Read Ebook: Forge of Foxenby by Goodyear R A H Robert Arthur Hanson Whitwell T M R Illustrator

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Ebook has 1374 lines and 50951 words, and 28 pages

This was the sort of bickering which was always going on between the two leading spirits of the Squirms. You never get a pleasant atmosphere where fellows are always trying to score off one another.

For a moment there was a waspish interchange of sarcastic remarks all round. Then Niblo, less peevish than the rest, started them off round the fire in a mock Indian war-dance, which warmed their blood and put them in a better temper.

"Rather a jolly stunt, Niblo, old boy," said Osbody. "Gives me a rattling good idea for a new band--one that should chew the ears off Robin Hood and his Merry Men."

"Out with it, 'Body, my bantam," Niblo said.

"It's this--why shouldn't we all be Wild West cowboys, with Buffalo Bill as the head of the band?"

"Bravo! Hurrah!" cried some of the Squirms.

"Of course!" Grain dryly commented.

"And we'd go on the trail and hunt buffaloes and scalp Red Indians, and--and--well, do all those topping things you see 'em perform at the picture-shows. Now, boys, all in favour of a Buffalo Bill band, hands up!"

Shouts of approval signified an almost unanimous consent.

"Then squat round the fire, my cowboys, and we'll talk over the details," said Osbody.

"Fire's too low," Grain said. "Gone down while we were doing the tomahawk crawl. Wants something on it to make a rattling good flare. What price the fibre-matting which is chucking about over yonder? Jove, it wouldn't half burn."

"So would our ears when the masters had finished clouting them," Osbody observed. "Matting doesn't grow on trees. The gardeners have left it there."

"Shows they've no use for it, then," Grain persisted. "Come on, boys, bring it to the fire."

"No, no," Osbody said. "It's there for a purpose. Covering up saplings from the frost, perhaps."

"Covering up fiddlesticks!" scoffed Grain. "They've chucked it there to get rid of it. Christmas, won't it blaze! Who'll join me in fetching it?"

"It means a furious swishing for whoever does," was Osbody's warning.

"Pooh, 'Body, old man, you're afraid!" Grain jeered.

The taunt reddened Osbody's cheeks still more, but he had the courage to stick to his guns.

"Rotto!" he exclaimed. "I like a lark, but this is sheer fatheadedness. Don't we get hidings enough without seeking them?"

"Who'll get a hiding?" argued Grain. "Not us, if anybody. Every master and prefect in Foxenby knows who prowls round this shrubbery. Supposing the matting is missed, then who'll 'click' the blame for it?"

"Robin Hood and his Merry Men," said Niblo. "I see your drift, Grain."

"Come, Osbody, be a man," Grain urged. "You can see there's no risk. Robin's 'put it across you' more than once lately. What a fine chance of getting your own back!"

Osbody hesitated. His sporting instincts were not altogether dead. In better company he would have realized that Grain's proposal savoured of a dirty trick. But he lived always in hopes of "doing down" Robin Arkness, whose successful rivalry had lately thrown him very much in the shade. Temptation assailed him strongly: he wavered and fell!

"In for a lamb, in for a sheep, chaps," he said. "Come along! We'll fire the matting."

Without giving his conscience any further time to prick, he darted across to the huge sheets of fibre-matting, clutched one, and dragged it towards him.

Then up before his astonished sight there sprang suddenly a bunch of sturdy young figures in football costumes, while from under other similar coverlets emerged the remainder of Robin Hood's Merry Men, with challenging cries that struck terror to the hearts of the dumbfounded Squirms.

"Caught!" cried Robin, leaping straight at Osbody. "Have at them, my Merry Men."

"You rotten sneaks, skulking about in there after pretending to start for footer," cried Osbody, in mortified fury. "Stand your ground, chaps, and slug 'em!"

He certainly set them a gallant example. Whatever his failings, funk was not one of them, and he gave Robin measure for measure in a rough-and-tumble encounter, more like a wrestling-match than a bout of fisticuffs.

