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However, it was one of old Mr Cripps's heart-moving phrases, and no one was rude enough to ask questions. Stephen did not, on the present occasion, feel moved to respond to the old man's lament, and Cripps junior, with more adroitness than filial affection, hustled the old gentleman out of the door. "Never mind him," said he to Stephen.
Stephen promptly accepted the challenge, and forgetting in his excitement all about school rules or Loman's orders accompanied Cripps to the bagatelle-room, with its sanded floor, smelling of stale tobacco and beer-dregs. His first attempt, greatly to Mr Cripps's glee, was unsuccessful. "I knew you couldn't," exclaimed that worthy. "I know I can do it," said Stephen, excitedly. "Let's try again."
"Why!" exclaimed that worthy, giving over his irascible expletives, and adopting an air of unfeigned pleasure, "why, if it ain't young Master Greenhorn. Ha, ha! How do, my young bantam? Pretty bobbish, eh?" Stephen did not know exactly what was meant by "bobbish," but replied that he was quite well, and sorry he had trodden on Mr Cripps's toes.
Never mind, I and my pals we wanted a dander, so we thought we'd look you up, eh? You know Tommy Granger here? I heard him saying as we came along he wondered what you'd stand to drink after it all." All Loman could do was to stand still as soon as this talk began, and trust his schoolfellows would walk on, and so miss all Mr Cripps's disgusting familiarities.
Ever since he had gathered from Stephen Mr Cripps's wrath on receiving the returned rod, he had been haunted by a dread lest the landlord of the Cockchafer should march up to Saint Dominic's, and possibly make an exposure of the unhappy business before the Doctor and the whole school.
"Good-day, sir," said Cripps, holding out his hand. Loman looked at the hand and then at Mr Cripps's face. There was the same ugly leer about the latter, into which a spark of anger was infused as the boy still held back from the proffered hand. With an inward groan Loman gave the hand a spiritless grasp, and then hurried back miserable and conscience-stricken to Saint Dominic's.
"They'll find out some day, most likely," growled Oliver; "I'm not going to bother any more about it. I say, Wray, do you know anything of Cripps's son?" "Yes. Don't you know he keeps a dirty public-house in Maltby? a regular cad, they say. The fishing-fellows have seen him up at the Weir now and then."
"What do you propose to do, Mr. Ogilvie?" said the Colonel. "I shall do my part with my boy as a father. What will you do with him and the other bully, who I find was Cripps." "I shall see Cripps's father first. I think it might be well if we both saw him before deciding on the form of discipline. We have to think not only of justice but of the effect on their characters."
And why on earth did he bring those other cads with him, all of whom Loman recognised as pot-house celebrities of his own acquaintance? No wonder if the boy lost his head and became flurried! He felt miserable every time the ball flew over to Cripps's side of the ground.
Mr Cripps's mouth worked up into a still more ugly smile. "I was below in the garden, you know, and could not make out what you were up to. You nearly had my eye out with that hook. I say, what a smash you gave it when it caught in the ivy. Was it broken right off, or only cracked, eh? Cripps will mend it for you, won't you, Cripps?" Neither Mr Cripps nor Loman spoke a word.
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