The Gold Bat
Page 20
XVIII
O'HARA EXCELS HIMSELF
It was Renford's turn next morning to get up and feed the ferrets.Harvey had done it the day before.
Renford was not a youth who enjoyed early rising, but in the cause ofthe ferrets he would have endured anything, so at six punctually heslid out of bed, dressed quietly, so as not to disturb the rest of thedormitory, and ran over to the vault. To his utter amazement he foundit locked. Such a thing had never been done before in the whole courseof his experience. He tugged at the handle, but not an inch or afraction of an inch would the door yield. The policy of the Open Doorhad ceased to find favour in the eyes of the authorities.
A feeling of blank despair seized upon him. He thought of the dismay ofthe ferrets when they woke up and realised that there was no chance ofbreakfast for them. And then they would gradually waste away, and someday somebody would go down to the vault to fetch chairs, and would comeupon two mouldering skeletons, and wonder what they had once been. Healmost wept at the vision so conjured up.
There was nobody about. Perhaps he might break in somehow. But thenthere was nothing to get to work with. He could not kick the door down.No, he must give it up, and the ferrets' breakfast-hour must bepostponed. Possibly Harvey might be able to think of something.
"Fed 'em?" inquired Harvey, when they met at breakfast.
"No, I couldn't."
"Why on earth not? You didn't oversleep yourself?"
Renford poured his tale into his friend's shocked ears.
"My hat!" said Harvey, when he had finished, "what on earth are we todo? They'll starve."
Renford nodded mournfully.
"Whatever made them go and lock the door?" he said.
He seemed to think the authorities should have given him due notice ofsuch an action.
"You're sure they have locked it? It isn't only stuck or something?"
"I lugged at the handle for hours. But you can go and see for yourselfif you like."
Harvey went, and, waiting till the coast was clear, attached himself tothe handle with a prehensile grasp, and put his back into one strenuoustug. It was even as Renford had said. The door was locked beyondpossibility of doubt.
Renford and he went over to school that morning with long faces and ageneral air of acute depression. It was perhaps fortunate for theirpurpose that they did, for had their appearance been normal it mightnot have attracted O'Hara's attention. As it was, the Irishman, meetingthem on the junior gravel, stopped and asked them what was wrong. Sincethe adventure in the vault, he had felt an interest in Renford andHarvey.
The two told their story in alternate sentences like the Strophe andAntistrophe of a Greek chorus. ("Steichomuthics," your Greek scholarcalls it, I fancy. Ha, yes! Just so.)
"So ye can't get in because they've locked the door, an' ye don't knowwhat to do about it?" said O'Hara, at the conclusion of the narrative.
Renford and Harvey informed him in chorus that that _was_ thestate of the game up to present date.
"An' ye want me to get them out for you?"
Neither had dared to hope that he would go so far as this. What theyhad looked for had been at the most a few thoughtful words of advice.That such a master-strategist as O'Hara should take up their cause wasan unexampled piece of good luck.
"If you only would," said Harvey.
"We should be most awfully obliged," said Renford.
"Very well," said O'Hara.
They thanked him profusely.
O'Hara replied that it would be a privilege.
He should be sorry, he said, to have anything happen to the ferrets.
Renford and Harvey went on into school feeling more cheerful. If theferrets could be extracted from their present tight corner, O'Hara wasthe man to do it.
O'Hara had not made his offer of assistance in any spirit of doubt. Hewas certain that he could do what he had promised. For it had notescaped his memory that this was a Tuesday--in other words, amathematics morning up to the quarter to eleven interval. That meant,as has been explained previously, that, while the rest of the schoolwere in the form-rooms, he would be out in the passage, if he cared tobe. There would be no witnesses to what he was going to do.
But, by that curious perversity of fate which is so often noticeable,Mr Banks was in a peculiarly lamb-like and long-suffering mood thismorning. Actions for which O'Hara would on other days have beenexpelled from the room without hope of return, today were greeted witha mild "Don't do that, please, O'Hara," or even the ridiculouslyinadequate "O'Hara!" It was perfectly disheartening. O'Hara began toask himself bitterly what was the use of ragging at all if this was howit was received. And the moments were flying, and his promise toRenford and Harvey still remained unfulfilled.
He prepared for fresh efforts.
So desperate was he, that he even resorted to crude methods like thethrowing of paper balls and the dropping of books. And when your reallyscientific ragger sinks to this, he is nearing the end of his tether.O'Hara hated to be rude, but there seemed no help for it.
The striking of a quarter past ten improved his chances. It had beenprivily agreed upon beforehand amongst the members of the class that ata quarter past ten every one was to sneeze simultaneously. The noisestartled Mr Banks considerably. The angelic mood began to wear off. Aman may be long-suffering, but he likes to draw the line somewhere.
"Another exhibition like that," he said, sharply, "and the class staysin after school, O'Hara!"
"Sir?"
"Silence."
"I said nothing, sir, really."
"Boy, you made a cat-like noise with your mouth."
"What _sort_ of noise, sir?"
The form waited breathlessly. This peculiarly insidious question hadbeen invented for mathematical use by one Sandys, who had left at theend of the previous summer. It was but rarely that the master increasedthe gaiety of nations by answering the question in the manner desired.
Mr Banks, off his guard, fell into the trap.
"A noise like this," he said curtly, and to the delighted audience camethe melodious sound of a "Mi-aou", which put O'Hara's effort completelyin the shade, and would have challenged comparison with the war-cry ofthe stoutest mouser that ever trod a tile.
A storm of imitations arose from all parts of the room. Mr Banks turnedpink, and, going straight to the root of the disturbance, forthwithevicted O'Hara.
O'Hara left with the satisfying feeling that his duty had been done.
Mr Banks' room was at the top of the middle block. He ran softly downthe stairs at his best pace. It was not likely that the master wouldcome out into the passage to see if he was still there, but it mighthappen, and it would be best to run as few risks as possible.
He sprinted over to the junior block, raised the trap-door, and jumpeddown. He knew where the ferrets had been placed, and had no difficultyin finding them. In another minute he was in the passage again, withthe trap-door bolted behind him.
He now asked himself--what should he do with them? He must find a safeplace, or his labours would have been in vain.
Behind the fives-court, he thought, would be the spot. Nobody ever wentthere. It meant a run of three hundred yards there and the samedistance back, and there was more than a chance that he might be seenby one of the Powers. In which case he might find it rather hard toexplain what he was doing in the middle of the grounds with a couple offerrets in his possession when the hands of the clock pointed to twentyminutes to eleven.
But the odds were against his being seen. He risked it.
When the bell rang for the quarter to eleven interval the ferrets werein their new home, happily discussing a piece of meat--Renford'scontribution, held over from the morning's meal,--and O'Hara, lookingas if he had never left the passage for an instant, was making his waythrough the departing mathematical class to apologise handsomely to MrBanks--as was his invariable custom--for his disgraceful behaviourduring the morning's lesson.