THE SUPPER CLUB.
As this story is to be a history of the Triple Alliance, and not of The
Birches, it will be necessary to pass over many things which happened
at the preparatory school, in order that full justice may be done to the
important parts played by our three friends in an epoch of strange and
stirring events at Ronleigh College.
Diggory, by the daring exploit described in the previous chapter, won
all hearts; and instead of being looked upon as a new boy, was regarded
quite as an old and trusty comrade. Acton displayed marked favour
towards the Triple Alliance, and was even more friendly with Diggory and
Jack Vance than with his room and class mates, Shaw and Morris.
The Philistines seemed, for the time being, paralyzed by the humiliation
of their mud bath, and for many months there was a complete cessation
from hostilities.
It was perhaps only natural that in time of peace a brave knight like
Acton should turn his thoughts from war to love-making, and therefore I
shall make no excuse for relating a little experience of his which
must be introduced as a prelude to the account of the formation of the
famous supper club.
At the very commencement of the summer term it was plain to everybody
that something was wrong with the dux; he seemed to take no interest in
the doings of his companions in the playground, and only once roused
himself sufficiently to bang Cross with a leg-guard for bowling awful
wides at cricket.
At length, one afternoon, Diggory and Jack Vance on entering the shed
found him sitting on the carpenter's bench, with his chin resting in his
hand, and a most ferocious expression on his face.
"Hullo! what's up?"
Acton stared blankly at the new-comers until the question had been
repeated; then he sat up and straightened his back with the air of one
who has made a great resolve.
"I don't mind telling you two," he said. "You know I've said before that
I meant some day to propose to Miss Eleanor. Well," he added, stabbing
the bench with the gimlet, "I'm going to do it."
"I've saved five and ninepence," continued the speaker, "to buy a ring
with, but I can't make up my mind whether I'd better speak or write to
her. What do you think?"
"I should say," answered Diggory, after a moment's thought, "that the
best thing would be to toss up for it."
"All right; have you got a coin?"
"No, but I think I've got a brass button. Yes, here it is. Now, then,
front you speak, and back you write. There you are--it's a letter!"
"Well, now," said Acton, getting off the bench and sticking his hands
deep in his trousers pockets, "what had I better say? I shall be
fifteen in August; I thought I'd tell her my age, and say I didn't mind
waiting."
"I believe it's the girl who always says that," answered Jack Vance,
kicking a bit of wood into a corner.
"Then, again, I don't know how to begin. Would you say 'Dear Miss
Eleanor,' or 'Dear Miss Welsby'? I think 'Dear Eleanor' sounds rather
cheeky."
"I'll tell you what I should do," answered Diggory, who seemed to have a
great idea of letting the fates decide these matters: "I should write
'em all three on slips of paper and then draw one."
"Well, I'm going to write the letter in 'prep' this evening, and let her
have it to-morrow. Did you notice I gave her a flower this morning, and
she stuck it in her dress?"
"Yes; but fellows are often doing that," answered Jack Vance, "and she
always wears them, either in her dress or stuck up somehow under her
brooch."
"Oh, but this was a white rose, and a white rose means something, though
I don't know what. At all events, she'll have the letter to-morrow, and
I'll tell you fellows when I give it her, only of course you mustn't
breathe a word to any one else."
"All right: we won't," answered Diggory, "except to old Mugford, because
he's one of the Alliance, and we've sworn not to have any secrets from
each other, and he won't split."
That evening the Triple Alliance lay awake until a late hour discussing
the situation. Mugford's opening comment was certainly worth
recording,--
"I hope she'll accept him."
"Why?"
"Why, because if she does, I should think old Welsby'll give us a
half-holiday."
It was evident at breakfast, to those who were in the know, that Acton
was prepared for the venture. He was wearing a clean collar and new
necktie, and ate only four pieces of bread and butter, besides his
bacon.
"He's shown me the letter," whispered Diggory to Jack Vance; "only I
promised I wouldn't say what was in it, but it ends up with a piece of
poetry as long as this table!"
After morning school was the time agreed upon for the dux to cast the
die which was to decide his future; and as soon as the classes were
dismissed, Jack Vance and Diggory met him by appointment in one corner
of the garden.
"I've done it," he said, looking awfully solemn. "She was in the hall,
and I gave it to her as I came out. I say, how many _t's_ are there in
'attachment'?"
Jack Vance thought one, Diggory said two; and the company then relapsed
into silence, and stood with gloomy looks upon their faces, as though
they were waiting to take part in a funeral procession.
At length a voice from the house was heard calling, "Fred--Fred Acton!"
The dux turned a trifle pale, but pulling himself together, marched off
with a firm step to learn his fate.
"She called him Fred," murmured Diggory; "that sounds hopeful."
