King of Ranleigh: A School Story

by F. S. Brereton

It was a saint's day, and Ranleigh made holiday once Chapel was ended. Outside in the playing-fields the shouts and laughter of the boys could be heard distinctly from the Sixth Form room. Occasionally there was a clatter in the tiled corridors over which the feet of so many Ranleighans had passed in the years gone by. Otherwise there was peace and quietness in the school and the time was propitious for discussion. And in the Upper Sixth Form room voices subdued and smooth exchanged the views of various of the prefects. Trendall was there, watching Clive and Susanne with a friendly smile of approval. How different from the glances which he had once cast at them! Bert, cool and dreaming as of yore, apt to indulge on every opportunity in satire, sat upon the corner of the table staring thoughtfully into the fire. Masters stood propped in one corner, nibbling the end of a pencil and glancing first at one of his friends and then at another. By common consent Clive had been voted to the chair.

"We've got to do something, and at once," he said, commencing the proceedings as soon as he had occupied the only chair in the room. "It is up to us to act."

"Hear, hear!" from Masters. He stopped nibbling for a moment. "Hear, hear!" he repeated, and then went rather pink seeing the eyes of all on him.

"And at once," asserted Clive again.

"Without delay, certainly," agreed Bert crisply.

"That is, once we've come to a decision what shall be done. No use acting without a plan," said the wise Susanne, an opinion which Trendall applauded.

"Then, it being agreed that something must be done, and at once, we come to the crux of the situation."

Clive looked at each in turn invitingly. "We want ideas," he went on. "We've reached a crisis here. Has any fellow any plan to put before us?"

There was silence. Masters took to nibbling his pencil violently. It was obvious that he was very much disturbed in his mind. Susanne kicked the worn floor boards impatiently, while Trendall and Bert seemed to have all their attention centred on the fire. But no one accepted Clive's invitation to speak. To tell the truth, no one had so much as an idea. The situation with which Ranleigh was face to face was unique.

"I'll recapitulate events," said Clive, for he was wont in these days to use some terribly long words. The slang so common to his speech in bygone days was now almost forgotten. Indeed, the manners and the ideas of the Old Firm had changed wonderfully and very much for the better.