to his friends, as this beloved brother had done.
Now Leonard chose to be half offended over what his mother had said to him. 'Mother wants me to be like a duffing girl,' he whispered to himself as she left the room. 'I wonder who it is she was telling me about. Somebody who has got himself into a nice scrape, and been obliged to leave England. It was a nice thing to be told I was like this scapegrace,' he muttered. But, in spite of his anger, he did manage to learn something of hislessons that night before he went to bed; and he might have got on fairly well in class, if he had not met Taylor early in his walk to school. Taylor was brimming over with the importance of a piece of news he had heard.
'What do you think, Morrison? There are a lot of sneaks in the school who have set up a swatting club without saying a word to us about it!'
'Yes, I know; my pater has heard of it, and wants me to join it.'
'You'll never do it, Morrison!' exclaimed the elder lad.
'Not if I know it. What do you take me for? Isn't it enough to be worried by the masters? No, thank you; I'm going to stick to my friends.'
'Yes, and you must fight with them too, unless you want to see Torrington's ruined as a school for gentlemen. That's what my pater says, and I guess he knows as much as most. He has made his pile; means I shall be a gentleman, and that is all he cares for. Lessons be blowed! They're all very well for scholarship boys and such cads. Your father ought to be ashamed of himself ever to have sent that board school boy among gentlemen, and the beggar will have to go!'
Leonard did not reply, for he did not like to hear any action of his father blamed, andso he walked along in silence, while Taylor poured out further angry denunciations until the school was reached.
During the course of the class lessons that morning it became very evident that there was a dividing line between those who had carefully studied their subjects and the rest of the class. Warren, Howard, and seven or eight other lads held the top part of the class in all subjects, and Taylor, Morrison, and the rest of that part kept steadily at the bottom.
'I've had enough of this,' said Taylor when they came into the playground after dinner. 'That scholarship boy is at the bottom of the whole thing, and we must get rid of him.'
'You've said that before,' grumbled Curtis.
'Yes, I know I have, and I hoped Morrison would persuade his pater to do the job for us, as he brought him in; but it don't seem as though he was going to move in the matter, and soIshall, and little Morrison must help me.'
'But what are you going to do?' asked Leonard.
'That's my business. All you've got to do is what I tell you, and to ask no questions.'
Curtis lifted his sleepy eyes and looked at Taylor with a little more interest.
'What is it to be?' he asked.
'Well, I mean to stink him out; it will all be done up in the stinkery.'
'The stinkery'—or stink-room, to give it its proper title—was a small slip-room divided from the laboratory by a close wooden partition with several ventilating shafts, under which noisome-smelling chemicals could be used without causing any annoyance to the students working in the general laboratory.
'That scholarship boy shall have enough of his precious slops. I'll let Skeats know whether he shall favour a fellow because the rest of us have sent him to Coventry!'
'Why, what has Skeats done?' asked one of the lads; for the science master was a favourite among most of the boys.
'Can't you see what he's doing every day? That sneak from the board school pretends to have "an idea," whatever that may be, and goes talking to old Skeats about it, and so he lets him go up to the "lab." every dinner-time to work at it. Don't you see the little game? We can't make him feel he is in Coventry, if he is taken out of our way. But I am going to upset this family party, and I mean little Morrison shall help me. It's only fair, as his father brought the fellow here, that he should be used to get rid of him.'
'What do you want me to do?' askedLeonard, turning pale, and heartily wishing himself out of the way.
'Why, you shall get the stuff we want. Your father is a doctor, and so it will be easy enough.'
'But the pater does not keep a store of chemicals,' said Leonard.
'Who said he did? I said he was a doctor, and I suppose you can't deny that, can you?'
