The Adventures of a Three-Guinea Watch

by Talbot Baines Reed

  CHAPTER SEVEN.

  HOW A PLEASANT TREAT IN STORE WAS PREPARED FOR MY MASTER.

  Gus proceeded then to divulge his plan for giving Tom Drift his revengeon my master.

  "Let's take him to Gurley races on Saturday," said he. "You know it's aholiday, and if we can only get him with us, well astonish hissanctimonious young soul. What do you say?"

  "You'll never get him to come," said Margetson.

  "Won't we? Well see about that," replied Gus, "he needn't know wherehe's going."

  "But even so," said Drift, "you won't get him; he's not in love with me,and I don't fancy any of you are much in his line."

  "Oh, you'll have to manage that part, Tom. You know how the youngidiot's pining to make it up with you, for your dear old mother's sake!"

  "Now you needn't start that nonsense again," put in Tom sulkily.

  "All right; but don't you see, if you were to take a forgiving fit andmake up to him, and talk about the old lady and his watch, and all that,he'd be out of his wits with joy? and then if you asked him to come fora day's fishing on Saturday, we could meet you somewhere on the road,and then he'd have to come whether he liked or not; and won't weastonish him!"

  Tom mused a little.

  "It's not a bad idea," said he presently, "if it would only work. But Ican't make up to the young puppy as you think. Ten to one I should stopshort in the middle and kick him."

  "That would spoil all the fun. Try it on, any way, it'll be a nicelittle excitement to have young Innocent with us. And now, Tom, whereare blacks and reds; I'm just in the humour for a rubber, aren't you?"

  The host produced from a locked desk a dirty and much-worn pack ofcards, and the party sat down to play.

  They played for penny points, and as Gus and Margetson were partners, itis hardly necessary to say that Drift and his ill-looking friend lostevery game.

  Before this amiable and congenial quartet separated, Gus had referredagain to the scheme of getting Charlie to Gurley races, and got Drift topromise he would secure his victim next day.

  Next day, accordingly, as Charlie was in the midst of a desperate gameof fives with his friend Jim, a small boy came to him and said that TomDrift wanted him.

  "What for?" demanded Charlie, who, since his talk with the elderHalliday, had felt somewhat "shy" about Tom.

  "I don't know," said the boy.

  "Your turn, Charlie," called out Jim from the end of the court.

  Charlie took his turn while he was revolving on his answer to thismysterious summons.

  "What does that child want?" inquired Jim, with all the loftiness of asecond-form boy speaking of a first.

  "He says Tom Drift wants me."

  "Whew!" whistled Jim, who of course knew the whole mystery of the affairbetween his chum and Tom; "tell him to go to Jericho! Look out foryourself!"

  And so saying, he took his turn with the ball.

  "That wouldn't do," said Charlie; "I don't want to rile him."

  "_I'd_ like to have a chance," retorted the implacable Jim. "Well,then, tell him you can't come. Here, young un, tell Tom Drift Charliecan't come. Do you hear? Cut your sticks!"

  But Charlie called the messenger back. "I _could_, go if I wanted, Jim.Better tell him I'd rather not come. Say that, youngster--I'd rathernot."

  So off the youngster ran, and Charlie and Jim finished their game. Ofcoarse, the youthful messenger gave Tom a full, true, and particularaccount of this conversation in all its details, which rendered thatyoung gentleman rather less eager than ever for his enterprise.However, he had the fear of Gus before his eyes, and strolled out intothe playground on the chance of coming across Charlie.

  And he did come across him, arm-in-arm with the faithful Jim. Tomworked his face into the ghastly similitude of a friendly smile as heapproached, and said, in as genial a voice as he could pretend, "I'mglad I met you, Newcome, because I want to speak to you, if you don'tmind taking a turn round the playground."

  Charlie, of course, was astonished; he had expected at the very least tobe kicked over the wall when he saw Tom approach, and he was utterly ata loss to understand this not unfriendly greeting. Innocent boy! itnever occurred to him the demonstration could be anything but real. Jimwould have been a tougher subject to deal with. Indeed, as he let goCharlie's arm, and saw him walk off with Tom, he muttered to himself,not caring particularly whether the latter heard him or not.

  "Gammon! that's what it is."

