“Some of you may open your eyes when I mention it, but I know you won’t funk it. We mean to get hold of all the School prizes at Grandcourt this term, if we can. (Sensation.) Yes, you may gape, but it’s a fact! Of course, I can’t beat Smedley for the gold medal. (Yes, have a try!) Rather! I mean to try; and Smedley will have to put on steam. (Loud cheers.) Then Stafford is going to cut out Branscombe—(Boo-hoo!)—for the Melton Scholarship, and Barnworth will get the vacant Cavendish Scholarship, and Wake and Ranger and Sherriff and Wignet are going to walk off with all the Fifth-form prizes; and Herapath will pull off the Swift Exhibition, and Sir Digby Oakshott, Baronet.—(tremendous cheers)—will win the Shell History medal.”
“I say!” said the baronet, mopping his face vehemently; “that’s the first I’ve heard about that!”
“Yes, and our Babies are going to show the way, too!” continued the captain; “and on prize-day we’ll crowd up and cheer them when they toddle up to take their prizes. (Laughter and cheers.) That’s all I want to say. (Laughter and applause.) Some of you will say I’m cracked. (No!) I’m not! Railsford’s is going in and going to win, and if you all back up—(So we will I)—we shall do it easily. (Cheers.) Don’t let us brag too much. The school will find out what we are up to soon enough without our blowing trumpets. Oh, there’s one thing more,” continued the captain—“positively the last—(laughter)—about this row we’re all in. It was a caddish thing, whoever did it, to maul a man about in the dark when he couldn’t defend himself—(cheers)—and a low thing, whoever did it, to tell a lie about it. (Cheers.) But my advice is, let the beggar alone. He’s an enemy to our house, but we aren’t going to make ourselves miserable on his account. Let him alone. Don’t go poking and sniffing about to try to smell him out. (Arthur blushed violently here.) Think of something better. In spite of him we’re going to make Railsford’s the cock house at Grandcourt! That will be the best way to pay him out, and it will take us all our time to do it, without dirtying our fingers over him.”
Ainger concluded amidst a burst of cheers which quite took him aback, and the meeting dispersed enthusiastically to talk over the wonderful programme, and take the first steps towards carrying it out.
The captain’s words came upon most of the fellows as a surprise that there could be any other way out of their present misfortunes than by submitting to them tamely and giving up the glory of their house as a bad job. The audacious proposal first took their breath away, and then took possession of them. They would have their revenge; and here was a way open to them. It scarcely occurred to any but the experienced seniors that there would be any difficulty in making Ainger’s bold predictions true. Arthur for instance, having heard it publicly announced that he was about to win the Swift Exhibition, thought and behaved as if the prize were already in his hands.
“Twenty pounds a-year for three years,” said he complacently, to his ally. “Not a bad pot. Tell you what, Dig, well get a tandem tricycle, my boy, with the first year’s money. Hope they’ll pay it in advance, don’t you? then we can get it after break-up, and have some ripping spins in the summer holidays. Better fun than fooling about in Switzerland with Marky and Daisy. We’ll either get that, or I know a jolly little boat Punter has for sale at Teddington, with a towing-line and double sculls, and a locker under the stern seat for grub. He wanted £22 for it, but I expect he’ll come down the £2 for ready money. Perhaps it would be better to buy it this summer, and get the tricycle with next year’s money. I’ve a good mind to write to Punter to-night.”
“Hadn’t you better get the Exhibition first?” suggested the baronet.
“Of course I mean to get it,” said Arthur, rather nettled; “I fancy Ainger’s as good a judge of what a chap can do in that line as you are.”
“I don’t know,” replied Dig; “he said I was going to get the History Medal, but I’m not so sure if I shall.”
“Well, I did think he was letting out a bit when he said that,” replied Arthur, with a chuckle. “Never mind, we’ll go halves in the Exhibition.”