Leonard looked offended, and was turning away, but Taylor soon fetched him back. 'Look here, little Morrison, it's no good funking. You can do this job better than anybody else, and you've got to do it. I don't want you to steal your father's stuff, but you must get two of his bottles, and go to get what I shall tell you, and if the people at the drug store ask you whether it is for your father, why, of course you must say, "Yes." Now mind, mum must be the word, for I'm not going to tell all the crowd what I'm going to do. Curtis is going to find half the money, and I'll find the other half. Here's half a sovereign. I don't know what the things will cost, any more than the man in the moon, but I shall want the things I have put down in this paper; and tell them to fasten them down tight, so that they don't leak out; for you'll have to keep 'em in your bag till I can use 'em to-morrow.'
'Must I get them to-night?' asked Leonard, wishing he could tell Taylor he would not do it.
'Yes, youmust!' answered the 'cock of the walk' in a masterful tone. 'Now, mind you don't lose the money, and be sure you bring the right chemicals.'
'Oh dear, how late you are for luncheon! it always happens so, if I want you to come home early!'
'Can't help it, my dear,' said Dr. Morrison, as he began to take off his coat.
But his wife was too impatient to let him do it this time. 'Come in here while they put luncheon on the table,' she said, and she drew him into the little room. 'I have had a letter. Guess who it is from.'
But Dr. Morrison shook his head. 'I am too hungry to guess anything,' he said. 'Is it from the man in the moon?'
'Almost as wonderful,' said the lady. 'It is from Dick, dear old Dick! I feel ready to jump for joy.'
The doctor stood still and looked at his wife in blank amazement. 'From Dick? your brother Dick?' he said at last.
'Oh dear, don't speak like that, as though the poor fellow had ever done anythingwicked! I have heard you say many times that he was only weak, not wicked.'
'Yes, yes, I know he is only weak; only too ready to say "Yes," and be led into mischief, when he ought to say "No," and stand to it. Think what his easy-going ways have cost us.'
'No, no, I can't think of that now,' interrupted the lady. 'I can only remember that he is my only brother, and I want you to take me to him at once. I have not seen him for five years,' she added, 'and he begs that you will go to him at once, because he has a friend with him who needs your attention at once. He says he met with him out in the wilds of Australia, and he has been the best friend he ever had—that this Mr. Howard has saved him body and soul. But he has fallen ill, through disappointment at not receiving a letter from his wife as soon as he landed. That he has not heard from her for years, because he had to leave England in a hurry, a great many years ago.'
'Why, that might be written of Dick himself,' said the doctor, with a smile. '"Birds of a feather," you know the old proverb!'
'Oh, but Dick must have altered, I am sure, for he says that he and Mr. Howard have both worked very hard, and made a moderate fortune, or they would not have come home toEngland again. That is not like the old Dick, is it?'
'No, my dear, for he generally let other people do the hard work, while he dreamed of what he would like to do. But now let me see this letter.'
'Luncheon is served, ma'am,' said the housemaid, tapping at the door at this moment.
The doctor and his wife were to have the meal alone to-day, and so the servant's service was dispensed with, that they might discuss this wonderful letter, for wonderful it was, even the doctor had to confess, when he had read it.
There was far more about his friend, whose wife and family he was anxious to find, than there was about the writer himself; but the most interesting piece of information was in the postscript.
'My friend has just heard that his wife went to live in the neighbourhood of your town. Can you make inquiries? She has two sons, Frederick and Horace. The latter would be about thirteen, I think.'
The doctor dropped the letter and gazed at his wife. 'I wonder whether it is the father of that scholarship boy!' he almost gasped.
'What scholarship boy?' asked Mrs. Morrison impatiently.
'Why, the one that was sent from theboard school to Torrington's. His father was entered as a traveller, I believe, and he was said to be abroad. My dear, put your things on, and we will drive round and see this Mrs. Howard. She lives at that old-fashioned cottage just outside the town.'
'Oh, but I want to go and see Dick!' said the lady.
'And we will go, if possible; but I shall have to see Warren first, and we must do as Dick wishes, and inquire for his friend's wife before we go.'
