Follow My leader Part 25

"That would be less dusty," said Heathcote; "but--"

"Look here," said d.i.c.k eagerly, as he and his friend stood side by side on the spring-board ready for a plunge, "what howling a.s.ses we are! Of course all the fellows will go on the top of the omnibuses, so if we cut round to the stables directly after breakfast, we can stow ourselves away inside one, under the seat, and then we shall have it all to ourselves."

"All right," said Heathcote, looking at last as if he saw his way to the venture.

And the two friends forthwith dived, and turned the plan over beneath the waves.

When, punctually at ten o'clock, the six coaches paraded in the great Quadrangle, no one noticed the absence of d.i.c.k and his henchman in the crowd that a.s.sembled to watch the departure of the lucky seventy. Nor when coach one had started with the Eleven, and coaches two, three, and four had carried off the rest of the Sixth and Fifth, did any one suspect that coach five had taken up two of its pa.s.sengers already.

The Upper and Middle Fourth, who boarded this vehicle, had little idea, as they pitched their coats and wraps inside and mounted themselves to the top, that, like the birds who buried the babes in the wood beneath the leaves, they were hiding the light of day from two innocents who lay one under either seat, with their noses to the fresh air and their hearts very decidedly in their mouths.

"Chock full up here," cried a voice from the top, which d.i.c.k, even in his retirement, recognised as belonging to Duffield, the post f.a.g, who, by virtue of his office, was just out of the Den; "you kids will have to go inside."

"Oh, I say, you might let us up," replied one of the "kids" in question, in tones of expostulation; "we won't take up much room. It's so jolly stuffy inside."

"So it is," inwardly e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the two stowaways.

"Just the place for you. You can play oughts-and-crosses and enjoy yourselves. There's not standing room up here," cried Duffield.

"Can't we stand on the step?"

"No; Hooker's bagged the bottom step, and I've bagged the one half up this side as soon as we start."

The lurkers gasped. They had not reckoned on the steps being occupied and their snug retreat raked by the eyes of the b.u.mptious Hooker.

"Can we stand on them till you're ready, I say?" once more asked the persevering Fourth-formers.

"Why can't you go inside? I say, though," added the post f.a.g, "there's room for two on the next coach. Hop up, or you'll be out of it!"

To the relief of our heroes, the youngsters yapped off on the new scent; and they presently had the satisfaction of hearing their voices raised in a halloo of triumph from the box of coach six.

"All right!" cried a master, as the last man squeezed up to his perch.

Then arose great cheers and counter-cheers, not unmixed with yells, as the cavalcade drove off in style, followed by Templeton in full cry as far as the great gate, where they parted company, amid shouts that brought all the town to its windows.

Once clear of the school, our heroes breathed more freely in more senses than one. As long as Hooker kept guard of the lower step, and Duffield's legs swayed about on the other, they were unable to do more than quietly push back the coats and put their heads out. But both these amateur conductors were too much occupied in hailing pa.s.sers-by and protecting their caps from the a.s.saults of their own friends above to bestow much attention to the inside of a coat-strewn, stuffy vehicle; and in time our heroes found they might venture to whisper across the floor and attempt in a quiet way to make themselves more comfortable; "Beastly dusty," said Heathcote; "it gets in my mouth."

"Wouldn't mind that," said d.i.c.k, "if I didn't get pins-and-needles in my arms. I've a good mind to turn over."

Here they were sent back like rabbits to their holes by the scare of a free fight taking place on the lower step between Hooker and a town youth, whom he had aggrieved by discharging a broadside of peas on a tender portion of his visage.

The fight was a sharp one, for the burly town youth was a "tartar," and had more than one grudge to settle with the Templeton boys. He managed to get a footing on the step, and hooking one elbow securely over the door, worked his other arm with great effect on the unfortunate Hooker.

The whole fray was so suddenly got up that those on the roof knew nothing about it, and Duffield was so occupied with kicking at the intruder with his one spare leg that he quite forgot to raise a war cry.

The town boy proved equal to his two antagonists. Duffield was early rendered _hors de combat_ by his spare foot being captured and tucked under the arm by which the enemy hung on to the door. And Hooker himself was gradually getting ousted from his perch, and might have been finally dropped on to the road, had not an unexpected diversion in his favour rescued him.

This was made by no one less than d.i.c.k, who, having taken in with a quick eye the position of affairs, saw that Templeton demanded his services, cost him what they might. He, therefore, summoned Heathcote to back him up, and taking an overcoat from the pile, cast it adroitly over the head of the town boy just as he had edged Hooker on to the very margin of the step. This, of course, settled the business. Duffield got back his foot, and Hooker got his arm once more over the door. The former raised a cry of "Cad hanging on!" The latter shouted, "Whip behind!" The occupants of coach six yelled, "Chuck him over!" And putting one thing with another, the town boy decided that he would be more comfortable on the pavement than where he was. So he dropped off, leaving his hat behind him, which trophy was immediately seized and pa.s.sed aloft, amid universal triumph, and displayed proudly on the top of a bat, on coach five, until the cavalcade was clear of the town.

"Who scragged that fellow?" asked Hooker, as soon as the campaign was over, looking up and down.

"I don't know," said Duffield. "Is there any one inside?"

d.i.c.k, who had been gradually trying to edge back to his retreat, deemed it prudent to make a clean breast of it at once, while the two "step"

men owed him their thanks.