  Charlie had not long to wait before his companion began theconversation.

  "I suppose you wonder why I want you, Newcome?" said he. "The fact is,I've been thinking I wasn't altogether right in being down on you theother day about lending me that watch, especially as you were a new boy;and I'm sorry if I hurt you."

  Charlie sprung towards him and caught his arm.

  "Oh, Tom Drift, don't say that, please! It was my fault--all my fault,and I have been so sorry ever since. And you will be friends now, won'tyou? I do so want to be, because I promised your mother--"

  Tom gave a quick gesture of impatience, which, if Charlie hadunderstood, he would have known how near receiving a kick he was at thatmoment.

  Tom, however, restrained himself, and said,--

  "Oh, yes, for her sake I'd like to be friends, of course, and I hopeyou'll forget all about that wretched quarrel."

  "Indeed I will," cried Charlie; "and don't let us say any more about it.I am ever so much happier now, and it was so good of you to come to meand make it up."

  "Well," said Tom loftily, "you know it's no use for two fellows to be atloggerheads when it can be helped, and I dare say we shall get on allthe better now. How are you going on in the second?"

  Whereupon Charlie launched into a lengthy and animated account of hisexperiences, to which Tom pretended to listen, but scarcely heard aword.

  "So you are fond of fishing?" he said, casually, after the boy hadmentioned something on that subject.

  "Ain't I, though?" cried Charlie, now quite happy, and his old selfagain. "I say, Tom Drift, would you like to see the new lance-wood topI've got to my rod? It's a stunner, I can tell you. I'll lend it you,you know, any time you like."

  "Have you caught much since you were here!" asked Tom, anxious to getthis hateful business over.

  "No. You know the brook here isn't a good one for fish, and I don'tknow anywhere else near."

  "Well, I'll tell you what," said Tom, as if the idea had then for thefirst time occurred to him. "Suppose we go off for a regular good dayon Saturday? It's a holiday, you know, and we could go and try up theSharle, near Gurley. There's lots of trout there, and we are certain tohave a good day."

  "How jolly!" exclaimed Charlie. "It would be grand. But I say, TomDrift, are you sure you wouldn't mind coming? It wouldn't be a botherto you, would it?"

  "Not a bit. I like a good day's fishing. But, I say, young un, you'dbetter not say anything about it to any one, or we shall have a swarm offellows come too, and that will spoil all the sport."

  "All right," said Charlie. "I say what a day we shall have! I'll bringmy watch and knife, you know, and some grub, and we can picnic there,eh?"

  "That'll be splendid. Well, I must go in now, so good-bye, Newcome, andshake hands."

  What a grip was that! on one side all trust and fervour, and on theother all fraud and malice!

  Tom Drift was not yet utterly bad. Would that he had allowed hisconscience to speak and his better self prevail! Half a dozen times inthe course of his walk from the playground to the school he repented ofthe wicked part he was playing in the scheme to injure Charlie. Buthalf a dozen times the thought of Gus and his taunts, and therecollection of his own bruised forehead came to drive out all passingsentiments of pity or remorse.

  Charlie rejoined his chum with a beaming face.

  "Well," asked Jim, "what has he been saying to humbug you this time?"

  "Nothing very particular; and I won't let you call him a humbug. I say,Jim, old boy, he's made it up at l
ast, and we're friends, Tom Drift andI! Hurrah! I was never so glad, isn't it jolly?"

  Jim by no means shared his friend's enthusiasm. Like his elder brother,he instinctively disliked Tom Drift, without exactly being able to givea reason.

  His reserve, however, had no effect on Charlie's high spirits. At lastthe wish of his heart had been gained! No longer did he walk with theburden of a broken promise weighting his neck; no longer did theconsciousness of having an enemy oppress him.

  "Simpleton!" many of my readers will exclaim. Perhaps he was; but evenif you laugh at him, I think you will hardly despise him for his simple-mindedness, for who would not rather be such a one than the tempter, TomDrift?

  All that week he was jubilant. Boys looked round in astonishment at theshrillness of his whistle and the ring of his laughter. His corner ofthe class room was a simple Babel, and the number of apples he bestowedin charity was prodigious.

  Something, every one could see, had happened to make him happier thanever. Few knew what that something was, and fewer still knew what itmeant.

