Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale

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Billy Bunter’s Benefit By Frank Richards However, all was clear: and Coker gained the roof, and emerged into a drizzle of rain. There he looked round for the chimney of the Rag. He was in the midst of almost a wilderness of chimneys. He had to be careful not to make a mistake. For a good ten minutes, Coker scanned his surroundings, and surveyed and calculated, till he was satisfied at last. Then Coker got going. His bundle was unwrapped. He selected one of the objects it contained, and with a steady hand, dropped it down a round red chimney-pot. Those bombs were not, of course, of a dangerous variety. They were simply planned to emit a smoky vapour and a dreadful smell when they got into action. Mischievous little boys played tricks with such things. It did not occur to Coker that he was playing the part of a mischievous little boy! One after another, his supply of stink-bombs rattled down the chimney. It was the work of hardly a couple of minutes. Coker grinned—an expansive grin—at the mental picture of what must already be happening in the crowded room where the awful effluvia of those stink-bombs was spreading from an empty fire-place. But he did not linger. Prudence indicated prompt departure when his deadly work was done! Coker plunged through the trap, closed it after him, slid down the ladder, and scuttled down the stairs. At the foot of the staircase he found Potter and Greene. They gazed at him in dumb inquiry. “Coming out?” asked Coker, cheerily. “Let’s run out the jiggers—who cares for a spot of rain?” “You—you—you’ve done it?” articulated Potter. “Didn’t I say I would?” “Oh, crikey!” said Greene. “Come on,” said Coker, brightly. They followed him out. CHAPTER XXXIX - MEETING ADJOURNED! “Bleiss my soul!” said Dr. Locke. Mr. Prout coughed. Mr. Quelch suppressed a sniff. Mr. Hacker compressed his lips. Mr. Wiggins blew his nose. Mr. Lascelles rose to his feet, glancing round him with a puzzled expression. Monsieur Charpentier murmured “Mon Dieu!” Page 150 of 161
Billy Bunter’s Benefit By Frank Richards Mr. Capper gasped. Mr. Twigg seemed to choke. All these unusual manifestations came at the same time—most unusual indeed, at a Masters’ Meeting, presided over by the head-master in person. But the circumstances were unusual. Many a masters’ meeting had been held at Greyfriars School: and if the proceedings were, as Coker had declared, characterised by “jaw, jaw, jaw,” nevertheless they were always conducted with decorum, if not solemnity. On the present occasion, for the first time in history, decorum was difficult to observe, and solemnity was absolutely out of the question. How could even a Masters’ Meeting remain either decorous or solemn, with a queer vapour beginning to float in the air, and a strange, horrid, noxious smell penetrating every corner of the room? At a Masters’ Meeting at Greyfriars, the head-master sat at the head of the long oval mahogany table in Common-Room. Along either side of the same sat the form-masters. Other masters of lesser account sat around, anywhere they liked. Polished courtesy from the Head, polite respect from the staff, distinguished the proceedings. Items on the agenda were taken in dignified succession. That was as it should be—but for once things were not as they should have been. Something was amiss! From the great fireplace, empty save for a bowl of flowers, a sort of smoky vapour stole forth. The assembled beaks did not notice that for the moment. What they noticed was the smell. Prout got the first real whiff, and coughed. He coughed again. Then he spluttered But they all got some of it. It was amazing-disconcertingupsetting-unaccountable! But there it was! “The drains!” muttered Mr. Hacker. “I have never noticed anything of the kind before,” breathed Mr. Wiggins. “But—but—dear me!” Dr. Locke had been sneaking. But having ejaculated, quite suddenly, “Bless my soul!” he ceased to speak. He seemed deeply perturbed. Mr. Quelch sniffed. He had suppressed the first sniff: but the second escaped him. Dr. Locke glanced at him. “Do you notice—?” he asked. “Indeed, I do, sir,” answered Mr. Quelch. “It is very strange—very odd, indeed—but—but something—.” “Extraordinary!” said Mr. Prout. He spluttered. “I may say—grooogh! — ooogh! —woogh! —unparalleled.” “An extraordinary scent—.” said Mr. Twigg. Page 151 of 161
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Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale

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