Dick or the Doctor? An Australian story

Front matter

THE STANDARD WORK ON AUTHORSHIP The Author's Manual A Complete, Practical Guide to all Branches of Journalism, Literary Work generally, and Book-producing, with Special Advice in Reference to Imaginative Literature. By Percy Russell. Crown 8vo, cloth, 5s. (Fifth Edition, New aud Revised.) SPECIAL NOTICE. The New and Revised Edition contains Prefatory Remarks by the RIGHT HON. W. E. GLADSTONE, M.P., who has read and approved the volume. "The aspirant to literature may certainly read Mr Russell's book with profit. ' — Spectator. " Mr. RuBsell has got up his subject with much care, and supplies a great deal of useful information. His advice and suggestions are sound and to the point." — Graphic. " Cordially recommending Mr Russell's vade mecum.^— Literary W&rld. Miss M. E. Braddon writes:— "Your counsel both to the journalist and the imaginative writer is full of wisdom."

LONDON : DIGBY, LONG & CO., 18 Bouverie Street, Fleet Street, E.C. AN AUSTRALIAN STORY BY REX RAYNOR LONDON DIGBY, LONG & CO., PUBLISHERS 18 BOUVERIE STREET, FLEET STREET, E.C. CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE I. — Two Estimable Young Men, 1 II. — From Bad to Worse, 13 III. — The New Medico, 20 IV. — Those Eligible Maidens 28 V.— Old Sam 34 VI. — Home for the Holidays, 39 VII. — Sohoolboys' Table-Talk, 48 VIII.— The Lambkin in his Element, 52 IX. — An Exciting Chase, 56 X. — In the Surgery, 63 XL — A Dental Operation, 71 XII. — Granny Deely and her Nephew, ... 75 XIII. — An Evening at Oakdale,. . . ... 85 XIV. — A Queer Patient, ... . ... 86 XV. — Blood-Poisoning, ... . ... 90 XVI.— A Lively Drive, 97 XVII. — Native Delicacies, 101 XVIII.— More Trials for Sawny, 106 XIX.— The Sleeping Opossum, . ' 110 XX. — The Christmas Decorations, . . . . .115 XXI.— "That Cheatin' Female," 121 XXII. — A Chat on the Grass 126 XXIII. — Preparing for a Picnic 136 XXIV. — A Dying Confession 145 XXV. — A Glance at the Absentee, 151 XXVI. — Bulli Mount, 156 XXVII. — Sawny in the Water and out of It, . . . 160 XXVIII.— Another Mishap, CONTENTS.

PAGE CHAP. 169 XXIX. —The Homeward Journey, ■•*'"»« XXX.— Old Sam in Trouble, ..-■•* 176 XXXI.— A Curious Wedding, . . - - * 180 ** 1 OO XXXIT.— A More Curious Honeymoon, • • * la" XXXIIL— Ronald versus Richard, XXXIV— Young Wakefield's Closing Hours, . ■ 199 XXXV— A Vision, 205 XXXVI.— Granny's Attentions to the Old Sexton, . .209 XXXVII.— A Lonely Funeral 215 XXXVIII. — Fannie's Visit to the Jacksons, . • • • 219 XXXIX.— Some Very Original Poetry, . • • -229 XL. — Sawny's Moonlight Adventures, . • ■ 237 XLI. — Domestic Skirmishes, ...... 246 XLIL— The Wooing o' It, 252 XLIII. — A Distressing Night for Edith, .... 259 XLIV. — Richard Gentle's Movements, .... 266 XLV. — Edith's Dilemma, 272 XLVL — The Effects of Granny Deely's Honeymead, . 279 XLVII.— "Thim Beautiful Varrses," . . . .286 XL VIII.— The End of the Holidays, 294 XLIX.— Edith at Picton, 300 L. — Richard's New Sphere of Employment, . . 305 LI. — A Sad Event at Oakdale, ..... 309 LII. — Easter Episodes, 313 LIII. — Mortality amongst the Cats, .... 319 LIV. — The Meeting Between Father and Son, . . 325 LV. — Richard once more a Rover, .... 334 LVI. — A few days with Sawny, 338 LVII. — Another Letter from Richard, .... 347 LVIII. — Sawny's Engagement, 352 LIX.— The Two Tramps 358 LX. — An Inquest and its Consequences, . . . 366 LXI. — A Clandestine Meeting, 375 LXII.— A Vile Scheme Frustrated 380 LXIII. — In Attendance at Court, 387 LXIV. — Surprising Revelations, 393 LXV. — Conclusion DICK, OR THE DOCTOR?

