“Jolly hard luck,” said Arthur to his senior. “I’d got plenty more to come out.”
“You’ve done quite enough for one evening,” said Felgate, grinning, “the rest will keep.”
Chapter Twelve.
Throwing down the Gauntlet.
Arthur’s great hit at the Central Criminal Court was the topic in the junior circles at Railsford’s for some days. It was hardly to be expected that Sir Digby Oakshott would share in the general admiration which fell to his friend’s lot. That young baronet had a painful sense of having come off second best at the trial, and the relations between the friends became considerably strained in consequence. What made it harder for Dig was that Arthur had suddenly gained quite a prestige among the lower boys of the house, who, without being too curious, arrived at the conclusion that he knew a thing or two about Railsford in connection with the row about Bickers, and was keeping it dark.
Strangely enough, from the same cause, Railsford himself leapt into sudden popularity with his juniors. For if he, argued they, was the man who paid out Bickers for them, then, although it put them to a little inconvenience, they were resolved as one man to back their hero up, and cover his retreat to the best of their ability. The master himself was considerably surprised at the sudden outburst of affection towards himself. He hoped it meant that his influence was beginning to tell home on the minds of his youthful charges; and he wrote cheerfully to Daisy about it, and said he had scarcely hoped in so short a time to have made so many friends among his boys.
“Tell you what,” said Arthur one evening, after discussing the virtues of his future kinsman with some of the Shell, “it wouldn’t be a bad dodge to get up a testimonial for Marky. I know a stunning dodge for raising the wind.”
“Good idea,” said Tilbury, “I’m game.”