"Hands up for!" demanded Hasluck.

"One minute before you vote," came the languid voice of Waterman, as the hands shot up. "You don't want to be in such a hurry. It's bad for the nerves. People in a hurry have fits. They get themselves into knots and tangles which take no end of time to get out of, and leave them with a lovely headache into the bargain. That's what you're going in for--fits, tangles, headaches. I gave Moncrief major credit for sense. You're not going to follow his lead, are you?"

The arms that were held up fell. The boys stared at Waterman in astonishment. It was not often that he took the trouble to speak at these meetings, but when he did it was usually to the point.

"Of course we are. Why shouldn't we?" exclaimed Parfitt.

"You'll be bigger a.s.ses than I took you for--and that's saying a good deal, you know--if you do. I didn't hear all that took place after Moncrief struck Percival. The atmosphere was getting bad, you see, and I don't like breathing bad atmosphere, if I can help it; so I don't know what pa.s.sed between you fellows. I've no doubt it was something choice, and that I lost a great deal; so perhaps you wouldn't mind telling me why Percival's to be expelled."

This demand on Waterman's part, made in the most innocent manner, was met with howls of derision. They could never quite tell from Waterman's manner whether he was serious or poking fun at them; but this time it seemed quite clear that he could only be poking fun.

"Yes, that's very musical," proceeded Waterman calmly, when the howling had subsided. "I couldn't do better myself, if I tried. You're going to expel Percival because you believe he engineered the flag. That's it, isn't it?" (Cries of a.s.sent.) "Good! I like to get at things," retorted Waterman, still keeping his languid position on the box. "Engineering the flag means--what? It means that Percival, by trickery, got it away from Garside. Is that it?"

"Yes, yes!" came the approving shout.

"Well, vote as you like. Here's one that's going to vote against you."

"Why? What's your reason?"

"Because I happen to remember what happened on the day the flag was lost. Seems to me most of you have forgotten."

Waterman had started up from his languid position on the box; his face had lost its wearied, languid expression, and had become quite animated.

"I haven't, and never shall, though I never pretend to remember things; they're so beastly uninteresting, as a rule. This wasn't. That's why I remember, I suppose. Well, on the afternoon the flag was lost I was going from the school, when I nearly ran full tilt against a fellow who was carrying a little chap, dripping wet, in his arms. The fellow was Percival; the little chap was Hibbert. You know what happened, though you seem to have forgotten it. Percival, at the risk of his own life, saved the little chap from the river."

Stanley's head fell to his breast. The scene came to him as Waterman was speaking. Had he not met Paul on that day staggering along with his burden? Had he not avoided him, when he might have given a helping hand?

"What's that to do with it?" demanded Newall. "Supposing Percival did pull the youngster out of the river, what's that to do with the flag?"

"What's that to do with the flag!" repeated Waterman. "It's this to do with it--how could Percival be playing tricks with the flag, and fishing at the same time a poor little chap out of the river? Besides, would a fellow who'd done a splendid thing like that stoop to such a mean thing as the other?"

"Yes," retorted Newall boldly. "A fellow who would turn tail like he did at the sand-pits, and again in the common room, would do anything. It's you who forget, Waterman. We've asked Percival for an explanation. If he's innocent, why doesn't he explain?"

"I don't know, and what's more, I don't care. What I've seen of Percival is quite good enough for me."

"Vote, Vote!" cried Parfitt. "We don't want any more twaddle."

Hasluck brought down his hammer as a signal that discussion was at an end. Then he put the motion moved by Stanley--"That the Form call upon the Head to expel Percival from the school."

Stanley would have voted against his own proposal had it been possible.

But it was impossible; so his hand went up with the rest--all save one.

"Against!" cried Hasluck.

Up went the hand of Waterman, amid the derisive cheers of those around him.

"Phew! The atmosphere of this place is getting beastly, just like the common room on the day when the shindy was. Phew! I don't wish to be unpolite, but I'm sure you fellows won't mind if I get out of it."

And thrusting his hands into his pockets, Waterman sauntered out.

So the vote was carried that Paul Percival should be expelled from Garside.

CHAPTER XLVI

WATERMAN DOES A STRANGE THING

For one who had professed himself as beastly hot and f.a.gged, Waterman did a strange thing after he had left the Forum. He walked with a speed that was simply amazing for him in the direction of St. Bede's; and what was still more remarkable, he did not stop until he had reached it. None of the Beetles were about at the time, but he had not long to wait before he caught sight of one of the junior form.

"Will you tell Wyndham I wish to see him--as quickly as possible."

The boy stared at him, as Murrell had stared at Paul when he had visited St. Bede's. It was not till he had repeated his message that he seemed to comprehend.

"Quick, there isn't much time to lose!" exclaimed Waterman, as though it were a matter of life and death.

Then the boy hurried off, and a minute or two later Wyndham appeared.

Waterman was unknown to him; so that he was just as much astonished at seeing him as the smaller boy had been.

"I'm a Gargoyle, you can see that. My name's Waterman, and I've come here about a fellow named Percival. Spare me the f.a.g of explaining too much."

"Percival! What about him!" demanded Wyndham, at once interested.

"There's a strong movement on foot to get him expelled from Garside.

It's chiefly over the flag. His best friend, or one who was, has turned against him; and things are looking as black for Percival as they can look. I'm afraid that he'll get the worst of it, unless something's done. I can do nothing; so I've come to you. There's some beastly mystery about the whole business. Percival won't explain because of somebody else, and that somebody else is you. I'm certain you won't see Percival kicked from Garside, if a few words from you will set things right."

"Kicked from Garside!" exclaimed Wyndham. "Tell me what happened?"

Waterman, feeling that the time for speaking frankly had come, told Wyndham all that had happened--from the day Wyndham had fought and conquered Stanley in the sand-pits.

They remained a long time in conversation, and when Waterman at length returned to Garside, Wyndham returned with him.

In the meantime an interview of a different nature was taking place at Garside. After the meeting in the Forum, Stanley, feeling very wretched, had retreated to his dormitory, where in a few minutes he was joined by his cousin Harry, who was looking just as miserable and uncomfortable.

"I say, Stan, is it right what I hear--that Percival is to be kicked out of Garside?"

"Well, what if he is? Doesn't he deserve it?"

"I don't know. It's a puzzle. I can't make things out. Look at this letter. I picked it up while the shindy was going on between you and Paul in the common room. All the fellows were crowding round you. No one saw the letter but me. Paul dropped it when he was mopping the blood from his face. I ought to have given it back, but I saw that it was father's handwriting; so I sneaked off with it, and read it; and then--then I knew that I'd done a mean thing and did not like to give it back to Paul."

He handed Stanley the letter--the letter in which Mr. Moncrief had answered Paul's inquiries about Zuker and Mr. Weevil, and concluded by inviting him and Stanley to Redmead at the next vacation.

"What does it all mean?" demanded Stanley, when he had read the letter.

"I can't make out. I thought, perhaps, you might be able to throw light on it."