"They have stolen our clothes!" shouted Ben Ludlow, who was the first to discover the mischief that had been done.
"Shall we steal theirs if we can get hold of them?" asked Dory.
"We can't get hold of them," replied Ben, who was not disposed to renew the former discussion.
"Perhaps we can; we know where they are, and all we have to do is to go and take them," added the coxswain, with a smile and a shrug of the shoulders.
"But the fellows have them on," Ben objected.
"That has nothing to do with the right and wrong of the question," continued Dory.
"I think we had better get back our own clothes before we talk of stealing theirs," said Ben. "I am cold now I have come out of the water, and I want my shirt and trousers."
"We are all in the same pickle," laughed Dory, as he glanced at the boats of the Chesterfields.
The collegiate gentlemen seemed to be afraid the Beech Hillers would not know what had become of their garments, and they were flaunting them in the air as a matter of information to their rivals. And they seemed to be enjoying the situation hugely, and the shouts of derision and the roars of laughter came across the waters thick enough to stir up all the bad blood in the veins of the Winooskis.
"We are in a pretty fix," exclaimed Phil Gawner, as he extended his arms as an athlete would exhibit his muscles.
The principal required every student to wear trunks when he bathed, and was very strict in enforcing the rule. When the second class came out of the water, they were certainly in uniform, though it was rather unique in style. It was a cool day, and cooler on the shore than it was in the water. Most of the boys began to shiver as they stood on the beach, and the situation was very uncomfortable as well as very annoying, so far as the proprieties of society were concerned.
"I shall freeze to death," said Lick Milton, his teeth chattering like those of a person with the ague.
"So shall I! And we shall all catch our death of cold," added Jim Alburgh.
"I have one cold now, and I shall have another on top of it," shivered Corny Minkfield.
"All the crew in the boat!" shouted Dory, with a vim that showed he was determined to do something.
"All aboard!" cried half a dozen others, as they tumbled into the barge.
Half the crew were required to shove her off before they took their places; but in a minute they were all afloat, wondering what the brisk coxswain intended to do.
"We can get warm if we can't do anything else," said Dory, as he took the tiller lines in his hands, "Up oars! Shove off! Let fall! Give way!" The last order was given when the boat had been shoved clear of the sands of the beach, and had come about so that it was headed out into the lake.
The unclothed rowers bent to their oars, and the Winooski began to spin through the water. The exercise was in the highest degree exhilarating under the circumstances. Dory had the worst of it for he had no oar to pull; but he swayed his body with more than usual vigor, and the wind of the crew was not likely to last a great while under the rapid movements required of them.
The coxswain shook up his frame and muscles all he could, and he soon ceased to shiver. A couple of minutes were enough to send a glow through the veins of the rowers, and they were soon as warm as though they had been clothed in their overcoats.
The Dasher and the Racer continued to flaunt their banners in the air, and to send their shouts of derision over the water, until the Winooski had reached her highest speed. Very likely Wash Barker and Mad Twinker had some idea of the rapidity with which the Beech Hill barge was approaching them. At any rate they hauled down their banners, and got their oars into the water.
In spite of their present semi-nude condition, the Winooskis were still under the influence of the usual discipline, and they did not attempt to look behind them, or otherwise to inquire into the movements of the Chesterfields. But the coxswain knew that the curiosity of a boy is almost as strong as his love of fun, and he was in the habit of giving his companions all the information that would interest them.
"The Chesterfields have taken down the clothes and are pulling with all their might to keep out of our reach," said he, when he was warm enoughto use his organs of speech without stammering.
"That is not saying much," replied Life Windham.
"We shall overhaul them in about three minutes," added Dory.
"What then, Dory?" asked Ben Ludlow, but his wind was so nearly gone that he could hardly speak.
"I don't know, that depends," answered the coxswain.
"If they don't choose to give us back our clothes, I don't see that we can do anything," said Life Windham.
"Perhaps we can, we will see."
But Dory was very anxious in regard to the situation, and he found it very difficult to decide what to do. True to his antecedents, he wished to avoid a quarrel, or even a dispute, with the members of the Collegiate Institute. If he went near them there was sure to be trouble; but it would be impossible to recover the clothes without approaching them.
There were only two courses open to him: one was to return to Beech Hill with his naked crew, and the other was to confront the Chesterfields;and a meeting might result in their being obliged to go back to the other side of the lake in their present novel uniform. It would be humiliating to return in a state of nature, and to encounter the derision of the first class.
Was it necessary for him to submit to every indignity without resistance in order to avoid a quarrel? Must his crew submit to being robbed of their clothes rather than stand up for their rights? Must they abandon their property rather than make an effort to reclaim it,—rather than run the risk of a quarrel?
Dory decided these questions in the negative very promptly. His religion was stalwart enough to make him believe there was such a thing as carrying even meekness too far. If there proved to be a quarrel, he should go into it with clean hands, having done nothing to provoke it; and what was true of himself personally was true of every member of his crew. Not one of them had uttered a jeer or a taunt in the hearing of the assailants. They had minded their own business in the fullest sense of the phrase; and whatever happened they were not to blame.
The boys were warm and comfortable by this time, and the coxswain had greatly reduced therapidity of the stroke. The rowers had regained their breath, and were watching the anxious face of Dory with the most intense interest. There were twenty-six of the Chesterfields, which was double their own number, and to get their clothes by force did not look like a hopeful enterprise to any of them. But the Gildrocks were not far off, and their assistance could be had for the asking.
