A Javelin for Jonah

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Henry had not yet collected his search party. The College enjoyed its after-lunch break and was disinclined to go roaming the woods on what the majority thought would be a fool’s errand.

“Who wants to find bloody Jonah, anyway? Good riddance if he has gone,” was the consensus of opinion. Hamish, faced with this conclusion, left the tennis courts and went on to the field where the gymnasts, singly or in small groups, were stretched out in the sunshine, secure in the knowledge that for them there would be no class that afternoon. He spoke crisply to one and another.

“You a gym man? Well, there’s no gym this afternoon, so go on to the tennis courts and report to Henry. Why? Because I shall scrag you if you don’t.”

As the gymnasts, on the whole, tended to be small-boned and amenable rather than hefty and belligerent, this policy worked well, particularly as the men’s gym squad, owing to Jones’s slackness, were known to be lethargic and out of condition. They groused and slouched, but they obeyed. Henry addressed them.

“You’ll be looking for Jonah. He may be injured. He must be found. I’d rather we found him than the police. That’s all. We’ll quarter the woods inch by inch. It shouldn’t take long.” He indicated a heap of hockey sticks which some of the girls had been asked to bring over from their games shed. “These will help you to prod the undergrowth and shove brambles out of your way, and all that. Shout out if you find him or if you find anything which will help us to trace him. If he’s hurt, of course don’t attempt to move him. O.K.? Off we go, then.”

“Do you think there are enough of us to search the woods thoroughly, Henry?” asked a slim youth wearing a singlet and grey flannels. “When I’ve seen films where the police do it, they fan out and beat every bit of bracken.”

“Trouble is that everybody except you blokes has a coaching session in about half-an-hour’s time, Gil.”

“What about the long-jump squad, then? There’s been a sort of hoodoo placed on the pit since Colin’s accident and what with Barry being on leave until recently, and all that. Why shouldn’t they be given something to do, as well as us?”

“Barry is going to give them a blackboard lecture with slides of Klaus Beer, Ralph Boston and Lynn Davies—oh, and Mary Rand and Viorica Viscopoleanu, of course. I’m afraid Barry is not very keen on using the pit even yet. He can’t get over Colin’s accident, any more than the long-jump squad can. You cut along and start looking for Jonah, and don’t worry about the long-jump fellows.”

“It’s a bit morbid of Barry, don’t you think, to boycott the pit like this?” asked Hamish, as he and Henry cantered after the students. “After all, accidents do happen, and Colin seems to be going on all right.”

“Barry will get himself sorted out in time. He’s very fond of Colin, you know. Besides, he blames himself for the accident in the most unreasonable way. Says that if he hadn’t gone on leave, the thing would never have happened. Well, of course it wouldn’t, but you can’t argue in that sort of way.”

“How thoroughly do you think this lot will search?” asked Hamish, as they caught up with the last of the gymnasts and passed them.

“I don’t think they’ll put themselves out, but the woods are not very extensive. We’d better separate, I think. You take the left side and I’ll do the rest. How much time can you spare?”

“Not a lot, I’m afraid. Got a swim-session with some learners. I want everybody in College to be able to swim.”

“All right, then. Do you know that old hut in the clearing?”

“No, but I can find it.”

“All right. Take that path there. It leads to it. If the hut seems to be locked, kick it in. The timbers are sure to be rotten.”

“If it’s locked, Jones can’t be there.”

“Somebody may have a key. They got one to the stoke-hole, remember.”

Hamish found the hut. It was locked, but he had no difficulty in kicking in two or three boards and entering the musty premises. There were two rooms. The building must have been a temporary shelter for a gamekeeper when the estate had been in private hands. Hamish looked around. The rooms were bare, except for cobwebs, and smelt damp. There was no sign of Jones. On his way out of the woods he encountered Henry again.

“Not in the hut,” he said.

“No? It was just a possibility,” said Henry. “We haven’t had any luck, either. Well, I’m going to leave the students to it now. I feel I’ve shown willing and I ought to be back in College in case Gassie wants me. Miss Yale has just met me and mentioned the stoke-hole, so I think I’ll take another look at it just in case there’s another something which I’ve overlooked.”

“Another something? How do you mean?”

“Well, it turns out that there is another key. It belongs to Miss Yale and hangs up just inside her door with one or two other of her keys. She says it isn’t there now and she can’t remember when she saw it last. She came to tell me.”

“Oh, dear! Well, if Jones has been removed from the stoke-hole —and it seems he has — where on earth can they have put him? That’s if he hasn’t slung his hook off his own bat. He may well have done so, you know. I mean, don’t you think that, if the students did manhandle him a bit and then some of them let him go, he may have got wind up and decided that enough is enough? This business of Miss Yale’s key may be significant, don’t you see. I mean, another lot of students might have known it was there, let him out with it and threatened that it might be worse for him next time.”

“Well, it could be so, I suppose, but, in view of his car’s still being here, I don’t think it’s very likely. I agree that somebody in the know, but not one of the six who came along to confess, must have swiped Miss Yale’s key, taken Jones out of storage and put him somewhere else, but it’s only speculation.”

“Who is the somebody? And where, as I say, could they have put him if the students don’t find him in the woods?”