The Willoughby Captains, стр. 46

“Ah!” said Riddell, before “the fellows” could chime in, “it’s good fun belonging to a musical set — especially for songs like this, that appear to have several tunes all sung at once! You should give a concert.”

The boys looked more perplexed than ever. It sounded like chaff, and yet they could scarcely believe it was. So they smiled vacantly at one another, and began to feel the situation a little awkward.

“I suppose,” continued Riddell, feeling his way carefully—“I suppose between nine and ten is the usual time for singing in Welch’s? I fancied it was before supper!”

“Oh!” said Pilbury, “we do as we like here.”

“Do you, really?” replied the captain. “How jolly that must be!”

Cusack and Pilbury could hardly tell why they laughed at this very innocent observation, but they did, and Riddell was quick enough to see his advantage.

“You know, I’d be very sorry to interfere with the beautiful music,” he said; “but do you think you could get to like not to sing after supper?”

The boys stared as if they were not quite sure yet how to take it. However, the captain made himself clear without further delay. “The fact is,” said he, a trifle nervously, but in his friendliest tones—“the fact is — I don’t know what you think, but I’d be awfully glad if you fellows would back me up for a week or two in Welch’s. Of course, you know, the doctor’s put me here, and I don’t suppose you’re much alarmed by the move, eh? You needn’t be.”

“We aren’t,” said Morgan, in a decidedly mild attempt at heroism.

“I’m glad of that,” said the captain; whereat the rest of the company laughed at the unlucky Morgan, who had quite expected the joke to go the other way. “You know,” continued Riddell, sitting upon the table and talking as familiarly as though he were in his own study, “I’d rather like if among us we could pull Welch’s up a bit before the end of the term. It seems rather a shame, for instance, we didn’t have a boat on the river these races, and that there’s not a single Welcher in the first eleven.”

“It’s a beastly shame!” said Philpot. “Bloomfield’s down on us, you know; he’s got a spite against us.”

“Oh! I don’t know,” said Riddell. “I fancy if we’d got some good enough men he’d be only too glad to put them in. After all, the glory of the school is the chief thing.”

“Tucker and Silk will never practise,” said Cusack. “I know I would if I’d got the chance.”

“Well, I don’t see why you shouldn’t start the House Cricket Club this year, at any rate,” said Riddell.

“That’s just what Tucker and Silk won’t do. We wanted them to do it, didn’t we, Pil?”

“Rather!” said Pil; “and they told us to mind our own business.”

“Suppose we start it ourselves?” suggested the captain; “I’m a Welcher now, you know. I don’t see why, because Tucker and Silk object, the whole house should be done out of its cricket.”

“No more do I,” said Philpot.

“They’ll kick up a jolly row with us, though,” said Morgan.

“I don’t think so,” said Riddell. “At any rate, that’s no reason why there shouldn’t be a club.”

“All serene!” said Cusack, warming up to the notion, and quite forgetting “Bouncer.”

“I say, Riddell, couldn’t we start it now?”

“Yes, certainly,” said Riddell; “why not? I propose Cusack be the secretary.”

“Oh, I say!” cried that youth, blushing, half with pleasure and half with embarrassment; “you’d better be that, Riddell.”

“Oh, no,” said Riddell, laughing, “I don’t know the fellows so well as you. If you were secretary, and Pilbury or Philpot treasurer, I’d be president, or something of that sort, if you like.”

The idea of the new club took like wildfire, and an enthusiastic consultation followed. It was resolved to summon a meeting next day of all who took an interest in the sport, and to arrange for a trial match at once. Riddell went as warmly into the details as any one, and took every opportunity of working up the patriotic spirit of his younger companions.

“You know,” said he, “I don’t see at all why we shouldn’t be able to get together a team for the junior elevens if we practise hard.”

“The nuisance is,” said Cusack, “we’re stopped an hour a day’s play all this term.”

“What for?” inquired the captain.

The melancholy story of Mr Parrett and the sulphuretted hydrogen was recounted.

“It’s a pity,” said he, gravely.

“I wonder if Paddy would mind giving us a licking instead,” suggested Pilbury, whose hands were of the horny kind.

Even the others whose palms were less seasoned seemed willing to fall in with this alternative, but Riddell discouraged it.

“No,” said he, “he’s not likely to do that. But I tell you what I’ll do. I’ll see him and Parrett and tell them about the club, and undertake that you’ll be steady the rest of the term if they’ll let you off. Do you think I’d be safe in saying so?”

“Rather! I’ll promise, for one,” cried Cusack.

“And I’ll try,” said Pilbury.

“So will we,” said the others.

So it was settled. And when next day Riddell in triumph was able to announce that the doctor and Mr Parrett had agreed to withdraw the prohibition, in consideration of the captain’s promise on their behalf, great was the jubilation.

Greater still was Riddell’s own satisfaction in feeling that he had at least made a good start towards getting on the right side of the juniors of his new house.

Chapter Nineteen

“Is Willoughby degenerate?”

As might be expected, the new captain’s move in attempting to win over the juniors of Welch’s only served to increase the irritation of those seniors who had hitherto reigned supreme in the house.

But Riddell had taken this into his calculation, and was therefore not greatly astonished when immediately after the enthusiastic cricket meeting just referred to, Silk followed him to his study in a by no means amiable frame of mind.

Silk was not given to losing his temper, but on the present occasion he was decidedly ruffled. And no wonder.

Any fellow would be ruffled who suddenly found himself deposed from his authority in the manner in which Silk had been. Had he been one of the most conscientious and painstaking of monitors, he might well have been excused flaring up a little, and, indeed, would have shown a poor spirit had he not done so.

But Silk, as the reader knows, was neither painstaking nor conscientious. He did not care a rap about Welch’s, still less about Willoughby. As long as he could please himself and annoy his enemies, he did not care what became of his house or the boys in it. It was only when any one ventured to dispute his authority as head of the house that he attached any value to his office. In fact, it was the story of the Dog in the Manger carried out in school life — he would not be troubled doing his duty to Welch’s, and he would not if he could help it let any one else do it for him.

Riddell, if truth must be told, was not at all sorry to have an early opportunity of coming to an explanation with Silk.

Silk was one of the very few boys in Willoughby whom the captain positively disliked, and that being so Riddell was troubled with none of the half-apologetic nervousness which he usually felt in the presence of his other fellow-seniors. He looked upon Silk both as an enemy to Willoughby and as the evil genius of young Wyndham, and therefore was by no means disposed to beg his pardon or consult his pleasure in the new order of things at Welch’s.

“I hear the juniors have been saying something to you about starting the cricket club,” said Silk, in tones which were the reverse of conciliatory.

“Yes,” said Riddell; “or, rather, I suggested it to them.”

“You did! All I can say is, it’s like your impudence. Welch’s is come to a pretty pass if you’re sent here to look after our athletics.”

Riddell did not feel called upon to reply to this, and Silk therefore continued, “Don’t you know Tucker and I have been captains of the clubs here for the last two years?”