Part 19 (1/2)

”Of course you didn't. You can't help being an a.s.s, but don't swagger or brag about it. Go easy--and, by the way, whatever you do, forget you're an exhibitioner. It's not your fault, I know, but it's a sort of thing to be lived down up here. Be n.o.body, that's the rule! then you'll worry through.”

”But _you_ were an exhibitioner, Tempest,” I suggested, ”weren't you?”

”Yes, but I kept it dark. Do you know the chap who asked me to tea?”

”No.”

”He's Pridgin--in the Eleven--makes beastly bad jokes, but not a bad chap. You'll like f.a.gging for him.”

”What--am I to f.a.g?” said I, undergoing another shock. I had made quite sure exhibitioners were exempt from that indignity.

”There you go again. What did I tell you?” said Tempest, in tones of mild menace; ”you're putting it on again already. You'd better fish out that cane again, there's a good chap.”

”Oh, please don't--I didn't mean, Tempest! All right, I'll f.a.g for him.”

Tempest regarded first me, then the cricket box where the cane lay, doubtfully.

”I tell you he's not half a bad chap. Bother it,” added he, picking up the cane, ”I must do it, kid. Awfully sorry, but it would be low to let you off because I know you. Look alive. One, middling warm, on each hand, that's all. Thanks.”

He was quite unnecessarily grateful. His idea of middling warm, I could not help thinking, was not very different from hot. And yet I felt I could stand it better from him than from most.

”Some chaps,” said he, after returning me the cane to put back in its place, ”would say that this sort of thing pained them more than it does you. It didn't me. I fancy you felt it more than I did. Anyhow, you'll remember what I said, won't you? Pridgin's not half a bad chap.”

”If you want any one to f.a.g for you. Tempest--”

I began.

”Oh, I've got one--a beauty--young Trimble; he sat next to you at register to-day. You'll hit it off with him to a T. Talking of tea, by the way, it's time we showed up at Pridgin's. Come along, and I'll introduce you.”

The reader may not believe it, but my interview with Tempest helped to knock the nonsense out of me more than any treatment I had yet undergone. It was not so much the caning (which, by the way, I afterwards discovered to be a wholly unauthorised proceeding on my old comrade's part), but his plain advice, and the friendly way in which it was all given. It made me realise that he really meant to stick by me and pull me through my troubles, and the sense of his interest in me made up wonderfully for the loneliness which had been growing on me ever since I entered Low Heath that morning.

Pridgin, as became a member of the Eleven, received me with dignity quite devoid of curiosity. He informed Tempest that he considered it was playing it pretty low down on him to let an idiot like me loose on him. Still, times were bad, and one must put up with what one could get.

Whereat I had the good sense to grin appreciatively, and was thereupon permitted to boil my new master's eggs and stand by the kettle until it was ready for the tea.

CHAPTER NINE.

ACQUAINTANCES, HIGH AND LOW.

I was at first too much concerned in my important culinary occupations to bestow much attention on the company. It was only when the eggs were boiled and the teapot filled that I had leisure to make a few observations.

The host, Pridgin, my new master, was not a very formidable sort of person at first blush. True he was in the Eleven and a fine all-round athlete. True he was fairly well up in the Sixth, and one of the boys Low Heath was proud of. These things did not strike one in beholding him. What did strike one was his air of lazy humour, which seemed to regard life as a huge joke, if only one could summon up the energy to enjoy it. Pridgin did indeed enjoy his share of it, but one could not help feeling that, were he to choose, that share would be a great deal larger than it really was.

It was plain to see he was fond of Tempest; a weakness which reconciled me to him from the first. Tempest, however, seemed, if anything, to prefer the third member of the party present, who was in every way a contrast to his genial host.

Wales struck one as a far more imposing person than Pridgin, but not quite as attractive. He was dressed in what seemed to me the top of the fas.h.i.+on, and had the appearance of a youth who made a point of having everything of the best. He had the reputation, as I discovered afterwards, of possessing the most expensive bats and racquets, the best-bound books, the best-fitting clothes, of any one in Low Heath. It was also rumoured that he spent more than any boy in the town shops, and gave the most extravagant entertainments in his study. Fellows were a little shy of him for this very reason. He forced the pace in the matter of money, and there were only a few fellows who could stand it.

Tempest was not one of these, and yet he seemed very thick with Wales.

It was certainly not for the sake of his money, for Tempest was one of those fellows who never care for a fellow for the same reason that any one else would. He had begun by being amused with Wales's dandyism and extravagance, and had ended in encouraging him in them.