A LITERARY BANQUET
Charteris and Welch were conversing in the study of which they were the
joint proprietors. That is to say, Charteris was talking and playing
the banjo alternately, while Welch was deep in a book and refused to be
drawn out of it under any pretext. Charteris' banjo was the joy of his
fellows and the bane of his House-master. Being of a musical turn and
owning a good deal of pocket-money, he had, at the end of the summer
holidays, introduced the delights of a phonograph into the House. This
being vetoed by the House-master, he had returned at the beginning of
the following term with a penny whistle, which had suffered a similar
fate. Upon this he had invested in a banjo, and the dazed Merevale,
feeling that matters were getting beyond his grip, had effected a
compromise with him. Having ascertained that there was no specific rule
at St Austin's against the use of musical instruments, he had informed
Charteris that if he saw fit to play the banjo before prep, only, and
regarded the hours between seven and eleven as a close time, all should
be forgiven, and he might play, if so disposed, till the crack of doom.
To this reasonable request Charteris had promptly acceded, and peace
had been restored. Charteris and Welch were a curious pair. Welch spoke
very little. Charteris was seldom silent. They were both in the
Sixth--Welch high up, Charteris rather low down. In games, Welch was
one of those fortunate individuals who are good at everything. He was
captain of cricket, and not only captain, but also the best all-round
man in the team, which is often a very different matter. He was the
best wing three-quarter the School possessed; played fives and racquets
like a professor, and only the day before had shared Tony's glory by
winning the silver medal for fencing in the Aldershot competition.
The abilities of Charteris were more ordinary. He was a sound bat, and
went in first for the Eleven, and played half for the Fifteen. As
regards work, he might have been brilliant if he had chosen, but his
energies were mainly devoted to the compilation of a monthly magazine
(strictly unofficial) entitled _The Glow Worm_. This he edited,
and for the most part wrote himself. It was a clever periodical, and
rarely failed to bring him in at least ten shillings per number, after
deducting the expenses which the College bookseller, who acted as sole
agent, did his best to make as big as possible. Only a very few of the
elect knew the identity of the editor, and they were bound to strict
secrecy. On the day before the publication of each number, a notice was
placed in the desk of the captain of each form, notifying him of what
the morrow would bring forth, and asking him to pass it round the form.
That was all. The School did the rest. _The Glow Worm_ always sold
well, principally because of the personal nature of its contents. If
the average mortal is told that there is something about him in a
paper, he will buy that paper at your own price.
Today he was giving his monthly tea in honour of the new number. Only
contributors were invited, and the menu was always of the best. It was
a _Punch_ dinner, only more so, for these teas were celebrated
with musical honours, and Charteris on the banjo was worth hearing. His
rendering of extracts from the works of Messrs Gilbert and Sullivan was
an intellectual treat.
'When I take the chair at our harmonic club!' he chanted, fixing the
unconscious Welch with a fiery glance. 'Welch!'
'Yes.'
'If this is your idea of a harmonic club, it isn't mine. Put down that
book, and try and be sociable.'
'One second,' said Welch, burrowing still deeper.
'That's what you always say,' said Charteris. 'Look here--Come in.'
There had been a knock at the door as he was speaking. Tony entered,
accompanied by Jim. They were regular attendants at these banquets, for
between them they wrote most of what was left of the magazine when
Charteris had done with it. There was only one other contributor,
Jackson, of Dawson's House, and he came in a few minutes later. Welch
was the athletics expert of the paper, and did most of the match
reports.
'Now we're complete,' said Charteris, as Jackson presented himself.
'Gentlemen--your seats. There are only four chairs, and we, as
Wordsworth might have said, but didn't, are five. All right, I'll sit
on the table. Welch, you worm, away with melancholy. Take away his
book, somebody. That's right. Who says what? Tea already made. Coffee
published shortly. If anybody wants cocoa, I've got some, only you'll
have to boil more water. I regret the absence of menu-cards, but as the
entire feast is visible to the naked eye, our loss is immaterial. The
offertory will be for the Church expenses fund. Biscuits, please.'
'I wish you'd given this tea after next Saturday, Alderman,' said Jim.
Charteris was called the Alderman on account of his figure, which was
inclined to stoutness, and his general capacity for consuming food.
'Never put off till tomorrow--Why?'
'I simply must keep fit for the mile. How's Welch to run, too, if he
eats this sort of thing?' He pointed to the well-spread board.
'Yes, there's something in that,' said Tony. 'Thank goodness, my little
entertainment's over. I think I _will_ try one of those chocolate
things. Thanks.'
'Welch is all right,' said Jackson. 'He could win the hundred and the
quarter on sausage-rolls. But think of the times.'
'And there,' observed Charteris, 'there, my young friend, you have
touched upon a sore subject. Before you came in I was administering a
few wholesome words of censure to that miserable object on your right.
What is a fifth of a second more or less that it should make a man
insult his digestion as Welch does? You'll hardly credit it, but for
the last three weeks or more I have been forced to look on a
fellow-being refusing pastry and drinking beastly extracts of meat, all
for the sake of winning a couple of races. It quite put me off my feed.
