As he said this, Bart looked in an expressive manner at Pat.
Pat looked away, and shook his head. Whether he suspected that Bart know all or not, he did not give him back any look of intelligence, or show any confusion. He simply looked away, and said,—
“Well, well,—aich wan must have his own opinion. Well know betther perhaps some day.” Bart smiled, and turned away. Soon he joined Bruce and Arthur.
“I’ve given Pat one or two hints already,” said he, “that I saw through the business, and I’ve just given him another. It’s a shame for him to go frightening the small boys that way. I was going to arrange it all to-morrow, or next day, so that they would look on it as a joke. But Pat is keeping up the gloomy, tragic character, and there’ll be more disturbance. Only he’d better look out. I’ve given him fair warning. There’s poor little Harry Thompson, with his face as pale as a sheet. It isn’t fair. It’ll have to be stopped.”
“Shall we stop it to-night?”
“Well, no; we had better wait till we see if it goes on, and whether Pat’s hand can be discerned in it. If we do find it so, I really don’t see any reason why he should be spared.”
From this it will be seen that Bart had already made his friends acquainted with the discovery which he had made in the garret, and that they had decided upon some general plan of action. They did not wish to put an end to the affair too prematurely or clumsily, but rather to terminate it in as brilliant a manner as possible.
As this day was positively the last of the holidays, the “B. O. W. C” determined to celebrate it by a modest supper in the Rawdons’ rooms. Solomon was accordingly called upon, and, as always, he showed himself equal to the occasion, Personally, he was all smiles and joyousness. His little black beads of eyes twinkled incessantly, his face actually shone, and his complexion was a rich, oily sepia. He made desperate efforts to preserve an air of profound solemnity; but occasionally a short, sharp snort of a laugh would burst forth, after which his face would at once regain its mask of gravity.
“Dar!” said he, as he put the last dish on. “Dar! blubbed breddern, dis heah’s all in hona ob dis great an shinin casium. You hab now finished your high an mighty ventures. Dar you hab bess ob ’Cad’my fare; none but de brave, you know, deserb dat fare. Off you go to lib on lasses an pork, an come back to vive you healt by de neficient car ob ole Solomon. Den off you clar agin, jes like mad, an git half starbed, so hab to come back agin to de tractions heah. An now, blubbed breddern, pitch in. Heah’s turkey, an chicken, an sass, an mince pies, an apple tarts, an pickled ’ysters, an red-hot coffee, an cream, an fifty oder tings too noomrous to mentium. Fur fudda ticulars, gemmen, see small bills. Yours, truly.”
With these words Solomon welcomed them to the feast that he had prepared. The boys seated themselves around the groaning board, and gave themselves up to the joy of the occasion. They fought their battles o’er again. They went over all the events of the holidays. Again they drifted through the dense fog, or wandered through the trackless forest; again they waded through deep waters, or dug deep in the solid ground.