"Owe that entirely4 to the practice I got writing for the Rag, Dick," Roger chuckled5. "Topping prize, too—well-bound set of Shakespeare. Old Wykeham didn't half like his 'pet lamb' losing it. He looked positively6 sour as Lady Maingay handed me the goods!"
"Imagination, old boy!" laughed Dick. "All the same, I'm overjoyed you pulled it off so finely. Rooke's House wears a feathered cap to-day. What'll you say when Harwood comes across to congratulate you?"
"Nothing! Shan't have the chance. He won't come."
Nor did he. It was breaking-up time, and Luke Harwood probably found enough to do in Holbeck's House without going out of his way to congratulate his rival. Moreover, he had other excuses for jealousy7, inasmuch as the whole school seemed to be laughing over Roger's delicious burlesque8 of the burglary, with its cleverly-rhymed raillery of the bewildered local police.
Indisputably the new magazine outshone the old on this occasion. Mr. Rooke and Mr. Holbeck, masters of rival houses, were seen chuckling9 over it together, and no success on the playing-fields of Foxenby could have thrilled the Captain so much. It sent him off for the Christmas holidays with a brighter feeling than he had known for weeks, and he went straight to his aunt on his arrival home, confident that in her he would find the solution of all his money troubles.
Aunt Bella was a tall, athletic11, merry-featured woman—a tennis champion and a golf-prize winner still, but very much prouder of "her boy's" feats12 than she was of her own. Usually her eyes twinkled with the joy of living, but to-day Dick was startled and embarrassed to see her cheeks wet with tears.
"Cry-baby, am I not, dear lad?" she said. "I quite meant to be as bright as a button when you arrived, but evidently I am not of the stuff from which heroines are made. I'm an elderly woman in distress13, and I can't hide it!"
"Oh, I say, Auntie, who's been making you wretched? Show me the blighter and I'll go for him and punch his head, though he be as big as a house-side."
Half-laughing and half-crying, Aunt Bella pinched Dick's ear.
"Dear boy, you scent14 a love-romance! It's nothing like that. And there are two reasons why you cannot punch his head. He's small and insignificant15 and three times your age. Also he's in jail!"
Alarm shot through Dick's heart. "Why, Aunt Bella, have you had a burglar, too?"
"Too?" Aunt Bella repeated, looking interested.
"Yes—we've had a burglary at school, but never mind that now—tell me about the chap that's in jail, and why."
"Oh, it's the old tale, Dick. Lonely widow seeks solace16 in golf—leaves trusted lawyer to manage her affairs—wakes up one morning to find that he has coolly spent all the money she has asked him to put out on mortgage."
"The blackguard!" cried Dick.
"Oh, I'm not the only sufferer—I can survive it better than some of his other clients, notably17 the officers' widows, poor souls. Still, I shall have to give up this house and go into rooms, which I hate. Moreover, I shall lose my golf, which is worse."
Dick, never a great spokesman, was overwhelmed by this story of his aunt's misfortune. His own trouble, of which he had been so full a few minutes before, went clean out of his head. Vainly he racked his brains for words of comfort and sympathy. A tragedy like this was too deep for glib18 consolation19.
"Dear old Auntie, I hope he gets fifteen years," he blurted20 out at last. "You're a brick to laugh over it. Let—let's get out of this and have a round of golf—not for the last time, either. Things are bound to come out all right. There'll be something saved from the wreck21."
Aunt Bella's eyes shone almost happily now. "God bless you, dear boy, for your cheeriness!" she said. "You've bucked22 me up no end. Golf? Why, certainly. We need another enthusiast23 in the family to carry on the good work. Come, I'll teach you something that even a football captain doesn't know!"
