Bert Lloyd's Boyhood Part 17

Then, again, he did not feel at all certain that his father and mother would approve of his having a fight with one of his schoolmates. They disliked anything of the kind, he knew well enough, and perhaps they would not be willing to make an exception in this case. He wished very much he could ask their permission, but that, of course, was out of the question. The mere mention of such a thing would a.s.suredly raise a howl of derision from the other boys, and even Teter Johnston would no doubt ask contemptuously if "he was going to back out of it in that way."

No, no; he must take the chances of his parents' approval, and likewise--and here came in the third difficulty--of Dr. Johnston's also, for he could not help wondering what the doctor would think when he heard of it, as he was certain to do.

Thus perplexed and bewildered, the morning dragged slowly along for Bert, who would one moment be wishing that recess time could be postponed indefinitely, and the next, impatient for its arrival.

At length twelve o'clock struck, and the boys, who were by this time all fully aware of what was in the wind, crowded out into the yard and quickly formed a ring in the corner farthest away from the schoolroom.

Into this ring presently stepped Rod Graham, looking very jaunty and defiant, supported by Harry Rawdon, the fly catcher, the one friend he had in the school. A moment later came Bert Lloyd, pale but determined, with Teter and Frank on either side of him, Frank wearing an expression that said as plainly as possible:

"Whip my friend Bert, if you dare."

It is neither necessary nor expedient to go into the details of the fight, which did not last very long. Acting on Teter's sage advice, Bert made no attempt to defend himself, but rushing into close quarters at once, sent in swinging blows with right and left hands alternately, striking Rod upon the face and chest, while the latter's blows fell princ.i.p.ally upon his forehead; until finally, in the fourth round, Graham, whose face had suffered severely, gave up the contest, and covering his head, with his hands, ran away from Bert, who was too tired to pursue him.

Great was the cheering at this conclusive result; and Bert, panting, perspiring, and exhausted, found himself the centre of a noisy throng of his schoolmates, who wrung his hand, clapped him upon the back, called him all sorts of names that were complimentary, and, in fact, gave him a regular ovation. After he had gone to the tap and bathed his hot face, Bert was very much pleased to find that the brunt of the battle had fallen upon his forehead, and that, consequently, he would hardly be marked at all. To be sure, when he tried to put his cap on, he discovered that it would be necessary to wear it very much on the back of his head, but he felt like doing that, anyway, so it didn't matter.

He would have liked to shake hands with Rod, and make it all up, but Rod was not to be found. After fleeing from his opponent, he had s.n.a.t.c.hed up his coat, and, deserted even by Rawdon; who was disgusted at his running away, he had gone out into the street, and did not appear again for the rest of the day.

His victory worked a great change in Bert's feelings. He was no longer troubled about what his parents would think of the fight. He felt sure they would applaud him, now that he had come out of it with banners flying, so to speak. And he was not far from right, either. Mrs. Lloyd, it is true, was a good deal shocked at first, and Mr. Lloyd questioned him very closely; but when they heard the whole story, much of which, indeed, was already familiar to them, they both agreed that under the circ.u.mstances Bert could not have acted otherwise, without placing himself in a false position.

"At the same time, Bert, dear," said his father, laying his hand upon his shoulder, "as it is your first, so I hope it will be your last fight. You have established your reputation for courage now. You can sustain it in other ways than by your fists."

Dr. Johnston's method of showing that he was fully cognisant of the event was highly characteristic. The next morning when Bert, with swollen forehead, and Rod, with blackened eyes, came before him in the same cla.s.s, he said, with one of his sardonic smiles:

"Ah, Graham, I see Lloyd has been writing his autograph on you. Well, let that be an end of it. Shake hands with one another."

Bert immediately put out his hand and grasped Rod's, which was but half extended.

"Very good," said the doctor. "We will now proceed with the lesson."

