Boarding schools -- England -- Juvenile fiction; Boys -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Schools -- Juvenile fiction
Whereupon the witness stopped short triumphantly, like an athlete who
has just won his race by a neck.
"Come," said the judge, "this is getting interesting. Who's the next
witness? Are any of our fellows who were collared here?"
"Rather--young Rix is one."
"Please, Dangle," said the prisoner, "I didn't touch anybody. I was--
that is--"
"Don't tell crams," said Percy, "it's a bad habit."
"Rix had better go into the witness-box," said the judge.
"What about the jury?" asked that functionary.
"Oh, I'd keep the place warm," volunteered Percy.
Whereupon Rix quitted his hassock, and entered the fender.
"I and Slingsby got nailed by a Classic cad outside our form door. I
kicked him on the shins, though," said he.
"What Classic cad!"
"Oh, I don't know; a new kid with sandy hair, a horrid lout. It was
Wally's room we were taken to, and they fooled us about high tea and
that sort of thing. The place was swarming with our chaps who had been
collared."
"How many?" asked the judge. "Fifty?"
"Not quite so many; there were four or five."
"Next witness."
Another of the captives gave similar evidence. After which, Lickford
deposed that he had seen the troop come in to Elections just in time to
vote for Dangle.
"Yes; and who tried to keep us out, I'd like to know?" said Percy.
"There you are, it was _you_!"
"I thought you were on the other side."
"Did you? I'm very glad Wally gave you a welting for it. I wish he'd
do it again."
"He hits above the belt, that's how I know him from you," retorted
Lickford.
"Order--what's the prisoner got to say!"
"Crams," said Percy, "it's no use asking him."
"Wait a bit," said the judge. "Fisher minor, how many of our chaps did
you collar?"
"None, really," said the prisoner. "I waited by the gymnasium."
"Oh. What for?"
"Well, I was canvassing."
"What did you wait at the gymnasium for?" This was awkward. Fisher
minor found himself getting into a tight corner, tighter even than the
wash-stand. "I was told to."
"Who by? your brother, I suppose."
"Oh no. My brother wouldn't do such a thing."
"What sort of thing?"
"Why, try to collar fellows off the other side."
"Oh, that was your little game, was it? Whose idea was it? Yorke's?"
"Oh no. It was D'Arcy spoke to me."
"Oh, D'Arcy. And who spoke to him? Whose fag is he?"
"Ridgway's."
"And what did Ridgway tell him?"
"I don't think Ridgway told him anything. The only one I heard speak to
him was Wally."
"Wretched young sneak!" said Percy. "I'll let Wally know that."
"Wally, he's Yorke's fag. Who else was there?"
"Only me and Ashby."
"Who does Ashby fag for?"
"My brother, Fisher major."
"I thought you said just now your brother wasn't in it. You'd better be
careful, youngster."
For the life of him, Fisher minor, in his bewildered state, could not
make out how Ridgway, and Yorke, and Fisher major all seemed to have got
mixed up in the affair.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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