CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
COMPANY AT THE COCKCHAFER.
Cripps's letter was as follows:
"Hon. Sir,--This comes hoping you are well. You may like to know SirPatrick won. The tip was all out. Honourable Sir,--My friend wouldlike his ten pounds sharp, as he's a poor man. Please call in onSaturday afternoon. Your very humble servant, Ben Cripps."
This letter was startling enough to drive fifty _Dominicans_ out ofLoman's head, and for a long time he could hardly realise how bad thenews it contained was.
He had reckoned to a dead certainty on winning the bet which Cripps hadadvised him to make with his friend. Not that Loman knew anything aboutracing matters, but Cripps had been so confident, and it seemed so safeto bet against this one particular horse, that the idea of eventsturning out otherwise had never once entered his head.
He went to the door and shouted for Stephen, who presently appeared witha paper dart in his hand.
"Greenfield," said Loman, "cut down at once to Maltby and bring me anewspaper."
Stephen stared.
"I've got my lessons to do," he said.
"Leave them here, I'll do them," replied Loman; "look sharp."
Still Stephen hesitated.
"We aren't allowed out after seven without leave," he faltered, longingto get back to the war preparations in the Fourth Junior.
"I know that, and I give you leave--there!" said Loman, with all themonitorial dignity he could assume. This quite disarmed Stephen. Ofcourse a monitor could do no wrong, and it was no use objecting on thatscore.
Still he was fain to find some other excuse.
"I say, will it do in the morning?" he began.
Loman's only reply was a book shied at his fag's head--quite explicitenough for all practical purposes. So Stephen hauled down his coloursand prepared to start.
"Look sharp back," said Loman, "and don't let any one see you going out.Look here, you can get yourself some brandy-balls with this."
Stephen was not philosopher enough to argue with himself why, if he hadleave to go out, he ought to avoid being seen going out. He pocketedLoman's extra penny complacently, and giving one last longing look inthe direction of the Fourth Junior, slipped quietly out of the schooland made the best of his way down to Maltby.
It was not easy at that time of day to get a paper. Stephen tried halfa dozen stationers' shops, but they were all sold out. They wereevidently more sought after than brandy-balls, of which he had nodifficulty in securing a pennyworth at an early stage of his pilgrimage.The man in the sweet-shop told him his only chance of getting a paperwas at the railway station.
So to the station he strolled, with a brandy-ball in each cheek. Alas!the stall was closed for the day.
Stephen did not like to be beaten, but there was nothing for it now butto give up this "paper-chase," and return to Loman with a report of hisill-success.
As he trotted back up High Street, looking about everywhere but in thedirection in which he was going (as is the habit of small boys), andwondering in his heart whether his funds could possibly stand the strainof another pennyworth of brandy-balls, he suddenly found himself insharp collision with a man who expressed himself on the subject ofclumsy boys generally in no very measured terms.
Stephen looked up and saw Mr Cripps the younger standing before him.
"Why!" exclaimed that worthy, giving over his irascible expletives, andadopting an air of unfeigned pleasure, "why, if it ain't young MasterGreenhorn. Ha, ha! How do, my young bantam? Pretty bobbish, eh?"
Stephen did not know exactly what was meant by "bobbish," but repliedthat he was quite well, and sorry he had trodden on Mr Cripps's toes.
"Never mind," said Mr Cripps, magnanimously, "you're a light weight.And so you're taking a dander down town, are you? looking for lollipops,eh?"
Stephen blushed very red at this. However had Mr Cripps guessed aboutthe brandy-balls?
"I came to get a paper for Loman," he said, "but they're all sold out."
"No, are they? I wonder what Mr Loman wants with a paper, now?"
"He said it was very important, and I was to be sure to get one ofto-day's," said Stephen. "Do you know where I can get one?"
"Of course. Come along with me; I've got one at home you can have. Andso he said it was very important, did he? That's queer. There'snothing in to-day's paper at all. Only something about a lowhorse-race. He don't want it for that, I guess; eh?"
"Oh, no, I shouldn't think," said Stephen, trotting along beside hisamiable acquaintance.
Mr Cripps was certainly a very friendly man, and as he conductedStephen to the Cockchafer, Stephen felt quite a liking for him, andcouldn't understand why Oliver and Wraysford both ran him down.
