Tom, Dick and Harry Part 62

"He says so," said I. "It's worth six yards to you, though."

"You think so, do you?" said he. "By the way, will you do a job for me?

My two young sisters awfully want to be on the ground, and they've got leave if some one will look after them. I can't. How would you like to?"

Here was a thunderbolt! I had a fair day's work mapped out for myself as it was. Now I was to be saddled with a pair of teasing young female fidgets, and held responsible for their good behaviour and general comfort! What did people take me for? Why, the Mile itself wouldn't take it out of me half as much.

"All right," said I, "where are they?"

"I'm going home; I'll send them down sharp before the crowd comes.

Thanks awfully, youngster."

And off he went, leaving me pretty full up with the cares of this deceitful world.

I proceeded to bag the nine best seats on the stand, which, as n.o.body else had yet put in an appearance, was easy enough without the trying necessity of sitting on them all at the same time. When the crowd arrived, it would be time enough to consider how I should then have to act.

I had not been long in possession when two dainty little figures in pink bore down hand-in-hand upon me, presumably under the protection of a nurse, who, however, was not in it when it came to racing.

"There's horrid Sarah," remarked Mamie, "who tried to drown me."

"Never mind," said Gladys, "he was nearly burned to death to punish him for being wicked."

"I hate him because he never gives us sweeties," said Mamie.

"Never mind," said Gladys; "Bobby says it's not his fault that he's a mule. I don't like mules though, do you?"

"I hate them," said the uncompromising Mamie.

"Please, Master Jones," said the nurse, "the mistress says will you see the young ladies behave nicely and don't dirty their frocks? Be good girls now," she added, by way of final admonition, as she departed.

I watched her go with the helpless despair of a man on a spar who watches the lifeboat put off with its last load for the sh.o.r.e. The young ladies, almost before nurse was gone, began to run along the rows of chairs, falling down once in twelve, and rapidly toning down the pretty pink of their frocks to a sombre brick hue. I was thankful when the crowd began to drop in, and I was able, by threats of taking them home before the races began, to reduce them at least to the nine seats for which I was responsible. How I wished I had some sweets, in order to reduce them to only three!

By good luck d.i.c.ky Brown hove in sight just as I was giving way to despair.

"d.i.c.ky, old chap," said I, "if you love me, get sixpennyworth of bulls'- eyes or something. I'd be grateful to you as long as I live."

d.i.c.ky looked at me anxiously--evidently concerned for my health. But a jerk of my head in the direction of the two little vixens, who were just then trying to pull a solemn-looking day boy off one of the chairs by main force, satisfied him that the case was an urgent one, and, like a brick, he flew off to the rescue.

The solemn day boy stood his persecution as long as he could, and then rounded sharply on his persecutors.

"Bother you, go away!" he growled.

Whereupon in floods of tears, the Misses Redwood made for me, and insisted on being taken up one on each knee and "cosseted" because of what the big ugly boy had done.

I complied with the energy of despair, conscious that in so doing I was allowing the reserved seats one by one to be usurped, and was at the same time rendering myself a spectacle of contempt to at least eight young persons, whom, in the gap left between the two wet faces which clung to my either cheek, I could see advancing in a body, clad in running drawers and blazers, in our direction.

It was vain for me to try to escape from my false position. The nearer the Philosophers approached, the more maudlin and effusive these unprincipled young females became, flinging their arms tragically round my neck, and bedaubing my face with their dewy kisses.

"Sarah _can_ go it a bit when he likes," said Langrish, with a cheerful guffaw, standing in a conspicuous place, and calling public attention to me in a way which only added to my sorrows.

"Rather. I wondered why he went down so early," said c.o.xhead.

"Birds of a feather," said the sententious Trimble, "play the fool together. I say, what about our seats, though?"

"They are bagged," said I, getting my face clear for a moment. "I couldn't keep them."

"I dare say. You mean you were so busy spooning about with girls you never thought of it. All right, Miss Molly," said Warminster.

"I think we could squash up a bit here," said I meekly.

"Looks as if _you_ could," said Langrish. "Squash away then." And, to the wrath and indignation of the whole stand, the Philosophers crowded in, in a solid phalanx, and proceeded to accommodate their eight persons in the s.p.a.ce usually allotted to two. It took some time for the other seat-holders to appreciate the humour of the manoeuvre, and before then the bell had rung for the first race, and d.i.c.ky had returned with the brandy-b.a.l.l.s, which he deftly smuggled into my hand as he trotted past.

It was now easy to "square" the Misses Redwood, who for a blessed half- hour cried truce. It was in vain that I suggested that they had better not plaster their faces and frocks more than could be helped with the sticky substance of their succulent pabulum. They contemptuously ignored my right to make any suggestion of the kind, and I finally abandoned them to their fate.

