Tom, Dick and Harry Part 56

"Awkward. You'll have to buy new ones."

"Who for?"

"Tempest, of course. They were his bills."

"But it was Crofter's money."

"But Tempest has paid him back."

The result of this conversation was, that instead of practising for the Quarter-mile that afternoon I went down town with a bag, and expended five shillings of my term's pocket-money in the purchase of a pencil- sharpener, a strawberry ice, a net-bag, and a set of patent screw spikes.

d.i.c.ky, like a brick, undertook to convey these to Tempest, with the following letter, which I wrote at his suggestion.

"Dear Tempest,--I send you back the change I got out of the bills I got last term. I'm sorrier than I can say, and hope you won't hate me more than you do. d.i.c.ky will tell you how jolly blue I am, and how we all hope you'll win the Mile. We aren't backing up Crofter, and hope you'll soon be captain again. Please excuse me writing, but I don't like to come and tell you this, as you're so down on me.

"Yours truly,--

"T. Jones iv."

I also penned a further letter for Crofter:--

"Dear Crofter,--You needn't mind telling Tempest, as I've done so and paid him back. With thanks all the same,--

"Yours truly,--

"T.J. iv."

I felt vastly easier in my mind when this polite letter was at an end, and when I saw the faithful d.i.c.ky depart to execute his brotherly mission. My one fear was lest the strawberry ice should get warm before it reached its destination.

I waited in vain for any sign of response from Tempest. The Philosophers went down during the afternoon to watch him training for his race; but he vouchsafed us no regard, and, for all I knew, still put me down as a thief and a sharper. d.i.c.ky, whom I met later on, explained that he had failed to catch Tempest in his study, but had deposited the articles along with the letter on his table, so that, if he did not know of them yet, he soon would.

My anxiety was not at all allayed by a casual encounter with Crofter in the evening. He summoned me into his study, where I saw my _billet- doux_ lying on the table.

"I suppose you wrote this?" said he.

"Yes."

"And you think everything's clear now, do you?"

"Isn't it?" said I.

"I dare say Dr England will be able to tell you. By the way, why did you only give me 2 shillings 6 pence change instead of 3 shillings 6 pence?"

"There was only 2 shillings 6 pence to give."

"Really? I thought so too till your clever management of the tips tempted me to look over the bills again. I see that what you paid only came to 4 16 shillings 6 pence, instead of 4 17 shillings 6 pence. I don't want the other shilling, but hope you bought yourself something nice with it. You must consider it a present from Tempest, not me."

I timed red and white in the sudden confusion of that announcement. I was positively certain 2 shillings 6 pence had been the change, and that if there was any mistake it must be on the part of the tradesmen, not me. But how was I likely to convince Crofter, or, for the matter of that, Tempest, that such was the case?

"I promise you," said I, "I only had 2 shillings 6 pence change.

Really, Crofter, do believe me."

"I believe every word you say," said Crofter, with a smile. "I have every reason to, haven't I?"

"But, really and truly--"

"What's the use of saying any more? Of course, it's all really and truly. I've no doubt Tempest believes it too."

"Please let me see the bills," pleaded I; "I'll show you I'm right."

"Unfortunately Tempest has them. I dare say he will be delighted."

"You haven't told him about this, have you?" I gasped, in helpless misery.

"I'm going to; it's too good a joke to be kept to myself; I don't suppose he'll mind. Certainly he won't be surprised."

"Oh, Crofter, for goodness' sake, don't tell him this!" said I, blundering on into an appearance of guiltiness of which I was quite innocent. "I'm wanting so awfully to be friends with him again. I've given him back all I got out of the shops; and it will spoil everything if you tell him this, really--it isn't true either."

Crofter laughed pleasantly.

"It's rather likely I should shield you, isn't it? when all this term you and your friends have been insulting and defying me, and setting yourself to upset my authority as captain of the house."

"Oh, but we aren't!"

"What does this precious thing mean?" demanded he, producing the famous round-robin; "it's meant to be all politeness, I suppose."

"It only means," faltered I, "that we are sorry Tempest is not captain."

"Naturally. It's nice to have a captain one can swindle and rob, isn't it?"

I groaned miserably--it seemed no use trying to put myself right.

"If you chose to be civil and back me up, it would be different," said Crofter.

"But we are--we're going as steady as anything," said I.

"What do you mean by going to Pridgin and Wales and Tempest for _exeats_ and special leave instead of to me?" he demanded.

This was a point I was unprepared for. It was true that the Philosophers, in their desire not to be interfered with by the new captain, had made a point of applying, as they were ent.i.tled to do, to any of the other prefects of the house in preference to Crofter for _exeats_ and occasional leave to go without bounds. It had always been considered the prerogative of the captain of the house to grant these; but, strictly speaking, the other prefects had the right too. I tried to explain as much.

"Of course," said he, "it is a very neat way of ignoring my authority.

I expect you to come to me. I shall not refuse any reasonable request, but I'm not going to be insulted in my own house."

"But--" said I.

"There is no 'but' about it. If you want to prevent your being shown up to your friend as an amiable young swindler, you can stop it by undertaking that you and your lot will do what I tell you. If not, it is your own look-out, that's all."

Luckily the school bell enabled me to get away without giving any pledge. Fool as I was, I knew what all this meant. It was an attempt to buy us all over at the cost of that unlucky shilling, and with it to secure Crofter in the authority which he so dearly coveted, but so far so imperfectly enjoyed.