One of the most interested and excited spectators of the fight had been d.i.c.k Wilding, a boy who will require a few words of description. He was the son of one of the merchant princes of the city, and was accustomed to everything that the highest social station and abundant wealth could procure. He was a handsome young fellow, and although thoroughly spoiled and selfish, was not without his good points, a lavish generosity being the most noteworthy. This, of course, supplemented by his reckless daring as regards all schoolboy feats, and natural apt.i.tude for schoolboy sports, made him very popular at the school, and he had a large following. Previous to Bert's decisive victory over Rod Graham, he had not shown any particular interest in him, beyond committing himself to the opinion that he was a "regular brick" on the occasion of the hoisting, and again, when Bert bore his whipping so manfully. But since the fight, he had exhibited a strong desire to have Bert join the circle of his companions, and to this end cultivated his society in a very marked way.

Now, this same d.i.c.k Wilding had been in Mrs. Lloyd's mind when she had hesitated about Bert's going to Dr. Johnston's. She knew well what his bringing up had been, and had heard several stories about him, which made her dread his being a companion for Bert. She had accordingly spoken to Bert about d.i.c.k, and while taking care not to be too pointed, had made it clear that she did not want them to be intimate. This was when Bert first went to the school, and as there had seemed no prospect of anything more than a mere acquaintance springing up between the two boys, nothing had been said on the subject for some time, so that it was not fresh in his mind when d.i.c.k, somewhat to his surprise, showed such a desire for his society.

d.i.c.k's latest enterprise was the organisation of a cricket club, into which he was putting a great deal of energy. As the bats and b.a.l.l.s and other necessary articles were to be paid for out of his own pocket, he found no difficulty in getting recruits, and the list of members was fast filling up. Bert had heard a good deal about this club, and would have liked very much to belong to it, but as n.o.body belonged except those who had been invited by d.i.c.k, his prospects did not seem very bright. Great then was his delight when one day at recess, d.i.c.k came up to him and said in his most winning way:

"Say, Bert, don't you want to join my cricket club? I'd like to have you in."

Bert did not take long to answer.

"And I'd like to join ever so much," he replied, in great glee.

"All right, then; consider yourself a member, and come round to the field behind our house this afternoon. We practise there every day."

Bert was fairly dancing with joy. Yet he did not forget his friend Frank. If Frank were not a member of the club, too, half the pleasure of it would be gone. So before d.i.c.k went off, he ventured to say:

"Frank Bowser would like to belong, too, I know. Won't you ask him?"

"Certainly. No objection at all," replied d.i.c.k, in an off-hand way.

"Bring him along with you this afternoon."

With beaming face, Bert rushed over to where Frank was busy playing marbles, and drawing him aside, shouted rather than whispered in his ear:

"I've got something splendid to tell you. d.i.c.k Wilding has asked us both to join his cricket club, and we're to go to his field this very afternoon."

"You don't say so!" exclaimed Frank, his face now beaming as brightly as Bert's. "Isn't that just splendid! I wanted to belong to that club ever so much, but was afraid d.i.c.k wouldn't ask me."

They had a capital game of cricket that afternoon in the Wilding field, which made a very good ground indeed, and not only that afternoon, but for many afternoons as spring pa.s.sed into summer and the days grew longer and warmer. Bert told them at home about the club, but somehow omitted to mention the prominent part d.i.c.k Wilding played in it. In fact, he never mentioned his name at all, nor that it was his father's field in which the club met. This was the first step in a path of wrong, the taking of which was soon to lead to serious consequences.

His reason for suppressing d.i.c.k Wilding's name was plain enough. He knew that in all probability it would put an end to his connection with the club. Now this club had every attraction for a boy like Bert that such an organisation could possibly possess. It was select and exclusive, for none could belong except those who were invited by d.i.c.k. The field was a lovely place to play in, and they had it all to themselves. The b.a.l.l.s and bats and stumps were first-cla.s.s, a fine set of cricket gear having been one of d.i.c.k's Christmas presents; and, finally, d.i.c.k was always bringing out to the players iced lemonade, or ginger beer, or spruce beer, or something of the kind, which was wonderfully welcome to them when hot and tired and thirsty.

