Jack Vance thought one, Diggory said two; and the company then relapsed into silence, and stood with gloomy looks upon their faces, as though they were waiting to take part in a funeral procession.
At length a voice from the house was heard calling, "Fred—Fred Acton!" The dux turned a trifle pale, but pulling himself together, marched off with a firm step to learn his fate.
"She called him Fred," murmured Diggory; "that sounds hopeful."
"Oh, that's nothing," answered Jack Vance; "Miss Eleanor always calls fellows by their Christian names. There's one thing," he added, after a few moments' thought—"if she'd cut up rough over the letter, she might have called him Mr. Acton. Hullo, here he comes!" As he spoke Acton emerged from the house, and came down the path towards them; his straw hat was tilted forward over his eyes, and his cheeks were glowing like the red glass of a dark-room lamp. He sauntered along, kicking up the gravel with the toe of his boot.
"Well, what happened?" inquired Jack Vance.
No answer.
"What's the matter ?" cried Diggory; "what did she say?"
"Why, this!" answered the other, in a voice trembling with suppressed emotion: "she said I was a silly boy, and—and—gave me a lump of cake!"
If any one else had done it, the probability is Acton would have slain them on the spot. Diggory opened his eyes and mouth wide, and then exploded with laughter. "Oh my!" he gasped, "I shall die, I know I shall! Ha, ha, ha!"
Acton eyed him for a moment with a look of indignant astonishment; then he began to smile, Jack Vance commenced to chuckle, and very soon all three were laughing in concert.
"Well, I think it's rather unfeeling of you fellows," said the rejected suitor; "I can tell you I'm jolly cut up about it."
"I'm awfully sorry," answered Diggory, "but I couldn't help laughing. Cheer up; why, think, you won't have to get the ring now, so you can do what you like with that five and ninepence you saved. Why, it's worth being refused to have five and ninepence to spend in grub!"
"Ah, Diggy !" said the other, shaking his head in a mournful manner, "wait till you're as old as I am: when you're close on fifteen you'll think differently about love and all that sort of thing."
As has already been hinted, it was the failure of this attempt on the part of the dux to win the heart and hand of Miss Eleanor that indirectly brought about the formation of the famous supper club. About a week after the events happened which have just been described, Acton invited the Triple Alliance to meet the "House of Lords" in the work-shed, to discuss an important scheme which he said had been in his mind for some days past; and the door having been locked to exclude outsiders, he commenced to unfold his project as follows:—
"I've been thinking that during the summer term, and while the weather's warm, our two rooms might form a supper club. We'd hold it, say, once a week, when pocket-money is given out, and have a feed together; one time in your room, and the next in ours, after every one's gone to bed. You know I saved some money at the beginning of the term to buy an engagement ring with; but I don't want it now, so I'm going to spend the tin in grub, and if you like I'll stand the first feed."
There was a murmur expressive of approbation at this generous offer, mingled with sympathy for the unhappy circumstance which gave rise to it, and which was now an open secret.
"Oh," said Shaw, "that's a grand idea! I know my brother Bob, who's at a big school at Lingmouth, told me that he and some other chaps formed a supper club and held it in his study. It's by the sea, and they used to go out and catch shrimps; and they only had one old coffee-pot, that they used to boil over the gas; so they cooked the shrimps in it first, and made the coffee after. One night they only had time to heat it up once, and so they boiled the shrimps in the coffee; and Bob says they didn't taste half bad, and that they always used to do it after, to save time."
"Well, I propose that we have one," cried Morris.
The resolution was carried unanimously. Acton was elected president, and by way of recognizing the mutual interest of the Triple Alliance, Jack Vance was appointed to act as secretary, and it was decided to hold the first banquet on the following night.
"We can buy the grub to-morrow," said Acton; "but there's one thing we ought to fetch to-day, and that is, I thought we might have, say, six bottles of ginger-beer. Then each man must take his own up to bed with him this evening, and hide it away in his box or in one of his drawers."
This was accordingly done, and, as it happened, was the cause of the only disaster which attended the formation of the club. For the first week in June the weather was unusually hot: a candle left all day in the "Main-top" was found drooping out of the perpendicular, and when the Triple Alliance retired to rest their bedroom felt like an oven. They were just dozing off to sleep, when all three were suddenly startled by a muffled bang somewhere close to them. In an instant they were sitting up in bed, rubbing their eyes with one hand and grasping their pillows with the other.
"Look out, they're coming!" whispered Jack Vance; "wasn't that something hit the door?"
"It sounded as if something fell on the floor," answered Diggory."I wonder if anything's rolled off either of the washstands."
Jack Vance reconnoitred the passage, while Diggory and Mugford examined the room; but nothing could be found to account for the disturbance.
"It must have been the fellows in the 'Main-top.' I expect they dropped a book or upset a chair. Don't let's bother about it any more."
The following morning, however, the mystery was explained. The boys were hastily putting on their clothes, when Mugford, who had just thrown aside a dirty collar, gave vent to an exclamation of dismay, which attracted the attention of his two companions.
"Hullo! what's up?"
"Why, look here! If this beastly bottle of ginger-beer hasn't gone and burst in the middle of my box!"
The first meeting of the supper club was a great success. How ever Acton and his noble friends had managed to smuggle upstairs, under their jackets, a pork-pie, a plum-cake, a bag of tarts, and a pound of biscuits, was a feat which, as Jack Vance remarked, "beat conjuring."
Shortly after midnight the Triple Alliance wended their way to the "House of Lords," where they found the three other members quite ready to commence operations. The good things were spread out on the top of a chest of drawers, and the company ranged themselves round on the available chairs and two adjacent beds, and commenced to enjoy the repast.
"Ah, well," sighed Acton, with his mouth full of pork-pie, "I'm rather glad for some things that I didn't get engaged. It must be rather a bore having to spend all your money in rings and that sort of thing, instead of in grub; though I really think I'd have given up grub for Miss Eleanor."
"I wonder," said Morris, who was of a more prosaic disposition, "how it is that it's always much jollier having a feed when you ought not to than at the proper time. For instance, eating this pork-pie at a table, with knife and fork and a plate, wouldn't be a quarter the fun it is having it like we're doing now—cutting it with a razor out of Acton's dressing-case, and knowing that if we were cobbed we should get into a jolly row."
