Acton's Feud Part 6

"Look here, Phil. You always did the square thing. Let us have the reason for this," said d.i.c.k, earnestly.

"Sorry, Worcester, I can't."

"Good night, then."

"Good night."

The rage and consternation of the Biffenites when they found that Bourne was immovable in his decision can be imagined. Some were inclined to take the matter up to Corker's throne, but they were a miserable minority.

"Let Corker have a finger in our own private affairs!" said d.i.c.k, with intense disgust. "What next, gentlemen? We won't be able to blow our own noses without his permission. Keep the masters out of this, whatever we do. Can't we see the thing through ourselves? I vote we try, anyhow."

Some were inclined to blame d.i.c.k for accepting the cap; but pretty generally it was agreed that, if Acton was not to have it, d.i.c.k was the next best man, but at what a distance! The honour of having two men in the eleven was no _solatium_ for the wounded pride of Biffen's, when they considered their great injury. The reason, though, was, naturally, what puzzled them--and, for the matter of that, the whole school. Did Bourne expect his team to play footer as though it were a game of croquet? Were drawing-room manners to be introduced on to the Acres' clay? Were the famous eleven of St. Amory's to amble about, like a swarm of bread-and-b.u.t.ter misses? One wit suggested wadded coats and respirators.

Acton rough, indeed! Phil Bourne must be an embodiment of his grandmother, then! Most of the f.a.gs in Biffen's house sent Phil elaborate instructions for "a nice drawing-room game to take the place of 'Socker'

football--nasty, rough 'Socker' footer--for one-and-six, and guaranteed to do no injury to the most delicate const.i.tution. A child can play it!"

These letters were anonymous, of course; but Biffen's house-paper was freely used. "Anyhow," said Phil, with a gentle smile to me, "the spelling is obviously Biffen's."

Acton went on his own way, serenely indifferent to his house, which would have made a G.o.d of him on the smallest provocation. He cheerfully ignored Bourne, and he had the art of never seeing Phil when they met, in school or out, though, of course, Phil minded this not at all. When the Carthusians were played, Acton spent the afternoon reading with Raven, whose exam, was now very near; and, whilst the two were grinding out all the absurd details of Horace and his patron, "and the poet's little farm, and the other rot which gains Perry Exhibitions," the shouts and cheers of the school down at the Acres came floating up the hill to their room.

The school lost their match with the Carthusians--the match which a good St. Amorian would rather win than any two others--and it was plain that d.i.c.k, though a useful fellow, could not bottle up the forwards in the Actonian style. This defeat was the last straw to break the back of the school's patience.

It was customary, after the Carthusian match, for the footer captain to give his eleven a formal tea, Phil arranged the usual preliminaries, sick at heart, and wearily certain as to the result. Three put in an appearance--Vercoe, Baines, and Roberts--and in place of the burly forms of the rest of the St. Amory's eleven, the sylph-like figures of their f.a.gs flitted to Phil's hall of entertainment with curt little notes.

Worcester and the rest "regretted they were unable to avail themselves of the captain's invitation."

The tea was not a success.

The school followed the plain lead of the eleven, and as Phil hurried along to chapel the next day no one hooked in with him, as had been done "the day before yesterday!" He was left severely alone.

In plain words, St Amory's School consigned Phil Bourne to Coventry.

CHAPTER VII

THANKS TO ACTON

After the Carthusian match there was but one topic, or to be strictly accurate, perhaps, two topics of interest in the school--who would be c.o.c.k-house at footer and who would get the Perry Exhibition.

The rest of the houses knew that Biffen's house was not now the unconsidered article it was once; that it wasn't the door-mat upon which any one might wipe his feet before proceeding into the inner circles of the housers' compet.i.tion, and there was more than a little curiosity to see how far the "resurrected" house would mount.

But not a single soul dreamt that it would reach the final. The whole school gasped for a fortnight on end as Biffen's annihilated Dover's, Hargen's, Sharpe's, and Merishall's _seriatim_, and at last faced Corker's house in the final. This was a resurrected house with a vengeance! Corker's had had a bye in the first round and had been drawn against rather rickety houses since, but they were generally fancied to pull off the final as usual, for Bourne was captain, and they had Hodgson and Roberts of the eleven as well. The wonderful progress of Biffen's had thrown an awful lot of excitement into the game.

The match was fixed for the last Sat.u.r.day in the term, and the result of the Perry Exhibition was to be announced on the evening of the same day, so the last Sat.u.r.day was going to be the memorable day of the Michaelmas stretch.

If you want a full account of the match you had better write to the editor of _The Amorian_. He will send you the magazine with a page or so of description and account, but all I'm going to say is that Bourne and Acton played as they had never played before--I think I've said that before about Acton, but he really was superlative in the housers' final--and that five minutes from time the score was "one all." Then Acton showed the school a stroke of genius. He brought Raven out from centre-forward, where he was quite unable to cope with Bourne, whispered him to go "back" with Worcester, and before any one could realize what was happening he was playing forward himself. He' was a "lambent flame along the ground" if you like. In a second Biffen's were swarming round Roberts in goal, Acton pa.s.sed out to Chalmers, who was ready for the pa.s.s, and in a twinkling the ball was in the net. From the row you might have imagined the school had gone mad.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ACTON JUST REACHED IT WITH HIS HEAD.]

