Chapter 9 Mainly About Ferets

    "Ow!" exclaimed the captive, with no uncertain voice. "Let go, you ass,you're hurting."The voice was a treble voice. This surprised O'Hara. It looked verymuch as if he had put up the wrong bird. From the dimensions of the armwhich he was holding, his prisoner seemed to be of tender years.

　　"Let go, Harvey, you idiot. I shall kick."Before the threat could be put into execution, O'Hara, who had beenfumbling all this while in his pocket for a match, found one loose, andstruck a light. The features of the owner of the arm--he was stillholding it--were lit up for a moment.

　　"Why, it's young Renford!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing downhere?"Renford, however, continued to pursue the topic of his arm, and theeffect that the vice-like grip of the Irishman had had upon it.

　　"You've nearly broken it," he said, complainingly.

　　"I'm sorry. I mistook you for somebody else. Who's that with you?""It's me," said an ungrammatical voice.

　　"Who's me?""Harvey."At this point a soft yellow light lit up the more immediateneighbourhood. Harvey had brought a bicycle lamp into action.

　　"That's more like it," said Renford. "Look here, O'Hara, you won'tsplit, will you?""I'm not an informer by profession, thanks," said O'Hara.

　　"Oh, I know it's all right, really, but you can't be too careful,because one isn't allowed down here, and there'd be a beastly row if itgot out about our being down here.""And _they_ would be cobbed," put in Harvey.

　　"Who are they?" asked O'Hara.

　　"Ferrets. Like to have a look at them?""_Ferrets!_""Yes. Harvey brought back a couple at the beginning of term. Rippinglittle beasts. We couldn't keep them in the house, as they'd have gotdropped on in a second, so we had to think of somewhere else, andthought why not keep them down here?""Why, indeed?" said O'Hara. "Do ye find they like it?""Oh, _they_ don't mind," said Harvey. "We feed 'em twice a day.

　　Once before breakfast--we take it in turns to get up early--and oncedirectly after school. And on half-holidays and Sundays we take themout on to the downs.""What for?""Why, rabbits, of course. Renford brought back a saloon-pistol withhim. We keep it locked up in a box--don't tell any one.""And what do ye do with the rabbits?""We pot at them as they come out of the holes.""Yes, but when ye hit 'em?""Oh," said Renford, with some reluctance, "we haven't exactly hit anyyet.""We've got jolly near, though, lots of times," said Harvey. "LastSaturday I swear I wasn't more than a quarter of an inch off one ofthem. If it had been a decent-sized rabbit, I should have plugged itmiddle stump; only it was a small one, so I missed. But come and seethem. We keep 'em right at the other end of the place, in case anybodycomes in.""Have you ever seen anybody down here?" asked O'Hara.

　　"Once," said Renford. "Half-a-dozen chaps came down here once while wewere feeding the ferrets. We waited till they'd got well in, then wenipped out quietly. They didn't see us.""Did you see who they were?""No. It was too dark. Here they are. Rummy old crib this, isn't it?

　　Look out for your shins on the chairs. Switch on the light, Harvey.

　　There, aren't they rippers? Quite tame, too. They know us quite well.

　　They know they're going to be fed, too. Hullo, Sir Nigel! This is SirNigel. Out of the 'White Company', you know. Don't let him nip yourfingers. This other one's Sherlock Holmes.""Cats-s-s--s!!" said O'Hara. He had a sort of idea that that was theright thing to say to any animal that could chase and bite.

　　Renford was delighted to be able to show his ferrets off to sodistinguished a visitor.

　　"What were you down here about?" inquired Harvey, when the littleanimals had had their meal, and had retired once more into privatelife.

　　O'Hara had expected this question, but he did not quite know whatanswer to give. Perhaps, on the whole, he thought, it would be best totell them the real reason. If he refused to explain, their curiositywould be roused, which would be fatal. And to give any reason exceptthe true one called for a display of impromptu invention of which hewas not capable. Besides, they would not be likely to give away hissecret while he held this one of theirs connected with the ferrets. Heexplained the situation briefly, and swore them to silence on thesubject.

　　Renford's comment was brief.

　　"By Jove!" he observed.

　　Harvey went more deeply into the question.

　　"What makes you think they meet down here?" he asked.

