HATCHING A PLOT, AND WHAT CAME OF IT
"Nothing could be better. Let Percival be the victim!"
Scarcely were the words out of Harry's lips than Viner come up to Baldry with the notice he was expecting. It was a hectograph copy, announcing that a meeting of the more important members of the Third Form would be held in the Forum at half-past six prompt to consider a matter of pressing importance.
Baldry thanked Viner. Viner smirked and retreated.
"Viner's in the know, that's certain," said Baldry, when he was out of earshot. "Viner's a crawler."
Harry had no great reason to like Viner. It was he who had gone behind him on the day that he had entered Garside, so that Newall might push him over his back. From that incident the quarrel had arisen between Stanley and Newall, and other troubles had followed in its train.
"You're right there; but now what's to be done?"
"Oh, that's easy enough. We've only got to rub out 'Third Form' and put in 'Fifth,' and then send it on to Percival; and there you are."
With the aid of a knife and some hectograph ink this alteration was soon made. The next question was how to get it to Percival without arousing suspicion. As they were considering this point Baldry caught sight of Hibbert crossing the ground.
"There's our messenger," he exclaimed. Then he shouted, "Hibbert, Hibbert!"
Hibbert looked round. Baldry beckoned him, and he came to where they were standing.
"I want you to give this note to Percival. If he asks you where it came from, tell him he will see inside. Then come away. Do you understand?"
"Yes," said Hibbert, looking suspiciously at the note.
"Well, run along. It won't bite you."
Hibbert went off reluctantly with the note. It seemed now as though he were as anxious as the rest to avoid Paul. At any rate, he kept out of his way, but he could not very well refuse Baldry's request.
He found Paul by himself, as usual, in the writing-room. He had commenced work in downright earnest on the prize essay.
"Hallo, Hibbert, is that you?" he asked, looking up as the boy entered. "What have you got there?"
Hibbert handed him the notice without a word, but did not beat a retreat according to the instructions he had received.
"Another meeting of the Fifth," Paul said, as much to himself as to Hibbert, when he had glanced at the note. "I wonder they trouble to send to me. It is too great an honour!"
No suspicion as to the genuineness of the note crossed his mind. It was quite usual for Sedgefield, who acted as hon. sec. for the Fifth, to send out his notices with a messenger from the junior forms.
"What's too great an honour, may I ask?" said Hibbert timidly.
Paul explained to him the contents of the notice.
"It's to call me over the coals again, I expect. Shall I go or shan't I?" he asked himself. Then, turning smilingly to the boy: "What would you do if you were in my place, Hibbert?"
"Stay away," said the boy promptly.
"And improve my reputation for courage—eh? Why would you stay away?"
Having so far exceeded his instructions, Hibbert thought he might as well go a little further.
"Because I don't believe that the Fifth had anything to do with that notice. It came from Baldry and Moncrief minor. I believe it's a trick."
Paul, beginning to smell a rat, examined the notice with closer attention, and soon detected the erasion where "Fifth" had been substituted for "Third Form."
"Thanks, Hibbert. I don't know why you should, but you're always doing me a good turn."
"Not half the good turns you've done me," said the boy earnestly, as he went out.
"What's in the wind?" Paul asked himself, when he was alone. "Bitter as Stanley is against me, he can't have set on his cousin to hoax and poke fun at me. Surely not?"
What was it, then? He could not guess; but it seemed to him that he must have sunk very low indeed in the eyes of the school when he had become a target for the junior forms.
"I must put my foot down on that nonsense," he said to himself, as he paced to and fro the room.
At first he thought of making straight for Baldry and Moncrief minor, and demanding what it meant; but on second thoughts he decided against that course, because it would mean mischief to Hibbert. His life at the school would be made more miserable than it was.
"The best thing after all will be to face it—to accept the invitation of Masters Moncrief and Baldry to the Forum to-night. I run the risk of being laughed at, I know, but I'm getting fairly used to that. And it's just possible I may be able to turn the tables."
Having come to this decision, Paul did the wisest thing possible under the circumstances—dismissed the matter from his mind, and went on with his work.
Now it so happened that a meeting of the Fifth had really been called for that evening in the Forum, and still stranger to relate, for the express purpose of discussing Paul. The information that he had been seen in the company of Wyndham, and had actually shaken hands with him, had quickly spread, and the meeting of the Fifth had been called for the express purpose of considering this further development in the feud between the Beetles and the Gargoyles. No notice of this meeting had, however, been sent to Paul.
So it was that about the time Paul was getting ready to go to the Forum, little suspecting the proposed meeting, Newall had already started for it, just as ignorant of the little plot that had been hatched by certain members of the Third. Leveson had had some lines which had kept him late in the class-room, and Newall had taken his place in getting the shed ready for the meeting. Thus it happened he was in advance of the rest.