Chapter I. Two Estimable Young Men

" I'm sorry I can't help you, dear boy ; never was so short of the needful before; 'pon my honour," said a young man, sympathetically, to his companion, as they sat smoking together, one evening, in a student's room at college. On the table lay a handsomely-mounted meerschaum pipe, a tobacco-canister, and a well-worn pack of cards ; while a tell-tale odour of brandy, mingling with the perfume of cigar-smoke, pervaded the room. They were both gentlemanly-looking fellows ; though their countenances wore the unmistakable traces of lives ill-spent and devoted to dissipation in its worst forms. A money-lending Jew had been recently pressing for an instalment of interest on an old-standing account, and had threatened all sorts of evil consequences, if it were not forthcoming by the morrow. How to meet this annoy ing individual was their present subject of discussion.

"How much does he want, Dick ; or rather, how little will he take1!" " Nothing less than a tenner, the old skinflint ! He A DICK, OK THE DOCTOR ? swore, by all the names in the Hebrew Talmud, that he'd have his ' ten pounds monish,' or ." " Humph ! Deuced awkward just now." "By Jove, it is awkward; couldn't have come at a worse time, for I'm in bad odour with the Warden ; hang it ! Got caught twice after hours last week, in town, with some pals." " Whew ! Did he twig what sort they were ? " "Did that; had me into the den next morning; gave me a homily on the sins of young men, told me, I, a divinity student, ought to set a better example to the rest, and threatened me with expulsion if the game were repeated. That's what's kept me so quiet lately. Didn't you wonder what had become of me? I've not been out of college bounds, after hours, for five nights ; think of that, now."

" Take my advice, and don't go out for another five, Dick, or matters will become serious. You've been going in a perisher this term, you know." " Hang the advice now, old man ; it's too late ; besides, that kind of thing doesn't come well from Will Wakefield, of all fellows. What I want to be told is, how to shunt this Jew. You can't possibly let me have a fiver, even ? " " Not half of it, worse luck ! Haven't a note to call my own, and sha'n't have till the end of the month. I'm overdrawn too far now." " Then, all I can say is, I'm in as nice a little mess, at present, as ever a poor devil at college was, yet." " Considering that the poor devil in question is going in for the church, and has the dignity of a divinity student to keep up, eh? Dick, my boy, I pity you. 'Pon my word, I do ! But I say, what's stopped you from going in for that divinity scholarship this term ?

Frightened ? Your governor's a parson ; he ought to have rubbed enough theology into you to make it as easy as falling off a log to collar that fifty quid again." " Forgotten most of it, old man ; only remember about enough to curse Jews with, and swear at you for a Job's comforter." " Hadn't you better have a shot for it, though ? It'll look queer if you don't. The old boy will be asking nasty questions ; wanting to know why his clever son is not distinguishing himself at least in theology, to say nothing of classics or mathematics ; and, if he pushes his inquiries too far, the fat'll be in the fire, I'm thinking." At this stage of the conversation, a knock came to the door, and, in obedience to a loud summons to come in, a college servant opened it, and informed Mr Richard Gentle that the Warden desired to see him.

" What's in the wind now, I wonder ! " muttered the young man as he rose to go to the well known study, the scene of many a serious discourse between Warden and student. " Wait till I come back, Will ! " he requested, and immediately disappeared. During his absence, we will present to the reader the exact situation of affairs. Richard Gentle was a student, resident within one of the affiliated colleges of the Sydney University. His father was a country clergyman, in charge of Appin, a quiet little parish some forty miles, or so, from the city. The old gentle man had educated him, thus far, with a view to his eventually entering the ministry ; and as Richard had, from his childhood, exhibited a more than ordinary intelligence, not a little parental pride was felt in him ; while great things were anticipated as to his futui-e. Being an only son, and having no sisters to share his parents' affections, lie had met with more indul gence from both of them than was good for him, the natural selfishness of his disposition having beeu, thereby, strengthened rather than checked.