"Oh, that's nothing," answered Jack Vance; "Miss Eleanor always calls
fellows by their Christian names. There's one thing," he added, after a
few moments' thought--"if she'd cut up rough over the letter, she might
have called him Mr. Acton. Hullo, here he comes!" As he spoke Acton
emerged from the house, and came down the path towards them; his straw
hat was tilted forward over his eyes, and his cheeks were glowing like
the red glass of a dark-room lamp. He sauntered along, kicking up the
gravel with the toe of his boot.
"Well, what happened?" inquired Jack Vance.
No answer.
"What's the matter ?" cried Diggory; "what did she say?"
"Why, this!" answered the other, in a voice trembling with suppressed
emotion: "she said I was a silly boy, and--and--_gave me a lump of
cake!_"
If any one else had done it, the probability is Acton would have slain
them on the spot. Diggory opened his eyes and mouth wide, and then
exploded with laughter. "Oh my!" he gasped, "I shall die, I know I
shall! Ha, ha, ha!"
Acton eyed him for a moment with a look of indignant astonishment; then
he began to smile, Jack Vance commenced to chuckle, and very soon all
three were laughing in concert.
"Well, I think it's rather unfeeling of you fellows," said the rejected
suitor; "I can tell you I'm jolly cut up about it."
"I'm awfully sorry," answered Diggory, "but I couldn't help laughing.
Cheer up; why, think, you won't have to get the ring now, so you can do
what you like with that five and ninepence you saved. Why, it's worth
being refused to have five and ninepence to spend in grub!"
"Ah, Diggy !" said the other, shaking his head in a mournful manner,
"wait till you're as old as I am: when you're close on fifteen you'll
think differently about love and all that sort of thing."
As has already been hinted, it was the failure of this attempt on the
part of the dux to win the heart and hand of Miss Eleanor that
indirectly brought about the formation of the famous supper club.
About a week after the events happened which have just been described,
Acton invited the Triple Alliance to meet the "House of Lords" in the
work-shed, to discuss an important scheme which he said had been in his
mind for some days past; and the door having been locked to exclude
outsiders, he commenced to unfold his project as follows:--
"I've been thinking that during the summer term, and while the weather's
warm, our two rooms might form a supper club. We'd hold it, say, once a
week, when pocket-money is given out, and have a feed together; one time
in your room, and the next in ours, after every one's gone to bed.
You know I saved some money at the beginning of the term to buy an
engagement ring with; but I don't want it now, so I'm going to spend the
tin in grub, and if you like I'll stand the first feed."
There was a murmur expressive of approbation at this generous offer,
mingled with sympathy for the unhappy circumstance which gave rise to
it, and which was now an open secret.
"Oh," said Shaw, "that's a grand idea! I know my brother Bob, who's at
a big school at Lingmouth, told me that he and some other chaps formed a
supper club and held it in his study. It's by the sea, and they used to
go out and catch shrimps; and they only had one old coffee-pot, that
they used to boil over the gas; so they cooked the shrimps in it first,
and made the coffee after. One night they only had time to heat it up
once, and so they boiled the shrimps in the coffee; and Bob says they
didn't taste half bad, and that they always used to do it after, to save
time."
"Well, I propose that we have one," cried Morris.
The resolution was carried unanimously. Acton was elected president,
and by way of recognizing the mutual interest of the Triple Alliance,
Jack Vance was appointed to act as secretary, and it was decided to hold
the first banquet on the following night.
"We can buy the grub to-morrow," said Acton; "but there's one thing we
ought to fetch to-day, and that is, I thought we might have, say, six
bottles of ginger-beer. Then each man must take his own up to bed with
him this evening, and hide it away in his box or in one of his drawers."
This was accordingly done, and, as it happened, was the cause of the
only disaster which attended the formation of the club. For the first
week in June the weather was unusually hot: a candle left all day
in the "Main-top" was found drooping out of the perpendicular, and when
the Triple Alliance retired to rest their bedroom felt like an oven.
They were just dozing off to sleep, when all three were suddenly
startled by a muffled bang somewhere close to them. In an instant they
were sitting up in bed, rubbing their eyes with one hand and grasping
their pillows with the other.
"Look out, they're coming!" whispered Jack Vance; "wasn't that something
hit the door?"
"It sounded as if something fell on the floor," answered Diggory.
"I wonder if anything's rolled off either of the washstands."
Jack Vance reconnoitred the passage, while Diggory and Mugford examined
the room; but nothing could be found to account for the disturbance.
"It must have been the fellows in the 'Main-top.' I expect they dropped
a book or upset a chair. Don't let's bother about it any more."
