Reginald Cruden | Page 2

to it," said Reginald; "there's only a week more."
"I don't see why you need growl, old man," said the visitor who had spoken first; "you'll get into the sixth and have a study to yourself, and no mathematics unless you like."
"Poor Harker," said Horace, "he's always down on mathematics. Anyhow, I shan't be sorry to show up at Wilderham again, shall you, Bland?"
"Depends on the set we get," drawled Bland (whose full name was Blandford). "I hear there's a crowd of new fellows coming, and I hate new fellows."
"A fellow must be new some time or other," said Horace. "Harker and I were new boys once, weren't we, Harker?"
Harker, who had shared the distinction of being tossed with Horace in the same blanket every night for the first week of his sojourn at Wilderham, had not forgotten the fact, and ejaculated,--
"Rather!"
"The mischief is," continued Blandford, "they get such a shady lot of fellows there now. The school's not half as respectable as it was-- there are far too many shopkeepers' sons and that sort of--"
"Sort of animal, he'd like to say," laughed Horace. "Bland can't get over being beaten for the French prize by Barber, the tailor's son."
Blandford flushed up, and was going to answer when Reginald interposed.
"Well, and suppose he can't, it's no wonder. I don't see why those fellows shouldn't have a school for themselves. It's not pleasant to have the fellow who cuts your waistcoat crowing over you in class."
Horace began to whistle, as he generally did when the conversation took a turn that did not please him.
"Best way to remedy that," said he, presently, "is not to get beaten by your tailor's son."
"Shut up, Horace," said the elder brother; "what's the use of making yourself disagreeable? Bland's quite right, and you know you think so yourself."
"Oh, all serene," said Horace, cheerfully; "shouldn't have known I thought so unless you had told me. What do you think, Harker?"
"Well," said Harker, laughing, "as I am disreputable enough to be the only son of a widow who has barely enough to live on, and who depends on the charity of a cousin or some one of the sort for my education, I'm afraid Bland and I would have to go to different schools."
Every one laughed at this confession, and Reginald said,--
"Oh, but you're different, Harker--besides, it isn't money makes the difference--"
"The thing is," interposed Horace, "was your father in the wholesale or retail trade?--that's the difference!"
"I wish you'd shut up, Horace," said Reginald tartly; "you always spoil any argument with your foolery."
"Now that's hard lines," said Horace, "when I thought I was putting the case beautifully for you. Never mind. What do you say to a bathe in the river, you fellows?"
"Too much fag to get towels," said Reginald; "but if you like to go for them, and don't ask us to look at our watches and see in how many seconds you run up to the house and back, we'll think about it."
"Thanks," said Horace, and started up to the house whistling cheerily.
"Awfully hot that brother of yours make? a fellow," said Blandford, watching him disappear.
"Yes," said Reginald, yawning, "he is rather flighty, but he'll turn out all right, I hope."
"Turn out!" said Harker; "why he's all right already, from the crown of his head to the sole of his boot."
"Except," said Blandford, "for a slight crack in the crown of his head. It's just as well, perhaps, he's not the eldest son, Reg."
"Well," said Reginald laughing, "I can hardly fancy Horace the head of the family."
"Must be a rum sensation," said Harker, "to be an heir and not have to bother your head about how you'll get your bread and butter some day. How many hundred millions of pounds is it you'll come in for, Reg? I forget."
"What a humbug you are!" said Reginald; "my father's no better off than a lot of other people."
"That's a mild way of putting it, anyhow," said Blandford.
And here the conversation ended.
The boys lay basking in the sun waiting for Horace's return. He was unusually long in coming.
"Seems to me," said Blandford, "he's trying how long he can be instead of how quick--for a variety."
"Just like him," said Reginald.
Five minutes passed away, and ten, and fifteen, and then, just as the boys were thinking of stirring themselves to inquire what had become of him, they heard his steps returning rapidly down the gravel walk.
"Well," cried Reginald, without sitting up, "have you got them at last?"
Horace's voice startled them all as he cried,--
"Reg! Reg! come quick, quick!"
There was no mistaking either the tones or the white face of the boy who uttered them.
Reginald was on his feet in an instant, rushing in the direction of the house, towards which his brother had already started.
"What is it, Horace?" he said as he overtook