The Hero of Garside School

by J. Harwood Panting

  CHAPTER XXI

  THE CHASM WIDENS

  Unintentionally Harry Moncrief had made deeper the chasm between theone-time friends. It was quite evident to Stanley, from Harry'sdescription of what he had witnessed, that there was an understandingbetween Paul and Wyndham, otherwise they would never have shaken handswith each other. The fact that Paul could take the hand of one who hadthrashed him set the blood tingling in Stanley's veins. That showedplainly enough that Paul was on friendly terms with his enemy--with anenemy of the school. What was to be done?

  Stanley got up and paced the room. The softer feelings that had beenworking in his breast vanished.

  "I will never speak to Paul Percival again--never!" he said fiercely."Perhaps the whole of that business at the sand-pit was a trap of hisinto which I was fool enough to fall. How else could they have shakenhands together?"

  It seemed to him, thus blinded by suspicion against his friend, that itcould only have one meaning--they were gloating over his defeat.

  Meanwhile, Harry Moncrief had no sooner descended the stairs leadingfrom the dormitories than he came sharply into contact with Plunger, whowas hurrying along the corridor as though he were rushing full speed upa cricket pitch to prevent himself from being run out.

  "Hallo, Harry, just the fellow I was looking for!" he exclaimed.

  "Are you, Freddy? Then I wish you'd look for me with your eyes insteadof your elbows," answered Harry, rubbing his ribs, which were achingfrom the blow they had just received from the boniest part of Plunger'selbows. "What is it?"

  "You know that twaddle in the _Gargoyle Record_ about the poet beingstuck for a rhyme to 'hunger'?"

  "Yes," laughed Harry, as he recalled Plunger's confusion when theparagraph was read aloud in the common room.

  "What are you grinning at? You don't mean to say you saw anything funnyin it?"

  "Oh, no; but you're bound to laugh when the other fellows laugh, youknow. It's like the measles--catching. I'm all right now. Go on. Youwere saying----"

  "I believe that paragraph was sent in to the editor--Dick Jessel, youknow--by Baldry."

  "Oh! What makes you think that?"

  "He's been worrying about rhymes ever since that paragraph was readout--that's why. You see, he sent in the paragraph so that he might haveanother shot at me with the answer. Baldry's a deep 'un."

  "But why should he send in paragraphs to the _Record_ against you?"

  "Well, I make fun of his name, so he's trying to score off me in return.But he can't do it, for 'Plunger's' no sort of rhyme to 'hunger.' Andthere's another thing I've got to tell you in confidence, Harry. Ibelieve that cartoon of me on the Forum window was Baldry's work."

  "Oh!" answered Harry drily. "What makes you think that?"

  "Baldry once said that if the glue business failed"--Plunger's fatherwas a glue and size merchant in a large way of business--"I could alwayspick up my living as an artist's model."

  "How?"

  "Well, he had the cheek to tell me I had a funny sort of face. AndBaldry's smart with the pencil, you know; so, putting this and thattogether, I believe Master Baldry not only sent in that paragraph to the_Record_, but put my face on the Forum window."

  "Very wrong of him, Freddy," said Harry sympathetically. "What are yougoing to do with him?"

  "Well, I've got a lovely old basket, once the property of a dear andhighly-respected friend of yours, Mrs. Trounce, and this basket isfilled with a lovely collection of feathers. Along with these featherswill be mixed a little glutinous substance, as the chemistry mastercalls it, which I brought last term from the pater's works. This basketwill be fixed directly over the Forum door, by means of a string, theend of which will be held by some one hidden in a tree at the back ofthe Forum. That some one in the tree will be you. Are you listening?"

  "Ra-ther. That some one in the tree will be me. Go on."

  "My dearly beloved and much respected chum, Sammy Baldry, will receive amessage calling him to the Forum at half-past six. Someone will be atthe side of the Forum, so as to know the exact moment Baldry appears onthe scene. Directly he nears the door that some one will whistle. Thatwill be a signal to you up in the tree. Baldhead will open the door.Then you'll pull the string. Over will go the basket, and down will comethe pretty feathers over Baldhead. In the information Baldry was goodenough to supply to the _Gargoyle Record_, affectionate inquiries weremade, you remember, after the Missing Link, last seen in all his nativebeauty in the Forum. What price for Baldry, eh? When he gets thesefeathers on him he'll be a puzzle. No one will be able to tell whichkingdom he belongs to--animal, vegetable, or mineral."

  And Plunger chuckled so that it seemed as though he would never be ableto stop himself. Just to keep him company, Harry chuckled too.

  "Splendid little joke, isn't it, Harry?"

  "Splendid."

  "I told you what fun you'd have when you got to Garside. Better thanGaffer Quelch's, eh? Things were awfully slow there, weren't they,Harry?"

  "Awfully."

  But, so far as fun was concerned, Harry couldn't see that he had hadvery much of it, except at his own expense. Plunger had, in fact, madehim his butt, and now he wished to score off Baldry through hisinstrumentality.

  "I didn't quite understand you, Freddy," said Harry presently, asPlunger went on chuckling. "Who do you say was to be up in the tree atthe back of the Forum and pull the string?"

