William in Trouble by Richmal Crompton Page A

sir . . . please I didn’t mean to, sir.”’
    William looked at them with an air of superior pity.
    ‘Yes, I daresay you thought I was frightened,’ he said, and added darkly, ‘you see you din’t hear what I said to him in his study afterwards. I guess,’ he
added with a short meaning laugh, ‘he’ll leave me alone after that.’
    The others were dumbfounded by this attitude. For a minute the sheer impudence of it deprived them of the power of speech. Ginger recovered first.
    ‘All right,’ he said, ‘we’re jus’ at his house now. All right, if you’re not frightened of him, go in. Jus’ go an’ ring at the door an’ tell
him you’re not frightened of him.’
    ‘He knows,’ said William simply.
    But they were closing him in around the gate, preventing his further progress down the road.
    ‘Well go in an’ tell him again,’ said Douglas, ‘case he’s forgot.’
    William, at bay, looked up at Mr Markson’s house, inappropriately termed The Nest. He wished that he had not made his gesture of defiance in its immediate vicinity. Then a cheering thought
occurred to him.
    ‘An’ I would, too,’ he said, striking a heroic attitude. ‘An’ I would ’f he was at home. But he’s at school. He’s at school till six o’clock
today.’
    ‘All right, go an’ walk into his house an’ take somethin’ jus’ to show you aren’t frightened of him,’ said Ginger.
    ‘That’d be stealin’,’ said William piously.
    ‘You could take it back afterwards,’ said Douglas. ‘You aren’t fright’ned of him, so it’d be all right.’
    ‘No, I’m not goin’ to,’ said William.
    Henry crowed triumphantly.
    ‘You’re fright’ned of him,’ they jeered.
    Suddenly William’s blood was up. When William’s blood was up things happened.
    ‘All right,’ he said. ‘I’ll – I’ll show you.’
    Without waiting to consider his decision in the calm light of reason he went boldly up to the front door. There his courage began to fail. He knew that no power on earth would nerve his arm to
knock on the ogre’s dreaded front door. But there was a drawing-room to the right of the door. One of the French windows leading from this drawing-room on to the drive was open.
    The drawing-room seemed to be empty. Steeling his heart and spurring his flickering courage by the thought of his jeering friends without, William plunged into the room, seized the first thing
he saw, plunged out, and with a beating heart and unsteady knees ran down the drive to join the little crowd of boys gaping through the gate of The Nest.
    His panic left him as he neared safety and his swagger returned. He held out his booty on one hand. It was a small and (though William did not know it) very valuable Chinese figure of a god.
    ‘There!’ he said. ‘I’ve been in his drawing-room and fetched that.’
    They gazed at him speechless. William had once again consolidated his position as leader.
    ‘Sorter pot thing out of his drawin’-room,’ he explained carelessly. ‘D’you think I’m afraid of him now ?’ he ended with a short derisive
laugh.
    Henry found his voice. ‘Well, you’ve gotter put it back now,’ he said, ‘an’ – an’ p’raps that won’t be ’s easy ’s takin’
it.’
    ‘’F you think it was easy takin’ it—’ began William indignantly.
    But at that moment a tall figure – ferocious-looking even in the distance – appeared at the end of the lane.
    William had been wrong. Mr Markson was not staying at school till six.
    By the time Mr Markson reached the gate of The Nest, William and his friends were mere specks on the horizon.
    In the safe refuge of his bedroom William took the Chinese figure out of his pocket and looked at it distastefully. He didn’t know how to get the beastly thing back, and
he was sure there’d be a fuss if he didn’t get the beastly thing back, and he wished he’d never taken the beastly thing, and he blamed Douglas and Ginger and Henry for the whole