Owing to his ex cellent home tuition, the young man had matriculated with first-class honours ; and, had he chosen afterwards to work with even ordinary diligence, his subsequent career at the university would have, doubtless, been a distinguished one. But he was as indolent as he was selfish, and, when left to his own devices, neglected study. He, unhappily, also, showed too much interest, as tiuie went on, in pursuits little calculated to improve either his talents or his reputation. But of that fact ? 4 the folks at home were ignorant ; so that their surprise was great, as well as painful, on learning, at the end of his first year, that he had failed to take any honours, first-class or second ; and was, moreover, low down in the list of even the ordinary passmen. Greater and more painful yet was their surprise, when informed that the close of his second year was distinguished by a " pluck."

Mr Gentle, disgusted as well as disappointed, threatened to immediately take him from college, and send him into an office ; but well-feigned repentance, coupled with many promises of amendment, induced the former to reconsider his threat, and, finally, to give him another year's trial. For a time the delinquent applied himself to study, and at the end of the next year did fairly well. Confidence was thereby restored. Now he was entering upon the last year, preparatory to taking his B.A. degree. Unfortunately, he had formed several acquaintances that were no help to him. Amongst these was one named William Wakefield, whom the opening scene of our story has introduced. This in dividual, who resided in the city, was a young man of dissolute habits possessing no occupation and a too well-filled purse.

Having found Richard an adept in vice and extravagance, he had become his constant com panion. He frequently visited him at college, on which occasions, studies were readily given up for cigars, brandy and cards. There was one thing, however, that served to check, to a certain extent, the dissipations of young Wakefield. He was the victim of a weak constitution. The elements of that fell disease, con sumption, had shown their existence two years before, and warned him that an early death would be the con sequence of continuing the excessive courses he had, hitherto, followed. He had left the old country, in order to recruit his strength, but, in spite of the warning, the health-famed climate of Australia was being sorely handicapped in his restoration. " Well, what's the row about, this time ?

" said he, as his companion returned to the room after half-an-hour's absence. " Oh, nothing much — nothing near so bad, at all events, as I expected. Mostly about that scholarship we were speaking of. I'll have to go in for it, if it's only for appearances' sake." " I should think so ; but what in the world are you afraid of? You've always got it before." " Yes, old man, but it's been a simple walk over, so far. I, being the only divinity fellow here, have had to pass a merely nominal exam., and the cash was mine. Now, a new chap has come, who, if accounts be true, has read more parsonical productions, in Latin, Greek and Hebrew, than I have, even in the vulgar tongue ; and he's a poor wretch too, they say ; wants the money to help him through the Uni." " Oh, that's it, is it 1 Perhaps they'll split it, and give you twenty-five each."

" No such luck. I've had it two years, and have not proved such a credit to the character of divinity-scholar as to induce them to do that, I'm certain." " Well, no ; I daresay not. But, if you've no show, -why go into the exam, at all ? You're not compelled, are you ? " " No, but I'm deuced nearly expelled, let me tell you, and must do it to satisfy the Warden and blind the old man at home. I've had such a pleasant little chat in the den that my good sense tells me nothing will save me from expulsion, exposure, and I don't know what, unless I make a show of work, for some time to come." " Well, I think it's about time you did make a show, and something more than a show. Why not try a little real work, you lazy dog ? By Jove, if I had a head piece like that bumpy cranium of yours, I'd run some of the fellows close for honours, I know.

