King of Ranleigh: A School Story

by F. S. Brereton

  CHAPTER VIII

  BREAKING BOUNDS

  Never before did a distinguished party of strangers come to the ancienttown of Guildford more jubilant. Heads were craned over the side of thecar which the ruffian Higgins had provided, staring eyes looked in alldirections, but mainly skyward.

  "Perhaps we'll see 'em flying," suggested Clive breathlessly, for hismechanical mind was stirred to the highest pitch by the thought ofseeing men launched into the air.

  "Hold hard!" shouted Masters, whose quick eye had lighted on somethingdecidedly alluring, and who was ever alert to make the very utmost ofthe smallest opportunity. "Hold hard!" he almost shouted as the carcrawled jerkily along the high street and past a pastry-cook's window,in which were displayed a tempting mass of tarts and cakes. It was likethis greedy fellow. When food was about, when it happened to be anywherewithin sight or scent, he had not a soul above eating. What mattered itif there were an aeroplane meeting? What did he care if men were tofly? Food was food, and Masters had always a healthy hunger.

  "You chaps," he began, "here's our chance. If we miss it, ten to onewe'll be hanging about without so much as a crumb, and I'm jolly empty."

  "But--but, Susanne's friend is going to stand a feed," Hugh remindedthem. "Don't forget that."

  Masters pooh-poohed the suggestion, though on the previous day he hadwaxed indignant at the thought that such a treat could not be in store.He had called Susanne a sneak. Now, with those alluring cakes within hisken, he chose to forget what had happened. Also there was such a thingas remembering the saying, "A bird in the hand is worth two in thebush." Masters had coins in his pocket, thanks again to Susanne, and, aswe have said, he had a perennial appetite.

  "Blow Susanne's feed!" he declared. "If it comes off, all the better. Ifor one'll be ready. But I'm famishing now. So stop her."

  The band descended straightway, and without much need for furtherpersuasion. When they mounted the car again sundry well-filled bagsaccompanied them. Then on to the field. Crowds were making their waythither on foot, others in motors and traps. Outside the gates therewas a seething mass of people, through whom Higgins drove the car atreckless speed. And then the gates opened. They were passed in after anod and a few words between Higgins and the gatekeeper.

  "Look out! Duck!" whispered Bert, suddenly, in hoarse tones of alarm."Bothered if that isn't Old B. Duck, I tell you."

  With one accord the car load bent their heads till it appeared as if oneand all were engaged with their boot laces. Clive glanced askance intothe crowd, and there beheld the tall, bulky form of Mr. Branson, hisdormitory master. The sight of that tall, genial giant set him quaking.Not that Mr. Branson was at all of the fierce order. Rather, he was aneasy-going fellow, who had as perfect an understanding of boys as evermaster had. But he could be roused to anger--anger which as a ruleresulted in the bestowal of a cuff, for Mr. Branson took the law intohis own hands as a rule, and did not favour sending boys to theHeadmaster with one of those short, explanatory notes which resulted ina caning. No, Old B. was a good, slow, well-meaning giant whom alladored, and none more so than Clive. But he feared him also.

  "Old B.," he murmured. "Old B. right enough, and looking this way."

  "Seen us?" asked Bert desperately.

  "Never!" declared Masters. "He's too sleepy for that."

  "Then he's spotted the car," suggested Susanne. "He'd know it, as he andothers of the masters use it at times. What's he doing?"

  "Gone off into the crowd. Looked awfully hard at this car," said Clive,suppressing a shiver. "Smiled, that tired sort of smile of his, and thencut off in the opposite direction."

  The statement brought all heads to their normal elevation again, whilequestioning glances were cast first at the crowd, now left behind, andthen at one another.

  "What did Old B. mean by that, then?" asked Bert, after a painful pause."Stared awfully hard, and then sloped off."

  "As if to avoid us. As if he guessed there were Ranleigh boys in the carand didn't want to spot 'em," suggested Clive.

  "Good Old B.! Just like him," cried Masters, regaining his composure,for the sudden information that Mr. Branson was in the neighbourhood andeyeing them had thrown him into a flutter.

  "More impots," he had groaned inwardly. "More drills, and a whacking asa matter of course. Ranleigh's an awful place for a fellow to be sentto. Tyrants, the whole lot of 'em!"