"Talking about rows over feeds," said Acton, "my brother John is at Ronleigh College, and I remember, soon after he went there, he said they had a great spree in his dormitory. One of the chaps had had a hamper sent him, and they smuggled the grub upstairs; and when they thought the coast was clear, they spread a sheet on the floor, and laid out the grub as if it were on a table-cloth. The fellow who was standing treat was rather a swell in his way, and among other things he'd got his jam put out in a flat glass dish. It was a fine feed, and they'd just begun, when they heard some one coming. They'd only just got time to turn out the gas and jump into bed before the door opened, and in came one of the masters called Weston. Well, of course, they all pretended to be asleep. But the master had heard them scrambling about, and he walked in the dark up the aisle between the beds, saying, 'Who's been out of bed here?' Then all of a sudden he stuck his foot into the glass jam-dish, and it slid along the floor, and down he came bang in the middle of all the spread. John said that when the gas was lit they couldn't help laughing at old Weston: he'd rammed one elbow into a box of sardines, and there was a cheese-cake stuck in the middle of his back. But oh, there was a row, I can tell you!"
This yarn produced others, and the time passed pleasantly enough, until full justice had been done to the provisions, and hardly a crumb remained.
"Phew! isn't it hot?" said Diggory; "let's open the window a bit. The moon must be full," he continued, as he raised the sash; "it's nearly as light as day. I can see all down the garden, and—hullo! quick, put the candle out!"
Every one started to his feet, and the light was extinguished in a moment.
"What is it—what's the matter?" they all asked. "There's some one in the playground," whispered Diggory, as the others crowded round him. "You see the door at the bottom of the garden; well, just when I spoke some one opened it and looked up at the house, and then shut it again. It must have been Blake, and he's seen our light."
"It can't be Blake," answered Acton; "he's gone to Fenley to play in a cricket match, and isn't coming back till to-morrow morning. Old Welsby went to bed hours ago; and, besides, what should either of them want to be doing down there at this time of night? You must have been dreaming, Diggy."
"No, I wasn't; I saw it distinctly. It must be old Blake. He's come home sooner than he expected, and I shouldn't wonder if he's going round by the road to take us by surprise."
"He can't do that," answered Acton, "because I've got the key of the shed, and the door-key's hung up inside."
Acton remained watching at the window while the others hastily cleared away all traces of the feast; the Triple Alliance retired to their own room, and nothing further was heard or seen of the mysterious visitor.
The next morning it was discovered that Mr. Blake had not returned from Fenley, and the five other members of the supper club were inclined to regard Diggory's vision of the midnight intruder as a sort of waking nightmare, resulting from an overdose of cake and pork-pie. Two days later Cross came into the schoolroom in a great state of excitement.
"Look here, you fellows," he exclaimed: "some one keeps taking away my things out of the shed, and not putting them back. Last week I missed a saw and two chisels, and now that brace and nearly all the bits are gone. It's a jolly shame!"
Carpentering was Cross's great hobby, and his collection of tools was an exceptionally good one, both as regards quantity and quality. Every one, however, denied having touched the things mentioned. A general search was made; but the missing articles could not be found, and at length the matter was reported to Mr. Welsby.
The latter was evidently greatly displeased on hearing the facts of the case. As soon as dinner was over he called the school together, and after standing for some moments in silence, frowning at the book he carried in his hand, said briefly,—
"With regard to these tools, there is a word which has never been used before in connection with any pupil at The Birches, and which I hope I may never have occasion to use again. I can hardly think it possible that we have athiefin the house. I am rather inclined to imagine that some one has removed the things and hidden them away in joke; if so, let me tell him that the joke has been allowed to go too far, and that, unless they are returned at once, a shadow of doubt will be cast upon the honour and integrity of all here present. It is impossible for such large articles as a saw and a brace to be mislaid or lost on such small premises as these, and I trust that before this evening you will report to me that the things have been found. I have purposely allowed the key of the shed to remain in your own possession, feeling certain that your behaviour as regards each other's property would be in accordance with the treatment which one gentleman expects to receive from another. You may go."
There was little in the nature of a scolding in this address, and yet something in it caused every one to leave the room in a state of great excitement. Acton and Jack Vance especially fairly boiled with wrath.
"What old Welsby says is quite right," remarked the latter; "and until those things are found, we may all be looked upon as thieves."
The search, however, proved fruitless; and, what was worse, in turning over the contents of the shed, Acton discovered that a bull's-eye lantern belonging to himself had disappeared from the shelf on which it usually stood; while Mugford declared that a box of compasses, which he had brought down a few days before to draw a pattern on a piece of board, was also missing.
Directly after tea Acton button-holed Diggory, and taking him aside said, "Look here, I'm in an awful rage about these thing's being prigged, because, of course, I've got the key of the shed; and didn't you hear what old Welsby said about it? It looks uncommonly as if I were the thief. You remember what you said the other night when we had that feed, about seeing that man? D'you think thereisany one who comes here at night and steals things?"
"Well, I'm certain I saw some one in the playground when I told you. It was a man; but whether he comes regularly and goes into the shed I don't know, but I think we ought to be able to find out."
"How?"
"Oh, some way or other; I'll tell you to-morrow." That night, long after the rest of the house were asleep, the Triple Alliance lay awake engaged in earnest conversation; and in the morning, as the boys were assembling for breakfast, Diggory touched Acton on the shoulder and whispered,—
"I say, we've thought of a plan to find out if any one goes into the shed at night."
"Who's 'we'?"
"Why, the Triple Alliance; we thought it out between us. Sneak out of the house directly after evening 'prep,' and meet me in the playground, and I'll show you what it is."
At the time appointed Acton ran down the path, and found Diggory waiting for him by the shed.
"Look," said the latter, "I've cut a little tiny slit with my knife in each door-post, about three feet from the ground, and I'm going to stretch this piece of black cotton between them. No one will see it, and if they go through the door, the thread will simply draw out of one of the slits without their noticing it, and we shall see that it's been disturbed. Jack Vance says that when he's been out shooting with his guv'nor he's seen the keeper put them across the paths in a wood to find out if poachers have been up them. Now unlock the door, and let's go inside."
In front of the bench, where the ground had been much trodden, there was a great deal of loose dust. Diggory went down on his hands and knees, and producing an old clothes-brush from his pocket, swept about a square yard of the ground until the dust lay in a perfectly smooth surface.
"There," he said, rising to his feet again; "we'll do this the last thing every night, and any morning if we find the cotton gone we must look here for footprints, and then we ought to be able to tell if it's a man or a boy."
