Don’s first care was to ascertain which way Huggins would come from when he returned from the mill with his wood, and his second to keep behind the depot out of sight. He paced up and down the platform in front of the door of the waiting-room, so that he could be at hand to lend assistance in case the tramp showed a disposition to make trouble for Mack and Egan, but that worthy had no more fight in him. He was a coward and afraid of Don, and he wisely concluded that the best thing he could do was to keep quiet.
At the end of twenty minutes the station-agent came in. He had heard from the professor and the rest of the squad, who had left the train at Munson. At Captain Mack’s request he sent off the following despatch:
“Have captured the tramp who robbed Huggins,and expect to have Huggins himself inside of an hour.”
In due time the answer came back:
“Remain at the station until I come.”
“And when he comes, which will be about four o’clock this afternoon, we shall have to go back to our books and duties,” said the young officer, stretching his arms and yawning. “I haven’t seen a bit of fun during this scout, have you, Egan? I hope the next fellow who makes up his mind to desert the academy, will lead us a good long chase and give us some work to do.”
The captain had his wish. The next time he was sent in pursuit of a runaway, he did not come back in one day nor two; and even at the end of a week he had not completed his work. We shall tell all about it presently.
The minutes wore away, and presently Don Gordon, who stood where he could command a view of the road for a long distance, saw a load of wood coming out of the timber. There was somebody walking beside it and driving the horses, but Don would not have known it was Huggins had not the station-agent, who was also on the watch, at that moment opened his door and called out:
“There he is.”
“Much obliged,” replied Don, who straightway pulled off his overcoat and dropped it upon the platform. He knew nothing whatever of Huggins. The latter might be a good runner or a good fighter, and if he concluded to make a race of it or to resist arrest, Don intended to be ready for him.
Huggins approached the depot with fear and trembling. He stopped very frequently to reconnoiter the building and its surroundings, and when he drew up to the wood-pile, he threw the blankets over his steaming horses, and jumped upon the platform. He wanted to make sure that the coast was clear before he began throwing off his load. Don could not see him now, but the sound of his footsteps told him that the deserter was approaching his place of concealment. When he came around the corner of the building, Don stepped into view and greeted him with the greatest cordiality.
“Your name is Huggins, I believe,” said he; and without giving the runaway time to recover from his surprise and bewilderment, Don took him by the arm and led him toward the door of thewaiting-room. “I am glad to see you,” he continued, “and you will be glad to know that the tramp who robbed you last night has surrendered Lester Brigham’s money, and that your clothes—— Hallo! What’s the matter?”
Huggins had been brought to his senses by Don’s words. He saw that he had run right into a trap that had been prepared for him, and he made a desperate attempt to escape. Throwing all his strength, which was by no means insignificant, into the effort, he tried to wrench his arm loose from Don’s grasp, and to trip him up at the same time; but the vicious kick he aimed at Don’s leg expended its force in the empty air, and Huggins turned part way around and sat down on the platform very suddenly.
“What are you doing down there?” said Don, taking the runaway by the collar and lifting him to his feet. “Come into the waiting-room if you want to sit down. I was about to say, when you interrupted me, that you can get your clothes back now. Mack’s got the money, and all your property. Here we are. Walk right in and make yourself at home.”
Captain Mack and Egan, who had kept a watchfuleye on Don and his captive, but who dared not go out to assist him for fear that the tramp would improve the opportunity to escape, opened the door of the waiting-room, and Huggins walked in without saying a word. In obedience to Captain Mack’s command an exchange of hats and coats was made between the new prisoner and the man who had robbed him, and after that another despatch was sent to Professor Odenheimer. The answer that came back was the same as the first.
The fun, as well as the work, was all over now, and the students had nothing to do but walk about the room and wait as patiently as they could for the train that was to take them back to Bridgeport. It came at last, and in due time the tramp was handed over to the authorities to be tried for highway robbery, while Huggins was marched to his room to be kept there under guard until his father came to take him away. He was expelled from the school in general orders. Lester Brigham was punished for keeping so large an amount of money by him in violation of the regulations, and Don Gordon was looked upon as a hero. This hurt Lester more than anything else. He had come there with the fixed determinationto supplant Don and Bert in the estimation of both teachers and students—to build himself up by pulling them down—and he was not a little disappointed as well as enraged, when he discovered that it was not in his power to work them any injury. He wrote a doleful letter to his father, complaining of the indignities that were constantly heaped upon him, and begging to be allowed to go home; but for once in his life Mr. Brigham was firm, and Lester was given to understand that he must make up his mind to stay at Bridgeport until the four years’ course was completed.
“I’ll show him whether I will or not,” said Lester, who was almost beside himself with fury. “He’llhaveto let me go home. If Jones and the rest will stand by me, I will kick up a row here that will be talked of as long as the academy stands. I’ll show the fellows that Don Gordon isn’t the only boy in the world who has any pluck.”
