CHAPTER XIV

THE STRENUOUS LIFE

Sturton was as good as his word when he said he meant to work and to

make the rest of the school work with him.

"A regular nigger-driver," grumbled Masters, his face as long as a

fiddle as he read the announcement on the board in the corridor close to

the quad. "Listen to this. Here's a oner."

Very slowly, for he was not an expert at reading aloud, Masters gave the

crowd about him the contents of the notice. There was no doubt about it

either, bold though the innovation was. Sturton had put it down in big

black letters which there was no mistaking.

"Notice!" it read. "In future, with a view to bringing those at

Ranleigh to a condition of fitness, there will be compulsory

exercise for all daily. The head prefect of each dormitory will

present a list to the Captain at the end of each week, setting out

against the name of each boy what exercise he has taken daily. It

will be left to the honour of individual boys to make a truthful

return. Exercise may take the form of football, fives, running, or

gymnastics. At least an hour and a half must be spent at one of

these. For football boys may join their own dormitory scratch

games. For fives they may make up a four as formerly. In the Gym.

they will be under the direction of the sergeant. On Saturdays

there will be dormitory football, save when there is a school

match. Once a week there will be a school run.

"E. STURTON."

There it was in cold letters.

"When do we breathe and sleep?" gasped Masters, when he had assimilated

the whole of this momentous notice. "This means slavery."

"Rot!" ejaculated Bert, who happened to be near him. "It'll mean a deal

less loafing, less guzzling at the tuck, or round where the tuck-boxes

are kept, and a deal more fitness about the fellows."

"Hooray for Sturton! He means business."

It may be imagined that the innovation was discussed from every point of

view. There were plenty of fellows at Ranleigh who eagerly welcomed the

change.

"It's the best way of dealing with slackers without a doubt," said

Bagshaw. "Wish I could take part in the thing myself. By the way, of

course Sturton ought to put something about boys being excused who are

ill, and so on."

A second notice was pinned beneath the first without delay, which made

the position perfectly clear, while it showed that the Captain had no

idea of altering his decision.

"Those in the 'sick-room' will be shown as so in dormitory lists," it

ran. "Those permanently excused active exercise by doctor's orders will,

if fit for the same, carry goal-posts, referee, or otherwise make

themselves useful and interested in the games of their fellows. Absence

from the school will be the only other excuse taken."

"And what if we kick and decline to be run about by this fellow

Sturton?" asked Rawlings, who had now managed to chum up with one named

Norman, head prefect of West Dormitory, a somewhat sulky, nerveless

individual. It was a matter for wonder, in fact, how he had contrived to

ascend to the post of head prefect of West. Certainly his own ambitions

and efforts had not carried him to that exalted station. But he happened

to be a brilliant mathematician, and by no means backward in other

branches of his studies, and had therefore soon arrived at the Sixth

Form. Force of custom rather than anything else had made a prefect of

him. As a consequence, West, once noted for its brilliance in games, had

not improved under his leadership. If Norman could have his own way he

would have allowed matters to go on much as they were before Harvey took

the lead. He had grumbled then at the added energy required. He

positively growled when he had read Sturton's notice.

"What if we kick?" he repeated, for in Rawlings he found a ready and

sympathetic listener. "What'll he do? Can't kick the whole lot of us,

can he?"

"Then he'd have to grin and bear it," smiled Rawlings sardonically. "One

would think we'd come to Ranleigh to be at Sturton's beck and call.

Supposing a chap hates games; he's got to play 'em simply because of

this idiot. What will you do? Cave in?"

The question was artfully put. Rawlings made Norman believe that he

thought that such a course was only natural. In effect, he very strongly

hinted that Norman had no alternative, that he was too weak, and that he

was afraid of incurring Sturton's displeasure. And as may be imagined

with a sulky individual like Norman, opposed to active exercise of any

sort, sulkiness became swiftly stubbornness. From that instant Norman

made up his mind to oppose the captain of the school to the utmost

extent, in which decision he was secretly and actively encouraged and

helped by Rawlings.

"Of course, I'll have to send in this bothering weekly return," said

Norman, after a while, when the matter came up again for discussion.

"But that doesn't say that I'm going to bother whether the fellows have

actually been playing footer or fives or--what's the other, there's such

a heap of 'em?"

"Gym. Wonder it isn't skittles."

"Well, I shan't bother, and you can let the fellows know that."

