Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale

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Billy Bunter’s Benefit By Frank Richards Peter gazed at him. Peter was one of the Remove fellows from whom the fat Owl had sought to borrow a humble “bob” that day. And here was Bunter, with a sum of money running into pounds. For a moment or two, Peter was astonished. Then he guessed. Peter. “You fat chump! Haven’t you paid Parker after all?” he exclaimed. “I—I was going to, Peter. But—,” “You unspeakable ass,” said Peter. “Didn’t you go to Courtfield?” “Oh! Yes! But—.” “Then why haven’t you paid Parker? Do you want him to go to the Head?” “I—I—-I—-,” stammered Bunter. “I—I haven’t got it quite right, Peter. I—I haven’t enough to pay Parker.” “That’s rot! Smithy gave you the exact amount— seven pounds seven shillings,” answered Peter. “I saw him, and a dozen other fellows saw him. I lent you twopence for the bus. You had only to go straight to Parker’s and pay him.” “Yes. But—.” “Have you lost some of it, or what?” “Oh! Yes!” Bunter jumped at that, like a drowning man at a straw. “I—I— I’ve lost some—there’s a lining in the hole in my pocket—.” “What!” “I mean a hole in the lining in my pocket. I—I had it in—in this pocket, Peter, but—but there is a great big hole in the lining, and—and—it went. Can you lend me twenty-seven and six, Peter?” “You’re twenty-seven and six short!” exclaimed Peter, aghast. “I—I think so. I’m just trying to get it right.” explained Bunter. “Oh, you fathead! You champion chump!” - “Oh, really, Toddy! Tain’t my fault there’s a lining in my jacket—I mean a jacket in my lining—I mean—.” “Didn’t you know there was a hole in your pocket, ass?” “Nunno! I—I’d never noticed it! I—I never knew anything about a hole in this pocket, Peter.” Which was perfectly true. Bunter had known nothing about a hole in the lining of that pocket. There wasn’t one! He sagely decided not to mention the bun-shop to Peter. Peter was not likely to feel very sympathetic if he knew that the missing sum had gone on sponge cakes and jam tarts and other such sticky things. Bunter realised only too clearly that he was in a scrape again, with a shortage of the sum due to Mr. Parker. At the bun-shop he had dismissed such sordid considerations from his fat mind. He had revelled royally in very attractive and very expensive comestibles, hardly realising how his bill was piling up. It had piled up to Page 62 of 161
Billy Bunter’s Benefit By Frank Richards over two pounds. Indeed, it would have piled up to more than that, had there been more space available inside Bunter. It had been a happy experience—Bunter had enjoyed life to the full while the feast lasted. But after the feast came the reckoning. Obviously, it was wiser not to mention the bun-shop to Peter. And truth and Bunter had been strangers so long that they were not likely to strike up an acquaintance at this awkward moment. “Well, how much have you got left?” asked Peter. “These five pound notes,” said Bunter. “That’s five pounds to begin with.” “Right so far,” said Peter, sarcastically. “Did you do that in your head?” “Well, I’m pretty good at arithmetic, you know. Then there’s two halfcrowns and a shilling—thats seven shillings—.” “Six, ass!” “Oh! Um! I mean six! Altogether five pounds six shillings,” said Bunter. Taking that out of seven pounds seven leaves twenty-seven and six, doesn’t it?” “Oh, my hat! Does it?” gasped Peter. “Well, I made it twenty-seven and six,” said Bunter. “If you think that that isn’t right, Peter—.” “The rightfulness isn’t terrific, as Inky would say.” “I’ll do it again, if you like! Only it seems to come different every time I do it,” exclaimed Bunter, “You know how it is with those beastly addition sums—if you add from the bottom, and then from the top, it comes out quite different—.” “Ha, ha, ha!” “I wish you wouldn’t cackle when I’m doing arithmetic, Peter. It puts me out. Look here, take five pounds from seven pounds seven.” Bunter wrinkled his fat brow over that intricate problem. “No, it ain’t twentyseven and six—it’s three pounds four.” “Ha, ha, ha!” yelled Peter. “Blessed if I see anything to cackle at! Think I’ve got it wrong?” “Sort of! Try again,” said Peter, encouragingly. “Well, let’s see—five pounds six from seven pounds seven—that leaves—let’s see—thirty-nine shillings! I’ve got it right this time! I’m thirty-nine shillings short, Peter, and—and I thought it was only twenty-seven and six—.” “Lucky for you you’re not doing this for Quelch,” grinned Peter. “Have another shot at it, old scout.” “Well, I think that’s right. What do you make it, if you think you can do arithmetic better than I can?” demanded Bunter. “Five pounds six from seven pounds seven leaves two pounds one, fathead.” Page 63 of 161
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Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale

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