In process of time Mr. Huggins came to the academy to look into the charges that had been made against his son, and when he went away, the deserter went with him. It was a long time before the boys knew what had become of him, for heleft not a single friend at the academy, and there was no one who corresponded with him.
Things went smoothly after that. Of course there was some grand running, and a good deal of extra sentry and police duty to be performed by the idle and disobedient ones; but there were no flagrant violations of the rules—no more thefts or desertions. The malcontents were plucky enough to do almost anything, but they lacked a leader. There were no Don Gordons or Tom Fishers or Clarence Duncans among them. They had expected great things of Lester Brigham, but when they became better acquainted with him, they found that he was a boy of no spirit whatever. He talked loudly and spent his money freely, and his liberality brought him plenty of followers who were quick to discover all the weak points in his character. His insufferable vanity and self-conceit, his hatred of Don Gordon, his fondness for telling of the imaginary exploits he had performed both afloat and ashore—all these were seized upon by a certain class of boys who flattered him to his face, ate unlimited quantities of pancakes and pies at his expense and laughed at him behind his back. But the idea he had suggested to them—that ofstealing a yacht and going off somewhere and having a picnic—was not forgotten. They talked about it at every opportunity; numerous plans for their amusement were proposed and discussed, and they had even selected the yacht in which they intended to make their cruise. Lester was, of course, the nominal leader, but Jones and Enoch Williams did all the work and laid all the plans.
The winter months passed quietly away, spring with its trout-fishing and pickerel-spearing came and went, and summer was upon them almost before they knew it. Now the students went to work in earnest, for the season of the annual camp and the examination that followed it, was close at hand. Even the lazy boys began to show some signs of life now, for they had heard much of the pleasures that were to be enjoyed during their month under canvas, and they were as anxious as the others to make a good showing in the presence of the strangers and friends who would be sure to visit them.
Lester Brigham would have looked forward to the camping frolic with the greatest eagerness and impatience if he had only had a corporal’schevronsto wear; but he hadn’t, and if we might judge by his standing in his class, he was not likely to wear them, either.
“I’ll have to stand guard and be bossed around by that little whiffet of a Bert Gordon, who will throw on more airs than he deserves,” Lester often said to himself. “But I’ll not go to camp, if I can help it. If I do, I’ll not stay there long, for I will do something that will send me back to the academy under arrest.”
This was a part of Jones’s programme. The boys who were to steal the yacht and go to sea in her—there were twenty-eight of them in all—were to fall so far behind their classes that they would be ordered to remain at the academy to make up for lost time. If they did not succeed in accomplishing their object and were sent to camp against their will, they were to commit some offence that would cause them to be marched back under arrest. The boys growled lustily when this programme was marked out for them, and some of them flatly refused to follow it.
“As this is my first year at the academy I have never been in camp, and I should like to see what they do there,” said one. “Suppose those MountPleasant Indians should come in again? I shouldn’t like to miss that.”
“I don’t see any sense in waiting so long,” said another. “Why can’t we go now?”
“Where’s the yacht?” asked Jones, in reply. “There isn’t one in the harbor. They have all gone off on a cruise. The first thing is to make sure that we can get a boat. As soon as that matter is settled, I will tell you what to do next. If you will hold yourselves in readiness to move when I say the word, I will guarantee that we will see more fun than those who stay in camp.”
“What will they do with us after they capture us?”
“They will court-martial and expel the last one of us. That’s a foregone conclusion. If there are any among us who desire to stay in this school, they had better back down at once, so that we may know who they are. But we’ll lead them a lively race before we are caught; you may depend upon that.”
Whenever Jones talked in this way there were a few of his adherents—and they were the ones who had exhibited the most enthusiasm when Lester’s plan was first proposed—who felt theircourage oozing out at the end of their fingers. It was easy enough to talk about capturing and running off with a private yacht, but as the time for action drew nearer they began to show signs of wavering. Unfortunately, however, an incident happened during the latter part of June, which did more to unite them, and to bring their runaway scheme to a head, than almost anything else could have done.
Among those who kept a watchful eye over the interests of the academy, and who took the greatest pride in its success, were the rank and file of the 61st regiment of infantry, National Guards, which was located at Hamilton, a thriving little city about fifty miles north of Bridgeport. This regiment was composed almost entirely of veterans, and a few of them were the fathers, uncles and older brothers of some of the boys who were now wearing the academy uniform. Their colonel and some of their field and line officers were graduated there, and in the ranks were many bearded fellows who, in the days gone by, had run the guards to eat pancakes at Cony Ryan’s, and who had paid for their fun by spending the next Saturday afternoon in walking extras with musketson their shoulders and packed knapsacks on their backs.