  "In any case, he's here, and means to watch the flying. A beastlynuisance," reflected Susanne. "Of course, we shall have to keep our eyesopen. But I know a dodge to beat him. I'll look out for Levallois, andif he's here, why, he'll invite us to his hangar. Old B.'ll never dareto enter."

  Thus relieved for the time being of their fears the party tumbled out ofthe car, and having agreed with Higgins to meet him precisely two and ahalf hours later, struck across the huge field in which the meeting wastaking place toward the half-dozen hangars in which the flying machineswere housed.

  "That's Levallois'," said Susanne, pointing to one over which the flagof France flew. "I'll cross direct."

  "But--but you can't," Bert told him, for Bert was one of those youthswho somewhat lack assurance. He had a huge respect for authority andorder. He often envied Masters his cheek, and Clive and Hugh the dashand persistence which carried them through difficulties. "You can't,Susanne. The place is roped off, and there are scores of police."

  "Can't! You wait," laughed the Frenchman. "See that bobby. Looks a goodchap, eh? See me get round him."

  They allowed the voluble Frenchman to go ahead of them a few paces, asif he were not attached to the party, and watched with breathlessinterest as he nonchalantly ducked under the ropes which kept the crowdback. Susanne, his monocle in position, strolled away across theenclosure.

  "Hi! You stand back there!" came the summons from the nearest constable."Get out of the enclosure, please."

  Susanne might have been deaf. It was not until the officer of the lawactually had his hand upon his shoulder that the young fellow showed thesmallest attention to his order. And then, in the inimitable style ofFeofe, a style somewhat spoiled by the jeers and laughter of hisschoolfellows, but nevertheless a style which was part and parcel of theyoung fellow, Susanne raised his hat and swept it from his head. Inwonder and amazement his comrades heard him addressing the constable inFrench, speaking volubly, waving his arms, pointing to the hangarsopposite. And then he dived into a waistcoat pocket and produced a card.

  "What's this?" demanded the constable, a young man, evidently puzzled."Can't read it. You're French, eh?"

  Susanne nodded energetically. He beckoned to Masters, and at the signalthat young fellow dived beneath the rope and ran to join him. At onceSusanne fired off a string of words, totally unintelligible to theconstable, and mostly so to Masters, who was no great French scholar.But he knew what Susanne wanted, and knew also what he and his friendsrequired. Also Masters was just the youth to carry a matter like thisthrough in splendid style. He had cheek enough for a dozen.

  "It's like this, don't you see, constable," he said, smiling sweetly atthe officer. "Monsieur Feofe--that's French, you know--Monsieur Feofecomes from France, where all the flying's done, and Monsieur Levallois'sone of the flyers. That's his shed over there, with the French flag overit. Well, of course, Monsieur Levallois expects Monsieur Feofe and hisfriends. We've come here to see him. He wants us over at his place, yousee. I'm sorry you can't understand Monsieur Feofe. But that's the worstof these fellows who can't speak English."

  An older constable might even have been taken in, though to be sure hemight have noticed the half-suppressed grins on the faces of the partyof young fellows stationed by the ropes. Also he would certainly havebeen surprised at the youth of these visitors. But he was a young man,on duty almost for the first time, and somewhat confused.

  "I've got my orders, strict," he began.

  "Of course, of course!" interjected Masters hurriedly. "Of course,constable, orders to keep the crowd back. Quite right for you to obey'em. But we're not the cro
wd. You see, Monsieur Feofe's a swell sort offellow. It'd be rude to refuse to pass him and his friends through. Hewouldn't understand it. Monsieur Levallois would be furious, and I daresay the inspector in charge of the police'd get a wiggin'. So it'll beall right, see?"

  That young constable wasn't by any means too sure. But Susanne'sapparent ignorance of English, his obvious impatience at this delay, hisembarrassing politeness, for he continued to sweep his hat from his headon occasion, while firing off a long string of unintelligible words atMasters, all had their effect. The man wavered.

  "My orders is to pass no one----" he began again.

  "Come on, you chaps," sang out Masters, whose cheek was tremendous. "Theconstable understands. We'd best hurry, for Monsieur Levallois iswaiting. Thanks, constable. If there's any trouble refer the inspectorto me. Sorry to have bothered you."

  The arm of the law passed them through, reluctantly and doubtfully. Itwas as much as Hugh and Clive could do to suppress their mirth till outof hearing of the policeman, and Susanne's behaviour made the task evenmore difficult. For that young fellow heartily enjoyed every item inthis manoeuvre. He bowed low to the constable, covering that unhappyand uncomfortable young fellow with blushes. He swept his hat from hishead for perhaps the twentieth time, and rattled off his thanks inFrench. And then, following sedately across the field, he looked abouthim with inimitable coolness, and turned to survey the gathering crowdsthrough his monocle, which was still screwed into his eye.