  "You, Harry. I'm giving you the post of honour, because you deserve it.Baldry has poked fun at you a lot. Now it's your turn, old fellow."

  "It's very kind of you, Freddy--it really is. I don't know how to begrateful enough. I'm to be in the tree, you say: but where will you be?"

  "Oh, I'll do the whistling."

  "The whistling?"

  "Yes, to let you know up in the tree when Baldry comes along. Then,directly Baldry opens the door, you pull the string, and--there you are.Baldry in full plumage. It's all clear enough, isn't it?"

  "All clear enough;--but----"

  "But what? You're not going to cry off, are you?"

  "I'm not going to cry off; but suppose we change places."

  "How do you mean?"

  "You go up the tree and do the pulling, and let me do the whistling."

  "Why, it'll be ever so much more fun to pull the string. I want to giveyou the best position, you see."

  "I know you do, Freddy. I know your good nature; but I'm not going tolet you make the sacrifice. I'll do the whistling."

  "Very well, if you wish it. I don't mind which I do," said Plunger, in alofty tone. "Only don't make a mess of it."

  "Oh, my part's so simple, I can't make a mess of it. Mind you don't makea mess of yours, Freddy."

  Now Harry decided, immediately on quitting Plunger, that he wouldacquaint Baldry with the joke that Plunger intended to play upon him. Itwas he who had drawn that cartoon in the Forum that had stirred Plungerto wrath, and Harry came to the conclusion that it was not right thatBaldry should suffer for him. Besides, as Plunger had so often scoredover him, he thought it only right that he should begin to equalizematters. So he hunted up Baldry, and informed him of Plunger's kindintentions towards him.

  "Oh," said Baldry, when Harry had ended, "that's Plunger's little game,is it? I thought he was getting a bit cross, but I didn't think hemeant showing his teeth. The beauty of it is, I hadn't anything to dowith that portrait of him on the Forum window. I know no more about itthan you do."

  "Than I do!" echoed Harry, smiling to himself.

  "He made a better guess when he told you that I inspired thoseparagraphs in the _Record_. I just gave a hint to Jowett. Jowett passedit on to Jessel, and Jessel put in the smart bits that touched Plungeron the raw. Plunger's all right when he's going for other people, but hedoesn't like it when others go for him."

  Harry quite sympathized with this view of things.

  "There's my name," went on Baldry. "I can't help my name. I didn'tchristen myself, and was never asked whether I liked it or not. That'sthe worst of names. You never are
consulted. It's all done for you byyour ancestors, and your godfathers and godmothers--and people of thatsort. I don't know why it should be, but it is; and there you are--fixedup for life with a name, unless you happen to be a girl, and getmarried, then you drop it for another, but it may be ever so much worsethan the one you've got. Now, what I say is this--Baldry isn't such abad name, as names go, is it, Moncrief?"

  "Better than Plunger, any day," remarked Harry, in his most sympatheticmanner.

  "Better than Plunger, as you say, Moncrief. Where Plunger's ancestorspicked up a name like that, goodness only knows. It must have come outof the Ark. And yet he's always calling me 'Baldhead,' 'Bladder ofLard,' 'The Lost Hair,' and telling me to go in for hair-restorer,Tatcho, and making feeble jokes of that sort. But I think I went onebetter when I got that paragraph in the _Record_, eh?"

  "Yes, Baldry you scored there; but what we've got to think about is, howto prevent Plunger from scoring back. Some one will have to go to theForum in answer to his invitation, when it comes. It won't matter who,because Plunger won't be able to see; he'll be up in the tree, waitingfor my whistle. So who's to be the victim?"

  Baldry became thoughtful. He ran through the list of his acquaintanceswhom he thought most deserving of the honour that Plunger proposed tobestow on him. He thought of one or two in his form who might have beenavailable for his purpose, but it was just possible that they were inthe confidence of Plunger. So he turned from his own form to theFifth--"the bounders of the Fifth."

  "I've got it," he suddenly exclaimed. "Percival!"

  "Percival!" echoed Harry.

  "Yes; that's the ticket; the very thing--Percival. If it comes off allright, it'll be a big hit. We shall be covered with glory, and he'll becovered with feathers--ha, ha! It couldn't be better. Do you see how itfits in? A nice little present of feathers for the fellow who showed thewhite feather at the sand-pit. Isn't it splendid, Moncrief?"

  Harry was silent. Percival had been far from his thoughts. He neverimagined that Baldry would suggest Percival. For the moment his mindwent back to that night when Paul came to Redmead. Once again he couldhear the low, earnest tones of his father--"Many thanks for the greatservice you have done, Paul. You have not only done a great service forme and my brother, but for your country."

  "Well, Moncrief; why don't you answer?" came the voice of Baldry. "It'sthe finest idea that has come to me for a long time. Feathers for thefellow who showed the white feather."

  At the words, the image of his father faded from Harry's mind. He couldno longer hear the echo of his words. He only saw his cousin's bleedingface as he rose vanquished from the sand-pit; and, side by side withthat picture, he saw Percival walking and talking, and shaking handswith "the wretched Beetle--Wyndham," as he had seen him walking andtalking and shaking hands with him that afternoon.

  "A fine idea--splendid!" he cried. "Nothing could be better. LetPercival be the victim."