In Search of Treasure

CHAPTER XIII

DR. MUSGRAVE RECEIVES INFORMATION

It so happened, though Vivian did not know it, that he was seen riding with Jack the carrier by a boy named Jarvis, connected with Milton School.

Jarvis was a toady to Simon, and strove to ingratiate himself with Dr. Musgrave by carrying him tales of his schoolmates.

Hidden behind the shrubbery, Jarvis saw the carrier’s cart with Bell as passenger.

He had been to Bolton to call on an aunt.

On his return to the school he heard of Vivian Bell’s disappearance.

Jarvis congratulated himself on being the first to carry news of his missing scholar to the head master.

In crossing the campus he fell in with Simon.

“What’s the news, Simon?” he asked.

“Bell has run away!”

“Do you know where he has gone?”

“No; but pa’ll catch him, I’m sure of that. I wouldn’t like to be in his shoes then, I can tell you!”

“Didn’t anybody see him go?”

“No; I had just told him pa wanted to see him in the office, and I supposed he would report there. I’ll tell you who knows something about his going away.”

“Who is it?”

“Rawdon. He was with him, and I feel sure that he put Bell up to running away.”

“Very likely. Bell’s a milk-and-water chap. He wouldn’t dare to run away unless someone put him up to it. Have you any idea in what direction he went?”

“No.”

“Humph!”

“What do you mean by your mysterious manner. Do you know anything about his going away?”

“Well, I might have found out something,” answered Jarvis.

“If you know anything it’s your duty to tell me right off,” said Simon, imperiously.

Jarvis, in general, acquiesced in anything that Simon said, but he was aware of the importance of the information he had to offer, and chose to get all the credit himself.

“Why is it my duty to tell you?” he asked.

“So that I may tell pa.”

“It will do just as well if I tell him.”

“No, it won’t. You tell me, and I will go to the office at once and tell pa.”

“There is no need to trouble you, Simon. Whatever there is to tell I can tell myself.”

“I don’t believe you’ve got anything to tell,” said Simon, cunningly.

“Nothing much, only that I saw Bell when he was running away.”

“Where did you see him?” asked Simon, eagerly.

“That’s what I am ready to tell your father.”

Simon made another attempt to obtain the information, but failing, he escorted Jarvis to the office of Dr. Musgrave.

“Pa,” he said, bustling in, “there’s some news of Bell.”

“What is it?” asked the master, looking up from the desk.

“Jarvis saw him running away.”

Jarvis, who had followed Simon into the office, now pressed forward.

“Well, Jarvis, what have you to tell?” asked the doctor.

“This afternoon I saw Bell riding over the Bolton Road with Jack Hunt, the carrier.”

“Ha! that man is in it! I am not surprised. His influence over my pupils is very demoralizing. He will get into trouble if he is not very careful.”

“Can’t you have him arrested, pa?” said Simon, who had a grievance of his own against the independent carrier.

“That depends on his connection with the affair. In what direction was the carrier going?”

“Toward Bolton, sir.”

“Did he or Bell see you?”

“No, sir. I was hiding behind the hedge.”

“What else did you see?”

“Bell had a bundle with him.”

“Ha! a bundle of clothes, no doubt! What time was this?”

Jarvis mentioned the hour.

“He must have started about the time I told him to go to your office, pa.”

“Probably. Simon, do you know where the carrier lives?”

“Yes, pa.”

“What time does he get back from Bolton?”

“About six o’clock.”

“Very well; go there at that time and ask him to step around to see me.”

“All right, pa.”

This was an errand which Simon enjoyed. He reached the carrier’s house just as Jack was unharnessing his horse.

“I say, Jack,” he began, “pa wants to see you right off.”

“Does he?” returned the carrier. “You can tell him where I am. If he will come round here he can see me.”

“He wants to see you at his office.”

“Well, I haven’t time to go there. My supper is waiting for me. Do you know what he wants to see me about?”

“Yes; it’s about Bell. He was seen riding with you this afternoon.”

“Oh, he was, was he? Did you see him riding with me?”

“No, but Jarvis did; so there’s no use of your denying it.”

“I don’t deny it. Master Bell is always welcome to ride with me, but I wouldn’t take you on my cart, nor yet that Jarvis.”