  "Of all the cheek!" gasped Bert, to whom such an adventure was arevelation. "Come on, Susanne. Old B.'ll spot you the instant his eyesfall on you. Do stop fooling and come along!"

  "Grand!" declared Clive, thoroughly enjoying the entertainment. "Thatbobby was finely flustered. But, I say, supposing Levallois won't haveanything to say to us. I've heard that lots of these flying fellows getpestered with people in their hangars and throw them all out. SupposingLevallois don't want us."

  "Supposing he ain't there," grinned Hugh, bringing up anotherdifficulty.

  The suggestions caused the little band to close in as if for mutualprotection.

  "Well?" asked Bert desperately. "Supposing Levallois isn't over there,or don't want us?"

  Susanne's serenity was undisturbed.

  "There's some sort of a Frenchman, anyway," he observed. "He'll be gladto see me in any case. Of course, if he don't want you fellows, it'llbe awkward--for you."

  He grinned openly at them till Masters could have struck him. It wasperhaps just as well that a stop was put to the argument at that momentby the wheeling out of an aeroplane from one of the hangars. That setthe party hurrying till they arrived at the line of sheds. Here therewas much movement. Officials came and went, more than one eyeing theboys with evident suspicion. An important-looking inspector of policewas posted adjacent to the very hangar over which the French flag flew,and promptly pounced upon them.

  "What's this?" he asked severely. "No one but gentlemen flying, theirmechanics and managers are allowed here. What fool's broken orders bypassing you in?"

  But again Susanne and Masters saved the situation, the one by hisembarrassing politeness and his volubility, the other by his speciousexplanation.

  "Oh, Levallois, that's the French gentleman's name, is it?" asked theinspector, mollified, but not entirely convinced. "Well, if he says thathe's asked you here, suppose you must stay. But none of the other flyinggents are having friends, least of all youngsters. Still, we don't wantto be rough on a foreigner. He might not understand. Here, sir," hecalled, putting his head into the hangar over which the French flagflew, "here's a parcel of young gents come to see you; and some ofthem's out for a lark, I'll bet."

  A smile stole across his face. Masters' get-up was perfectly ludicrous.As to his fellows, not one but wore his obvious youth in awkward manner,save and excepting Susanne. The composure of that young fellow waswonderful. He stepped into the hangar, leaving his comrades outside tolisten in trepidation to his conversation with its invisible owner. Itwas with a sigh of relief that they saw him appear at the door andbeckon.

  "It isn't Levallois, after all," he grinned, "but Dubonnet. But it's allright and square, Monsieur Dubonnet's a sportsman. Come into the placeand feed. He's going to have a meal now, for the wind's too high as yetfor flying."

  Masters' eyes were wide open with amazement. Bert could hardly believehis ears. As for Hugh and Clive they were bubbling over with excitement.Nor were they intensely astonished. The latter, at any rate, had seen somuch of Susanne as to convince him that what that young fellow took inhand he accomplished. For Feofe had that happy knack of winningfriendship, a knack which it behoves all to acquire. Also he was farmore at his ease with his elders than any of the others. It seemedalmost natural, therefore, to Clive that he should have brought aboutthis introduction. Clive bobbed to the young fellow whom Susannepresented, and then, forgetting all else, stepped up to the aeroplaneand began with Hugh's help a close and critical examination. Then a callfrom the smiling owner sent the two of them to the far corner where aboard table was erected, with a ham and a joint of beef upon it,together with other items.

  "Help yourselves, gentlemen," said Monsieur Dubonnet. "Accident hasgiven me friends to-day, and I needed them. Now, let's get the mealstarted and then tell me how you managed this business. I suppose you'refrom Ranleigh?"

  "Yes," admitted Masters, his mouth already half filled with ham, hiseyes protruding at the directness of the question.

  "Know it?" asked Clive.

  "Rather! There myself, you see. Breaking bounds, eh? Well, I don't blameyou. But, by the way, I'm expecting one of the masters. My old dormitorymaster, you know--Old B. Know him? Of course you do."

  The bombshell produced an impressive and painful silence. Masters lookeddesperately across at the door. Even Susanne reddened, and then MonsieurDubonnet relieved the tension by laughing uproariously.