"Don't you think we ought to tell Blake about that man you saw?" askedActon, as they walked back to the schoolroom.
"Well, I don't see how we can," answered Diggory. "The first thing he'll ask will be,' Who saw him?' I shall say, 'I did;' and then he'll want to know how I saw the playground door from my bedroom window, which looks out on the road; and then the fat'll be in the fire, and it'll all come out about that supper."
Regularly every evening, as soon as supper was over, the two boys stole down into the playground to set their trap; but when morning came there was no sign of the shed having been entered. This went on for nearly a month, but still no result.
"I don't think it's any good bothering about it any more," said Acton; "the thief doesn't mean to come again."
"Well, we'll set it to-night," answered Diggory, "and that shall be the last time."
The following morning Acton was sauntering towards the playground, whenDiggory came running up the path in a state of great excitement."I say, the cotton's gone!"
Acton rushed down, unlocked the door of the shed, and went inside.
"Hullo!" he exclaimed, as Diggory followed; "it issome man. Look at these footprints, and hobnailed boots into the bargain!"
It was impossible for two boys to keep such an important discovery to themselves, and the shed was soon filled with an eager crowd, all anxious to view the mysterious footprints. The Triple Alliance gained fresh renown as the originators of the scheme by which the disclosure had been made, and it was unanimously decided that the matter should be reported to Mr. Blake.
The master cross-questioned Acton and Diggory, but seemed rather inclined to doubt their story.
"I think," he said, "you must be mistaken. I expect the piece of cotton blew away, and the foot-marks must have been there before. I don't see what there is in the shed that should make it worth any one's while to break into it; besides, if the door was locked, the thief must have broken it open, and you'd have seen the marks."
Certainly nothing seemed to have been touched, and as no boy complained of any of his property having been stolen, the subject was allowed to drop, and the usual excitement connected with the end of term and the near approach of the holidays soon caused it to be driven from every one's thoughts and wellnigh forgotten.
With the commencement of the winter term a fresh matter filled the minds of the Triple Alliance, and gave them plenty of food for discussion and plan-making. On returning to Chatford after the summer holidays, they discovered that all three were destined to leave at Christmas and proceed to Ronleigh College, a large school in the neighbourhood, to which a good number of Mr. Welsby's former pupils had been transferred after undergoing a preliminary course of education at The Birches. Letters from these departed heroes, containing disjointed descriptions of their new surroundings, awakened a feeling of interest in the doings of the Ronleigh College boys. The records of their big scores at cricket, or their victories at football, which appeared in local papers, were always read with admiration; and the name of an old Birchite appearing in either of the teams was a thing of which every one felt justly proud.
"I wish I was going too," said Acton, addressing the three friends; "but my people are going to send me to a school in Germany. My brother John is there; he's one of the big chaps, and is captain of the football team this season. I'm going to get theDenfordshire Chronicleevery week, to see how they get on in the matches."
Early in October the goal-posts were put up in the field, and the Birchites commenced their football practice. Mr. Blake was a leading member of the Chatford Town Club, and although six a side was comparatively a poor business, yet under his instruction they gained a good grounding in the rudiments of the "soccer" of the period. The old system of dribbling and headlong rushes was being abandoned in favour of the passing game, and forwards were learning to keep their places, and to play as a whole instead of as individuals.
"Come here, you fellows," said the master, walking into the playground one morning, with a piece of paper in his hand; "I've got something to speak about."
The boys crowded round, wondering what was up.
"I've got here a challenge from Horace House to play a match against them, either on our ground or on theirs. I think it's a pity that you shouldn't have an opportunity of playing against strangers. Of course they are bigger and heavier than we are, and we should probably get licked; but that isn't the question: any sportsman would sooner play a losing game than no game at all, and it'll be good practice. We always used to have a match with them every term; but some little time ago there seemed to be a lack—well, I'll say of good sportsmen among them, and the meetings had to be abandoned. I've talked the matter over with Mr. Welsby, and he seems willing to give the thing another trial."
An excited murmur ran through the crowd.
"Wait a minute," interrupted the speaker, holding up his hand. "Mr. Welsby has left it with me to make arrangements for the match, and I shall only do so on one condition. I know that since the event happened to which I referred a moment ago a decidedly unfriendly spirit has existed between you and the boys at Mr. Phillips's. Now an exhibition of this feeling on a football field would be a disgrace to the school. You must play like gentlemen, and there must be no wrangling or disputing. They are agreeable for a master to play on each side, so I shall act as captain. Anything that has to be said must be left to me, and I shall see you get fair play. Do you clearly understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well, then, I'll write and say we shall be pleased to play them here on Saturday week."
The prospect of mooting the Philistines in the open field filled the mind of every boy with one thought, and the whole establishment went football mad. It was played in the schoolroom and passages with empty ink-pots and balls of paper, in the bedrooms with slippers and sponges, and even in their dreams fellows kicked the bed-clothes off, and woke up with cries of "Goal!" on their lips.
Mr. Blake arranged the order of the team, and remarking that they would need a good defence, put himself and Shaw as full backs. Acton took centre forward, with Jack Vance on his right, while Diggory was told off to keep goal.
At length the eventful morning arrived. Class 2 came utterly to grief in their work; but Mr. Blake understood the cause, and set the same lessons over again for Monday.
It was the first real match most of the players had taken part in, and as they stood on the ground waiting for their opponents to arrive, every one was trembling with excitement. The only exception was the goal-keeper, who leaned with his back against the wall, cracking nuts, and remarking that he "wished they'd hurry up and not keep us waiting all day." At length there was a sound of voices in the lane, and the next moment the enemy entered the field, headed by their under-master, Mr. Fox. Young Noaks and Hogson pounced down at once upon the practice ball, and began kicking it about with great energy, shouting at the top of their voices, and evidently wishing to make an impression on the spectators before the game began.
"I say," muttered Jacobs, "they're awfully big."
"Well, what does that matter?" answered Diggory, cracking another nut and spitting out the shell. "They aren't going to eat us; and as for that chap Noaks, he's all noise—look how he muffed that kick."
Mr. Blake tossed up. "Now, you fellows," he said, coming up to his followers, "we play towards the road; get to your places, and remember what I told you."