West soon gathered the meaning of their prefect. For the benefit of that

dormitory, and to the credit of the majority of its members, it may be

stated that few availed themselves of the dark hints thrown out by

Rawlings. Sturton was a general favourite, and Ranleigh boys were wise

enough to see that a certain amount of exercise was good for everyone,

while it certainly helped to make them efficient in games and gave added

chances in school matches. _Esprit de corps_ was by no means dead in

West, and much to Norman's annoyance a goodly proportion of the boys

there followed Sturton's wishes to the very letter. A few did not. They

banded themselves on the side of Norman and Rawlings. At the Saturday

matches played between teams selected from individual dormitories the

play of the boys of West was marked by slovenliness on the part of some,

by desperate eagerness on the part of others. Even Sturton couldn't help

noticing the matter.

"It's that fellow Norman, with Rawlings behind him," said Bagshaw, who

was the Captain's right-hand man, just as he had been in the case of

Harvey. Bagshaw was, indeed, a born organiser and leader. Had he been

possessed of health and strength there was not the smallest doubt that

he would have been Ranleigh's Captain. But none but an active leader is

understood of schoolboys. Ranleigh liked and admired Bagshaw. Often

enough he was feared. But he was never admired as were Harvey and

Sturton.

"Pity, too," added Bagshaw. "Norman's a queer fellow, and wants

understanding. He can be as nice as possible if properly handled, and as

sulky as a bear if crossed. There's no doubt that he's made up his mind

to break this scheme you've started."

"Then he must stand by the consequences. But I'd be sorry to have an

upset. Look here, Bagshaw," said Sturton, "take an opportunity to speak

to him. Persuade him in a friendly way, and not as if I wished it, to

play the game and help the scheme. Everywhere else it has been

swallowed. Fellows are as keen as mustard, and what is more, I'm sure

they are happier. For there's always something to do now. It's too early

to speak yet, but the Head says he thinks the boys look better. You have

a chat with Norman."

No better envoy could have been selected. Bagshaw was a master of tact

and discretion, and it followed, therefore, that he allowed several days

to pass before accosting Norman, and even then it appeared to be a

purely accidental meeting. Moreover, the result of his tactful

discussion was, for the moment, excellent. Norman saw the error of his

ways. A strong character such as Bagshaw's easily appealed to and swayed

him. But there was Rawlings to reckon with, and that immaculate and

scheming gentleman rapidly set himself to work to upset all the good

Bagshaw had accomplished.

"So you're going to work in with Sturton?" he asked, with a sneering

smile, when Norman had confided in him. "Congratulations!"

"What else can a fellow do? He asked me," answered Norman lamely, half

apologetically, for Rawlings' sneers and gibes made him flinch.

"What else? Oh, nothing. Of course he asked you," said Rawlings

meaningly.

"Eh? Why?"

"Well, he couldn't do anything else, could he? Sturton can't compel.

This is a free country. Supposing you kicked? Why, we then come back to

the very question you asked when this tomfoolery was first started.

Supposing you kick? What can Sturton do?"

"Yes, I see; so we have. It's the same question over again," admitted

Norman.

"Well, and what can he do?"

Norman was floored. Rawlings had the peculiar power of always making him

feel as if he were a weakling and a fool, and as if others were getting

the best of him. He only wished that Bagshaw had had that discussion

with Rawlings, or when he was present. He felt angry with himself, and,

of a sudden, angry with Rawlings for his asserted superiority.

"Look here! You always know best what to do. Or think you do," he stated

bluntly. "What'd you do if you were in my place?"

"Not be led by the nose, that's one thing. Not allow the wind to blow me

both ways. Not give in as soon as I found out that a fellow was afraid

of me."

"Afraid of me! Sturton? Not he."

"Sturton, yes," said Rawlings, with another of those satirical smiles.

"Else why did he send Bagshaw to interview you? He knows you're kicking.

What can he do? He's floored. He's bound to send round and ask you to be

a good boy and help him."

"But--but Bagshaw didn't say that," replied Norman desperately. "He

pointed out that it was a pity that I should be the exception. He asked

me to think of the school."

"School be hanged!" declared Rawlings. "It's Sturton, Bagshaw's asked

you to think of. This is his pet scheme. Chaps have swallowed it because

they couldn't help. You hate it. Then why be a mug and let him win you

round with tales of the school and its honour, and so forth?"

All the good that Bagshaw had effected was destroyed in a few moments.

