Glyn Severn's Schooldays Part 34

"I haven't played any games," said Glyn quietly.

"Now, no nonsense," cried Singh pettishly. "You have got my keys."

"Oh yes, I have got them," cried Glyn. "Here they are. Catch!"

The bunch went flying through the air, and with one quick snap of the hand Singh caught them and laid them down sharply on the dressing-table with a bang.

"I don't like it," he said angrily, for he was very tired. "You shouldn't take my keys."

"Yes, I should," said Glyn quietly.

"I tell you you shouldn't."

"Then you oughtn't to leave them stuck in your box, as if to invite all the servants to come and have a rummage, when you go out to a cricket-match."

"I say, I didn't do that, did I? I had them in my pocket just before I started."

"If you did, how could I have them in mine when you came back?"

"Why, I--I am certain--" began Singh; and then, "Oh!"

"`Oh,' indeed!" cried Glyn. "But how did it happen?"

"I was just getting in the wagonette, when I thought it would be good fun to have one of those red Indian silk handkerchiefs to tie to a stump and use as a flag."

"Yes; as you did."

"Well, there were six of them in my big box, and I ran up to get one."

"And then left the keys in the box?"

"Well, I suppose I did, in the hurry and confusion. Oh, Glynny, what a beast I am! I wish I hadn't such a brute of a temper. It makes me flare up all at once and say such nasty things; and you are always as cool as a gourd, and get the best of me."

"Well, you should be more careful," said Glyn. "I wish, too, that you hadn't such a temper. You ought to master it."

"I can't," said the lad sadly. "It always masters me. It's through being born in such a hot climate, I suppose. Oh, I do hate to have to be always begging your pardon."

"Then I suppose that's why you don't do it now?"

"Oh, you know, old chap! I do beg it heartily. You don't want me to go down on my knees like a coolie?"

"Not I; only, somehow or other, I seem to be always ruffling up your coat about something."

"Well, go on; I do deserve it," cried Singh. "I shall be such a good boy some day, thanks to Professor Severn. No, no; don't lecture me any more."

"Not going to, only to say one word or two that the dad used to say to me when I had been flying out with some of the servants over yonder."

"Let's have it then, and done with it," said Singh with a sigh.

"`A man who cannot govern himself,'" said Glyn slowly, "`is not fit to govern other people.'"

"Oh, but I shall be a splendid governor by the time you have finished me off; and you will always be there to put me straight when I am going crooked; and I say, don't go and spoil a jolly day by a fuss over such a little matter as a bunch of keys."

"No, I won't," said Glyn. "But, you know, somebody might--"

"Bother somebody! And if he, she, or it had, I should have said that it was all your fault."

"My fault? Why?"

"Because you wouldn't take charge of you know what."

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

THE DOCTOR'S OPINIONS ON THE BELT.

Time glided on, with the friendly feeling between Morris and the boys increasing, for the mathematical master, with all his weakness and vanity, felt at heart somewhat touched by the respect and deference paid to him by Glyn.

"A thorough gentleman at heart," he said to himself. "Why, some boys would have gloried in the feeling that they had got me under their thumbs. And that Singh--what a splendid man he'll make!"

He was one of the first to display his genuine delight when the Strongley School lads came over to play a return match at Plymborough to avenge the beating, coming strengthened in their eleven by four old pupils of their school, two of them almost men.

But it was in vain, for Glyn's bowling played havoc with their wickets, and Singh stumped out all four of them in their two innings, three in the first and one in the second; while, when the Plymborough lads went to the wickets, Slegge playing his slogging game as soon as he got well in, and then after Burney had had a very fair innings, Slegge was joined by Glyn, and these two, amidst burst after burst of cheers, kept piling up the score till, with one unlucky cut, Slegge sent the ball up like a rocket, to travel far away, and then be cleverly caught out by long-field-off.

After that the game went on, with Glyn seeming to do what he liked with the enemy's bowling, all the rest of his eleven playing a good steady game, Singh getting the most modest score; for, much as he shone as a wicket-keeper, he was not specially handy with his bat. Still, he added his modic.u.m, till all had fallen. And Singh, who was standing with Morris, enthusiastically joined the master in the applause and cheers that welcomed Glyn as he carried out his bat.

"Splendid!" cried Morris. "Grand! The finest bit of batting I have seen in schoolboy life. I am proud of you, my lad. Oh, if you would only s.h.i.+ne like this over your algebra!"

It was all genuine.

So the result was that the Strongley boys went back after a second bad beating, in spite of the four old members of their eleven, one of whom had actually begun to shave.

And then the school-life went on, with its ups and downs, pleasures and pains, as school-life will, till one morning--the morning following a pillow-chat in bed between the two boys who play the princ.i.p.al parts in this story, when their discourse had been about the length of time that had elapsed since the Colonel had visited Plymborough--Wrench came to the cla.s.s-room to announce that the Doctor desired the presence of Mr Severn and Mr Singh.

There was a whispered word or two as the pair rose from their seats wondering what it meant, and there were plenty of malicious grins, Slegge's containing the most venom, as he whispered to Burney loud enough for Singh to hear, "Cane!" while Burney's merry little face grew distorted as he caught Glyn's glance, and then began to rub his knuckles in his eyes, as if suggesting what his big friend would be doing when he came back from seeing the Doctor.

"I say, is anything the matter?" said Singh nervously.

"No. Nonsense!" replied Glyn. "I am sure we have both been doing our best."

This was as they got outside the cla.s.s-room and were following Wrench into the hall.

"Hurrah! I know!" whispered Glyn. "I believe it's the dad come down at last."

"Oh!" cried Singh joyously. "Then he'll want us to come and dine with him. How jolly!"

For it was long indeed since the Colonel had been down; and though he wrote pretty regularly, first to one and then to the other, excusing himself on the ground that he had been very busy of late over Indian business connected with the late Maharajah's affairs, letters did not mean a day's holiday ending with a pleasant dinner and a long talk about old days in Dour.