Roger Ingleton, Minor Part 23

"Ah! I forgot about him. Is he a nice sort of chap?"

"He's your worst enemy as well as mine. While he is about the place there's no chance for either of us."

"Thanks--don't bring me into it. Say there's no chance for you. I can take care of myself. And how about mamma?"

"She is at present too ill and distracted by her son's danger to think of anything else. If the boy dies I shall not need to trouble her. If he gets well, I may find it my duty to become his stepfather."

"Charming man, and fortunate mamma! Meanwhile, what are you going to do for me?"

"My dear fellow, you must wait. I can put you up at Maxfield if you behave decently, but as to money, you will spoil all if you are impatient. I am not the only trustee, remember. I have to be careful."

"That's all very well. Sounds beautiful. But do you know, Teddy, I've not quite as much confidence in you as I should like to have. I can't enjoy my holiday without some pocket-money. The big lump might wait, if properly secured. But the interest would be very convenient to me just now. What shall I give you a receipt for?" added he, taking a seat at the table; "a hundred?"

"Don't be a fool, Ratman! I've nothing I can give you just now," said the captain angrily.

Ratman put down his pen, and whistled a stave, drubbing his fingers on the table. Then he took the pen again.

"A hundred, eh?" he repeated.

The captain ground his teeth in impotent fury.

"No. Fifty."

"Thanks very much. I'll make it seventy-five, if you don't mind."

Captain Oliphant, with black countenance, slowly counted the notes out onto the table, while his friend with many flourishes wrote out the receipt. Before signing it he counted the money.

"Quite right, perfectly right. Thanks very much, Teddy. Now let us go out and see the sights. You forget it's years since I was in town."

"Tell me first," said the captain, going to the window, was turning his back, "about that--you know--that affair in--"

"About your robbing the mess-funds?" supplied his friend cheerfully.

"Certainly, my dear boy. Quite a simple matter. Shortly after you left, Deputy-a.s.sistant something or other came with a long face. 'This is a bad job,' says he; 'your friend Oliphant's left the accounts in an awful mess. Doesn't look well at all. Where is he?' 'Nonsense, my dear Deputy-a.s.sistant,' says I; 'must be a mistake. Oliphant's a man of his word. Besides, he's just come into a fortune. Bound to be right if you look into it.' 'Will you make it good if it's wrong?' asks he.

'Don't mind if I do,' says I, 'within reason. He's a young family.'

'Only way of hushing it up. Either that or bringing him back between a file of soldiers.' 'You don't mean that?' says I. 'What's the figure?'

'750,' says he."

"Liar!" growled the captain, wheeling round. "It wasn't half that."

"They're bound to make something out of it--always happens. Well, as you'd told me you'd got the pickings of a cool half million, I felt I couldn't go wrong in covering you. So I came down with five hundred of needful. Got them to promise to let the rest stand till I had done myself the pleasure of a run over here just to remind you that they have you on their mind. You've disappointed me, Teddy, my boy, but I won't desert you. Don't say you've no friends. I'll stick by you, I rather fancy."

The captain was probably able to form a pretty clear estimate how much of this glib story was fact and how much fiction.

Whatever the proportion may have been, he had to acknowledge that this friend of his held him in an uncomfortable grip, and had better--for the present at least--be conciliated.

So the two went out arm in arm for a stroll--the first of many they took during their fortnight's sojourn in town.

The news from Maxfield became unpleasingly damping. Here, for instance, is a letter the doting father received from his son and heir a week after Ratman's arrival.

"Dear Pater,--Isn't it fizzing that old Roger is pretty nearly out of the wood? The fever's come down like anything, and he's getting quite chirpy. I can't fancy how a chap can hang on at all with nothing to eat but milk. It wouldn't fill up my c.h.i.n.ks. If ever I get a fever, keep me going on beefsteak and mashed potatoes. It's been a great lark having no lessons. Armstrong's forgotten my existence, I think. He and Rosalind have regular rows about sitting up with him--I mean Roger, and Rosalind generally has to cave in. It does her good to cave in now and then. Armstrong's the only one can make her. I can't; nor can Brandram. Brandram's a stunner. I drive him in and out of Yeld every day, and he's up to no end of larks. And now Roger's pulling round, he's as festive as an owl. Jill's in jolly dumps because she's out of it all. Rosalind sits on her and tells her she's too much of a kid to be any good; and she doesn't get much change out of Armstrong. So she has to knock about with me all day, which is awful slow. I say, go and see Christy's Minstrels when you're in town, and get them to let Jockabilly do the break-down. It will make you split. If that French chap is hanging about, tip him a bob for me and be civil to him, because he was decent enough to me. Auntie Eva said something about your bringing a gentleman home with you. I hope he's a jolly sort of chap.