"Now, fellows, we must overhaul those boats," said Dory in his usual quiet tone, when he had decided not to return to Beech Hill in their present uniform.
"What are you going to do, Dory?" asked Ben Ludlow curiously; and the same question was on the lips of every member of the crew.
"I intend to do whatever it may be necessary to do. We are going after our clothes, and we must get them the best way we can," replied the coxswain.
"But suppose they won't give them to us?" suggested Life Windham.
"The clothes belong to us, and we have urgent need of them at just this time. If they won't give them to us, we must take them, if we can," answered Dory.
"But we can't," added Phil Gawner.
"We can't tell till we try."
"Don't you think we had better call on the Gildrocks, and get them to help us?" Ned Bellows asked.
"That's the idea!" exclaimed Lick Milton. "Then we shall have as many fellows as they have."
"Do you see anything of the Gildrock?" inquired Dory with a smile.
"I don't see her, but she can't be far off," answered Lick, as all the crew cast their eyes over the lake astern of them.
"I think she has gone into Rock Harbor," said Jim Alburgh. "The Gildrocks don't want to see us just yet, after the whipping they have had."
"If we go after the Gildrock it will be half an hour before we can get back here again. Those fellows will hide our clothes while we are gone, and I am not in favor of losing sight of them for a moment," added Dory.
"But what's the use of going ahead when we can't do anything if we come up with them?" said Ben Ludlow.
This question was discussed for the next few minutes; and it was plain that Ben Ludlow andseveral others had "no stomach for the fight" which they believed would grow out of a meeting with the Chesterfields. If there was going to be a fight, they wanted to be equal in numbers to the enemy; and they felt that the older and heavier fellows of the other boat would make an even thing of it.
For this reason they were not in favor of following up the Chesterfields until they were reinforced by the Gildrocks. This was the view of several of the crew, but the majority, whatever their opinion, were entirely willing to leave the whole matter to the plucky but prudent coxswain. He had always brought them out of all difficulties, and they were more disposed to trust him than to depend upon themselves. They were vigorous in their support of Dory, declared that they would obey orders whatever broke, and hoped he would do what he thought best.
Those who were anxious to follow their own views were compelled to yield the point, and they ceased to offer any further resistance. Ben Ludlow and the others who had been so desirous of getting even with the Collegiates were not so earnest as they had been. They were ready to"call names," and throw mud, but when it looked like a brush of another kind, their backs were not so stiff.
"Fellows, you have behaved first rate so far, and I hope you will do so to the end of this affair," said Dory, after all questions had been settled. "You kept still when I asked you to do so, and, whatever happens, we shall go in with clean hands. I don't know how we can settle this matter with those fellows, but I want you to be silent and let me do all the talking with them."
"All right, Dory: propel," replied Corny Minkfield; and the sentiment was promptly indorsed by all the others.
The coxswain began to increase the speed of the Winooski, which had already gained half the distance between the boats. In a few minutes she was within hail of the enemy.
The Chesterfields were struggling with all their might at their oars. They appeared to have no idea of the speed of the Winooski, and evidently entertained the idea that they could run away from her when they exerted themselves to the utmost. But Wash Barker and Mad Twinker, the coxswains, had apparently learned one thing: and this was that their crews could not handle the boats so well in rough as in smooth water.
The cove where they had stolen the clothes of the Beech Hill boys was at the narrowest part of the lake, where it was not more than a mile wide. Even here they had kept under the lee of the shore, and had been in very little troubled water. Half a mile below the cove was Northwest Bay, where the lake is four miles wide. The Chesterfield Collegiate Institute was on the north shore of the bay, near the point where the lake begins to contract its width.
There was silence on board of the Winooski, though the young gentlemen in the two barges were yelling as much as they could while exerting themselves at the oars. The latter were in great glee, and seemed to be in the highest enjoyment of the situation. Dory studied the movements of the two boats, and soon satisfied himself that their coxswains were hugging the northwest shore, so as to avoid the heavy sea, which prevailed at even less than half a mile from land. Dory decided to block this game, and he headed the Winooski to the windward of the enemy.
Such a contest could hardly be called a race, for the vastly superior pulling of the crew of the Winooski allowed her crew to have it all their own way. Though the Chesterfields did not yet understand it so, the Beech Hill boat could easily pull around them.
"Good, fellows! You are pulling first rate," said Dory, when the boat had obtained the position in which the coxswain wished to place her. "We are abreast and exactly to windward of them now."
"What is coming next, Dory?" asked Life Windham; and all the crew had an interest in the question.
"I don't know: it all depends upon circumstances," replied Dory. "Now pull your regular easy stroke; and we can readily beat them with that. Things will come to a head very soon."
The crew took the easy and graceful stroke indicated, but this produced a greater speed than the Chesterfields could make with their utmost exertion. Dory changed the course of the Winooski as she went ahead of the Racer, so that she would gradually approach the enemy.
In a few minutes it was evident that the Beech Hill boat would be in the water of the other boats, and Wash Barker headed his craft farther to the southward. This was just what Dory wanted him to do. He diminished the speed of the Winooski still more, and continued to crowd into the water of the Dasher until the latter was headed to the south, or out into the rough sea.
Wash Barker, who appeared to act as the commodore of the squadron,—Mad Twinker, in the Racer following his lead,—could not help seeing the result of these manœuvres, whether he comprehended their purpose or not. The white-caps were before him, and he knew that his crew made bad work in the waves. Already the Dasher was beginning to pitch, and the spray toswash in over her stern. But it looked to him just then as though, if he headed for the shore, the sharp bow of the Winooski would cut his craft into two pieces.
