The Hero of Garside School

by J. Harwood Panting

  CHAPTER XXXII

  HOW THE OLD FLAG WAS TAKEN FROM GARSIDE

  At this, the commencement of another chapter, we may as well take theopportunity of explaining to the reader the secret which had caused somuch excitement at Garside, namely, what had become of the schoolflag--who had had the audacity to capture it.

  It will be remembered that one of the Bedes who always took an activepart in opposition to the Garsiders was Mellor. The fact that he hadbeen at one time a Garsider made him keener to "score off" his oldcompanions, and he was ever to the fore in any enterprise for thatpurpose. But the great idea which possessed his mind, to the exclusionof most others, was the capture of the Garside flag. He knew thateverybody in the school was proud of it. He himself had been proud of itwhen he was at Garside. The school flag at Bede's had no such history.It was just an ordinary flag, with a white shield in front, the initialsof the school, and the school motto, precisely after the fashion of theschool cap.

  So it came about that ever since the day Mellor had been set upon by hisold companions, and made to crawl on all fours as "a Beetle," the ideahad come to him that he would like to inflict upon Garside the greatestblow that had yet been inflicted upon it by gaining possession of theold flag. He thought of it by day, and he thought of it by night; butday followed day, and night followed night, and there seemed littlechance of carrying out his purpose.

  There was only one boy at St. Bede's to whom he confided his secret, andthat was his dormitory companion and chum--Edward Crick. Crick wasabout the same age as Mellor, with the same love of sport, the samewiliness, and the same indifference to consequences when once an ideahad taken possession of him. And that's just what happened. When Mellorconfided to him his secret, the idea possessed him, and he was just askeen on carrying it out as Mellor. If between them they could only getpossession of the Garside flag, it would be one of the greatestachievements in the history of the school.

  They knew well enough that it was impossible to obtain possession of theflag by open assault. There was only one way--by taking the enemyunawares--by stealing a march upon them when it was least expected.

  Now, it was clear enough that in order to accomplish this purpose one ofthem would have to steal into the school at Garside and get to the westturret unobserved. Audacious as the scheme was, both were anxious forthe honour; but after discussing the point for some time, Mellor gaveway to Crick. Mellor was well known at Garside. He would be at oncestopped were he found entering the school, and questioned as to what hehad come for. Crick was unknown to the porter, and little known to mostof the boys. The main thing was to provide him with one of the Garsidecaps. It so happened that Mellor had retained his old cap. There were atleast twenty other boys of about the same size and age as Crick in theschool. With the school cap on his head it would be easy enough for himto slip into the grounds during one of the half-holidays when most ofthe boys would be on the playing-fields. If any one did notice him, hemight pass muster as a new boy.

  For the rest, Mellor was acquainted with every detail of the schoolbuilding, and gave Crick precise information as to the best and surestmethods to reach the west turret; so that Crick, as the result of thisinformation, knew almost as much about the building as Mellor.

  Everything having been thus clearly planned, it only remained to put theplan into execution. To this end Garside had been carefully reconnoitredby the two boys at every opportunity that offered--that was to say, onevery holiday. The opportunity they sought at length came--on thatafternoon when Plunger and his companions were so busily engaged inplaying the part of Crusoe. On cautiously approaching the school, thetwo confederates found that it was almost deserted. Crick thereuponboldly entered the grounds, with the Garside cap on his head and thecollar of his sweater up, just for all the world as though he belongedto the school.

  A door at the rear of the building led through a narrow passage to thestairs leading to the turret. Crick was not long in finding the door,just as it had been described by Mellor.

  Entering it, he quickly mounted to the turret, and reached the trap-doorleading to the roof. It had not been raised for some time, and Crick didnot find it easy to open; but putting his head to it, and forcing itupward with the full strength of his body, it at length opened amid ashower of dust, and the next minute Crick was through it and on theroof.

  His heart beat loudly as he saw only a few yards from him the old flagflying from its staff. He did not lose his head, however. He knew wellenough that, though he had succeeded in reaching the turret, hispresence there might be detected at any moment. Any one passing alongthe grounds might chance to glance up.

  So, lying flat on the roof, he took a careful survey of the scene below.An exclamation of surprise escaped his lips; he could not help it. Hefelt like Cortez, the famous discoverer, when, with an eagle eye, hegazed for the first time on the Pacific from a peak in Darien. TheGargoyles in the playing-fields looked like so many pigmies dartingbetween the goal-posts. Beyond them stretched the roadway leading to thecommon; to the left he could plainly see the glint of the sun on theriver. He little dreamt what was happening there, even as he gazed.

  Turning in another direction, there was an almost uninterrupted expanseof country till the distance was broken by the spire of St. Bede'srising from a background of hills. He never imagined that it would bepossible to see St. Bede's from Garside. He had thought the distance toogreat, but now the two schools, seen from that vantage ground, seemedridiculously near.