It was quite dark as Newall made his way to the shed. Harry Moncrief was hiding at the side, with his whistle between his teeth. The figure coming towards the shed in the darkness he took to be the figure of Paul.
"He's up to time," he chuckled to himself. "He's fallen into the trap beautifully."
Newall reached the door of the shed, opened it, and passed in. Simultaneously Harry blew the whistle. At the signal, Plunger pulled the string which communicated with the basket immediately over the doorway, sending its contents showering down on the head of Newall.
Newall gasped and staggered in the darkness, striking out wildly with his arms. He had a confused idea that some enormous bird of prey had suddenly swooped down from the roof, and was flapping its wings over his head.
"Ooshter—ooshter! Get out of it!" he gasped, as he reeled about and struck out wildly at his imaginary foe.
Meantime Plunger had slid down quickly from the tree, and, accompanied by Viner and Bember, who had been awaiting the signal in the rear, rushed round to the front. The three held on to the door, so as to keep their victim floundering about in the darkness till they saw fit to release him.
"Splendid; couldn't be better," chuckled Plunger. "My, isn't old Baldy carrying on?"
His companions could not answer. They were doing their best to smother their laughter.
"My, he's carrying on awful!" went on Plunger. "Breaking up the happy home. Didn't think Baldy had so much spring in him. Seems to be all over the shop. Do you hear him, Moncrief? Where is Moncrief?"
Moncrief had made himself scarce. He had retreated to a safe distance, where Baldry was awaiting him. By the time he reached him, he, too, was exploding with laughter.
"Well, what's happened?" asked Baldry.
"Oh, don't ask me. It's too funny for words."
"Percival's inside?"
"Percival's inside, ramping about like mad, and Plunger, Viner, and Bember are holding the door outside like grim death, and laughing like hyenas over 'old Baldy.' Good, isn't it?"
On that Baldry was seized with a fit of laughter too.
"Good? The best joke we've had at Garside for a long time," answered Baldry, between gasps. "My, what will happen when they find out their mistake? What will they say when they see Percival stagger out instead of 'old Baldy?'"
"Plunger will stagger the most of the two, I reckon," laughed Harry.
"I just reckon he will."
"And I reckon also that he'd better keep out of the reach of Percival."
"Percival!" echoed Baldry contemptuously. "Percival may ramp a good deal, but he's not likely to do much, I'm thinking, after his exhibition at the sand-pits. Percival is——"
"I beg pardon, but did I hear some one mention my name?" came a quiet voice in the rear of Baldry.
Both boys turned promptly round at the voice. To their amazement Percival was standing before them.
"Per—Percival!" exclaimed Harry.
"Per—Percival!" echoed Baldry.
"I happened to be strolling this way, and thought I heard my name; but perhaps I was mistaken."
The boys could not speak. They could only stare with open mouths at Percival. It was a shadowy figure that stood before them in the darkness. Was it indeed Percival, or was it his ghost?
"Y—y—yes; we—we—were speaking about you," stammered Baldry, at length. "We—were—just wondering—how you were getting on."
"It's very kind of you to think of me," said Paul, with a quiet smile.
Paul, quite ignorant of what had transpired in the shed, thought for the moment whether he had better tackle Baldry and Moncrief minor then and there as to their motive in desiring him to go to the shed, but on second thoughts he decided to find out for himself; so he passed on.
"Pinch me—punch me—kick me", exclaimed Harry. "Am I awake or am I dreaming, Baldry?"
"It was Percival right enough."
"Then who—who's—in—the shed?" gasped Harry, a cold perspiration coming to his brow.
"What an idiotic question to ask me," retorted Baldry indignantly. "You ought to know best. Are you sure there's anybody in the shed at all?"
"I'm sure of that. And—and—I could have sworn it was Percival."
"You've made a nice mess of it."
"Well, if I have made a mess of it, I've kept you out of it," retorted Harry, beginning to feel sore at the tone taken by Baldry. "After all, Plunger and the others will be taken in a good deal more than we've been, remember. He still thinks it's you he's got a prisoner."
"Ah, yes, so he does," exclaimed Baldry, breaking into laughter again; "I'd forgotten that. When that door opens it'll be one of the best little surprise packets Plunger's ever had in his life. Hallo, here comes a lot of the Fifth fellows, and they seem making for the shed, too!"
The shadowy figures of Arbery, Parfitt, Hasluck, and a couple of others passed within a short distance of where the two boys were standing. They were conversing eagerly together.
There was silence between them for a moment; then an unearthly yell rose on the air.
"Goodness! What was that? Enough to lift your hair off, wasn't it, Moncrief?"
Harry did not answer. He was trying to pierce the darkness to see what was happening in the direction of the shed.