“The rotten thing about it is,” went on William, “that by the time we’re in Parliament makin’ the laws we’ll be makin’ it for other people an’ too late to do us any good.”
“An’ it seems hardly worth botherin’ to get into Parliament jus’ to do things for other people,” said Ginger the egoist.
They were very near the school now and instinctively had slowed down to a stop. The sun was shining more brightly than ever. The whole countryside looked more inviting than ever. There was a short silence. They gazed from the school building (grim and dark and uninviting) to the sunny hills and woods and fields that surrounded it. At last William spoke.
“Seems ridic’lous to go in,” he said slowly.
And Ginger said still with his air of unctuous virtue, “Seems sort of wrong to go when we reely don’t believe that we oughter go. They’re always tellin’ us not to do things our conscience tells us not to do. Well, my conscience tells me not to go to school this afternoon. My conscience tells me that it’s my juty to go out into the fresh air gettin’ healthy. My conscience——”
Douglas interrupted gloomily: “’S’ all very well talkin’ like that. You know what’ll happen to us to-morrow morning.”
The soaring spirits of the Outlaws dropped abruptly at this reminder. The general feeling was that it was rather tactless of Douglas to have introduced the subject. It was difficult after that to restore the attitude of reckless daring which had existed a few minutes before. It was William of course who restored it, swinging well to the other extreme in order to repair the balance.
“Well, we won’t go to-morrow mornin’ either,” he said. “I’m jolly well sick of wastin’ my time in a stuffy old school when I might be outside gettin’ fresh air. Let’s be Outlaws. Let’s be real Outlaws. Let’s go right away somewhere to a wood where no one’ll find us an’ live on blackberries an’ roots an’ things an’ if they come out to fetch us we’ll climb trees an’ hide or run away or shoot at ’em with bows and arrows. Let’s go’n’ live all the rest of our lives as Outlaws.”
And so infectious was William’s spirit, so hypnotic was William’s glorious optimism that the Outlaws cheered jubilantly and said, “Yes, let’s.... Hurrah!”
“And never go to school no more,” said Douglas rapturously.