Norman was, as we have said, one of those vacillating fellows whose

opinions a breath will change. And here was Rawlings persuading him

against his better feelings, and persuading him, too, without much

difficulty. It may be said, indeed, that Rawlings had a perfect mastery

in that direction. It was a pity that he did not use his powers to

better purpose, while for the one he so easily twisted round his

fingers, it may be said that it was a pity in his case that Sturton did

not at once deal severely with him. For discipline and force are also

persuasive powers. There are many youths and men also who, when left to

their own devices, pursue a crooked line, their course marked by

tempers, perverseness, and ill-feeling. But, if compelled by a strong

hand, one they recognise as strong, run a course marked by its

directness, and distinguished by eagerness for their task, enthusiasm

for their leader, and the very best of tempers. Norman had it in him to

behave like that. As a leader, even in a small way, he was worse almost

than useless. Driven if need be, or led if he were wise, he could be a

most excellent ally.

However, for the moment he had been persuaded into opposing Sturton's

excellent scheme, and we must leave him and West Dormitory to their

devices.

Discussion in the ranks of the Old Firm waxed furious when first Sturton

posted his notice. But a few hours' contemplation, and some heated

arguments, soon made converts of them. Even Masters grumblingly assented

to the scheme.

"Awful nuisance, of course," he said. "But there's one thing."

"What's that?" demanded Bert.

"Exercise don't give time for impots. That beast Canning'll have to do

without 'em."

But, strangely enough, Masters began to escape impots. Seeing the energy

with which his friends threw themselves into the Captain's scheme, he

had perforce to do likewise, and to his own astonishment he found the

inclination to work in form time greater, the temptation to misbehave

less, while he was distinctly less inattentive. But there was something

more. He and Clive were deadly in earnest where football was concerned.

They played respectively inside and outside right in the forward line,

and but a few days from the beginning of the term had been lucky enough

to attract Sturton's attention.

"George!" he remarked to Bagshaw, always his close attendant. "Didn't

know those youngsters had it in them. At any rate, I didn't think

Masters could be half as fast. He stuffs so much one would think it

impossible. Look at 'em now. They've got the ball between them. Pretty!"

he shouted. "Well done, Masters and Darrell."

You could have dug a pin in deep without Clive flinching. So greatly was

he elated that he would easily have borne any suffering; while, as to

the pain of a pin prick, that was nothing. It was part of the entrance

rites of the Old Firm that a member must bear the thrust of a pin till

it was buried to the head, and that without flinching.

"Worth watching, those two youngsters. Good fellows," said Bagshaw, who

knew the inner history of every boy. "Might, one day, do for the team."

Sturton looked the two youngsters carefully up and down.

"Might," he agreed. "Two years hence, perhaps. They're real nippy

forwards, and ain't selfish. Just look at Susanne!"

The latter attracted and held their attention for some while, for the

Frenchman was a promising player. Slow, but strong, he played an

excellent game at back, and had the weight and size for kicking.

"In a year he'd be big enough and know enough of the game," said

Sturton. "Put him down, Bagshaw."

That day, in fact, saw the names of four of the Old Firm entered in

Bagshaw's list of promising Ranleighans. For in the Gym they came across

Hugh disporting himself on the horizontal bar, where he performed

cleverly.

"Yes, sir. Make a good gymnast. Been trained badly or not at all," the

sergeant told them. "But I'm watching him. This Mister Seymour'll be

good to watch and bring along. Ranleigh could do with another of those

challenge shields from Aldershot."

He nodded across to the wall of the Gym, whereon hung the shield won

outright at the Aldershot public schools competition.

A month made an indisputable difference to Ranleighans. Steady, daily

exercise told its tale without a doubt. The health of the school was

decidedly better. True, the Head had at first been astounded and almost

alarmed at the increased amount consumed at meal time. But then, the

tuck was less often visited. Boys who in past times had lolled the

afternoons away because there was nothing to do, now had no time to

slack over their tuck-boxes and gorge. It was becoming almost bad form

to gorge, though due allowance was, of course, made for the natural

capacity of growing boys. And then, throughout the school there had

arisen a friendly rivalry. The Head, with that discretion which marked

him, came forward with a dormitory cup for runs, and this was to be won

by the dormitory receiving the greater number of marks at the end of the

term for the prowess of its individuals. Another dormitory cup was put

up by a friend for football, and a third for gymnastics.

But the chief inducement of all, the aim and object of the whole school

without exception, for even here Rawlings and Norman were in agreement,

was the great annual football match with Parkland School, on this

occasion to be played at Ranleigh.

"Harvey did his best to win, so did others before him," asserted

Sturton, when six weeks of the term had gone and already a marked

improvement in the playing of football had been apparent. "We'll do our

utmost too, and choose our men carefully. I'm going to make a change

this time."