As it is, I'm going to put the brake on, and stop this after-dark business. It's not improving my moral, physical, or pecuniary condition ; and yours is getting on a par, if not worse, especially the moral, Dick. Blest if I don't think you can beat me at high jinks, and that's saying a good deal. Anyhow, if you've got any sense left, you'll go easy for a bit." ? "Thanks for the speech, old man, particularly the moral part of it. But, hang it ! I think I can recollect enough of New Testament and copy-book instruction to quote a text apropos : ' Evil communications corrupt good manners.' Moral ! you and I had better part com pany. Do you twig ? " " Why ! what's disturbed your bile in that lot, dear boy, to make you talk of parting company ? I meant no offence." " Well, let me tell you once for all, it riles me, con siderably, when you begin to turn parson, and preach.

The character doesn't suit you, and the sermon doesn't come with a very good grace from a fellow that's had the chief hand in a chap's other training." " Too much like a doctor's trick — making a patient first, and then setting to work to cure him, eh ? But, joking aside, you needn't turn sneak and throw all the blame and responsibility on me for your little goings on. What Dick Gentle didn't know of the way about town, long enough before William Wakefield met him, wasn't worth learning, I reckon. So don't sham innocence ; I can't stand that any more than you can preaching. The fact is we're both a pretty knowing pair of chicks, and have let each other into a thing or two, now and then." " Well, so be it ! only keep off the tack you've just started, if you want to preserve friendship." " Right you are, my boy.

Only, I can't help re marking that your chances of becoming a parson don't look over promising, to my view. If you're funking at a bit of an exam, like this, what you'll do, when you've got to face ordination ones, licks me." " To tell you the truth, Will, I don't intend, if I can avoid it, to go in for the church at all. I've enough understanding of the fitness of things to make me think that, if I did go in for the white-choker pro fession, I shouldn't be quite an ornament to it, d'ye see ? But I'm off that lay, if possible ; too many re strictions for this child." " What's the idea, then, after you get your degree 1 " " The idea ? Five hundred a year, and nothing to do. That's my lay if I can work it." " How ? Trot it out, Dick ! I always knew you had a secret. Is it a girl ? " " Just so !

It is a girl, and as fine a specimen of feminine beauty as ever you clapped eyes on." " You dog, never to let on till now ! Who is she ? Where is she ? What is she ? Let's hear all about her. You know my weakness." " Ha, ha, ha ! See how he bites when there's a female in question ! She's miss So-and-so, old man. She's where she ought to be, with her feet under her father's mahogany. Last, but not least, she's the eldest daughter of an old buffer worth nothing short of one hundred thousand pounds sterling." " Thanks ! That's clear — clear as mud. Means that Dick doesn't intend to trust his friend with too much information on the subject. Afraid he might use it to his disadvantage. Eh ? Been running him, perhaps ? Knows how to repay such unlimited confidence at all events." " You're all out of it, Will.

I'd trust you before any fellow I know ; but the fact is, I wouldn't for the world have it come to her ears, any more than to the gover nor's, that I'm jacking up on the parson-profession. You see, we're almost engaged ; there's an under standing between us now, which is to last till I take deacon's orders. Then a year's real engagement is to follow ; and the moment I am ' priested ' we can marry, if so minded." " Lucky dog ! But it's a lively prospect for the maiden, if you're not going to carry out the nice little scheme. Will she stick to her part in the arrange ment, think you, if you don't to yours ? " " That remains to be seen. I'll make the experiment, anyhow." " Supposing her heart's set on being a parson's wife, and nothing else will satisfy her, what's your programme then 1 Will you waive objections and don the clerical costume to secure her ?"

" Rather ! she fetches a cool ten thousand by way of dowry. Interest on that means, at the smallest reckon ing, as I hinted before, five hundred a year ! Too good a prize to let slip altogether, for any paltry scruples about a profession. I'd like to shirk the Reverend, d'ye see ? But, if needs must, I'll get ordained." " What a pretty parson you'll make, Dick ! " "Think so? The old man's of the same opinion. By Jove, I believe he counts upon me, with all my faults, becoming a prominent church dignitary some day." " Take care, then, you don't get a bobby's hands laid upon you before the bishop's ! " " Now, then, stow that ! " " Jove, how shy we are to-night of the counsel of the wise ! but, I say, however have you managed to hood wink the girl and her people as well as your governor ? You must have played awfully deep for them not to scent out some of your little games."

