CHAPTER V
COTTON AND HIS JACKAL
As I said before, the victory of the despised Biffenites over the FifthForm eleven--a moderate one, it is true--caused quite a little breeze ofsurprise to circulate around the other houses, which had by process oftime come to regard that slack house as hopeless in the fields or in theschools. Over all the tea-tables that afternoon the news was commented onwith full details; how Chalmers had gained in deadliness just as much ashe had lost in selfishness, and how Raven and Worcester had worked likehorses, and mown down the opposition--"Fifth Form opposition!" said thefags, with a lift of the eyebrows--like grass, and as for Biffen's newcaptain, well, if there was one player who could hold a candle to him itmust be Phil Bourne, and he only.
In the Rev. E. Taylor's house, Cotton senior, who answered to the name of"Jim" among his familiars, and was "Bully Cotton" to his enemies--everyAmorian below the Fifth, and a good sprinkling elsewhere--and AugustusVernon Robert Todd, who was "Gus" to every one, sat at tea together inTodd's room. Cotton had been one of the slain that afternoon on the Acres,and was still in his footer clothes, plus a sweater, which almost came upto his ears. There was a bright fire in the grate, and though Todd's roomwas not decorative compared with most of the other fellows' dens, yet itwas cheerful enough. Cotton had come back from the match hungry and atrifle bruised from a smart upset, only to find his own fire out, andpreparations for tea invisible. Having uttered dire threats against hisabsent, erring fag, he moved into his friend's room, and the two clubbedtogether their resources, and the result was a square meal, towards whichCotton contributed something like 19/20, A.V.R. Todd's share being limitedto the kettle, the water, and the fire. When Cotton had satisfied hisfooter appetite, he turned down his stocking and proceeded vigorously toanoint with embrocation his damaged leg, the pungent scent of the linimentbeing almost ornamental in its strength.
"How did you get that, Jim?" said Gus, surveying the brawny limb withinterest.
"Acton brought me down like a house, my boy."
"Fair?"
"Oh yes; but you've got to go down if he catches you in his swing."
"You fellows must have played beautifully to let Biffen's mob maul you tothat extent."
"Gus, my boy, instead of frowsing up here all the afternoon with yourbooks, you should have been on the touch-line watching those Biffenites attheir new tricks. Your opinion then would have a little avoirdupois. As itis, you Perry Exhibit, it is worth exactly nothing."
"You're deucedly classical to-night, Jim."
"Oh, I'm sick of this forsaken match and all the compliments we've hadover it. I'm going now to have a tub, and then we'll get that Latin paperthrough, and, thirdly, I'll have the chessmen out."
"Sorry, I can't, Jim," said Todd, discontentedly. "There is that beastlyPerry Scholarship--I must really do something for that!"
"Thomas Rot, Esq.!" said Cotton. "Haven't you been a-cramming anda-guzzling for that all this afternoon? You've a duty towards your chums,Toddy, so I tell you."
"That's all very well, Jim, for you, who are going to break some crammer'sheart, and then crawl into the Army through the Militia, but my paterwants me to do something in the Perry, I tell you."
"Chess!" said Cotton, disregarding Todd's bleat, and then, with a slysmile, he added, "Shilling a game, Gus, and you know you always pull offthe odd one."
"All right," said Todd, swallowing the bait with forlorn eagerness; "I'llhave the board set out if you must come in."
"Oh, I must!" said Cotton, with a half-sneer at Todd's anxiety to pick upa small sum. "Clear the table, and we'll make a snug evening of it."
Todd's method of clearing a table was novel, if not original. He carriedit bodily into Cotton's room, and then returned with his friend'smahogany, which was undoubtedly more ornamental than his own.
Acton was absolutely right when he sneeringly called Gus "Cotton'sjackal." Todd was exactly of the material which makes a good jackal,though he never became quite Jim Cotton's toady. He was a sharp, selfishindividual, good-looking in an aimless kind of way, with a slack, feeblemouth, and a wandering, indecisive glance. He had a quick, shallowcleverness, which could get up pretty easily enough of inexact knowledgeto pass muster in the schools. Old Corker knew his capabilities to a hair,and would now and then, when Gus offered up some hazy, speciousguess-work, blister him with a little biting sarcasm. Todd feared theDoctor as he feared no one else. Todd's chief private moan was that henever had any money. His father was a rich man, but had some ideas whichwere rather rough on his weak-kneed son. He tipped poor Gus as though hewere some thrifty hairdresser's son, and Todd had to try to ruffle it withyoung Amorians on as many shillings as they had crowns. Not a lad who everhad naturally any large amount of self-respect, the little he had soonwent, and he became, while still a fag, a hewer of wood and drawer ofwater to his better-tipped cronies. His destiny finished when, on hisentry into the Fifth, Jim Cotton claimed him, and subsidized him as hisman.
At the beginning of the term his father had told him that if he could makea good show in the Perry Exhibition there need not be any more grumblingabout his tip. Gus came back to St. Amory's hysterically anxious to cutout all competitors for the Perry, but the shackles of his old serfdomwere still about him. When he showed signs of being restive to the oldclaims, and recommended Cotton to do his own classics and mathematics,Cotton coolly and calmly demanded repayment of sundry loans contracted ofold. Todd had not the pluck to face a term of plain living and highthinking by paying his former patron all he owed him and exhausting allhis present tip by so doing, but flabbily, though discontentedly, cavedin, and became Cotton's jackal as before.
