Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale

Billy Bunter’s Benefit
By Frank Richards
chum. Redwing pressed his arm as they went into the quad. All the more
because Smithy was generally hard and unfeeling, Redwing liked to see
those occasional glimpses of a generous heart. The Bounder grinned.
“Surprised you, Reddy?” he asked.
“Well, no,” said Redwing. “It’s really like you, Smithy.”
“I wanted a bike this afternoon.”
“That isn’t why you did it. It’s rather a big sum, even for you. You don’t
want a second bike; when your Moonbeam comes back—you’ll get rid of it
for about half what you gave. You’ve done it to get that fathead out of
his scrape. Don’t humbug about it.”
The Bounder laughed, and left it at that. They went down to the bikeshed,
Redwing for his machine, and Smithy for Bunter’s new bike—now his
own. Tom Redwing’s face was bright as they pedalled away. Many fellows
in the Remove wondered what Redwing could see to like in the hard, curt,
cynical Bounder. But he did like him, and never so much as that afternoon.
And Smithy, though very much inclined to sneer at himself for having
been a fool, was, on the whole, satisfied with what he had done. So it was
quite a cheery pair that cycled away on the hilly road to Hawkscliff—what
time Billy Bunter was rolling off to Courtfield on the bus, looking quite a
new Bunter.
CHAPTER XV
JUST LIKE BUNTER!
“HALLO, hallo, hallo!”
“Bunter!”
“What on earth is he up to?”
Harry Wharton and Co. gazed at a fat figure in Courtfield High Street.
The Famous Five were cycling that afternoon. They had stopped at the
bun-shop in Courtfield for a little light refreshment on the way. Five
bicycles were stacked against the ancient tree that grew outside the
bun-shop, under whose branches were little tables, round one of which
the chums of the Remove sat in a cheery circle, discussing ginger-pop.
Next to the bun-shop was the Bank: and opposite the Bank was the bus
stop. So the juniors at the little table under the tree had a view of the
bus when it came in, and of the passengers alighting from it. Among the
alighting passengers was one they knew.
There was nothing surprising in Billy Bunter coming into Courtfield on a
bus, on a half-holiday. But his subsequent proceedings, after alighting
from the bus, were rather surprising.
First of all, Billy Bunter cast a blink through his big spectacles towards
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