Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale

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Billy Bunter’s Benefit By Frank Richards “I say, Mauly, old chap, will you lend me—!” “How much?” said Mauly. slipping his hand into his trousers pocket. “Seven guineas—.” Lord Mauleverer jumped. “Wha-a-a-t!” he ejaculated. “Seven guineas, old chap. You see—I say, Mauly! Look here—,” But Lord Mauleverer was gone. “Beast!” groaned Bunter. He rolled out into the quad There he blinked—not hopefully—at Herbert Vernon-Smith. Smithy had tons of money—he was well known to have fivers in his wallet sometimes. The Bounder could have parted with seven guineas—if so disposed. But it was unlikely that he would be so disposed. Really, it was a lot to ask! Even Bunter realised that. However, the fat Owl rolled up to him. He received a black look as he did so. Even yet the Bounder was feeling some twinges from that crash on Redclyffe Hill, which, justly or unjustly, he attributed to Bunter. The fat Owl was not “persona grata” in that quarter. “I say, Smithy—!” bleated Bunter. “Roll away, fathead,” was the polite reply. “But I say, old chap, I’m sorry about your bike. You haven’t got a bike to ride now,” said Bunter,. “All your fault, you fat ditherer,” snapped Smithy, “Get out.” “What I mean is, I’ve got a new bike, and I—I’ll lend it to you whenever you like, old fellow.” Vernon-Smith stared at him. He was surprised by that generous offer. He had no idea of accepting it: Billy Bunter was not a fellow to whom he cared to be under an obligation. But he looked a little less black. “You’ll want a bike, if you’re going up to Hawkscliff with Redwing on Wednesday,” went on Bunter. “I happened to hear you mention it, old chap. Well, take mine.” Smithy looked still less black. He did want a bike on Wednesday afternoon, and he hated the idea of asking any fellow to lend him one. And here was Bunter, fairly pushing one at him—a new bike, too. “If you mean that, Bunter—,” he said. “Of course I do, old fellow! I’ll be jolly glad,” said Bunter, “Take my new bike on Wednesday. Use it just as if it were your own, old boy. And I—I say, Smithy, I’m in a bit of a difficulty at the moment.” The Bounder burst into a laugh. He thought he saw, “Cough it up,” he said. “You’ll lend me your bike, if I lend you five bob. Is that it? Well, it’s a go—all right.” “Nunno! Not at all! I—I don’t mean that—,” stammered Bunter. “I—I don’t Page 40 of 161
Billy Bunter’s Benefit By Frank Richards want you to lend me five bob, Smithy. I—I want you to lend me seven guineas—.” “What!” yelled the Bounder. “You—you see, I expected the pater to pay for the bike, and he hasn’t, and—and Parker’s want to be paid, so—so—if you’ll lend me the seven guineas—.” “You blithering owl!” Vernon-Smith stalked away. It had been a very faint hope. Now it had dissolved into thin air. Billy Bunter, as a rule, haunted the tuck-shop in break, If he had any money, he “blued” the same on edibles. If he hadn’t, he attached himself to fellows who had. But on this particular Monday morning Bunter forgot even the tuck-shop. It was “Black Monday” for Bunter. He had a new bike—that was all right, so far as it went. And he had a bill for seven guineas—which was far from all right. Parker’s, no doubt, would wait a few days—at least a day or two—but their terms, so plainly stated on their bill, were cash! Neither the twopence in Bunter’s pocket, nor the postalorders he was expecting, would satisfy Mr. Parker. Mr. Parker required the sum of seven guineas for goods delivered, and if Mr. Parker did not receive the sum of seven guineas, trouble was indicated. How Billy Bunter was going to meet that trouble, he had not, so far, the faintest idea. On that subject his mind was a perfect blank, He found no solution during break: and when the bell rang for third school, it was a doleful and dismal Owl that rolled into the Reform form-room— and if Mr. Quelch, in these troublous circumstances, expected Billy Bunter to give any attention to lessons, Mr. Quelch was disappointed. From the bottom of his fat heart, Billy Bunter repented him of that bright idea of getting a new bike by facing his respected pater with a “fait accompli.” But repentance, as it usually does, came too late, It was the blackest of Black Mondays for the unhappy Owl of the Remove. CHAPTER XI BIKE FOR SALE “TODDY, old chap.” “Prep!” said Toddy. “Oh, don’t be a silly ass, Toddy. I’ve got something more important than prep to think about,” exclaimed Billy Bunter, exasperated. “I haven’t,” answered Toddy. “Look here, Toddy—.” Page 41 of 161
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