by Harold Avery
CHAPTER V.
CATCHING A TARTAR.
It was impossible for two boys to keep such an important discovery tothemselves, and the shed was soon filled with an eager crowd, allanxious to view the mysterious footprints. The Triple Alliancegained fresh renown as the originators of the scheme by which thedisclosure had been made, and it was unanimously decided that the mattershould be reported to Mr. Blake.
The master cross-questioned Acton and Diggory, but seemed ratherinclined to doubt their story.
"I think," he said, "you must be mistaken. I expect the piece ofcotton 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 anyone's while to break into it; besides, if the door was locked, the thiefmust have broken it open, and you'd have seen the marks."
Certainly nothing seemed to have been touched, and as no boy complainedof any of his property having been stolen, the subject was allowed todrop, and the usual excitement connected with the end of term and thenear approach of the holidays soon caused it to be driven from everyone's thoughts and wellnigh forgotten.
With the commencement of the winter term a fresh matter filled the mindsof the Triple Alliance, and gave them plenty of food for discussion andplan-making. On returning to Chatford after the summer holidays, theydiscovered that all three were destined to leave at Christmas andproceed to Ronleigh College, a large school in the neighbourhood, towhich a good number of Mr. Welsby's former pupils had been transferredafter undergoing a preliminary course of education at The Birches.Letters from these departed heroes, containing disjointed descriptionsof their new surroundings, awakened a feeling of interest in the doingsof the Ronleigh College boys. The records of their big scores atcricket, or their victories at football, which appeared in local papers,were always read with admiration; and the name of an old Birchiteappearing in either of the teams was a thing of which every one feltjustly 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 brotherJohn is there; he's one of the big chaps, and is captain of the footballteam this season. I'm going to get the _Denfordshire Chronicle_ everyweek, to see how they get on in the matches."
Early in October the goal-posts were put up in the field, and theBirchites commenced their football practice. Mr. Blake was a leadingmember of the Chatford Town Club, and although six a side wascomparatively a poor business, yet under his instruction they gained agood grounding in the rudiments of the "soccer" of the period. The oldsystem of dribbling and headlong rushes was being abandoned in favour ofthe passing game, and forwards were learning to keep their places, andto play as a whole instead of as individuals.
"Come here, you fellows," said the master, walking into the playgroundone morning, with a piece of paper in his hand; "I've got something tospeak about."
The boys crowded round, wondering what was up.
"I've got here a challenge from Horace House to play a match againstthem, either on our ground or on theirs. I think it's a pity that youshouldn't have an opportunity of playing against strangers. Of coursethey are bigger and heavier than we are, and we should probably getlicked; but that isn't the question: any sportsman would sooner play alosing game than no game at all, and it'll be good practice. We alwaysused to have a match with them every term; but some little time agothere 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 withMr. 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, andI shall only do so on one condition. I know that since the eventhappened to which I referred a moment ago a decidedly unfriendly spirithas existed between you and the boys at Mr. Phillips's. Now anexhibition of this feeling on a football field would be a disgrace tothe school. You must play like gentlemen, and there must be nowrangling or disputing. They are agreeable for a master to play on eachside, so I shall act as captain. Anything that has to be said must beleft to me, and I shall see you get fair play. Do you clearlyunderstand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well, then, I'll write and say we shall be pleased to play themhere on Saturday week."
The prospect of mooting the Philistines in the open field filled themind of every boy with one thought, and the whole establishment wentfootball mad. It was played in the schoolroom and passages with emptyink-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 upwith cries of "Goal!" on their lips.
Mr. Blake arranged the order of the team, and remarking that they wouldneed a good defence, put himself and Shaw as full backs. Acton tookcentre forward, with Jack Vance on his right, while Diggory was told offto keep goal.
At length the eventful morning arrived. Class 2 came utterly to griefin their work; but Mr. Blake understood the cause, and set the samelessons over again for Monday.
It was the first real match most of the players had taken part in, andas they stood on the ground waiting for their opponents to arrive, everyone was trembling with excitement. The only exception was thegoal-keeper, who leaned with his back against the wall, cracking nuts,and remarking that he "wished they'd hurry up and not keep us waitingall day." At length there was a sound of voices in the lane, andthe next moment the enemy entered the field, headed by theirunder-master, Mr. Fox. Young Noaks and Hogson pounced down at once uponthe practice ball, and began kicking it about with great energy,shouting at the top of their voices, and evidently wishing to make animpression on the spectators before the game began.
