Tom, Dick and Harry Part 3

"Please, sir, I couldn't be sure I had not been dreaming."

"When did you hear this sound?"

"I don't know what time, sir; I had been asleep."

"Was it light or dark?"

"Dark."

"Is that all you heard?"

"I thought I heard a yell, too."

"Did you get up or wake any of the others?"

"No, sir."

"Did you do nothing at all?"

"I was frightened, sir, and hid under the clothes."

"Is that all?"

Wasn't it about enough? I thought.

"Yes, sir."

I staggered back to my seat like a wounded man after a fray. I knew I had lost caste with the fellows; I had seriously compromised myself with the head master. At least, I told myself, I had escaped the desperate fate of saying anything against the Dux. For the sake of that, I could afford to put up with the other two consequences.

The grand inquest came to an end. One candid youth admitted that all he knew of the matter was that he was very glad Hector was dead, and for this impious irrelevance he was ordered to write an appalling imposition and forfeit several half-holidays. But that, for the time being, was the worst thunderbolt that fell from the doctor's armoury.

The Dux was kindly waiting for me outside. If he was grateful to me he concealed his feelings wonderfully; for he seized me by the coat collar and invited me to step with him to a quiet retreat where he administered the soundest thrashing I had had that term without interruption.

Explanation, I knew, would be of no avail. Tempest made a point of always postponing an explanation till after the deed was done.

When at length I gathered myself together, and inquired as pleasantly as I could to what special circ.u.mstances I was indebted for this painful incident, he replied--

"For being an idiot and a sneak. Get away, or I'll kick you."

Brown, whom I presently encountered, put the matter rather more precisely.

"Well," said he, "you told about as much as you could. How sorry you must have been not to tell more!"

"Don't, d.i.c.ky;" said I; "I--I--"

"You're almost as big an a.s.s as you look," said d.i.c.ky, "and that's saying something. Come and see my experiment."

I was not in a scientific mood, but anything was welcome to change the subject. So I took d.i.c.ky's arm and went.

d.i.c.ky was a queer boy. He was of an inventive turn of mind, and given up to science. His experiments rarely succeeded, and when they did they almost invariably landed him in disgrace. Still he persevered and hoped some day to make a hit.

He explained to me, as we walked down the garden, that he had lately been taking an interest in the pond.

It was all I could do to appear only moderately interested in this announcement. Had not I an interest in the pond too? What followed was even more uncomfortable.

"You know Lesseps and all those chaps?" said he.

"He left before I came, I think," said I.

d.i.c.ky laughed unfeelingly.

"I mean the chap who cut the Suez Ca.n.a.l," said he.

"Oh! I beg your pardon," said I. "No, I don't know him."

"Well, I've been having a go in at the same kind of job," continued d.i.c.ky. "You know what a drop there is at the end of the pond, where you saw me yesterday, in the shrubbery? Well, it struck me it wouldn't take much engineering to empty it."

"What!" I exclaimed, "empty the pond! You'll get in an awful row, d.i.c.ky. Don't think of it."

"Think--it's done, I tell you," said the man of science. "That was what I was at when you saw me."

"I thought you were digging up primroses."

"Digging up grandmothers! I was letting in a pipe to drain it. It was a rare job to shove it in from the bottom corner of the pond through the bank into the shrubbery. But I managed it. It was coming through like one o'clock when I left. I expect the pond will be empty by this time."

I quailed with horror. If so, I should be discovered. I was tempted to turn tail: but that would be even worse. The only thing was to stay and see it through.

I confronted myself with the reflection that d.i.c.ky's experiments so rarely succeeded, that in all probability the pistol still lay safe under four feet of water. If not--

"Hooray!" exclaimed d.i.c.ky, as we came in sight of the place; "it's done the trick this time. See, Tom!"

I did see. In place of the water I left there in the morning was a large empty basin of mud, with a few large puddles of water lying at the bottom, and a few hillocks of mud denoting the places which had once been shallows.

My quick eye hurriedly took in the dismal landscape. For a moment my spirits rose, for I could nowhere discern the compromising object I dreaded to see. It was no doubt buried in the mud, and as safe as if the pond were full to the brim.

"Isn't it ripping?" said d.i.c.ky. "It wasn't easy to do, but it only wanted a little management. I mean to go in for engineer-- Hullo, what's that rummy stone out there? or is it a stone, or a fish, or-- I say, Tom," he added, clutching my arm, "I'm bothered if that's not a pistol!"

My white face and chattering teeth made reply unnecessary. There, snugly perched on a little heap of stones, as if set up for inspection, lay the unlucky pistol, gleaming in the afternoon sun.

d.i.c.ky looked first at the pistol, then at me; and began slowly to take in the state of affairs.

He took a cautious step out in the mud in the direction of the weapon, but came back.

"I thought you could hardly be chucking in all those things for fun,"

said he presently.

I stood gaping in an imbecile way, and said nothing.

"I know whose it is. He had it up here once before."