THE school-ground next morning at nine o'clock showed little of its usual
activity. Most of the boys were gathered near Sam Brierly's Gothic
portico, now in unpicturesque ruins and hanging limply to the school
front like an excrescence. Here Richard Haddon and Edward McKnight were
standing in attitudes of extreme unconcern, heroes and objects of
respectful admiration, but nevertheless inwardly ill at ease and
possessed with sore misgivings. Some of their mates were offering sage
advice on a matter that concerned them most nearly: how to take cuts from
a cane so as to receive the least possible amount of hurt. Peterson was
full of valuable information.
'See, you stan' so,' he said, giving rather a good imitation of an
unhappy scholar in the act of receiving condign punishment, 'holdin' yer
hand like this, you know, keepin' yer eye on Jo; an' jes' when his nibs
comes down you shoves yer hand forwards, that sort, an' it don't hurt fer
sour apples.'
'Don't cut no more'n nothin' at all,' added the boy 'who was called
Moonlight, in cheerful corroboration.
Ted, who was very pale, and had a hunted look in his eyes, nodded his
head hopefully, and rehearsed the act with pathetic gravity.
The little girls, who should have been at the other end of the ground,
clustered at the corner and peeped round the portico, some giggling,
others fully seized of the gravity of the situation. Dick in spite of his
fine air of sang froid was well aware that there was one little girl
there, a pretty little girl of about ten, with brown hair and dark
serious eyes, who was suffering keenest apprehensions on his behalf, and
who would weep with quite shameless abandonment when it came to his turn
to endure the torments Mr. Joel Ham knew so well how to inflict. Dick was
rather superior to little girls; his tender sentiment was usually
lavished on ladies ten or twelve years his senior; but he could not hide
from himself the fact that Kitty Grey's affection, however hopeless it
might be, was at times most gratifying. Once he had resented its
manifestations with bitterness, imagining that they were likely to bring
him into contempt and undermine his authority; and when she interfered in
his memorable fight with Bill Cole and fiercely attacked his opponent
with a picket, cutting his head and incapacitating him for fighting for
the rest of the day, he felt that he could never forgive her. She had
violated the rule of battle and outraged the noble principle of fair
play; and, worse and worse, had disgraced him in the eyes of the world by
making him appear as a weakling seeking protection behind a despised
petticoat. He reviled Kitty for that action in such overwhelming language
that the poor girl fled in tears, and next day it was only with the
greatest difficulty that she persuaded him to accept two pears and a
blood-alley as a peace offering.
Dolf Belman came later with a little comfort.
'Gotter junk o' rosum,' he said, fumbling in his school-bag.
'Hoo! have you though?' said Parrot Cann. 'Rosum's great. Put some on my
hand oust when I went to ole Pepper's school at Yarraman, an' near died
laughin' when he gave me twenty cuts fer copy-in' me sums.'
The boys clustered about Dolf, who produced a piece of resin about the
size of a hen's egg, and waved it triumphantly.
'You pound it up wif a rock,' said he confidently, 'an' rub it on yer
hands.'
The pounding process was begun at once, amidst a babel of opinions. It
was a fond illusion amongst the boys that resin so applied deadened the
effects of the cane. It had been tried scores of times without in the
least mitigating the agony of Ham's cuts, but the faith of youth is not
easily shaken; so Ted's spirits revived wonderfully, and Dick developed a
keen interest in the pounding. Dolf pulverised the 'rosum,' declaring
that it should be powdered in one particular way which was a great secret
known only to a happy few. If it were powdered in any other way, the
resin lost its efficacy as a protection, and might even aggravate the
pain. Several boys volunteered testimony in support of Dolf's claim,
telling of the strange immunity they had enjoyed on various occasions
after applying the resin, and Peter Queen distinctly remembered 'a feller
up to Clunes' who, by a judicious use of the powder, was enabled to defy
all authority and preserve an attitude of hilarious derision under the
most awful tortures.
'This here cove he useter have hisself rubbed all over wif rosum every
mornin', then he'd go to school an' kick up ole boots. What'd he care? My
word, he was a terror!'
Dolf took up the theme, and enlarged upon the virtues of resin,
particularly that resin of his, which was the very best kind of resin for
the purpose and had been specially commended by an old swaggie with one
eye, who gave it to him for a four-bladed knife and a clay pipe. So great
was the effect of these representations that before Dick and Ted had
transferred the powder to their pockets they had become objects of envy
rather than commiseration, and one or two of their mates would gladly
have changed places with them on the spot.
'Wouldn't care if I was in fer it, 'stead o' you, Dick,' said Peterson.
'Mus' be an awful lark to have Hamlet layin' it on, an' you not feelin'
it all the time.'
'My oath I' said Jacker Mack feelingly.
'Good morning, boys.'