Dr. Morrison was not a man to let the grass grow under his feet, and so the carriage was ordered at once, and in half an hour they were on their way to the cottage.
A very few words convinced the doctor that he had found the lady he was seeking; and when she had read all that was said about her husband she readily agreed to go with the doctor and Mrs. Morrison to London. While the doctor went to his friend Warren, she wrote a letter explaining something of what had happened, and that she was going with Dr. Morrison to London. This she sent by a messenger to Fred at his work, asking him to tell Horace something of what had occurred, and also to meet his brother when he came home to tea.
Fred was not a little puzzled when he received this letter, but he asked to be allowedto leave a little earlier, and so managed to reach home just as Horace appeared at the bend of the lane.
'I tried to get here before you, but you were too quick for me,' he said, when his brother rushed in at the garden gate.
'Where's mother?' asked Horace, when he saw Fred take the street-door key from his pocket.
'Come indoors, and I'll tell you all I know. Let me light the fire first,' he added. Fred had learned to be very handy about the house, and he soon had the fire blazing under the kettle; and while it boiled he told Horace that a letter had been sent to him early in the afternoon from his mother, saying that she had just received news of his father, who was ill in London. 'Dr. Morrison came and told her all about it, and he has gone to London with her.'
'Dr. Morrison!' repeated Horace. 'Why, Morrison is in my class at school; and the doctor is his father, I know.'
'What sort of a fellow is young Morrison?' asked Fred. He was handing cups and saucers to Horace, who was setting them ready for tea.
'Oh, Morrison is all right,' said Horace, who was clattering the cups and saucers; for he did not want to discuss his school troubles with his brother. 'I don't see much of him,because he likes to go with the bigger boys. I say, Fred, do you remember our father?' said Horace; 'he's been gone away such a long time. We used to have a nice house and servants when he stayed at home with us, didn't we?'
'Then you remember him, Horry?' said Fred.
But Horace shook his head. 'No, I don't remember a bit about him, only that we had a nice house a long time ago.'
'Well, I only remember a little,' said Fred. 'But I know he was a tall gentleman, and I think he was a doctor. He went away to travel, I have heard mother say, and she thought he must be dead until Dr. Morrison came this afternoon. I have brought home some sausages,' announced Fred, who wanted to change the conversation.
He knew so little and remembered so little about his father and those former days; but as he had grown older he had grown angry that his father should leave his mother as he had, without cause—so far as Fred knew—and without explanation, he had heard, and simply gone abroad to travel, leaving them to battle with poverty as they could.
As time went on he had spoken less and less of his father, but he had become certain that there must have been some cause for his father's disappearance, though his mothermight not know it; but in his own mind there was a lurking fear that some disgrace might lie hidden below the long silence. And so, as soon as tea was over, he said—
'I am going out to get some things for breakfast.'
So Horace was left to the comfort of his books and the study of his lessons.
When Leonard reached home that same afternoon, Florence met him with the information that father and mother had both gone out, and Mary the housemaid did not know what time they would be home.
'Where have they gone?' asked Leonard, for it was a rare occurrence for both to be away at the same time.
Florence shook her head. 'Mary says that James was sent with a letter to Mr. Warren, and so I should think father had asked him to look after some of his patients.'
'Very likely,' answered her brother; and then he took his satchel to the little room where lessons were studied and sat down to think.
He did not know whether he was glad or sorry to hear that his father had gone out. As he came along he had made up his mind that it would be impossible to get bottles from his father's dispensing-room, for he was never allowed to go there, and it was justpossible that his father had locked the door before going out, in which case he could tell Taylor that it was impossible to get the chemicals for him, and there would be an end of it.
But, although he said this, he knew there would not be an end of it, and if he refused at last to get what was wanted, he would be sent to Coventry, at least by those whose society he desired.
So after washing his hands before going to tea he went to the dispensing-room, to find out whether the door could be opened, and found that it yielded at once. He went in and closed the door, lest one of the servants should come that way and see him, when they would be sure to remind him that he was not allowed to go there.