The following morning, however, the mystery was explained. The boys
were hastily putting on their clothes, when Mugford, who had just thrown
aside a dirty collar, gave vent to an exclamation of dismay, which
attracted the attention of his two companions.
"Hullo! what's up?"
"Why, look here! If this beastly bottle of ginger-beer hasn't gone and
burst in the middle of my box!"
The first meeting of the supper club was a great success. How ever
Acton and his noble friends had managed to smuggle upstairs, under their
jackets, a pork-pie, a plum-cake, a bag of tarts, and a pound of
biscuits, was a feat which, as Jack Vance remarked, "beat conjuring."
Shortly after midnight the Triple Alliance wended their way to the
"House of Lords," where they found the three other members quite ready
to commence operations. The good things were spread out on the top of a
chest of drawers, and the company ranged themselves round on the
available chairs and two adjacent beds, and commenced to enjoy the
repast.
"Ah, well," sighed Acton, with his mouth full of pork-pie, "I'm rather
glad for some things that I didn't get engaged. It must be rather a
bore having to spend all your money in rings and that sort of thing,
instead of in grub; though I really think I'd have given up grub for
Miss Eleanor."
"I wonder," said Morris, who was of a more prosaic disposition, "how it
is that it's always much jollier having a feed when you ought not to
than at the proper time. For instance, eating this pork-pie at a table,
with knife and fork and a plate, wouldn't be a quarter the fun it is
having it like we're doing now--cutting it with a razor out of Acton's
dressing-case, and knowing that if we were cobbed we should get into a
jolly row."
"Talking about rows over feeds," said Acton, "my brother John is at
Ronleigh College, and I remember, soon after he went there, he said they
had a great spree in his dormitory. One of the chaps had had a hamper
sent him, and they smuggled the grub upstairs; and when they thought the
coast was clear, they spread a sheet on the floor, and laid out the grub
as if it were on a table-cloth. The fellow who was standing treat was
rather a swell in his way, and among other things he'd got his jam put
out in a flat glass dish. It was a fine feed, and they'd just begun,
when they heard some one coming. They'd only just got time to turn out
the gas and jump into bed before the door opened, and in came one of the
masters called Weston. Well, of course, they all pretended to be
asleep. But the master had heard them scrambling about, and he walked
in the dark up the aisle between the beds, saying, 'Who's been out of
bed here?' Then all of a sudden he stuck his foot into the glass
jam-dish, and it slid along the floor, and down he came bang in the
middle of all the spread. John said that when the gas was lit they
couldn't help laughing at old Weston: he'd rammed one elbow into a box
of sardines, and there was a cheese-cake stuck in the middle of his
back. But oh, there was a row, I can tell you!"
This yarn produced others, and the time passed pleasantly enough, until
full justice had been done to the provisions, and hardly a crumb
remained.
"Phew! isn't it hot?" said Diggory; "let's open the window a bit.
The moon must be full," he continued, as he raised the sash; "it's
nearly as light as day. I can see all down the garden, and--hullo!
quick, put the candle out!"
Every one started to his feet, and the light was extinguished in a
moment.
"What is it--what's the matter?" they all asked. "There's some one in
the playground," whispered Diggory, as the others crowded round him.
"You see the door at the bottom of the garden; well, just when I spoke
some one opened it and looked up at the house, and then shut it again.
It must have been Blake, and he's seen our light."
"It can't be Blake," answered Acton; "he's gone to Fenley to play in a
cricket match, and isn't coming back till to-morrow morning. Old Welsby
went to bed hours ago; and, besides, what should either of them want to
be doing down there at this time of night? You must have been dreaming,
Diggy."
"No, I wasn't; I saw it distinctly. It must be old Blake. He's come
home sooner than he expected, and I shouldn't wonder if he's going
round by the road to take us by surprise."
"He can't do that," answered Acton, "because I've got the key of the
shed, and the door-key's hung up inside."
Acton remained watching at the window while the others hastily cleared
away all traces of the feast; the Triple Alliance retired to their own
room, and nothing further was heard or seen of the mysterious visitor.
The next morning it was discovered that Mr. Blake had not returned from
Fenley, and the five other members of the supper club were inclined to
regard Diggory's vision of the midnight intruder as a sort of waking
nightmare, resulting from an overdose of cake and pork-pie. Two days
later Cross came into the schoolroom in a great state of excitement.
"Look here, you fellows," he exclaimed: "some one keeps taking away my
things out of the shed, and not putting them back. Last week I missed a
saw and two chisels, and now that brace and nearly all the bits are
gone. It's a jolly shame!"
Carpentering was Cross's great hobby, and his collection of tools was an
exceptionally good one, both as regards quantity and quality. Every
one, however, denied having touched the things mentioned. A general
search was made; but the missing articles could not be found, and at
length the matter was reported to Mr. Welsby.
