gasped Bunter. “N-n-n-n-no—yes, sir!” “Tonight?” Yes, gasped the fat Owl. He would have made the same answer had “Oh! sir!” the enquirer named any other night. Luckily for Bunter, Mr. Smedley was not aware of that. are certain of this, “You Bunter?” Quite! Absolutely certain, groaned Bunter. course, he—he might “Oh! sir.” “Of change his mind! But—I—I think—I—I mean, I know—--” Bunter! In the circumstances I shall say nothing more about your “Very well, foolish trick in this study.” you, “T-t-thank sir!” you need not do the lines I gave you in class this added Mr. “And morning!” Smedley graciously. good! I—I mean, thank you, gasped Bunter. I go now, “Oh, sir!” “M-a-a-ay sir?” may go, “You Bunter!” Bunter went—gladly! Mr. Smedley, alias Lucius Teggers, turned to the window again and looked into the quad with a cold, hard smile on his face and watched the Bounder strolling with his chum. If his conscience troubled him, he soothed it with the reflection that Herbert Vernon-Smith was an unscrupulous young rascal, who richly deserved to be expelled from the school, and who, indeed, would have been expelled had he not hoodwinked his headmaster. But the conscience, probably, did not require much soothing. plotter’s At all events, the information he had dragged from the wretched Bunter placed the young rascal in his hands! The sneak, for his own sake, would not let it be known that he had given the scapegrace away. The Bounder would leave his dormitory that night, after lights out, and after he was gone—after the man with the borrowed name was quite sure that he had gone— He smiled, a cat-like smile! As he sat looking into the quad he reflected very pleasantly on the prospect, some day, of handling Mr. Samuel Vernon-Smith’s millions! Probably his reflections would not have been so pleasant, had he been able to follow the subsequent proceedings of the Owl of the Remove. THE TWELFTH CHAPTER.
“N-n-n-n-no—yes, sir!” gasped Bunter. “Tonight?” “Oh! Yes, sir!” gasped the fat Owl. He would have made the same answer had the enquirer named any other night. Luckily for Bunter, Mr. Smedley was not aware of that. “You are certain of this, Bunter?” “Oh! Quite! Absolutely certain, sir.” groaned Bunter. “Of course, he—he might change his mind! But—I—I think—I—I mean, I know—--” “Very well, Bunter! In the circumstances I shall say nothing more about your foolish trick in this study.” “T-t-thank you, sir!” “And you need not do the lines I gave you in class this morning!” added Mr. Smedley graciously. “Oh, good! I—I mean, thank you, sir!” gasped Bunter. “M-a-a-ay I go now, sir?” “You may go, Bunter!” Bunter went—gladly! Mr. Smedley, alias Lucius Teggers, turned to the window again and looked into the quad with a cold, hard smile on his face and watched the Bounder strolling with his chum. If his conscience troubled him, he soothed it with the reflection that Herbert Vernon-Smith was an unscrupulous young rascal, who richly deserved to be expelled from the school, and who, indeed, would have been expelled had he not hoodwinked his headmaster. But the plotter’s conscience, probably, did not require much soothing. At all events, the information he had dragged from the wretched Bunter placed the young rascal in his hands! The sneak, for his own sake, would not let it be known that he had given the scapegrace away. The Bounder would leave his dormitory that night, after lights out, and after he was gone—after the man with the borrowed name was quite sure that he had gone— He smiled, a cat-like smile! As he sat looking into the quad he reflected very pleasantly on the prospect, some day, of handling Mr. Samuel Vernon-Smith’s millions! Probably his reflections would not have been so pleasant, had he been able to follow the subsequent proceedings of the Owl of the Remove. THE TWELFTH CHAPTER.