  "What are you up to to-morrow?" asked the elder Halliday of his fag onthe Friday evening.

  "Fishing," briskly replied the boy.

  "You're for ever fishing," said Joe. "I suppose that young brother ofmine is going with you?"

  "No; Jim's going to play in the match against the Badgers."

  The "Badgers," let me explain, was the name of a scratch cricket elevenmade up of boys in the first, second and third forms.

  "Are you going alone, then?"

  Charlie felt uncomfortable as he answered,--

  "No."

  "Whom are you going with?" pursued the inquiring Joe.

  "A fellow in the fifth who asked me to come."

  "What's his name?"

  Charlie had no help for it now.

  "Tom Drift," he faltered.

  "Tom Drift! I thought you and he were at loggerheads."

  "Oh, don't you know we've made it up? He was awfully kind about it, andsaid he was sorry, when it was really my fault, and we shook hands, andto-morrow we are going to fish in a place he knows where there's no endof trout."

  "Where's that?"

  "He didn't want me to tell, for fear everybody should come and spoil thesport; but I suppose I can tell you, though; it's up the Sharle, nearGurley."

  "Humph! I've fished there before now. Not such a wonderful lot offish, either."

  "I suppose you won't be there to-morrow?" asked Charlie nervously,afraid of losing the confidence of Tom Drift by attracting strangers tohis waters.

  "Not if I know it," replied Joe. "I say, youngster, I thought you hadgiven up the notion of making up to that fellow?"

  "I didn't make up to him, only I can't be sorry to be friends withhim--"

  "Well, I hope you won't be sorry now you've done it. Take care whatyou're about, that's all."

  Charlie was again perplexed to understand why Halliday seemed to havesuch a dislike to poor Tom.

  Just as he was going off to bed Joe stopped him and asked,--

  "By the way, shall you be using your watch to-morrow?"

  "Well, I promised I'd take it, to see how the time went; but I dare saywe could do without it, and I would like to lend it to you, Halliday."

  "Not a bit of it," replied the other. "I can do without it as well asyou. I am going to walk over to Whitstone Woods and back."

  "Hullo, that's a long trot," said Charlie. "It must be nearly thirtymiles."

  "Something like that," said Joe. "Walcot and I are going to make a dayof it."

  "Which way do you go?"

  "Through Gurley, and then over Rushton Common and past Slingcomb."

  "Never! I wish I could do thirty miles at a stretch."

  "So you will some day. Good-night."

  And Charlie went to bed, to dream of the lance-wood top of his rod andthe trout in the Sharle.

  In the meanwhile the conspirators had had another meeting in Drift'sden.

  "Well, have you hooked him?" asked Gus.

  "Yes; it's all right. He took it all in like a lamb."

  "And all the school," said Margetson, "is talking of the greatreconciliation, and the gratification which that event will undoubtedlyafford to your venerable mother."

  "Shut up, will you, Margetson? I've had quite enough of that chaff."

  "But I do assure you, Tom--"

  "That'll do," said Tom, snappishly; and Margetson did not go the lengthof saying what it was he was so ready to assure him of.

  "Well," said Gus, "we'll meet you and the young cub at the cross roadsby Sharle Bridge. The races don't begin till twelve, so we shall havelots of time. I mean to see if we can't get a trap at Gurley, and dothe thing in style. What do you say? We could get one for about tenbob."

  "All serene," said Margetson. "I'll fork out my share."

  "You'll pay for me, Tom," said Shadbolt, "won't you?"

  "I'll see," said Tom.

  "All right, that's settled; and you are seeing about grub, Tom, aren'tyou? Don't forget the etceteras. What time have you told young mooney-face?"

  "Nine. He's sure to be in time."

  "Well, we'll start a little before, you know, and meet you quite byaccident, and the young beggar won't smell a rat till we are safe inGurley."

  "And if he turns cantankerous?"

  "Then we can put Shaddy to look after him."

  "Who's going to win the Gulley Plate, Gus?"

  And then the party fell to canvassing the entries for the morrow'sraces, and making their bets, in which, of course, Tom stood almostbound to lose, whichever horse won.

  Long ere they had parted company Charlie was sound asleep and dreaming,with me under his pillow.