“Tell me more,” said George, “about the Professors.”
My father told him about the nuggets, the sale of his kit, the receipt he had given for the money, and how he had got the nuggets back from a tree, the position of which he described.
“I know the tree; have you got the nuggets here?”
“Here they are, with the receipt, and the pocket handkerchief marked with Hanky’s name. The pocket handkerchief was found wrapped round some dried leaves that we call tea, but I have not got these with me.” As he spoke he gave everything to George, who showed the utmost delight in getting possession of them.
“I suppose the blanket and the rest of the kit are still in the tree?”
“Unless Hanky and Panky have got them away, or someone has found them.”
“This is not likely. I will now go to my office, but I will come back very shortly. My grandfather shall bring you something to eat at once. I will tell him to send enough for two”—which he accordingly did.
On reaching the office, he told his next brother (whom he had made an under-ranger) to go to the tree he described, and bring back the bundle he should find concealed therein. “You can go there and back,” he said, “in an hour and a half, and I shall want the bundle by that time.”
The brother, whose name I never rightly caught, set out at once. As soon as he was gone, George took from a drawer the feathers and bones of quails, that he had shown my father on the morning when he met him. He divided them in half, and made them into two bundles, one of which he docketed, “Bones of quails eaten, XIX xii 29, by Professor Hanky, P.O.W.W., etc.” And he labelled Panky’s quail bones in like fashion.
Having done this, he returned to the gaol, but on his way he looked in at the Mayor’s, and left a note saying that he should be at the gaol, where any message would reach him, but that he did not wish to meet Professors Hanky and Panky for another couple of hours. It was now about half-past twelve, and he caught sight of a crowd coming quietly out of the temple, whereby he knew that Hanky would soon be at the Mayor’s house.
Dinner was brought in almost at the moment when George returned to the gaol. As soon as it was over George said:—
“Are you quite sure you have made no mistake about the way in which you got the permit out of the Professors?”
“Quite sure. I told them they would not want it, and said I could save them trouble if they gave it me. They never suspected why I wanted it. Where do you think I may be mistaken?”
“You sold your nuggets for rather less than a twentieth part of their value, and you threw in some curiosities, that would have fetched about half as much as you got for the nuggets. You say you did this because you wanted money to keep you going till you could sell some of your nuggets. This sounds well at first, but the sacrifice is too great to be plausible when considered. It looks more like a case of good honest manly straightforward corruption.”
“But surely you believe me?”
“Of course I do. I believe every syllable that comes from your mouth, but I shall not be able to make out that the story was as it was not, unless I am quite certain what it really was.”
“It was exactly as I have told you.”
“That is enough. And now, may I tell my mother that you will put yourself in her, and the Mayor’s, and my, hands, and will do whatever we tell you?”
“I will be obedience itself—but you will not ask me to do anything that will make your mother or you think less well of me?”
“If we tell you what you are to do, we shall not think any the worse of you for doing it. Then I may say to my mother that you will be good and give no trouble—not even though we bid you shake hands with Hanky and Panky?”
“I will embrace them and kiss them on both cheeks, if you and she tell me to do so. But what about the Mayor?”
“He has known everything, and condoned everything, these last twenty years. He will leave everything to my mother and me.”
“Shall I have to see him?”
“Certainly. You must be brought up before him tomorrow morning.”
“How can I look him in the face?”
“As you would me, or anyone else. It is understood among us that nothing happened. Things may have looked as though they had happened, but they did not happen.”
“And you are not yet quite twenty?”
“No, but I am son to my mother—and,” he added, “to one who can stretch a point or two in the way of honesty as well as other people.”
Having said this with a laugh, he again took my father’s hand between both his, and went back to his office—where he set himself to think out the course he intended to take when dealing with the Professors.
XVIII
Yram Invites Dr. Downie and Mrs. Humdrum to Luncheon—A Passage at Arms Between Her and Hanky Is Amicably Arranged
The disturbance caused by my father’s outbreak was quickly suppressed, for George got him out of the temple almost immediately; it was bruited about, however, that the Sunchild had come down from the palace of the sun, but had disappeared as soon as anyone had tried to touch him. In vain did Hanky try to put fresh life into his sermon; its back had been broken, and large numbers left the church to see what they could hear outside, or failing information, to discourse more freely with one another.
Hanky did his best to quiet his hearers when he found that he could not infuriate