True, Mr Cripps did use some words which didn't seem exactly proper,but that Stephen put down to the habit of men in that part. The manseemed to take such an interest in boys generally, and in Stephen inparticular, and was so interested and amused to hear all about theGuinea-pigs, and the _Dominican_, and the Sixth _versus_ School, thatStephen felt quite drawn out to him. And then he told Stephen such alot of funny stories, and treated him with such evident consideration,that the small boy felt quite flattered and delighted.
So they reached the Cockchafer. Here Stephen, whose former visits hadall been to the lock-house, pulled up.
"I say," said he, "is this a public-house?"
"Getting on that way," said Mr Cripps.
"We aren't allowed to go in public-houses," said Stephen, "it's one ofthe rules."
"Ah, quite right too; not a good thing for boys at all. We'll go in bythe private door into my house," said Mr Cripps.
Stephen was not quite comfortable at this evasion, but followed MrCripps by the side door into his bar parlour.
"You won't forget the paper," he said, "please. I've got to be back inschool directly."
"I'll have a look for it. Now, I guess you like ginger-beer, don'tyou?"
Stephen was particularly partial to ginger-beer, as it happened, andsaid so.
"That's the style," said Mr Cripps, producing a bottle. "Walk intothat while I go and get the paper."
Stephen did walk into it with great relish, and began to think MrCripps quite a gentleman. He was certain, even if that bat had been apoor one, it was quite worth the money paid for it, and Oliver wasunjust in calling Cripps hard names.
The landlord very soon returned with the paper.
"Here you are, young governor. Now don't hurry away. It's lonely hereall by myself, and I like a young gentleman like you to talk to. I knewa nice little boy once, just your age, that used to come and see meregular once a week and play bagatelle with me. He was a good player atit too!"
"Could he get clear-board twice running with two balls?" asked Stephen,half jealous of the fame of this unknown rival.
"Eh!--no, scarcely that. He wasn't quite such a dab as that."
"I can do it," said Stephen with a superior smile.
"You? Not a bit of you!" said Mr Cripps, incredulously.
"Yes, I can," reiterated Stephen, delighted to have astonished his host.
"I must see it before I can believe that," said Mr Cripps. "Supposeyou show me on my board."
Stephen promptly accepted the challenge, and forgetting in hisexcitement all about school rules or Loman's orders accompanied Crippsto the bagatelle-room, with its sanded floor, smelling of stale tobaccoand beer-dregs. His first attempt, greatly to Mr Cripps's glee, wasunsuccessful.
"I knew you couldn't," exclaimed that worthy.
"I know I can do it," said Stephen, excitedly. "Let's try again."
After a few more trials he made the two clear-boards, and Mr Cripps wasduly astonished and impressed.
"That's what I call smart play," said he. "Now, if I was a betting man,I'd wager a sixpence you couldn't do it again."
"Yes, I can, but I won't bet," said Stephen. He did do it again, andMr Cripps said it was a good job for him the young swell didn't bet, orhe woul
d have lost his sixpence. Stephen was triumphant.
How long he would have gone on showing off his prowess to the admiringlandlord of the Cockchafer, and how far he might have advanced in theart of public-house bagatelle, I cannot say, but the sudden striking ofa clock and the entry of visitors into the room reminded him where hewas.
"I must go back now," he said, hurriedly.
"Must you? Well, come again soon. I've a great fancy to learn thatthere stoke. I'm a born fool at bagatelle. What do you say to anotherginger-beer before you go?"
Stephen said "Thank you," and then taking the newspaper in his hand badeCripps good-bye.
"Good-bye, my fine young fellow. You're one of the right sort, you are.No stuck-up nonsense about you. That's why I fancy you. Bye-bye. Mylove to Mr Loman."
Stephen hurried back to Saint Dominic's as fast as his legs would carryhim. He was not quite comfortable about his evening's proceedings,although he was not aware of having done anything wicked. Loman, amonitor, had given him leave to go down to Maltby, so that was hardly acrime; and as to the Cockchafer--well, he had only been in the privatepart of the house, and not the public bar, and surely there had been noharm in drinking ginger-beer and playing bagatelle, especially when hehad distinctly refused to bet on the latter. But, explain it as hewould, Stephen felt uncomfortable enough to determine him to say aslittle as possible about his expedition.