  Crick remained for some time lost in the view; then a clock chiming thequarter recalled him to his purpose. He glanced again in the directionof the playing-fields. There was nothing to fear in that direction. TheGargoyles were too much occupied in their game to pay any attention tothe roof. Crick drew himself nearer to the flagstaff.

  Slightly raising himself from his position on the roof, he lifted itfrom its socket, and, possessed of the prize for which he had risked somuch, drew it quickly beneath the trap-door.

  "SLIGHTLY RAISING HIMSELF FROM HIS POSITION ON THE ROOF,CRICK LIFTED THE FLAGSTAFF FROM ITS SOCKET, AND DREW IT QUICKLY BENEATHTHE TRAP-DOOR."]

  "Got it!" he cried, with a thrill of joy, as he glanced at the old,discoloured flag which had seen so much service--"got it!"

  Quickly rolling it round the staff, he next drew from under his sweatera cover of American cloth, which he wound in turn round the flag andstaff, till nothing could be seen of them. No one could have told whatthe cloth concealed. It looked like a bundle of fishing-rods.

  Descending the stairs as cautiously as he had ascended them, he oncemore reached the door leading from the turret stairs.

  "Now for it," he thought, bracing himself up.

  He had only to get outside the grounds and reach the place where Mellorwas awaiting him. He crept round the side wall, and was just about tohasten through that part of the grounds which lay between him and theroad, when he drew back suddenly. A boy was staggering along in thedirection of the schoolhouse with a burden of some sort in his arms.

  "My stars! Another moment and he would have seen me!" thought Crick,with a breath of relief. "What's he got in his arms, I wonder? Lookslike another chap, as though they'd been in the wars together."

  It was Paul, hastening to the school with Hibbert. In another minute hehad passed by where Crick was hiding. Then Crick heard voices. It wasPaul speaking to Waterman at the school door. The listener caught theword "accident." The next moment Waterman darted past him. The coastbeing again clear, Crick promptly followed in Waterman's footsteps. Hewas not long in reaching the hedge behind which Mellor was awaitinghim.

  "Got it?" was the eager question.

  "Yes. Look!"

  Mellor could have shouted with joy. Was it possible that the flag wasactually in their possession?

  "Bravo, Crick! It's the biggest thing we've ever scored over theGargoyles. My! won't they be savage! There'll be no holding them in whenthey find their flag's gone. But what's up? There's been an accident ofsome sort."

  "I
know there has. I nearly ran into a fellow who was carrying a kid inhis arms. Luckily I pulled up in time. Who were they--do you know?"

  "One was Percival, the fellow who skedaddled from Wyndham at thesand-pit. I don't know the kid he had in his arms, he must be afresher."

  "A fresher! He wasn't much of a fresher to look at. He looked like adrowned rat."

  The two returned to St. Bede's by the longest but less frequented way,and at length reached it without further adventure. They determined tohide the flag for the time being, and to confide the secret to their ownForm only--the Fourth.

  The Fourth was very jubilant, as may be imagined, at the feat performedby Crick and Mellor, who were at once looked upon as heroes. The flag,meanwhile, had been hidden in a barn, standing in a field near St.Bede's, belonging to a father of one of the day boys in Mellor's Form.

  Frequently they met in the barn, and withdrawing the flag from itshiding-place, stuck it in the centre of the floor, and danced round itlike a band of wild Indians celebrating a victory.

  Things were at this pass when Paul came to the decision to visit St.Bede's, to see if he could obtain information as to the missing flag.Plunger and Moncrief minor happened to be out on an expedition of theirown that afternoon on Cranstead Common. Plunger caught sight of Paul ashe turned the bend of the road leading to St. Bede's.

  "That was Percival, I'm pretty well sure of it," he cried. "Didn't yousee him?"

  "No. By himself?"

  "Isn't he always by himself? But let's make certain."

  The two boys ran to the roadway and glanced along it. There, sureenough, was Percival striding quickly along in the direction of St.Bede's.

  "Where's he making for? For the seminary of the crawlers, seems to me,"said Plunger. "Queer sort of chap! What can he want up there?"

  Harry did not answer. He recalled the afternoon when he had seen Paulspeaking to Wyndham. He had tried to forget that incident, and alongwith it the incident that had happened at the sand-pit. He had tried tothink only of Paul's heroism on the river when he had saved the lives ofthree of his school-fellows. He had cheered him as heartily as the reston that day when Baldry had called for "Three cheers for Percival!"After, as we have seen, he had tried to heal the differences between hiscousin and Percival; but now all the old suspicions came back with arush.

  "Yes; what can he want up there? Supposing we find out. There can be noharm in watching him."

  Plunger, as we know, had the bump of curiosity largely developed, andhis curiosity to know what Paul was doing at St. Bede's caused him toforget, perhaps, that in playing the spy he was not altogether makingthe best return in his power to one who had risked so much to save himfrom a watery grave.

  So he at once fell in with Harry's suggestion, and the two, keeping inthe background, followed in the footsteps of Paul.