[6]
--AND STAYS THERE
'I say,' said Baker of Jephson's excitedly some days later, reelinginto the study which he shared with Norris, '_have_ you seen theteam the M.C.C.'s bringing down?'
At nearly every school there is a type of youth who asks this questionon the morning of the M.C.C. match. Norris was engaged in putting thefinishing touches to a snow-white pair of cricket boots.
'No. Hullo, where did you raise that Sporter? Let's have a look.'
But Baker proposed to conduct this business in person. It is ten timesmore pleasant to administer a series of shocks to a friend than to sitby and watch him administering them to himself. He retained _TheSportsman_, and began to read out the team.
'Thought Middlesex had a match,' said Norris, as Baker pauseddramatically to let the name of a world-famed professional sink in.
'No. They don't play Surrey till Monday.'
'Well, if they've got an important match like Surrey on on Monday,'said Norris disgustedly, 'what on earth do they let their best man comedown here today for, and fag himself out?'
Baker suggested gently that if anybody was going to be fagged out atthe end of the day, it would in all probability be the Beckfordbowlers, and not a man who, as he was careful to point out, had run upa century a mere three days ago against Yorkshire, and who wasapparently at that moment at the very top of his form.
'Well,' said Norris, 'he might crock himself or anything. Rank badpolicy, I call it. Anybody else?'
Baker resumed his reading. A string of unknowns ended in anothercelebrity.
'Blackwell?' said Norris. 'Not O. T. Blackwell?'
'It says A. T. But,' went on Baker, brightening up again, 'they alwaysget the initials wrong in the papers. Certain to be O. T. By the way, Isuppose you saw that he made eighty-three against Notts the other day?'
Norris tried to comfort himself by observing that Notts couldn't bowlfor toffee.
'Last week, too,' said Baker, 'he made a hundred and forty-six not outagainst Malvern for the Gentlemen of Warwickshire. They couldn't gethim out,' he concluded with unction. In spite of the fact that hehimself was playing in the match today, and might under thecircumstances reasonably look forward to a considerable dose ofleather-hunting, the task of announcing the bad news to Norris appearedto have a most elevating effect on his spirits:
'That's nothing extra special,' said Norris, in answer to the last itemof information, 'the Malvern wicket's like a billiard-table.'
'Our wickets aren't bad either at this time of year,' said Baker, 'andI heard rumours that they had got a record one ready for this match.'
'It seems to me,' said Norris, 'that what I'd better do if we want tobat at all today is to win the toss. Though Sammy and the Bishop andBaynes ought to be able to get any ordinary side out all right.'
'Only this isn't an ordinary side. It's a sort of improved countyteam.'
'They've got about four men who might come off, but the M.C.C.sometimes have a bit of a tail. We ought to have a look in if we winthe toss.'
'Hope so,' said Baker. 'I doubt it, though.'
At a quarter to eleven the School always went out in a body to inspectthe pitch. After the wicket had been described by experts in hushedwhispers as looking pretty good, the bell rang, and all who were notplaying for the team, with the exception of the lucky individual whohad obtained for himself the post of scorer, strolled back towards theblocks. Monk had come out with Waterford, but seeing Farnie ahead andwalking alone he quitted Waterford, and attached himself to the genialReginald. He wanted to talk business. He had not found the speculationof the two pounds a very profitable one. He had advanced the moneyunder the impression that Farnie, by accepting it, was practicallyselling his independence. And there were certain matters in which Monkwas largely interested, connected with the breaking of bounds and thepurchase of contraband goods, which he would have been exceedingly gladto have performed by deputy. He had fancied that Farnie would havetaken over these jobs as part of his debt. But he had mistaken his man.On the very first occasion when he had attempted to put on the screw,Farnie had flatly refused to have anything to do with what he proposed.He said that he was not Monk's fag--a remark which had the merit ofbeing absolutely true.
All this, combined with a slight sinking of his own funds, induced Monkto take steps towards recovering the loan.
'I say, Farnie, old chap.'
'Hullo!'
'I say, do you remember my lending you two quid some time ago?'