Cotton was by no means as bad as his endearing name might make you think.He was a tall, heavy fellow, with a large, determined-looking face. He waswonderfully stupid in the schools, but was quite clever enough to know it.He had some good qualities. He was straight enough in all extra-schoolaffairs, did not lie, nor fear any one; kept his word, and expected you tokeep yours.
"You can't beat Hodgson of the Sixth, Gus, so what is the good of sweatingall the term? Hodgson's got the deuce of a pull over you to start with."
"I'm not frightened of Hodgson if you wouldn't bother, Jim."
"Can't do without you, old cock. You're just the fellow to lift my Latinand those filthy mathematics high enough out of the mud to keep the beaksfrom worrying me to death. I tried Philips for a week, but he did suchweird screeds in the 'unseens' that Merishall smelt a rat, and was mostparticular attentive to me, but your leverage is just about my fightingweight."
Gus had sniffed discontentedly at this dubious compliment; but Cotton hadsmiled stolidly, and continued to use Gus as his classical andmathematical hack. Besides, there was something about Gus's easy-goinglackadaisical temperament which exactly suited Cotton, and he felt for hisgrumbling jackal a friendliness apart from Gus's usefulness to him.
This afternoon had been a fair sample of Todd's usual half-holiday.Feeling no heart for any serious work for the Perry, he had spent it inreading half a worthless novel, and skimming through a magazine, andfeeling muddled and discontented in consequence. He had the uneasy feelingthat he was an arrant ass in thus fooling time away, but had notsufficient self-denial to seize upon a quiet afternoon for a littlegenuine work.
Cotton soon returned from his bath, and the two cronies spent about anhour in getting up the least modicum of their classics which would satisfyMerishall; and then they played chess, by which Gus was one florin richer.A third game was in progress, but Todd managed to tip over the board whenhe was "going to mate in five moves." Cotton thereupon said he had hadenough, but Gus avariciously tried to reconstruct the positions. He faileddismally, and Cotton laughed sweetly. Now Cotton's laugh would almost makehis chum's hair curl, so he retorted pretty sweetly himself, "I say, Jim.I can't get out of my head that awful hammering you fellows got thisafternoon. Think Biffen's lot likely to shape well in the House matches?"
"There's no telling, old man. But if they get m
oderate luck they'll bewaltzing about in the final."
"That's absolute blazing idiocy!" said Todd, knocking over more chessmenin his astonishment.
"All right, Gus. To talk absolute blazing idiocy is my usual habit, ofcourse. They may carry off the final even, but that, perhaps, is a tallorder."
Todd nursed his astonishment for a full five minutes, whistlingoccasionally, as at some very fantastic idea. At last he said moreseriously: "Aren't you now, Jim, really pulling my leg?"
"No, honour bright! Biffen's are really eye-openers."
Gus said with infinite slyness: "Look here, I'll bet you evens Biffen's_don't_ pull off the final."
"Oh, that is rot, Gus, to talk about betting, for you can't pay if youlose."
Gus had not too much sensitiveness in his character, but this unmeantinsult stung him.
"You've no right to say that. I've paid all I've ever betted with you."
Cotton considered heavily in his own mind for a moment. "That is almosttrue, but--"
"Well, what do you mean--" began Todd, in a paddy.
"All right," said Cotton; "shut up, confound you! I'll take you."
"Three quid Biffen's are not cock-house at 'footer.'"
"Done," said Cotton, unwillingly pulling out his note-book; "and straight,Todd, I shall expect you to pay if you lose."
"Oh, shut up, Cotton, you cad! I shall pay if I lose, man. What do youwant to keep on insulting me like that for?"
"Steady, Gus. You'll have Taylor up if you howl like that. I meantnothing."
"Nothing!" said Gus in a fury, seeking for something particularly sweet tosay to his patron. "I jolly well hope, then, that if our house should meet'em in the rounds you will do your little best to put a stopper on theircareer. Don't, for the sake of pulling off your bet, present 'em with afew goals. You 'keep' for our house, you know."
"Oh, dash it all, Todd," said Cotton, in a white rage, "you are a bounder!Think I'd sell my side?" he demanded furiously.
"Ah!" said Gus, delighted at having got through Cotton's skin. "You don'tstomach insults any more than I do. Then why do you ladle them out sojolly freely to me?"
"That was a particularly low one," said Cotton angrily; "and anyway, youavaricious beggar, you've got thundering good terms, for it is hardlylikely that Biffen's can really be cock-house. There's Corker's house,with Bourne and Hodgson and a few more good men. You're a sight morelikely to see my three sovs, that I am yours."
"I hope so," said Gus, with some relief at the anticipation of thispleasant prospect.
Then the anger of the two simmered down, each having given and receivedsome very choice compliments, and as these little breezes were usualbetween the two, ten minutes afterwards they were amiably entertainingeach other. Cotton was putting up a pair of dumb-bells three hundredtimes, and his crony was counting and criticising his form. The PerryExhibition did not enter Todd's head, but his bet--"such a gilt-edgedone," he chuckled--was never once out of it. And Todd's bet had somemomentous consequences for him, too.