Hector's Inheritance, Or, the Boys of Smith Institute

“Come here and play.”

“I would rather not.”

“I am not going to have you sulking round here. Do you hear me?”

“Are you one of the teachers?” asked Tommy, innocently.

“You’ll find out who I am,” answered Jim, roughly. “Here, Palmer, do you want a little fun with this young one?”

Palmer and Bates were Jim Smith’s most devoted adherents.

“What are you going to do, Jim?” questioned Palmer.

“I’m going to stir him up a little,” said Jim, with a malicious smile. “Go and get a blanket.”

“All right!” said Palmer.

“We’ll toss him in a blanket. He won’t look so sulky after we get through with him.”

There were two or three other boys standing by, who heard these words.

“It’s a shame!” said one, in a low voice. “See the poor little chap, how sad he looks! I felt just as he does when I first came to school.”

“Jim ought not to do it,” said the second. “It’s a mean thing to do.”

“Tell him so.”

“No, thank you. He’d treat me the same way.”

The two speakers were among the smaller boys, neither being over fourteen, and though they sympathized with Tommy, their sympathy was not likely to do him any good.

Out came Palmer with the blanket.

“Are there any teachers about?” asked Jim.

“No.”

“That’s good. We shan’t be interfered with. Here, young one, come here.”

“What for?” asked Tommy, looking frightened.

“Come here, and you’ll find out.”

But Tommy had already guessed. He had read a story of English school life, in which a boy had been tossed in a blanket, and he was not slow in comprehending the situation.

“Oh, don’t toss me in a blanket!” said the poor boy, clasping his hands.

“Sorry to disturb you, but it’s got to be done, young one,” said Jim. “Here, jump in. It’ll do you good.”

“Oh, don’t!” sobbed the poor boy. “It’ll hurt me.”

“No, it won’t! Don’t be a cry baby. We’ll make a man of you.”

But Tommy was not persuaded. He jumped up, and tried to make his escape. But, of course, there was no chance for him. Jim Smith overtook him in a couple of strides, and seizing him roughly by the collar, dragged him to the blanket, which by this time Palmer and one of the other boys, who had been impressed into the service reluctantly, were holding.

Jim Smith, taking up Tommy bodily, threw him into the blanket, and then seizing one end, gave it a violent toss. Up went the boy into the air, and tumbling back again into the blanket was raised again.

“Raise him, boys!” shouted Jim. “Give him a hoist!”

Then it was that Tommy screamed, and Hector heard his cry for help.

He came rushing round the corner of the building, and comprehended, at a glance, what was going on.

Naturally his hot indignation was much stirred.

“For shame, you brutes!” he cried. “Stop that!”

If there was anyone whom Jim Smith did not want to see at this moment, it was Hector Roscoe. He would much rather have seen one of the ushers. He saw that he was in a scrape, but his pride would not allow him to back out.

“Keep on, boys!” he cried. “It’s none of Roscoe’s business. He’d better clear out, or we’ll toss him.”

As he spoke he gave another toss.

“Save me, Hector!” cried Tommy, espying his friend’s arrival with joy.

Hector was not the boy to let such an appeal go unheeded. He sprang forward, dealt Jim Smith a powerful blow, that made him stagger, and let go the blanket, and then helped Tommy to his feet.

“Run into the house. Tommy!” he said. “There may be some rough work here.”

He faced round just in time to fend off partially a blow from the angry bully.

“Take that for your impudence!” shouted Jim Smith. “I’ll teach you to meddle with, me.”

But Jim reckoned without his host. The blow was returned with interest, and, in the heat of his indignation, Hector followed it up with such a volley that the bully retreated in discomfiture, and was glad to withdraw from the contest.

“I’ll pay you for this, you scoundrel!” he said, venomously.

“Whenever you please, you big brute!” returned Hector, contemptuously. “It is just like you to tease small boys. If you annoy Tommy Cooper again, you’ll hear from me.”

“I’d like to choke that fellow!” muttered Jim. “Either he or I will have to leave this school.”

CHAPTER XVII. JIM SMITH’S REVENGE

It would be natural to suppose that Jim Smith, relying upon his influence with his uncle, would have reported this last “outrage,” as he chose to consider it, to the principal, thus securing the punishment of Hector. But he was crafty, and considered that no punishment Hector was likely to receive would satisfy him. Corporal punishment for taking the part of an ill-used boy, Hector was probably too spirited to submit to, and, under these circumstances, it would hardly have been inflicted. Besides, Jim was aware that the offense for which Hector had attacked him was not likely, if made known, to secure sympathy. Even his uncle would be against him, for he was fond of money, and had no wish to lose the new pupil, whose friends were well able to pay for him.

No! He decided that what he wanted was to bring Hector into disgrace. The method did not immediately occur to him, but after a while he saw his way clear.

His uncle’s bedchamber was on the second floor, and Jim’s directly over it on the third story. Some of the other boys, including Hector, had rooms also on the third floor.