‘Yes. I saw a strange car and deduced things. I knew you’d sling me out if I kept on long enough, and it seemed the best way to manage. I didn’t want a lot of sympathetic goats offering to accompany me if I’d said I felt ill or anything, and one puts away childish things like asking to go to the what’s it when one leaves school. So I thought I’d better rag. No evil intentions.’
‘All right,’ said Deborah.
‘Many thanks. And now, Polly, to your affairs, for matters must not be left as they are. How safe are you as a confidante, I wonder?’
‘About Miss Cornflake?’ asked Deborah, who realized that it was her status and sense of responsibility and not her ability to keep a secret which Laura was questioning.
‘Well, that’s the trouble. If I said yes to that, you’d be absolved officially from having to blow the gaff, I suppose, wouldn’t you?’ said Laura. ‘Oh, heck, it makes my head ache, trying to think. On the other hand, I don’t like lying unless it’s absolutely necessary, and it
‘Oh, yes. She’s the Miss Paynter-Tree of the Secondary School,’ said Deborah, who had been told this by Mrs Bradley.
‘Has she come clean?’
‘She hasn’t confessed anything, and she insists that she was carrying the revolver in self-defence, a thin story which nobody believes. Still, she’s wriggling pretty hard, and she hadn’t actually attacked anybody when you tackled her, you see, so she claims she’s being wrongfully detained. Still, she’d have to be kept in the Infirmary for a time, in any case, as Mrs Bradley told her.’
‘I say, they won’t let her go?’ demanded Laura, sitting up in bed with a jerk which caused her to wince.
‘Not a chance. Don’t worry. Mrs Bradley is perfectly safe,’ Deborah replied. ‘We are all much obliged to you,’ she added, assisting the patient to lie down again.
‘We spent part of the afternoon with her, you know,’ said Laura. ‘With Mrs Bradley, I mean. And I had the feeling we were being watched all the time. Kitty and I kept our eyes skinned, but couldn’t spot anyone, but then, that isn’t surprising. And I never believed that yarn about Cornflake having the measles. We found the quarry where she did some of the fell work. I wish we could prove it on her, and have done with it. And that brings me full circle, by the way. Made up your mind yet?’
‘What about?’ inquired Deborah, who had forgotten the opening of the conversation.
‘Whether I’m to trust you to keep your mouth shut,’ said Laura bluntly.
‘Oh, that! Well, I can’t promise. How can I?’
‘How can you? No, it’s awkward. However, between friends, here goes! Cartwright has received a rummy communication from the lads, and has asked my advice. She went just before you came. They want to swap College skeletons with us. I’d tell Mrs Croc. — Mrs Bradley — only I’m afraid she’d have to go all official. I thought perhaps you needn’t.’
‘What lads?’ asked Deborah. ‘Do you mean the students over at Wattsdown? If so, I should tell Mrs Bradley. That’s my advice. Where is the letter now?’
‘Cartwright’s still got it, I hope. But don’t you see, darling, that if I break these tidings to Mrs Bradley, she’ll immediately jump to the conclusion that old Cartwright was mixed up in the Great Receptacle Rag which took place, if you remember, at the beginning of last term.’
‘Well, but would that matter? If Miss Cartwright was not involved, she’d only have to say so.’
‘Trouble is,’ said Laura, ‘she was in the thick, you see.’
‘Oh? That does seem awkward. Was she in collusion with Miss Cornflake, then?’
‘Oh, no. She merely saw that the going was good, and charged in with her quota of the devilment, that was all. Sorry I can’t spill details.’
‘I don’t believe Mrs Bradley would care twopence about the rag as such,’ said Deborah. ‘After all, it’s all over and done with, as far as that goes, and Mrs Bradley always thought there were two lots of ragging going on. But is Miss Cartwright certain who sent the letter? It couldn’t be a hoax, or — or something unpleasant again, could it?’
‘As a matter of fact, her brother sent it. He’s her twin, and in his second year there, the same as she is here. She swears it came from him.’
‘Writing genuine?’
‘Oh, yes. And what’s more — I went into all this, I might tell you, from this bed of sickness just now, Cartwright having cut a couple of lectures in order to seek me out and obtain my invaluable advice — he addresses her in the letter by a name which no one outside the family, she declares, would ever be likely to get hold of.’
‘Well, really, Dog, my advice still is for you and Miss Cartwright to see Mrs Bradley, put the whole thing to her in confidence, as you have to me, and abide by what she says. I do think we must let her have all the facts we can.’
‘What did you call me?’ asked Laura.
‘Dog. A revenge epithet,’ replied Deborah. ‘And it’s not what I’d like to call you sometimes,’ she added. She rose to go.
‘Must you go?’ inquired Laura. ‘You’re rather soothing, you know, after some of the bull-nosed idiots with great big feet who’ve been bursting in here to condole with me. I wonder how much longer,’ she added, snuggling down, ‘I can fool the general public that I’m ill? It’s not a bad way of spending one’s time, and Mrs Croc.’s invalid diet is to be commended. No messes. All good nourishing food. Well, if you must go — but come again soon, there’s a love.’
‘Well, as a matter of fact, Warden,’ said Miss Cartwright, ‘it’s their annual theatre rag, and my brother complains that the skeleton they’ve got isn’t properly articulated, and they want to borrow ours.’
‘Very sensible,’ said Mrs Bradley, ‘particularly as I believe the skeleton at present in the Science Room
