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Cock-House at Fellsgarth

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<h3>Chapter Twenty One.</h3> <h4>Bolted!</h4> However slowly the rumour of Rollitt’s dishonesty had spread through the School, the news of his disappearance spread like wildfire. Mr Forder’s desire to keep the matter from being talked about was eminently futile, for Wally and Percy Wheatfield both knew all about it five minutes after Fisher major had discovered the absence of the “suspect.” By everybody except a very few infatuated persons, such as Yorke and Fisher minor, Rollitt’s flight was taken as conclusive evidence of his guilt. “If he hadn’t done it, why shouldn’t he stay and face it?” asked Clapperton. “The wonder to me is,” sneered Dangle, “that he brazened it out as long as he did.” “Suppose you were in his shoes,” said Yorke, “suspected by every one, with the evidence black against you, and Dangle in charge of the prosecution, how would you like it?” “If I’m in charge of the prosecution,” said Dangle, colouring up, “it’s because you, whose duty it was to see the matter put right, were doing all you could to shield the scoundrel.” “I did nothing because I didn’t believe him guilty, and I don’t yet,” said the captain hotly; “and if you call him scoundrel again in my hearing, I’ll knock you down.” “Keep your temper,” said Dangle, glad, all the same, that there were one or two fellows between him and the captain. “You may not care about the credit of Fellsgarth. We do.” “You!” retorted Yorke, with such withering contempt that Dangle half wished he had left the matter alone. “The thing is,” said Ranger, “what is to be done!” “Nothing,” said Yorke. “Forder has gone to tell the doctor all about it. They’ll take it into their own hands to hunt him down—perhaps with Dangle’s assistance. All we’ve got to do is—” Here Fullerton interrupted— ”—is to say all the evil we can about a fellow who is down and can’t defend himself.” “What’s the matter with Fullerton?” said Clapperton, with a sneer; “surely he’s not become one of Rollitt’s champions?” “If it matters specially to you what I think,” said Fullerton, “I don’t believe a word of your precious story. First of all, Fisher major’s such a fool at accounts that it’s not at all certain the money is lost; secondly, Dangle is the accuser; thirdly, Rollitt is the accused; fourthly, because if a similar charge were made against me, I should certainly disappear.” “Ha, ha!” snarled Brinkman, “they’ve got hold of poor Fullerton, have they? I wish them joy of him.” “Thanks very much,” said Fullerton; “I don’t intend to desert the dear Moderns. You will have a splendid chance of taking it out of me for daring to believe somebody innocent that you think guilty. I shall be happy to see any three of you, whenever you like, I can hit out as well as young Corder, so I hope Brinkman won’t come. But Dangle now, or even Clapperton, I shall be charmed to see. It’s really their duty as prefects to suppress any one who dares have an opinion of his own. I simply long to be suppressed!” This astounding revolt for the time being diverted attention from the topic of the hour. The laughter with which it was greeted by the Classics present did not tend to add to the comfort of Clapperton, Brinkman, and Dangle, who very shortly discovered that it was time to go to their own house. “Wait for me,” said Fullerton; “I’m coming too.” And, to their disgust, the rebel strolled along, with his hands in his pockets, in their company, whistling pleasantly to himself and absolutely ignoring their unfriendly attitude. Meanwhile the question, “Where is Rollitt?” continued to exercise Fellsgarth, from the head-master down to the junior fag. Bit by bit all that could be found out about his movements came to light. His study was visited by the masters. It disclosed the usual state of grime and confusion. His fishing-rod and tackle were there. There had been no attempt to pack his few belongings, which lay scattered about in dismal disorder. The photograph of the pleasant, homely-looking woman on the mantelpiece, with the inscription below, “Alfred, from Mother,” stood in its usual place. His Aristophanes lay open in the window-sill at the place for to-day’s lesson. Everything betokened an abrupt and hasty departure. Among the papers on his table was a fragment of some accounts recording the outlay of little more than a few pence a week since the beginning of the term. When inquiry came to be made, it was found that he was last seen after afternoon class yesterday, when he unexpectedly went to the School shop and purchased from the attendant there (who had been put in charge of that establishment during the indisposition of the managing directors) half a dozen Abernethy biscuits. The matron at Wakefield’s remembered that only a day or two ago a parcel had arrived for Rollitt—another unusual circumstance—containing a ham. Of this possession no sign was now to be found in his study. The inference from all these circumstances of course was, that however abruptly he had departed, he had not gone home, but somewhere where food would not be easy to procure in the ordinary way. Messengers were sent to Penchurch to acquaint the police and inquire at various places on the way for news of the missing boy. But no one had seen him “out of touch” for several days—since his last fishing expedition. His home address was of course on the School books, and thither a telegram was sent. But as the place was beyond the region of the wire, no reply came for a day, when in answer to the doctor’s inquiry if the wanderer had returned home, there came an abrupt “No.” Meanwhile the doctor had had another conference with the seniors of both houses, and inquired with