As its captain he had striven hard, particularly on the athletic2 side, to keep it well in the picture, and there was evidence of his zeal3 in the hall, where the County Schools' cricket-shield now hung. Moreover, he had steered4 the Socker team into the final of the football cup, and there was still a chance of winning that and bringing off the double event.
Never had a winter term started with greater possibilities, yet Dick entered upon it with leaden feet and downcast spirits. It appeared to him that, unless something approaching a miracle happened in less than a fortnight, a storm would burst over his head that he would be unable to weather. He would have to pack up stealthily and go.
With frank or half-concealed curiosity everybody stared at his bruised5 face and half-closed optic. Old Man Wykeham, in discussing with him the prospects6 of the term, seemed to have eyes for nothing other than those scars of battle; Mr. Rooke was even more inquisitive7, and made no bones about asking him the reason of it.
"I'd rather not say, sir, if you don't mind," Dick answered.
How long, he wondered, would the story of yesterday's encounter be in making its way to Foxenby? By anyone mischievously8 disposed towards him, it might so easily be described as "a pothouse brawl9".
His fears in this direction were only too well grounded. Lyon, the cup-team's doughty10 full-back, speedily brushed away his last hope that the affair might never reach the school.
"I say, Forge, old man, somebody's set a nasty tale about concerning you," said the full-back anxiously.
"Why, what's being said?" Dick inquired, fearing the worst.
"Oh, some tin-pot yarn12 about you picking a quarrel with a yokel13 in Moston—a stupid clown who couldn't fight for toffee. The impression is that you were showing off your superior pugilistic skill, and that you sort of butchered this unscientific chawbacon to make a Moston holiday. Awful rot, of course, but what did actually happen?"
Dick groaned14 in spirit. Was he never to enjoy a minute's freedom from malice15? There could be no doubt about it—Lyon was looking hard and pointedly16 at his battered17 and still-swollen face, and it was that close scrutiny18 which proved Dick's undoing19. With all his nerves on edge he lost his temper.
"Well, Lyon, if you like to believe lots of confounded tosh, it's your own affair entirely20," he burst out. "Let the old woman's tale go round the school. I shall take no trouble to contradict it!"
He left Lyon gasping21 there, and went off in search of the only person from whom he seemed likely to gain any sympathy—Roger Cayton, to wit. But Roger had not yet arrived, nor was there any sign that his baggage had come on in front of him.
The absence of the Prefect of Rooke's House on the first day of a new term was a matter of some concern, and Dick at once reported it to Mr. Rooke.
"I was just coming to see you about that very matter, Forge," the housemaster said. "Cayton's father has written to say that the poor lad is down with cerebral22 inflammation."
"Ill!" exclaimed Dick, blankly.
"Rather seriously, I fear. Over-study during the holidays, his father says. Been working hard, unknown to the rest of the family, when he ought to have been in bed. Trying to make sure of his Varsity scholarship, no doubt."
"Do—do you think I could get leave to go and see him, sir?" stammered23 Dick, pale of face and visibly distressed24.
"No use if you could, Forge. They wouldn't admit you to a delirious25 patient. Better wait and hope for the best. I'll let you know the bulletins as they arrive, or you can write for information yourself."
Calamity26 on calamities27! Trouble heaped on trouble, pressed down and brimming over. Deprived of the moral support of his trustiest friend, Dick had now to face his editorial dilemma28 entirely alone, with the added anguish29 of knowing that Roger might succumb30 to the fever and be for ever lost to him.
No shame to the Captain of Foxenby that he locked himself in his study—their study—that night, and, with his head buried in his-arms, gave way to silent sobbing31. The slings32 and arrows of outrageous33 fortune were coming too fast about his ears—it was more than human endurance could be expected to withstand!
He was soon bitterly angry with himself for this outburst of grief. He, the Captain of Foxenby, blubbering like a First Form kid with the toothache! A smile must be pumped up from somewhere for that last walk along the dormitories—poor old Roger's work if he had been there. It must never be said that Foxenby's Captain went to bed, on the first night of the term, with a countenance34 as long as a fiddle35.
Pride brought the smile, and sheer physical weariness—the reaction of yesterday's fight—the sleep. And in the morning his damaged eye was heaps better, and the marks of Juddy's fist were far less noticeable. So Dick set about his duties with philosophical36 resignation, determined37 to look facts in the face, intent on wearing a mask of nonchalance38 which would deceive all but the shrewdest boys around him.
One of his first ordeals39 was to eat humble40-pie over the Rooke's House Rag. With many pen-scratchings and painful recommencements, he prepared and pinned on the notice-board the following announcement:—
THE ROOKE'S HOUSE RAG
Subscribers to the above Magazine are notified that, pending42 the recovery of the funds lost in the burglary last term, the publication of the Rag has been temporarily suspended. As soon as arrangements can be made its issue will certainly be renewed. In the meantime, any Subscriber41 who desires the return of his unexpired subscription43 may receive it on application to the undersigned,
Richard Forge,
Editor.
