Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale

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Billy Bunter’s Benefit By Frank Richards the bun-shop. He did not observe the five juniors sitting under the shady tree, or take any heed of other customers sitting at the little tables. He was not interested in any of them. Having blinked at the open doorway of the bun-shop, Bunter made two or three steps in that direction, as if drawn by some hidden irresistible force. Then he halted. For some moments he stood undecided, and then turned and rolled up the High Street. At some little distance from the bun-shop, a projecting sign could be seen, bearing the name “PARKER’S.” Bunter seemed to be bound for Parker’s. But he halted again and once more turned. It seemed that the bun-stop drew him by invisible strings. He came rolling back. Having almost reached the bun-shop, once more he stopped, and slowly, very slowly, retraced his steps up the High Street in the direction of Parker’s. But he went very slowly, with lagging footsteps. More and more slowly he went. Harry Wharton and Co. watched these antics in growing surprise. What Billy Bunter was up to was a mystery to them. It seemed as if the fat Owl was torn two ways—Parker’s attracting him on the one hand, the bun-shop on the other. His fat mind fluctuated between the two. “He’s coming here,” said Nugent. “He’s going to Parker’s,” said Bob. “He doesn’t seem to be able to make up his mind,” remarked Harry Wharton. “What on earth’s the matter with him?” “Halo, hallo, hallo, he’s revolving again.” Bunter had nearly reached Parker’s. Almost at the door of that establishment, he turned, and came rolling back again. This time he seemed to have made up his fat mind. He neither halted nor turned again, but came straight on, and sat down at one of the little tables, his plump back to the Famous Five, and still without observing them. “That’s that!” grinned Bob. “He’s landed at last.” Bunter was landed—but he did not seem quite safely landed. Having sat for about a minute, he half-rose, as if intending to depart without waiting for the waitress to take his order. However, he sat down again, and this time he stayed put. A waitress came, and his table was soon covered with sticky things. It was quite a puzzle to Harry Wharton and Co. If Bunter was in funds, as he appeared to be, it was quite natural for him to visit the Courtfield bun-shop, where prices were high but the provender good. But why he had wandered to and fro between the bun-shop and Parker’s turning and Page 58 of 161
Billy Bunter’s Benefit By Frank Richards turning and turning again, was quite puzzling. Had the Famous Five been aware of what had happened in the Rag that afternoon, they would have solved the puzzle. But they had left the school on their bikes before that, and knew nothing of Smithy’s unexpected action, or the fact that Billy Bunter had succeeded, at last, in getting rid of that troublesome jigger. So they did not know that the handsome sum of seven pounds seven shillings was burning a hole in Bunter’s pocket. It was rather unfortunate that the bus stop was opposite the bun-shop. But for that unfortunate circumstance, the fat Owl might have rolled on to Mr. Parker’s, and all would have been well. Bunter had left the school with that fixed intention. All he was thinking of—until he got off the bus—was settling his account with Mr. Parker, and getting out of his awful scrape. It was the sight of the bun-shop, and of people sitting at the little tables eating and drinking, that had put new ideas into Bunter’s fat head, and unsettled his resolve. With pounds in his pocket, and unlimited quantities of sticky things to be had for the same, it was no wonder that Bunter hesitated. Yet he had struggled with temptation. Twice he had heroically headed for Parker’s, putting temptation behind him. But it is well said that he who hesitates is lost. The call of the bun-shop had proved irresistible. So there was Bunter, sitting at a table fairly loaded with sticky things, and scoffing the same at a great rate, regardless of consequences, his fat face irradiating happy satisfaction. When Billy Bunter was eating he forgot lesser matters. Mr. Parker, and Mr. Parker’s little bill, were relegated to the back of his fat mind. For the moment, Bunter revelled in foodstuffs, and enjoyed life. Harry Wharton and Co., not being in possession of any such sum as seven guineas among the whole Co., were content with a ginger-pop and a bun. Not so Bunter! Perhaps, on the principle that one might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, he gave orders royally. Jam sponges at the bun-shop, were priced at half-a-crown each. Bunter travelled through three or four with hardly a pause. Other delectable things, at equally delectable prices, followed fast. Bunter did not bother about such commonplace things as twopenny buns. Only the best, it seemed, was good enough for Bunter. And his appetite for sticky things was practically unlimited. The Co., from their table, watched him in wonder. Only that morning, Bunter had been seeking to borrow a “bob” up and Page 59 of 161
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