Cheer Boys Cheer: The Boys' Journal, No. 62 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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20 that another minute of it would be more than he could bear, te found himself at the top of the staircase, pushed open the. secret. door, and fairly fell into the study. . - Gawler, following, stumbled. over him. There they lay for a few moments without word or movement, both near to exhaustion. Then the Rooshian, who had not the disad- vantage of a heavy body across him, struggi7i up, and flung open the window-sash. The fresh air of night flowed into the room, and Quinthred drew deep breaths of it, and felt better. He got up. After the absolute blackness of the passages, the dark- ness here seemed only dusk. In it Gawler and he looked at one another's faces, curious pale blurs in the dimness. “T won't ask you for an explana- tion now, Gawler,” said Quinthred. “We'll leave that for to-morrow.” “Explanation! I jolly well like that! How did you come to be following me? Tell me that, will your” Really, on the whole, it did seem that the Rooshian had as much claim to an explanation as his rival adven- turer. It was almost as likely that he would get as that he would give one, however. “You're very grateful!” said Quinthred scornfully. “Grateful! Why should I be ” “A decent fellow——”’ ““A decent fellow wouldn’t make a song and dance about helping another chap out, when he knew the way and the other didn’t!”’ broke in Gawier. “Perhaps not; but I rather fancy if it had been the other way round 2 “Td have left you to rot down there? By jingo, I believe I would, too! I hate you, Quinthred—that’s a fact; and, as there aren’t any wit- nesses, I don’t mind teliing you that, if you dog me again—if you don’t keep your ugly nose out of my affairs—I’ll do you a mischief! And “TH take jolly good care it can’t be traced to me, too!”’ “ After that, I think you'd better clear out!” said Quinthred. ~ “I'm going. But just remember what I say!” And next moment the Rooshian had gone. Stooping to unfasten the string that had proved so useful, Quin- thred was seized by sudden nausea and giddiness. He could scarcely crawl up to bed. Taking it altogether, the quest had scarcely started well. CHAPTER IX. At the Nets. Whybrow looked in just after morning classes next day. “You're a cricketer, I suppose, Quinthred?”’ he said. ce Yes.” “Oh, decent, I suppose!” : Quinthred’s last season’s average had been well over forty...He had CHEER BOYS CHEER, grown accustomed to carrying a team on his shoulders, so to speak. “But Windlesthorpe cricket was doubtless of higher class than that of his old ‘school, and he did not care to open his mouth too widely. * Bowler ?”’ ** Oh, yes!” * Pace?”’ * Pastish.’’ “Do you mean fast-medium, or really fast?’’ “Well, I think I may say really fast. Above fast-medium, anyhow.” “That’s good! We want a bowler of pace. Perhaps you’re the very man.” “There’s the Rooshian,”’ put in Gale. “There is Gawler, certainly,” replied Whybrow, in his cool way. “ But I shouldn’t mind lighting on something a bit better than he is. Will you get on your flannels and come down to the twenty-two nets, Quinthred ?”’ é “Me, too?’ inquired the Hurri- cane. “Oh, yes! You may scrape into the twenty-two this season, though I doubt it.” : Whybrow went. The two hurried off to change. “T’ve something up my sieeve,” remarked Gale, fumbling in getting his shirt over his head. “You can’t get your arm there, unless you go to work differently,” returned Quinthred. “ Here, let me help you. There you are.” “Whybrow thinks I’m a bit of a duffer and a good deal of a slacker. He’s wrong, though. I did slack a bit last summer, but I’m. not a duffer. And I put in a lot of cricket last summer hols.; was staying with a chap who had a pro. to coach him. And I really believe I came on no end. Anyway, I made a century against pretty decent bowling, and I'd never topped fifty before. Why- brow thinks [ may scrape into the twenty-two, but I’m going to have a shot for the eleven, you bet!” “Good luck to you, old man! Think I shall have a chance?”’ “You? Why, you'll simply walk in, Quint !’’ As they passed their study on the way down Quinthred halted. A curious gurgling noise came from the next room. “That’s Gawler’s?”’ he asked. -* Yes,”? answered Gale, who had not heard. ‘“ But I say “A Quinthred had pushed the door open before he could finish his pro- test. On the hearthrug lay little Sharp. His legs were tied together, his heels trussed up almost to the back of his thighs, and his wrists fastened to his knees. Moreover, he was roughly gagged, and the sound Quinthred had caught as he passed was due to his trying under this dis- advantage to make himself heard in an. appeal for help. Quinthred cut the bonds at once. “Poor little beggar!” said the Hurricane, as Sharp, his pale face reddened by his struggles with the gag, lay gasping. © “IT needn't ask who did this, said Quinthred. “You needn’t,” returned Gale. “JT don’t suppose, for that matter, the kid would tell you if you did.” “Qh, yes, he would; don’t you make any mistake about that ! You're not to fag for Gawler any more, young “un—do you hear?” “T say, Quinthred, he'll be on to me worse than ever !” “Keep out of his way. I'll attend to him if necessary.” “You can’t, you know, Quint— it’s only Whybrow or the Flamingo who——” ; “T can! If necessary, I'l speak to Whybrow or Mr. Flamank. I'm not going to have kids tortured next door to us.” “* What’s that?’ roared Gawler. “T think you heard,’ replied Quinthred coolly. “Sharp isn’t to fag for you again.” “Who says so?” “T say so." - “What, have they made you house captain already? I hadn’t heard of Whybrow’s resigning.” “Cut, kid,’ said Quinthred kindly. ‘Touch him if you dare!” he added, as the bully stretched out a big hand; and his voice rang out like a trumpet’s challenge to battle then, and somehow the Rooshian let little Sharp slip past him. : “* This sort of thing can’t be done,” said Gawler lamely. i “No. TH see that it isn’t,” Quin- thred replied, wilfully misunder- standing him. ‘“‘ Come along, Gale. This specimen knows how things stand now.” Gawler was also in flannels, but he did not at once follow them to the playing-fields. 5 ** You fellows have been some time,” remarked Whybrow, who was bat- ting in one of the nets. ‘Send me down a few, will you, Quinthred?” The first ball the new fellow sent down fairly opened the eyes of Windiestherpe or such of Windles- thorpe as saw it. Very fast, and pitching a perfect length, it came in a little from the off, and flicked away the bails. ** My word!” murmured Marne. It was something of a feat to get past Whybrow’s defence, even at the nets, for he teok his practice seriously; but that ball might have bowled anybody. No mere fiuke, either! Quinthred had the ability to pitch a length, which is lacking in so many would- be fast bowlers; his action was per- fect, and the inch or two of break was far more effective than a bigger . break on a slower ball could have been. “That puts the Rooshian’s nose out of joint,” remarked Dunn. “Oh, the Rooshian !”’ said Hollis- Browne contemptuously. ‘He never was a bowler. To my mind, his action’s a chuck, pure and simple; he can’t keep—no, ‘he can’t get— a length——” “And he bowled you twice for a duck in the Form match last year, old man,” put in Browne secundus. Now Gawler came up. He had few = = Lies = “s i] = Es (pr a ) 7 al Wianl 4a) ce) » Cconniclooolks.<eo —~S (AA