He found Loman impatiently awaiting him.
"Wherever have you been to all this time?" he demanded.
"The papers were all sold out," said Stephen. "I tried seven places."
Loman had eagerly caught up and opened the paper while Stephen nervouslymade this explanation, and he took no further heed of his fag, whopresently, seeing he was no longer wanted, and relieved to get out ofreach of questions, prudently retired.
A glance sufficed to confirm the bad news about the Derby. Sir Patrickhad won, and it was a fact therefore that Loman owed Cripps and hisfriend between them thirty pounds, without the least possibility ofpaying them.
One thing was certain. He must see Cripps on Saturday, and trust to hisluck (though that of late had not been very trustworthy) to pull himthrough, somehow.
Alas! what a spirit this, in which to meet difficulties! Loman had yetto learn that it is one thing to regret, and another thing to repent;that it is one thing to call one's self a fool, and another thing,quite, to cease to be one.
But, as he said to himself, he must go through with it now, and thefirst step took him deeper than ever into the mire.
For the coming Saturday was the day of the great cricket match, Sixthversus School, from which a Dominican would as soon think of desertingas of emigrating.
But Loman must desert if he was to keep his appointment, and he managedthe proceeding with his now characteristic untruthfulness; a practice hewould have scorned only a few months ago. How easy the first wrongstep! What a long weary road when one, with aching heart, attempts toretrace the way! And at present Loman had made no serious effort inthat direction.
On the Friday morning, greatly to the astonishment of all hisclass-fellows, he appeared in his place with his arm in a sling.
"Hullo, Loman!" said Wren, the first whom he encountered, "what's therow with you?"
"Sprained my wrist," said Loman, to whom, alas!--so easy is the downwardpath when once entered on--a lie had become an easy thing to utter.
"How did you manage that?" exclaimed Callonby. "Mind you get it rightby to-morrow, or we _shall_ be in a fix."
This little piece of flattery pleased Loman, who said, "I'm afraid Ishan't be able to play."
"What! Who's that won't be able to play?" said Raleigh, coming up inunwonted excitement.
"Loman; he's sprained his wrist."
"Have you shown it to Dr Splints?" said Raleigh.
"No," said Loman, beginning to feel uncomfortable. "It's hardly badenough for that."
"Then it's hardly bad enough to prevent your playing," said Raleigh,drily.
Loman did not like this. He and Raleigh never got on well together, andit was evident the captain was more angry than sympathetic now.
"Whatever shall we do for bowlers?" said some one.
"I'm awfully sorry," said Loman, wishing he was anywhere but where hewas; "but how am I to help?"
"Whatever induced you to sprain your wrist?" said Wren. "You might justas well have put it off till Monday."
"Just fancy how foolish we shall look if those young beggars beat us, asthey are almost sure to do," said Winter.
Loman was quickly losing his temper, for all this was, or seemed to be,addressed pointedly to him.
"What's the use of talking like that?" he retorted. "You ass, you! asif I could help."
"Shouldn't wonder if you could help," replied Winter.
"Perhaps," suggested some one, "it was the _Dominican_ put him out ofjoint. It certainly did give him a rap over the knuckles."
"What do you mean?" exclaimed Loman, angrily, and half drawing hissupposed sprained hand out of the sling.
"Shut up, you fellows," interposed Raleigh, authoritatively. "Bayneswill play in the eleven to-morrow instead of Loman, so there's an end ofthe matter."
Loman was sorely mortified. He had expected his defection would createquite a sensation, and that his class-fellows would be inconsolable athis accident. Instead of that, he had only contrived to quarrel withnearly all of them, alienating their sympathy; and in the end he was tobe quietly superseded by Baynes, and the match was to go on as if he hadnever been heard of at Saint Dominic's.
"Never mind; I'm bound to go and see Cripps. Besides," said he tohimself, "they'll miss me to-morrow, whatever they say to-day."
Next day, just when the great match was beginning, and the entire schoolwas hanging breathless on the issue of every ball, Loman quietly slippedout of Saint Dominic's, and walked rapidly and nervously down to theCockchafer in Maltby.
"What _shall_ I say to Cripps?" was the wild question he kept askinghimself as he went along; and the answer had not come by the time hefound himself standing within that worthy's respectable premises.