Wash tried several times to get out of the scrape, but the Beech Hill boat looked like a streak of lightning to him, and he did not want it to come any nearer to him. He was soon compelled to give it up as a bad job: his pursuer would allow him to go only to the southward. But Wash had brains if he didn't know much about handling a boat. The force of the waves was increasing every length he went in the present direction.
Dory heard him shout to Mad Twinker, but he could not understand what he said. A moment later the Dasher began to head more to the eastward, the Racer taking the same course. The commodore had evidently decided to get about in the opposite direction. Dory followed him up closely till the two barges were in the trough of the sea, and began to roll instead of pitching as before. The rowers on the lee side, as the boats careened in that direction, had their looms thrown out of the rowlocks. Some of them went over backwards, and some of them, in their efforts to save themselves, lost their oars overboard.
In a word, the crews of both the Chesterfield barges were in a fearful snarl. The boats continued to roll in the heavy waves, and Dory thought it not unlikely that his crew would be called upon to save the collegiate gentlemen from being drowned. Of course it was nothing but clumsiness which had reduced them to this extremity.
The crew of the Winooski were in a position to see all that occurred to the unfortunate barges; for Dory, as soon as he saw what Wash had intended to do, had come about in the opposite way from that taken by the other barges. When his boat was headed into the wind, he called upon the crew to lay upon their oars.
"That's a bad egg for them," said Life, chuckling at the misfortune of the enemy.
"There are three of their oars floating off into the lake," Phil Gawner added.
"Don't you think we had better go out and tow them in, Dory?" laughed Ned Bellows.
"Until they get overboard, we will continue to mind our own business; but if they need help we must do all we can for them," replied the coxswain. "While we are waiting we might as well run out and pick up their oars."
The orders were given to start again, and the Winooski dashed out into the heavy waves. Dory discovered two more oars which had been lost by the Racer. The two bowmen were directed to pick them up when they came to them, and the five were quickly secured. They were stowed away under the thwarts.
By this time the Chesterfield barges were in condition to make another effort to reach the shore, or to get into smooth water. Wash Barker was yelling at his crew, and striving to bring order out of confusion. Mad Twinker was doing the same in the Racer; though neither of them had any brilliant success. But at last they got the remnant of their oars into the water. Then it was found that the three oars had all been lost from the starboard side of the Dasher, and Wash proceeded to bring about an equilibrium in his propelling force.
When the Winooski had picked up the oars, Dory took her to a position between the barges and the shore. He did not regard the battle as ended; in fact it had hardly begun, though the coxswain considered his tactics a success thus far. After a great deal of loud talk on the part of the coxswains, and a great deal of "talking back" onthe part of the crews, the Chesterfields were in condition to resume their effort to reach the shore.
Just as soon as the Dasher began to move through the water, Wash found the sharp bow of the Winooski pointed towards his boat. He was afraid of it, and he allowed himself to be crowded off his course precisely as he had before. It took but a few minutes to put his boat into the trough of the sea again, and she began to roll in a manner very trying to the nerves of the inexperienced boatmen.
The Chesterfields held on to their oars this time, though they stopped rowing. But they did not stop rowing by order of the coxswain. In fact there was a mutiny in the Dasher. The crew ceased to pull of their own accord, and proceeded to pitch into the coxswain for getting them into a scrape a second time. But Wash was a gentleman of energy and decision, and in the matter of "jaw" he soon overcame his refractory crew, and got his boat headed to the shore again.
By this time he comprehended the tactics of the Beech Hill boat, and realized that Dory's purpose was to drive him into the rough water. He appeared to be in an angry frame of mind, and he cast savage glances at the Winooski. Dory continuedto ply his strategy of crowding the Racer off her course. But her coxswain had evidently decided not to be shoved off again, though it looked as though the Winooski would dash into her bow the next instant.
"Halloo, Tinkers!" shouted Wash; "If you don't keep out of my way I'll run into you."
Dory made no reply to this threat, though it was uttered in a very savage tone, as though the speaker meant all that he said. The Winooski continued on her course towards the Dasher, her naked crew pulling their steady stroke, but not one of them looking behind him to see when the crash was coming.
"Oars!" said the coxswain, in a low but very decided tone. "Hold water!"
At the first command the oarsmen poised their blades at right angles with the gunwale; at the second they dropped them into the water, holding them in this position with a firm grasp. The effect was to check the progress of the boat. But this did not stop the boat, as the coxswain desired to do.
"Stern all!" he added; and the crew began to pull backwards.
A couple of strokes were all that were necessaryto overcome the remaining headway of the barge, and she rested in the position Dory had chosen for her. Wash Barker was evidently very nervous, though he saw that the Winooski had come to a standstill. The stem of the latter was pointed at her at an angle of forty-five degrees, but she was not directly in the course of the Dasher. Wash thought he had space enough to pass to the eastward of her, and perhaps he concluded that his threat had been effective in stopping his rival.
"Clap on that head bunter, Thad!" called Dory to the bowman.
The article indicated was a kind of cushion covered with a network of small rope. It was used when the boat was in danger of striking her stem against any hard substance, as in boarding the steamer, or making a landing at a wharf. Thad Glovering put the bunter in position; and the call for it indicated to the crew that there was danger of a collision.