After closing the door he looked round to see what he could find, and there by the sink was a row of glass-stoppered bottles, evidently filled with water for washing them. He selected two that he thought would hold about half a pint each, and pouring out the water he took them to the study and hid them in a corner out of sight, in case Florence should decide to do her lessons with him this evening.
But it seemed as though everything was to favour him in what he knew was wrong-doing. His sister told him at tea-time that she mustdo her lessons in her own room, for she had an extra piece of history to study, as she was working for the history prize to be given at Christmas.
'Oh, all right,' said Leonard, with his mouth full of bread and jam. 'It's all a girl can do, I suppose, get a prize now and then.'
'You can't do that if you are a boy!' retorted Florence; and then there was a little more sparring and wrangling, until the housemaid appeared to clear the table. Florence went upstairs to her lesson then, and Leonard sauntered off to the little study and lighted the gas, for it was getting dusk.
When the gas was lighted he went to look at his bottles, and then saw in the corner, near where he had hidden them, an old leather bag of his father's. He remembered now that he had been told he might have it for his books when the satchel was worn out; and he decided to take it at once. 'This is good fortune indeed! Taylor says he'll take care nobody finds out, if I only get the stuff there. Taylor is a smart fellow, and so is his father, or he could not have made a big fortune in a year or two, as Taylor says he did. My dad won't make one in a life-time, I'm afraid, and I shall just have to go plodding on at hard work, unless I can learn a thing or two from Taylor by-and-by.'
While he had been speaking to himself he had been wrapping each bottle up separately in a piece of old newspaper and putting them into the bag. Then he took the written paper given him by Taylor and the half-sovereign, and decided to go at once and get his bottles filled. He must tell the chemist to seal the stoppers down securely, or there would be such a smell from the bag that it would betray them before it could be got into 'the stinkery' at school. He put a book in the bag as well as the bottles, so that if his sister should discover that he had been out, he could say he had been to borrow a book from one of his schoolfellows.
He went out by the back gate, for he did not want anyone to know he was going if he could help it, and Florence might hear him shut the front door. He knew where to go, and as he brought his father's private bottles and half-a-sovereign to pay for what he had, the chemist served him without demur. He wondered a little what the doctor could want the chemicals for, but reflected that as Leonard was old enough to sign his poison-book in the regular way, and as Mr. Morrison was a well-known practitioner in the town, there could be no harm done in letting him have what he wanted.
So Leonard walked home in triumph with the bottles securely wrapped up in the bag.On his way back he met Taylor walking arm-in-arm with Curtis, and both smoking cigarettes.
'Hullo, little Morrison!' he said in a patronising tone, as Leonard stopped them, for they would have passed without noticing him.
'This is a piece of luck!' exclaimed the boy. 'You can take the bag now, Taylor. The bottles and stuff are in it safe enough.'
'What bottles? What stuff?' he said, stepping back a pace, as if the proffered bag would bite him.
'You know what it is,' said Leonard in a tone of surprise.
'Oh no, I don't! I know nothing until you bring me the stuff I told you about. Ta-ta! little Morrison. Don't forget the bag in the morning;' and the 'cock of the walk' and his friend went on their way laughing, leaving the boy transfixed with anger and amazement. His first thought was that he would go and throw the bottles in the canal just as they were, give Taylor the change out of the half-sovereign, and tell him where he would find the bottles if he wanted them. He went so far as to walk down the canal road, but his courage evaporated before he had gone any distance, and although he was still very angry over the treatment he had receivedfrom his chosen friend, he turned his steps homeward, still carrying the bottles, but half decided that he would not take them to Taylor in the morning.
As he was going in at the back gate one of the servants met him.
'Dear me, Mr. Leonard! how you made me jump! There's a telegram come for you, and Miss Florence has been hunting all over the house to find you, for the boy said he was to wait for an answer.'
