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Updated: June 8, 2025
"It was one of Thurston's lot who did it," repeated Diggory decisively; "neither Oaks nor Allingford would ever dream of doing such a mad thing." "I don't see exactly how you can prove it," said Jack Vance thoughtfully; "that one word 'To-night' might mean anything."
Half an hour later there was a sharp rap at the door, and Allingford, Oaks, and Acton entered the room. "Well," said Thurston, looking up with a frown from the book he was reading, "what d'you want now? I don't remember asking you fellows to come and see me. A chap can't call his study his own nowadays." "No," answered Acton grimly.
"Don't go too far, or he'll put a stop to our next merry meeting. I know Allingford, and he's rather a hard wall to run your head against." "That confounded old Browse has gone and sneaked!" cried the other, with a flush of passion on his face. "Let's wait till Ally's gone, and then make a raid on the old stew-pot."
"You asked me whether I'd heard anything more about that rhyme I wrote," answered the other, rousing himself, and speaking with a thrill of anger in his voice. "I say no, but I've seen a jolly lot." "How d'you mean?" "Why, there's not a fellow in the Sixth but gives me the cold shoulder. Allingford sets the example, and there's hardly one of them will give me a civil word.
"The following," continued Allingford, referring to the paper which he held in his hand, "have been chosen to act as the Sports Committee: Myself chairman, Oaks, Acton, Rowland, Parkes, Redfern, and Hoyle. "The two former librarians, Clarkson and Lang, have been re-elected.
Diggory launched out into a brief description of their many adventures; Oaks laughed heartily. "Well," he said, pulling out his watch, "you've just got back in time; half a minute more, and you'd have been outside, my boys." The prefect locked the door, and continuing his conversation with Allingford, started off down the passage.
John Acton, a tall, wiry fellow, who looked as though his whole body was as hard and tough as whip-cord, was standing leaning on the end of the mantelpiece talking to another of the seniors, who sat sprawling in a folding-chair on the other side of the fire; while seated at the table, turning over the leaves of what appeared to be a big manuscript book, was no less a personage than Allingford, the school captain.
I must own that I think Allingford made a great deal of unnecessary fuss over that Black Swan business, and acted very shabbily in making you send in your resignation just before the holidays.
"They're gone," said Acton. "What shall we do?" "We'll find one of them, at all events," replied his companion; and returning once more to the neighbourhood of the studies, he shouted, "Thurston!" There was a faint "Hullo!" and a moment later a door opened half-way down the passage. "Well, what d'you want?" Allingford walked quickly forward. "Look here," he demanded sternly, "where have you been?
"Hullo, you young beggars! what are you up to?" The voice was that of Allingford, who, attracted by cries of "Go it!" "Give him another!" "Bravo, Vance!" and other warlike shouts, had hurried round to the rear of the pavilion to find out what was happening. "Hullo!" he continued, stepping forward and grasping Grundy by the shoulder; "what's up? what's the joke?"
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