Joel Ham, B.A., had stolen in amongst them, and stood there in an odd
crow-like attitude, his mottled face screwed into an expression of
quizzical amiability, and his daily bottle sticking obtrusively from the
inside lining of his old coat. The lads scattered sheepishly.
'Peterson,' he said, blinking his pale lashes a dozen times in rapid
succession, 'the boy who thinks he can outwit his dear master is an
egotist, and egotism, Peterson, is the thing which keeps us from
profiting by the experiences of other fools.'
'I dunno what yer talkin' about,' answered Peter son, with heavy
resentment.
Mr. Ham blinked again for nearly half a minute.
'Of course not,' he said, 'of course not, my boy.' Then he turned to Dick
and Ted with quiet courtesy. 'Good morning, Richard. Good morning,
Edward.'
Ted, who was painfully conscious of the large ink-splashes on the
master's white trousers, kicked awkwardly at a buried stone, but Dick
replied cheerily enough.
The attitude of the master throughout that morning was quite inexplicable
to the scholars; he made no allusion whatever to the crimes of which Dick
and Ted had been guilty, and gave no hint that he harboured any
intentions that were not entirely generous and friendly. The two
culprits, working with quite astounding assiduity, were beset with
conflicting emotions. Dick, who had a vague sort of insight into the
master's character, was prepared for the worst, and yet not blind to the
possibility of a free pardon. Ted, after the first hour, was joyous and
over-confident.
Mr. Peterson called during the morning and conferred with Joel for a few
minutes. The gaping school knew what that meant, and awaited the out come
with the most anxious interest. Mr. Peterson, a six-foot Dane, an
engine-driver at the Stream, and Billy's father, was volunteering for
service in case Mr. Ham should need assistance in dealing with the two
culprits; but Joel sent him away, and the boys breathed freely again.
Their confidence in Dolf's 'rosum' did not leave them quite blind to the
advantages of an amicable settlement of their little difference with Mr.
Ham.
It was not until the boys were marching out for the dinner hour,
satisfied at last all was well, that Joel seemed suddenly to recollect,
and he called after Ted, blighting the poor youth's new-born happiness
and filling his small soul with a great apprehension.
'Teddy,' he called, 'you will remain, my boy. I have private business
with you--private and confidential, Teddy.'
So Ted fell out and stood by the wall, a very monument of dejection.
When school met again the scholars noted that the ink-stains had been
carefully washed and scraped from the wall and the floor, and they found
Ted McKnight sprawling in his place, his head buried in his arms, dumb
and unapproachable. If a mate came too close, moved by curiosity or a
desire to offer sympathy, Ted lashed out at him with his heels. For the
time being he was a small but cankered misanthrope full of vengeful
schemes, and only one person in the whole school envied him. That person
was Richard Haddon, whose turn was yet to come.
An hour passed and Dick had received no hint of the trouble in store.
Then Joel Ham, prowling along the desks, inspecting a task, stopped
before the boy and stood eyeing him with the curiosity with which an
entomologist might regard a rare grub, clawing his thin whiskers the
while. The interest he felt was apparently of the most friendly
description.
'Ah, Ginger,' he said, 'I had almost forgotten that I am still your
debtor. This way, Ginger, please.'
He stood Dick on his high stool, carefully tied the boy's ankles with a
strap, and gave him a large slate, on which his faults were emblazoned in
chalk, to hold up for the inspection of the classes; and so he left him
for the remainder of the afternoon, every now and again pausing in his
vicinity to deliver some incomprehensible sentiment or a sarcastic
homily. This performance affected all the scholars, but it excited Gable
so much that the little old man could do nothing but sit and stare at
Dick with round eyes and open mouth, and mutter 'Oh, crickie!' in a
frightened way. The little dark-eyed girl in the Third Class bore the
ordeal badly, too, and every speech of the master's started a large tear
rolling down her dimpled brown cheek.
When the rest of the youngsters marched out, Dick Haddon remained on his
high perch. Kitty Grey, who brought up the tail of the procession, turned
at the door and walked back to the master timorously and with downcast
eyes; and Dick felt that a plea was to be made on his behalf, but could
not hear what followed.
'Please, sir, if you won't cane him very much I'll give you this,' said
Kitty.
The bribe was a small brooch that had originally contained the letters of
the little girl's first name. It was a very cheap brooch when new, and
now some of the letters were gone and the gilt was worn off, but it was
still a priceless treasure in Kitty's eyes. Joel Ham examined the gift,
and then looked down upon the petitioner, his face pulled sideways into
its familiar withered grin.
Do you know this is bribery, little Miss Grey,' he said, 'bribery and
corruption?'
Ye-es, please, sir,' said Kitty.