  "Had you all badly," he grinned. "All the same, Old B.'ll be paying mea visit. But we'll make that right. There's a place screened off at theback of the hangar and you can get cover there. I'll post one of youfellows to watch at the door."

  And so for the following hour they took it in turn to watch.The meal finished, Clive and Hugh plied Monsieur Dubonnet withquestions--questions, too, of such an intelligent nature that theyaroused his interest. Indeed, the enthusiasm of these young fellowsgained for them an invitation to try a flight.

  "You'll like it awfully," declared Monsieur Dubonnet. "Of course, onefeels scared at first, but that's natural. Accidents do happen at times,I know, but I don't think you need be fearful."

  It was with beating hearts that our two young friends, half an hourlater, smuggled themselves into the cab mounted on the machine. Twomechanics appeared and wheeled it from the shed, while Susanne and theothers kept carefully in the background.

  "See you later," sang out Bert.

  "Alive or dead," grinned Masters, who was envying Hugh and Clivegreatly. "Think of me, Darrell, when you're falling."

  But no amount of chaff had any effect on our two amateur flyers. Thestarting of the engine brought the red to their cheeks. The rush of airover their heads sent their pulses dancing. The roar of the exhaustpassed almost unnoticed as the machine started forward. And then up theywent, swooping over the heads of the people gathered to watch theflying. We need not record here their impressions. Suffice it to saythat a very proud and gratified couple at length descended from themachine and joined their comrades.

  "Time to be off," Masters reminded them. "Higgins'll be wondering what'shappened. And besides, if we don't move soon we shall be late forcall-over."

  Taking care to view their surroundings before issuing from the hangar,and having volubly thanked the great Dubonnet for his kindness, thelittle party made their way across the enclosure, under the ropes, andso to the spot where the car was to await them. There was no Higginsthere on their arrival, but a search discovered him in an adjacent boothwhere refreshments were provided.

  "Looks as if he'd had his full share t
oo," Hugh whispered to Clive."Suppose he can drive?"

  "Hope so," was the laconic answer, though there was doubt in the tones.For Higgins had been refreshing himself with a vengeance. He was nonetoo steady as he issued from the booth and leered at his passengers.However, there was no doing anything in the matter.

  "The beast!" growled Bert in tones of disgust. "I've always dislikedHiggins, and I hate him now. If it hadn't been for the fact that hecould get the use of the car and so make it possible for us to come tothis meeting, I'd never have consented. The brute's drunk."

  "No, not quite," corrected Susanne. "But the drive home'll be exciting."

  It proved to be filled to repletion with excitement, for Higgins scoopedthrough the town of Guildford as if police did not exist and pedestrianshad no right to the pavements. His course was followed by howls of ragefrom passers-by, to all of which he paid no notice. He sent the carwhizzing out into the country, and dashed along the high-road at giddyspeed, while Clive and his fellows clung to their seats as best theycould.

  "Settling down nicely to it," reflected Susanne, after a while, for ittook a great deal to shake the coolness of the French youth. Indeed, heseemed rather to have enjoyed the recklessness of the driver. "He don'tsteer into the footpath quite so often, and he isn't going so fast. Inanother twenty minutes we ought to be back near the common."

  "And mighty glad I'll be too," admitted Bert. "Of all the brutes, thisHiggins is the biggest. But he does seem to be settling down. No, hedoesn't. He's putting on the pace again."

  "Racing," ejaculated Masters, as if the admission pained him. "Look,there's a car ahead and Higgins means to pass it."

  Perhaps a quarter of a mile ahead they could see the back of anothercar, one, too, with which the boys of Ranleigh were familiar. For theyknew it to be one of the three which plied for hire in theneighbourhood.

  "Slow as a beetle. We'll beat 'em easy," declared Hugh, stimulated bythe thought of a race.

  "Walk past it if Higgins can manage to steer decently," agreed Clive.

  "Shove her ahead," cried Susanne, springing to his feet and leaning overthe driver. "Keep her straight, Higgins. Now, let her go. We'll beatthose other fellows into a cocked hat. Hullo, they're looking back."

  There were two passengers in the vehicle in front, and at this momentthey looked behind them, and then turned to urge their own driver togreater speed.

  "Whew! Did you recognise 'em?" asked Hugh, staring after the other car.

  "Who?" demanded Clive.

  "Those fellows?"

  "No. Why?"

