The Gold Bat Page 9

  VIII

  O'HARA ON THE TRACK

  Tuesday mornings at Wrykyn were devoted--up to the quarter to eleveninterval--to the study of mathematics. That is to say, instead of goingto their form-rooms, the various forms visited the out-of-the-way nooksand dens at the top of the buildings where the mathematical masterswere wont to lurk, and spent a pleasant two hours there playing roundgames or reading fiction under the desk. Mathematics being one of thefew branches of school learning which are of any use in after life,nobody ever dreamed of doing any work in that direction, least of allO'Hara. It was a theory of O'Hara's that he came to school to enjoyhimself. To have done any work during a mathematics lesson would havestruck him as a positive waste of time, especially as he was in MrBanks' class. Mr Banks was a master who simply cried out to be ragged.Everything he did and said seemed to invite the members of his class toamuse themselves, and they amused themselves accordingly. One of theadvantages of being under him was that it was possible to predict to anicety the moment when one would be sent out of the room. This wasfound very convenient.

  O'Hara's ally, Moriarty, was accustomed to take his mathematics with MrMorgan, whose room was directly opposite Mr Banks'. With Mr Morgan itwas not quite so easy to date one's expulsion from the room underordinary circumstances, and in the normal wear and tear of themorning's work, but there was one particular action which could alwaysbe relied upon to produce the desired result.

  In one corner of the room stood a gigantic globe. The problem--how didit get into the room?--was one that had exercised the minds of manygenerations of Wrykinians. It was much too big to have come through thedoor. Some thought that the block had been built round it, others thatit had been placed in the room in infancy, and had since grown. Torefer the question to Mr Morgan would, in six cases out of ten, meaninstant departure from the room. But to make the event certain, it wasnecessary to grasp the globe firmly and spin it round on its axis. Thatalways proved successful. Mr Morgan would dash down from his dais,address the offender in spirited terms, and give him his marchingorders at once and without further trouble.

  Moriarty had arranged with O'Hara to set the globe rolling at ten sharpon this particular morning. O'Hara would then so arrange matters withMr Banks that they could meet in the passage at that hour, when O'Harawished to impart to his friend his information concerning the League.

  O'Hara promised to be at the trysting-place at the hour mentioned.

  He did not think there would be any difficulty about it. The news thatthe League had been revived meant that there would be trouble in thevery near future, and the prospect of trouble was meat and drink to theIrishman in O'Hara. Consequently he felt in particularly good form formathematics (as he interpreted the word). He thought that he would haveno difficulty whatever in keeping Mr Banks bright and amused. The firststep had to be to arouse in him an interest in life, to bring him intoa frame of mind which would induce him to look severely rather thanleniently on the next offender. This was effected as follows:--

  It was Mr Banks' practice to set his class sums to work out, and, aftersome three-quarters of an hour had elapsed, to pass round the form whathe called "solutions". These were large sheets of paper, on which hehad worked out each sum in his neat handwriting to a happy ending. Whenthe head of the form, to whom they were passed first, had finished withthem, he would make a slight tear in one corner, and, having done so,hand them on to his neighbour. The neighbour, before giving them to_his_ neighbour, would also tear them slightly. In time they wouldreturn to their patentee and proprietor, and it was then that thingsbecame exciting.

  "Who tore these solutions like this?" asked Mr Banks, in the repressedvoice of one who is determined that he _will_ be calm.

  No answer. The tattered solutions waved in the air.

  He turned to Harringay, the head of the form.

  "Harringay, did you tear these solutions like this?"

  Indignant negative from Harringay. What he had done had been to makethe small tear in the top left-hand corner. If Mr Banks had asked, "Didyou make this small tear in the top left-hand corner of thesesolutions?" Harringay would have scorned to deny the impeachment. Butto claim the credit for the whole work would, he felt, be an act offlat dishonesty, and an injustice to his gifted _collaborateurs._

  "No, sir," said Harringay.

  "Browne!"

  "Yes, sir?"

  "Did you tear these solutions in this manner?"

  "No, sir."

  And so on through the form.

  Then Harringay rose after the manner of the debater who is consciousthat he is going to say the popular thing.

  "Sir--" he began.

  "Sit down, Harringay."

  Harringay gracefully waved aside the absurd command.

  "Sir," he said, "I think I am expressing the general consensus ofopinion among my--ahem--fellow-students, when I say that this classsincerely regrets the unfortunate state the solutions have managed toget themselves into."

  "Hear, hear!" from a back bench.

  "It is with--"

  "Sit _down_, Harringay."

  "It is with heartfelt--"

  "Harringay, if you do not sit down--"

  "As your ludship pleases." This _sotto voce_.

  And Harringay resumed his seat amidst applause. O'Hara got up.

  "As me frind who has just sat down was about to observe--"

  "Sit down, O'Hara. The whole form will remain after the class."

  "--the unfortunate state the solutions have managed to get thimsilvesinto is sincerely regretted by this class. Sir, I think I am ixprissingthe general consensus of opinion among my fellow-students whin I saythat it is with heart-felt sorrow--"

  "O'Hara!"

