The Triple Alliance Part 21

At length, just as the telegraph operator had received the welcome order, "A hundred up!" the ball shot, and crashed into Thurston's wicket. He came slowly back from the pitch, still holding his hand to the back of his head; and though his individual score had barely run into double figures, he was greeted on all sides with hearty cheers.

Payne, the last man, just succeeded in cracking his _duck's-egg_, and the innings closed for 104.

As the fielders came trooping in, a small boy ran past the Third Form encampment exclaiming, "I say, you chaps, old Punch is in the lower road, over by that tree!" Which announcement had no sooner been made than the greater part of "The Happy Family" sprang to their feet, and went scampering across the field in the direction of the opposite hedge.

The cause of this stampede, it must be explained, was the arrival of an itinerant vendor of ice-cream, whose real name, Samuel Jones, had been changed to Punch on account of the prominence of his nasal organ.

His presence within the grounds of Ronleigh College was not approved of by the authorities, and his trade with the small boys, who were his particular patrons, was carried on through a gap in the hedge.

Punch's establishment ran on four wheels, and was ornamented with a number of daubs representing Union Jacks and Royal Standards, which formed the framework of an alarming portrait of the Prince of Wales, from which adornment one might be led to suppose that on some previous occasion His Royal Highness had patronized the stall. The ice-cream was shovelled out of a tin receptacle, and pasted in lumps on to the top of very shallow gla.s.ses, the standard price for which was one penny; and there being a scarcity of spoons, the customers usually devoured the delicacy in the same manner as a dog does a saucer of milk. Cynical members of the upper cla.s.ses at Ronleigh, who had ceased to patronize the stall, charged Punch with not being over-particular in washing the gla.s.ses, and of making the "stuff," as they called it, with cornflour instead of cream. But the small boys were not fastidious; and as each one had two helpings, which they ate as slowly as possible to prolong the enjoyment, they were still refreshing themselves when the home team moved out to field.

"Look sharp!" cried "Rats," giving Bibbs's elbow a sudden jerk which caused that worthy to plaster the end of his nose with the remains of his third ice. "Come on! let's see the beginning."

The second half of the game proved, if anything, more exciting than the first. Two wickets fell before 10 appeared on the telegraph.

"Oh, we shall lick them easily!" cried "Rats" jubilantly; while Fletcher junior gave vent to his feelings by handing Bibbs's bag of sweets round to the company.

But there were still some hard nuts to be cracked in the Wraxby team, and one soon appeared in Partridge, the captain. Over after over went by, and the score rapidly increased: "Thirty up!"--"Forty up!"--"Fifty up!" Two more wickets were taken; but Partridge seemed to have fairly got his eye in, and gave the home team as much leather-hunting as Oaks had provided for the visitors. To make matters worse, Austin, arriving on the scene sixth man in, appeared to be also possessed with a determination to carry his bat; and though he was eventually run out by a sharp throw-in from square-leg, it was not until eighty runs had been registered for the Grammar School.

The closing scene of the game caused an amount of excitement unparalleled in the history of Ronleigh cricket.

As the last man of the Wraxby team went in to bat, the telegraph was changed from 90 to 100. "Over" had just been called, and the invincible Partridge stepped forward to play, evidently making up his mind for another boundary hit. Thurston had been put on to bowl at the top end, and stood ready to recommence the attack.

"Four to equal, five to beat," sighed "Rats." "Bother it all, they're sure to win."

A cricket match needs to be very narrowly watched, or the spectator whose eye has strayed for a moment from the game misses some fine piece of play. The incident which finished the contest between Ronleigh College and Wraxby Grammar School occupied barely three seconds of time; yet it was remembered and spoken about many years after those concerned in it had pa.s.sed on to swell the ranks of the "old boys."

Partridge commenced the over with a hard, straight drive, and at the same instant Thurston gave a little jump into the air with his right arm stretched above his head. The ball had pa.s.sed like lightning between the wickets, and the spectators looked for a moment to see where it had gone; then a wild shriek of joy from "The Happy Family" rent the air,--

"_Caught!_"

It was true enough. With a splendid one-handed catch Thurston had brought the well-fought contest to a close, and secured a victory for Ronleigh College.

This brilliant feat, coupled with the gallant manner in which he had continued his innings when hurt, and so enabled Oaks to run up the score, caused the black sheep of the Sixth Form to be regarded as the hero of the day. Allingford shook him by the hand, and a noisy crowd hoisted him shoulder high and carried him three times round the quadrangle.

Thurston certainly had good reason to feel proud of the part he had played in the chief match of the season, and might in years to come have always looked back with pleasure on this twenty-fourth of July.

Unfortunately another event of a sadly different character was destined to make it a red-letter day in his career at Ronleigh. The feeling of respect and good-will which his prowess in the field had awakened in the minds of his former friends afforded him a splendid opportunity for rea.s.sociating himself with all that was worthy and honourable in school life. The chance no sooner presented itself, however, than it was flung away, and was lost for ever.

Evening preparation was over, and supper, an informal meal, attendance at which was not compulsory, was in progress. The door of Thurston's study was once more locked on the inside, as it had been when Diggory went to return the match-box to its rightful owner.