Rosalind's temper is all anyhow. When I told her a visitor was coming, she shut me up with a regular flea in my ear. Never mind, she's been a brick to old Roger and Auntie Eva, so we must make allowances. Old Hodder calls up nearly every day to ask after us all. He's grown quite young since he was left alone in his cottage, and Armstrong came down like a sack of coals on that beast Pottinger. My dear father, if you would like to know what I most hope you'll bring home for me, it's a football--Rugby--for the coming winter. Armstrong's promised to coach me in the drop kick. Can you do it? I shall be glad to see you home, as I'm jolly low in pocket-money, besides the affection one feels for those who are absent. Jill joins in love.

"Your affectionate 'Tom.'

"_P.S_.--Auntie Eva is not nearly so down on her luck now that Roger's taken his turn. If he's well enough she's going to have a little kick- up on his birthday, which will be rare larks."

"A letter!" inquired Ratman, who had watched the not altogether delighted expression on his friend's face as he read it. "Good news?

May I read it?"

"If you like," said the captain, tossing it across the table.

Ratman, who evidently had a better appreciation of juvenile vagaries than the father, read it with an amused smile on his face.

"Nice boy that," said he; "he and I will be friends."

"Remember," said the captain, "our bargain. Do and say what you like with me, but before my children--"

"Don't be afraid, Teddy, my boy. Depend on me for doing the high moral business. The innocent babes shall never guess that you owe me three years' pay, and that I could walk you off to the next police station for a sharper. It's amusing when you come to think of it, isn't it? But, I say, it looks as if you'll have to trouble mamma after all. The boy's getting well in spite of his nurses. I'm really impatient to see the happy family. When shall we go?"

"Next week. We must be decent, and wait till he's better now."

"Oh, all right. If we can't go to the funeral we'll go to the birthday party, eh? It's all one to me, Teddy, as long as you don't make a fool of me in the long run."

"You wait, and it'll be all right," said the captain, with a trace in his voice of something like desperation.

At the end of the following week these two nice gentlemen presented themselves at Maxfield. Captain Oliphant had written for the brougham to meet them, and as Tom and Jill were in it, Mr Ratman was spared the embarra.s.sment of meeting the whole household at one time. Before the house was reached he had impressed Tom with the conviction that there was a considerable possibility of "larks" in his father's visitor. But Jill, who had acquired the habit of contrasting every gentleman she saw with her dear Mr Armstrong, was obdurate to his fascinations.

"I don't want to talk to you," said she shortly, when for the twentieth time he renewed his friendly overtures. "I don't like you, and hope you're not going to stay long."

Ratman took his rebuff as complacently as he could; and Jill, having exhausted her conversation with this outburst, put her hand apologetically into her father's, and remained silent the rest of the drive.

At Maxfield, the visitor, who appeared to experience no difficulty in making himself at home, received a polite welcome from the widow, whose style he generally approved, and considered a good deal better than his gallant comrade deserved. Then, as none of the rest of the household put in an appearance, he retired serenely to his comfortable apartment to dress for dinner.

Captain Oliphant's first anxiety was naturally for his dear young ward.

He found him sitting up in an arm-chair, with Rosalind reading Shakespeare to him.

"Hullo, guardian!" said he, "you see the place hasn't got rid of me yet--thanks to my kind nurse here."

"I am indeed thankful, my dear boy, for your recovery. And how is my Rosalind?"

She came and kissed him.

"Very well, dear father. But Roger has to keep very quiet still, so you must only stay a minute or two, or I shall get into disgrace with the doctor. He has been so good. Have you seen cousin Eva?"

"Yes, my child. But come with me; I want to introduce you to Mr Ratman."

She looked inclined to rebel, but after a moment closed her book, and, having smoothed the invalid's cushions, followed her father from the room.