The bunter had no significance to Wash, who believed he had won a victory in bringing his opponent to a standstill. He kept his course, and fully expected to pass clear of the Winooski. Dory watched the Dasher with the utmost care,and it was plain enough that he intended to do something.
"You are doing first rate, fellows," said the coxswain, with his gaze fixed upon the Dasher. "Now is the time to remember what you have promised, and I want you to keep up the discipline clear to the handle."
"We won't slip up the hundredth part of an inch, Dory," replied Phil Gawner. "Propel!"
"Ready! Give way!" called Dory, after a pause of a moment. "But only two or three strokes!"
The crew gave a few vigorous strokes in perfect time, and doubtless Wash wondered what was coming next.
"Oars!" said the coxswain, sharply. "Hold water!"
The progress of the barge was checked when she was within ten feet of the Racer. Then Dory ordered his crew to give way again. The stem of the Winooski struck the bow of the Chesterfield barge.
There was no crash when the Winooski struck the Dasher, and Dory had intended there should be none, or at least nothing more than a smart rap. His crew anticipated something more than followed the contact of the two boats.
"Hold on, you Tinkers!" yelled Wash Barker, rising in his seat in the stern-sheets of his boat. "You are running into us. You will smash our boat all to pieces!"
But the collision did not realize his fears, though his conduct caused his crew to cease rowing. The Dasher was a couple of lengths astern of the commodore's barge, and the instant the mighty official yelled they all stopped pulling and looked behind them. The Winooskis felt the jar of the stroke, but not one of them turned his head, as they might have been excused for doing.
"Give way, fellows!" called Dory, in an energetic command, to the astonishment of his owncrew, and to the dismay of the coxswain of the Dasher.
But the crew of the Winooski obeyed the order, as they had promised to do, whatever broke. The command was given at the instant the two boats came together. The headway of the Dasher was checked, and the force with which the Beech Hill boat advanced carried her head around.
"Oars!" "Hold water!" "Stern all!" were the next commands of the coxswain of the Winooski, after he had set the Dasher to whirling in the waves.
The Chesterfield boat turned half around, so that she faced to the southward again. As soon as the Winooski had drawn back from her opponent, the crew lay upon their oars, the coxswain waiting for the issue of his last piece of strategy. He was evidently ready to do the same thing again, and Wash Barker began to look discouraged. His crew had held on to their oars when the boat was in the trough of the sea, but they had pulled them out of the water, or were trailing them alongside. At any rate they were in confusion, and the commodore could not extricate them from the dilemma.
Dory was patient, and his crew were in thehighest state of enjoyment when they realized that the gentlemen from the collegiate institute were completely "euchred." After a great deal of loud talking, and talking back,—for every rower appeared to be a voluntary coxswain, the crew of the Dasher got their oars into position in the water. They were ready to pull again; but the commander of the fleet was in doubt and dismay. He was headed for the open lake. His boats were pitching at a lively rate in the waves.
He could not go ahead, for that led him into the dashing sea. He could not come about, for the Winooski was sure to give him another whirl, and might smash his craft the next time. His crew were jawing and gesticulating at him; one telling him to do this, and another to do that. Dory gave his crew permission to witness the scene; and they could not help realizing the benefit, not to say the blessing, of good discipline. The bow of the Winooski was not more than a length from the stern of the Dasher, and the bowman of the Racer had fastened his boathook to the bow of her consort. The dismay of Mad Twinker in the other boat seemed to be as deep as that of his fellow officer, and he had no counsel to give.
There was a multitude of counsellors in the Dasher. Several of them advised the coxswain to run into the Winooski, and about all that could be heard in the snarl wanted to smash her. Wash Barker had brains, and he seemed to be aware that he could do nothing of the sort, for the reason that the cool coxswain of the enemy would not let him.
"I say, Tinkers!" shouted Wash, who had evidently concluded what to do.
Dory was as dignified as George Washington when his title was ignored, and he refused to answer while he and his companions were called by an offensive name. Wash hailed several times in the same strain without getting a reply. His crew seemed to be tired of yelling at him, and there was a silence in the barge after the coxswain had called a dozen times to his opponent.
"Winooski, ahoy!" shouted some one in the boat, who had perhaps learned from some sea novel how to hail another craft.
"On board the Dasher!" replied Dory.
"Are you all deaf there?" demanded Wash Barker angrily, when he discovered that his opponent had the power of speech; "I have been yelling at you for half an hour."
"We don't answer to the name of Tinkers, Greasers, Chip-makers, or anything of that sort," returned the coxswain of the Winooski.
"Oh, you don't!" sneered Wash, when Dory had, with a couple of strokes of the oars, placed the stern of the barge within a few feet of that of the Racer.
"We do not. You have our clothes in your boat, and I will trouble you to return them to us," added Dory.
"Don't give them up!" yelled a fellow in the bow of the Dasher.
"No, no!" shouted half a dozen others; "don't give them up!"
This looked like war, and things had a stormy aspect ahead. But Dory decided to pay no attention to anyone but the officer of the boat.
"Hold on to the clothes!" shouted the students in the Racer, when they understood what was going on.
The commodore of the squadron was thus fully informed in regard to the state of feeling in both his boats. Whatever his own view, he seemed to be unable to stand up against his companions.
"Our clothes were taken from the shore while we were in the water, and, as we need them verymuch, I will thank you to return them," continued Dory, repeating his request in what some of his crew considered a very "gingerly" tone.