'And do you know that that fellow up there is a monster of infamy, a
rebel and a riotous blackguard, who must be repressed in the interests of
peace and good government?'
'Yes, please, sir; but--but he's only a little fellow.' The master's
tremendous words seemed to call for this reminder.
Joel screwed his grin down another wrinkle or two.
'Yet you intercede for the ruffian try to buy him off, and at a
valuation, too, that proves you to be deaf to the voice of reason and
utterly improvident.'
'Oh, Mr. Ham, he didn't mean it--really, he didn't mean it!
Joel screwed out another wrinkle. His mirth always increased wrinkle by
wrinkle, until at times it appeared as if he were actually going to screw
his own neck by sheer force of repressed hilarity.
'I am incorruptible, Miss Grey,' he said. 'Take back your precious jewel;
but I promise you this, my dear, our friend Dick shall not get as much as
he deserves. Boys are like some metals, Miss Kitty, their temper is
improved by hammering.'
Kitty left the master, entirely in the dark as to the effect of her
intercession; but evidently it was not of much advantage to Dick. When
the boy came from the school about half an hour later, he carried his
chin high, his lips were compressed tightly, and he stared straight
ahead. Three faithful friends who had waited to know the worst joined
him, but no words were spoken. They followed at his heels, showing by
their silence due respect for a profound emotion. Dick did not make for
home; he turned off to the right and led the way down into one of the
large quarries on the flat, and there turned a flushed face and a pair of
flashing eyes upon his mates.
'I'm going to have it out of Ham,' he said. 'I don't care! He's a dog,
and he ain't goin' to do as he likes with me.'
'How many, Dick?' asked Ted eagerly.
'Dunno,' said Dick, exposing his hands; 'he jus' cut away till he was
tired, chi-ikin' me all the time. But I'll get even, you see!'
Dick's palms were very puffy; there were a couple of blue blisters on his
fingers, and across each wrist an angry-looking white wheal. The boys
were sufficiently impressed, and, in spite of his wrath against Joel Ham,
Dicky could not resist a certain gratification on that account. Boys take
much pride in the sufferings they have borne, and their scars are always
exhibited with a grave conceit. Ted displayed his hands, still betraying
evidence of the morning's caning, and Jacker Mack spoke feelingly of
stripes and bruises remaining since Tuesday. Peterson was the only one
quite free from mark or brand of the master's, and he recollected many
thrashings with extreme bitterness, and was quite in sympathy with the
party.
'What say if we give him a scare?' said Dick. 'Are you on?'
Jacker and Ted were dubious. It was too sudden; their recent experiences
had made them unusually respectful of the master. Dick marked the
hesitation, and said scornfully:
'Oh, you fellows needn't be afraid. You won't be let in for it. I know a
trick that's quite safe--bin thinkin' about it all the afternoon.'
If Dick were quite sure it was safe, and if there were not the smallest
possible chance of their complicity being disclosed, Jacker and Ted were
quite agreeable. Peterson was always agreeable for adventure, however
absurd. Dick explained:
'Hamlet's gone down to the pub. He's sure to get screwed to-night.
There's a fool feller there from McInnes, knockin' down a cheque an'
shoutin' mad. Hamlet'll get his share in spite of all, an' he'll be as
tight as a brick by ten o'clock. You know my joey 'possum? Well, I'll fix
him up into the awfullest kind of a blue devil, with feathers an' things.
We'll push him into Jo's room, and when Jo comes home an' strikes a light
he'll spot him, an' think he's got delirious trimmens again. That'll give
him a shakin'.'
'My oath, won't it!' ejaculated Peterson.
Jacker was elated, and grinned far and wide.
'P'raps he'll go nippin' round, thinkin' he's chased by 'em like he did
las' Christmas holidays,' suggested the elder McKnight gleefully.
This villainous scheme was the result of the boys' extraordinary
familiarity with many phases of drunkenness. Waddy was a pastoral as well
as a mining centre, and strange ribald men came out of the bush at
intervals to 'melt' their savings at the Drovers' Arms. The Yarraman
sale-yards for cattle and sheep were near Waddy too, and brought dusty
drovers and droughty stockmen in crowds to the town ship every Tuesday.
These men were indiscreet and indiscriminate drinkers, and often a
vagrant was left behind to finish a spree that surrounded him with
unheard-of reptiles and strange kaleidoscopic animals unknown to the
zoologist. It must be admitted, too, that Joel Ham, B.A., was in a
measure responsible for the boys' unlawful knowledge. Twice at holiday
times, when he was not restricted at the Drovers' Arms, he had continued
his libations until it was necessary for his own good and the peace of
the place to tie him down in his bunk and set a guard over him; and on
one of these occasions he had created much excitement by rushing through
the township at midnight, scantily clad, under the impression that he was
being pursued by a tall dark gentleman in a red cloak and possessed of
both horns and hoofs.
