Glyn Severn's Schooldays Part 40

"And then when to-morrow comes you'll say the same, and the same next day. There never was such a fellow for putting off things."

"Well, you needn't talk," cried Singh. "You haven't written to the Colonel to say you have got yours."

"No," said Glyn firmly; "but I am going to write this evening."

"No, you are not. Come on down town with me. I want to go to the old shop. Do come, there's a good chap! I hate going alone."

"Why?"

"Because if I go alone I always see so many things I want to buy, and then I go on buying, and my allowance doesn't last out till next time."

"Nonsense! What difference would it make if I came with you? You'd be just as bad," cried Glyn.

"Oh no, I shouldn't. When you are with me you always keep on interfering and stopping me; and then the money lasts out twice as well."

"Well, look here," said Glyn; "wait till I have written my letter, and I will make it a short one this time, and go with you afterwards."

"Oh, you are a disagreeable one! There won't be time then, and it will be too late for going out. There, you see if I ask you to go again."

Uttering these words in his snappiest way, Singh whisked himself round and stalked off.

"Can't help it," said Glyn to himself. "I will get it done, and then go and meet him. He'll soon cool down, and there will be time enough to go to the shop and get back before supper."

But, all the same, Glyn uttered a low sigh as he thrust his hands into his pockets, to jingle in one the four keys that made his bunch, and in the other several coins which formed the half of the Colonel's previous day's cheque.

The keys felt light in his right hand and the coins very heavy, and there was a something about him that seemed to suggest that they ought to be spent; but the boy turned his face rigorously towards the door of the theatre, when his attention was taken by Wrench's tom-cat. He was crouching upon the sill of one of the lower windows, which was raised a little way, and evidently intently watching something within.

"What's he after?" said Glyn to himself. "Some bird got inside, I suppose, and flying about among the rafters."

Walking quietly up to see if his surmise were true, the cat did not hear him till he was quite close, when it bounded off the sill and made for the Doctor's garden, to disappear among the shrubs.

"I thought he was after no good," said Glyn to himself; and, before making for the door, he peered in at the window in expectation of seeing a robin flitting about--a favourite habit these birds had of frequenting the long room and flying from beam to beam.

But there was no bird, Glyn seeing instead the back of little Burton, seated at his desk with the flap open resting against his head, as he seemed to be peering in; and just then the little fellow uttered a low sob.

"Poor little chap!" thought Glyn. "Why, that brute of a cat must have had one of his white mice, and he's crying about it."

Glyn went in at once and crept on tip-toe in the direction of his own desk, where he was about to write his letter; but he contrived to pa.s.s behind Burton unheard, and stopped short, to find that he was right, for the little fellow was bending low into his desk crying silently, save when a faint sob escaped him, while his outstretched hands were playing with three white mice. The door of their little cage was wide open, and they kept going in and out, to run fearlessly about their master's fingers, the cuffs of his jacket forming splendid hiding-places into which they darted from time to time, to disappear before coming out again to nestle in the boy's hands.

Glyn watched him for a few minutes, amused and pleased by the little scene and the affection that seemed to exist between the owner and the tame pets he kept within his desk.

"Why, the cat hasn't got one," he said; "he's only got three, and they are all there."

Just then there was a heavier sob than usual, and Glyn sympathetically laid his hand upon Burton's shoulder.

The little fellow gave a violent start, and the mice darted into their cage, as their owner turned guiltily round to gaze with wet and swollen eyes in his interrupter's face.

"Why, what's the matter, youngster?" said Glyn, bestriding the form and sitting down by Burton to take his hand.

"Oh, nothing, nothing," said Burton hurriedly, trying to withdraw his hand; but it was held too tightly, and he had to use the other to drag out his handkerchief from his jacket-pocket and wipe his eyes.

"You don't cry at nothing," said Glyn gently. "You are too plucky a little chap. I saw Wrench's cat watching you, and I was afraid he had got one of your mice."

"No, no; the poor little things are all right. But you oughtn't to have watched me, Severn."

"I didn't. I was coming to my desk to write a letter to my father, only I heard you sob."

"Oh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the boy.

"Come: out with it. You know you can trust me."

"Oh yes," said the little fellow earnestly. "I know that, Severn. You always are such a good chap."

"Well then, why don't you tell me what's the matter?"

"Because I was ashamed," said the other, nearly in a whisper.

"Ashamed! You! What of?"

"Because it hurts so, and I couldn't help crying," faltered the boy; "and I came in here so as no one should see me. Don't laugh at me, please!"

"Laugh at you because you are in trouble and something hurts you! You don't think I should be such a brute?"

"Oh, I didn't mean that, Severn," cried the boy earnestly, as he now clung to his sympathiser's hand. "I was afraid that you would laugh at me for being such a girl as to cry."

"But tell me," said Glyn.

"And I came in here to play with my mice, and it didn't seem to hurt me so much then, because it kept me from thinking."

"Come, what was it?" said Glyn. "You are keeping something back."

The little fellow tried to speak, but it was some minutes before he could command his voice. Then out came the story of the brutal kick he had received, and of how hard he had struggled to conceal the pain.

"A beast!" exclaimed Glyn. And then half-unconsciously, as if to himself, "I shall be obliged to give him another licking after all."

"Oh, do, please, Severn!" cried the little fellow joyously. "I'd give anything to be as big and strong as you, and able to stick up for myself; for, you see, I am such a little one."

"Oh, you will get big and strong some day," said Glyn. "Only wait."

"Yes, I'll wait," said the boy; "but it will be a long time first, and old Slegge is going away at the end of this half, so that I can't fight him myself. But I say, you will give him another licking, please?"

"Well, we'll see," said Glyn. "I dare say he'll make me before I have done."

"That's right," cried little Burton joyously; and he began to busy himself in putting his mice together, as he called it, and hooking the wire fastening before shutting up and closing the lid of his desk, while it was quite a different face that looked up into Glyn's, as the boy cried: "There, it doesn't hurt half as much now."

"If I were you I'd go and wash my face," said Glyn.

"What; is it dirty?"