every sign of dissatisfaction into the merits of the suspicions which were the apparent cause of Rollitt’s disappearance. To his demand why the matter was not reported to him, Yorke replied that as far as he and Fisher major were concerned they did not suspect Rollitt, and therefore had had nothing to report. The Modern seniors, on the other hand, put in the plea that they had looked to the Classics to take the matter up, and when they declined to do so, had reported the matter to Mr Forder. Then the doctor went into the particulars of Dangle’s feud with the missing boy, much to the embarrassment of the former. “He insulted you by turning you out of Mr Wakefield’s house, you say. Why were you there?” “I went to speak to some juniors.” “About what?” “Clapperton wanted them—” “No, I didn’t. You went—” interrupted Clapperton. “Silence, Clapperton. What were they wanted for, Dangle?” “They had cheated at Elections.” “What was your object, then?” “To punish them.” “Are you not aware that the captain of the School is the only prefect who is allowed to punish?” “Yes, sir, but—” “Well?” “We were not sure that their own prefects were going to take any notice of it.” “I caned all four of them for it, and you saw me do it,” said Yorke. “Humph. And as to Rollitt, how came he to be present?” asked the doctor. “He came in.” “What were you doing when he came in?” “There was a scuffle.” “You were striking those boys? What did Rollitt do? Did he strike you?” “No, sir.” “What then?” “He—he,” said Dangle, flushing up to be obliged to record the fact in the presence of the other seniors, “he dragged me across the Green.” “Then you say he attacked you on another occasion on the football field?” And Dangle had to stand an uncomfortable cross-examination on this incident too. “What had it all got to do with Rollitt?” asked every one of himself. “I ask you all these questions, Dangle,” said the doctor, when he had brought this chapter of history up to date, “because it seems to me you are Rollitt’s chief accuser in this matter. I wish I were able to feel that you were not personally interested in your charges proving to be true. That, of course, does not affect the case, as far as Rollitt is concerned. The evidence against him is merely conjecture, so far.” “But I met him at Fisher’s door that afternoon,” said Dangle, determined to make the most of his strong points. “Why,” said Fisher, “you told me you didn’t know which my door was, when you first spoke about it.” “I found out since, and it was the same door.” “Was he coming out of the room or going in!” “Coming out.” “You are sure of that?” “Yes, I remember because the door nearly struck me as he opened it.” “However could it do that!” exclaimed Fisher. “My door opens inwards!” Dangle coloured up with confusion and stammered— “I—I thought it—I suppose I was wrong.” “I think so,” said the doctor frigidly. “Thank you, boys, I needn’t keep you longer at present.” “You idiot!” said Clapperton, as he and the discomfited Dangle walked back to Forder’s. “You’ve made a precious mess of it, and made the whole house ridiculous. Why couldn’t you let it alone? You’ve mulled everything you’ve put your finger into this term.” “Look here, Clapperton,” said Dangle, in a white heat, “I’ve stood a lot from you this term—a jolly lot. I’ve done your dirty work, and—” “What do you mean? What dirty work have I asked you to do?” “Plenty that you’ve not had the pluck to do yourself.” “I dare you to repeat it, you liar!” “You shall do your own in future, I know that.” “Dangle, hold your tongue, you cad!” “I shall do nothing of the kind, you snob!” Whereupon ensued the most wonderful spectacle of the half, a fight between Clapperton and Dangle. It was nearly dark, and no one was about, and history does not record how it ended. But in Hall that night both appeared with visages suspiciously marred, and it was noted by many an observant eye that diplomatic relations between the two were suspended. But while old friends had thus been falling out on Rollitt’s account, old enemies had on the same grounds been making it up. The juniors having recovered of their colds, and finding themselves once more in the full possession of their appetite, their liberty, and their spirits, celebrated their convalescence by a general mêlée in Percy’s room, under the specious pretext of a committee meeting of the shop-directors. This business function being satisfactorily concluded, they turned their attention to the condition of things in general. That Fellsgarth should have got itself into a regular mess during their enforced retirement caused them no surprise. What else could any one expect? But that any one should dare to suspect and make things hot for a fellow without consulting them, caused them both pain and astonishment. It quite slipped their memories that not long since some of them had been glad enough to listen to disparaging talk about the School hermit. That was a detail. On the whole they had stuck to him, and they meant to stick to him now! Many things were in his favour. He had won a goal for the School. He had dispensed with his right to a fag, and had let the juniors of all grades generally alone. He was on nodding terms with Fisher minor, one of their lot. He had come up Hawk’s Pike at much personal inconvenience to look for them. And he had been a customer to the extent of six Abernethys at the School shop. For all these reasons (which were quite apart from party considerations) it was decided nem. con. that Rollitt was a “good old sort” and must be stuck by. Whereupon the nine of them sallied out arm in arm across the Green, on the look-out for some one who might hold a contrary opinion. After some search they found a Modern middle-boy, who, catching sight of Fisher