With young Noaks as centre forward, Hogson and Bernard on his right and left, and other big fellows to complete the line of hostile forwards, the home team seemed to stand no chance against their opponents. The visitors bowled them over like ninepins, and rushed through their first line of defence as though it never existed. But Mr. Blake stood firm, and kept his ground like the English squares at Waterloo. Attack after attack swept down upon him only to break up like waves on a rock, and the ball came flying back with a shout of "Now, then! Get away, Birches!" Twice the Horace House wing men got round Shaw, and put in good shots; but Diggory saved them both, and was seen a moment later calmly rewarding himself with another nut. Gradually, as the time slipped away and no score was made, the Birchites began to realize that being able to charge wasn't everything, and that their opponents could do more with their shoulders than with their feet, and soon lost control of the ball when bothered by the "halves." The play of the home eleven became bolder—the forwards managed a run or two; and though the Philistines had certainly the upper hand, yet it soon became obvious to them that it was no mere "walk over," and that victory would have to be struggled for.
Noaks and the two inside forwards evidently did not relish this state of things; they had expected an easy win, and began to show their disappointment in the increased roughness of their play.
At length, just before half-time, a thing happened which very nearly caused Mr. Blake's followers to break their promise.
Cross was badly kicked while attempting to take the ball from Hogson, and had to retire from the game.
There were some black looks and a murmur of indignation among the home team, but Mr. Blake hushed it up in a moment.
"I think," he said pleasantly, "that the play is a trifle rough. Our men," he added, laughing, "are rather under size."
Noaks muttered something about not funking; but Mr. Fox said,—
"Yes, just so. Come, play the game, boys, and think less about charging."
The loss of their right half-back was distinctly felt by the Birchites during the commencement of the second half, and Diggory was called upon three times in quick succession to save his charge. He acquitted himself like a brick, and the last time did a thing which afforded his side an immense amount of secret satisfaction. He caught the ball in his hands, and at the same moment Noaks made a fierce rush, meaning to knock him through the goal. Diggory, with an engaging smile, hopped on one side, and the Philistine flung himself against the post, and bumped his head with a violence which might have cracked any ordinary skull. He came back scowling. A moment later Jack Vance ran into him, and took the ball from between his feet. Noaks charged viciously, and in a blind fit of temper deliberately raised his fist and struck the other player in the face.
"Stop!"
It was Mr. Blake's voice, and he came striding up the ground looking as black as thunder.
"I protest against that deliberate piece of foul play. I have played against all the chief clubs in the district, and in any of those matches, if such a thing had happened, this man would have been ordered off the ground."
There was a buzz of approval, in which several of the Philistines joined.
"You are quite right, Mr. Blake," answered Mr. Fox. "I deeply regret that the game should have been spoiled by a member of my team.—Noaks," he added, turning to the culprit, "put on your coat and go home; you have disgraced yourself and your Comrades. I shall see that you send a written apology to the boy you struck."
"Bravo!" whispered Acton; "old Fox is a good sort."
"Oh, they're most of them all right," answered Morris; "it's only two or three that are such beasts."
The game was continued. The loss of one man on each side made the teams equal in numbers, but the sudden calamity which had overtaken their centre forward seemed to have exerted a very demoralizing effect on the Philistines.
Their attacks were not nearly so spirited, and several times theBirchite forwards appeared in front of their goal.
Neither side had scored, and it seemed as though the game would end in a draw—a result which the home team would have considered highly satisfactory.
The umpire looked at his watch, and in answer to a query from Mr. Fox said, "Five minutes more."
"Look here, Acton," said Mr. Blake: "let me take your place, and you go back. Do all you can to stop them if they come."
The ball was thrown out of touch; Mr. Blake got it, and in a few seconds the fight was raging in the very mouth of the enemy's goal. Morris put in a capital shot; but the ball glanced off one of the players, and went behind.
"Corner!" cried Mr. Blake. "I'll take it. Now you fellows get it through somehow or other!"
"Mark your men, Horace House!" cried Mr. Fox. The next moment every one was shoving and elbowing with their eyes fixed on the ball as it flew through the air. It dropped in exactly the right place, and Jack Vance, by some happy fluke, kicked it just as it touched the ground. Like a big round shot it whizzed through the posts, and there was a rapturous yell of "Goal!"
The delight of the Birchites at having beaten their opponents was unbounded, and when, a short time later, the latter retired with a score against them of one to nil. Jack Vance was seized by a band of applauding comrades, who, with his head about a couple of feet lower than his heels, carried him in triumph across the playground, and staggered half-way up the steep garden path, when Acton happening to tread on a loose pebble brought the whole procession to grief, and caused the noble band of conquering heroes to be seen all grovelling in a mixed heap upon the gravel.
But it is not for the simple purpose of recording the victory over Horace House that a description of the match has been introduced into our story; and although the important part played by Diggory in goal and Jack Vance in the "fighting line" caused it to be an occasion when the Triple Alliance was decidedly in evidence and won fresh laurels, yet there are other reasons which make an account of it necessary, as the reader will discover in following the course of subsequent events. If Jack Vance had kicked the ball a yard over the bar instead of under it, the probability is that the following chapter would never have been written; while the public disgrace of young Noaks was destined to cause our three comrades more trouble than they ever expected to encounter, at all events on this side of their leaving school.
If the result of the match made such a great impression on the minds of the victors, it is only natural that it should have had a similar effect on the hearts of their opponents. Most of the Philistines would have been content to take their defeat as a sportsman should, but neither Noaks nor his two cronies, Hogson and Bernard, had any of this manly spirit about them; and smarting under the disappointment of not having won, and the knowledge that at least one of them had reaped shame and contempt instead of glory, they determined to seek a speedy revenge. As the three biggest boys in the school, they had little difficulty in inducing their companions to join in the crusade which they preached against The Birches, and the consequence was that the two schools were soon exchanging open hostilities with greater vigour than ever.
Now, although the Birchites had proved themselves equal to their opponents at football, they would have stood no chance against them in anything like a personal encounter. The other party were, of course, perfectly well aware of this fact, and waxed bold in consequence. Again and again, when Mr. Welsby's pupils were at football practice, and Mr. Blake happened not to be present, the enemy's sharp-shooter crept into ambush behind the hedge and discharged stones from their catapults at the legs of the players, while the latter replied by inquiring when they meant to "come over and take another licking." At other times these Horace House Cossacks swooped down on single members of the rival establishment, harrying them in the very streets of Chatford, and on one occasion had the audacity to lay violent hands on Jacobs, beat his bowler hat down over his eyes, and push him through the folding doors of a drapery establishment, where he upset an umbrella-stand and three chairs, had his ears boxed by the shop-walker, and was threatened with the police court if ever he did such a thing again! At length it became positively perilous for the weaker party to go beyond the precincts of their own citadel except in bodies of three or four together. All kinds of plans for retaliation were suggested, but still the Philistines continued to score heavily. At length, about the last week in October, a thing happened which raised the wrath of the Birchites to boiling-point.