Mr Cripps was in his usual good humour.
"Why, it's Mr Loman! so it is!" he exclaimed, in a rapture. "Now who_would_ have thought of seeing _you_ here?"
Loman was perplexed.
"Why, you told me to come this afternoon," said he.
"Did I? Ah, I dare say! Never mind. Very kind of a young gentlemanlike you to come and see the likes of me. What'll you take?"
Loman did not know what to make of this at all.
"I came to see you about that--that horse you told me to bet against,"he said.
"I remember. What's his name? Sir Patrick, wasn't it? My friend toldme that he'd had the best of that. What was it? Ten bob?"
This affected ignorance of the whole matter in hand was utterlybewildering to Loman, who had fully expected that, instead of having toexplain himself, he would have the matter pretty plainly explained tohim by his sportive acquaintance.
"No, ten pounds. That was what I was to pay if the horse won; and,Cripps, I can't pay it, or the twenty pounds either, to you."
Cripps whistled.
"That's a go and no mistake!" he said. "Afraid it won't do, mister."
"You told me Sir Patrick was sure not to win," said Loman.
"Ah, there was several of us took in over that there horse," coolly saidMr Cripps. "I lost a shilling myself over him. Nice to be you, flushof cash, and able to pay straight down."
"I can't pay," said Loman.
"Ah, but the governor can, I'll wager," insinuated Cripps.
"He would never do it! It's no use asking him," said Loman.
Cripps whistled again.
"That's awkward. And my friend wants his money, too, and so do I."
"I really can't pay," said Loman. "I say, Cripps, let us off thattwenty pounds. I really didn't mean about that rod."
Mr Cripps fired up in righteous indignation.
"Ah, I dare say, mister. You'll come and snivel now, will you? But youwere ready enough to cheat a honest man when you saw a chance. No, I'llhave my twenty or else there'll be a rumpus. Make no mistake of that!"
The bare idea of a "rumpus" cowed Loman at once. Anything but that.
"Come, now," said Cripps, encouragingly, "I'll wager you can raise thewind somewheres."
"I wish I knew how. I see no chance whatever, unless--" and here abrilliant idea suddenly struck him--"unless I get the Nightingale. Ofcourse; I say, Cripps, will you wait till September?"
"What! Three months! And how do you suppose I'm to find bread to eattill then?" exclaimed Mr Cripps.
"Oh, do!" said Loman. "I'm certain to be able to pay then. I forgotall about the Nightingale."
"The Nightingale? It must be an uncommon spicy bird to fetch in thirtypound!"
"It's not a bird," said Loman, laughing; "it's a scholarship."
"A what?"
"A scholarship. I'm in for an exam, you know, and whoever's first getsfifty-pounds a year for three years."
"But suppose you ain't first? what then?"
"Oh, but I'm _sure_ to be. I've only got Fifth Form fellows against me,and I'm certain to beat them!"
"Well," said Mr Cripps, "I don't so much care about your nightingalesand cock-sparrows and scholarships, and all them traps, but I'd like tooblige you."
"Oh, thank you!" cried Loman, delighted, and feeling already as if thedebt was paid. "And you'll get your friend to wait too, won't you?"
"Can't do that. I shall have to square up with him and look to you forthe lot, and most likely drop into the workhouse for my pains."
"Oh, no. You can be quite certain of getting the money."
"Well, blessed if I ain't a easy-going cove," said Mr Cripps, with agrin. "It ain't every one as 'ud wait three months on your poll-parrotscholarships, or whatever you call 'em. Come, business is business.Give us your promise on a piece of paper--if you must impose upon me."Loman, only too delighted, wrote at Mr Cripps's dictation a promise topay the thirty pounds, together with five pounds interest, in September,and quitted the Cockchafer with as light a heart as if he had actuallypaid off every penny of the debt.
"Of course I'm safe to get it! Why ever didn't I think of that before?Won't I just work the rest of the term! Nothing like having an objectwhen you're grinding."
With this philosophical reflection he re-entered Saint Dominic's, andunobserved rejoined the spectators in the cricket-field, just in time towitness a very exciting finish to a fiercely contested encounter.
The Fifth Form at Saint Dominic's: A School Story Page 14