The latter was evidently greatly displeased on hearing the facts of the
case. As soon as dinner was over he called the school together, and
after standing for some moments in silence, frowning at the book he
carried in his hand, said briefly,--
"With regard to these tools, there is a word which has never been used
before in connection with any pupil at The Birches, and which I hope I
may never have occasion to use again. I can hardly think it possible
that we have a _thief_ in the house. I am rather inclined to imagine
that some one has removed the things and hidden them away in joke; if
so, let me tell him that the joke has been allowed to go too far, and
that, unless they are returned at once, a shadow of doubt will be cast
upon the honour and integrity of all here present. It is impossible for
such large articles as a saw and a brace to be mislaid or lost on such
small premises as these, and I trust that before this evening you will
report to me that the things have been found. I have purposely allowed
the key of the shed to remain in your own possession, feeling certain
that your behaviour as regards each other's property would be in
accordance with the treatment which one gentleman expects to receive
from another. You may go."
There was little in the nature of a scolding in this address, and yet
something in it caused every one to leave the room in a state of great
excitement. Acton and Jack Vance especially fairly boiled with wrath.
"What old Welsby says is quite right," remarked the latter; "and until
those things are found, we may all be looked upon as thieves."
The search, however, proved fruitless; and, what was worse, in turning
over the contents of the shed, Acton discovered that a bull's-eye
lantern belonging to himself had disappeared from the shelf on which it
usually stood; while Mugford declared that a box of compasses, which he
had brought down a few days before to draw a pattern on a piece of
board, was also missing.
Directly after tea Acton button-holed Diggory, and taking him aside
said, "Look here, I'm in an awful rage about these thing's being
prigged, because, of course, I've got the key of the shed; and didn't
you hear what old Welsby said about it? It looks uncommonly as if I
were the thief. You remember what you said the other night when we had
that feed, about seeing that man? D'you think there _is_ any one who
comes here at night and steals things?"
"Well, I'm certain I saw some one in the playground when I told you.
It was a man; but whether he comes regularly and goes into the shed I
don't know, but I think we ought to be able to find out."
"How?"
"Oh, some way or other; I'll tell you to-morrow." That night, long
after the rest of the house were asleep, the Triple Alliance lay awake
engaged in earnest conversation; and in the morning, as the boys were
assembling for breakfast, Diggory touched Acton on the shoulder and
whispered,--
"I say, we've thought of a plan to find out if any one goes into the
shed at night."
"Who's 'we'?"
"Why, the Triple Alliance; we thought it out between us. Sneak out of
the house directly after evening 'prep,' and meet me in the playground,
and I'll show you what it is."
At the time appointed Acton ran down the path, and found Diggory waiting
for him by the shed.
"Look," said the latter, "I've cut a little tiny slit with my knife in
each door-post, about three feet from the ground, and I'm going to
stretch this piece of black cotton between them. No one will see it,
and if they go through the door, the thread will simply draw out of one
of the slits without their noticing it, and we shall see that it's been
disturbed. Jack Vance says that when he's been out shooting with his
guv'nor he's seen the keeper put them across the paths in a wood to find
out if poachers have been up them. Now unlock the door, and let's go
inside."
In front of the bench, where the ground had been much trodden, there was
a great deal of loose dust. Diggory went down on his hands and knees,
and producing an old clothes-brush from his pocket, swept about a square
yard of the ground until the dust lay in a perfectly smooth surface.
"There," he said, rising to his feet again; "we'll do this the last
thing every night, and any morning if we find the cotton gone we must
look here for footprints, and then we ought to be able to tell if it's
a man or a boy."
"Don't you think we ought to tell Blake about that man you saw?" asked
Acton, as they walked back to the schoolroom.
"Well, I don't see how we can," answered Diggory. "The first thing
he'll ask will be,' Who saw him?' I shall say, 'I did;' and then he'll
want to know how I saw the playground door from my bedroom window, which
looks out on the road; and then the fat'll be in the fire, and it'll all
come out about that supper."
Regularly every evening, as soon as supper was over, the two boys stole
down into the playground to set their trap; but when morning came there
was no sign of the shed having been entered. This went on for nearly a
month, but still no result.
"I don't think it's any good bothering about it any more," said Acton;
"the thief doesn't mean to come again."
"Well, we'll set it to-night," answered Diggory, "and that shall be the
last time."
The following morning Acton was sauntering towards the playground, when
Diggory came running up the path in a state of great excitement.
"I say, the cotton's gone!"
Acton rushed down, unlocked the door of the shed, and went inside.
"Hullo!" he exclaimed, as Diggory followed; "_it is_ some man. Look at
these footprints, and hobnailed boots into the bargain!"