'You don't give me much chance of forgetting it,' said Farnie.
Monk smiled. He could afford to be generous towards such witticisms.
'I want it back,' he said.
'All right. You'll get it at the end of term.'
'I want it now.'
'Why?'
'Awfully hard up, old chap.'
'You aren't,' said Farnie. 'You've got three pounds twelve and sixpencehalf-penny. If you will keep counting your money in public, you can'tblame a chap for knowing how much you've got.'
Monk, slightly disconcerted, changed his plan of action. He abandonedskirmishing tactics.
'Never mind that,' he said, 'the point is that I want that four pounds.I'm going to have it, too.'
'I know. At the end of term.'
'I'm going to have it now.'
'You can have a pound of it now.'
'Not enough.'
'I don't see how you expect me to raise any more. If I could, do youthink I should have borrowed it? You might chuck rotting for a change.'
'Now, look here, old chap,' said Monk, 'I should think you'd ratherraise that tin somehow than have it get about that you'd been playingpills at some pub out of bounds. What?'
Farnie, for one of the few occasions on record, was shaken out of hisusual _sang-froid_. Even in his easy code of morality there hadalways been one crime which was an anathema, the sort of thing nofellow could think of doing. But it was obviously at this that Monk washinting.
'Good Lord, man,' he cried, 'you don't mean to say you're thinking ofsneaking? Why, the fellows would boot you round the field. You couldn'tstay in the place a week.'
'There are heaps of ways,' said Monk, 'in which a thing can get aboutwithout anyone actually telling the beaks. At present I've not told asoul. But, you know, if I let it out to anyone they might tell someoneelse, and so on. And if everybody knows a thing, the beaks generallyget hold of it sooner or later. You'd much better let me have that fourquid, old chap.'
Farnie capitulated.
'All right,' he said, 'I'll get it somehow.'
'Thanks awfully, old chap,' said Monk, 'so long!'
In all Beckford there was only one person who was in the least degreelikely to combine the two qualities necessary for the extraction ofFarnie from his difficulties. These qualities were--in the first placeability, in the second place willingness to advance him, free ofsecurity, the four pounds he required. The person whom he had in hismind was Gethryn. He had reasoned the matter out step by step duringthe second half of morning school. Gethryn, though he had, as Farnieknew, no overwhelming amount of affection for his uncle, might in acase of great need prove blood to be thicker (as per advertisement)than water. But, he reflected, he must represent himself as in dangerof expulsion rather than flogging. He had an uneasy idea that if theBishop were to discover that all he stood to get was a flogging, hewould remark with enthusiasm that, as far as he was concerned, the goodwork might go on. Expulsion was different. To save a member of hisfamily from expulsion, he might think it worth while to pass round thehat amongst his wealthy acquaintances. If four plutocrats with foursovereigns were to combine, Farnie, by their united efforts, would besaved. And he rather liked the notion of being turned into a sort oflimited liability company, like the Duke of Plaza Toro, at a pound ashare. It seemed to add a certain dignity to his position.
To Gethryn's study, therefore, he went directly school was over. If hehad reflected, he might have known that he would not have been therewhile the match was going
on. But his brain, fatigued with his recentcalculations, had not noted this point.
The study was empty.
Most people, on finding themselves in a strange and empty room, areseized with a desire to explore the same, and observe from internalevidence what manner of man is the owner. Nowhere does character comeout so clearly as in the decoration of one's private den. Many a man,at present respected by his associates, would stand forth unmasked athis true worth, could the world but look into his room. For there theywould see that he was so lost to every sense of shame as to cover hisbooks with brown paper, or deck his walls with oleographs presentedwith the Christmas numbers, both of which habits argue a frame of mindfit for murderers, stratagems, and spoils. Let no such man be trusted.