“I say, you’d better be careful. Pa ain’t going to have you help his boys run away.”

“Who’s run away?” asked Jack, innocently.

“Why, Bell, of course. You don’t mean to say you didn’t know it?”

“Master Bell run away! You don’t mean it! Why should he run away from such a kind man as your father?”

“Because he was a bad boy. He always disobeyed the rules,” said Simon, sharply.

“You don’t mean to tell me so! And I thought he was such a good, quiet boy.”

“Where did you leave him?”

“Where did I leave him? I didn’t leave him anywhere. He left me.”

“Where was it?”

“On the road.”

“Did he tell you where he expected to spend the night?”

“He might, and again he mightn’t. I am so forgetful that I never minds what’s told me. It just goes into one ear and out of the other.”

Finding he could get no certain information out of the carrier, Simon started to go, threatening him with arrest for conniving at the escape of Vivian Bell.

“You don’t really think your pa would have me arrested, do you, Simon?” asked the carrier, pretending to be very much frightened.

“You just see!”

“You’ll speak a good word for me, won’t you? You see it would be bad for my business to be arrested.”

“You ought to have thought of that,” said Simon, under the impression that Jack was weakening. “Your only course is to tell pa all you know about Bell, and just where he’s gone.”

“I remember now he told me where he was going.”

“Where?” asked Simon, eagerly.

“To London.”

“To London!” repeated Simon, in disgust. “Why, he’d have to walk all the way!”

“I don’t know anything about that.”

“Why didn’t you turn right round and bring him back to the school? Pa’d have given you a sixpence.”

“Would he, now?”

“Yes; I am sure he would.”

“I can’t leave my business for any such trifle as a sixpence. Besides, it wasn’t any of my business carrying back your father’s runaway scholars.”

“Perhaps you’ll change your mind, Mr. Jack.”

“I’ll make one promise.”

“What’s that?”

“If I ever see you running away I’ll carry you back.”

Simon did not deign a reply to this, but turning on his heel walked out of the yard.

As he left, he said: “You’d better go round and see pa after supper.”

“He knows where he can find me,” returned the carrier, in a sturdy tone.

Arrived at the school, Simon went at once to his father’s study, and reported that the carrier would not obey his command.

“Never mind, Simon,” said Dr. Musgrave. “The grocer has just been here and told me that Bell is staying at Giles Glover’s farm. I shall go for him to-morrow morning.”

CHAPTER XIV

GUY FENWICK REACHES MILTON SCHOOL

Guy Fenwick, accompanied by his friend and fellow passenger, August Locke, started from London early in the morning, bound for Milton.

Reaching the station, Locke proposed to Guy to walk to the school.

“It is only half a mile,” he said, “and it will be a pleasure to me to take a leisurely stroll over the road that was once so familiar to me.”

“I am quite willing,” said Guy. “It is a charming morning, and the country is beautiful.”

“More so than America?”

“I must confess,” said Guy, “that I know of no landscape in America that equals the charm of an English village.”

It was a bright, sunshiny day. The hedge-rows were a dark green. They passed a church overgrown with ivy, and the air was perfumed by sweet flowers.

“How often I have been over this road,” said August Locke.

“Did you enjoy your schooldays, Mr. Locke?”

“I should have done so if we had had a better teacher. Dr. Musgrave’s tyranny spoiled all.”

“Did he abuse you?”

“As much as he dared; but when he went too far my temper got the better of me, and I was ready for anything. I think he knew that, for he did not treat me as badly as some of his pupils who were more timid. How are your American schools?”

“No doubt we have some tyrannical teachers, but the one whose school I attended was a gentleman. He was firm and yet gentle, and all we boys respected and liked him.”

“With such a teacher as you describe Milton School would be a paradise.”

“I don’t see how Dr. Musgrave can retain his position. Does he own the school?”

“No; he is employed by the directors. Most of them live at a distance, and know nothing of his administration. If complaints were made to them they would pay no attention to them. They would take the ground that there is a natural antagonism between pupils and teachers.”

“So the poor boys have little hope of having their wrongs redressed?”

“You are about right.”