"Don't give them up!" yelled a crowd from both boats.
"You can hear what our fellows say to your request," replied Wash in a more pliable manner than he had yet assumed.
"I speak to you as the coxswain in charge of the boat, and I am waiting for your reply," added Dory. "The clothes belong to us, and I think you can have no doubt that they ought to be returned to the owners."
"Why don't you talk up to him, Wash?" shouted a student in the bow of the Dasher.
"We can't all talk at once, and you fellows keep up such a jaw that I can't get in a word edgeways," retorted the coxswain of the Dasher petulantly, for he evidently felt the force of Dory's hint that he ought to speak for his crew. "If I am to be the coxswain of the boat, I don't want every fellow to interfere with me, and take the words out of my mouth."
"You have got us into scrapes enough for one day," replied a rebellious oarsman in the middle of the boat.
"You want to crawl out like a lame chicken!" exclaimed another.
"I was elected coxswain; but you won't obey orders, or even treat me decently," answered Wash. "I have had enough of it, and I resign my office, to take effect at the present moment."
"You might as well! You don't know anything more about a boat than the rest of us," added one of the crew.
"I have nothing more to say," answered Wash Barker, with some show of dignity, as he left his seat at the tiller lines, and took another place. "Every fellow wants to be coxswain except me, and you may do what you please now."
Dory began to feel a higher degree of respect for the coxswain of the Dasher, and so did the rest of the crew of the Winooski. The Beech Hill boys were greatly interested in the dissensions among their opponents, and they could not help contrasting their own splendid discipline with that of the Chesterfields.
"Will you oblige me with the name of the coxswain of the other boat?" asked Dory, addressing the retired officer of the Dasher.
"His name is Madison Twinker, but we all call him Mad," replied Wash Barker.
"What did you tell him for, Wash?" yelled one of the gentlemanly students of the Chesterfield Collegiate Institute.
"I know how to answer a civil question," replied the late coxswain, as he settled down in his seat, and turned his back to his crew.
Dory directed his crew to pull a few strokes and thus enable him to secure a position within talking distance of the coxswain of the Racer.
Before he could speak to Mad Twinker, the members of his crew began to shout at him, telling him not to give up the clothes. The discipline in this boat was no better than in the other. Dory repeated his request to the remaining coxswain of the squadron.
"Don't give up the clothes!" yelled the crew.
"If you fellows are going to do the talking I have nothing to say, and I shall follow the example of Wash Barker," added Mad Twinker; and he plainly sympathized with his fellow coxswain who had resigned.
The Chesterfields did not like this answer, and they looked at one another with something like dismay on their faces.
"Go ahead, Mad! We won't say another word," said the stroke oarsman. The othersmade no promises, but for the time they were silent.
"I am waiting for your answer, Mr. Twinker," said Dory, when he thought it was time for the officer of the Racer to speak.
"Suppose I decline to return them," replied Mad, who found it necessary to say something, though it was clear that he had not decided what to say. "What then?"
"I don't care to consider any question but the return of the clothes," replied Dory.
"Our fellows are not ready to return your clothes, after the insults you have heaped upon us," answered Mad Twinker; and this answer was followed by a clapping of hands.
"Am I to understand that you refuse to return our property?" asked Dory gently but forcibly.
"We will compromise the matter if you like," suggested Mad Twinker, who did not like the cool manner of the coxswain of the Winooski. "If you will apologize for the insults heaped upon us, we will return the garments in as good condition as when they were taken."
"I am not aware that we have insulted you in a single instance, to say nothing of heaping insults upon you," replied Dory.
"We spoke to you twenty times, and you refused to answer us, or take the slightest notice of us," answered Mad, with energy, as though he believed he had made a valid charge; and he even got up a little indignation to go with it. "We invited you to race with us, and you would not deign to make any reply. We think we are entitled to a civil answer when we ask a question."
"Certainly you are when you ask a civil question; but every time you spoke to us you addressed us as 'Tinkers,' 'Greasers,' 'Chip-makers,' or some such insulting epithet. When we were insulted we simply maintained silence," answered Dory.
"Are you not Tinkers, Chip-makers, and Machine-greasers?" demanded Mad Twinker.
"Whatever we are, these names were applied to us as terms of reproach, and were insulting."
"We don't see it."
The Chesterfields clapped their hands again, as they had when the coxswain proposed the compromise. Just then the Gildrock was discovered pulling rapidly towards the scene.
Commodore Mad Twinker did not seem to have much confidence in the position he had taken. He felt that he had been beaten in the argument, but in the face of his crew he could not abandon the ground he had taken. Of course he knew that the Chesterfields had no right to retain the garments they had brought from the shore; but it seemed to be quite impossible to "give in" to the Beech Hill party, and acknowledge that it was wrong to apply epithets to them.
"The Gildrock is coming, Dory," said Life Windham, in a low tone, for the coxswain had not observed the approach of his consort.
Dory cast a glance in the direction from which the other barge was coming. She had apparently just made her way out of Sandy Beach Cove, and the crew were pulling a quick stroke, as though they thought something was the matter with the Winooski. The plucky coxswain was notparticularly pleased at the prospect of a re-enforcement; for, though Matt Randolph was a splendid fellow, he feared that he might be more inclined to fight than to compromise.
But if Dory intended to recover the clothing of his crew, the present situation looked more like a fight than a compromise. The Chesterfields refused to admit that the reproachful epithets were insulting, and demanded an apology for his neglect to answer the challenge to race with them. The coxswain, fearful that he might appear to be too stiff, went over the matter again.