Old enemies amongst the rest picked each other out and came to grips, but not more than half of the Squirms faced the music. The remainder ran from the sudden appearance of the Merry Men as they would have galloped from ghosts, and their judgment was good, for those of their gang whom they left behind were in for a sorry time indeed.

A dozen of them were collared and held captive almost at the first attempt. "I yield, I yield!" they cried, in craven chorus.

Not that they lacked reason for giving in so soon on this occasion, because the flight of the majority left them hopelessly outnumbered.

Their arms were pinned behind them, and they were unceremoniously bustled out of the way of the very much severer bouts which were taking place between Robin and Osbody, and between Grain and Little John. Osbody and Grain had far more "ginger" in their natures than any of the other Squirms, and the Merry Men gave them every chance to fight it out, confident that Robin and Little John would sooner or later prove themselves the victors.

Twigs snapped sharply beneath the combatants' feet as they pushed one another to and fro in determined efforts to bring about a fall. But with Arkness and Flenton there rested all the moral advantage that comes of fighting in the presence of friends, and slowly but surely the tide of battle turned in their favour.

"You've got him this time, Robin!" somebody shouted. "His back's bending; he'll be down in a second."

Osbody made a last gallant effort to prove that this prophecy was all wrong, and managed to spin out the struggle half a minute longer. Then over he went with Robin on top of him, and almost simultaneously Little John succeeded in putting Grain flat on his back.

"Hurrah!" cried the Merry Men, rushing to the spot to relieve Robin and Little John of the custody of the vanquished Squirms.

"Chins up, foemen, for I would have speech with ye. Little did ye guess, when ye talked of burning the matting and letting the blame fall on me and my Merry Men, that beneath it I and they lay snugly hidden, ready to pounce out upon ye, and drub ye soundly for such villainous behaviour."

"Villain yourself!" snapped Osbody. "Who pretended to go footballing, and sneaked round here instead? You and your dirty dogs of Men!"

"Bandy not such words with me, caitiff, or it shall go hard with thee and thy crawling Squirms. Fair as the day was the trick we played on ye--a stratagem to draw ye to the Forest, whither ye would have been too chicken-hearted to venture had ye thought to meet us there. Yet ye and Grain have fought a good fight to-day, and I am minded to treat ye well."

"I don't want any of your favours," said Osbody, sulkily.

"I will give thee the chance, nevertheless," said Robin. "Tell me the names of those who put out our fire with garden-syringes, and all but choked us into the bargain."

"Shan't!" said Osbody.

"Thou flatly refuseth, then, to hand the miscreants over to justice?"

"What miscreants? What justice?"

"A murrain on thee for thy saucy back-talk! There will be more trouble than thou wottest of if thou dost not speedily humble thy pride."

Osbody could see that Robin was in a mighty passion at the recollection of the quenched fire, and the heart of the leader of the Squirms sank within him. He was just about to make a clean breast of it when, glancing at Grain, he saw that youth looking at him with contemptuous eyes, as much as to say: "I know you're going to blab to save your precious skin." For it was Grain who had planned and carried out the squirting scheme, besides insisting on mixing chemicals with the fluid, a notion which Osbody had condemned as dangerous.

Grain's sneering gaze stiffened Osbody's back.

"You can save your breath, Arkness," he said. "You know as much about it as you ever will."

"All right, you chump!" answered Robin, dropping back into modern speech. "If you will ask for it, you shall have it, and not only you, but every one of your gang that we've got trussed up to-day, innocent and guilty alike. Boys, bring the master Squirm to the old bonfire."

Laughing in gleeful anticipation of what was to come, the two Merry Men who held Osbody fast dragged him, kicking and struggling, to the ashes of the bonfire which the Squirms had previously extinguished with squirts. Beside this Robin knelt, scooping up a generous handful of black ashes.

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