Cake, please. Good robust slice. Thanks.'
'It's rather funny when you come to think of it,' said Tony. 'Welch
lives on Bovril for, a month, and then, just as he thinks he's going to
score, a burglar with a sense of humour strolls into the Pav.,
carefully selects the only two cups he had a chance of winning, and so
to bed.'
'Leaving Master J. G. Welch an awful example of what comes of
training,' said Jim. 'Welch, you're a rotter.'
'It isn't _my_ fault,' observed Welch, plaintively. 'You chaps seem to
think I've committed some sort of crime, just because a man I didn't
know from Adam has bagged a cup or two.'
'It looks to me,' said Charteris, 'as if Welch, thinking his chances of
the quarter rather rocky, hired one of his low acquaintances to steal
the cup for him.'
'Shouldn't wonder. Welch knows some jolly low characters in Stapleton.'
'Welch is a jolly low character himself,' said Tony, judicially. 'I
wonder you associate with him, Alderman.'
'Stand _in loco parentis_. Aunt of his asked me to keep an eye on
him. "Dear George is so wild," she said.
Before Welch could find words to refute this hideous slander, Tony cut
in once more.
'The only reason he doesn't drink gin and play billiards at the "Blue
Lion" is that gin makes him ill and his best break at pills is six,
including two flukes.'
'As a matter of fact,' said Welch, changing the conversation with a
jerk, 'I don't much care if the cups are stolen. One doesn't only run
for the sake of the pot.'
Charteris groaned. 'Oh, well,' said he, 'if you're going to take the
high moral standpoint, and descend to brazen platitudes like that, I
give you up.'
'It's a rum thing about those pots,' said Welch, meditatively.
'Seems to me,' Jim rejoined, 'the rum thing is that a man who considers
the Pav. a safe place to keep a lot of valuable prizes in should be
allowed at large. Why couldn't they keep them in the Board Room as they
used to?'
'Thought it 'ud save trouble, I suppose. Save them carting the things
over to the Pav. on Sports Day,' hazarded Tony.
'Saved the burglar a lot of trouble, I should say,' observed Jackson,
'I could break into the Pav. myself in five minutes.'
'Good old Jackson,' said Charteris, 'have a shot tonight. I'll hold the
watch. I'm doing a leader on the melancholy incident for next month's
_Glow Worm_. It appears that Master Reginald Robinson, a member of
Mr Merevale's celebrated boarding-establishment, was passing by the
Pavilion at an early hour on the morning of the second of April--that's
today--when his eye was attracted by an excavation or incision in one
of the windows of that imposing edifice. His narrative appears on
another page. Interviewed by a _Glow Worm_ representative, Master
Robinson, who is a fine, healthy, bronzed young Englishman of some
thirteen summers, with a delightful, boyish flow of speech, not wholly
free from a suspicion of cheek, gave it as his opinion that the outrage
was the work of a burglar--a remarkable display of sagacity in one so
young. A portrait of Master Robinson appears on another page.'
'Everything seems to appear on another page,' said Jim. 'Am I to do the
portrait?'
'I think it would be best. You can never trust a photo to caricature a
person enough. Your facial H.B.'s the thing.'
'Have you heard whether anything else was bagged besides the cups?'
asked Welch.
'Not that I know of,' said Jim.
'Yes there was,' said Jackson. 'It further appears that that lunatic,
Adamson, had left some money in the pocket of his blazer, which he had
left in the Pav. overnight. On enquiry it was found that the money had
also left.'
Adamson was in the same House as Jackson, and had talked of nothing
else throughout the whole of lunch. He was an abnormally wealthy
individual, however, and it was generally felt, though he himself
thought otherwise, that he could afford to lose some of the surplus.
'How much?' asked Jim.
'Two pounds.'
At this Jim gave vent to the exclamation which Mr Barry Pain calls the
Englishman's shortest prayer.
'My dear sir,' said Charteris. 'My very dear sir. We blush for you.
Might I ask _why_ you take the matter to heart so?'
Jim hesitated.
'Better have it out, Jim,' said Tony. 'These chaps'll keep it dark all
right.' And Jim entered once again upon the recital of his doings on
the previous night.
'So you see,' he concluded, 'this two pound business makes it all the
worse.'
'I don't see why,' said Welch.
'Well, you see, money's a thing everybody wants, whereas cups wouldn't
be any good to a fellow at school. So that I should find it much harder
to prove that I didn't take the two pounds, than I should have done to
prove that I didn't take the cups.'
'But there's no earthly need for you to prove anything,' said Tony.
'There's not the slightest chance of your being found out.'
'Exactly,' observed Charteris. 'We will certainly respect your incog.
if you wish it. Wild horses shall draw no evidence from us. It is, of
course, very distressing, but what is man after all? Are we not as the
beasts that perish, and is not our little life rounded by a sleep?
Indeed, yes. And now--with full chorus, please.
'"We-e take him from the city or the plough.
We-e dress him up in uniform so ne-e-e-at."'
And at the third line some plaster came down from the ceiling, and
Merevale came up, and the meeting dispersed without the customary
cheers.