"What's that?" demanded Bagshaw.

"Choose my men early, play them constantly, and fill up gaps and the

places of those who go back in their play with reserves on my list. The

most important thing is to get our team playing together, so as to know

one another. Of course, we've a match against Ringham boys, and one or

two others. But we've always beaten them in past years, and will do so

again easily. So I mean to raise a team of masters and boys. Fortunately

there are a number of the masters who play keenly, and they with

selected boys will put up a game which will test the fellows we choose

for the big match. How's that?"

The scheme, added to Sturton's other one, was, in fact, good, and, we

must add, one practised at many schools. By carefully watching the

dormitory games, and checking the playing of boys whose names had been

recommended by their prefects, Sturton soon had a list of likely

players. Two elevens were chosen from these, and a fine game played

between them, when the Head himself helped in the selection of the final

eleven. Then, once every week, and rather oftener as the great day

approached, this eleven played a strenuous game against another composed

of masters and boys, while Bagshaw coached them and refereed at one and

the same moment. A looker on at that game could not have helped admit

that one and all were in fine condition. After all, boys cannot take

part in a weekly run, the length of which was gradually extended, in

daily exercise of some energetic nature, in gymnastics and fives and

what not, without becoming wonderfully fit. There was also the regular

morning dip, which, though not compulsory, had now become a regular

habit with the entire school. So popular was the notion indeed, that

boys now descended by dormitories, times being arranged, and a limited

period being given for the bathing.

Even West Dormitory had come up to scratch, while Norman, at first

grudgingly, and now with generous openness, expressed his approval of

Sturton's scheme, and applauded its success. But then, Bagshaw had had

something to say to that. There had been a discussion between himself

and Sturton and the Head, and as a result Rawlings had been promoted to

another dormitory.

"On probation, you will please understand," said the Head, kindly but

seriously, when informing that lordly gentleman. "Last term I had the

painful task of degrading you. Now I am advised that it would be as well

to give you another trial. You will go to East, where I hope you will

remain next term as a prefect."

As it happened, there was a sterling fellow in charge of East, a tall,

burly youth from Australia; one, too, in the habit of calling a spade a

spade, and intensely loyal to his school.

"Just the fellow to sit on Rawlings if he wishes to belittle the new

scheme," Bagshaw had advised. "At any rate, he's not likely to come

under his influence. If the Head would move Rawlings there, on

probation, and say nothing to Harper, in East, why, no one'll be the

wiser, and Norman, left to himself, will see that he's been acting like

a fool, and will come into line with the others."

The wise Bagshaw was of huge value to Sturton and to the school

generally. The plan he proposed, and which the Head adopted, worked

wonderfully. Norman regained his keenness of a sudden, while Rawlings

found himself in strange quarters. He despised this big Australian

Harper. But he took good care not to let him see that he did so, for

Harper was not the one to put up with nonsense. Rawlings was even wise

enough to keep his sneers and gibes to himself for a while, till he knew

exactly what his senior's feelings were. And on the first occasion,

when, imagining Harper to have cause for displeasure with Sturton, he

ventured to disparage that fine fellow, and belittle his scheme, Harper

turned upon him like a tiger.

"That's your sort, is it?" he asked grimly. "Don't you let me hear you

say another word against Sturton or this scheme he's started. And look

here, Rawlings. I noticed you skulking last dormitory run. You'll lead

our fellows to-morrow, and I'll be with you."

Thereafter Rawlings kept very much to himself. He hated Harper, hated

the exercise he was bound to take, and loathed Ranleigh. But, then, that

was because he was too arrogant and selfish for his fellows. If he were

disgusted, and if Harper's open contempt of him galled, there were

plenty of others at Ranleigh who loved the place, who gloried in the

improvement which Sturton had wrought, and who awaited the final test

with eagerness and no little assurance.

"We'll lick those Parkland fellows hollow," declared Masters, as he lay

in bed one evening.

"If we can," ejaculated Susanne, with caution.

"If we can!" cried Masters indignantly, sitting up promptly. "There's a

thing to say! Why, even Sturton says we've a chance, and that's

something."

It was a great deal, in fact. Sturton had taken pains to ascertain the

fighting strength of Parkland. Against that he weighed the prowess of

his own team. And, though unusually reserved in such matters, the

admission had been dragged from him that Ranleigh had a chance. That

chance the following Saturday was to see made absolutely certain or

dashed aside. Ranleigh awaited the day with a curious mixture of fear

and eagerness.

King of Ranleigh: A School Story · 第 14 / 21 章