"I say," muttered Jacobs, "they're awfully big."
"Well, what does that matter?" answered Diggory, cracking another nutand spitting out the shell. "They aren't going to eat us; and as forthat chap Noaks, he's all noise--look how he muffed that kick."
Mr. Blake tossed up. "Now, you fellows," he said, coming up to hisfollowers, "we play towards the road; get to your places, and rememberwhat I told you."
With young Noaks as centre forward, Hogson and Bernard on his right andleft, 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 theirfirst line of defence as though it never existed. But Mr. Blake stoodfirm, and kept his ground like the English squares at Waterloo.Attack after attack swept down upon him only to break up like waves on arock, and the ball came flying back with a shout of "Now, then! Getaway, Birches!" Twice the Horace House wing men got round Shaw, and putin good shots; but Diggory saved them both, and was seen a moment latercalmly rewarding himself with another nut. Gradually, as the timeslipped away and no score was made, the Birchites began to realize thatbeing able to charge wasn't everything, and that their opponents coulddo more with their shoulders than with their feet, and soon lost controlof the ball when bothered by the "halves." The play of the home elevenbecame bolder--the forwards managed a run or two; and though thePhilistines had certainly the upper hand, yet it soon became obvious tothem that it was no mere "walk over," and that victory would have to bestruggled for.
Noaks and the two inside forwards evidently did not relish this state ofthings; they had expected an easy win, and began to show theirdisappointment in the increased roughness of their play.
At length, just before half-time, a thing happened which very nearlycaused 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 hometeam, but Mr. Blake hushed it up in a moment.
"I think," he said pleasantly, "that the play is a trifle rough. Ourmen," he added, laughing, "are rather under size."
&nb
sp; Noaks muttered something about not funking; but Mr. Fox said,--
"Yes, just so. Come, play the game, boys, and think less aboutcharging."
The loss of their right half-back was distinctly felt by the Birchitesduring the commencement of the second half, and Diggory was called uponthree times in quick succession to save his charge. He acquittedhimself like a brick, and the last time did a thing which afforded hisside an immense amount of secret satisfaction. He caught the ball inhis hands, and at the same moment Noaks made a fierce rush, meaningto knock him through the goal. Diggory, with an engaging smile, hoppedon one side, and the Philistine flung himself against the post, andbumped his head with a violence which might have cracked any ordinaryskull. He came back scowling. A moment later Jack Vance ran into him,and took the ball from between his feet. Noaks charged viciously, andin a blind fit of temper deliberately raised his fist and struck theother player in the face.
"_Stop!_"
It was Mr. Blake's voice, and he came striding up the ground looking asblack as thunder.
"I protest against that deliberate piece of foul play. I have playedagainst all the chief clubs in the district, and in any of thosematches, if such a thing had happened, this man would have been orderedoff the ground."
There was a buzz of approval, in which several of the Philistinesjoined.
"You are quite right, Mr. Blake," answered Mr. Fox. "I deeply regretthat 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; youhave disgraced yourself and your Comrades. I shall see that you send awritten 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 orthree that are such beasts."
The game was continued. The loss of one man on each side made the teamsequal in numbers, but the sudden calamity which had overtaken theircentre forward seemed to have exerted a very demoralizing effect on thePhilistines.
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 adraw--a result which the home team would have considered highlysatisfactory.
The umpire looked at his watch, and in answer to a query from Mr. Foxsaid, "Five minutes more."
"Look here, Acton," said Mr. Blake: "let me take your place, and you goback. 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 secondsthe fight was raging in the very mouth of the enemy's goal. Morris putin a capital shot; but the ball glanced off one of the players, and wentbehind.
"Corner!" cried Mr. Blake. "I'll take it. Now you fellows get itthrough somehow or other!"