The ball was kicked off again. Almost immediately Acton secured near the centre. He dribbled through the ruck of his opponents until he saw Bourne upon him. With a smile of triumph upon his lips he gently rolled the leather to Chalmers, who was hungrily waiting for the pa.s.s out on the touch-line. Chalmers waltzed beautifully for the short run almost to the corner flag. He steadied himself for one instant after his run, and then lifted the ball magnificently into the goal mouth. As the leather was skimming past, Acton just reached it with his head and deflected it high and dry out of Roberts' reach into the net. It was the supreme effort of his splendid game.

Biffen's had won by three goals to one!

They carried Acton off the field in ecstasy, and nearly scared Dame Biffen out of her wits by the "whisper" of "c.o.c.k-house." Well, it certainly was unusual.

After tea the whole of St. Amory's crowded into the Speech Room to hear the result of the Perry Exhibition. There would not be a fellow away, I should fancy, bar the cripples in the hospital, for there was no end of excitement. Was this to be another Biffen's triumph? Was Raven of the Fifth to beat Hodgson, the chosen of the Sixth, for the Perry? It was not to be expected that he would, but when the whisper circled round that Acton had '"coached" him in cla.s.sics it was agreed that perhaps there would be another feather in Acton's cap.

The masters were there on the platform in serried ranks, the whole fifty of them, from Corker to Pfenning who "does" the music.

Corker, as usual, went straight to the mark, whilst the entire ma.s.s of fellows kept a death-like silence. "The result of the examination for the Perry Exhibition is as follows:--

1st. Arthur Raven, 672 marks.

2nd. Theodore Hodgson, 591 marks.

3rd. Augustus Vernon Robert Todd, 114 marks."

Then out broke the usual uproar, "shivering the silence," as some one says, "into clamour." We all cheered for Raven, who scored a popular and unexpected victory, for why should a Fifth Form fellow beat one of the Sixth? Biffen's crowd kept up the cheering until Corker rose again.

"I can heartily congratulate Raven on his success, for his cla.s.sical knowledge was distinctly good. Hodgson I can also congratulate, for his papers too were good. As for Augustus Vernon Robert Todd"--we all yelled with laughter as Dr. Moore scrambled in hot haste through Todd's awful list of names, but were again quiet when he dropped his eye-gla.s.ses from his eagle's beak, a sure sign he was going to "savage" somebody--"as for _his_ performance in this _examination_, I can only regard it as a very bad practical joke, or as his _ballon d'essai_ for some kindergarten scholarship."

Raven got up from his seat near the door. He was pale to the lips, but his voice was clear and unhesitating. "If you please, sir, may I say a word?"

"Eh, what?" said Corker. "Say a word? Oh, certainly."

"I am very glad indeed to hear that I have won the Perry Exhibition. I know in my own mind that I could never have beaten my friend Hodgson if I had not had Acton's help. I owe the winning of the Exhibition entirely to him, for he has read the whole of the cla.s.sics with me and helped me in every way in his power. I cannot thank him enough for all he has done, but at least I owe him this open acknowledgment."

Corker looked no end pleased, and turned round and beamed on Biffen, whose good-natured easy face shone with pleasure and delight.

"Biffen," said good old Corker, audibly, "your house is fortunate in having Acton, and St. Amory such a good amateur coach in cla.s.sics.

c.o.c.k-house, too, bless me!"

And can you wonder that Biffen's, frenzied with delight, carried Raven and Acton shoulder high through the gas-lit streets?

Whilst the Biffenites were thus shouting their way home, one unhappy youth hurried to his room feeling as though the moon had fallen out of heaven and crushed him--Todd. After that night when he had made the bet with Cotton, he had neither worked for the Perry nor yet left it alone, but loafed about with Cotton as usual, and piffled with the work for the Exhibition. As a last-lap spurt, he had, in the last week or so, desperately stuffed himself with cunning tips leading twistingly to nowhere. Never had any one faced a serious examination with such a rag-bag of tips as Todd, and the examination had found him out with a vengeance.

As he slunk along to his quarters, Corker's words were buzzing in his ears unendingly. "As for Augustus Vernon Robert Todd"--"_ballon d'essai_"--"Kindergarten!" Oh! it was a sickener, and how the fellows had laughed!

As for his bet with Cotton about c.o.c.k-house, why, he had, when he saw those goals put on at the last moment, felt a cold shiver run down his back. He had crawled off the Acres a sick and sorry and miserable wretch.

Cotton had, being rather riled at his chum's temper for the last month, hinted, in unmistakable terms, that the debt was to be paid on return after holidays. Todd contemplated the ravishing prospect of the future with unmixed feelings. Between the upper and nether millstones of the lost Exhibition and the lost bet he had been crashed, annihilated!

When he had shut the study door, in sheer despair of spirit, he laid his head on the table and--Well, did he blub? All I know is, the Rev. E.

Taylor knocked at the door once, twice, thrice, and Todd heard him not.

The house master came in and surveyed the bowed form of poor Gus with a good-natured smile, tempered with some scorn. He took the liberty of loudly poking Gus's decaying fire, whereat the young gentleman sprang up instanter.

"I knocked, Todd, but I suppose you were thinking too deeply to hear me."

"Sorry, sir," said Gus, hurriedly getting the master a chair, "and, as a matter of fact, I was thinking."

"Yes!"

"What an awful a.s.s I've been, sir!" "I don't know quite about the a.s.s, but you've certainly not been an epitome of all that's wise this term. It was on that very subject that I came here to have a word with you before we go for the holidays."