Conclusion

    Into the story at this point comes the narrative of Charles MereweatherCook, aged fourteen, a day-boy.

　　Cook arrived at the school on the tenth of March, at precisely nineo'clock, in a state of excitement.

　　He said there was a row on in the town.

　　Cross-examined, he said there was no end of a row on in the town.

　　During morning school he explained further, whispering his tale intothe attentive ear of Knight of the School House, who sat next to him.

　　What sort of a row, Knight wanted to know.

　　Cook deposed that he had been riding on his bicycle past the entranceto the Recreation Grounds on his way to school, when his eye wasattracted by the movements of a mass of men just inside the gate. Theyappeared to be fighting. Witness did not stop to watch, much as hewould have liked to do so. Why not? Why, because he was late already,and would have had to scorch anyhow, in order to get to school in time.

　　And he had been late the day before, and was afraid that old Appleby(the master of the form) would give him beans if he were late again.

　　Wherefore he had no notion of what the men were fighting about, but hebetted that more would be heard about it. Why? Because, from what hesaw of it, it seemed a jolly big thing. There must have been quitethree hundred men fighting. (Knight, satirically, "_Pile_ it on!")Well, quite a hundred, anyhow. Fifty a side. And fighting likeanything. He betted there would be something about it in the_Wrykyn_ _Patriot_ tomorrow. He shouldn't wonder if somebodyhad been killed. What were they scrapping about? How should _he_know!

　　Here Mr Appleby, who had been trying for the last five minutes to findout where the whispering noise came from, at length traced it to itssource, and forthwith requested Messrs Cook and Knight to do him twohundred lines, adding that, if he heard them talking again, he wouldput them into the extra lesson. Silence reigned from that moment.

　　Next day, while the form was wrestling with the moderately excitingaccount of Caesar's doings in Gaul, Master Cook produced from hispocket a newspaper cutting. This, having previously planted a forcibleblow in his friend's ribs with an elbow to attract the latter'sattention, he handed to Knight, and in dumb show requested him toperuse the same. Which Knight, feeling no interest whatever in Caesar'sdoings in Gaul, and having, in consequence, a good deal of time on hishands, proceeded to do. The cutting was headed "Disgraceful Fracas",and was written in the elegant style that was always so marked afeature of the _Wrykyn Patriot_.

　　"We are sorry to have to report," it ran, "another of those deplorableebullitions of local Hooliganism, to which it has before now been ourpainful duty to refer. Yesterday the Recreation Grounds were made thescene of as brutal an exhibition of savagery as has ever marred thefair fame of this town. Our readers will remember how on a previousoccasion, when the fine statue of Sir Eustace Briggs was found coveredwith tar, we attributed the act to the malevolence of the Radicalsection of the community. Events have proved that we were right.

　　Yesterday a body of youths, belonging to the rival party, wasdiscovered in the very act of repeating the offence. A thick coating oftar had already been administered, when several members of the rivalfaction appeared. A free fight of a peculiarly violent natureimmediately ensued, with the result that, before the police couldinterfere, several of the combatants had received severe bruises.

　　Fortunately the police then arrived on the scene, and with greatdifficulty succeeded in putting a stop to the _fracas_. Severalarrests were made.

　　"We have no desire to discourage legitimate party rivalry, but we feeljustified in strongly protesting against such dastardly tricks as thoseto which we have referred. We can assure our opponents that they cangain nothing by such conduct."There was a good deal more to the effect that now was the time for allgood men to come to the aid of the party, and that the constituents ofSir Eustace Briggs must look to it that they failed not in the hour ofneed, and so on. That was what the _Wrykyn Patriot_ had to say onthe subject.

　　O'Hara managed to get hold of a copy of the paper, and showed it toClowes and Trevor.

　　"So now," he said, "it's all right, ye see. They'll never suspect itwasn't the same people that tarred the statue both times. An' ye've gotthe bat back, so it's all right, ye see.""The only thing that'll trouble you now," said Clowes, "will be yourconscience."O'Hara intimated that he would try and put up with that.

　　"But isn't it a stroke of luck," he said, "that they should have goneand tarred Sir Eustace again so soon after Moriarty and I did it?"Clowes said gravely that it only showed the force of good example.

　　"Yes. They wouldn't have thought of it, if it hadn't been for us,"chortled O'Hara. "I wonder, now, if there's anything else we could doto that statue!" he added, meditatively.

　　"My good lunatic," said Clowes, "don't you think you've done almostenough for one term?""Well, 'myes," replied O'Hara thoughtfully, "perhaps we have, Isuppose."* * * * *The term wore on. Donaldson's won the final house-match by a matter oftwenty-six points. It was, as they had expected, one of the easiestgames they had had to play in the competition. Bryant's, who were theiropponents, were not strong, and had only managed to get into the finalowing to their luck in drawing weak opponents for the trial heats. Thereal final, that had decided the ownership of the cup, had beenDonaldson's _v._ Seymour's.

　　Aldershot arrived, and the sports. Drummond and O'Hara coveredthemselves with glory, and brought home silver medals. But Moriarty, tothe disappointment of the school, which had counted on his pulling offthe middles, met a strenuous gentleman from St Paul's in the final, andwas prematurely outed in the first minute of the third round. To him,therefore, there fell but a medal of bronze.

　　It was on the Sunday after the sports that Trevor's connection with thebat ceased--as far, that is to say, as concerned its unpleasantcharacter (as a piece of evidence that might be used to hisdisadvantage). He had gone to supper with the headmaster, accompaniedby Clowes and Milton. The headmaster nearly always invited a few of thehouse prefects to Sunday supper during the term. Sir Eustace Briggshappened to be there. He had withdrawn his insinuations concerning thepart supposedly played by a member of the school in the matter of thetarred statue, and the headmaster had sealed the _ententecordiale_ by asking him to supper.

　　An ordinary man might have considered it best to keep off the delicatesubject. Not so Sir Eustace Briggs. He was on to it like glue. Hetalked of little else throughout the whole course of the meal.

　　"My suspicions," he boomed, towards the conclusion of the feast, "whichhave, I am rejoiced to say, proved so entirely void of foundation andsignificance, were aroused in the first instance, as I mentionedbefore, by the narrative of the man Samuel Wapshott."Nobody present showed the slightest desire to learn what the man SamuelWapshott had had to say for himself, but Sir Eustace, undismayed,continued as if the whole table were hanging on his words.

　　"The man Samuel Wapshott," he said, "distinctly asserted that a smallgold ornament, shaped like a bat, was handed by him to a lad of agecoeval with these lads here."The headmaster interposed. He had evidently heard more than enough ofthe man Samuel Wapshott.

　　"He must have been mistaken," he said briefly. "The bat which Trevor iswearing on his watch-chain at this moment is the only one of its kindthat I know of. You have never lost it, Trevor?"Trevor thought for a moment. _He_ had never lost it. He replieddiplomatically, "It has been in a drawer nearly all the term, sir," hesaid.

　　"A drawer, hey?" remarked Sir Eustace Briggs. "Ah! A very sensibleplace to keep it in, my boy. You could have no better place, in myopinion."And Trevor agreed with him, with the mental reservationthat it rather depended on whom the drawer belonged to.

The End