"Mark your men, Horace House!" cried Mr. Fox. The next moment every onewas shoving and elbowing with their eyes fixed on the ball as it flewthrough 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 abig round shot it whizzed through the posts, and there was a rapturousyell of "_Goal!_"
The delight of the Birchites at having beaten their opponents wasunbounded, and when, a short time later, the latter retired with a scoreagainst them of one to nil. Jack Vance was seized by a band ofapplauding comrades, who, with his head about a couple of feet lowerthan his heels, carried him in triumph across the playground, andstaggered half-way up the steep garden path, when Acton happening totread on a loose pebble brought the whole procession to grief, andcaused the noble band of conquering heroes to be seen all grovelling ina mixed heap upon the gravel.
But it is not for the simple purpose of recording the victory overHorace House that a description of the match has been introduced intoour story; and although the important part played by Diggory ingoal and Jack Vance in the "fighting line" caused it to be an occasionwhen the Triple Alliance was decidedly in evidence and won freshlaurels, yet there are other reasons which make an account of itnecessary, as the reader will discover in following the course ofsubsequent events. If Jack Vance had kicked the ball a yard over thebar instead of under it, the probability is that the following chapterwould never have been written; while the public disgrace of young Noakswas destined to cause our three comrades more trouble than they everexpected to encounter, at all events on this side of their leavingschool.
If the result of the match made such a great impression on the minds ofthe victors, it is only natural that it should have had a similar effecton the hearts of their opponents. Most of the Philistines would havebeen content to take their defeat as a sportsman should, but neitherNoaks nor his two cronies, Hogson and Bernard, had any of this manlyspirit about them; and smarting under the disappointment of not havingwon, and the knowledge that at least one of them had reaped shame andcontempt instead of glory, they determined to seek a speedy revenge.As the three biggest boys in the school, they had little difficulty ininducing their companions to join in the crusade which they preachedagainst The Birches, and the consequence was that the two schools weresoon exchanging open hostilities with greater vigour than ever.
Now, although the Birchites had proved themselves equal to theiropponents at football, they would have stood no chance against them inanything 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, andMr. Blake happened not to be present, the enemy's sharp-shooter creptinto ambush behind the hedge and discharged stones from their catapultsat the legs of the players, while the latter replied by inquiring whenthey meant to "come over and take another licking." At other timesthese Horace House Cossacks swooped down on single members of the rivalestablishment, harrying them in the very streets of Chatford, and on oneoccasion had the audacity to lay violent hands on Jacobs, beat hisbowler hat down over his eyes, and push him through the folding doors ofa drapery establishment, where he upset an umbrella-stand and threechairs, had his ears boxed by the shop-walker, and was threatened withthe police court if ever he did such a thing again! At length it becamepositively perilous for the weaker party to go beyond the precincts oftheir own citadel except in bodies of three or four together. All kindsof plans for retaliation were suggested, but still the Philistinescontinued to score heavily. At length, about the last week in October,a thing happened which raised the wrath of the Birchites toboiling-point.
Cross having received five shillings from home on the morning of hisbirthday, determined to celebrate the occasion by the purchase of apork-pie, of which he had previously invited all his companions topartake. The latter were standing in the playground waiting for hisreturn from Chatford, when they became conscious of certain "alarmswithout;" whoops and war-cries sounded somewhere down Locker's Lane,and ceased as suddenly as they had begun. The boys stood for somemoments wondering what this could mean, and were just thinking ofstarting a fresh game of "catch smugglers," when there came a banging atthe 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 ofindignation which followed its recital? Cross had unwisely decided toshorten his return journey by risking the dangers of Locker'sLane. He had been captured by a party of Philistines, who, under theleadership of Hogson, had not only robbed him of his pie, but had heldhim prisoner while they devoured it before his very eyes!
What this terrible outrage would have excited those who had sufferedthis cruel wrong to do in return--whether they would have started offthere and then, burnt Horace House to the ground, and hung itsinhabitants on the surrounding trees--it would be hard to say; as itwas, at this very moment a counter-attraction was forced upon theirattention by Morris, who came shouldering his way into their midst,saying,--
"Look here, you fellows, some one's stolen my watch and chain!"
It s
eemed as if a perfect shower of thunderbolts had commenced todescend 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 Actonremained in sufficient possession of his faculties to gasp out,--
"_What?_"
"It's true," continued Morris excitedly. "I didn't change for footballyesterday afternoon, but before going into the field I hung my watch upon a nail in the shed, and stupidly forgot all about it until I cameto wind it up last night. Then it was too late to fetch it, and nowit's gone!"
