Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale
Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale
Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale
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<strong>Billy</strong> Bunter’s <strong>Benefit</strong><br />
<strong>By</strong> <strong>Frank</strong> <strong>Richards</strong><br />
nephew at school. Not to make the most of such an uncle seemed, to <strong>Billy</strong><br />
Bunter, a sheer waste.<br />
“I say, Harry, old fellow,” began the fat Owl, after giving the captain of<br />
the Remove a few minutes to calm down.<br />
‘‘Get out!”<br />
“I’m in an awful scrape, old chap,” said Bunter pathetically. “I—I wish now<br />
that I’d taken your advice, and—never worked that fat accomplice at all. I<br />
am really.”<br />
“You benighted owl!”<br />
“You might help a fellow out, after all I’ve done for you,” said Bunter.<br />
“Look what I did for you when you first came to the school. Don’t you<br />
remember your first day here?”<br />
“Yes—I remember you borrowed half-a-crown.”<br />
“Beast! I mean, do help a chap out, Wharton, when he’s in an awful<br />
scrape,” urged Bunter, “That bike’s got to be paid for somehow. You can<br />
see that! Look here, you needn’t crash your old jigger, if you don’t want<br />
to. Just tell your uncle you’ve smashed it, see?”<br />
“What?” gasped Wharton.<br />
“That would do just as well, really,” Bunter pointed out. “The old josser<br />
wouldn’t want to see the wreck. Just tell him you’ve crashed it, and that<br />
you’ve a chance of getting a new jigger, splendid value, for seven guineas.<br />
Don’t you think he’d play up?”<br />
Harry Wharton laid down his pen again.<br />
Bunter eyed him hopefully.<br />
“Quelch would let you use his phone,” he said. “You could tell him your<br />
uncle’s ill, or something, see? Then you ring him up and tell him about the<br />
bike,”<br />
Wharton rose to his feet.<br />
“That’s right, old chap,” said Bunter, in great relief. “You’re going to help<br />
me out”<br />
“Yes, I’m going to help you out,” answered Harry, coming across to the<br />
door.<br />
“Good! Come on,” said Bunter briskly. “No good losing time about it—I<br />
don’t know what Parker may do next. Come on—here—I say—gone mad?<br />
Wharrer you grabbing me for, you beast? What do you think you’re up<br />
to?” yelled Bunter.<br />
“Helping you out,” answered Harry.<br />
And he helped Bunter out. It was not what Bunter wanted, but it was<br />
what he got. With a grasp on a fat neck, the captain of the Remove<br />
twirled <strong>Billy</strong> Bunter through the doorway, and fairly hurled him into the<br />
passage.<br />
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