Cross having received five shillings from home on the morning of his birthday, determined to celebrate the occasion by the purchase of a pork-pie, of which he had previously invited all his companions to partake. The latter were standing in the playground waiting for his return from Chatford, when they became conscious of certain "alarms without;" whoops and war-cries sounded somewhere down Locker's Lane, and ceased as suddenly as they had begun. The boys stood for some moments wondering what this could mean, and were just thinking of starting a fresh game of "catch smugglers," when there came a banging at the door. It was flung open, and Cross rushed into their midst, flushed, dishevelled, and empty-handed!
What words of mine can tell that tale of woe or describe the burst of indignation which followed its recital? Cross had unwisely decided to shorten his return journey by risking the dangers of Locker's Lane. He had been captured by a party of Philistines, who, under the leadership of Hogson, had not only robbed him of his pie, but had held him prisoner while they devoured it before his very eyes!
What this terrible outrage would have excited those who had suffered this cruel wrong to do in return—whether they would have started off there and then, burnt Horace House to the ground, and hung its inhabitants on the surrounding trees—it would be hard to say; as it was, at this very moment a counter-attraction was forced upon their attention by Morris, who came shouldering his way into their midst, saying,—
"Look here, you fellows, some one's stolen my watch and chain!"
It seemed as if a perfect shower of thunderbolts had commenced to descend from a clear sky upon the devoted heads of Mr. Welsby's pupils. Every one stared at his neighbour in mute amazement, and only Fred Acton remained in sufficient possession of his faculties to gasp out,—
"What?"
"It's true," continued Morris excitedly. "I didn't change for football yesterday afternoon, but before going into the field I hung my watch up on a nail in the shed, and stupidly forgot all about it until I came to wind it up last night. Then it was too late to fetch it, and now it's gone!"
"Look here !" cried Acton, glaring round the group with an unusually ferocious look, "who knows anything about this? speak up, can't you! We've had enough of this prigging business, and I'm sick of it!"
No one attempted to reply.
"Well," continued the dux, "I'm going straight off to old Welsby to tell him, and I won't keep the key of that place. Of course it makes me look as if I were the thief, and I won't stand it any longer."
The speaker turned on his heel and strode off in the direction of the house.
"Oh, I say," muttered Jack Vance, "now there'll be a row!"
Jack's prophecy was soon fulfilled. The watch and chain could not be found, and there was but little doubt that they had been stolen. Mr. Welsby called the boys together, and though he spoke in a calm and collected manner, with no trace of passion in his voice, yet his words made them all tremble. Miss Eleanor sat silent at the tea-table, with a shocked expression on her face; and Mr. Blake, when told of the occurrence, said sharply, "Well, we'd better have locks put on everything, and the sooner the better."
Acton produced his bunch of keys, and insisted that all his possessions should be searched, and every one else followed his example. The whole of the next afternoon was spent in a careful examination of desks and boxes, but with no result beyond the discovery that Mugford owned a cord waistcoat which he had 'never had the moral courage to wear.
There is one feature in the administration of justice by an English court which is unhappily too often overlooked in the lynch law of schoolboys, and that is the principle that a man shall be considered innocent until he has been clearly proved guilty. Smarting under a sense of shame which was entirely unmerited, every boy sought eagerly for some object on which to vent his indignation; it became necessary, to use the words of the comic opera, that "a victim should be found," and suspicion fell on Kennedy and Jacobs. The result of Diggory's trap seemed to show that the various thefts had been committed at night. It was agreed that the two occupants of the "Main-top" had special opportunity for getting out of the house if so minded; every other room had one or more fellows in it who had suffered the loss of some property; and lastly, Kennedy was known to possess a pair of hob-nailed fishing-boots, which he usually kept under his bed. The two boys indignantly denied the accusation when it was first brought against them, but the very vehemence with which they protested their innocence was regarded as "put on," and accepted as an additional proof of their guilt. The evidence, however, was not thought sufficient to warrant bringing a charge against them before the head-master, and accordingly it was decided to send them both to Coventry until some fresh light should be brought to bear upon the case.
To do full justice to the memory of Diggory Trevanock, he alone stood out against this decision, and incurred the wrath both of Acton and Jack Vance in so doing. He continued to affirm that it must be the man he had seen in the playground on the occasion of the first meeting of the supper club; and that the footprint in the dust had been a man's, and much larger than Kennedy's boot could have produced.
This outlawing of the "Main-top" and difference of opinion with Diggory spoiled all chance of games and good fellowship. Even the association of the Triple Alliance seemed likely to end in an open rupture, and very possibly might have done so if it had not been for an event which caused the members to reunite against the common enemy.
One half-holiday afternoon Mugford and Diggory had gone down to Chatford. It was nearly dark when they started to come back, and the latter proposed the short cut by Locker's Lane.
"I'm not afraid of the Philistines; besides, they won't see us now."
As they drew near to Horace House, a solitary figure was discovered standing in the shadow of the brick wall.
"It's young Noaks," whispered Diggory. "It's too late to turn back, but most likely he won't notice us in this light if we walk straight on."
They passed him successfully, and were just opposite the entrance, when three more boys sauntered through the doorway. A gleam of light from the house happened to fall on Diggory's cap and broad white collar, and immediately the shout was raised, "Birchites!"
There was a rush of feet, a wild moment of grabbing and dodging, and Mugford, who had managed somehow to shake himself free from the grasp of his assailants, dashed off at full speed down the road. After running for about two hundred yards, and finding he was not followed, he pulled up, waited and listened, and then began cautiously to retrace his steps. There was no sign either of his companion or the enemy; and though he ventured back as far as the double doors, which were now closed, not a soul was to be seen. He knew in a moment that his class-mate had been captured, but all hope of attempting anything in the shape of a rescue was out of the question. It was impossible for him single-handed to storm the fortress, and so, after lingering about for some minutes in the hope that his friend would reappear, he ran home as fast as he could, and bursting into the schoolroom, where most of his schoolfellows sat reading round the fire, threw them into a great state of consternation and dismay by proclaiming in a loud voice the alarming intelligence that Diggory had been taken prisoner, and was at that moment in the hands of the Philistines!