It was nearly nine o'clock that night when the four conspirators met to
carry out their nefarious project. Dick was carrying a bag--in which was
the joey--a bull's-eye lantern, various coloured feathers, and other
small necessaries, and the party hastened in the direction of Mr. Ham's
humble residence. Ham was 'a hatter'--he lived alone in a secluded place
on the other side of the quarries. The house was large for Waddy, and had
once been a boarding-house, but was now little better than a ruin. The
schoolmaster had reclaimed one room, furnished it much like a miner's
but, with the addition of a long shelf of tattered books, and here he
'batched,' perfectly contented with his lot for all that Waddy could ever
discover to the contrary. There was no other house within a quarter of a
mile of the ruin, which was hemmed in with four rows of wattles, and
surrounded by a wilderness of dead fruit-trees--victims to the ravages of
the goats of the township--and a tangled scrub of Cape broom. The boys
approached the house with quite unnecessary caution, keeping along the
string of dry quarry-holes, and creeping towards the back door through
the thick growth as warily as so many Indians on the trail. Dick Haddon
cared nothing for an enterprise that had no flavour of mystery, and was
wont to invest his most commonplace undertakings with a romantic
significance. For the time being he was a wronged aboriginal king,
leading the remnants of his tribe to wreak a deadly vengeance on the
white usurper. A short conference was held in the garden.
'We'll go into one o' the old rooms, an' fix the joey up there. Then we
can wait till Hamlet comes, if yonse fellows 're game,' said Dick softly.
'I'm on,' whispered Peterson.
'He won't be long, I bet. McKnight, 'r Belman, 'r some o' the others is
sure to roust him out when he's properly tight. Foller me.'
Dick led the way up to the door, pushed it open, and entered. The others
were about to follow, but to their horror they saw a large figure start
forward from the pitch darkness beyond, heard an oath and the sound of a
blow, and saw Dick fall face downwards upon the floor. Then the door was
slammed from within, and the three terrorstricken boys turned and fled as
fast as their legs would carry them.
Dick lay upon the floor with outthrown arms, and the figure stood over
him in a listening attitude.
'Good God! 'ye you killed him?' cried someone in the far corner of the
room.
'Sh-h, you cursed fool!' hissed the big man.
'Who is it?' asked the other tremulously.
The big man seized Dick, and dragged him to where the grey moonlight
shone through a shattered window.
'Young Haddon,' he said. 'Blast the boy! a man never knows where he will
poke his nose next.'
'The others 'ye gone?'
'Yes. They were on'y boys.'
'Didn't I tell you it wouldn't do to be meetin' in places like this? No
more of it for me. They've been listenin', an' we're done men. We'll be
nabbed!'
'Shut up your infernal cackle! The boys hadn't any notion we was here.
They had some lark on. They couldn't have seen us--we're all right.'
'If they saw us together it'd be enough.'
'But they couldn't, I tell you. Here, clear out, the boy's comin' round.
Go the front way, an' make for the paddocks. I'll go up the gully. Look
slippy!'
A few seconds after the men had left the house Dick scrambled to his
feet, and stood for a moment in a confused condition of mind, rubbing his
injured head. Then he took up his hat and lantern, and stumbled from the
room. As yet he had only a vague idea of what had happened, and his head
felt very large and full of fly-wheels, as he expressed it later; but a
few moments in the open air served to revive him. Along by the big quarry
he met his mates returning. After talking the matter over they had come
to the conclusion that the schoolmaster had got a hint of their
intention, and had lain in wait. They gathered about Dick, whose forehead
was most picturesquely bedabbled with blood.
'Crikey! Dick,' cried the wondering Jacker, 'did he hammer you much?'
'Feel,' said Dick, guiding one hand after another to a lump on his head
that increased his height by quite an inch.
'Great Gosh!' murmured Peterson; 'ain't he a one-er? The beggar must 'a'
tried to murder you.'
Dick nodded.
'Yes,' he said; 'but 'twasn't Hamlet.'
'Go on!' The boys looked back apprehensively.
'No, 'twasn't. 'Twas a big feller. I dunno who; but he must 'a' bin a
bushranger, 'r a feller what's escaped from gaol, 'r someone. Did you
coves see which way he went?'
'No,' said Ted fearfully; and a simultaneous move was made towards the
township. The boys were not cowards, but they had plenty of discretion.
'Look here,' Dick continued impressively; 'no matter who 'twas, we've
gotter keep dark, see. If we don't it'll be found out what we was all up
to, an' we'll get more whack-o.'
The party was unanimous on this point; and when Dick returned home he
shocked his mother with a lively account of how he slipped in the quarry
and fell a great depth, striking his head on a rock, and being saved from
death only by the merest chance imaginable.