‘LITTLE BOO”

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume LXXXII, Issue 19443, 31 October 1925, Page 24 (Supplement)

‘LITTLE BOO”

CHAPTER 7 (Continued.) A SCHOOL EPISODE Rodney then drifted across to the window again, and examined the deserted play-ground through the peephole. Ho threw open the window, as there was no one now to witness him in his disgrace. Then he tried the strength of the muscles of his arms and wrists on the iron bars across the window. He pulled and pushed, gripping his teeth together, and drawing his breath with a hissing sound. Bit by bit the iron—old and rusted—yielded to Rodney’s strength. He rested, wiping the moisture from his forehead. He was well pleased with his efforts as he stood back a few paces and surveyed the twisted bars. A body could quite easily squeeze between them now A brilliant idea! When “old Brecky” looked for his prisoner—he’d find the bird had flown! No sooner thought than the deed was done, tend Rodney, hatless, was speeding down the quiet play-ground—out of the gate and along the road. He made for the beach, and, borrowing a costume from a boy pal, who had “wagged it” from school and had been in the water all the morning, he went in for a swim.

Half an hour later, Rodney, after all sorts of stunts in the water, emerged rosy and smiling, and proceeded to dress leisurely behind some rocks, where he had hidden his clothes. It was about one o’clock—and the boy grinned from ear to ear as he wondered what the state of “old Brecky’s” mind would be then. He made for home, and, sauntering in, announced to Aunt Roberta that he wtes hungry and wanted some lunch. She was sewing at the machine. She was so surprised at her nephew’s unexpected appearance that she let the needle run all over the material, before she stopped the wheel with a jerk. “I gave you your lunch as usual to take to school,” she said. “What have you done with it?” “Had a row with Mr Breckenridge—and beat it,” he answered evasively. Aunt Roberta stared at him for a few moments without speaknig. “Well, you had better ‘beat it’ back again,’’ she said testily, and turned her back on him, going on with the mtechining. “I say, Aunt, that’s Tough on a chap,” Rodney cried, blusteringly. “Ain’t I getting anything to eat?” “You are not,” returned Aunt Roberta. “Go away at once and don’t bother me,” she ordered. He depart ed without any further argument, was unusual for Rodney. Outside he decided he would call on Mr Maddock. Ho felt sure there would be food offering there. By that time, and after his dip in the sea, his appetite was ravenous —and he had empty pockets! “Hello! What’t the matter with you?” cried Mr Maddock as Rodney entered the smoking room, where he was comfortably seated, enjoying an after-luncheon pipe. “I’m starving!” Rodney blurted out.

“Are you. old man?” Run along to Mrs Morrison, and ask her for a meal. Then come back and tell me all about it.” Rodney stood in the doorway. “You’re a real dinkum sport!” ho said gratefully, his face flushing a dull red.

Afterwards ho told Mr Maddock the whole story.

Mr Maddock puffed away at his pipe silently for perhaps a minute. Then he put his arm about the shoulders of the boy at his side. “Bo a man, Rodney! Go to Mr Breckenridge, explain to him what you have told me—and apologise. I tem sure, he will understand. Then take your punishment like a man.” “He hits pretty hard,” Rodney murmured, squirming in his scat. “That is nothing to the blows the world deals one as life goes on ” Mr Maddock broke off, half closing his eves.

Even Rodney’s boyish eyes saw the pain that had crept into his face.

Suddenly ho sat up. grasping the boy’s arm tightlyi “Blows that kill a man’s soul!” he cried fiercely. “Gee!” steid Rodnev feebly. **‘ * *

It was a strangely subdued Rodney who sat down to dinner that evening. He subsequently surprised Aunt Roberta by offering to wash tho dishes for her. and his sisters could not understand his evident sudden affection for them. As for John, he was paralysed when Rodney pressed him to accept a pocket-knife—his most treasured possession. CHAPTER VIIL THE GHOST. “Girls, would you like to see a ghost?” Rodney enquired, matter of fact, as if, indeed, he asked an ordinary question, such as “Would you like a piece of cake?” The five children happened to be together on the verandah just before tea. Aunt Roberta was in the kitchen, preparing that meal. She would presently call to Maud or to Joan to come in and set the table. At Rdqpey’s question, Maud looked up from tho magazine she was reading, and Little 800 and Joan left off playing with their dolls. “Don’t be silly, Rodney! There are no ghosts nowadays,” Maud chided, with a grown-up air.

“Aren’t there, Miss Know-all? Well, what about Sir Conan Doyle’s stunts? And didn’t you read in the paper the other week where What’s-His-Name—the well-known journalist who died recently— is sprinting round in the spirit?” “But spirits arc different to ghosts. Now, aren’t they?” Maud’s question was not directly addressed to anyone, but Joan took it upon herself to reply hastily—“Of course they are! ’ ’ Poor Joan was of a timid disposition, and it needed ingenuity on her part to hide succ<.-.fully this fact from her twin and the other members of the family. The child shivered inwardly

at the very idea of seeing a ghost, but she shrank from tho scorn and contempt that would be showered upon her if she showed the slightest sign of alarm at the prospect. H’ei* heart sank into her small sandals when Little 800 chirped—“P’r’aps it would be fun to see a ghost! ” She screwed up her eyes as if in doubt. “Well—l dunno,” she said slowly, and then added in a burst—- “ But I don’t believe you know where there is one. Rod?”

