“I shall say, ‘Are you ready? one, two, three!’ and then fire,” said Mr. Prendergast. “Are you ready? One”—there was a terrific report. “Oh dear! I’m sorry”—but the race had begun. Clearly Tangent was not going to win; he was sitting on the grass crying because he had been wounded in the foot by Mr. Prendergast’s bullet. Philbrick carried him, wailing dismally, into the refreshment tent, where Dingy helped him off with his shoe. His heel was slightly grazed. Dingy gave him a large slice of cake, and he hobbled out surrounded by a sympathetic crowd.
“That won’t hurt him,” said Lady Circumference, “but I think someone ought to remove the pistol from that old man before he does anything serious.”
“I knew that was going to happen,” said Lord Circumference.
“A most unfortunate beginning,” said the Doctor.
“Am I going to die?” said Tangent, his mouth full of cake.
“For God’s sake, look after Prendy,” said Grimes in Paul’s ear. “The man’s as tight as a lord, and on one whisky, too.”
“First blood to me!” said Mr. Prendergast gleefully.
“The last race will be run again,” said Paul down the megaphone. “Starter, Mr. Philbrick; timekeeper, Mr. Prendergast.”
“On your marks! Get set.” Bang went the pistol, this time without disaster. The six little boys scampered off through the mud, disappeared behind the beeches and returned rather more slowly. Captain Grimes and Mr. Prendergast held up a piece of tape.
“Well run, sir!” shouted Colonel Sidebotham. “Jolly good race.”
“Capital,” said Mr. Prendergast, and dropping his end of the tape, he sauntered over to the Colonel. “I can see you are a fine judge of a race, sir. So was I once. So’s Grimes. A capital fellow, Grimes; a bounder, you know, but a capital fellow. Bounders can be capital fellows; don’t you agree, Colonel Slidebottom? In fact, I’d go further and say that capital fellows are bounders. What d’you say to that? I wish you’d stop pulling at my arm, Pennyfeather. Colonel Shybotham and I are just having a most interesting conversation about bounders.”
The silver band struck up again, and Mr. Prendergast began a little jig, saying: “Capital fellow! capital fellow!” and snapping his fingers. Paul led him to the refreshment tent.
“Dingy wants you to help her in there,” he said firmly, “and, for God’s sake, don’t come out until you feel better.”
“I never felt better in my life,” said Mr. Prendergast indignantly. “Capital fellow! capital fellow!”
“It is not my affair, of course,” said Colonel Sidebotham, “but if you ask me I should say that man had been drinking.”
“He was talking very excitedly to me,” said the Vicar, “about some apparatus for warming a church in Worthing and about the Apostolic Claims of the Church of Abyssinia. I confess I could not follow him clearly. He seems deeply interested in Church matters. Are you quite sure he is right in the head? I have noticed again and again since I have been in the Church that lay interest in ecclesiastical matters is often a prelude to insanity.”
“Drink, pure and simple,” said the Colonel. “I wonder where he got it? I could do with a spot of whisky.”
“Quarter-mile Open!” said Paul through his megaphone.
Presently the Clutterbucks arrived. Both the parents were stout. They brought with them two small children, a governess, and an elder son. They debouched from the car one by one, stretching their limbs in evident relief.
“This is Sam,” said Mr. Clutterbuck, “just down from Cambridge. He’s joined me in the business, and we’ve brought the nippers along for a treat. Don’t mind, do you, Doc? And last, but not least, my wife.”
Dr. Fagan greeted them with genial condescension and found them seats.
“I am afraid you have missed all the jumping events,” he said. “But I have a list of the results here. You will see that Percy has done extremely well.”
“Didn’t know the little beggar had it in him. See that, Martha? Percy’s won the high-jump and the long-jump and the hurdles. How’s your young hopeful been doing, Lady Circumference?”
“My boy has been injured in the foot,” said Lady Circumference coldly.
“Dear me! Not badly, I hope? Did he twist his ankle in the jumping?”
“No,” said Lady Circumference, “he was shot at by one of the assistant masters. But it is kind of you to inquire.”
“Three Miles Open!” announced Paul. “The course of six laps will be run as before.”
“On your marks! Get set.” Bang went Philbrick’s revolver. Off trotted the boys on another race.
“Father,” said Flossie, “don’t you think it’s time for the tea interval?”
“Nothing can be done before Mrs. Beste-Chetwynde arrives,” said the Doctor.
Round and round the muddy track trotted the athletes while the silver band played sacred music unceasingly.
“Last lap!” announced Paul.
The school and the visitors crowded about the tape to cheer the winner. Amid loud applause Clutterbuck breasted the tape well ahead of the others.
“Well run! Oh, good, jolly good, sir!” cried Colonel Sidebotham.
“Good old Percy! That’s the stuff,” said Mr. Clutterbuck.
“Well run, Percy!” chorused the two little Clutterbucks, prompted by their governess.
“That boy cheated,” said Lady Circumference. “He only went round five times. I counted.”
“I think unpleasantness so mars the afternoon,” said the Vicar.
“How dare you suggest such a thing?” asked Mrs. Clutterbuck. “I appeal to the referee. Percy ran the full course, didn’t he?”
“Clutterbuck wins,” said Captain Grimes.
“Fiddlesticks!” said Lady Circumference. “He deliberately lagged behind and joined the others as they went behind the beeches. The little toad!”
“Really, Greta,” said Lord Circumference, “I think we ought to abide by the referee’s decision.”
“Well, they can’t expect me to give away the prizes, then. Nothing would induce me to give that boy a prize.”
“Do you understand, madam, that you are bringing a serious accusation against my son’s honour?”
“Serious accusation, fiddlesticks! What he wants is a jolly good hidin’.”
“No doubt you judge other people’s sons by your own. Let me tell you, Lady Circumference …”
“Don’t attempt to browbeat me, sir. I know a cheat when I see one.”
At this stage of the discussion the Doctor left Mrs. Hope-Browne’s
