The Hero of Garside School Part 16

The dormitory, to which he had looked forward with still greater pleasure, had proved a delusion and a snare. Often, in the bitterness of his experience in the dormitory, had he wished himself back in his warm and comfortable bed at home. He did not see--did not understand that the trials upon which he was entering were just those which were moulding him for the future. They were to test and try him, as they had tested and tried many others before him.

Some of you who read this may be going through the same experience as Harry Moncrief. Remember, rough as the experience may be, it goes to make the man in you, and it depends upon you whether you come from these trials dross or pure gold.

By the side of the shed where Harry was standing there was a window, thick with dust. Harry tried to look through the window, but, failing in this, his forefinger went idly to work on the dust. Bit by bit he traced out a face and head, almost without knowing it, for he had been thinking of the meeting that was to take place in the shed rather than of his sketch.

"My, it isn't at all bad!" he cried, standing back a pace and admiring his handiwork when he had finished it. "If I'd really tried, I couldn't have done it so well. Perhaps the nose doesn't stick up enough, but it's got the right cut about it."

Harry was about to rub out the sketch, when he paused, as though reluctant to rub out such a masterpiece.

"'Pon my word, it's rather good! I wonder if anybody would know who it's meant for? I don't suppose anybody will. I've a jolly good mind to leave it!"

He p.r.o.nounced the last words with emphasis, turned on his heels, and walked away.

Now it so happened that after Plunger and his companions had enjoyed their laugh at the expense of Harry, their attention went back again to the one absorbing topic of conversation--the meeting of the Fifth.

"Shouldn't I like to be there!" said Plunger, his curiosity growing as the time for the meeting advanced. "I would like to know what's in the wind! Is it about the Black Book, I wonder?"

"What's that to do with the Fifth any more than the rest of us?"

remarked Sedgeley.

"Oh, the Fifth always put a lot of side on, and like to c.o.c.k it over us!" retorted Plunger.

"You'll be just the same, Freddy, when you're sent up--if ever you are sent up," remarked Baldry. "Sour grapes!"

"Shut up, Baldhead!" retorted Plunger hotly. "I never want to get amongst the Fifth bounders. It's that keeps me back. I could have got up in the Fourth at last exam., only I said to myself: 'No; it takes me one form nearer the Fifth bounders.'" He paused for a moment, then added: "All the same, I would like to know what they're going to gas about in the Forum. P'r'aps it's about us--p'r'aps they mean sitting on us a lot more than they do now."

"P'r'aps!" repeated Sedgeley and Baldry reflectively.

"I--I've a good mind to try. Why should the Fifth have it all to themselves? If--if I could only steal a march on them!"

"If you only could, Freddy!" remarked Sedgeley encouragingly.

For the next few minutes there was some whispering together, and the end of it was that Plunger and his companions strolled in the same direction as that Harry Moncrief had strolled in a quarter of an hour or so before.

On arriving at the shed, they reconnoitred around it, uncertain as to whether or not anybody was within.

Sedgeley happened by chance to look through--or tried to look through--the window on which Harry had left a specimen of his handiwork.

His attention was at once arrested. He regarded the face seriously for a moment; then he broke into a shout of laughter.

"What are you playing the silly goat for?" demanded Plunger wrathfully from somewhere in the rear of the shed.

"Come here, Baldry, Bember, Viner!" exclaimed Sedgeley, vainly endeavouring to stifle his laughter.

The three came hurrying up, followed by Plunger, in a violent state of agitation.

"You'll spoil all, you braying a.s.s, you laughing hyena, you giddy----"

Then he paused, as Baldry, Bember, and Viner, after a glance at the pane, burst into laughter also. "What is it, you laughing lunatics--what----"

Plunger said no more. His jaw dropped, as, following their gaze, he gazed in turn on the window-pane.

"Jolly good likeness, isn't it, Baldry?" Sedgeley at length managed to remark.

"My!" cried Baldry, with his hand on his side, as though he'd got a st.i.tch in it. "Hold me up!"

"I--I don't see what there's to laugh at," Plunger at length remarked, with a face as red as a turkey-c.o.c.k's.

"What, don't you see it, Freddy?"

"See what?"

"The likeness--oh, my side! Don't you know that nose--that hair. I should know 'em anywhere."

Now, Plunger had a very characteristic nose--it was a combative nose, and a decided pug. So was the nose on the window-pane. Plunger's hair, too, was peculiar to Plunger. It was wiry, stubborn hair, with a tuft in front which resembled the comb of a turkey-c.o.c.k. The same peculiarity was seen in the head on the window. And Plunger's eyebrows had a way of mounting to his head, as though they were anxious to get on terms of friendship with the tuft above. The same eccentricity was noticeable in the eyebrows on the window-pane.

"No. I don't know 'em--not a bit. Who do you say they're meant for?"

came in jerks from Plunger.

"Who--who? Oh, dear, oh, dear! Why, they're meant for you, Freddy! It's awfully funny, isn't it? I didn't know that your face was so comical!"

Plunger shrugged his shoulders, and affected indifference. He wasn't a bit like that caricature. It was only Sedgeley pretended to see the likeness, and made the other fellows see it with his eyes. At the same time he put out his hand to rub out the sketch. Sedgeley stopped him.

"If it isn't meant for you, Freddy, we may as well see who it is meant for."

"Just as you like," answered Plunger, in his most indifferent tone.

Having a.s.sured themselves that there was no one inside, three of the conspirators--Sedgeley, Baldry, and Plunger--entered the shed. A quarter of an hour elapsed, then the door opened; but, instead of the three figures that entered, only two came out--Sedgeley and Baldry. All was silent within. Plunger had disappeared as completely as though he had dropped through the earth.

"All serene?" queried Bember, as the two made their appearance.

"All serene!" came the answer.

At seven o'clock the Fifth Form began to put in an appearance at the shed. Arbery and Leveson were two of the first. They lit a candle, and stuck it in a tin candle-stick. Then they rolled out one of the boxes that were piled up at the back, placed it lengthwise, so as to form a rostrum, and covered it with a baize cloth. On the top of this they placed a wooden mallet, used for knocking in the stumps in the cricketing season.

"Sounds all right," said Leveson, giving the mallet a flourish over his head, and bringing it down sharply on top of the box. "Order--order for the chair!"

Down it came a second time.

"Friends, Romans, and Countrymen----"

"Drop the cackle, Levy," shouted Arbery, "and give me a hand."

He was pulling out some of the boxes, and Leveson lent him a hand to arrange them as seats. It so happened that in one of the most dilapidated of these boxes, which had rested for weeks in the darkest corner of the shed, Frederick Plunger, Esq. was reposing. It had been selected as the most suitable hiding-place by the conspirators. It was large and commodious, and there were so many cracks and crannies in the worm-eaten, dilapidated lid that there was ample breathing s.p.a.ce within.

In this safe hiding-place Plunger had flattered himself that he would be able to know all that pa.s.sed at the meeting of the Fifth. He had not calculated on the box being shifted from its dusty, cob-webbed corner.