Indeed he could hardly have failed to hear Coker's bawl. Coker had done it, now! His plump face was purple. Potter and Greene stood in silent dismay. The fat was in the fire now, that was clear. As a rule, Prout could be heard coming: his elephantine tread was generally very audible. But with three fellows all shouting together in. They had not, of course, expected Prout to come up why should he? But he had come: and Coker's roar had greeted his plump ears as he came. He could not have come at a more unfortunate moment for Horace Coker.
I heard you apply ananan epithet to meyour form-master! I came here, Coker, to inquire why a large parcel, addressed to you, is hidden in the ivy behind the stone seat in the Cloisters. That is why I came here, Coker. It was unexpected news of the missing parcel. Coker was glad to get news of it, so far as that went.
But he did wish that Prout had not brought the news at that precise moment! Coker gave a reminiscent wriggle. He was still feeling twinges of that 'six' in the form-room. Was another six coming? But it was not as bad as that. I shall not do so, Coker. Locke to send you away from the school, as a boy who is beyond me. But I hesitate to take such extreme measures, Coker. I warn you that this may come, if you try my patience further.
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For the present, I shall give you a book. You will write out the whole of the First Book of Aeneid, Coker. With that, and a last petrifying glance at Coker, Mr. Prout revolved in the doorway, and elephantined away.
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He left Coker overwhelmed. A book!
If Prout thinks I'm going to write out a dashed book. It's jolly decent of old Pompous,' hooted Potter. Quelch would. He's given me a book!
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Why, III. Really, it was rather overwhelming. Seldom, or never, was such an imposition handed out at Greyfriars. But seldom, or never, did a form-master hear himself described as an old ass by a member of his form. Coker seemed almost dazed by Prout's sentence. Potter and Greene.
They knew now where to. And after al, it was tea-time: whether Coker had a 'book' to write or not.
Billy Bunter (Charles Skilton; Cassell; Armada; etc.) - Book Series List
A whole book of the Aeneid! Aaa book! If I do a book for Prout, I'll jolly well give him something else too!
I'll make him cringe! Potter and Greene made a movement doorward.
No doubt they sympathized with Coker: the hapless recipient of a whole book of the Aeneid. Still, there was the parcel, and it was tea-time. Potter and Greene sidled out of the study. Coker, however, followed them. If his parcel, as Prout had said, was hidden in the ivy over the old seat in the Cloisters, Coker wanted to recover it: though it weighed little in the balance against a whole book of the Aeneid.
He followed Potter and Greene down the stairs, and they went out of the House. As they walked away to the old Cloisters, Horace Coker's voice ran on like an unending melody: all on the subject of Prout and that book. Potter and Greene bore it with fortitude: there was 'the parcel to come, as a consolation. But was there? They reached that old stone seat in the Cloisters. They found the clustering ivy behind it looking disturbed and disarranged, as if it had recently been dragged about. But they did not find a parcel. Aunt Judy's parcel was no more visible there, than it had been in Coker's study.
Prout had seen it there: there could be no doubt about that.
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But it was not there now! As a matter of fact, it was a quarter of a mile away, under Billy Bunter's fat arm. A moment before, the fat face of the Owl of the Remove had been irradiated by a grin of happy anticipation. He was rolling cheerily along the shady footpath in Friardale Wood, blinking round him through his big spectacles, for a comfortable spot where he could sit down and revel in tuck. Danger, he had no doubt, had been left behind him: whether from Coker of the Fifth, or Harry Wharton and Co. That other dangers might lurk ahead of him, did not cross Billy Bunter's fat mind for a moment.
But, as a matter of fact, there was danger ahead for Bunter, little as he dreamed of it. From the thickets beside the footpath, a figure suddenly emerged, and a rough voice rapped out to him "old on'. The figure was that of a thickset man with a pug nose and a blue chin, anda startling sight to Bunter-a red-spotted muffler drawn across his face.
Series: Billy Bunter
Why a man wore a muffler across his face, instead of round his neck, was a puzzle to Bunter, for the moment. Over that muffler showed a pair of beetling brows, and a pair of sharp little piggy eyes, that glinted at the fat junior. The muffled man raised a hand, much in need of soap and water, as a sign to Bunter to halt. Billy Bunter halted, blinking at him in surprise and uneasiness.
Bunter did not like the look of the muffled man at all. He remembered that the races were on at Wapshot, a few miles from Greyfriars: and that the races always brought a crowd of rough characters to the neighbourhood. On such occasions the local inhabitants often had spots of bother, in the shape of 'rows' in the 'pubs', and sometimes petty pilfering, such as chickens missing from the yard, or even washing from the line.
Bunter could guess that the man who had so suddenly and unexpectedly appeared from the thickets, was one of the 'roughs' attracted to the vicinity by the 'sport of kings'. And he recalled, with a sudden spasm of dread, that there had sometimes been footpads about, when the race-gangs were at Wapshot. He backed away hurriedly. II'm in rather a hurry. Now he wished that the spot was not quite so quiet, secluded, and remote! If this man was a footpad, there was no help anywhere at hand for the fat Owl.
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