The news caused a profound sensation, the like of which had probably never been witnessed at The Birches before—no, not even on that memorable occasion when the intelligence arrived that Scourer, one of the past seniors, had ridden his bicycle through the plate-glass window of Brown's big crockery-shop, and was being brought home on a shutter.
All the boys threw down their books, and started to their feet. Acton and Vance banished from their minds all thought of the disagreement which had lately estranged them from their unfortunate school-fellow, and joined heartily in the general outburst of wrath and consternation.
The thought that Diggory, their well-beloved, was at that very moment languishing, a prisoner of war, in the hands of the Philistines was almost unbearable.
"What will they do with him?"—"Where have they put him?"—"How can we rescue the fellow?" were questions which everybody was asking, but no one could answer. It seemed altogether beyond their power to do anything, and yet there was not a boy who would not have given his dearest possession, were it a white rat or a stamp collection, if by parting with it he could have rendered some assistance to his ill-fated comrade.
"There's only half an hour before tea," said Vance, looking up at the clock; "if anything can be done, we must do it at once."
The precious moments sped away, but in vain did the assembly rack their brains for some plan of action which might in any way be likely to serve the purpose they had in view. The first wild suggestion, that they should go in a body and carry Horace House by storm, was abandoned as impracticable; in hopeless inactivity they stood watching the long hand of the clock creep up from six till twelve.
The first tea-bell had just finished ringing, when there was a sound of footsteps hurrying along the passage, the door burst open, and in rushed no other person than Diggory himself!
"Hullo! how did you get away?"—"What have they been doing?"—"How did you escape?"
"Oh, such a lark!" cried the boy. "They'll wish they'd never caught me!I'll tell you all about it after tea."
As soon as the meal was over, Diggory was seized, hurried up into the schoolroom, and there forced to relate his adventures.
"Well," he began, "they collared me, and dragged me through the gates and along into their playground. Noaks looked at me and said, 'Hullo, here's luck! This is the young beggar who tied that rope to the scrapers; I vote we give him a jolly good licking.' I told them that my father was a lawyer, and if any of them touched me he'd take a summons out against them for assault. That frightened Noaks, for you can see he's a regular coward, so he asked the others what they thought had better be done with me.
"'I know,' said Hogson. 'There's an old cow-shed in the field next to ours; let's shut him in and keep him there till after tea. He'll get a jolly row for being late when he gets back, and he won't dare to say where he's been; because I know it's against their rules to come anywhere near us, and Locker's Lane is out of bounds. If he does tell, we'll swear he was in the road chucking stones at the windows.'
"Some one said there was only a staple on the door of the shed, butNoaks said he'd fetch the padlock off his play-box, and so he did.
"Well, they took me across their playing field, and over the hedge into the next, and shut me up in this beastly old hovel. 'It's no use your making a row,' said Hogson, 'because no one'll hear you; and if you do, summons or no summons we'll come down and give you a licking.' After that they left me, and went back to the house; and as soon as they'd gone, I began to try to find some way of escape, but it was so dark inside the shed I couldn't see anything. Presently I heard a knocking on the boards. There was a wide crack between them in one place, and looking through it I could just make out that there was some boy standing there with what looked like a dirty apron over his trousers. I said, 'Hullo!' and he said, 'Hullo! what's up? who are you? and what have they been a-sticking of you in there for?'
"I told him, and asked him who he was, and it turned out his name was Joe Crump, and he's the boy who cleans the knives at Philips's. He happened to be knocking about when they took me prisoner, and he couldn't see who it was in the dark, and thought it might be his younger brother who comes on errands from the grocer's; the Philistines are always playing tricks on him.
"I said, 'Look here, Joe Crump, you let me out, there's a good chap.' But he wouldn't; he was afraid of what young Noaks would do to him. At last I gave him a shilling through the crack of the boards, and vowed I wouldn't say who'd done it, and then he undid the door. I fastened the padlock again, and threw the key into the hedge, for Noaks had left it in the keyhole; so now he won't be able to get his lock again unless he either breaks it or the staple, and they're both pretty tough. After that I got round through two other fields into the lane, and here I am."
The conclusion of Diggory's story was hailed with shouts of triumph. To imagine the disappointment of the Philistines when they discovered that the bird had flown, and the chagrin of young Noaks when he found that his play-box padlock was fastened to the door of the shed, was simply delightful; and Acton was so carried away that he once more fell on Diggory's neck, and pretended to shed tears of joy upon the latter's broad turn-down collar.
"But that's not all," cried the youngster, shaking himself free from his leader's embrace. "The best is this. I had a bit of a talk with Joe Crump before I came away, and he says that young Noaks is going to leave at the end of this term, and he's been telling the Philistines that before he goes he means to do something that'll pay us out for his being sent off the field in that football match. Crump doesn't know what he means to do, but I made him promise, if he finds out, to come and tell me, and I'll give him another shilling. Then we shall be prepared."
"I say, Diggy," exclaimed Jack Vance, "you are acorker!" and the bell now commencing to ring for evening preparation, the meeting terminated.
It was an annual custom at The Birches for the boys to subscribe towards getting a display of fireworks, which were let off in the playground under the superintendence of Mr. Blake. The head-master himself gave a donation towards the fund, and allowed the boys to prepare the next day's work in the afternoon instead of in the evening.
This year, however, when Acton went, as usual, to the library to formally ask permission that the celebration should take place, he met with a terrible rebuff.
"No, Acton," answered Mr. Welsby; "as long as the school continues to be disgraced by these repeated thefts—as, for example, this recent instance of Morris's watch and chain—I do not feel inclined to allow the same privileges as before. There will be no fireworks this term."
As may be imagined, when the dux reported the result of his visit to head-quarters, the news created great excitement. The unfortunate occupants of the "Main-top," who were still in the position of scapegoats, were hunted round the place by an indignant mob, and fled, vainly protesting their innocence, from one shelter to another, until they finally escaped from the playing field into the open country, where they hid behind hedges for the remainder of the afternoon.