  "Yes, sir?"

  "Leave the room instantly."

  "Yes, sir."

  From the tower across the gravel came the melodious sound of chimes.The college clock was beginning to strike ten. He had scarcely got intothe passage, and closed the door after him, when a roar as of abereaved spirit rang through the room opposite, followed by a string ofwords, the only intelligible one being the noun-substantive "globe",and the next moment the door opened and Moriarty came out. The laststroke of ten was just booming from the clock.

  There was a large cupboard in the passage, the top of which made a verycomfortable seat. They climbed on to this, and began to talk business.

  "An' what was it ye wanted to tell me?" inquired Moriarty.

  O'Hara related what he had learned from Trevor that morning.

  "An' do ye know," said Moriarty, when he had finished, "I halfsuspected, when I heard that Mill's study had been ragged, that itmight be the League that had done it. If ye remember, it was what theyenjoyed doing, breaking up a man's happy home. They did it frequently."

  "But I can't understand them doing it to Trevor at all."

  "They'll do it to anybody they choose till they're caught at it."

  "If they are caught, there'll be a row."

  "We must catch 'em," said Moriarty. Like O'Hara, he revelled in theprospect of a disturbance. O'Hara and he were going up to Aldershot atthe end of the term, to try and bring back the light and middle-weightmedals respectively. Moriarty had won the light-weight in the previousyear, but, by reason of putting on a stone since the competition, wasnow no longer eligible for that class. O'Hara had not been up before,but the Wrykyn instructor, a good judge of pugilistic form, was ofopinion that he ought to stand an excellent chance. As the prize-fighterin _Rodney Stone_ says, "When you get a good Irishman, you can'tbetter 'em, but they're dreadful 'asty." O'Hara was attending thegymnasium every night, in order to learn to curb his "dreadful'astiness", and acquire skill in its place.

  "I wonder if Trevor would be any good in a row," said Moriarty.

  "He can't box," said O'Hara, "but he'd go on till he was killedentirely. I say, I'm getting rather tired of sitting here, aren't you?Let's go to the other end of the passage and have some cricket."

  So, having unearthed a piece of wood from the de
bris at the top of thecupboard, and rolled a handkerchief into a ball, they adjourned.

  Recalling the stirring events of six years back, when the League hadfirst been started, O'Hara remembered that the members of thatenterprising society had been wont to hold meetings in a secluded spot,where it was unlikely that they would be disturbed. It seemed to himthat the first thing he ought to do, if he wanted to make their neareracquaintance now, was to find their present rendezvous. They must haveone. They would never run the risk involved in holding mass-meetings inone another's studies. On the last occasion, it had been an old quarryaway out on the downs. This had been proved by the not-to-be-shakentestimony of three school-house fags, who had wandered out onehalf-holiday with the unconcealed intention of finding the League'splace of meeting. Unfortunately for them, they _had_ found it.They were going down the path that led to the quarry before-mentioned,when they were unexpectedly seized, blindfolded, and carried off. Animpromptu court-martial was held--in whispers--and the three explorersforthwith received the most spirited "touching-up" they had everexperienced. Afterwards they were released, and returned to their housewith their zeal for detection quite quenched. The episode had created agood deal of excitement in the school at the time.

  On three successive afternoons, O'Hara and Moriarty scoured the downs,and on each occasion they drew blank. On the fourth day, just beforelock-up, O'Hara, who had been to tea with Gregson, of Day's, wasgoing over to the gymnasium to keep a pugilistic appointment withMoriarty, when somebody ran swiftly past him in the direction of theboarding-houses. It was almost dark, for the days were still short,and he did not recognise the runner. But it puzzled him a little tothink where he had sprung from. O'Hara was walking quite close to thewall of the College buildings, and the runner had passed between it andhim. And he had not heard his footsteps. Then he understood, and hispulse quickened as he felt that he was on the track. Beneath the blockwas a large sort of cellar-basement. It was used as a store-room forchairs, and was never opened except when prize-day or some similar eventoccurred, when the chairs were needed. It was supposed to be locked atother times, but never was. The door was just by the spot where he wasstanding. As he stood there, half-a-dozen other vague forms dashed pasthim in a knot. One of them almost brushed against him. For a moment hethought of stopping him, but decided not to. He could wait.

  On the following afternoon he slipped down into the basement soon afterschool. It was as black as pitch in the cellar. He took up a positionnear the door.

  It seemed hours before anything happened. He was, indeed, almost givingup the thing as a bad job, when a ray of light cut through theblackness in front of him, and somebody slipped through the door. Thenext moment, a second form appeared dimly, and then the light was shutoff again.

  O'Hara could hear them groping their way past him. He waited no longer.It is difficult to tell where sound comes from in the dark. He plungedforward at a venture. His hand, swinging round in a semicircle, metsomething which felt like a shoulder. He slipped his grasp down to thearm, and clutched it with all the force at his disposal.