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Updated: June 22, 2025
Loman's only reply was a book shied at his fag's head quite explicit enough for all practical purposes. So Stephen hauled down his colours and prepared to start. "Look sharp back," said Loman, "and don't let any one see you going out. Look here, you can get yourself some brandy-balls with this."
He went off in a highly injured frame of mind to Loman's study. Master Paul's directions might have been more explicit "The eighth door on the right; next to the one with the kicks."
His parents, only too glad to see their boy taking more regular exercise, never suspected or inquired as to the direction of his frequent solitary rides. To them he seemed the same quiet, clever boy they fondly believed him. Little guessed they of the troubles that filled his breast or the toils that were daily enwrapping him! Thus Loman's holidays came to an end.
A few customers came into the bar and were served by the sulky potboy, but there was no sign of Cripps. "Go and tell your master I'm here still, and want to see him particularly," said Loman, presently, to the boy. The boy looked up and scowled and rubbed his ear, but somehow that timely blow of Loman's had wrought wonders with his spirit, for he quietly went off and did as he was bid.
Take one more, Master Loman's `A Funny Story. We are sorry to find Master Loman tells stories. Boys shouldn't tell stories; it's not right. But Master Loman unfortunately does tell stories, and this is one. He calls it `A Funny Story. That is a story to begin with, for it is not funny.
"All right," said Cripps; "that's quite enough for me;" and, to Loman's astonishment and terror, he walked away without another word, and left the unhappy boy to stay or go as he pleased. Loman could not go, leaving things thus. He must see Cripps again, if it was only to know the worst. So he stayed in the bar for the landlord's return.
But they did not. Whatever had brought Cripps there? A thousand possibilities flashed through Loman's mind as he caught sight of his unwelcome acquaintance in the middle of the match. Was he come to make a row about his money before all the school? or had anything fresh turned up, or what?
"That's Loman's fault, I bet you anything," exclaimed Wraysford. "I'm sure he won't do the kid any good. But Rastle was saying only yesterday how well Stephen was getting on in class." "Was he? It's little thanks to me if he is," said Oliver, gloomily. "And what else have you got to grumble about?" asked his friend. "Why, you know how I'm out with the Fifth over that affair with Loman.
Yet had the captain and his men known the cause of all this had they been aware that that flash, half-tipsy cad of a fellow who, with half a dozen of his "pals," was watching the match with a critical air, there at the ropes was the landlord of the Cockchafer himself, the holder of Loman's "little bill" for 30 pounds, they would perhaps have understood and forgiven their comrade's clumsiness.
When he entered Loman's study after his first morning's work in class, he found that youth in a highly amiable frame of mind, and delighted to see him. "Hullo, Greenfield!" he said; "how are you? and how are you getting on? I hear you are in the Fourth Junior; all among the Guinea-pigs and Tadpoles, eh? Which do you belong to?"
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