Paul answered that he thought Digby’s philosophy was very good in theory; but that practically, he would rather dispense both with bullies and blackguards, as he was constantly a sufferer from them.
At length, all arrangements being made, Digby’s box of treasures was opened, and found to contain even more good things than even he or any of his friends had anticipated. Everybody at Bloxholme who could think of what boys liked best, had made some suggestion which had been adopted, and the wonder was, that so much had been stowed away in so small a space. Every crevice had been filled with little and big pots of jam, and marmalade, and honey, a tongue, a Dutch cheese, chocolate-paste, anchovies, a pie without gravy, and a fine plum-cake were only some of the eatables,—then there was a hammer and nails, and gimlets, and screws, and a hasp-knife, and a writing-case, and a number of other useful things; enough, as Paul declared, to enable him to set up house by himself, if he wished.
They had only time to put back about two-thirds of the things, which were all they could get into the box, the rest having to be distributed between Newland’s and Farnham’s boxes, before the bell rang for tea.
One of the party, William Ranger, Digby heard him called, was easily persuaded to stay away from tea, to watch that no burglary was attempted during their absence.
Tea was quickly over; the bottles were filled, and the bread-and-butter stowed away in their pockets, and then, more hungry than ever, they hurried back to the play-room.
Ranger told them that he had placed himself on a bench, pretending to be fast asleep, and that scarcely had they gone, than Spiller glided into the room, and went up to the well-filled box. He had begun to work away at the lock, when up he had jumped and sung out—
“You had better not.”
Without making any answer to this, Spiller had sneaked away again. In another minute, who should come in but the bully Scarborough, with a hammer in his hand. He walked straight up to the box, and finding that it was locked, was about to strike it with all his might, when Ranger, though trembling for the consequences to his bones, again cried—
“You had better not.”
The words acted like magic, even on the notorious bully, and he betook himself out of the room as fast as he could, having also, probably, lost his share of the provisions in the tea-room.