"Look here," exclaimed Jack Vance, as the Triple Alliance were wending their way from the playground to the house, "there's only one thing to be done, and that is, we must set Miss Eleanor on old Welsby's track. She'll make him alter his mind. Some one must go and ask her.—Acton, you're the man; you must do it!"
"I'm shot if I do!" answered the dux, turning round to face the trio, and walking backwards up the path; "why should I go more than any other fellow?"
"Why, because you've got such a way with you," returned Diggory. "She'd be sure to do it for you; why, the last time you spoke to her she gave you a lump of cake."
Acton seized the speaker by the neck and shook him like a rat. "You're the cheekiest little imp I ever came across," he said. "I've a jolly good mind to give you a good licking, only I don't believe you'd care tu'pence if I did!"
"Well, anyhow you've got to go," answered Diggory, calmly picking up his cap, which had fallen to the ground; "and if you're afraid to go alone for fear she should think it's another proposal, I'll come with you."
After some further discussion it was agreed that the thing should be attempted. The two boys found Miss Eleanor making cake, and the conference began by Diggory's having his ears boxed for picking plums out of the dough. But no one ever appealed to Miss Eleanor without being sure, at all events, of a patient hearing, and the following morning Mr. Welsby informed the school that he had been led to reconsider his decision regarding the fifth of November, and that they might have their display as usual.
Accordingly, the fireworks were ordered, and arrived soon after breakfast on the morning of the fourth. Miss Eleanor had a dread of gunpowder, and Mr. Blake sent Jack Vance to tell Noaks to carry the box as usual down into the shed.
"Humph!" growled the man, as the boy gave him the message. "It's a nice thing that I should have to fetch and carry all your fooling playthings for you; it's a pity you young gen'lemen can't do something for yourselves, instead of bothering me."
"Well, it isn't my orders," answered Jack; "it's Mr. Blake's."
"Mr. Blake's, is it? All right, I'll do it when I can spare the time."
When the boys came out at interval, the box was still lying about in the yard, although there were heavy clouds overhead threatening rain. Mr. Blake sent for Noaks, and a rather sharp passage of arms took place between them, which ended in the man's being told to leave what he was doing and carry the fireworks down to the shed.
"I believe he left them on purpose, in the hope they'd get wet," said Shaw. "He hates us all like poison, and I believe it's all because his son's at the other school. D'you remember what a row he kicked up when he heard Acton say that the Philistines were cads for shooting at us with catapults?"
"Yes," answered Morris; "and if he hates us, he hates Blake a jolly sight worse. He's been like it ever since that football match; and he'll get sacked if he doesn't mind, for Blake won't stand his cheek much longer."
The purchase of fireworks had this year been more extensive than on any previous occasion, and every one was looking forward with great anticipation to the business of the following evening.
"I say, Diggy," cried Acton at the close of afternoon school, "I wish you'd run down into the playground and bring up that football flag that's got to be mended; I left it in the corner by the shed. I'd go myself, but I want to finish this letter before tea."
Diggory trotted off to fetch the flag, and Jack Vance, who was loitering about one of the passages, accompanied him down into the playground. It was very dark, the stars being hidden by heavy clouds.
"I say," exclaimed Diggory, "it'll be a splendid night for the fireworks if it's like this to-morrow. We must get—Hark! what's that?"
"I didn't hear anything."
"Yes, there was a sort of a rapping sound. Hush! there it is again."
Jack heard it this time. "It's some one knocking very gently against that door leading into Locker's Lane," he whispered.
They groped their way across the playground until they reached the wall. There was no mistake about it—some one was gently tapping with his knuckles on the other side of the door.
"Who's there?" asked Jack Vance.
"I want to speak to the young gen'leman who was locked up t'other day in the cow-shed," was the answer, given in a low voice which Diggory instantly recognized.
"I know him," he said; "it's Joe Crump. Here, give me a leg up, andI'll talk to him over the wall.—All right, Joe; I'm the chap."
"Well, if you are," answered the voice, "you'll remember you offered me a bob if I could find out and tell you when somebody was going to do something."
"Well, what's the news?"
"Give me the money first, and then I'll tell you."
Jack Vance fortunately had the required coin in his pocket, and Diggory dropped it into Joe Crump's cap.
"Well, the news is this," said the latter, speaking in the same low tone—"that there Noaks and Hogson are coming up here to-night just afore nine o'clock, and they're a-going to drown your fireworks."
"Drown our fireworks! why, what ever d'you mean? How do they know we've got any fireworks? and how can they get at them when they're all locked up?"
"I can't say," returned Crump, "so it's no use asking me. I only knows that Noaks is a-going to do it; 'drown 'em all in a bucket of water,' was what he said. Remember you promised to tell nothink about me, that's all. Good-night, mister!"
The stranger vanished in the darkness, and Diggory dropped down from the wall.
"Here's a pretty go!" he remarked. "What are we to do? there's no time to lose. Come on, Jack, let's go and tell Acton."
The latter was engaged on the closing sentence of his letter; but on hearing the intelligence which Diggory had to impart, he threw the unfinished epistle into his desk, and rose to his feet with an exclamation of astonishment.
"D'you think it's really true? or is this fellow, Lump or Bump or whatever you call him, trying to take a rise out of us, or telling lies to earn the shilling?"
"I don't think so," answered Diggory, "and I'll tell you why. For some reason or other, he's at daggers drawn with young Noaks and Hogson. I think they've knocked him about, and he's doing it to pay them out."
"But how did they get to know about our fireworks? and how do they reckon they're going to get them out of the shed? Look here, hadn't we better tell Blake?"
"We can't do that," answered Jack Vance, "or it'll get Diggy in a row. If he says anything about Joe Crump, it'll all come out about his having been in Locker's Lane when the Philistines caught him, and of course that's against rules."
"What time did he say they meant to come?"
"About a quarter to nine."
There was a silence which lasted for over a minute; then Diggory spoke.
"This is what I think we'd better do. If they come at all, they are certain to be here soon after half-past eight, because I heard Fox telling Blake on the day of the match that they go to bed at nine. We won't tell any one, but as soon as 'prep' is over we'll cut down into the playground, and when they come we'll kick up a row. They'll soon make tracks if they find they're discovered, and it'll be better than saying anything to Blake about it, and we shall have defeated them ourselves."
"All right," answered Acton. "But it'll look queer if we all three stop out from supper; two's enough. I'll go for one, and you and Vance toss up."