“Don’t I, Johnnie?” was Rodney’s prompt reply to this challenge.

The younger boy, thus appealed to, left off paring a stick with the knife his brother had given him, and said — “Yes—we both do. Last night ”

“We were on the rocks fishing,” Rodney cut in, not caring about having his position as chairman of the meeting jumped in that fashion, “when, all at once, we saw a ghost!! He purposely sank his voice to a hoarse whisper.

Little Boo’s eyes widened, and Joan could not suppress a slight shiver.

“What are you talking about? Why, you were both in bed by nine o’clock last night,” Maud cried. Rodney looked about cautiously. The “enemy” was not in sight, so he explained in a loud whisper—“ But we got up when you were all asleep and went fishing.” He tapped his lips with a forefinger that was stained with ink. “Mum’s the word or I’ll—.” He did not voice the threat, but tried to appear as diabolical as it was possible for a human boy to look.

“So that is why you two are sometimes so sleepy during the day,” and Maud nodded her head like an old grandmother. “What did the ghost do —an’ wbat did it say?” Little 800 enquired in a businesslike way.

“Of course, you’d have to ask a wise thing like that, Miss Muffet! ” 800 should have withered before her brother’s sarcasm —but she only wrinkled up her nose, and looked crosseyed at him.

“It wasn’t a plain, common sort of ghost, but like a white light. It came out of the cliff—high up—and moved about over the water,” John said at top speed, in an endeavour to get in a few words before Rodney again took the floor.

At this amazing information, the three girls could only gasp feebly. Even Maud’s usually sound judgment had not a leg to stand on. There was no doubt that John and Rodney spoke the gospel truth. “We’ll take you girls along with us to-night —if you’re game.” Rodney watched their faces as he made the suggestion.

Joan pressed her lips together firmly. She wanted to cry out —“Oh, no, no!” Maud’s forehead creased anxiously. “Can a ghost harm people?” she asked earnestly. Rodney rubbed his head until his hair stood up on end. “Not the ghosts of these scientific days,” was the conclusion at which he arrived.

“Of course, I cannot promise that it will be on view. Last night was the first time that John and I have ever seen the ghost. It evidently does not appear always. Only on high days and holidays,” he added lightly. Little 800 hopped round on one leg, all eagerness: “What did you do when vou saw it?”

Joan knew very well what she would have done —run away as fast as her legs could have carried her! “Nothing—just looked. It was rather thrilling, I can tell you.” '

“It’s not often anyone is lucky enough to see a ghost.” John remarked pompously. He would not admit even to his own soul that he had been seized with an ’intense desire to run home to bed—and pull the clothes over his head.

Late that night, when all good people should have been asleep, live small forms of varying sizes might have been seen scrambling over the rocks at the one end of the beach. It would have been particularly noticeable that they crowded together in a bunch. That part of the beach was lonely and wild, and seldom visited even in the daytime, and it was a good stretch for young legs from home. A few gulls occasionally flew above the rocks, like distressed spirits.

Happily for Aunt Roberta’s peace of mind she was sleeping peacefully, and knew nothing of the latest escapade of her young charges. But what child would have refused to take the unique chance offered of seeing a ghost? “Whilst we are waiting for the ghost, Johnny and I will fish,” said the master of ceremonies.

The boys stood up to their labours, and the girls sat in a row on a big flat rock. Joan took good care that her little person was squeezed in between her two sisters.

“It’s hard—and chilly—sitting here,” Maud remarked plaintively. “1 wish we had brought the rug with

Tho night was dark, as there was no moon shining at that hour. Maud, gazing at the sea, thought drearily that it would be horrible to drown in such murky, oily water, which looked as if it might harbour strange, loathsome sea-monsters. She decided thjit drowning would not be “half-bad” in a blue sea with a gorgeously blue sky above. In order to complete the picture a blue and white bathing suit would be essential —and hers was an inartistic, green! .Joan’s voice broke in upon her thoughts—“l don’t like the look of the rocks,” it said in a droning undertone. “U-g-h! They make me shudder! That one might be a giant tortoise—wouldn’t we all jump if it suddenly rose on logs and walked towards us! O-h-h!”

She shut her eyes tightly, and he 4 cold little hand stole into Maud’s palm. The elder sister gave it a sympathetic squeeze. Brothers, after all, were nothing more or less than torturers! Little 800, who had been thinking deeply, her eyes watching her brothers’ movements, suddenly asked—“ What did you do with all the fish you caught?’ ’ The boys ignored the awkward question. So 800, in all innocence, repeated it in a voice slightly raised in tone. “W-c-e-1-1,” drawled Rodney, racking his brains for a suitable reply. Little Boo’s mind worked with amazing rapidity: “Why, I don’t believe you ever caught any fish, at all!” She laughed merrily, and then thrust her little hands over her mouth to try to muffle the noise, for ghosts might not like such a frivolous sound. She rocked her slight body backwards and forwards, convulsed at the joke. “Mind your own business,” Rodney muttered sourly. When peace was restored, Maud observed —“Mr Maddock’s house and house and grounds must be somewhere on 'top of that cliff. How funny! I wonder —if —he —has ever .seen the ghost!” “I’ll ask him to-morrow,” said Little 800. (To be Continued.J