The Fifth Form at Saint Dominic's: A School Story

  CHAPTER NINE.

  A ROD IN PICKLE.

  Loman, who had arrived at the same conclusion respecting Oliver'sbravery as the majority in the Fifth, did not allow his conscience totrouble him as to his share of the morning's business. He never hadliked Oliver, and lately especially he had come to dislike him. He wastherefore glad to have made him smart; and now, since the blunder in thecricket match, he felt greatly inclined to repeat the blow, particularlyas there did not seem much to fear if he did so.

  He was quick, too, to see that Oliver had lost favour with his comrades,and had no hesitation in availing himself of every opportunity ofwidening the breach. He affected to be sorry for the poor fellow, andto feel that he had been too hard on him, and so on, in a manner which,while it offended the Fifth, as applied to one of their set, exasperatedthem all the more against Oliver. And so matters went on, getting moreand more unsatisfactory.

  Loman, however, had other things to think of than his rival's cowardice,and foremost among these was his new fishing-rod--or rather, the rodwhich he coveted for his own. Until the day after the Alphabet Match hehad not even had time to examine his treasure. Three pounds ten was anappalling figure to pay for a rod; "But then," thought Loman, "if it'sreally a good one, and worth half as much again, it would be a pity tomiss such a bargain;" and every one knew the Crippses, father and son,were authorities on all matters pertaining to the piscatorial art.Loman, too, was never badly off for pocket-money, and could easily raisethe amount, he felt sure, when he represented the case at home. So hetook the rod out of its canvas bag, and began to put it together.

  Now, a boy's study is hardly the place in which to flourish afishing-rod, and Loman found that with the butt down in one bottomcorner of the room, the top joint would have to be put on up in theopposite top corner. When this complicated operation was over, therewas no room to move it from its position, still less to judge of itsweight and spring, or attach the winch and line. Happy thought! thewindow! He would have any amount of scope there. So, taking it topieces, and putting it together again in this new direction, he had thesatisfaction of testing it at its full length. He was pleased with therod, on the whole. He attached the line, with a fly at the end, inorder to give it a thorough trial, and gave a scientific "cast" into animaginary pool. It was a splendid rod, just right for him; how hewished he was up above Gusset Weir at that moment! Why, he could--

  Here he attempted to draw up the rod. There was an ugly tug and a crackas he did so, and he found, to his disgust, that the hook, havingnothing else to catch, had caught the ivy on the wall, and, what wasworse, that the top joint of the rod had either snapped or cracked inits inability to bring this weighty catch to shore. It was a long timebefore Loman was able to disengage his line, and bring the rod in againat the window. The top joint was cracked. It looked all right as heheld it, but when he tried to bend it it had lost its spring, and thecrack showed only too plainly. Another misfortune still was in store.The reel in winding up suddenly stuck. Loman, fancying it had onlycaught temporarily, tried to force it, and in so doing the spring broke,and the handle turned uselessly round and round in his hand. This _was_a streak of bad luck, and no mistake! The rod was not his, and what wasworse, it was (so Cripps said) a rod of extraordinary excellence andvalue. Loman had his doubts now about this. A first-rate top-piecewould bend nearly double and then not break, and a reel that broke atthe least pressure could hardly be of the best kind. Still, Crippsthought a lot of it, and Loman had undoubtedly himself alone to blamefor the accidents which had occurred. As it was, the rod was nowuseless. He knew there was no place in Maltby where he could get itrepaired, and it was hardly to be expected that Cripps would take itback.

  What was to be done? Either he must pay 3 pounds 10 shillings for a rodof no value, or--

  He slowly took the rod to pieces and put it back into the canvas bag.The top joint after all did not look amiss; and, yes, there was a_little_ bit of elasticity in it. Perhaps the crack was only his fancy;or perhaps the crack was there when he got it. As to the reel, itlooked as if it _ought_ to work, and perhaps it would if he only knewthe way. Ah! suppose he just sent the rod back to Cripps with a messagethat he found he did not require it? He would not say he had not usedit, but if Cripps chose to imagine he received it back just as he sentit, well, what harm? Cripps would be sure to sell it to some one else,or else put it by (he had said he possessed a rod of his own). If he,Loman, had felt quite certain that he had damaged the rod himself, ofcourse he would not think of such a thing; but he was not at all certainthe thing was not defective to begin with. In any case it was aninferior rod--that he had no doubt about--and Cripps was not actinghonestly by trying to pass it off on him as one of the best make. Yes,it would serve Cripps right, and be a lesson to him, and he was sure,yes, quite sure now, it had been damaged to begin with.