The importance of having a telegram sent to him soothed Leonard's ruffled feelings, and he hurried in to find his sister and learn what the message could be. 'Mother and I cannot come home to-night—coming to-morrow.' This was what the mysterious yellow envelope contained by way of a message, and Leonard read it with Florence looking over his shoulder.
'There's no answer to go back,' said Leonard, when he saw Mary looking at him. 'Go and tell the boy Father has just sent to say that he is not coming home to-night;' and then he went and carried the bag to the little room, leaving Florence to read the telegram over for her own satisfaction—as if that would give her any more information.
She followed her brother to the study and said, 'Where do you think they have gone, Len?'
'How can I tell? I never heard of a rich uncle, did you?'
His sister shook her head. 'Daddy was an only son, I know,' she said. 'But I think mother had a brother.'
'Was he a millionaire?' asked Leonard.
'He was a doctor, which is quite as good, I am sure, for that is——'
'Flo, you're a duffer,' interrupted her brother. 'There's nothing like millionaires in these days, and so I hope this uncle, whoever he may be, has made his pile, and will leave it all to us.'
'But you don't know it is an uncle they have gone to see. Father had friends in London, and this telegram came from Westminster, and I know that is in London.'
'Well, we shall hear all about it when they come, I dare say. Now run away, little girl, for I want to get on with my lessons, now I have got the book I wanted.'
'Oh, that was what you wanted! You boys are so careless. It is a good job you can borrow of each other;' and Florence went away, leaving Leonard to do his lessons or reflect upon the strange events of the evening.
After a few angry thoughts concerning Taylor and his behaviour towards him that evening, he began wondering once more whether it was an uncle his parents had goneto see, and then whether he was rich, and would make them wealthy too. He had never thought so much of money and what it could do for its possessor until lately, but Taylor and Curtis both belonged to wealthy families, and he thought of what they could do. He called to mind the half-sovereign and the cigarettes he had seen them smoking, and he had no doubt they were going to a famous billiard-room in the town. Billiards, cigars, and half-sovereigns made up an entrancing picture to the boy, and he sat and dreamed of these things, and wished he had plenty of money, until half the evening was gone; and although he declined to go to bed at the usual hour, he only half knew his lessons when he did go.
The next morning he started for school in good time, for fear he should miss Taylor, and be compelled to have those bottles on his mind all the morning. But Taylor was looking out for him at the corner of the road where they usually met. He was in a different mood this morning, and flattered and praised the lad for having got the chemicals without anyone finding out what he had done.
'You carry the bag to the gate, and I'll take it of you there, and no one will ever see those bottles again, I can promise you.'
'But how are you going to manage?' asked Leonard.
'Oh, I have made my plans! I have to work in "the stinkery" this morning, so the thing will be easy enough when I have once got your bottles up in the "lab.," and they'll go in my pockets for me to take them up there. Oh, never fear! we shall get rid of that board school beggar this time, for Skeats is awfully particular about his stuff, and he'll never forgive him for using chemicals like these away from "the stinkery." I know where to put them till I want them, so you can give them to me in a minute, and I will put them into the pockets of this dust-coat I am carrying; I brought it with me on purpose.'
Leonard breathed a sigh of relief when the bottles were safely transferred from the bag to the inside pockets of the fashionable coat.
'If the stopper should come out of that bottle of sulphuric acid, your coat won't be worth much,' he said, as Taylor swung the coat over his arm.
'The stoppers are all right, I can see,' he said; but still he carried the coat carefully, and went at once to hang it up when he got to the school.
The laboratory had been built at a later date than the main body of the school, and was reached by a flight of steps from the playground. The room below it was used for coats and hats and other impedimenta the boys might bring with them, each boy having his own peg and place on the shelf for bag or lunch basket. They passed through this room on their way to the laboratory, and so it would be easy for Taylor to take down his coat, and carry it up with him when he went for his practical chemistry lesson, and he did this without any notice being aroused among the other boys.
