AN EARLY MORNING SPIN
It was quite a common thing for new boys at Marlthorpe College to be
made the victims of practical jokes during their first night in the
school; but such was the impression which Ralph Rexworth had made, that
no tricks were attempted with him. A boy who could take his own part so
vigorously was not the sort that it was safe to take liberties with.
Nor was that the only reason. With Dobson and his friends it was quite
sufficient, but with the better boys, that quiet kneeling down to pray
had not been without effect. Some of them recognized that to do that
might require more courage than to deal as he had done with those who
had invaded his study--a moral courage, far greater and better than a
physical; and they realized that a boy who possessed that courage was
not a fit subject for stupid jokes.
So Ralph slept peacefully until the morning, when, used to early rising
all his life, he opened his eyes before any of the other boys were
awake.
At first he felt puzzled with his surroundings, but he soon remembered;
and propping himself upon his elbow he lay watching the faces of the
others, wondering what sort of lads they would prove to be, and how he
should get on with them, and whether he would be able to master the
lessons which they were engaged upon.
Then he looked at Charlton, and thought how sad he looked, even in his
sleep; and he noted how often he sighed. Perhaps he was dreaming of his
father.
That sent him thinking of his own father, and the mystery of his fate;
and he pondered whether it would ever be possible for him--a lonely boy
in this strange land--to find out the truth concerning his parent's
disappearance. But he was not altogether alone; it was wrong to think
of himself in that light. God had given him a friend in Mr. St. Clive,
and another in Mrs. St. Clive, and yet a third--a very nice, lovable
third--in Irene! Ralph, who had never had anything to do with girls,
thought Irene the sweetest, dearest little friend that it would be
possible to find.
A bell rang, and his companions stretched and yawned and opened their
eyes; and though some grunted and turned over again, determined to have
every minute they could, several jumped up at once, and hastily pulling
on their clothes began sluicing and splashing in good, honest, cold
water.
"Hallo! Awake? Slept well?" queried Warren seeing that Ralph was
preparing to follow the example of these last boys. "Any one try any
games with you in the night?" And he came and sat down on Ralph's bed,
and grinned when the new boy answered that he had not been disturbed.
"I suppose they thought better of it. That is your basin!" he added,
pointing to one washstand. "Mind that they don't take all the water, or
you will either have to sneak another fellow's, or go and get some more
for yourself. Look sharp, and then we will go and have a turn with the
bells, and a spin afterwards, I like to get all I can before breakfast;
it seems to set a fellow up for the day."
Ralph nodded, and began vigorously sluicing and polishing; and the
boys, too busy about their own business, paid no attention to him. He
was quite capable of looking after himself, in their opinion. At last,
all ready to accompany the monitor, he quietly repeated his action of
the previous night--he knelt down in prayer.
That staggered even Warren. As a whole, the boys were good lads, but
even those who had been accustomed to evening prayers in their homes
did not seem to think that morning prayers were quite as important.
They wanted to scramble off to play as quickly as possible. The Head
always read prayers in school, and that was enough; and here was this
new fellow wasting precious time in this way!
A few sneered and giggled; some shrugged their shoulders, and ran off;
some looked grave; and Warren sat nursing his foot, and pondering;
while Charlton turned red.
But they made no remarks; and when Ralph rose from his knees, the three
went out together. Warren was turning over a decidedly new leaf. If he
had not annoyed Charlton before, he had left him pretty much alone, and
now he was admitting him to his company. Well, Charlton was Rexworth's
chum, and if he wanted Rexworth he must have the chum as well.
Charlton hardly expected the monitor to be friendly to him, but he
waited for his chum, and Warren waited, too.
"Let us get down and have a try at the bells," suggested the monitor,
leading the way. And Ralph inquired innocently--
"Ringing bells, do you mean?"
Whereat Warren stared, and felt just a little less respect for the
new boy. What sort of a fellow could he be if he didn't know what
dumb-bells were?
"Ringing bells?" he repeated. "No; dumb-bells--exercises, you know!
Come on, I will show you."
"I never saw bells like those," was Ralph's comment, when a pair was
produced. "How do you use them?"
Warren went through a set of exercises, and then handed them to Ralph,
who laughed, and said--
"Why, they don't weigh anything! I don't see much exercise in this!"
"They are six-pounders," was the answer; "quite as heavy as you will
want. Now try this exercise--do it a dozen times."
Warren showed Ralph the right way, and off he went; Charlton, who had
also got a pair of bells, doing the same. And, to Ralph Rexworth's
surprise, he found that those weights at which he had laughed soon made
him feel tired, and that Charlton could keep on longer than he could.
He could not understand that.
"I don't see why it should be," he said.
And a voice replied--
"Because you are exercising muscles which you have not tried much
before, my lad." And he turned, to see Mr. Delermain watching him.
"Try again," said the master. "Only once; this sort of thing must be
done gradually. Go slow, and take time."
Ralph obeyed: but dumb-bells certainly made his arms ache. And then
Warren suggested Indian clubs.
"Indian clubs," repeated Ralph, "and what are they? I never saw the
Indians use clubs. They have knives and hatchets, and spears and bows,
and some of them use guns, too, and shoot wonderfully well; but I never
saw them use clubs."
