Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale

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Billy Bunter’s Benefit By Frank Richards The identity of “Spanker” was now revealed. “If you had as much sense in your head as I’ve got in my little finger, you’d be twice as clever as you ain’t. Gimme that paper!” Billy Bunter made a snatch at Sporting Snips. Holding the racing paper out of reach with his left hand, Bob gave the fat Owl a gentle push with his right, on the widest part of his circumference. “Urrrrrggghh!” gurgled Bunter. He sat down again suddenly on the settee. “Wurrrrrgh!” Leaving the fat Owl urrghing and wurrghing, Bob Cherry crumpled the racing paper into his pocket, and went down the staircase. There was a frown on his sunny face. Smithy’s shady ways were no concern of his: but when Smithy’s racing papers fell into the hands of an egregious ass like Bunter, it was quite a different matter, “Hallo, hallo, hallo! Seen Smithy?” asked Bob, coming on the Co. at the doorway of the Rag. “Yes, he’s in the Rag,” answered Harry Wharton. “What’s up?” “I’ve got something of his he ought to keep in a safe place. I’m going to shove it down his back.” “Wha-a-t?” Bob Cherry tramped into the Rag, and the Co. followed him, rather startled. Herbert Vernon-Smith, seated in an armchair with one leg crossed over the other, did not heed him. The Bounder had a thoughtful expression on his face —thinking, perhaps, of the chances of Spanker in the two-thirty! But he Page 124 of 161
Billy Bunter’s Benefit By Frank Richards looked up as Bob Cherry came to a halt directly in front of him. “Well?” he snapped. Bob dragged the crumpled newspaper from his pocket, and held it up. The Bounder stared at it, and so did a dozen other fellows. Skinner whistled. “Better not let the pre’s see that, Smithy,” he said. “Yours?” asked Bob. “You silly, cheeky ass!” exclaimed Vernon-Smith, his brow darkening. “What are you doing with that? Do you want all Greyfriars to see it, you chump? What the dickens do you mean by getting it from my study?” “I didn’t,” explained Bob. “A howling ass borrowed it from your study, and if he’d been spotted with it, he would go up to Quelch for a whopping. If you must smuggle muck like this into the school, Smithy, you’d better keep it in a safe place. I’m going to put it in a safe place now.” “You can mind your own business,” snarled Smithy. “I’ve made this my business, old scout! One shady sweep is enough for the Remove—your jolly old example isn’t one for Bunter to follow. Here’s your rubbish.” Bob’s left hand shot out, grabbing the top of the Bounder’s head as he sat in the armchair. That head was forced down suddenly, before Vernon- Smith knew what was happening, leaving a space between his collar and the back of his neck. Into that space, Bob’s hefty right hand shoved the crumpled newspaper, driving it well home. There was an almost frantic yell from Smithy. He heaved madly in the armchair, tore himself loose, and grabbed at the back of his neck. But Sporting Snips was out of his reach. “Good egg!” grinned Johnny Bull. “That’s a safe place for it, Smithy.” “Ha, ha, ha!” Vernon-Smith leaped to his feet, his face flaming. “Hold on, Smithy,” called out Tom Redwing. Unheeding him, the Bounder came at Bob Cherry with clenched fists and blazing eyes. Whereupon the whole Co. collared him right and left, and he smote the floor of the Rag with a resounding bump. And as that did not seem to satisfy the enraged Bounder, they heaved him up, and bumped him again, and yet again. Then, as the bell for class began to clang, they strolled out of the Rag, leaving the Bounder sitting on the floor, gurgling for breath. “I say, you fellows.” A fat junior met the Co. as they came out. “I say, I want that paper! Look here, Bob Cherry, you beast—.” “Ask Smithy for it,” grinned Bob. “Smithy’s got it.” Billy Bunter blinked into the Rag. One blink at the Bounder’s infuriated face was enough for him. He did not ask Smithy for Sporting Snips. Page 125 of 161
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Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale

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