" Well, when I went back one year without my feathers, I reckon they did suspect something crooked. The old man asked me, straight out, whether bad company was interfering with my studies." " Of course, you told him you favoured the very best?" " Well, you see, I didn't know Will Wakefield then ; so it was no lie to say so." " Thanks ! that's one I'll owe you. Compliments are flying to-night." " We're quits now, then. That was one for the moral touch you gave me awhile ago." " All right, go on ! I suppose you're awfully good at home." "You've hit it, to a stroke, in that remark. I just am good — a very paragon of virtue, I can tell you — a model son ! You ought to see me conduct a Bible class, or read the lessons in church for the governor, some times ! You'd take me for a sucking-parson. Last vacation, I held a cottage-service and preached a sermon of my own."

" Oh, save us ! I wish I'd been there. I'll swear it -was a long one ; for you've certainly got the gift of the gab, Dick." "Yes, I think I have. At all events, I can talk religion, by the yard, when it's wanted, and the beauty of it is, they swallow it all so innocently, from the old man to the maiden." " I reckon I've learnt our girl's address, in the last few remarks. Her father's a neighbour of the Reverend Nicholas Gentle, if I'm not mistaken. Consequently, she and Mr Richard Gentle have had many nice little opportunities for developing a more than ordinary acquaintance." " Good for you, Will. But, Jove ! I'm thinking, if I've got the spouting gift of a parson, you've got the ferreting talent of a lawyer." " I believe I have, then. Hang it ! I've missed my vocation, and that's a fact, in not going in for the legal profession, as my pater wanted me to.

Between you and me and the lamp post, I've been an awful fool in my time. The old man spared no expense in my educa tion till the day he died ; and I never saw disappointment and sorrow in a woman's face as it showed in the mater's, when I came to grief in the old country. Poor old party, if I had the same chances again, I'd act differently. This drinking-and-larking game doesn't pay, after all." " Here, shut up ! You're feeling the effects of that last nip of brandy. What about this confounded Jew ? Try and suggest something ; I'm clean stumped for an idea this time." " Why don't you write to your governor ; you're good at inventing ! Tell him some cock-and-bull story about wanting a little extra tin for cricket club subscriptions, or a testimonial, or something of that sort." " I've worked that pump already ; got a second fiver out of the old chap, last term, by that very dodge."

" What's to prevent you working it again? Is he low in funds ? " " Awfully low — sucked dry, in fact. I almost pitied the old buffer, he wrote such a deuced mournful letter ? about his big over-draft and small screw. And, what's more, he gave me to understand, pretty plainly, that I'd have to give up athletic and all other clubs, if they continued to cost so much." " Jove ! That's a joke ! How much do cricket or football really get out of you in a year, Dick." "About a note between them ; not more." "No, I'll swear they don't. Less than that would cover all the fees you've paid this year." " Haven't forked out a cent, this year or last, if it comes to that." " Old Cohen has had all spare cash, I suppose ? How much do you owe him ? " " Not such a great deal ; but the wretch charges about sixty per cent, interest, at the vsry least.

That's what ruins a fellow. I can't get a note of the principal off. One night last term, yon remember, I paid him ten yellow-boys ? That was all interest, every cent." " Guess I do remember ! Five of those same yellow-boys I lent you ; didn't I ? By-the-bye, old fellow, that makes about twenty-quid you owe me, now ; doesn't it ? But never mind, don't apologize. When I'm hard pressed, I'll ask you for them. I'm not a Jew, either, so the interest's not swelling that little bill. " Thanks, Will ; you're a trump. If ever I can do you as good a turn, depend upon it, I will." " Introduce me to a certain pretty maiden with the handsome dowry, or her sister, if she has one, and I'll forgive the lot ; there, now." " Right you are ! That's a bargain, But, blow me, if we're a bit nearer settling the present difficulty.