With such strong arguments as these, Bert did not find it difficult to quiet his conscience when it troubled him, as it did now and then, and he continued to be a great deal in d.i.c.k Wilding's society until something happened which caused him to bitterly regret that he had not heeded the inward monitor, and kept away from the a.s.sociations his wise mother wished him to avoid.

Mrs. Lloyd had good reason for dreading d.i.c.k Wilding's companionship for her boy, as d.i.c.k could hardly fail to do Bert harm, while the chances of Bert doing him any good were very small, since he was quite a year older and well set in his own ways. d.i.c.k's parents were thorough people of the world. Their religion consisted in occupying a velvet-cushioned pew in a fashionable church on Sunday morning, and doing as they pleased the rest of the day. They made no attempt to teach their son anything more than good manners, taking it quite for granted that the other virtues would spring up of themselves. d.i.c.k was not much to be blamed, therefore, if he had rather hazy views about right and wrong. He had not really an evil nature, but he had a very easy conscience, and the motto by which he shaped his conduct might well have been: "Get your own way. Get it honestly, if you can. But--get it."

Now, this cricket club had taken a great hold upon his fancy, and his whole heart was wrapped up in it. He was captain, of course, and all the other boys obeyed him implicitly. Their docility ministered to his pride, and he showed his appreciation by fairly showering his bounty upon them. There positively seemed no end to his pocket money. All sorts of expenses were indulged in. A fine tent was set up for the boys to put their hats and coats in and sit under when not playing, the ginger-beer man had orders to call round every afternoon and leave a dozen bottles of his refreshing beverage, and more than once the club, instead of playing, adjourned, at d.i.c.k's invitation, to an ice-cream saloon, and had a regular feast of ice-cream. When some indiscreet companion would express his astonishment at the length of d.i.c.k's purse, the latter would answer, carelessly:

"Plenty of funds. Father, and mother, and uncle all give me money.

There's lots more where this came from," jingling a handful of silver as he spoke. So, indeed, there was; but had it any business to be in Master d.i.c.k's pocket?

This delightful state of affairs went on for some weeks, no one enjoying it more than Bert, and then came a revelation that broke upon the boys like a thunder-clap out of a clear sky.

One evening, Mr. Wilding came over to see Mr. Lloyd, looking very grave and troubled. They had a long talk together in Mr. Lloyd's study, and when he went away Mr. Lloyd looked as grave and troubled as his visitor.

After showing Mr. Wilding out, he called his wife into the library, and communicated to her what he had just heard, and it must have been sorrowful news, for Mrs. Lloyd's face bore unmistakable signs of tears, when presently she went out for Bert, who was hard at work upon his lessons in the dining-room.

The moment Bert entered the room he saw that something was the matter.

The faces of his father and mother were very sorrowful, and an indefinable feeling of apprehension took hold of him. He was not long left in uncertainty as to the cause of the trouble.

"Bert," said his father, gravely, "have you seen much of d.i.c.k Wilding lately?"

Bert blushed, and hesitated a moment, and then answered:

"Yes, father; a good deal. He's the captain of our cricket club, you know."

"I did not know until now that you have told me, Bert," said Mr. Lloyd, looking meaningly at him. "You never told me before, did you?"

The colour deepened on Bert's face.

"No, father; I don't think I did," he murmured.

"Had you any reason for saying nothing about him, Bert? Were you afraid we would not let you belong to the club if we knew that d.i.c.k Wilding was its captain?" asked Mr. Lloyd.

Bert made no reply, but his head drooped low upon his breast, and his hands playing nervously with the b.u.t.tons of his coat told the whole story more plainly than words could have done. Mr. Lloyd sighed deeply and looked at his wife as though to say: "There's no doubt about it; our boy has been deceiving us," while Mrs. Lloyd's eyes once more filled with tears, which she turned away to hide.

After a pause, during which Bert seemed to hear the beating of his own heart as distinctly as the ticking of the big clock upon the mantel, Mr.

Lloyd said, in tones that showed deep feeling:

"We would have been sorry enough to find out that our boy had been deceiving us, but what shall we say at finding out that he has been a sharer in pleasures purchased with stolen money?"

Bert looked up in surprise. Stolen money! What could his father mean?