This suggestion was accepted with some reluctance, as both boys were anxious to take part in the adventure. Acton's word, however, was law, and eventually Diggory was chosen by fate to be his companion.
Directly after tea all the boys paid a visit to the shed; the door was securely locked, as also was the one leading into Locker's Lane, and it seemed impossible for the Philistines to carry out their evil designs upon the fireworks.
"I believe it's all bunkum," said Acton, as they strolled back towards the house. "However, we'll come down as we said, and just see if anything happens."
Three boys, at all events, did very little work that evening, for it was impossible to concentrate one's mind on Caesar or on French verbs with such an adventure looming in the near future. How would the Philistines get at the fireworks? Would they change their minds, and instead of drowning them apply a slow match and blow up the shed? or would it, after all, turn out to be only a false alarm, raised by the boy Crump for the sake of the promised shilling?
These and other thoughts filled the minds of the trio as they sat frowning at the books in front of them. The clock seemed to go slower and slower, until they really began to wonder whether it had stopped. At length the long hand reached the half-past. Mr. Blake yawned, put down his paper, and said, "Put away your work, and pass on to supper."
Acton and Diggory, both tingling with excitement, lingered behind until the rest had left the room; then, when the coast was clear, they slipped out into the garden, and hurried down the sloping path. It was considerably lighter than it had been before tea; the clouds had cleared away, and there were plenty of stars.
"Locked," muttered Acton, examining the shed. "Locked," he repeated, trying the door leading into Locker's Lane. "I don't believe there's anything in it. They might get over the wall if one gave the other a leg up, but then how's the last man to get back again?"
"Well, if there's nothing in it," answered Diggory, "how should JoeCrump have got to know we had any fireworks in the place? There must—Hush! what's that?"
There was a sound of footsteps coming down the path from the house. "Cave!" cried Acton. "It's Blake; let's hide!"
Several shrubs growing in the garden and overhanging the boarded partition threw one corner of the playground into deep shadow. The boys rushed into the angle, and, crouching down in the inky darkness, were at once hidden from the view of any one who might advance even to within a few feet of their hiding-place.
They had hardly time to conceal themselves, when a man, the outline of whose figure they could just make out in the gloom, came through the garden door, and, advancing a few yards, stood still, turning his head from side to side as though looking to make sure that the quadrangle was empty.
"He heard us talking," whispered Acton.
The new-comer having apparently come to the conclusion that he was alone, walked slowly across to the shed, halted in front of the door, and the next moment there was the sound of a key being fitted into the lock. At that instant Diggory, who had been craning his neck forward to get a better view of the intruder, suddenly gripped Acton's arm, and, putting his mouth close to the latter's ear, whispered,—
"It isn't Blake; it's old Noaks!Now keep quiet," he added, as his companion made a movement as though he meant to rush out of their hiding-place; "let's see what he does."
"He's the thief who stole all those things!" answered Acton excitedly."He must have another key, and he's going to bag something now."
Noaks (for certainly it was he) disappeared inside the shed; but in a few seconds he was out again, and once more stood waiting as though undecided what to do next.
Before the boys could have counted ten, there was a low whistle in the lane.
"They've come," whispered Diggory. "He's got the key of the door, and is going to let them in."
His words were speedily verified, and the next moment two more figures entered the playground, the object of their visit being at once made evident by the fact that one of them was carrying a bucket. It was too dark to distinguish their faces, but the short conversation which took place on their entry soon made them known to the two watchers.
"Now, then," said old Noaks, "if you're going to do it, just look sharp."
"Awful joke, isn't it, dad?" answered one of the new-comers. "Lend us a hand, and we'll dip 'em all in this bucket and put 'em back again."
"No, I shan't," returned the man. "I don't know nothink about it.It's your game, and all I promised was I'd open the door."
"Well, show us where the box is.—Come on, Hogson; don't make more row than you can help."
After a moment's hesitation and some muttered remarks about "that there Blake" and "them uppish young dogs," Noaks senior led the way across the gravel, and followed by the two Philistines entered the shed. Hardly had they crossed the threshold when Diggory started up, kicked off his slippers, crept swiftly and noiselessly as a shadow across the ground, and before his companion had time to realize what was happening, the door of the shed was slammed to and locked on the outside.
To describe exactly what followed would be well-nigh impossible, as even the principal actors themselves seemed to have but a confused recollection of the part they played. Those concerned, however, will probably never forget Diggory's bursting into the room as they sat finishing supper, and striking every one dumb with amazement by saying to Mr. Blake, "Please, sir, some fellows are stealing our fireworks, and I've locked them up in the shed." And there will still remain in their minds memories of a wild rush to the playground; of old Noaks being peremptorily ordered to "clear out," and on attempting to bandy words with Mr. Blake, being taken by the scruff of the neck and "chucked out;" of the two Philistines being conducted, under a strong escort, to Mr. Welsby's study; of a polite note being dispatched by the latter to Mr. Philips; and of the unmitigated delight of the Birchites when Hogson and Noaks junior were delivered over into the hands of Mr. Fox, and marched off by that gentleman to take their trial at Horace House. Every one was in high spirits. Acton and Diggory were made to tell their story over twenty times. Kennedy and Jacobs were at once declared innocent, and instead of being looked upon as outcasts, came to be regarded as martyrs who had suffered in a good cause. Old Noaks was clearly the culprit. He volunteered no explanation as regarded his possession of a duplicate key to the shed door, and though no attempt was made to bring the charge home against him, there was little doubt as to his guilt, and he was dismissed the next morning.
The firework display came off the following evening, and was a great success. Every rocket or Roman candle that shot into the air seemed to attest the final triumph of the Birchites over the Philistines, and was cheered accordingly. I say final triumph, for the removal of young Noaks and Hogson from the rival school caused a great change for the better among the ranks of Horace House. The old feud died out, giving place to a far better spirit, which was manifested each term in the friendly manner in which the teams met for matches at cricket and football.
This sounds very much like the end of a story; but it is not, and for a connecting-link to join this chapter to those that follow, we will go forward for one moment into the future.
Nearly a year later Diggory and Jack Vance were sauntering arm in arm across one of the fives-courts at Ronleigh College.
"D'you remember," remarked the former, "how, that night we caught the Philistines bagging our fireworks, you said, 'Well, I should think now we've just about finished with young Noaks'?"
"Did I?" answered Jack, shrugging his shoulders. "My eye, I ought to have said we'd just begun!"