The distance between the station and the school was so short that by the time their conversation was over they had nearly reached the gate that led into the school-ground.

“It looks just as it did when I left,” said August Locke, surveying the building and campus with interest. “I can almost imagine that it was only yesterday I went away.”

“Except when you look in the glass.”

“Yes; I have grown from a boy into a man of twenty-five. I should be more than a match for old Musgrave now,” and the young man regarded with satisfaction his muscular arms and well-knit figure.

“Really,” he added, “I shouldn’t mind if there were occasion, having a tussle with the old fellow. I fancy he wouldn’t stand long before his old pupil.”

There were several boys scattered about the campus.

August Locke and Guy entered, and looked about them for someone whom they could interrogate.

The nearest was a stout, well-knit boy, with a strong, resolute face, and a frank expression. In fact, it was Jim Rawdon, already introduced as the friend and adviser of Vivian Bell.

“My boy,” said Locke, with pleasant courtesy, “can you tell me if Dr. Musgrave is in his office?”

“No, sir; not this morning.”

“Isn’t that rather strange—at this hour? You see, I am an old pupil, and haven’t forgotten the ways of the place.”

“He is usually here, sir; but he made an early start to hunt up a pupil who ran away a day or two since.”

“What is the name of the pupil?” asked Guy, quickly.

“Vivian Bell.”

“I thought so,” said Guy.

“Are you a friend of Bell?” asked Rawdon.

“Yes; I am more than a friend, though I never saw him. I am sent here by his guardian.”

“But I thought his guardian lived in Bombay?”

“So he does; but I come from Bombay.”

“I am glad of it,” said Rawdon.

“Are you a friend of Vivian?” asked Guy.

“Yes; I am about the only friend the poor boy has in this place.”

“Do you mean that he is generally unpopular?”

“No; we all like him; but I am the only one who dares stand up for him.”

“His guardian received a letter complaining that he was ill treated by the head master.”

“That is true enough. He has been very badly treated.”

“Why? Isn’t he a good boy?”

“Yes. The trouble is that he is too good and gentle. Dr. Musgrave felt that it would be safe to bully him, and he has done so.”

“You are not giving Dr. Musgrave a very good character.”

“He doesn’t deserve one.”

“In what way has Vivian been ill treated?”

“He has been flogged two or three times a week on an average.”

“Without deserving it?”

“Yes.”

“What excuse can the doctor have for flogging him?”

“Well, to begin with, Simon is down upon him.”

“Who is Simon?”

“Simon Musgrave, the doctor’s son. He’s as bad as his father, and I don’t know but worse.”

“Have you had anything to complain of?”

“No. He doesn’t dare to meddle with me. I thrashed him once so effectually that he thinks it wisest to let me alone.”

“Coming back to Vivian, you say that Dr. Musgrave has gone in search of him?”

“Yes; he started early, accompanied by Simon.”

“Then I suppose he had information as to his whereabouts?”

“Yes. He heard that he was at Giles Glover’s farm, about four miles away.”

“Will he probably find him there?”

“I am afraid so. It was I who advised him to run away, and I told him to go to Giles Glover’s.”

“Perhaps he may have left there.”

“No. He was to wait till I got a chance to go and see him. I haven’t had any chance yet. Bell is a timid boy, and he wouldn’t know where to go. I meant to start him to London to see his guardian’s bankers.”

“Let me shake hands with you,” said Guy, impulsively. “I am proud to know you. You have had the courage to be a friend to a boy who was badly abused. What is your name?”

“Jim Rawdon.”

“Mine is Guy Fenwick. I am an American boy.”

“And yet you are sent here by Bell’s guardian,” said Rawdon, in surprise.

“Yes. It is too long a story to explain now.”

“I like you, even if you are not English,” said Rawdon. “Do what you can for Bell.”

“That is what I have come here for. What will happen if Dr. Musgrave captures him?”

“He will flog Bell before the whole school, worse than he ever did before.”

“You may rest assured that he won’t do that,” said August Locke. “I think I shall have something to say.”

Jim Rawdon’s face glowed with pleasure.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said. “Oh, won’t there be a high old time!”

“I fancy there will. I was once a pupil of Dr. Musgrave, and I owe him a few returns for past favors. Does he often flog you?”

