TODD PAYS THE BILL
Another youth had come back to St. Amory's with resolutions as fixed and steady, though more legitimate than Acton's. Augustus Vernon Robert Todd returned to school with pockets more scantily lined than ever from the parental source, with his mind constantly fixed on the conversation which he had had with his house-master on that awful concluding day last term, and his chin still thrust out valiantly. Gus's square chin meant an undeviating attention to serious study, and Gus, armed cap-à-pie, against all his old friends.
For Todd had taken his precautions. His watch—a gold one, "jewelled in numberless holes," as its owner pathetically remarked—had been left with the family jeweller for three bright golden sovereigns, an eight-and-six brass turnip, which went jolly well, although its tick was a trifle vigorous under Gus's pillow, and an agreement. This document, drawn up by himself, Gus regarded as a very masterpiece of business-like acumen. Gus could have his gold watch back again within the year by paying three sovereigns, and buying the brass turnip for half a sovereign, the profit accruing on this latter transaction being, as Gus explained proudly, the jeweller's percentage on the loan. The family jeweller had informed Gus casually that he couldn't keep a wife and growing family on such percentages, but to oblige, etc.
Todd received Mr. James Cotton blandly and politely, and Jim, in his heavy way, mistook this airiness for non-paying symptoms on Gus's part.
"Had a good time, old cock, during the holidays?"
"Beastly," said Gus.
"Governor rusty?"
"No end. Been making the will again, and leaving me out."
"Perry fiasco, eh?"
"Yes, and other things."
"Well, I hope you can pay up all you owe me, old chap."
"Oh yes!" said Gus. "I said I would keep my word, although you were so good as to have your doubts."
"All right, glad you can manage it."
"Here you are," said Gus, thrusting his hand into his pocket and bringing up his coins. "Three three for that rotten bet, and the other fifteen bob I owed you. It's all there."
Cotton opened his eyes.
"You said the governor was rusty, Gus?"
"So he was, beastly; but I can pay you all the same."
"Well," said Cotton, after a little awkward pause, "I don't want to clean you out quite, so pay half now and the rest next term. Would that suit you better, Gus?"
"Thanks, I don't mind," said Gus, airily. "Here's half, then."
Cotton left his friend's room considerably puzzled, but when he came next night with his books for his old jackal's attentions as before, he was more than puzzled, for Gus said—
"Can give you half an hour, Jim."
"We won't be able to screw up enough for Merishall in that time, old man."
"Then you'll have to do the rest yourself, Jim. I'm not going to piffle about any more."
"Oh, don't be an ass, Gus! I've heard that footle before," said Cotton, with his heavy selfishness.
"Not quite, for this time I mean what I say."
"Oh no, you don't!"
"Oh yes, I do!"
"You wouldn't leave a fellow in the lurch like this, after all I—"
"I was left in the lurch last term, Jim, dear, and I'd rather you had a taste of it this go. Do you remember when old Corker was savaging me before all the school!"
The ghost of a smile flitted over Cotton's lips as he said—
"Rather!"
"The entire school, from the meanest fag up to Carr, was laughing at me, and, by Jove! Jim, your laugh was the loudest and longest."
"It was your tips I was thinking of, and Corker's frothing through your list of names," said Cotton, apologetically.
"All right," said Todd, acidly. "If you had left me alone I wouldn't have wanted those tips, and as for my names, I did not christen myself. If you want half an hour to shake out your work roughly I'll do it, but I can't do more, Jim, honour bright."
"I don't want that!" said Cotton, angrily, gathering up his books."
"Am deucedly glad you don't. And here, Jim, is the other half of the money. Since I'm not obliging you in any way, why should you me?"
"You're logical, Todd, at any rate," said Jim, with half a sneer.
"Didn't know you could spot logic when you heard it, Cotton," said Gus, with an equal amount of acid, and yet good-naturedly too.
"I suppose I clean you out?"
"You do. I've got a shilling to look at when you've taken up that heap."
"Is that your last word?"
"It is, but there's no need to quarrel—we're as we were before I began to take your hire, Jim."
"Not quite," said Cotton, who was hit by Gus's decision. "I'll leave you to your odd shilling and your forsaken tips."
He stumped off to his own room, and called Todd pet names till bedtime. What made Cotton so angry was that, deep down in his own mind, he knew that Gus was about to do a sensible and a manly thing, and just because he himself was going to suffer by it he had not moral courage enough to speak out openly his better mind.
But Gus, smiling at Cotton's bad temper, took out his books, drew up a scheme for study, bolted his door, and commenced to work. He slacked off when the bell went half an hour before lights out, and spent the time left him in boring a hole in his solitary shilling. He then slipped it on his watch-guard, prepared boldly to face a term of ten weeks without a stiver.