"When we came near you we gave you a complimentary salute," added Dory.
"A complimentary salute!" exclaimed Mad Twinker. "When was that, and what was it?"
"We tossed oars."
"Tossed oars? Where did you toss them?" asked the commodore; and it was plain enough now that the Chesterfields did not understand the manœuvre.
"We raised them to a perpendicular; and this is the highest honor one boat can pay to another. We should not have tossed oars to you if we had intended to insult you," replied Dory with spirit.
"Do you call that showing off a complimentary salute?" demanded Mad, with a sneer. "It's no use to talk any more about it: when you make the apology for insulting us we will give up the clothes."
The crews of both the Chesterfield boats applauded. The wind appeared to be freshening, or it had driven the boats farther out into the lake, where they felt it more. At any rate Mad's last remark indicated a desire to end the conference on the waves.
"I hope there will be no trouble," said Dory, as he glanced at the Gildrock again, though she was still a mile from the scene.
"There will be no talk at any rate," replied Mad. "We are going ashore now, and we will see you on the land if you like."
"You will not go ashore until you have given up those clothes," added Dory firmly.
"I'm not going to fool with you, as Wash did, and if you don't get out of our way we will sink you!" exclaimed the new commodore.
"I think you will have to understand a little more about handling a boat than you do now, before you can do that," replied Dory quietly, as he backed the Winooski a little way from the Racer.
With some difficulty Mad got his boat about so that it was headed to the shore, and the Dasher, with Jeff Monroe acting as coxswain, was trying to follow her example. The waves were very rude, and it looked as though the latter would be swamped before she got about. As soon as Dory saw that the Dasher had accomplished the feat, he repeated his former manœuvre, shoving the bow of the barge entirely around, in spite of all the efforts of her crew to prevent it.
Mad Twinker ordered his oarsmen to beat off the assailants with their oars; but the moment the boat got into the trough of the sea, the bow oarsmen were utterly unable to stand up. In swinging around, the Winooski brought up against the side of the Racer, and two of the latter's oars were snapped in twain in the collision. But Dory drew back before any further damage was done, though the Chesterfield boat had only seven oars left.
By this time the Racer had nearly come about, and Dory gave her a shove which sent her back to her former position in the trough of the sea. Mad Twinker was downright mad in fact, as well as in name, when he found himself beaten. But the Winooski kept out of his reach, and he was utterly powerless. Her coxswain did not havethe least difficulty in swinging her around as he wished, in the smart sea.
The wind was blowing the boats farther out into the lake every moment, and the white-caps had a terrific aspect to the inexperienced boatmen. Mad brought his barge about again. Placing one of his oarless crew at the tiller lines, he crawled forward himself, and took a position in the bow. Arming himself with the boathook he directed his rowers to give way.
This time Dory did not wait till the Racer was headed to the shore, but darted upon her just as she came out of the trough of the sea. He called to Thad Glovering to boat his oar, and look out for his head, for Mad evidently intended to hit anyone who came within reach of his weapon.
"Oars!" shouted Dory with energy. "Stern all!"
But in spite of his care he struck the Racer harder than he intended, and a lively snapping of cedar boards was heard. The sound created a panic among the crew; they all stopped rowing, and looked behind them to see what had happened. About three feet of the bow of the boat was stove in, and the water was pouring in through the break.
"There! Do you see what you have done?" yelled Mad Twinker, appalled at the disaster to the Dasher.
"Will you give up those clothes, or will you take another rap?" called Dory sharply.
"Another rap! Do you mean to drown us all?" cried Mad.
"I mean to have our clothes!" answered Dory.
"Let them have the clothes!" yelled one of the terrified crew.
"Let them have them! We can't do anything more," added another.
Mad said nothing more, but he picked up such of the clothes as were within his reach, and held them out in the direction of the Winooski. His crew followed his example, and Dory ran the barge near enough to receive them.
"That's all there are in this boat," said Mad Twinker.
"If you all move a little farther aft, the water won't run into your boat," said Dory in a quiet tone. "Here are five oars that belong to your boats. I have no further business with you to-day, unless we find some of our clothes are missing; and we wish you good evening."
"We shall have further business with you, andyou won't see the end of this affair for one while," growled Mad Twinker, as he crawled to the stern-sheets of his barge.
While this scene was transpiring, the Dasher had succeeded in getting about, and her crew were pulling for the shore, though they lay upon their oars when they saw the catastrophe to her consort. Dory followed the other barge without any delay, and was soon in position to "ram" the bow, as he had that of the Racer; but the Dashers decided not to be wrecked, as their consort had been. Jeff Monroe shouted that they would give up the clothes and they were delivered. The Winooski went to the shore, and the crew clothed themselves. None of the clothes were missing, and the coxswain was glad he had no further demand to make upon the Chesterfields. Before the boys were half clothed the Gildrock joined them.
"What in the world have you fellows been about?" asked Matt Randolph. "We thought you were in a row out there with the Chesterfields, and we were hurrying up to help you out."
"We were in a row, and we have smashed in the bow of one of their boats," replied Dory. "Our fellows have behaved first-rate, and I think we have come out of the scrape with clean hands."
"Not if you have smashed one of their boats," added Matt seriously.
"Captain Gildrock must settle that question; and I suppose Colonel Buckmill will have something to say about it," answered Dory, as he proceeded to relate in detail what had happened at Sandy Beach.