  And so the boy argued with himself and coquetted with the tempter.Before the afternoon was over he felt (as he imagined) quite comfortablein his own mind over the affair. The rod was tied up again in its bagexactly as it had been before, and only wanted an opportunity to bereturned to Mr Cripps.

  After that Loman settled down to an evening's study. But things wereagainst him again. Comfortable as his conscience was, that top jointwould not let him alone. It seemed to get into his hand in place of thepen, and to point out the words in the lexicon in place of his finger.He tried not to mind it, but it annoyed him, and, what was worse,interfered with his work. So, shutting up his books, and imagining achange of air might be beneficial, he went off to Callonby's study,there to gossip for an hour or two, and finally rid himself of histormentor.

  Stephen, meanwhile, had had Mr Cripps on his mind too, for thatafternoon his bat had come home. It was addressed to "Mr Greenfield,Saint Dominic's," and of course taken to Oliver, who wondered much toreceive a small size cricket-bat in a parcel. Master Paul, however, whowas in attendance, was able to clear up the mystery.

  "Oh! that's your young brother's, I expect; he said he had got a batcoming."

  "All I can say is, he must be more flush of cash than I am, to go in fora thing like this. Send him here, Paul."

  So Paul vanished, and presently Stephen put in an appearance, blushing,and anxious-looking.

  "Is this yours?" asked the elder brother.

  "Yes; did Mr Cripps send it?"

  "Mr Cripps the lock-keeper?"

  "No, his son. He said he would get it for me. I say, is that a goodbat, Oliver?"

  "Nothing out of the way. But, I say, young 'un, how much have you givenfor it?"

  "Not anything yet. Mr Cripps said I could pay in June, when I get mynext pocket-money."

  "What on earth has he to do with when you get your pocket-money?"demanded Oliver. "Who is this young Cripps? He's a cad, isn't he?"

  "He seemed a very nice man," said Stephen.

  "Well, look here! the less you have to do with men like him the better.What is the price of the bat?"

  "I don't know; it's one Mr Cripps had himself when he was a boy. Hesays it's a beauty! I say, it looks as good as new, Oliver."

  "You young muff!" said the elder brother; "I expect the fellow'sswindling you. Find out what he wants for it at once, and pay him; I'mnot going to let you run into debt."

  "But I can't; I've only two shillings left," said Stephen, dejectedly.

  "Why, whatever have you done with the five shillings you had last week?"

  Stephen blushed, and then faltered, "I spent sixpence on stamps andsixpence on--on brandy-balls!"

  "I thought so. And what did you do with the rest?"

  "Oh! I--I--that is--I--gave them away."

  "Gave them away! Who to--to Bramble?"

  "No," said Stephen, laughing at the idea; "I gave them to a poor oldman!"

  "Where?--when? Upon my word, Stephen, you _are_ a jackass--who to?"

  And then Stephen confessed, and the elder brother rated him soundly forhis folly, till the little fellow felt quite mis
erable and ashamed ofhimself. In the end, Oliver insisted on Stephen finding out at oncewhat the price of the bat was, and promised he would lend his brotherthe money for it. In return for this, Stephen promised to make no morepurchases of this kind without first consulting Oliver, and at thisjuncture Wraysford turned up, and Stephen beat a retreat with his batover his shoulder.

  The two friends had not been alone together since _the fracas_ in theFifth two days before, and both now appeared glad of an opportunity oftalking over that and subsequent events.

  "I suppose you know a lot of the fellows are very sore at you for notthrashing Loman?" said Wraysford.

