Acton's Feud: A Public School Story Read online

  CHAPTER XVIII

  HODGSON'S QUIETUS

  Acton now felt pretty safe as regards young Bourne. He held him fast inthe double bonds of indebtedness and of gratitude, and with Jack thegratitude was by far the greater. Acton had saved him from disgrace,from a lengthened stringing up, from the scorn of his brother, from thejeers and laughter of the rest of the fellows. Like others, he couldhave stood Corker's rage better than the jokes of his cronies. He wasreceived back into the fold of his own particular set with more _eclat_than he felt he deserved.

  "Here's old Bourne gone and sacked Acton," said Grim.

  "Sure Acton hasn't sacked him?" suggested Rogers.

  "Best fellow breathing," said Bourne, fervently.

  "Still, he's Biffen's."

  "I don't care whether he's a water-lily or not--he can't help that, youknow, poor fellow."

  "Why should he? Aren't we cock house?"

  "Where would you have been if Acton hadn't lifted you out of your muddypond, and let you see a little sunlight?"

  "You should be his fag," said Grim.

  "I'd jolly well like to," said Jack. "I'd black his boots almost."

  "He's a dozen pairs," said Grim.

  "Write a poem on his virtues," suggested Rogers.

  "Shut up this rot," said Wilson. "Let's try a run round the Bender--lastfellow stands tea at Hoopers."

  "Carried, _nem. con_.," said Grim, who was pretty speedy.

  And the reunited half-dozen cronies ran the three miles out and dittohome, Wilson subsequently standing tea, for, as he patheticallyexplained, "I was overhauling Rogers hand over hand when I slipped myshoe, else he'd have had to fork out." Thus Jack became again for awhile the common or garden variety of school-boy, and he enjoyed thechange.

  * * * * *

  Phil Bourne came into my room the same evening that saw Jack Bournereleased from the toils of Raffles.

  "Busy, old man?"

  "Not at all," said I, pushing away my books. "Jolly glad you've comein."

  "There's a bit of news for you. I've just been in the gym. I fancy theold school will pull off the 'Heavy' at Aldershot."

  "Has Hodgson turned out so jolly well, then?"

  "Hodgson! Oh no! Hodgson isn't going to be the school's representativethis year, I fancy."

  "Why, have you been in form to-night?"

  "Look here, old man, you are quite out of it. You sit here reading upall that ancient lore about the cestus, and you could tell me the namesof all Nero's gladiators, and yet here at this establishment we've got agladiator who is going to make history, and you don't know it."

  "I thought you were the only fellow who could show Hodgson anything."

  "No," said Phil. "I never was as good as Hodgson. I always made a pointof making him go all the way to win on principle, but he always had apull more or less over me. You see, Hodgson is lazy, and he wanted someone to challenge the right to represent the school, or I don't fancyhe'd have put in enough good work to stand much chance against the Etonman. Therefore I stepped into the breach, and, by sweating him, havemade Hodgson from a very fair boxer into a good one--good, but nothingsuper-excellent."

  "Then who's been lying low all this time?"

  "Acton."

  "_Acton?_" said I, in utter astonishment. "Why, didn't our dear Theodoredress him down once for losing his temper in the gym?"

  "He did, my boy, and Acton repaid the compliment to-night--withinterest. He opened our eyes for us. I'm telling the bare truth when Isay that he simply played with Theodore, and at the third round he asgood as knocked him out."

  I stared into the fire for a minute or two, thinking out this news.

  "Eureka!" said I. "I've found it!"

  "What?"

  "The reason Acton crops up here. He cannot forget an injury. Hodgsonhumbled him once, and so Acton must needs take away from Theodore hisown peculiar pet ambition, which is to represent St. Amory's atAldershot in the Heavy."

  "I wish," said Phil, gloomily, "Biffen's Beauty's schemes always workedout so well for the school's honour. He'll represent St. Amory's withouta doubt."

  "Is he so very good, then?"

  "Super-excellent, old fellow! Prodigious!" said Phil, with genuineadmiration. "We'll all sleep with both ears on the pillow when thetelegram comes from Aldershot. Such a left! He has a swinging, curlystroke which he uses after an artful little feint which would win thefinal by itself. Hodgson really seemed trying to catch quick-silver whenhe tried to get home on Acton. Where did Acton learn all this? Thesergeant hasn't got that artful mis-hit in his bag of tricks."

  "Don't speculate on Acton's doings or where he picks up what he knows.It's too intricate."

  "What a pity one can't go and shake his hand as one would like to do. Heis a marvel--this dark horse," said Phil, with genuine regret, as alwayswhen speaking of Acton.

  "Our _bete noir_," said I, without winking.

  "You heathen," said Phil, laughing. "That was almost a pun. But I'mafraid I'm a bit selfish in my joy about Acton. Since he's a certainty,I can devote all my mighty mind to rackets. I don't think there is abetter pair in the place than Vercoe and self at present."

  "Oh, thou modest one!"

  "'Toby' always finishes up 'When you and Mr. Vercoe goes to Queen'sClub, Mr. Bourne, I advise you, etc.' So, 'Toby' evidently has no doubtwho's to go there."

  "Toby" Tucker was our racket professional, and when he spotted a pairfor the public-school rackets, Fenton, the master who finally chose thepair, never said "Nay." "Toby" was incorruptible. With both his littleeyes fixed inexorably on merit, the greatest joys of his life wereconsummated when the St. Amory's pair brought the championship home.

  "Congratulate you, old man. If Acton pulls off the Aldershot and you andVercoe the rackets--"

  "If I only felt as confident on our lifting that as I do of Actonbringing off his, I'd go straightway and smother 'Toby.' He almost worksone to death."