“He never has yet,” said Rawdon. “He knows that my father would take me away instantly if he tried it. Besides—I don’t mind telling you two—he owes my father borrowed money, and that makes him cautious.”

“I am glad that you, at any rate, are safe. So Simon is no improvement on his father?”

“No. If you were here as a pupil, how is it you don’t remember Simon?”

“He was only a small boy then, perhaps six years old, and I was not likely to know anything of him.”

“Shall you stay here till the doctor returns?”

“Yes. It will be our best course. You don’t think the doctor will attempt to punish Bell before he gets him back?”

“No. That isn’t his way. He will call the school together, and give him a cruel flogging before all the boys. I have often seen such punishment, and it makes my blood boil; but what could I do?”

Five minutes later Rawdon called out in excitement:

“There comes the doctor! Simon and Bell are with him!”

August Locke and Guy looked up the road. A wagon was approaching, drawn by a bony-looking horse.

Simon was driving. On the back seat was Dr. Musgrave, tall, thin, with a stern-looking visage, and beside him Vivian Bell, his face red and tearful.

He well knew what a terrible punishment awaited him.

CHAPTER XV

DR. MUSGRAVE’S HUMILIATION

Dr. Musgrave was so occupied with thoughts of the punishment that he proposed to inflict on the poor boy whom he had captured that he did not notice the visitors, who stood at one side of the path leading to his office.

Simon brought up the wagon in front of the gate.

Dr. Musgrave jumped out, and then extended his hand to Vivian Bell.

“Give me your hand!” he said gruffly.

The poor boy tremblingly held out his hand, which was grasped roughly by the tyrant. He was jerked out with no gentle motion.

“Now, Simon, give me the whip!”

Dr. Musgrave grasped it, and seizing Vivian by the collar, began to push him before him up the path.

Guy and August Locke looked on in disgust and anger.

“Speak to him, Mr. Locke,” whispered Guy.

“Dr. Musgrave!” said August, in a clear, cold voice.

Then for the first time the head master turned his attention to the newcomers.

“I will be at your service in a few moments,” he said, waving his hand.

He thought that August Locke wished to enter Guy at his school.

“That will not do, Dr. Musgrave. I wish your attention now!”

Dr. Musgrave, whose temper was none of the best, took umbrage at this.

“You will have to wait!” he said, sharply. “I have to mete out justice to this young rascal, who had the audacity to run away from me. I have just recovered him, and I intend to flog him in the presence of the school. You can be present, if you like.”

“Dr. Musgrave,” said Locke, sternly, “this flogging shall not take place!”

“What!” exclaimed the head master, with blazing eyes. “Do you come here to interfere with my discipline?”

“I do; or rather we do.”

“I never heard of such audacity!” exclaimed Dr. Musgrave, fairly aghast.

“Is not this boy Vivian Bell?”

“Yes.”

“Then you shall not flog him!”

Dr. Musgrave was exasperated beyond endurance. He had been accustomed to move among his pupils like an Eastern despot, with no one bold enough to oppose him.

“This is my answer,” he said, grasping the whip, and lashing Vivian across the legs, eliciting a cry of pain.

“And this is mine!” said August Locke.

He snatched the whip from the head master, grasped him by the collar, and with all the strength he possessed rained down blows across the teacher’s legs.

Dr. Musgrave shrieked with anger and dismay. As he did so he let go of Vivian Bell.

Guy instantly drew the trembling boy to his side.

“What do you mean by this outrage?” demanded Dr. Musgrave. “Give me back that whip!”

“You cannot be trusted with it,” said Locke, coolly.

Dr. Musgrave, fairly boiling with passion, made a spring for Vivian, but August Locke anticipated the movement, and brought down the whip over the head master’s shoulders.

“Boys, come to the help of your teacher!” shrieked Musgrave.

Not a boy stirred except Simon.

He ran forward, and tried to attack Vivian Bell.

Guy let go of Vivian, and with a well-directed blow stretched Simon on the ground.

“What do you mean by this outrage? Who are you?” asked the head master, pale and agitated.

“I, sir, am August Locke, once your pupil,” replied Locke. “I am paying you off for some of your former brutality.”