"Youngster, you are to go to the Doctor at half-past nine."
"Oh, ah!" said Coote to himself, knowingly. "I know what that means."
"Do you hear?" asked Swinstead.
"I suppose you think I'm green," said the new boy.
Swinstead laughed.
"What on earth should make me think that?" said he.
Coote chuckled merrily to himself as he saw the senior depart.
"I'm getting over the worst of it," said he to himself. "They'll soon
give up trying it on me. Ha, ha!"
And he went off to find his chums, who took him for a stroll in the
Fields.
"Well, young 'un," said Dick, patronisingly, "getting used to it? Worn
your flannels lately?"
"You're a beastly cad, Dick," said Coote; "but you don't catch me like
that again."
"No, you're getting too knowing," said Georgie.
Coote laughed.
"I'm not quite as green as some fellows think," said he. "A fellow came
to me this morning and told me to go to the Doctor at 9:30. A nice fool
he thought he'd make of me. Ha, ha!"
"What fellow was he?" said Dick, looking rather serious.
"I don't know his name," said Coote. "The fellow who marked the names
in chapel, I believe."
"What, Swinstead? Did he tell you to go?"
"Rather; and I told him I wasn't such a fool as I looked--I mean as he
thought."
"By Jove!--you young ass! You've got yourself into a mess, if you
like."
"How do you mean?" inquired the new boy, beginning to be alarmed at the
concerned looks of his two friends.
"Why, he's Chapel usher," said Dick. "Do you mean to say you didn't go
to the Doctor?"
"Rather not. I--"
"What's the time?" said Dick.
"A quarter to ten."
Without more ado they took the unhappy Coote between them and rushed him
frantically back to the school, where they shot him in at the Doctor's
door just as that gentleman was about to dismiss his new boys' class.
"How is this, Coote?" demanded the Head Master, sternly, as the
breathless boy entered. "Were you not told to be here at half-past
nine?"
"Yes, sir; I--I made a mistake. I'm very sorry, sir."
The genuine terror in his face procured his reprieve this time. Dr
Winter may have been used to "mistakes" of this kind. At any rate, he
contented himself with cautioning the new boy against unpunctuality
generally, and, by way of punishment, gave him an examination all to
himself, which resulted, much to his comfort, in his being placed in the
upper third, of which Dick and Heathcote were already shining lights.
While he was thus engaged, Dick and Heathcote were holding a secret, and
by no means cheerful, consultation over a recent number of the
_Templeton Observer_.
"I made sure it was all blown over," said the latter, dejectedly.
"What a cad the fellow must be!" said the former.
"I think newspapers are a regular nuisance!" said Georgie.
"All I know is, he robbed us of all we had, and if we'd informed he'd
have been in Botany Bay or somewhere this minute!" said Dick, working
himself up into a passion.
The extract from the _Templeton Observer_ which gave rise to this duet
of wrath was as follows, dated some ten days before the close of the
holidays:--
*The recent mysterious disappearance of a Templeton boat*.--Up to the
present time nothing has been heard of the _Martha_, which, as our
readers will remember, disappeared from the Templeton beach, on the
4th June last. The supposed clue with which the police professed to
be provided has, so far, failed to bring the perpetrators of the
outrage to justice; although the hope is by no means abandoned of
tracing the missing lad. The matter is somewhat seriously complicated
by the discovery that Thomas White, the reputed owner of the boat, was
at no time its actual proprietor. The _Martha_ was the joint property
of White and three other men, one of them skipper of the brig _Julia_,
and the other two well-known fishermen, of this town. It appears that
an arrangement was made, whereby White should be the nominal owner of
the boat, he undertaking to hand over monthly three quarters of the
profits to his partners. In May last, during the absence of his other
partners, White pawned the _Martha_ representing her to be his sole
property, and appropriated the whole proceeds of the transaction. For
this act of fraud (which the recent loss of the boat and the return of
its joint owners has brought to light) we understand a writ has been
issued against White, and that he will be arrested immediately on his
return to Templeton from his present cruise with the Fishing Fleet in
the high seas.
"Tom White's a regular bad one," said Dick.
"Yes. It was a jolly mean trick to pawn what didn't belong to him."
"The thing is, who did it belong to when we--when it got adrift?"
"The pawnbroker, I suppose," said Heathcote. "Most likely Nash."
"No wonder Tom White didn't seem much cut up about losing her."
"No; he made a good thing by it. It's a comfort to think he'll get
nabbed at last."
"Of course, we've nothing to do with his row," said Dick.
"Of course not. We had nothing to do with pawning the boat."
And yet, they concluded, if the _Martha_ had never gone adrift, no one
would have known of Tom White's fraud, and he might have been able to
make money enough with her to clear himself.
It seemed unfair to rake up an old sore like this at the very beginning
of the term, especially when, as they persuaded themselves, over and
over again, the whole affair had very little to do with them.
"I vote we don't look at this wretched paper any more," said Heathcote,
crumpling up the offending _Observer_ into a ball, and giving it a punt
across the path.
"Why not? We may as well see what becomes of Tom White," said Dick.
"Young Aspinall can fetch us up a copy once a week."
And so one of the events of the new term was that the _Templeton
Observer_ had a new subscriber, and increased its circulation by two new
and very diligent readers.