  "I guessed they would be. Are you riled, too, Wray?"

  "Not I! I know what _I_ should have done myself, but I suppose you knowyour own business best."

  "I was greatly tempted to let out," said Oliver, "but the fact is--Iknow you'll jeer, Wray--the fact is, I've been trying feebly to turnover a new leaf this term."

  Wraysford said "Oh!" and looked uncomfortable.

  "And one of the things I wanted to keep out of was losing my temper,which you know is not a good one."

  "Not at all," said Wraysford, meaning quite the opposite to what hesaid.

  "Well, if you'll believe me, I've lost my temper oftener in trying tokeep this resolution than I ever remember to have done before. But onFriday it came over me just as I was going to thrash Loman. That's whyI didn't."

  Wraysford looked greatly relieved when this confession was over. "Youare a rum fellow, Noll," said he, after a pause, "and of course it isall right; but the fellows don't know your reason, and think you showedthe white feather."

  "Let them think!" shouted Oliver, in a voice so loud and angry thatMaster Paul came to the door and asked what he wanted.

  "What do I care what they think?" continued Oliver, forgetting all abouthis temper; "they can think what they like, but they had better let mealone. I'd like to knock all their heads together! so I would!"

  "Steady, old man!" said Wraysford, good-humouredly; "I quite agree withyou. But I say, Noll, I think it's a pity you don't put yourself rightwith them and the school generally, somehow. Everybody heard Loman callyou a fool yesterday, and you know our fellows are so clannish that theythink, for the credit of the Fifth, something ought to be done."

  "Let them send Braddy to thrash him, then; I don't intend to fight toplease _them_!"

  "Oh! that's all right. And if they all knew what you've told me theywould understand it; but as it is, they don't."

  "They'll find out some day, most likely," growled Oliver; "I'm not goingto bother any more about it. I say, Wray, do you know anything ofCripps's son?"

  "Yes. Don't you know he keeps a dirty public-house in Maltby?--aregular cad, they say. The fishing-fellows have seen him up at the Weirnow and then."

  "I don't know how he came across him, but my young brother has just beenbuying a bat from him, and I don't much fancy it."

  "No, the youngster won't get any good with that fellow; you had bettertell him," said Wraysford.

  "So I have, and he won't do it again."

  Shortly after this Pembury hobbled in on his way to bed.

  "You're a pretty fellow," said he to Oliver; "not one of our fellowscares a rush about the _Dominican_ since you made yourself into thelatest sensation."

  "Oh, don't let us have that up again," implored Oliver.

  "All very well, but what is to become of the _Dominican_?"

  "Oh, have a special extra number about me. Call me a coward, and afool, and a Tadpole, any mortal thing you like, only shut up about theaffair now!"

  Pembury looked concerned.

  "Allow me to feel your pulse," said he to Oliver.

  "Feel away," said Oliver, glad of any diversion.

  "Hum! As I feared--feverish. Oliver, my boy, you are not well.Wandering a bit in your mind, too; get to bed. Be better soon. Able totalk like an ordinary rational animal then, and not like an animatedtom-cat. Good-bye!"

  And so saying he departed, leaving the friends too much amused to beangry at his rudeness.

  The two friends did a steady evening's work after this, and the thoughtof the Nightingale Scholarship drove away for the time all less pleasantrecollections.

  They slept, after it all, far more soundly than Loman, whose dreams weredisturbed by that everlasting top joint all the night long.

  The reader will no doubt have already decided in his own mind whetherOliver Greenfield did rightly or wrongly in putting his hands into hispockets instead of using them to knock down Loman. It certainly did notseem to have done him much good at the time. He had lost the esteem ofhis comrades, he had lost the very temper he had been trying to keep--twenty times since the event--and no one gave him credit for anythingbut "the better part of valour" in the whole affair.

  And yet that one effort of self-restraint was not altogether an unmanlyact. At least, so thought Wraysford that night, as he lay meditatingupon his friend's troubles, and found himself liking him none the lessfor this latest singular piece of eccentricity.