Now that speech caused a smile, but it was a very respectful smile; for
here was a boy who had actually seen real Indians. That was something,
even if he did not know what Indian clubs were!
However, the clubs were produced, and Ralph was shown how to swing
them. And, as a natural result of his first attempt, he hit his head a
smart crack, evoking a burst of laughter thereby.
"Slow and steady," he answered; "I shall get it in time. I don't
understand these things; but if you get me a coil of rope, I will show
you one or two little things that I do not think any of you can do."
"A coil of rope--that is easily supplied," said Mr. Delermain; and
when it was brought, he said: "Now, Rexworth, let us see what you can
do." And all the boys stood round while Ralph took the rope and made a
running noose at one end.
"Give me plenty of room," he said, and he commenced to whirl the noose
round and round his head, letting the rope run out as he did so; until
at last he held the very end in his hand, and the rest was twirling
round and round him in a perfect circle.
"One of you try to do that," he said.
And try they did, in vain. They could not even get it to go in a
circle, and it made their arms ache dreadfully.
Then he made the circle spin round him on its edge just as if that rope
was a hoop; and afterwards he actually jumped through it as it was
going, explaining that the cowboys on the ranches frequently indulged
in such tricks as these, and were experts at it--far more so than the
Indians themselves.
Then nothing would do but that he must show them how a lasso was
thrown. And though several, including the master, essayed to try, not
one of them was able to send the noose over Ralph's shoulders, though
he caught them, one after the other, without the slightest trouble.
"It is what one is used to," he said laughing. "I have not had much to
do with bells and clubs--nothing to do with them, indeed--but I have
played with a rope all my life."
Dobson had come in with his friends, and he stood and glared. Elgert
came in, and looked angry. This new boy was evidently on the way
to become a favourite in the school, and, unless something was
done, he might rival them. Though just then they did not speak to
each other about it, both Dobson and Elgert arrived at the same
conclusion--namely, that something should be done, and that Ralph
Rexworth should be humbled and disgraced.
Then Warren suggested a spin, and of course Charlton went, and two or
three other boys--who found Ralph very good company--had to come too;
and since they did come, they could not ignore the boy they had all
neglected in the past. Poor Charlton, he could hardly understand it, it
almost frightened him!
It was delightful out in the fields, in the fresh morning, with the dew
still sparkling on the leaves, and with the air full of the songs of
the wild birds. There is a charm and sweetness and delight about the
early morning which they who are late risers have no idea of. It sets
the nerves tingling and the blood dancing, and makes one feel as if he
were walking on air, and not on solid earth.
Away they went across the playing field, and out on the common, on
towards Great Stow; arms well back, shoulders square, bodies gently
sloped, going with good, long, swinging strides.
Ralph was in his element now, for running, equally with rope work, was
an accomplishment practised by all those amongst whom he had lived. A
very necessary accomplishment, seeing that the ability to run swiftly,
and to keep up without fagging, might mean all the difference between
life and death in a land where the natives were quarrelsome and quite
ready to go upon the warpath upon the least provocation.
Some of the boys outstripped him at the first go off, but he kept on
running low, swinging well from the hips, and those who had gone with
a spurt at first soon found that he could, to use Warren's expression,
"run circles round them, and then beat them hollow."
But presently Ralph slackened his speed, for he had noticed that
Charlton was fagged, and he--having pledged himself to be the boy's
chum--was not going to desert him. The rest were by no means sorry to
stop; for though their pride would not allow them to give in, they
had all had nearly enough of it. And panting, laughing, happy in all
their youthful strength and spirits, they pulled up and wiped the
perspiration from their foreheads.
"Let us go over to Tibb's Farm, and get a drink of milk; and then
we must be getting back, or we shall get slated and be late for
breakfast, and that won't do," directed Warren, and the others agreed.
The farm was but a short distance away, and it was evident that this
visit was nothing out of the ordinary; for the farmer's wife smiled,
and produced tumblers of milk and wedges of cake, and charged the boys
a penny each--which certainly was not exorbitant.
And the way they got rid of that cake! And they were going home to
breakfast!--ay, and would be able to eat it, too, cake notwithstanding!
So much results from getting up early!
Perhaps it was because of his exhibition with the rope--perhaps it was
the run; but as Ralph sat there his thoughts went back to his trouble.
How often had he been out in the early morning on the hot plains alone
with his father! And how once when the grass caught fire, they had to
run for dear life and take shelter in the creek until the fiery sea had
swept by! And now, now, where--oh, where--was that father? It would
come back, try to be as brave as he would. It would come back, and his
heart would suddenly fill with pain, and cry out for that lost father.
"Time's up!" sang out Warren, stuffing the last of his cake into his
mouth. "Now, you fellows, come on!"
Off they went with a whoop and hallo! Perhaps not quite so fast now,
for cake and milk interfere somewhat with scudding. And Ralph, now with
his chum and Warren, suddenly stopped, staring hard on the ground.
His companions could see nothing, and looked at him in surprise. Their
eyes had never been trained to read the surface of the earth. But Ralph
had suddenly lighted upon a freshly made trail. A trap had gone along
here--a light trap, like that which had left those other traces in Stow
Wood; and this trap, like that again, had been drawn by a horse lame in
its left forefoot!