Fantasy Football Challenge - Football Fanatics Library

Fantasy Football Challenge - Library of Books for Football Fanatics

Fantasy Football Challenge presents
The Triple Alliance

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have been supposed to include every form of skylarking which the heart of the small boy could devise, from racing round the quadrangle, arrayed in one of Bibbs's night-shirts, to playing football in the gymnasium, North _versus_ South, with the remains of an old mortar-board. It was at this period of the day that the Triple Alliance proceeded to carry out a project which had for some little time occupied the minds of at least two of their number. The idea was that the little fraternity should celebrate their approaching separation, and the consequent breaking up of their association, with a sort of funeral feast, the cost of which Jack and Diggory insisted should be borne by the two surviving members. Only one outsider was invited to attend--namely, "Rats," whose cheery presence it was thought would tend to enliven the proceedings, and chase away the gloomy clouds of regret which would naturally hang over the near prospect of parting. The box-room (where such functions usually took place) being at this time in a state of indescribable uproar, it was decided that the banquet should be served in one of the remote classrooms. "None of the fellows'll come near it," said Jack Vance; "and if old Watford should be knocking round and catch us there, he won't do anything to-day; we shall have to clear out, that's all." Accordingly, about a quarter to four, the three friends, with their solitary guest, assembled at the trysting-place. Jack Vance carried two big paper bags, Diggory a biscuit-box and a small tin kettle, while the other two were provided with four clean jam-pots, it having been announced that there was "going to be some cocoa." For the preparation of this luxury Diggory mounted a form and lit one of the gas-jets, over which he and Jack Vance took it in turns to hold the kettle until the water boiled. Sugar, cocoa, and condensed milk were produced from the biscuit-tin, and the jam-pots having been filled with the steaming beverage, the company seated themselves round the stove, in which there still smouldered some remains of the morning's fire, and prepared to enjoy themselves. From the first, however, the proceeding's fell as flat as ditch-water. Even the gallant efforts of "Rats" to enliven the party were of no avail; and for some time everybody munched away in silence, Jack Vance occasionally pausing to remark, "Here, pass over that nose-bag, and help yourselves." The classroom itself, which belonged to the Third Form, was suggestive of that glad season known as "breaking-up." The ink-pots had all been collected, and stood together in a tray on the master's table; fragments of examination papers filled the paper-basket, and were littered here and there about the floor, while some promising Latin scholar had scrawled across the blackboard the well-known words, _Dulce Domum_. These inspiriting signs of a "good time coming" were, however, lost on the Triple Alliance. Their present surroundings served only to remind them of the old days of "The Happy Family," when they had first come to Ronleigh, never expecting but to have completed the period of their school lives in one another's company. "Well," said Jack Vance, suddenly broaching the subject which was uppermost in each of their minds, "we've had jolly times together.-- D'you remember when we made the Alliance, the day you first came to The Birches, Diggory?" "Yes," answered Diggory; "it was just after we'd been frightened by the ghost. D'you remember the 'Main-top' and the 'House of Lords' and the Philistines? I wonder what's become of them all?" One reminiscence suggested another, and after exhausting their recollections of The Birches, they recalled their varied experiences at Ronleigh. Only one adventure was by mutual consent not alluded to: their clandestine visit to The Hermitage, coupled with Noaks's threat, hung like the sword suspended by a single hair above the head of Damocles at the feast. At length, when the paper bags had been wellnigh emptied, Jack Vance intimated his intention of making a speech--which announcement was received with considerable applause. "Don't finish up your cocoa," he began, "because, before we dissolve the Alliance, I'm going to propose a toast. We've been friends a long time, and both here and at The Birches, as Diggory says, the Triple Alliance has done wonders and covered itself with glory." (Cheers.) "We said when we started that we'd always stand by each other whatever happened; and so we have, and so we would again if we were going to be together any longer." ("Hear, hear!") "I wish 'Rats' could have joined us, but then I suppose it wouldn't have been the Triple Alliance. However, now it's finished with; but before we break it up, I'm going to call upon you to drink the health of Mr. Mugford. May he have long life and happiness, and a jolly fine house, with a model railway, and a lake for boating in the grounds, and ask us all to come and stay with him whenever we feel inclined." This sentiment was received with shouts of applause, and in honouring it the jam-pots were drained to their muddy dregs. No one expected that Mugford would reply, for he was decidedly a man of few words; but on this occasion he rose above his usual self, and sitting with his hands in his trouser pockets, his feet on the fender of the stove, and his chin sunk forward on his breast, delivered himself as follows. The room was already growing dark with the early winter twilight, which perhaps rendered it more easy for him to undertake the task of responding to the toast. "You've always been very kind to me," he began, speaking rather quickly. "No, we haven't," interrupted Jack Vance. "Yes, you have. Just shut up; I'm going to say what I like. You made friends with me because I happened to be in the same room at The Birches; but you always stuck to me, and helped me along a lot when we came here first. I know I'm stupid, and sometimes I feel I'm a coward; but I enjoyed being with you, and shall always remember the times we've had together--yes, I swear I shall--always. And now I've got a drop of cocoa left, so I'm going to propose a toast. You must take 'Rats' in my place. I hope you'll have heaps of larks; and you must write me a letter sometimes and tell me what you're doing. Here goes--The new

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