And listen,* Will, I hav'n't told you all the little games I've tried already, and I don't mind making a confidant of you ; you're no informer. Those five sovs. I plumped down so cockily along with your little loan that night, were not mine, by rights." "No! Where did you nab them? I thought you won them on that horse Bently was going to ride." "I didn't, then; but Bently 's sudden "death was the luckiest thing imaginable for me. If he hadn't got kicked and killed stone dead, without the chance of a dying confession, Dick Gentle would have been in quod at this present moment, instead of enjoying a good cigar in his room." " Good heavens ! You don't mean it. What game had you been at ? " " I simply manipulated a cheque ; that was all." " Whew ! That was a bold trick. Whose was it ? " " Well, the owner was Bently.

His boss had signed it — given it him for wages, I suppose. However, he handed it to me between the races, and asked me to get it cashed on the course for him. The amount was for six pounds only ; but, by the addition of four letters to the word and a stroke to the left of the figure, the little bit of paper suddenly became ten pounds more valuable, do you twig ? It's an old dodge ; requires care, though. Although I have heard of a fellow succeeding in cash ing a cheque that had been added to in another coloured ink ; and that, too, at the bank on which it was drawn." " Did you have no trouble with the one you touched up? " "None whatever. The signature of Bently's boss was too well-known for any doubt about its value. Ten notes that little transaction gave me, in about as many minutes. The jockey got his own six, all the same ; and, a few minutes after, the poor devil was knocked into a cocked hat, as you remember, by that wretch of a horse he was going to mount for the next race.

But it's an ill wind that blows nobody any good, they say. By Jove, his accident stood me in well, for he got the blame of having made the alteration." " Was it you, then, that started that yarn about Bently's forgery 1 Now I come to think of it, there was something of that sort discussed after the accident ; and then it was hushed up. It was a mean trick, if you did, to say the least of it. One I wouldn't think you capable of, to tell you the truth." " It was a bit mean, I admit ; but what was a fellow to do, under the circumstances ? " " Do ? Well, anything rather than blacken the name of a square chap like he was." " Oh, as to that, a blackened or whitened one couldn't affect him much after he was dead." " No, perhaps not ; rather nasty for the relatives, though ; hanged if I admire the stroke a bit."

" I'd better not have told you, then." "Don't be afraid; I'm no sneak, to go and split about it ; though I do regard it as a dirty bit of work. But whatever possessed you to do it ? " " Don't know, except that I was mad with drink and pretty big losses that day." " I think you must have been. None but a madman would have run the risk. How did you expect to get clear, supposing Bently had lived ; he would have denied the trick and exposed you, sure as fate ? " " No doubt. It would have been simply a case of word against word. I'd have denied, likewise." " And you'd have come off second best, for, jockey though he was, Bently's reputation was a good one ; not an honester fellow on the course than that chap." " Just so. Suppose we change the subject. What's the time ? " " Nearly ten by my ticker."

"Whew! Is it so late as that? We must be off; doors '11 be closed in a few minutes." " Are you going out to-night ? " " Guess I am. Tattersall's or the Scandinavian will be honoured with a visit from this child before another hour's done." " Isn't it risky ? Suppose you're spotted ? " " Can't help it. Must rake in a few dollars from somewhere. It's a toss up, seems to me, whether, after all, I get the dirty-kick-out from here through broken college rules, or old Cohen. At all events, there's no chance of raising a note in this shop to-night ; and I might, by good luck, pocket a few at cards or billiards. So, as it's Hobson's choice, let's go. Here, there's a nip a-piece left in the bottle. Let's drink to the success of Dick Gentle, divinity-student, future Bishop and Metropolitan of Timbuctoo."

Chapter II

from bad to worse. With the little performance last described, the scene, in which the two worthies had figured for an hour or so, closed, and, together, they departed for the city. It will be needless to do more than briefly relate what subsequently occurred at the place they visited. In less than an hour, they were in the society of some very questionable characters, indulging in the exciting occupation of gambling. Richard was altogether unsuccessful ; and, as the hours passed, became more and more intoxicated and reckless, till, losing all caution, he plunged hopelessly into the mire of debt ; his night's excesses reducing him, in the end, to the condition of an utterly degraded, helpless-looking debauchee. At daylight the company broke up, and the miserable young man, sick at head and heart, once more directed his unsteady steps towards the college, hoping to enter unseen, soon after the doors were opened.