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"Run off, youngster. Leave me," cried Stanley hoa.r.s.ely.
Harry ran out, wondering at the effect his information had had upon his cousin.
"Shook hands with him!" echoed Stanley, as he sank with a groan upon the bed.
CHAPTER XXI
THE CHASM WIDENS
Unintentionally Harry Moncrief had made deeper the chasm between the one-time friends. It was quite evident to Stanley, from Harry's description of what he had witnessed, that there was an understanding between Paul and Wyndham, otherwise they would never have shaken hands with each other. The fact that Paul could take the hand of one who had thrashed him set the blood tingling in Stanley's veins. That showed plainly enough that Paul was on friendly terms with his enemy--with an enemy of the school. What was to be done?
Stanley got up and paced the room. The softer feelings that had been working in his breast vanished.
"I will never speak to Paul Percival again--never!" he said fiercely.
"Perhaps the whole of that business at the sand-pit was a trap of his into which I was fool enough to fall. How else could they have shaken hands together?"
It seemed to him, thus blinded by suspicion against his friend, that it could only have one meaning--they were gloating over his defeat.
Meanwhile, Harry Moncrief had no sooner descended the stairs leading from the dormitories than he came sharply into contact with Plunger, who was hurrying along the corridor as though he were rushing full speed up a cricket pitch to prevent himself from being run out.
"Hallo, Harry, just the fellow I was looking for!" he exclaimed.
"Are you, Freddy? Then I wish you'd look for me with your eyes instead of your elbows," answered Harry, rubbing his ribs, which were aching from the blow they had just received from the boniest part of Plunger's elbows. "What is it?"
"You know that twaddle in the _Gargoyle Record_ about the poet being stuck for a rhyme to 'hunger'?"
"Yes," laughed Harry, as he recalled Plunger's confusion when the paragraph was read aloud in the common room.
"What are you grinning at? You don't mean to say you saw anything funny in it?"
"Oh, no; but you're bound to laugh when the other fellows laugh, you know. It's like the measles--catching. I'm all right now. Go on. You were saying----"
"I believe that paragraph was sent in to the editor--d.i.c.k Jessel, you know--by Baldry."
"Oh! What makes you think that?"
"He's been worrying about rhymes ever since that paragraph was read out--that's why. You see, he sent in the paragraph so that he might have another shot at me with the answer. Baldry's a deep 'un."
"But why should he send in paragraphs to the _Record_ against you?"
"Well, I make fun of his name, so he's trying to score off me in return.
But he can't do it, for 'Plunger's' no sort of rhyme to 'hunger.' And there's another thing I've got to tell you in confidence, Harry. I believe that cartoon of me on the Forum window was Baldry's work."
"Oh!" answered Harry drily. "What makes you think that?"
"Baldry once said that if the glue business failed"--Plunger's father was a glue and size merchant in a large way of business--"I could always pick up my living as an artist's model."
"How?"
"Well, he had the cheek to tell me I had a funny sort of face. And Baldry's smart with the pencil, you know; so, putting this and that together, I believe Master Baldry not only sent in that paragraph to the _Record_, but put my face on the Forum window."
"Very wrong of him, Freddy," said Harry sympathetically. "What are you going to do with him?"
"Well, I've got a lovely old basket, once the property of a dear and highly-respected friend of yours, Mrs. Trounce, and this basket is filled with a lovely collection of feathers. Along with these feathers will be mixed a little glutinous substance, as the chemistry master calls it, which I brought last term from the pater's works. This basket will be fixed directly over the Forum door, by means of a string, the end of which will be held by some one hidden in a tree at the back of the Forum. That some one in the tree will be you. Are you listening?"
"Ra-ther. That some one in the tree will be me. Go on."
"My dearly beloved and much respected chum, Sammy Baldry, will receive a message calling him to the Forum at half-past six. Someone will be at the side of the Forum, so as to know the exact moment Baldry appears on the scene. Directly he nears the door that some one will whistle. That will be a signal to you up in the tree. Baldhead will open the door.
Then you'll pull the string. Over will go the basket, and down will come the pretty feathers over Baldhead. In the information Baldry was good enough to supply to the _Gargoyle Record_, affectionate inquiries were made, you remember, after the Missing Link, last seen in all his native beauty in the Forum. What price for Baldry, eh? When he gets these feathers on him he'll be a puzzle. No one will be able to tell which kingdom he belongs to--animal, vegetable, or mineral."
And Plunger chuckled so that it seemed as though he would never be able to stop himself. Just to keep him company, Harry chuckled too.
"Splendid little joke, isn't it, Harry?"
"Splendid."
"I told you what fun you'd have when you got to Garside. Better than Gaffer Quelch's, eh? Things were awfully slow there, weren't they, Harry?"
"Awfully."
But, so far as fun was concerned, Harry couldn't see that he had had very much of it, except at his own expense. Plunger had, in fact, made him his b.u.t.t, and now he wished to score off Baldry through his instrumentality.
"I didn't quite understand you, Freddy," said Harry presently, as Plunger went on chuckling. "Who do you say was to be up in the tree at the back of the Forum and pull the string?"
"You, Harry. I'm giving you the post of honour, because you deserve it.
Baldry has poked fun at you a lot. Now it's your turn, old fellow."
"It's very kind of you, Freddy--it really is. I don't know how to be grateful enough. I'm to be in the tree, you say: but where will you be?"
"Oh, I'll do the whistling."
"The whistling?"
"Yes, to let you know up in the tree when Baldry comes along. Then, directly Baldry opens the door, you pull the string, and--there you are.
Baldry in full plumage. It's all clear enough, isn't it?"
"All clear enough;--but----"
"But what? You're not going to cry off, are you?"
"I'm not going to cry off; but suppose we change places."
"How do you mean?"