The Triple Alliance | Page 7

impatiently.
"What else have you got ?"
"Well, here's a wire puzzle, only I think a bit of it's lost, and the clasp
of a cricket belt, and old Dick Rodman's chessboard and some of the
men, and some stuff for chilblains, and--"
"Oh, dry up!" interrupted Acton; "what bosh! Who d'you expect would
buy any of that rubbish? Look here, we'll give you till after dinner, and
unless you find something sensible by then, we shall come and hunt for
ourselves."
"That's just like Mug," said Jack Vance to Diggory, as the group of
boys slowly dispersed; "he's always doing something stupid. But I

suppose as we made that alliance, we ought to try to help the beggar
somehow."
They followed their unfortunate comrade to his desk, which when
opened displayed a perfect chaos of ragged books, loose sheets of paper,
broken pen-holders, pieces of string, battered cardboard boxes, and
other rubbish.
"Look here, Mug, what have you got to sell? you'll have to fork out
something."
"I don't know," returned the other mournfully, stirring up the contents
of the desk as though he were making a Christmas pudding. "I've got
nothing, except--well, there's this book of Poe's, 'Tales of Adventure,
Mystery, and Imagination,' and my clasp-knife; and perhaps some one
would buy these fret-saw patterns or this dog-chain."
He turned out two or three more small articles and laid them on the
form.
"Are there any of these things you particularly wish to keep?" asked
Diggory; "because, if so, Vance and I'll bid for them, and then you can
buy them back from us again when you've got some more money."
"That's awfully kind of you," answered Mugford, brightening up. "I'll
tell you what I should like to keep, and that's my clasp-knife and the
book; they're such jolly stories. 'The Pit and the Pendulum' always
gives me bad dreams, and 'The Premature Burial' makes you feel
certain you'll be buried alive."
"All right; and did you bring a cake back with you?"
"Yes."
"Well, then, sell that first, and you can share our grub."
The auction was held directly after dinner. The cake fetched a shilling,
and Diggory and Vance bid ninepence each for the book and

pocket-knife; so Mugford came out of his difficulty without suffering
any further loss than what was afterwards made good again by the
generosity of his two comrades. They, for their part, made no fuss over
this little act of kindness, but handed the book and clasp-knife over to
Mugford without waiting for the money, and little thinking what an
important part these trifling possessions would play in the subsequent
history of the Triple Alliance.
The sale had not long been concluded, and the little community were
preparing to obey Acton's order to "Come outside," when the latter
rushed into the room finning with rage.
"I say," he exclaimed, "what do you think that beast of a Noaks has
done? Why, he's gone and put ashes all over our slide!"
In their heart of hearts every one felt decidedly relieved at this
announcement; still it was necessary, at all events, to simulate some of
their leader's wrath, and accordingly there was a general outcry against
the offender.
"Oh, the cad!"--"What an awful shame!"--"Let's tell Blake!" etc., etc.
"Who is Noaks?" asked Diggory. "Is he that sour-looking man who
brings the boots in every morning?"
"Yes, that's so," answered Vance. "He hates us all--partly, I believe,
because his son's a Philistine. I wonder old Welsby doesn't get another
man."
"His son's a what?" asked Diggory; but at that moment Acton came
marching round the room ordering every one out into the playground,
and Jack Vance hurried off to get his cap and muffler without replying
to the question.
Sliding was out of the question, and the "House of Lords" having
amused themselves for a time by capturing small boys and throwing
them into the snow-drift, some one remarked that it would be good fun
to build a snow man; which proposition was received with acclamation,

and all hands were soon hard at work rolling the big balls which were
to form the base of the statue. As the work progressed the interest in it
increased, the more so when Diggory suggested that the figure should
be supposed to represent the obnoxious Noaks, and that the company
could then relieve their feelings by pelting his effigy as soon as it was
completed. Every one was pleased with the project, and even Acton,
who as a rule would never follow up any plan which was not of his
own making, took special pains to cause the snow man to bear some
likeness to the original. He had just, by way of a finishing touch,
expended nearly half a penny bottle of red ink in a somewhat
exaggerated