William The Outlaw Read Free

came out an’ then I ran out after them, and
I’m absolutely wore out with runnin’ out after them an’ I’ve not caught one.
    ‘Let’s go down to the river,’ said Ginger, ‘I’m jus’ about sick of messin’ about here. There isn’t anything to do here, ’cept eat
roots, an’ I’ve had enough of that.’
    ‘No,’ said William firmly, ‘we’ve gotter stay up here. If we go down an’ they start comin’ out to fetch us home they’ll overpower us easy. It’s a
– a sort of vantage ground up here. We can see ’em comin’ up here an’ escape or throw things down on ’em.’
    ‘Well, I’m sick of stayin’ up here,’ said Ginger.
    ‘Think of ’em,’ said William tactfully, ‘doin’ G’omtry at school.’
    At this the Outlaws’ discontent faded and their spirits rose.
    ‘Hurrah!’ said Ginger, who now had completely forgotten his taste, ‘and I bet we can easy make up a game to play here an’—’
    ‘ Look! ’ gasped Douglas suddenly, pointing down into the valley.
    The Outlaws looked.
    Then they stood motionless as if turned to stone.
    There was no doubt about it.
    Down in the valley coming along the path that led up to Ringers’ Hill could be seen the figures of the headmaster and the second master.
    For some moments horror and surprise robbed the Outlaws of the power of speech.
    Then William said:
    ‘ Crumbs! ’ but no words could describe the tone in which he said it.
    ‘They’re – they’re comin’ after us,’ gasped Ginger.
    ‘Smith must have told him where we’d gone,’ gasped Henry.
    Ginger, recovering something of his self-possession, turned to William.
    ‘I said you din’ oughter’ve told him,’ he said with spirit.
    ‘B-but,’ gasped William, still paralysed with amazement, ‘how’d he know we’re Outlaws an’ never goin’ back?’
    ‘Prob’ly Smith heard us sayin’ it,’ said Ginger. ‘Well, it’s a nice set-out, isn’t it? What we goin’ to do? Fight him?’
    Even William’s proud spirit quailed at the thought of doing that.
    ‘If – if only—’ he began.
    Then his speech died on his lips. His mouth dropped open again. His eyes dilated with horror and amazement. Behind the figure of the headmaster and second master came other figures – the
mathematical master, the gym master, three or four prefects.
    ‘They’re all comin’!’ gasped William, ‘they’re comin’ to take us by force. They – they’re goin’ to surround the hill and take us by
force.’
    ‘Crumbs!’ said Ginger again. ‘ Crumbs! ’
    ‘What’ll we do?’ gasped Douglas.
    They looked at William and into William’s freckled face came a set look of purpose.
    ‘Well, we’ve gotter do something ,’ he said. He scowled ferociously, then a light flashed over his face. ‘I know what we’ll do. Smith must jus’ simply
have told ’em “Ringers’ Hill”. That’s what we told him, “Ringers’ Hill”. Well, you remember the signpost thing at the bottom of the hill with
“Ringers’ Hill” on it?’
    Yes, they remembered it – a wobbly, decrepit affair at the bottom of the hill.
    William’s face was now fairly gleaming with his idea.
    ‘Well,’ he said, ‘you remember it was all loose in its hole? I bet if we pushed hard we could push it right round so’s the ‘Ringers’ Hill’ pointed right
on up the other hill. An’ I bet they don’ know this part ’cause they don’t live here an’ they never come here so I bet – well, let’s try anyway, an’
we’d better be jolly quick.’
    Behind their leader they scrambled down the hillside to the signpost.
    ‘Now push !’ directed William.
    The Outlaws pushed.
    The signpost rocked in its hole and – joy! – slowly pivoted round in obedience to the Outlaws’ straining weight. The solitary arm bearing the legend ‘Ringers’
Hill’ now pointed to the hill in the opposite direction.
    The Outlaws’ spirits rose.
    They gave a cautious muffled cheer.
    ‘Now quick , back again to the