The Rival Candidates

Lovell, still desperately resisting, was sprawled over the desk. Jones minor brandished the Form-master’s cane and brought it down with a terrific whack. The yell that came from Arthur Edward Lovell could have been heard all over Rookwood. – Extracted from Parted Pals!, by Owen Conquest (a.k.a Frank Richards), The Boys’ Friend, 27 February 1926. Available to download free-of-charge here.

Arthur Edward Lovell has his name down for the forthcoming election for Captain of the Shell at Rookwood school, but supporters of his rival want him to withdraw his name. He has already refused and a gang set upon him in the classroom.

Now read on ...

 

Arthur Edward Lovell had many faults and weaknesses; but want of pluck certainly was not one of them. He stood up to his assailants manfully and hit out right and left.

Two or three of the juniors went rolling over under his hefty drives. Then Lovell was collared and dragged down among the desks.

He still struggled fiercely, and half a dozen fellows had plenty to do to hold him.

“Bang his napper!” howled Jones minor, clasping his nose, which streamed red from a hefty blow from Lovell’s knuckles.

“Go it!”

“Give him jip!”

Lovell, still resisting desperately, was dragged to his desk and Mornington grasped the back of his collar.

“Now, you cheeky ass,” exclaimed Morny, “are you going to tell Bulkeley to take your name off?”

“No,” roared Lovell.

Bang!

Lovell’s head smote the desk, with a hefty smite. There was a fiendish yell from Arthur Edward.

“Now, will you have another?” demanded Mornington. “Mind, we’re goin’ to keep this up as long as you do. Will you chuck it?”

“No!” bawled Lovell furiously.

Bang!

“Yaroooooh!”

“Here’s Dalton’s cane,” yelled Jones minor. “Hold him over the desk while I give him six.”

“Good egg!”

“You rotters!” yelled Lovell.

“Bend him over!”

“Go it Jonesy!”

Lovell, still desperately resisting, was sprawled over the desk. Jones minor brandished the Form-master’s cane and brought it down with a terrific whack. The yell that came from Arthur Edward Lovell could have been heard all over Rookwood.

“Yarooooooooop!”

Whack!

“What is this disturbance?” asked a quiet voice in the doorway.

“Oh, my hat!”

“Cave!”

“It’s Dicky!”

Richard Ralton, the master of the Fourth walked into the Form-room with a frowning brow. Lovell was instantly released, and he staggered to a form and sat down gasping for breath.

 

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