meet the others to goby the half-past six train," said Walter desperately.
"You must look sharp, then--it's just off. There, be off down thosesteps as hard as you can split."
Walter obeyed. In his anxiety he forgot all about Chris; and not evenwhen he reached the bottom of the steps, and caught sight of Mr.Richardson's troubled countenance looking for the truants from one ofthe carriage windows, did he recollect his friend.
The platform was crowded with people, and though Walter could see therector, the latter could not distinguish him. If he had but worn thered badge upon his shoulder, matters might even yet have gone well;but, as it was, all Walter's efforts to shoulder his way through themasses of people only brought him to the front of the platform as thetrain steamed off!
At the last moment of all, Mr. Richardson's eye fell upon him, and hecalled out something, but Walter could not hear what it was.
A feeling of despair came over him as he turned back towards thesteps. He had just remembered Chris.
"What _shall_ we do?" he thought. "I haven't a penny, and Chris can'thave much left either. Oh, there he is!" as he caught sight of theother lad's ill-tempered, flushed face at the foot of the steps.
"You sneak!" cried Chris angrily; "what d'ye mean by leaving me in thelurch like this?"
"But you wouldn't hurry, Chris; and as it is, we've lost thetrain--that was ours that's just gone. What are we to do now? Have yougot any money?"
"No; you know I ain't, else I shouldn't ha' left the 'public' soquick. It's all your fault," answered Chris savagely, the beermounting to his head more and more every minute, and he as usualgrowing more unpleasant and ill-tempered as his power ofself-restraint grew weaker.
Walter was wise enough not to try arguing with or blaming him. He knewit would be worse than useless.
It was now getting dark, and the station was being lighted up. By somehappy chance, Walter found his way out of it, and into the town, stillholding on to Chris.
"Leave go," said the latter roughly. "I ain't a baby, nor aperambulator neither, to be pushed about by you."
He walked, or rather stumbled, along some way without help, Walterfeeling utterly disgusted both with himself and his friend.
"But he shan't be my friend no more after to-day--I've made up my mindas to that," he said to himself. "Father's often told me he wasn't agood companion, and I know I didn't believe him. I thought Chris was afine fellow, as really knew more than other folks--he always talked asif he did--but I see now 'twas all talk, and he ain't near so sensiblenor so pleasant as some of the other chaps. I ain't going to telltales, but if Mr. Richardson could see him now, I don't think Chris'ud stay much longer in the choir."
By this time they had reached the Palace Arms again, and Christopheronce more turned in at the door.
"What's he doing that for?" thought Walter, "when he said he hadn't afarthing left. _I_ shan't go in--I've had enough of it."
So he stayed in the street. He could hear voices--and very angryones--within. They rose louder and louder, and then there seemed asort of struggle.
Walter's anxiety to know what was going on had just conquered hisreluctance to be mixed up in anything like a drunken row, when thedoor was hastily opened, and several men, among them the landlord ofthe tavern, appeared, all pushing and shoving at Chris in order toturn him out. They succeeded at last, and a very disgusting spectaclehe presented as he half stood, half lounged against a lamp-post. Hishat was gone--some one threw it out to him a minute later--his coatwas torn, his collar and tie were all crooked, his eyes werebloodshot, and his expression was a mixture of fury and helplessness.
More than ever did Walter wish he was not obliged to claimcompanionship with this degraded, low-looking man.
As he stood watching the impotent rage with which Chris kicked thelamp-post, as though he thought it was one of the enemies he wished topunish, a policeman came suddenly round the corner. Chris made a sortof rush at him with an angry yell.
"Hullo! Drunk and disorderly, are you? Come along o' me," said theconstable coolly, quietly slipping a pair of handcuffs over Chris'swrists. The latter, with renewed passion, struggled vehemently, butthe policeman took no notice; he merely led Chris along, withoututtering a word. It was not far to the police-station. When they hadgot there, Chris's captor suddenly observed Walter, who had followedat a little distance.
"What do _you_ want?" he asked. "A night in the lock-up?"
He spoke in jest, and was very much astonished when Walter answered,--
"Yes, please."
"What? In here?" said the policeman in amazement, looking at therespectable, quiet lad. "Why, man, it's a sort of a jail."
"I don't _want_ to go there, of course," replied Walter; "but me andhim"--pointing to Chris--"has got lost, and if he's going there, why,I s'pose I must too."
"Is this your pal, then? You don't know how to choose your mates, Ishould say," observed the policeman. "'Tis too late for you to see amagistrate, or you could speak to Colonel Law. Where d'ye come from?"
Walter related his story, Chris meanwhile sitting on the steps almostasleep.
"It seems to me it's all your fault for not doing as the gentlemantold you, but going by such as he," said the constable, lookingdisdainfully at Chris. "Now, look here," he added; "if you'll wait atthe door while I take in this chap and speak to the superintendent,when I've done I'll take you to the colonel, and p'raps he'll seeyou."
Walter thanked him, and waited patiently till he reappeared.
They soon reached the colonel's house, and were admitted to see him,when the policeman recounted Walter's adventures. The magistrate was atall, thin old man, with a bristling white moustache, and a verysharp, quick manner.
"Well," he said to Walter, "if your story is true, you've been a veryfoolish fellow, and quite spoilt what might have been a very pleasantday. You can go and sit in the kitchen and have some supper, while Itelegraph to your rector. If he says it is all as you say, I will lendyou the money to go back by the 9.30 train."
"Oh, thank you, sir, thank you," cried Walter, feeling as if histroubles were coming to an end at last. "But what about Chris?"
"Your friend in the lock-up? He must stay there till he is let out.When he is set free, I suppose his relations will send the money forhis journey--you can see about that when you get home--and he willprobably have to pay a fine also, before he can go."
Never had Walter enjoyed a supper more. An hour passed quickly away,and he was quite surprised at being summoned again so soon to thecolonel's library. He looked less fierce this time.
"It's all right, Franklin," he said. "Mr. Richardson has requested meto help you, so here is the money. I hope you will get home safely,and learn from the events of to-day to choose your friends from amongthe steady lads of the village, and not to listen to the big talkers,who want you to despise your elders, and judge for yourself."
"No, sir; I don't mean to be friends with Chris again," said Walter."Thank you for helping me, sir. Good-night."
He shut the door, and as he walked away he said to himself,--
"I see now what it is that makes Chris so often go wrong. It's justthat whatever any one tells him to do, he always says, 'I know best.'"
THE END.
Transcriber's Note:
The frontispiece illustration has been shifted to follow the title page.
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