"The flaw in that literary 'wangle'," thought Dick, as he gazed ruefully at the foolscap sheet, "is the rash promise to refund44 unexpired subscriptions45. If many of the Foxes take advantage of that, I shall be cleaned out of 'tin' for the rest of the term."
He walked off sharply as though from an unclean thing. Had he turned his head, he would have seen that Luke Harwood was the first to read his public confession46 of failure. And he might have had some of his laudable faith in human nature torn from him could he have observed the self-satisfied smirk47 on the face of The Foxonian's editor. "I told him so—I knew it," was the verbal key to that smug expression.
Luke Harwood had reason to feel at peace with all the world to-day. After long waiting, things were coming his way at last. This humble suspension of the Rag would not be exactly popular with those who had subscribed48 to it. They would laugh ironically at the clause "pending the recovery of the funds lost". How very likely that the burglars, conscience-stricken, were saving up stolen money for an opportunity of returning it! Then there was that ugly affair at the public-house—the fight with the ignorant yokel. Very severe things were being said about that in school. If any other Fox had been guilty of a vulgar scrap49 in such squalid surroundings, would not Forge himself, as captain, have reported the offender50 to the Head? Then, the School was asking, why did not he report himself?
Oh, truly, reflected Luke, when the annual election of Foxenby's captain took place at Easter, it would not be altogether such a walk-over for Dick Forge as it had been in the two previous years!
During the rest of that miserable51 week, better news of Roger provided the only relief to the background of dull misery52. Roger, his father wrote to say, had made a wonderful recovery, and was already itching53 to get back to school. Such good tidings served to sustain Dick's pluck as he saw, on almost every side, the growing animosity towards him. It was suspicious, too, that nobody had asked for a return of a subscription to the Rag. Was that also a conspiracy54 against him—a sort of half-veiled boycott55? Even Lyon, that reliable old football warhorse, avoided him whenever possible. Forge was distinctly in the School's black books this term.
Feeling almost an outcast, Dick grew morose56 and silent, and it was with difficulty that he spoke57 civilly to Robin58 Arkness, leader of the Merry Men, when that bland59 young gentleman accosted60 him outside his study door.
The quite unexpected answer took him, metaphorically62 speaking, off his feet.
"Oh, please, Forge, will you sign your name in my autograph album?" asked Robin, producing from behind his back an oblong book in a somewhat grubby, red-leather binding63.
"Why, kid, what's the game? No nonsense, now? I've a pretty rough way of dealing64 with Juniors who try to pull my leg."
"Oh, honour bright, Forge, I want your autograph ever so much," declared Robin with the utmost gravity. "Put it here, please, on the page I keep for footballers and boxers65."
"Boxers! What are you driving at, you little monkey? You are trying to pull my leg, after all!"
"Indeed, no, Forge! Do sign. There, underneath67 the autograph of the light-weight champion of the world."
Dick found himself breathing rather fast as he looked from Robin to the book, and from the book back to Robin again.
"Though you don't seem to realize it, younker, this is rather a tender subject for me," he said at last, quietly. "You say you want me to sign your book amongst the footballers and boxers! Footballer I may be, in a measure, but why boxer66?"
"Because you beat big Juddy Stockgill to a frazzle on the Anvil68 Inn bowling-green," Robin replied, almost reverently69.
"But that's not what the School thinks, kid. Foxenby's opinion is that, for swank, I selected a nice, fat, juicy victim, and used him as a punching-ball. Have you heard a different story?"
"No, Forge. But one of the—that is, somebody said they'd seen it was Juddy Stockgill you walloped, and I know what a big brute71 he is, 'cos my uncle had a farm next to the one where Juddy works. And he must have been doing something rotten, or you wouldn't have struck him, Forge."
Here was a golden opportunity to put things right, and Dick, after slightly hesitating, took it.
"Juddy and his choice associates were knocking Fluffy72 Jim about rather badly," he said. "I chipped in because of that, kid, and not for personal glory. You believe me, I suppose?"
"Up to the hilt, Forge! You're a 'white man'. Sign my book, please, so's I can 'hop11' it back to 'prep'."
With a cheerier laugh than he had uttered for weeks, Dick did himself the unsought honour of placing his signature beneath that of the world's light-weight boxing champion, and Robin cleared off contentedly73.
"Never say die, after all," Dick told himself, more hopefully. "With Robin Hood74 and his Merry Men behind me, and Roger burning to get back to my side, I think I can discern a tiny rift75 in the clouds at last!"