  "Ranleighans," said Hugh with conviction. "Spotted them at once."

  "Rawlings and Trendall," declared Susanne. "I knew that it was they allalong. Just fancy catching a prefect breaking bounds! Saw 'em at theflying meeting. They were in that booth with Higgins, and slipped outwhen I went in to fetch him. Anyway, they can't give us away. We're allin the same boat this time, though if it had been different, andRawlings could have caught us out, there'd have been trouble. We've gothim nicely this time."

  If it were in fact the two mentioned in the car ahead, then Clive andhis friends need have no fear of the consequences of recognition. Forwhat a prefect can do, that also can smaller fry. Also, if Rawlings hadbroken bounds with Trendall, then his lips were sealed.

  "Hooray! He's bound to hold his tongue," cried Masters; "and if he triesit on with any of us after this, why, we've only to rake this matter up.Now let's whop his car, and pass 'em. Go ahead, Higgins."

  Higgins needed no encouragement, and to speak the truth the cold airseemed to have steadied him. There were now few of those frightfulswervings to which he had treated his passengers earlier on. He kept thecentre of the road, and accelerated his engine till the car dithered andvibrated from end to end. As to the driver of the car ahead, he jerkedat sundry levers, opened his throttle and tried to make the best ofwhat was a hopeless case. Gradually he was being overhauled. He cast aglance desperately over his shoulder and again jerked at his levers. Butall to no purpose. Higgins' car drew abreast, then level, in whichposition the two cars thundered along for a while, the two sets ofpassengers glaring at one another.

  "Hooray! We win!" shouted Masters, half standing and grimacing atTrendall.

  "Pass them! Pass them!" bellowed Susanne, waving his arms in trulyFrench style. And then he must needs lift his hat. The action setRawlings scowling. He was angry enough already at the thought that he, aprefect, had been discovered in the act of breaking bounds, discoveredtoo by a group of boys who held him as an enemy. And now to be passed bythem in a race was more than he could put up with.

  "Stop that racing!" he shouted. "There'll be an accident. Order yourfellow to slack down and let us go ahead."

  "Order your own," responded Masters, careless of the consequences."We've as much right to go fast as you have. Fall behind. You're theslower car."

  Rawlings shook a big fist at them. Susanne acknowledged the threat byonce more ironically lifting his hat. Masters grimaced at hisseniors. And Higgins stirred his car to even greater efforts. Theyshot ahead, leaving the occupants of the rival car fuming with rage. Allheads were turned to watch them. Faces were reddened with excitement,and eyes shone at the thought of such a brilliant victory. A hoarsecheer was even uttered by Clive and his friends, a reckless cheer, justto let Rawlings know what they thought of him and how little theyfeared. And then all gave vent to a howl of dismay. For, of a sudden,something went wrong with the following car. It swerved to one side,recovered a straight line, and then turned into the pathway. A momentlater the rear end had risen into the air, and as Clive and the otherswatched, first Rawlings, then Trendall were tossed out into a dense massof bushes lining the path. The driver followed them, smashing his waythrough the glass wind screen. They heard his body thud to the ground,while the up-turned car fell on him. Their shouts and shrieks causedHiggins to cram his brakes on and bring their own vehicle to astandstill. A minute later they were gathered about the up-turned car.

  "FIRST RAWLINGS THEN TRENDALL WERE TOSSED OUT INTO ADENSE MASS OF BUSHES."]

  "Quick! Pull it off him," commanded Susanne, seemingly as cool as acucumber. "Now, all together. Ah! He's killed."

  "Killed?" It was Rawlings who asked the question, his lips bloodless,his knees almost knocking. "Killed? Then--then what happens? Do we haveto appear?"

  It was like him to think first of himself, and not of the unfortunateman. But the question he had asked was one which was bound to be asked.It was one which intimately concerned one and all of the boys ofRanleigh who had broken bounds. They turned from the body of the man toone another.

  "I'm awfully sorry for that poor chap," said Susanne at last. "As forus, we're in for it, eh?"

  "Absolutely," agreed Masters. "Right in the soup."

  "Unless----" began Rawlings.

  "Unless what?" asked Clive curtly.

  "Unless we can get out of the mess by----"

  "Telling lies?" asked Hugh, backing Clive up swiftly.

  Rawlings nodded ever so little.

  "Thanks, Rawlings," said Susanne coldly. "You and Trendall do as youlike. We'll be getting onward."