Fletcher senior, Hawley, and Gull sat on three sides of the small table, while Thurston himself occupied the fourth.

"Hang it all!" exclaimed the latter, throwing down a handful of playing cards upon the table, and pushing back his chair. "I shan't play any more to-night; I've got no more tin."

"Oh, go on; I'll lend you some," answered Fletcher. "I don't care whether I win or lose; it's only the game I play for."

As a matter of fact, Fletcher nearly always _did_ win, and was mightily displeased on the rare occasions when he lost.

"No; I've borrowed enough already," returned the other. "I shan't be able to square up as it is till next term. It's all very well for fellows like you three, who have rich people, and can write home any time for a fiver; but I'm not so flush of cash.--Look here, Gull, have you got that banjo? Sing us a song."

"All right," answered Gull, reaching down and picking a small five-stringed instrument off the floor; "what'll you have?"

"Oh, something with a good swing to it. I feel like kicking up a row."

Gull tuned up, struck a few chords, and then launched out into a rattling n.i.g.g.e.r song with an amount of "go" and clatter sufficient to inspire the hearer with an almost irresistible desire to get up and dance. The three listeners shouted the chorus at the top of their voices, pounding the table with their fists by way of a sort of drum accompaniment. Gull was just preparing to commence the fourth verse when there was a knock at the study door.

"Wait a jiff," said Thurston.--"Who's there? What d'you want?"

"Why," came the answer, uttered in rather a drawling tone, "I wish you fellows wouldn't make so much row. I can't possibly work. Do be quiet."

"Oh, go to Bath!" shouted Thurston.--"It's only that old stew-pot Browse," he added. "The beggar's got the next study, and he's cramming up for some 'exam.'--Go on, Gull."

The entertainment continued, and waxed more noisy than ever, the performers hammering the table with a ruler and two walking-sticks to add zest to the choruses.

Soon there came another interruption, very different in tone from the mild expostulation of the studious Browse. The door was violently shaken, and from without came the sharp, peremptory order of the school captain,--

"Look here, Thurston, just shut up; we've had enough of this horrible row for one night. Stop it, d'you hear?"

"All right," growled the owner of the study; "keep your hair on, old fellow!"

"Sh! steady on, Thirsty," said Fletcher, in a low tone. "Don't go too far, or he'll put a stop to our next merry meeting. I know Allingford, and he's rather a hard wall to run your head against."

"That confounded old Browse has gone and sneaked!" cried the other, with a flush of pa.s.sion on his face. "Let's wait till Ally's gone, and then make a raid on the old stew-pot."

Hawley and Gull sprang to their feet with a murmur of a.s.sent; Fletcher shrugged his shoulders and remained silent.

"What we'll do is this," continued Thurston. "He sits with his back to the door. I'll pop in first and throw this tablecloth over his head; then, while I hold him down, you chaps upset the things and put out the light. Then we'll rush out all together, and he won't know for certain who did it."

Five minutes later the conspirators crept out into the pa.s.sage, and tip-toed towards the door of the adjoining study. Fletcher lingered behind, and, instead of following the expedition, stole softly away in the opposite direction. Another moment, and the unfortunate Browse was struggling to rise from his chair, with his head enveloped in the tablecloth. Hawley and Gull, following immediately in rear of their leader, sent the table, with its load of books and writing materials, over with a crash, threw the chairs into different corners of the room, and were about to scatter the contents of the bookcase over the floor, when Allingford suddenly burst into the room, and stood glaring round like an angry lion.

With one swing of his right arm he sent Thurston staggering against the wall, and then, stepping forward without an instant's hesitation, he dealt each of the other marauders a swinging box on the ear.

The two Fifth Form boys were big, strong fellows, and for a moment it seemed as though a stand-up fight would ensue. The captain, however, followed up his attack with amazing promptness, and before his antagonists had time to think of resistance he had taken them both by the shoulders and sent them flying into the pa.s.sage.

"There!" he exclaimed. "I'll teach you gentlemen to come playing pranks on Sixth Form studies. What business have you got here, I should like to know?--As for you," continued the speaker, casting a scornful glance at the originator of the outrage, "I should have thought a fellow who's a prefect ought to know better than to go rioting with every scamp in the school."

Thurston's conduct on the cricket field had clearly proved him to be no coward. He stood his ground, and returned Allingford's angry glances with a look of fierce defiance. He attempted to make some reply, but somehow the words failed him, and turning on his heel he walked away to his own study.

"Confound that fellow Fletcher!" he muttered between his teeth.

"He always takes precious good care to sneak away when there's any row on. If it wasn't for that money I owe him, I'd punch his head."

Half an hour later there was a sharp rap at the door, and Allingford, Oaks, and Acton entered the room.

"Well," said Thurston, looking up with a frown from the book he was reading, "what d'you want now? I don't remember asking you fellows to come and see me. A chap can't call his study his own nowadays."

"No," answered Acton grimly. "If a chap wants to work, a lot of blackguards come and wreck his furniture."

"Look here, Thurston," said the captain coldly, "we've no wish to stay here longer than we can help. We've come simply to tell you this--that after what's happened to-night the prefects are determined that to-morrow morning you send in your resignation to the doctor."

"And supposing I don't choose to send in my resignation?" returned the other.