From that day until the morning of his return to Foxenby, Dick kept his mouth shut about his difficulties at school. Twice Aunt Bella pressed him for particulars of the burglary, and each time he laughed the matter off. She must never know how greatly the pocket-money she could no longer send would be missed. Clearly, he could never take a farthing from her again, and it mortified24 him to be unable to volunteer the return of at least some of the cash with which, from his babyhood upwards25, she had always so lavishly26 supplied him.
In his widowed stepmother it was impossible to confide10. She just did endure his presence in the house at holiday times, and that was all. She had no use for "a hobble-de-hoy stepson", she had been heard to say, and quite frankly27 grudged28 him what, under his father's will, she was compelled to pay for his education.
In these cheerless circumstances Dick decided29 to return to school a day before the other fellows did, and to make a hole in his scanty30 allowance by putting up for one night at the village inn. Thus, he would be enabled to see the publisher of the Rag and explain things. Practically it amounted to throwing himself on the printing-manager's mercy, much as his pride revolted against that course.
At Peterborough everybody alighted from the East Coast express save one man, a heavily-built individual with a square jaw31 and glittering black eyes. He was dressed in tweeds of a "horsey" pattern, and the moment the train re-started he thrust into Dick's arms a sheaf of coloured sporting papers.
"Good biz!" he wheezed32. "Now that those over-fried old pelicans33 have buzzed off, we can breathe. Open that window, sonny! You and I can suck in some winter ozone34 without needing a bronchitis-kettle, what?"
Disinclined for conversation, wanting to be alone with his thoughts, yet incapable35 of being surly with anyone, Dick acknowledged the loan of the papers and turned the leaves disinterestedly36.
"Not much in your line, sonny, eh? Well, chuck 'em into the rack—the porter'll simply eat 'em. Can't size up them letters on your cap. What's your school? Foxenby! Why, that's the team which drew with St. Cuthbert's in the final. Shan't forget that match in a hurry. Lost a hundred pounds on it!"
"You don't say so!" exclaimed Dick, surprised into a show of interest. "Did you have your pockets picked?"
"Not so very much, youngster. I'd like to see the crook37 that could pick my pocket and live. When I say that I lost a hundred pounds, I mean that I stood to win that sum if Foxenby had scored. Everybody in Walsbridge had a bit on with me—and they backed St. Cuthbert's to a man. Consequence was, when that dotty waxwork38 of a mascot39 chipped in and spoilt the Foxenby centre-forward's goal, I lost a little fortune as clean as a whistle."
"Do you say that people actually betted on the match—an amateur game between rival schools?" he asked. "It's preposterous—incredible!"
"Look here, sonny, how old are you—where were you brought up? You're either younger than you look, or grass-green for your age. What good's a football match—any sort of match, boxing, cricket, whatever you like—if people can't have a little bet on it? Tripe—ditchwater!"
Dick flushed with annoyance41. "The cup final was pure sport," he declared. "To bet on it was positively vile42. If you were encouraging people to do so, you ought to have been warned off the ground."
The bookie laughed harshly at this straight hit. "Oh, I wasn't there in person, sonny—what I know of the game was from hearsay43. But if you didn't have a little gamble on it yourself, there are other Foxenby chaps who did."
"It's a lie!" Dick hotly denied. "There isn't a fellow in Foxenby who would be skunk44 enough to play it so low down."
"All serene45, young feller—keep your hair on. I know what I know, but we'll not talk about it, as I never betray a client. Anyhow, if that young Foxenby chap had scored, there'd have been a five-pound note in the school letter-box for him next day. Just a friendly memento46, so to speak, and no questions asked."
"And straight to the police-station it would have gone, too," was Dick's indignant comment. "If you try buying over a 'Fox' to your dirty betting business, you'll find yourself in Queer Street, whoever you are."
The bookie gazed across at him with serenely-smiling eyes. "What ho!" he cried. "When I see shells, I guess eggs. So you were the Foxenby centre-forward that day, eh? Well, youngster, I like spirit. Slang me back-and-edge, call me dud names, tear my honest business to tatters, but accept my congratulations as a sportsman on the clinking game you played that day. My pals47 still talk about it."
