Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale

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Billy Bunter’s Benefit By Frank Richards “I haven’t seen you swotting over it.” “Eh? Oh! No! I don’t need to swot, like you do, Peter.” Bunter tapped a podgy forehead. “Brains, you know! That’s what does it.” “Oh, my hat!” “Ha, ha, ha!” “You can cackle,” said Bunter, disdainfully. “Wait till Quelch dishes out the prize tomorrow! You’re not in it, Peter! Nor you, Linley! You couldn’t do a paper as good as mine in a dozen lifetimes.” “Thanks,” said Mark, with a chuckle. “Well, I asked a fellow who knows, and he said so!” snorted Bunter. “That prize is as good as in my trousers pocket. Quelch is going through the papers now, and I don’t fancy he’ll bother much about the rest after seeing mine. So yah!” Billy Bunter rolled to an armchair, and deposited his fat person therein. Evidently Bunter’s confidence was complete, and he regarded the Latin prize as being as good as in his trousers pocket. The trifling circumstance that the paper was not his own did not weigh on Bunter’s mind. Indeed, he had almost forgotten that trifling circumstance by this time. Quelch couldn’t know that it was Wharton’s paper, so that was all right! That it was not Wharton’s paper, but had been written two thousand years ago by P. Vergilius Maro, Bunter was as yet happily unaware. That was a discovery he had yet to make! There was a step in the passage. An angular figure appeared in the doorway of the Rag. Mr. Quelch looked in. The buzz of voices and laughter died away. All the juniors in the Rag looked at Mr. Quelch, and there was sudden silence. Quelch’s face, often expressive, was extremely expressive now. His brows were knitted in a frown that could only be described as terrific. Under his knitted brows his gimlet-eyes glinted. They fairly flashed over the startled crowd in the Rag. The juniors waited for the thunder to roll! Evidently something had happened to rouse Quelch’s deepest ire. They noticed that he had a paper in his hand, and a cane under his arm. That cane, evidently, had been brought there for use. They could only wonder who was going to be the happy victim. For a moment, Mr. Quelch surveyed the Rag in a dead silence. Then he spoke. “Is Bunter here?” Which was a relief to every fellow except Billy Bunter, Page 108 of 161
Billy Bunter’s Benefit By Frank Richards CHAPTER XXVIII NOT BUNTER’S! “BUNTER!” “Oh! Yes, sir!” Billy Bunter rose from the armchair. He fixed his eyes, and his spectacles, uneasily, on Quelch’s speaking countenance. That Quelch was in a “bait” even the Owl of the Remove could see. Why, he did not know. But there were too many sins on the fat Owl’s conscience for him to feel easy in his mind when Quelch looked like that! Mr. Quelch came into the Rag. His gimlet-eyes fixed on Bunter. Never had they looked so much like gimlets. They seemed almost to bore into Bunter. The other fellows looked on in silence, wondering what Bunter had done this time—and not envying him. “Bunter!” repeated Mr. Quelch. “It—it wasn’t me, sir—!” stammered Bunter. “What? What do you mean, Bunter? What was not you?” rapped Mr. Quelch. “Oh! Anything, sir,” gasped Bunter. “If—if it’s about a cake——“ “A cake!” repeated Mr. Quelch, blankly. “Yes, sir! I mean, no sir! It wasn’t me! I haven’t been anywhere near Coker’s study, and if he says—.” “Bunter! You handed in this paper to my study.” Quelch, with the forefinger of his right hand, tapped the paper in his left. “This, Bunter, is the Latin paper you brought to my study a quarter of an hour ago. I have just examined it. I was amazed.” “Oh!” gasped Bunter. He realised that Quelch’s visit to the Rag had no connection with a cake! It was something to do with Bunter’s paper for the Latin prize. The fat Owl felt an inward tremor. The paper was good—Stewart of the Shell had told him so, and Stewart knew. Had Quelch’s suspicions been aroused by that circumstance? Did he suspect that it wasn’t Bunter’s own paper? It had not occurred to Billy Bunter’s fat brain that there was anything particularly reprehensible in palming off another fellow’s paper as his own. He had given that aspect of the matter no thought at all. A fellow couldn’t think of everything, and Bunter had left that item out of consideration. Wharton, having withdrawn, had no use for a Latin paper. Bunter, badly in Page 109 of 161
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