minor, shouted, “How now! Who nobbled the Club money?” which made Fisher minor suddenly detach himself from his company, and shouting, “That’s him!” start in pursuit. What a bull-dog it was getting, to be sure! The whole party joined in the hue-and-cry, and might have run the fugitive down, had not the head-master stalked across the Green at that moment on his way to Mr Wakefield’s. At sight of him they pulled up short, looked unutterably amiable, doffed their caps, and made as though they were merely out to take the air on this beautiful November afternoon. To Fisher minor the interruption was a sad one. That fellow was the borrower of his half-crown; for weeks he had lost sight of him. Now, suddenly, chance had seemed to bring both man and money within reach, when, alas! the Harpy swooped down and took off the prize from under his very nose. The doctor having passed, they continued their search for any one who had a bad word to say for Rollitt. But as it was nearly dark, and rain was falling, the craven maligners kept indoors, and would not be caught. So the juniors relieved themselves by giving three cheers for Rollitt under every window round the Green, and then fell to abusing Fisher minor because his brother, Fisher major, had lost the money which Rollitt was said to have stolen. “There’s no doubt that kid’s at the bottom of it,” said Percy. “First of all, he’s a Classic cad.” Here the speaker was obliged to pause, on a friendly admonition from the boot of his brother Wally. “He’s a Classic kid,” continued he. “You said cad.” “I said cad? do you hear that, you chaps? Thinks I don’t know how to spell.” “You said he was a Classic cad.” “There you are; you’ve said it now. Kick him, you chaps. How dare he say he’s a Classic cad?” said Percy. This verbal squabble being settled at last, Percy proceeded to explain Fisher minor’s position. “If he hadn’t come to Fellsgarth, Rollitt would have been smashed to bits over the falls. And if Rollitt had been smashed to bits—” “He couldn’t have bought six Abernethys at the shop,” suggested D’Arcy. “Right you are! And what’s more, he couldn’t have eaten them if he had, and he couldn’t have run away. There you are, I said this kid was at the bottom of it.” “But who’d have collared the money in that case?” asked Ashby. Percy reflected. This was a decided point. “Well, you see,” said he, “it’s this way. If young Fisher minor hadn’t been born, he wouldn’t have had a governor and a mater, and if he hadn’t had a governor and a mater, no more would Fisher major. And if Fisher major hadn’t had a governor and a mater he’d never have been elected treasurer, and if he’d not been elected treasurer he wouldn’t have lost the money. So you see the young un’s at the bottom of it again.” “I know a shorter way than that,” said D’Arcy. “If young Fisher minor hadn’t fetched Rollitt up to vote that day, Fisher major wouldn’t have been elected, and then he couldn’t have lost the money.” “Isn’t that what I said?” said Percy, indignant to be thus summarily paraphrased. “Are you going to lick me for being born?” inquired Fisher minor. “Good mind to. It’s all your fault good old Rollitt’s gone.” “Those six Abernethys won’t last him long,” suggested Cash. “No. We must keep a stock of them now, and call them ‘Rollitt’s particular.’ I fancy they might fetch three-halfpence each.” “I say,” said Wally, “I vote we find Rollitt. He’s not a bad sort, you know.” “All very well,” said Percy, “if one only knew where to look.” “It’s my notion he’s either gone home or to the top of Hawk’s Pike. I don’t well see where else he could be.” “London?” suggested Cottle. “Not got the money.” “Walked there?” “Not got the boots.” “He can’t be hanging about near here. Everybody knows him. No; you bet he’s gone to the top of Hawk’s Pike, and he’s going to stay there till the clouds roll by.” This brought up a painful reminiscence. None of the party, except Wally, exactly favoured the idea of another attempt on the great mountain. “Tell you what,” said Percy, “those biscuits will last him over to-night. We’ll see if there’s any news of him in the morning, and if not we’ll organise an expedition to find him. I say, let’s go and have another shop committee somewhere.” “Where?” “Suppose we have it in Rollitt’s study. He was a jolly good sort, you know. It would please him.” The logic of this proposition did not detain the meeting. They decided to go in the usual way. That is, the four Classic boys boldly marched into their house together, and the five Moderns dropped in one by one artlessly and quite by accident. As Fisher minor passed his brother’s door he thought he would just look in. At the same moment the house matron, with a very important face, was bounding into the room. “Master Fisher,” said she, “Mrs Wisdom’s just sent back that flannel shirt of yours.” “Oh! At last. She’s only had it six weeks. About long enough,” said Fisher major. “I’d given it up for lost.” “It got left at the bottom of the bag, and she never noticed it till last night. And what do you think, Master Fisher! there was this in the breast pocket.” And she handed him a little brown paper parcel. Fisher major snatched at it with an ejaculation more like horror than anything else, and tore the paper open. Four sovereigns and some silver dropped on to the table. “Why,” gasped he, “that’s it! I remember now. I got it on the field just before the Rendlesham match, and stuck it in that pocket, and it went clean out of my head. Oh, my word, what have I done? What an awful mess I’ve made!” Not even Fisher minor stayed to dispute this statement, but hurried off with the great news to the shop committee next door. <hr> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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