The event was discussed with no little excitement for a considerable time. Beech Hill was very indignant at the conduct of the Chesterfields, and heartily delighted that they had been beaten in the end. But all felt, as Mad Twinker had suggested, that they had not seen the end of the affair yet, and it was voted that a state of war existed between the two institutions on opposite sides of the lake; and perhaps it was a happy circumstance that four miles of fresh water lay between them.
"I say, Dory, I don't quite understand how it was that you beat us so awfully in that little scrub race we had," said the coxswain of the Gildrock. "I was sure we could whip you every time when we came out of the river."
"I knew that you had been giving your crew a little private training," replied Dory, laughing, as they walked down to the barges. "I know justwhy you were beaten; and I think you had better wait till you get out of the woods before you do any crowing next time. The three cheers you gave were rather cutting to our fellows."
"I was confident we could pass you every time; and your crew were taking it very easy. We gave the cheers to stir you up, and give us a chance to beat you when you were doing your best," Matt explained. "But how did you give us such an awful waxing?"
"Simply by minding our own business: that's all I know about it. Our fellows row first-rate, and they are in splendid discipline. Your crew got demoralized when they saw us gaining on them, and they couldn't do anything more. It was as easy to beat them then as it is to go to sleep when you can't keep awake."
Matt did not understand the cause of his defeat much better than before. He said he had been training his crew, and trying to find out what the matter was.
The barges returned to Beech Hill, and after they were secured, there was nothing talked about but the encounter with the Chesterfields. As in duty bound, Dory reported the affair, with full details, to the principal.
"I am afraid this is rather serious business, Dory," said Captain Gildrock. "It looks like a standing quarrel between our school and the Institute, and it may lead to disagreeable consequences. Of course the students on the other side will have their own story to tell, and probably I shall hear from Colonel Buckmill, who will claim damages for the injury done the barge."
"We had to recover our clothes, or come home without our shirts," pleaded Dory.
"I have no doubt you have told the story correctly as you understand it, but almost always there are two sides to any story. You appear to have acted with prudence and forbearance, and I have no fault to find with you," added Captain Gildrock. "We will wait and see what comes of the affair."
It may as well be said here that nothing came of it, and Colonel Buckmill was not informed in regard to the collision. The Racer was rowed to Westport that evening, and the next morning she had been repaired, and was in as good condition as ever. But the Chesterfields nursed their wrath, and vowed vengeance for the humiliation to which they had been subjected.
After breakfast on the following morning the students were provided with the new uniform, if so simple a suit could be dignified by such a title. It consisted of a sack, pants, and vest of blue flannel, and a cap on which was a monogram of the letters B. H. I. S. The buttons on the coat and cap were plain and nickel-plated, as was the monogram. It was a very neat dress, and most of the boys were pleased with it.
"Where is your uniform, Life?" asked Dory of the strike oarsman of the Winooski, as they were about to enter the school and shop building.
"I don't intend to wear any uniform," replied Life Windham. "I am not a monkey, a soldier, or a policeman."
"As the rest of us are neither soldiers nor policemen, I suppose you regard us as monkeys," added Dory, laughing.
"I don't say that you are monkeys, only that you are dressed like monkeys," replied Life.
"I think you are making a mistake, and I hope you will consider well what you are about," continued Dory seriously. "My uncle pays for the clothes of all the students, and it seems to me he ought to be allowed to say what the garments should be."
"If Captain Gildrock wanted you to go about town with a chapeau on your head, should you be willing to do it?" demanded Life, with considerable vim in his tones.
"But he don't ask you to wear a chapeau, or even a soldier's cap. You argue against something that is ridiculous, instead of the actual thing," returned Dory warmly. "It is a common cap, just such a one as you wore when you came to Beech Hill, only there are four letters on it."
"It is a uniform, any way, and we are all to be punished because two fellows drank beer in a saloon," persisted Life.
"There is no punishment about it."
"Didn't Captain Gildrock say we were to wear a uniform because two of the fellows drank beer?" demanded Life.
"No, he did not!" protested Dory. "He said he did not believe the fellows would have drank the beer if they had worn the uniform of the school."
"Why not? Because they would be afraid of being found out?" sneered Life.
"Not at all. Didn't he say that he expected the fellows to have a proper regard for the honor and credit of the school? He thinks that respect for the institution would prevent the fellows from doing anything out of the way. The uniform would keep the fact that they are members constantly in their minds. In Boston all the pupils of the high schools wear a uniform cap."
"I don't see it in that light, and I look upon wearing a uniform as a punishment, served out to the innocent as well as the guilty."
"If I were you I should go and put the uniform on, and then carry my grievance to the principal," added Dory, sorry that the stroke oarsman of the boat should get himself into trouble for nothing at all.
"We argued the matter yesterday. I am not the only fellow who won't wear the uniform. There are eight of us, and we had a meeting this morning," replied Life, "and not one of them will put on monkey rigging."
"You are making a bad mistake, Life. Not a word was said yesterday about punishment, and I am sure my uncle will set matters right if youonly obey orders. If you stand out, he won't say a word to comfort you. Put on the uniform, go to him this morning, and say that you object to wearing it, for you look upon it as a punishment, served out to the innocent as well as the guilty," reasoned Dory.
"We said all we had to say yesterday," replied Life; and he joined several others not in uniform as they went into the building.