At twelve o'clock, when school was over, the science master went to the playground to look for Howard, who was eating his sandwiches as he walked up and down. 'You won't be long before you go up to the laboratory, I suppose, Howard?' he said, when he saw the lad.
'No, sir, I'm going in a minute,' said the boy.
'I have left three boys there finishing their work. Just see they leave their things all right, when you go in.'
Horace frequently performed such small services for the science master, and readily promised to do this. But just as Mr. Skeats turned away, Warren came up, and the two stood talking for two or three minutes before Howard went to the laboratory. He ran up the steps, and was surprised to find the door closed, but not locked, as boys usually lockedit when they were left to do some work after school hours. When he opened the door, he was struck by the peculiar smell of almonds that pervaded the place. He closed the door, but did not lock it. 'I say, what have you fellows been using?' he said, as he went to the further end of the room. There lay one boy stretched out on the floor near a bench, and close to another lay a second. He tried to rouse the one nearest to him, and then seized him by the legs and dragged him across the room out on to the landing. There he shouted 'Help! help!' and ran back to pull out the others, for he knew the deadly nature of that almond-like smell. He managed to get another to the door, where he would get fresh air, and then returned for the third. He found him lying near 'the stinkery,' and thought he would open that door, for the better ventilation of the outer room; but as he passed his own bench, which stood near, he was overpowered by the fumes pouring out of a flask standing there, from which acid also was boiling over on to the bench and floor. He reeled, and before he could reach the door fell insensible to the ground, one hand falling helplessly into the pool of burning liquid there. But by this time the fresh air had revived the first boy he had dragged out, and he called to a lad in the playground.
'What's the row?' said Warren—for ithappened to be that young gentleman. 'Oh, what a stink!' he said the next minute, and putting his head in, he saw Howard and the other lad lying on the floor at the further end of the room. He knew that the fumes were dangerous, and stuffing his pocket-handkerchief into his mouth and up his nostrils, he dashed in and tried to drag both boys at once to the door, but had to drop one just as Mr. Skeats rushed up. He picked up Horace, and carried him down, and then sent for the head master and other lads to carry out those who, although somewhat revived, were still lying on the landing at the top of the steps.
'You must have a doctor, sir,' said Warren, pushing his way through the crowd of boys who had gathered round to know what was the matter.
'Yes, yes,' said the master; and Warren rushed off to the gate and ran hastily down the road. He knew his father was often in the neighbourhood about that time of the day, and, to his great joy, he saw him driving in his gig. The boy ran and shouted, and speedily attracted the doctor's attention when his son shouted, 'Something wrong in the "lab!"'
He ran into the playground, and there half-a-dozen voices called, 'They have carried them all to the master's house.'
Here he found two of the boys well-nigh recovered, but the third one was still unconscious, and Horace seemed even worse. His hand and arms were badly burned with the acid, and there were splashes of it on his face.
The masters were doing what they could to get the deadly poison out of his lungs, but it seemed as though Horace and the third lad had inhaled so much of the gas that all their efforts were in vain. The doctor looked grave when Mr. Skeats told him the boys had been breathing hydro-cyanic acid gas. The application of artificial respiration was redoubled, but it was not until nearly four o'clock that Horace began to revive, and what Leonard felt during those awful hours of suspense could be better imagined than described! The laboratory had been locked up, as soon as it was known what had happened, so that the affair might be inquired into. No boy was allowed to go home either, although Taylor had complained of being very ill, and had wanted to leave early.
Not until it was known that Horace was out of all immediate danger was there a word spoken, and then Dr. Mason said, 'I am ready to hear any explanation that you may wish to give me as to the cause of what has happened. I have heard all about the attendant circumstances and the rescue of theselads. What I want to know is, who caused the disaster?'
Not a sound broke the silence of the school when the doctor had said this. Leonard was ready to tell of his share in the affair, but as he glanced at Taylor he received such a look of warning as made him cower in his seat, and the school broke up wondering what would happen next.