"I say, Hooker," said he, putting up his head behind the pile of wraps in a manner that made the gentleman addressed almost fall off with fright, "don't say anything--I scragged him. Heathcote and I wanted so awfully to see the match. Keep it dark, I say."

Hooker put his head into the window, and whistled.

"You'll get in a frightful row," said he, consolingly; "never mind, I'll say nothing. Cover up, and don't let the chaps see you."

They took his advice as cheerfully as they could, and even endured pleasantly the occasional pea-shooter practice with which, by way of enlivening their solitude, he was good enough to favour them.

They had an anxious drive on the whole. For besides Hooker's pea- shooter and the dismal prophecies he kept calling in to them of the terrible fate that awaited them on their return to Templeton, they found the dust and heat very trying. All that, however, was as nothing to the panic produced by a sudden rumour of a shower, and the possible descent of the whole of coach five into the interior. Happily for them Jupiter Pluvius changed his mind at the last moment, and sheered off. But the two minutes they spent in expecting him were calculated considerably to curtail the natural life of both.

It was hard lines, too, to hear all the festivities going on above and be able to take no part in them. They dared not even sit up for fear of becoming visible to the occupants of the box-seat of coach six, who had a full view of their interior. So they lay low for two mortal hours, and by the time Grandcourt was reached discovered that their dusty heads and limbs ached not a little.

"You'd better come out and cheek it," said Hooker, as the coach pulled up; "you're bound to get into a row, so you may as well enjoy yourselves."

d.i.c.k's intention had been to get taken on under the seat to the stables, and there make his escape. But after all there was not much less risk that way than in following Hooker's advice. So they tumbled out with the crowd, and kept near Hooker, on whose support they felt ent.i.tled to rely, after the service rendered to him in the battle of the lower step.

Every one was so excited about the match, and so anxious to show off well to the Grandcourt boys, that no one took any notice of the two small interlopers, which was a matter of great thankfulness to our heroes.

Their spirits gradually rose as they found themselves sitting comfortably among a knot of Templetonians, in the glorious Grandcourt meadow, with a superb view of the match. They lost all their reserve, and joined wildly in the cheers for the old school, heedless of every consideration of prudence and self-preservation.

And they certainly had some excuse for their enthusiasm. For Templeton walked away from her enemy from the very first, in a style which amazed even her most ardent admirers.

In their first innings they put together 215 as smartly and merrily as if they were playing against an eleven of the Den. One after another the Grandcourt bowlers collapsed. No sort of ball seemed to find its way past the Templeton bats, and no sort of fielding seemed to hem in their mighty hits.

Pontifex--"dear old Ponty," as everybody called him to-day--who had been breaking his friends' hearts by his indolence and indifference all the term, stood up now, and punished the Grandcourt bowling, till the enemy almost yelled with dismay. The steady Mansfield was never steadier, nor Cartwright more dashing, nor Pledge more artful. Even Birket, who to- day fleshed his maiden bat on the Grandcourt meadow, knocked up his two and threes, with one cut for four into the tent, till it seemed to Templeton that cricket was in the air, and that even Hooker and Duffield could have pulled the match off single-handed.

But the batting was nothing to the play when Templeton was out and took the offensive. Pledge was more than dangerous, he was deadly, and knocked the b.a.l.l.s about in a manner quite "skeery." Heathcote was perfectly sure he could have made as good a stand as the Grandcourt captain, and began to lay down the law to his hearers as to how this man should have taken one ball and that man "drawn" another, till he became quite amusing, and was recognised for the first time by several of his schoolfellows.

However, the general interest in the match was still too keen to give him the notoriety his indiscretion deserved; and lulled by his apparent immunity and the luxury of his present circ.u.mstances, he, like d.i.c.k, quite forgot he had no right to be where he was, and even expostulated with Duffield for squashing him and interfering with his view.

Grandcourt went out for a miserable 80; of which 30 had been put on by one man. Of course they had to follow on, and as the time was short, it was agreed to curtail the usual interval, and finish up the match straight away.

So Grandcourt went in again, and although it fared somewhat better, was still unable to stem the tide of defeat. With 135 to get in order to avoid a single innings defeat, it was only natural they did not settle down to their task very cheerfully or hopefully. Pledge still sent down a ruthless fire from one end; and seemed even to improve with exercise.

Nor was he badly backed up at the other end by Cresswell; while Mansfield, at the wicket, and Ponty, at point, seemed, as it were, to help themselves to the ball off the end of the bat, whenever they liked.

By painful, plodding hard work, Grandcourt put up their hundred, and it spoke well for the chivalry of the victorious seventy, that they cheered the three figures as loudly as any one.

It was uphill work trying to hold out for the remaining 35 runs. But the losers were Englishmen, and long odds brought out their good qualities. With solemn, almost ferocious, faces, the two last men in clung to their bats, and blocked, blocked, blocked, stealing now a bye, pilfering now a run out of the slips, and once or twice getting on the right side of a lob with a swipe that drew the hearts of Templeton into their mouths.

A score of runs did those two add on to their hundred, and the seventy groaned as the chances of a single innings victory dwindled run by run.

"Most frightful soak if they do us," said d.i.c.k, addressing the audience generally. "Why don't they try Mansfield?"

"Shut up. Lie down under the seat, and don't talk to me," said Hooker, flushed with excitement.