The Bishop's study, which Farnie now proceeded to inspect, was not ofthis kind. It was a neat study, arranged with not a little taste. Therewere photographs of teams with the College arms on their plain oakframes, and photographs of relations in frames which tried to look, andfor the most part succeeded in looking, as if they had not costfourpence three farthings at a Christmas bargain sale. There weresnap-shots of various moving incidents in the careers of the Bishop andhis friends: Marriott, for example, as he appeared when carried to thePavilion after that sensational century against the Authentics:Robertson of Blaker's winning the quarter mile: John Brown, Norris'spredecessor in the captaincy, and one of the four best batsmen Beckfordhad ever had, batting at the nets: Norris taking a skier on theboundary in last year's M.C.C. match: the Bishop himself going out tobat in the Charchester match, and many more of the same sort.
All these Farnie observed with considerable interest, but as he movedtowards the book-shelf his eye was caught by an object more interestingstill. It was a cash-box, simple and unornamental, but undoubtedly acash-box, and as he took it up it rattled.
The key was in the lock. In a boarding House at a public school it isnot, as a general rule, absolutely necessary to keep one's valuablesalways hermetically sealed. The difference between _meum_ and_tuum_ is so very rarely confused by the occupants of such anestablishment, that one is apt to grow careless, and every now and thenaccidents happen. An accident was about to happen now.
It was at first without any motive except curiosity that Farnie openedthe cash-box. He merely wished to see how much there was inside, with aview to ascertaining what his prospects of negotiating a loan with hisrelative were likely to be. When, however, he did see, other feelingsbegan to take the place of curiosity. He counted the money. There wereten sovereigns, one half-sovereign, and a good deal of silver. One ofthe institutions at Beckford was a mission. The School by (more orless) voluntary contributions supported a species of home somewhere inthe wilds of Kennington. No one knew exactly what or where this homewas, but all paid their subscriptions as soon as possible in the term,and tried to forget about it. Gethryn collected not only forLeicester's House, but also for the Sixth Form, and was consequently,if only by proxy, a man of large means. _Too_ large, Farniethought. Surely four pounds, to be paid back (probably) almost at once,would not be missed. Why shouldn't he--
'Hullo!'
Farnie spun round. Wilson was standing in the doorway.
'Hullo, Farnie,' said he, 'what are you playing at in here?'
'What are you?' retorted Farnie politely.
'Come to fetch a book. Marriott said I might. What are you up to?'
'Oh, shut up!' said Farnie. 'Why shouldn't I come here if I like?Matter of fact, I came to see Gethryn.'
'He isn't here,' said Wilson luminously.
'You don't mean to say you've noticed that already? You've got an eyelike a hawk, Wilson. I was just taking a look round, if you really wantto know.'
'Well, I shouldn't advise you to let Marriott catch you mucking hisstudy up. Seen a book called _Round the Red Lamp_? Oh, here it is.Coming over to the field?'
'Not just yet. I want to have another look round. Don't you wait,though.'
'Oh, all right.' And Wilson retired with his book.
Now, though Wilson at present suspected nothing, not knowing of theexistence of the cash-box, Farnie felt that when the money came to bemissed, and inquiries were made as to who had been in the study, andwhen, he would recall the interview. Two courses, therefore, remainedopen to him. He could leave the money altogether, or he could take itand leave himself. In other words, run away.
In the first case there would, of course, remain the chance that hemight induce Gethryn to lend him the four pounds, but this had neverbeen more than a forlorn hope; and in the light of the possibilitiesopened out by the cash-box, he thought no more of it. The real problemwas, should he or should he not take the money from the cash-box?
As he hesitated, the recollection of Monk's veiled threats came back tohim, and he wavered no longer. He opened the box again, took out thecontents, and dropped them into his pocket. While he was about it, hethought he might as well take all as only a part.
Then he wrote two notes. One--to the Bishop--he placed on top of thecash-box; the other he placed with four sovereigns on the table inMonk's study. Finally he left the room, shut the door carefully behindhim, and went to the yard at the back of the House, where he kept hisbicycle.
The workings of the human mind, and especially of the young human mind,are peculiar. It never occurred to Farnie that a result equallyprofitable to himself, and decidedly more convenient for allconcerned--with the possible exception of Monk--might have been arrivedat if he had simply left the money in the box, and run away without it.
However, as the poet says, you can't think of everything.