In the schoolroom Dory had a chance to see who the rebels were, for all the others wore the uniform, while the objectors had on the garments in which they had come to the school. There were four from the first class, and four from the second. Besides Life Windham, of his own crew, he found Phil Gawner, Lick Milton, and Tom Ridley. He was sorry he had not known who the rebels were before, for he thought he could have influenced them in the right direction. Ben Ludlow, who had had the most to say against the uniform the day before, wore the prescribed costume.
Eight out of twenty-six were nearly one third of the whole school. He wished he could have a chance to talk the subject over with the other rebels in his crew before they were called to orderin the schoolroom, for Captain Gildrock was a thorough disciplinarian. He would yield a great deal to respectful remonstrance, but not a hair to rebellion. If the eight rebels took a decided stand, the principal would regard it as a case of disobedience, and treat it accordingly.
But there was no time to argue the matter, and hardly a word had been said about it among the crews of the barges. The rebels had preferred to confine their discussion to their own number, instead of getting the views and feelings of the other members of the school.
Every pupil had a single desk in the schoolroom, which contained his books and other property. Each one took his place, and the roll was called by Miss Fatima Millweed, who was the clerk of the institution. All answered to their names. Most of those who wore the uniform did not seem to know that there was a rebellion in progress, and they looked with some astonishment at their companions in plain clothes.
The principal had not yet come in, and as he had announced other business for the opening of the session, the instructors waited for him. But the captain was a methodical and punctual man, and the roll-call was hardly finished before hemade his appearance upon the platform. He had a roll of papers in his hand, and seemed to be thinking of the business of the moment. He proceeded to unroll his papers, without bestowing any attention upon the new uniform, for he had noticed and commented upon it before school time.
"Now, boys, I have something to say about the plans for the new boat-house and hall for recreation," the principal began, as he took his place at the desk on the platform. "The idea does not include merely the building, but a wharf for the Sylph, docks for the barges, and the location and general arrangement of the building and grounds. For the best plan of the building the prize will be fifty dollars. The same amount will be given for the best location and method of constructing the wharf and arranging the grounds of the new structure."
"Architecture and civil engineering," suggested Bolingbroke Millweed, deeply interested in the business of the occasion.
"Precisely so, only we shall not meddle much with ornamental architecture," replied Captain Gildrock, looking over the pupils to observe the impression the announcement of the prize made upon them.
Then he suddenly suspended his remarks, andstepped out to the side of the desk. For a moment he looked the boys over, as though his thoughts had taken a new turn. He left his papers on the desk, as though he had abandoned the subject of the building.
"I think I directed that the new uniform should be put on this morning," said the principal, after a considerable pause. "I see that most of you wear it, and I suppose the others could not find suits that would fit them. Mr. Sheers was to be here to assist in fitting you. Wasn't he here, Shoreham?"
"Yes, sir; he was here, and he selected a uniform that he said would fit me," replied Lew.
"But you have not put it on?"
"No, sir."
"I see there are several others who have not put on the uniform," continued the principal; and he proceeded to call the names of those in plain clothes. "If any one of you did not find a uniform that would fit him, he will signify it."
No one raised a hand or spoke a word, and it was evident that there was no trouble at all about fitting the garments.
"Shoreham, why have you not put on your uniform?" demanded the principal, rather sternly.
"I have decided not to wear a uniform," replied Lew, in an entirely respectful tone.
"You have decided not to wear a uniform," repeated Captain Gildrock. "Cornwall, I see that you are in plain clothes."
"I have also decided not to wear a uniform," answered Bart.
"There appears to be several of you who made the same decision," added Captain Gildrock.
"Eight of us, sir," said Bob Swanton.
"I wish to say, Captain Gildrock, that we do so with entire respect to you, sir," added Lew Shoreham.
"With entire respect to me, you intend to disobey my orders," said the principal, with a smile.
"We have agreed that not a disrespectful word shall be spoken to you, sir," continued Lew, who had apparently been appointed the spokesman for the rebellion.
"In other words, you intend to do wrong in a gentlemanly way, which is perhaps better than doing it in an ungentlemanly way," added the principal.
"I desire to give the reasons why we decline to wear a uniform," said Lew Shoreham, rising from his chair as though he intended to make a speechof some length; and perhaps he could do it better than any other student in the school.
"I decline to hear the reasons—I respectfully decline. After I have given an order I don't argue the matter," replied Captain Gildrock.
"But we wish—"
"While you stand in the attitude of disobedience, you must excuse me from listening to what you wish, Shoreham. Those who have decided not to wear the uniform of the Beech Hill Industrial School may stand."
The eight rebels rose from their seats, and stood by the side of their desks. They held their heads up as though they meant to be manly and independent, and no doubt they felt so.
"I don't think you are quite fair, Captain Gildrock, not to hear what—"
"You are entitled to your own opinion. The eight boys who have decided not to wear the uniform will go to their rooms, and each remain in his own apartment until further orders," continued Captain Gildrock, in a very mild but decidedly firm tone.
"I wish to say—" Lew Shoreham began.
"You will say nothing!" interposed the principal, in a very stern voice. "Go to your rooms,and stay in them till you have permission to leave them."
Lew Shoreham was extremely anxious to argue the question, and to do so before the school. Physically he was rather clumsy, and was not likely to distinguish himself in athletic sports; but he was a good speaker for a boy, and a bit of a lawyer besides. Doubtless he and his companions thought they were grossly abused in not being allowed to argue the question of obedience. The rebels retired from the schoolroom, and the principal picked up his papers.