Now Dick was no snob49, and too genuinely boyish not to appreciate a word of praise, from whatever quarter it came. Besides, he realized that the man was to be his travelling companion for the remainder of the journey, and that no discouragement could silence him. So, while saying as little as possible himself, he let the bookmaker run on, and at last found himself being entertained, in spite of his prejudice, by the man's racy reminiscences of famous sporting events of the past-great boxing contests between world champions, doughty50 wrestling matches in the Westmorland hills, exciting International games won "dead on time", all mingled51 with less savoury stories of the shady side of sport, where combatants were kidnapped, drugged, or bribed52 to lose, so that huge sums of money might go dishonestly into the pockets of the betting-ring.
The man was a born story-teller, and his determination to be friendly was such that he insisted on sharing with Dick the contents of a very excellent luncheon-basket. This the Captain frankly enjoyed, and said so.
"Yet it took me twenty minutes to persuade you to have a bite," laughed the bookmaker triumphantly53. "Look here, lad, we shall soon be at Moston, and perhaps I shan't see you again, though I'm generally knocking about near the market-place. Now, I like you. You've called me a liar54 and a thief—that's straight talking, and better than a cisternful of 'soft soap', though it isn't true of 'Chuck' Smithies, the commission agent. Still, I've enjoyed your society, and you can always remember you've got a pal48 in me if ever you're 'up against it', and want a lift. Here's Moston, and the best of friends must part, as the old song says. Come, now, are we going to shake hands or not?"
He put out his hand in an awkward fashion, quite obviously expecting Dick to ignore it. But the Captain gripped it without hesitation55, and smiled rather shyly back.
"You've been good to me," he said. "I hate betting—yours is a putrid56 business—but if I've said anything to hurt your feelings, wash it out. I'm sorry!"
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1
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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supremacy
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| n.至上；至高权力 | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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burlesque
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| v.嘲弄，戏仿；n.嘲弄，取笑，滑稽模仿 | |
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chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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feats
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| 功绩，伟业，技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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14
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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15
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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solace
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| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
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notably
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| adv.值得注意地，显著地，尤其地，特别地 | |
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glib
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| adj.圆滑的，油嘴滑舌的 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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blurted
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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bucked
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| adj.快v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的过去式和过去分词 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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enthusiast
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| n.热心人，热衷者 | |
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24
mortified
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| v.使受辱( mortify的过去式和过去分词 )；伤害（人的感情）；克制；抑制（肉体、情感等） | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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lavishly
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| adv.慷慨地，大方地 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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grudged
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| 怀恨（grudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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32
wheezed
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| v.喘息，发出呼哧呼哧的喘息声( wheeze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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33
pelicans
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| n.鹈鹕( pelican的名词复数 ) | |
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34
ozone
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| n.臭氧，新鲜空气 | |
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incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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disinterestedly
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37
crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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38
waxwork
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| n.蜡像 | |
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mascot
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| n.福神，吉祥的东西 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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42
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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hearsay
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| n.谣传，风闻 | |
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44
skunk
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| n.臭鼬，黄鼠狼；v.使惨败，使得零分；烂醉如泥 | |
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45
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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46
memento
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| n.纪念品，令人回忆的东西 | |
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47
pals
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| n.朋友( pal的名词复数 )；老兄；小子；（对男子的不友好的称呼）家伙 | |
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48
pal
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| n.朋友，伙伴，同志；vi.结为友 | |
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49
snob
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| n.势利小人，自以为高雅、有学问的人 | |
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50
doughty
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| adj.勇猛的，坚强的 | |
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51
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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52
bribed
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| v.贿赂( bribe的过去式和过去分词 )；向（某人）行贿，贿赂 | |
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53
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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54
liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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55
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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56
putrid
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| adj.腐臭的；有毒的；已腐烂的；卑劣的 | |
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