点击收听单词发音
1 joyful | |
adj.欢乐的,令人欢欣的 | |
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2 athletic | |
adj.擅长运动的,强健的;活跃的,体格健壮的 | |
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3 zeal | |
n.热心,热情,热忱 | |
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4 steered | |
v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 );操纵;控制;引导 | |
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5 bruised | |
[医]青肿的,瘀紫的 | |
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6 prospects | |
n.希望,前途(恒为复数) | |
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7 inquisitive | |
adj.求知欲强的,好奇的,好寻根究底的 | |
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8 mischievously | |
adv.有害地;淘气地 | |
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9 brawl | |
n.大声争吵,喧嚷;v.吵架,对骂 | |
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10 doughty | |
adj.勇猛的,坚强的 | |
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11 hop | |
n.单脚跳,跳跃;vi.单脚跳,跳跃;着手做某事;vt.跳跃,跃过 | |
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12 yarn | |
n.纱,纱线,纺线;奇闻漫谈,旅行轶事 | |
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13 yokel | |
n.乡下人;农夫 | |
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14 groaned | |
v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 );发牢骚;抱怨;受苦 | |
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15 malice | |
n.恶意,怨恨,蓄意;[律]预谋 | |
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16 pointedly | |
adv.尖地,明显地 | |
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17 battered | |
adj.磨损的;v.连续猛击;磨损 | |
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18 scrutiny | |
n.详细检查,仔细观察 | |
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19 undoing | |
n.毁灭的原因,祸根;破坏,毁灭 | |
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20 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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21 gasping | |
adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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22 cerebral | |
adj.脑的,大脑的;有智力的,理智型的 | |
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23 stammered | |
v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24 distressed | |
痛苦的 | |
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25 delirious | |
adj.不省人事的,神智昏迷的 | |
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26 calamity | |
n.灾害,祸患,不幸事件 | |
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27 calamities | |
n.灾祸,灾难( calamity的名词复数 );不幸之事 | |
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28 dilemma | |
n.困境,进退两难的局面 | |
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29 anguish | |
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼 | |
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30 succumb | |
v.屈服,屈从;死 | |
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31 sobbing | |
<主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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32 slings | |
抛( sling的第三人称单数 ); 吊挂; 遣送; 押往 | |
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33 outrageous | |
adj.无理的,令人不能容忍的 | |
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34 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
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35 fiddle | |
n.小提琴;vi.拉提琴;不停拨弄,乱动 | |
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36 philosophical | |
adj.哲学家的,哲学上的,达观的 | |
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37 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
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38 nonchalance | |
n.冷淡,漠不关心 | |
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39 ordeals | |
n.严峻的考验,苦难的经历( ordeal的名词复数 ) | |
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40 humble | |
adj.谦卑的,恭顺的;地位低下的;v.降低,贬低 | |
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41 subscriber | |
n.用户,订户;(慈善机关等的)定期捐款者;预约者;签署者 | |
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42 pending | |
prep.直到,等待…期间;adj.待定的;迫近的 | |
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43 subscription | |
n.预订,预订费,亲笔签名,调配法,下标(处方) | |
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44 refund | |
v.退还,偿还;n.归还,偿还额,退款 | |
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45 subscriptions | |
n.(报刊等的)订阅费( subscription的名词复数 );捐款;(俱乐部的)会员费;捐助 | |
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46 confession | |
n.自白,供认,承认 | |
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47 smirk | |
n.得意地笑;v.傻笑;假笑着说 | |
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48 subscribed | |
v.捐助( subscribe的过去式和过去分词 );签署,题词;订阅;同意 | |
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49 scrap | |
n.碎片;废料;v.废弃,报废 | |
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50 offender | |
n.冒犯者,违反者,犯罪者 | |
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51 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
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52 misery | |
n.痛苦,苦恼,苦难;悲惨的境遇,贫苦 | |
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53 itching | |
adj.贪得的,痒的,渴望的v.发痒( itch的现在分词 ) | |
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54 conspiracy | |
n.阴谋,密谋,共谋 | |
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55 boycott | |
n./v.(联合)抵制,拒绝参与 | |
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56 morose | |
adj.脾气坏的,不高兴的 | |
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57 spoke | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
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58 robin | |
n.知更鸟,红襟鸟 | |
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59 bland | |
adj.淡而无味的,温和的,无刺激性的 | |
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60 accosted | |
v.走过去跟…讲话( accost的过去式和过去分词 );跟…搭讪;(乞丐等)上前向…乞讨;(妓女等)勾搭 | |
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61 irritably | |
ad.易生气地 | |
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62 metaphorically | |
adv. 用比喻地 | |
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63 binding | |
有约束力的,有效的,应遵守的 | |
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64 dealing | |
n.经商方法,待人态度 | |
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65 boxers | |
n.拳击短裤;(尤指职业)拳击手( boxer的名词复数 );拳师狗 | |
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66 boxer | |
n.制箱者,拳击手 | |
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67 underneath | |
adj.在...下面,在...底下;adv.在下面 | |
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68 anvil | |
n.铁钻 | |
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69 reverently | |
adv.虔诚地 | |
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70 gasped | |
v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 );喘息;倒抽气;很想要 | |
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71 brute | |
n.野兽,兽性 | |
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72 fluffy | |
adj.有绒毛的,空洞的 | |
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73 contentedly | |
adv.心满意足地 | |
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74 hood | |
n.头巾,兜帽,覆盖;v.罩上,以头巾覆盖 | |
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75 rift | |
n.裂口,隙缝,切口;v.裂开,割开,渗入 | |
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