Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale

Billy Bunter’s Benefit
By Frank Richards
the tea-room there.”
Coker laughed.
“They wouldn’t have them in the tea-room,” he said.
“Why?”
Potter and Greene exchanged a glance across Coker. They had taken it
for granted that Coker was going to Chunkley’s to tea. What else was a
fellow to think? Now it suddenly occurred to them that possibly Coker’s
business at Chunkley’s was in some other department, and that tea was
not featured in the programme at all! And they had already walked a mile!
“Well, dash it all, they’d hardly stock stink-bombs in the tea-room.” Coker
laughed at the idea.
“Stink-bombs!” repeated Potter and Greene, blankly.
“That’s what I’m going for,” said Coker.
They could only blink at him. Coker was, as they knew, every kind of an
ass. But that even Coker could be ass enough to play about with stinkbombs,
they would never have guessed. There were naughty fags at
Greyfriars who thought it funny to play tricks with such horrid things.
But Coker, after all, was in the Fifth, ass as he was. Was it possible—?
“I—I say—,” Potter stammered. “What—what’s the big idea?”
“I’ve thought it out, you know, about those cheeky Remove fags,”
explained Coker. “I’d have told you fellows before if you hadn’t been in
the sulks. You know that fag gang are keeping on with ‘Hamlet’—.”
Potter and Greene groaned inwardly. They had indulged a hope that they
had heard the last of that. Evidently, they hadn’t.
“Of course, I’m not allowing it, went on Coker. “They’re carrying on, just
as if I hadn’t spoken a word on the subject. Well, I’ve a short way with
fags, as they will find.”
“But—!” stuttered Greene.
“I’ve got it all cut and dried,” said Coker, complacently. “They’ve fixed the
date of the performance—next week, in the Rag. Well, let ‘em get on with
it. I fancy they won’t get very far—not much further than the Ghost, I
fancy.” Coker chuckled. “As soon as the curtain goes up, the stink-bombs
come down.”
“Wha-a-t?”
“Easy as falling off a form,” said Coker. “All it needed was brains, to think
it out. Well, I’ve got brains.”
Potter and Greene did not venture to express their strong doubts of that
statement. They only stared at Coker.
“You know that trap-door in the roof, over the dormitory passage,” went
on Coker. “It’s for use in case of fire—ladder all handy, too. Easy as
winking to get out on the roof there, what?”
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