"Look here !" cried Acton, glaring round the group with an unusuallyferocious 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 tellhim, and I won't keep the key of that place. Of course it makes me lookas 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 thehouse.
"Oh, I say," muttered Jack Vance, "now there'll be a row!"
Jack's prophecy was soon fulfilled. The watch and chain could not befound, and there was but little doubt that they had been stolen.Mr. Welsby called the boys together, and though he spoke in a calm andcollected manner, with no trace of passion in his voice, yet his wordsmade them all tremble. Miss Eleanor sat silent at the tea-table, with ashocked expression on her face; and Mr. Blake, when told of theoccurrence, said sharply, "Well, we'd better have locks put oneverything, and the sooner the better."
Acton produced his bunch of keys, and insisted that all his possessionsshould be searched, and every one else followed his example. The wholeof the next afternoon was spent in a careful examination of desks andboxes, but with no result beyond the discovery that Mugford owned a cordwaistcoat which he had 'never had the moral courage to wear.
There is one feature in the administration of justice by an Englishcourt which is unhappily too often overlooked in the lynch law ofschoolboys, and that is the principle that a man shall be consideredinnocent until he has been clearly proved guilty. Smarting under asense of shame which was entirely unmerited, every boy sought eagerlyfor 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 trapseemed to show that the various thefts had been committed at night.It was agreed that the two occupants of the "Main-top" had specialopportunity for getting out of the house if so minded; every other roomhad one or more fellows in it who had suffered the loss of someproperty; and lastly, Kennedy was known to possess a pair of hob-nailedfishing-boots, which he usually kept under his bed. The two boysindignantly denied the accusation when it was first brought againstthem, but the very vehemence with which they protested their innocencewas regarded as "put on," and accepted as an additional proof of theirguilt. The evidence, however, was not thought sufficient to warrantbringing a charge against them before the head-master, and accordinglyit was decided to send them both to Coventry until some fresh lightshould be brought to bear upon the case.
To do full justice to the memory of Diggory Trevanock, he alone stoodout against this decision, and incurred the wrath both of Acton and JackVance in so doing. He continued to affirm that it must be the man hehad seen in the playground on the occasion of the first meeting of thesupper club; and that the footprint in the dust had been a man's, andmuch larger than Kennedy's boot could have produced.
This outlawing of the "Main-top" and difference of opinion with Diggoryspoiled all chance of games and good fellowship. Even the associationof the Triple Alliance seemed likely to end in an open rupture, andvery possibly might have done so if it had not been for an event whichcaused the members to reunite against the common enemy.
One half-holiday afternoon Mugford and Diggory had gone down toChatford. It was nearly dark when they started to come back, and thelatter 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 discoveredstanding in the shadow of the brick wall.
"It's young Noaks," whispered Diggory. "It's too late to turn back, butmost likely he won't notice us in this light if we walk straight on."
They passed him successfully, and were just opposite the entrance, whenthree more boys sauntered through the doorway. A gleam of light fromthe house happened to fall on Diggory's cap and broad white collar, andimmediately the shout was raised, "_Birchites!_"
There was a rush of feet, a wild moment of grabbing and dodging, andMugford, who had managed somehow to shake himself free from the grasp ofhis assailants, dashed off at full speed down the road. After runningfor about two hundred yards, and finding he was not followed, he pulledup, waited and listened, and then began cautiously to retrace his steps.There was no sign either of his companion or the enemy; and though heventured back as far as the double doors, which were now closed, not asoul was to be seen. He knew in a moment that his class-mate had beencaptured, but all hope of attempting anything in the shape of a rescuewas out of the question. It was impossible for him single-handed tostorm the fortress, and so, after lingering about for some minutes inthe hope that his friend would reappear, he ran home as fast as hecould, and bursting into the schoolroom, where most of his schoolfellowssat reading round the fire, threw them into a great state ofconsternation and dismay by proclaiming in a loud voice the alarmingintelligence that Diggory had been taken prisoner, and was at thatmoment in the hands of the Philistines!
