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Updated: June 10, 2025
"Your night-things will be brought to you," said Warde. He went out slowly. The boys heard the key turn in the massive lock. They were prisoners. Scaife walked up to Beaumont-Greene. "You told Warde about the bridge?" "Ye-es; I had to. Scaife, don't look at me like that. Lovell" his voice broke into a terrified scream "don't let him hit me. I couldn't help it I swear I " "You cur!" said Scaife.
The Caterpillar, an agreeable gossip, because he condemned nothing except dirt and low-breeding, told John that Beaumont-Greene was losing many shekels. And about the middle of October Caesar said to John "What do you think, old Jonathan? I've jolly nearly paid on the Demon. And you wanted me to chuck the thing. Nice sort of counsellor." "Beaumont-Greene must have lost a pot?"
"I knew that Hugo would make me swear not to play again," said Caesar to John, "and, naturally, I want to get some of the plunder back. I am getting it back. I raked thirty bob out of Beaumont-Greene last night." John said nothing. Presently it came to his ears that Caesar was getting more plunder back.
"Has anybody been rotting you?" Silence. John repeated the question. Still silence. Then John added "You know, Esmé, that I shall stick to you till I find out what's up; so you may as well save time by telling me at once." "It's Beaumont-Greene," faltered Fluff. "That fat beast! What's he done?" "He hasn't done much yet." "Tell everything!"
At least, so I'm told; I never go near him myself, and he's considerate enough to keep out of my way." Beaumont-Greene had not, it is true, the appetite for reckless breaking of the law which distinguished Lovell and his particular pals; but Lovell's good qualities cancelled to a certain extent what was vicious.
"I know his sort too well." Then, business happening to be slack, he re-read the letter before putting it away. Then he whistled softly and read it for the third time, frowning and biting his lips. The "Beaumont-Greene" in the signature and on the envelope did not look to be written by the same hand. "There's something fishy here," muttered the tradesman. "I must show this to Amelia."
My wife's step-father, as fine and hearty a specimen as you'd wish to see, sir, was taken only last month; at breakfast, too, as he was chipping his third egg." Beaumont-Greene said loftily, "Blow your wife's step-father and his third egg. Here's the letter." He flung down the letter and marched out of the shop. The tradesman looked at him, shaking his head. "He'll never come back," he muttered.
It was unthinkable that Warde knew more than this. Having reached this conclusion, Lovell turned over in his mind two or three specious lies that might meet the exigency. "Yes," he replied, with apparent frankness, "Beaumont-Greene did owe me money, and he has paid me." After a slight pause, Warde said quietly, "It is my duty, as your tutor, to ask you how Beaumont-Greene became indebted to you?"
Then, seeing an opportunity, he added, "You are leaving Harrow, Mr. Beaumont-Greene, but I trust, sir, you will not take your custom with you. We have always tried to please you." Beaumont-Greene, in his turn, saw opportunity. "Yes, yes," he answered. Then he produced the letter, envelope and all. "I have here a letter from my father, who is in Rome. I'll read it to you.
"You lent Beaumont-Greene ten pounds, Lovell?" "Yes, sir." Scaife came in, cool, handsomer than usual because of the sparkle in his eyes. "Shut the door, Scaife. Look at me, please. Beaumont-Greene owed you money?" Scaife glanced at Lovell, whose left eyelid quivered. "Kindly stand behind Scaife, Lovell. Thank you. Answer my question, Scaife." "Yes, sir; he owed me money."
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