We agreed with the mass of our schoolfellows that the Doctor’s arbitrary proclamation was an act of unmitigated tyranny and a “jolly shame;” but, beyond that, Slodgers could get nothing out of us, although we listened cordially to all the others had to say, and regulated our procedure accordingly.
“I vote,” said Batson, one of the big boys like Tom and I were now, “that we buy our fireworks on Saturday, in spite of what Old Growler has declared, and if he does not allow us to let them off in the evening, why we’ll have ‘a grand pyrotechnic display,’ as the newspapers say, at night in the dormitories.”
“Hear, hear!” shouted all the fellows in rapturous enthusiasm at such a bold idea; and even Tom and I wondered whether this plan would not be better than ours. But it was only for a moment. Reflection told us that the Doctor would certainly hear of our doings in time, through Slodgers, to nip the brilliant design in the bud ere it could be matured; so, while the majority of the boys devoted all their spare cash on the Saturday afternoon, when some of us were allowed to go into the town, in the purchase of squibs and crackers, and Roman candles, we declined all share in the enterprise on the plea of having no money—an excuse readily recognised, as the finances of most of the pupils were known to be not in a flourishing condition.
While Batson and his confrères took advantage of the half-holiday to go out to buy these fireworks, Tom and I remained indoors, he on the plea of indisposition and I for the ostensible purpose of writing out an imposition; but we both utilised the time thus afforded us by artfully removing the store of combustibles we had already secreted in our lockers, bringing them down-stairs, and placing them for safety and concealment in the cellar below, where our boxes were kept.
It was a timely precaution.
Slodgers had evidently played the sneak as usual, although keeping up the semblance all the while of being one of the prime movers in the pyrotechnic display suggested by Batson. Indeed, he went so far as to buy and bring home a shilling’s-worth of detonating powder to aid the contemplated feu de joie; but, no sooner had the boys got in and gone up-stairs to arrange their clothes for Sunday, as was our custom before tea-time every Saturday afternoon, than Dr Hellyer, accompanied by Smiley and the Cobbler, and the old woman, who had the keenest eye of the lot for the detection of contraband stores, came round to the dormitories on an exploring and searching expedition. There was a grand exposé of the conspiracy, of course, at once; for, the contents of all the lockers were turned out and the newly-purchased fireworks confiscated to the last cracker!
“Ah—you can’t deceive me!” exclaimed the Doctor, as he departed triumphantly, his arms and those of his assistants loaded with the spoils of their raid, “I told you I would not have any fireworks in my school this year, and shall keep my word, as you see! You have only to thank yourselves—ah—for wasting your money! But, for disobeying my orders the boys will all stop in next week on both half-holidays;” and, so concluding his parting address, with a triumphant grin on his huge round face, he went out, leaving the baffled conspirators in agonies of rage, swearing vengeance against the unknown spy who had betrayed their preparations.
Tom and I were jubilant, however. Nothing could have worked better for the end we had in view; as, after this failure of Batson, the surprise we intended for the Doctor would be all the more unexpected and correspondingly successful.
It was a sad night, though, for the other fellows.
When Sunday morning came, the boys got up grumbling, moody, defiant, and almost inclined to weep over their frustrated efforts; while Tom and I were so jolly that we could have sung aloud.