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"Well played, Caruthers; jolly good knock."
"Well done, Caruthers!"
Lovelace and Mansell banged excitedly into Gordon's study the evening after the Colts match _v._ Murchester. Gordon had made thirty-seven on a wet wicket, and a defeat by over a hundred runs was no fault of his. He had gone in first wicket down, and stayed till the close.
"It was splendid! You ought to be a cert. for your Colts' cap. 'The Bull' was fearfully bucked."
"Oh, I don't know; it was not so very much." In his heart of hearts Gordon was pretty certain he would get his cap; but it would never do to show what he thought.
"Oh, rot, my good man," burst out Lovelace. "You didn't give a chance after the first over. And, by Jove, that was a bit of luck then."
"Yes, you know, I have a good deal of luck one way and another. I haven't got in a single row yet; and I am always being missed."
"And some fellows have no luck at all. Now Foster was batting beautifully before he was run out; never saw such a scandalous mix-up.
All the other man's fault. He bowled well, too. I shouldn't be a bit surprised if he didn't get his Colts' cap. I know 'the Bull' likes him."
"Do you think so?" said Gordon. He did not know why, but he rather hoped Foster would not get his cap. He himself would be captain of A-K Junior next year. It would be better if he was obviously senior to Foster. He was going to be the match-winning factor; and, so far as seniority goes, there is not much to choose between men who get their colours on the same day.
"Of course he won't if you don't," Mansell said, "but I think he's worth it. I say, let's have a feed to-night. There's just time before hall to order some stuff. Lovelace, rush off to the tuck-shop, and put it down to my account."
Gordon found it impossible to work during hall; he fidgeted nervously.
He felt as he had felt on the last day of his first term before prize-giving. He knew if he was going to get his Colts' cap he would get it early that night. Stewart always gave colours during first hall. He sat and waited nervously; work became quite impossible. He looked through _The Daily Telegraph_ and flung it aside; then picked up _The London Mail_; that was rather more in his line.
There was a sound of talking down the pa.s.sage. He heard Clarke's voice saying:
"Yes, down there, third study down, No. 16."
A second later there was a knock on the door. He managed to gulp out: "Come in."
"Gratters on your Colts' cap, Caruthers. Well played!"
Stewart shook hands with him. The next minute Gordon heard him walking to the school notice-board in the cloister. He was pinning up the notice.
Gordon sat quite still; his happiness was too great....
No one is allowed to walk about in the studies before eight dining-hall.
For a quarter of an hour there was silence in the pa.s.sage.
Eight struck; there was an opening of doors.
A few minutes later Hunter dashed in.
"Well done, Caruthers. Hooray!"
"Well done, Caruthers!" "Good old A-K!" "I am so glad!" Everyone seemed pleased.
Just before prayers, as he sat at the top of the day-room table, FitzMorris came over to him. "Jolly good, Caruthers. Well done." His cup was full.
Foster did not get his cap....
The next day as Gordon was walking across the courts in break "the Bull"
came up to him.
"Gratters, Caruthers; wasn't your fault you lost. I like a man who can fight uphill. You have got the grit--well done, lad."
"And yet," said Gordon to Mansell, as they pa.s.sed under the school gate, "you say that man cares only for his house. Why, he only loves his house because it's a part of Fernhurst; and Fernhurst is the pa.s.sion of his life!"
CHAPTER VII: WHEN ONE IS IN ROME ...
Generalisations are always apt to be misleading, but there was surely no truer one ever spoken than the old proverb: "When one is in Rome, one does as Rome does!" Parsons and G.o.dmothers will, of course, protest that, if you found yourselves among a crowd of robbers and drunkards, you would not copy _them_! And yet it is precisely what the average individual would do. When a boy leaves his preparatory school he has a conscience; he would not tell lies; he would be scrupulously honest in form; he would not borrow things he never meant to return; he would say nothing he would be ashamed of his mother or sister overhearing.
But before this same innocent has been at school two terms he has learnt that everything except money is public property. The name in a book or on a hockey stick means nothing. Someone once said to Collins:
"I say, I want to write here, are those your books?"
"No, they are the books I use," was the laconic answer.
The code of a Public School boy's honour is very elastic. Masters are regarded as common enemies; and it is never necessary to tell them the truth. Expediency is the golden rule in all relations with the common room. And after a very few weeks even Congreve would have had to own that the timid new boy could spin quite as broad a yarn as he. The parents do not realise this. It is just as well. It is a stage in the development of youth. Everyone must pa.s.s through it. Yet sometimes it leads to quite a lot of misunderstanding.
There were one or two incidents during this summer term that stood out very clearly in Gordon's memory as proofs of the way masters may fail to realise the boy's point of view.
One morning just after breakfast Gordon discovered that he had done the wrong maths for Jenks. He rushed in search of Fletcher.
"I say, Archie, look here, be a sport. I have done the wrong stuff for that a.s.s Jenks. Let's have a look at yours."
In ten minutes four tremendous howlers in as many sums had been reproduced on Gordon's paper. The work was collected that morning, and nothing more was heard of it till the next day. Gordon thought himself quite safe and had ceased to take any interest in the matter. The form was working out some riders more or less quietly. Suddenly Jenks's tired voice murmured:
"Caruthers, did you copy your algebra off Fletcher?"
"No, sir."
Jenks was rather fond of asking such leading questions.
Caruthers had got tired of it. The man was a fool; he must know by this time that he was bound to get the same answer.
"Fletcher, did you copy off Caruthers?"
"No, sir."
"Caruthers, did you see Fletcher's paper?"
"No, sir."
How insistent the a.s.s was getting.