　　"I saw some fellows cutting out of here last night. And you say ye'veseen them here, too. I don't see what object they could have down hereif they weren't the League holding a meeting. I don't see what else achap would be after.""He might be keeping ferrets," hazarded Renford.

　　"The whole school doesn't keep ferrets," said O'Hara. "You're unique inthat way. No, it must be the League, an' I mean to wait here till theycome.""Not all night?" asked Harvey. He had a great respect for O'Hara, whosereputation in the school for out-of-the-way doings was considerable. Inthe bright lexicon of O'Hara he believed there to be no such word as"impossible.""No," said O'Hara, "but till lock-up. You two had better cut now.""Yes, I think we'd better," said Harvey.

　　"And don't ye breathe a word about this to a soul"--a warning whichextracted fervent promises of silence from both youths.

　　"This," said Harvey, as they emerged on to the gravel, "is somethinglike. I'm jolly glad we're in it.""Rather. Do you think O'Hara will catch them?""He must if he waits down there long enough. They're certain to comeagain. Don't you wish you'd been here when the League was on before?""I should think I did. Race you over to the shop. I want to getsomething before it shuts.""Right ho!" And they disappeared.

　　O'Hara waited where he was till six struck from the clock-tower,followed by the sound of the bell as it rang for lock-up. Then hepicked his way carefully through the groves of chairs, barking hisshins now and then on their out-turned legs, and, pushing open thedoor, went out into the open air. It felt very fresh and pleasant afterthe brand of atmosphere supplied in the vault. He then ran over to thegymnasium to meet Moriarty, feeling a little disgusted at the lack ofsuccess that had attended his detective efforts up to the present. Sofar he had nothing to show for his trouble except a good deal of duston his clothes, and a dirty collar, but he was full of determination.

　　He could play a waiting game.

　　It was a pity, as it happened, that O'Hara left the vault when he did.

　　Five minutes after he had gone, six shadowy forms made their waysilently and in single file through the doorway of the vault, whichthey closed carefully behind them. The fact that it was after lock-upwas of small consequence. A good deal of latitude in that way wasallowed at Wrykyn. It was the custom to go out, after the bell hadsounded, to visit the gymnasium. In the winter and Easter terms, thegymnasium became a sort of social club. People went there with a verysmall intention of doing gymnastics. They went to lounge about, talkingto cronies, in front of the two huge stoves which warmed the place.

　　Occasionally, as a concession to the look of the thing, they would doan easy exercise or two on the horse or parallels, but, for the mostpart, they preferred the _role_ of spectator. There was plenty tosee. In one corner O'Hara and Moriarty would be sparring their nightlysix rounds (in two batches of three rounds each). In another, Drummond,who was going up to Aldershot as a feather-weight, would be putting ina little practice with the instructor. On the apparatus, the members ofthe gymnastic six, including the two experts who were to carry theschool colours to Aldershot in the spring, would be performing theirusual marvels. It was worth dropping into the gymnasium of an evening.

　　In no other place in the school were so many sights to be seen.

　　When you were surfeited with sightseeing, you went off to your house.

　　And this was where the peculiar beauty of the gymnasium system came in.

　　You went up to any master who happened to be there--there was alwaysone at least--and observed in suave accents, "Please, sir, can I have apaper?" Whereupon, he, taking a scrap of paper, would write upon it,"J. O. Jones (or A. B. Smith or C. D. Robinson) left gymnasium atsuch-and-such a time". And, by presenting this to the menial whoopened the door to you at your house, you went in rejoicing, and allwas peace.

　　Now, there was no mention on the paper of the hour at which you came tothe gymnasium--only of the hour at which you left. Consequently, certainlawless spirits would range the neighbourhood after lock-up, and, byputting in a quarter of an hour at the gymnasium before returning totheir houses, escape comment. To this class belonged the shadowy formspreviously mentioned.

　　O'Hara had forgotten this custom, with the result that he was not atthe vault when they arrived. Moriarty, to whom he confided between therounds the substance of his evening's discoveries, reminded him of it.

　　"It's no good watching before lock-up," he said. "After six is the timethey'll come, if they come at all.""Bedad, ye're right," said O'Hara. "One of these nights we'll take anight off from boxing, and go and watch.""Right," said Moriarty. "Are ye ready to go on?""Yes. I'm going to practise that left swing at the body this round. Theone Fitzsimmons does." And they "put 'em up" once more.