The Gold-Stealers | Page 4

glory await you. Peterson, you see here
how degraded that boy be comes who forgets those higher principles
which it is my earnest effort to instil into the hearts and minds of the
boys of this depraved township. Cann, my boy, behold how brutalising
is ungoverned instinct.'
But, wearying of the contest, the master made a sudden descent upon
Jacker, and tore him from his enemy's grasp. The effort brought Dick to
his feet, panting and still eager for the fray. He could not see an inch
beyond his nose, and for a few moments moved about fiercely, feeling
for his foe.
'D'you gimme best?' he spluttered. 'If you don't, come on--I ain't done
up!' Then he flung the curtain of cobweb from his eyes, and the
situation flashed upon him in all its grim significance. For a swift

moment he thought of flight, but the master's grip was on his collar.
'Blowed if it ain't Jo,' he murmured in his consternation, and yielded
meekly, like one for whom Fate had proved too strong.
The schoolmaster's white-lashed eyelids blinked rapidly for a second or
so, and he screwed his face into a hard wrinkled grin of gratification.
'Yes, Ginger, my lad,' he said genially, 'Jo, at your service--very much
at your service; and yours, McKnight. We will go inside now, boys.
The sun is painfully hot, and you are fatigued.'
He marched his captives before him into the school room and ranged
them against the wall, under the wide-open wondering eyes of the
scholars, by whom even the most trifling incident of rebellion was
always welcomed with glee as a break in the dull monotony of Joel
Ham's peculiar system. But this was no trifling incident, it was a
tremendous outrage and a delightful mystery; for the boys as they stood
there presented to the amazed classes a strange and amazing spectacle,
and were clothed in an original and, so far as the children were
concerned, an inexplicable disguise. Fighting and tumbling about under
the school house, Haddon and McKnight had gathered much mud, but
more cobwebs. In fact, they had wiped up so many webs that they were
covered from head to foot in the clammy dusty masses. Their hats were
lost early in the encounter, and their hair was full of cobwebs; sticky
curtains of cobweb hung about their faces, and swathed them from top
to toe in what looked like a dirty grey fur. Each boy had cleared his
eyes of the thick veil, but so inhuman and unheard of was their
appearance that there was presently a suspicion amongst the scholars
that the master had captured two previously unknown specimens of the
animal kingdom, and consequently further astonishing developments
might be looked for.
CHAPTER II.
Mr. HAM, with wise forethought, carefully locked the door and
pocketed the key after disposing of the lads; and this was well, for Dick
Haddon, fully appreciating the possibilities of the situation, was already

plotting--plotting with every faculty of an active and inventive mind.
The master faced his prisoners, and stood musing over them like a
pensive but kindly cormorant. Mr. Joel Ham, B.A., was a small thin
man with a deceitful appearance of weakness. There was a peculiar
indecision about all his joints that made the certainty of his spring and
the vigour of his grip matters of wonder to all those new boys who
ventured to presume upon his seeming infirmities. He had a scraggy red
neck, a long beak-like nose, and queer slate-coloured eyes with pale
lashes; his hair was thin and very fine in colour and texture, strangely
like that of a yellow cat; and face, neck, and nose were mottled with
patches of small purple veins. To-day he was dressed in a long seedy
black coat, a short seedy black vest, and a pair of now moleskins,
glaringly white, and much too long and too large.
'Haddon,' said the master in a reflective tone, 'you are not looking as
neat as usual. You need dusting. I will perform that kind office
presently, and, believe me, I will do it well. Jacker, I intend to leave
you standing here for a few moments to cool. You may have noticed,
boys, that the youthful form when over-heated or possessed with
unusual excitement has not that poignant susceptibility which might be
thought necessary to the adequate appreciation of a judicious
lambasting. Has that ever occurred to you, McKnight?'
Jacker shifted his feet uneasily, rolled his body, and, knowing that
nothing could aggravate his offence, answered sullenly:
'Oh, dry up!'
Mr. Ham grinned at the boy in silence for a few moments, and then
returned to his high stool and desk. Mr. Ham never made the slightest
effort to maintain before his scholars that dignity which is supposed to
be essential to