Page 174

CHAPTER XIII

Form Bench, and watched the thin trickle of Jordan river, where it mingled with the Thames. The backwater, which ran up beside Fellows' Eyot, was hard, dry mud. College Field, where Y company had stamped and sweated on the spring turf, was now a sunburnt desert, and the long grass under the elms was rank and coarse and yellow. Fellows' Pond was a stagnant slough. Twice during the half Denis had gone fishing with a boy from Huntley's, who knew how to throw out a triple barbed hook and jerk it into the sides of the pike, as they basked in the sun. He had lent Denis his rod, but he only roused the pike with his ill-timed splashes. The other boy had landed several fish, which fought all the fiercer for being foul-hooked in the flank. But now the pond was low and full of weed. The snake stems of the water lilies had spread their flat leaves from bank to bank. There was something foul and horrid about the place.
The sun blinds were out down town. On the marble slabs of the fish-shop, plaice and cod lay limp and tired in the heat. Black corps coats were being rolled in the tailors, ready to be sent up to the houses the same evening.
" You keep watch," said Peter, " while I skip in here. What do you want? "
" Anything you like. Same as you."
" A hundred Abdullas ? Right, here goes." He dived into the tobacconist's. Two men were at the counter, buying a pipe. The shopkeeper saw Peter and excused himself.
" Two hundreds of Abdullas, quick," said Peter.
" I say, you're attending to us, I thought," said one of the men. " What's the price of this briar."
" Four and six," said the tobacconist. " You'll excuse me a second, gentlemen."
" Hang it, can't you wait till I've finished ? First come, first served, I always thought. What about this pipe here ? "
Peter stood in the background. He was very calm. " Serve these people first, if they are in a hurry," he said.