Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale

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Billy Bunter’s Benefit By Frank Richards expression on his face, already sulky and savage, became positively ferocious as he picked it up. There was a sound of clanking, clinking, rattling, and scraping. Smithy, luckily, had escaped serious damage—but it was clear that the bicycle hadn’t. That handsome Moonbeam bicycle was, in fact, a wreck. The front wheel was so badly bent that it would not revolve at all, the chain was snapped, the mudguards twisted, and one of the pedals almost like a corkscrew. There were a good many other damages—in fact, their name was legion. A few minutes ago that Moonbeam bike had looked worth the twenty guineas Smith’s pater had paid for it. Now it looked hardly worth picking off a scrap-heap. “You won’t be able to ride that, Smithy,” said Johnny Bull. “Fool!” said Smith. “Think I need telling that?” Johnny regarded him thoughtfully. “I won’t punch your head for your cheek, Smithy, as you’ve had such a spill,” he said. “But I’ve had enough of your rotten temper. I’m going on.” Johnny put a leg over his machine, and went on. The other four members of the Co. exchanged glances. Smithy, evidently, was out of that spin. Even had he been personally in a state to carry on, which evidently he was not, his bike could not even be wheeled, let alone ridden. There was nothing for him to do but wait for some obliging carter to give him a lift with the wrecked machine. The Co. were unwilling to leave him there with the wreck, on his own: but they had come out for a spin, and it did not seem very useful to stand about doing nothing. However, if they were dubious about what to do in the painful circumstances, the Bounder settled the matter for them. “I’ve got to wait here for a lift,” he growled. “I must get that crock to the cycle-shop in Courtfield. Cut on.” “Well—!” began Harry Wharton. “For goodness sake, cut on, and don’t jaw!” grunted Vernon-Smith. “Oh, all right.” Four fellows remounted, and pedalled on after Johnny Bull. The Bounder favoured them with a scowl as they went: and dragged his machine to the roadside. There he sat down on a grassy bank, to wait for some Good Samaritan to pass in a vehicle, for a lift into Courtfield. The Famous Five, in a bunch, swept over the crest of Redclyffe Hill, and disappeared—and probably enjoyed that spin none the less for the loss of the Bounder’s company. CHAPTER IV BAD LUCK FOR BUNTER! Page 12 of 161
Billy Bunter’s Benefit By Frank Richards “I SAY, you fellows!” Billy Bunter opened the door of No. 1 Study in the Remove passage as he spoke. The next moment, having blinked into the study through his big spectacles, he ejaculated: “Beasts!” The study was vacant. Harry Wharton and Frank Nugent, to whom it belonged, were still out on their bikes. Which was annoying to Billy Bunter, as it was long past tea-time, and there was an aching void within his extensive circumference. Bunter was tired. Owing to the selfishness of fellows who wanted to use their jiggers themselves, he had not been able to borrow a bike, and had had to walk to Cliff House and back. He was also disgruntled. For on arriving at Cliff House he had found that the expected hamper hadn’t. It had, apparently, been delayed on the railway, and Bunter found nothing at Cliff House to console him but the charming company of his sister Bessie. This very soon palled: and Billy Bunter walked back, tired, peeved, and perspiring, to discover that he was too late for tea in hall. Hence his visit to No. 1 Study in the hope of hospitality, or alternatively, as the lawyers say, in the hope of raising a little loan on a postal-order he was expecting. And there was nobody at home! “Beasts!” repeated Bunter. Bunter was hungry. He had had nothing since dinner excepting some toffee he had found in Ogilvy’s study. and a couple of doughnuts he had discovered in Tom Brown’s study. To Bunter, these were trifles light as air: and since then he had walked to Cliff House and back. Even “doorsteps and dish-water” in hall would have been welcome to the famished Owl—but even these were no longer available. “Beasts!” said Bunter, for the third time. Fellows who were out of gates when Bunter needed their edible or financial resources were clearly beasts, of the most beastly description. However, Bunter rolled into the study. Something might be in the study cupboard, in which case he would not miss the company of Wharton and Nugent—indeed, it might be better, on the whole, that they weren’t there! But it was a day of disappointments for Billy Bunter. The cupboard door was locked. The key was gone. Bunter gazed at the locked door with mixed feelings. “Beasts!” he said, for the fourth time. “Rotten, suspicious beasts! I jolly well believe they’ve got a cake. Locking it up, just as if they fancied it wasn’t safe in their study! Turning the key on it, as if they thought some fellow might be after it! Suspicious beasts! Yah!” Page 13 of 161
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Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale

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