The first few events were trial heats, in which we as a body were not specially interested; but when the bell rang up for the Hundred Yards under fifteen, the Sports had begun for us in earnest.

Leaving the two Daughters of Eve with the bag of brandy-b.a.l.l.s between them, I clambered out of my place to perform the last rites for Warminster, who was to carry the colours of Sharpe's against d.i.c.ky Brown of the day boys, Muskett of Selkirk's, and another outsider.

It went a little to my heart to be rubbing down somebody else's calves but d.i.c.ky's on an occasion like this. But such is life. Patriotism goes before friendship, and times do come when one must wish confusion to one's dearest brother.

So I rubbed down one of Warminster's calves while Trimble rubbed the other, and Langrish gave him a word of advice about his start, and c.o.xhead arranged to call on him for his spurt twenty yards from the finish. With the exception of the other evening when he arrived at my mother's party I had never seen Warminster so meek and nervous. He behaved exactly as if we were taking a last farewell, and would, I think, have embraced us had we encouraged him to do so.

"Now then," said Langrish, "give us your blazer. Bend well over your toes for the start, and do it all in a breath."

"Run straight on your track, and don't try to take the other chaps'

water," said Trimble.

"Don't look round at me when I yell, but bucket all you can," said c.o.xhead.

"Don't pull up till after the pistol has gone," said I. Then we left him to his work.

And well enough he did it. He and d.i.c.ky went off at the start as if they'd been shot out of a double-barrelled gun, d.i.c.ky with his head down, our man with his head up. That was what saved him; half-way over d.i.c.ky had to get his chin up, and it lost him a sixteenth of a second, and that meant six inches. Selkirk's man made an ugly rush thirty yards from home, but he began it too soon. Warminster wisely waited till he heard c.o.xhead's shrill "Gee-up" in his ear. Then he laid on and made his six inches eight, and his eight ten, and landed so much in front of d.i.c.ky amid cheers which, if the clouds had been a little lower, would have a.s.suredly brought on a shower.

One score to us! I was sorry for d.i.c.ky, but it couldn't be helped.

"It's your fault," said he, "the brandy-b.a.l.l.s did it. I took one, you know; never mind. I say, look at your kids!"

The "kids" in question had finished the brandy-b.a.l.l.s, and, resenting my desertion, had decided to follow me into the open. As I had reached it by swarming over the front of the stand and dropping a foot or so on to the earth, they naturally selected that route as most suitable for them.

They had half accomplished it, to the extent of getting over the edge of the low parapet and beginning to lower themselves on the outside, when Mamie's frock caught in a nail, which suspended her between heaven and earth, while Gladys, in her uncertainty whether to scream or a.s.sist, had toppled to the ground all of a heap, and solved the difficulty that way. Their screeches almost put our loyal cheers to the blush, and when I rushed up to extricate the one and pick up the other, I was in the centre of a hullaballoo which almost threatened to wreck the Sports.

How they quieted down I know not. I believe it was my announced determination to walk them straight home which did it. At any rate, it was clear to me there was no more rubbing down of Sharpe's calves for me that day. I must remain, like Casabianca, on deck, even though it cost us all the events of the day.

It was a thankless task. First of all there was the usual ceremony of "cosseting" and drying tears. Then with a pin I had to mend the rent in Mamie's frock. Then I had to kiss both of Gladys's elbows to make them well, and finally I had to stand a fusillade of chaff and jeers from the Philosophers, which made life a heavier burden that it was already.

At last, to my joy, the bell rang up for the High Jump under fifteen, and public attention was diverted from my lamentable case.

As everybody who knew anything had antic.i.p.ated, Langrish won this, metaphorically speaking, "on his head." He knocked out the second man (a Selkirker) at 4 feet and half an inch, and went on gamely 2 inches higher, clearing the bar as prettily and daintily as Wales himself might have done in the open event. It was not at all certain he could not have gone higher against an opponent; but having no such spur, he grew careless, and after barely shaking down the bar twice at 4 feet 3 inches, kicked it off awkwardly the third time, and so retired an easy victor, and quite overcome by the applause of the now crowded field.

Then came the event of the day--the Open Mile, for which Tempest and Redwood were the only combatants. I felt myself growing as nervous as if I were running myself.

For my instinct told me that the welfare of Sharpe's more or less hung on the issue. Could Tempest but win, there would be no doubt that he would return to the headship of the house with an eclat which even Crofter would have to yield to. If not, Crofter might still hang on to the reins and claim his doubtful rights.