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He had seen them arrive from the confectioner's that morning, and, Limpet as he was, Brown smiled inwardly as he meditated thereon. This was a second ground for excitement. And a third, equal to either of the other two, was that Parson and Telson were invited and were coming! He had tried one or two other fellows first. He had sounded Coates on the subject, but he unfortunately was engaged.
"That's where we get the pull of you; besides, I'm a lighter weight than Riddell, though he's boiled down a good bit since he went into training." "Good deal depends on who gets the inside berth," said Telson, delightfully oblivious of the bewildered Mrs Paddy's presence. "It's a jolly long swing round Willow Point for the outsiders half a length at least."
The natural thing, of course, on not finding him at home in his own quarters, was to look for him in Telson's. But he was not there, nor, strange to say, was Telson himself. And, what was still more odd, when search came to be made, Bosher, another fag of Parrett's house, was missing, and so was Lawkins, and Pringle, and King, and Wakefield, and one or two others of the same glorious company.
"Howling young Radical cad!" exclaimed Telson, who, carried away by the excitement of the hour, had forgotten all Mr Parrett's prohibitions, and had come to visit his old allies; "you ought to be ashamed of yourself." "Indeed, I'm Yellow," pleaded the unhappy Bosher. "They forced me to be Cheeseman at the meeting, but it wasn't my fault." "Don't tell crams," cried the others.
For how could she reveal herself now? "I I think I met him once," she said. "Where? at his home, was it?" asked Telson, who seemed to be urged by a most fiendish curiosity on the subject. "No," faltered the lady; "it was er I think it was at Dr Patrick's." "Very likely," said Telson. "He was up there to tea, I know, just before he was made captain.
"Yes; but it's just as bad round the corner at the finish the other way." "Ah! talking about the race, I see," said the doctor, returning to the group at this point. "So, Telson, Riddell's to steer your boat after all." "Yes, sir," said Telson; "it's settled now." "So that the schoolhouse boat is still the captain's boat, eh? Ah! Parson, though, I suppose, wants the Parrett's boat to win."
"The boys who were late," said Riddell, stammering. "Let me see." Here he took up the paper and began to read it over: "`Co. Pri. Telson. You were late, weren't you? Why were you late?" A question like this was decidedly a novelty; Wyndham's formula had invariably been, "Telson, hold out your hand," and then if Telson had anything to remark he was at liberty to do so.
The only awkward thing about it was that neither side knew exactly when to stop. Telson claimed the victory after every round, and King respectfully disputed the statement. Telson thereupon taunted his adversary with "funking it," and went at him again, very showy in action, but decidedly feeble in execution.
As it was neither an exciting combat nor a profitable one, the Parrett's monitor considered it a good case for interfering, as well as for calling in the authority of the popular captain. "King and Telson," he said, stepping between the combatants, "stop it, and come to Bloomfield's study after chapel. You know fighting in the `Big' is against rules."
"By the way," said Riddell, as they were going, "do either of you know to whom this book belongs? I found it in the playground yesterday." A merry laugh greeted the appearance of Bosher's diary, which the pair recognised as a very old friend. "It's old Bosher's diary," said Telson. "He's always dropping it about. I believe he does it on purpose. I say, isn't it frightful bosh?"
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