The regiment had once spent a week in camp with the academy boys, and this year was the twenty-fifth anniversary of its organization. The members intended to celebrate it by giving the citizens of Hamilton the finest parade they had witnessed for many a day. Regiments from Rhode Island, New York and Ohio had given favorable replies to the invitations that had been sent to them, others from Virginia and North Carolina, which had seen service under General Lee at Richmond, had promised to be present, the firemen and civic societies were to join in the parade, and the academy boys were expected to be there in full force. The line was to be formed after dinner had been served in a big tent, and the festivities were to conclude with a grand ball in the evening.
When the superintendent read the invitation before the school and asked the students what they thought about it, they arose as one boy and raised such a tumult of “Union cheers” and “rebel yells” (remember there were a good many Southern boys among them), that the superintendent,after trying in vain to make his signal bell heard, raised his hand to enforce silence.
“Young gentlemen, you know that such a demonstration as this is a direct violation of our rules and regulations,” said he, when the boys had resumed their seats; but still he did not seem to be very much annoyed. He judged that they were unanimously in favor of accepting the invitation, and the adjutant would be instructed to reply accordingly. He hoped that every member of the academy would be able to join in the parade,butthere were two things that must be distinctly understood: The first was, that they could not remain to take part in the festivities of the evening—they must start for home at six o’clock. The boys, he said, had all they could do to prepare themselves for the examination, and pleasure must not be allowed to interfere with business. If they deserved it they would have plenty of recreation when they went into camp. Just then a boy in the back part of the room raised his hand. The superintendent nodded to him, and the boy arose and said:
“Could we not march to and from the city, camping out on the way, instead of going by rail?”
The flutter of excitement which this proposition caused in every part of the school-room indicated that the students were all in favor of it; but it seems that the superintendent wasn’t. There would be no objection, he said, if the parade were to come off immediately; but the 24th of July was the day that had been set for the celebration; it would take three days to march there, as many more to return, and seven days of study taken from the end of the term would certainly show in the examination. They were too valuable to be wasted. One day was all he could allow them.
The second thing he wished them to understand was this: The parade would be an event of some consequence. It would afford them as much pleasure as the fight with the Mount Pleasant Indians. They would be surrounded by well-drilled men who would watch all their movements with critical eyes, and note and comment upon their slightest errors or indiscretions. He had no fears for the majority of the students, for he knew beforehand that they would act like soldiers while they were in the ranks, and like young gentlemen when they were out of them; but there were some among them, he was sorry to say, whose presencewould reflect no honor upon their companies—boys who could not keep their eyes directed to the front while they were marching, or hold their heads still on dress-parade, and whose conduct, when they were on the streets and out of sight of their teachers and officers, would not be calculated to win the respect of the citizens of Hamilton. He did not want those boys to accompany them, but still he would give them the same chance he gave the others.
They had nearly five weeks of hard study and drill before them, during which time it was possible for any studious and attentive boy to run his standing up to a hundred. Those who did that, might be sure of a holiday and a general good time on the 24th of July; but those who allowed themselves to fall below seventy-five, would be required to remain at the academy. He left the matter in their own hands.
“I say, Don,” whispered Egan, as the students marched out of the school-room, “if this thing had happened last year, you and I would have gone to the hop, wouldn’t we?”
“I believe we would,” answered Don.
“Well, what do you say to——”
“I’ll not do it,” was the emphatic response. “If any of the other fellows have a mind to desert and stay to the roll, they may do it and take the consequences; but I won’t. I haven’t received a single reprimand this term, not even from that old martinet Odenheimer, and what’s more, I don’t intend to put myself in the way of getting one.”
“Good for you, Gordon,” said Egan, approvingly. “Stick to it, and the day that sees you a first-class cadet, will see you lieutenant-colonel of the academy battalion. You hear me?”
“I hope it will,” replied Don. “It certainly will not see me a private; you may depend upon that.”
That night Lester Brigham and his friend Jones met in the gymnasium. Their followers came up, one after the other, and in a few minutes there was quite a crowd of boys gathered about them. Some of them spoke with great enthusiasm regarding the proposed excursion to Hamilton, while others were sullen, and had but little to say. Among the latter was Lester Brigham, who, having wasted his time and fallen behind his class in everything, saw very plainly that his chances forparticipating in the celebration were slim indeed. He grew angry whenever he thought that he would have to remain a prisoner at the academy while the other boys in his company were seeing no end of fun, and when he got that way, he was ready for almost anything. He saw how his enforced sojourn at Bridgeport could be turned to account; but the next thing was to make the rest of the fellows see it.
“Things couldn’t have been planned to suit us better, could they?” said Lester, as the boys crowded about him.
“They might have been planned to suitmebetter—a good deal better,” growled one, in reply. “I wish that invitation had been sent a month ago. Then I should have gone to work in earnest, and perhaps I would stand some chance of going to Hamilton with my company.”
“Why, do you want to go?” exclaimed Lester.
“Of course I do, and I will, too, if there is anything to be gained by faithful effort. If you catch me in any mischief before the result of the next five weeks’ study is announced, you may shoot me.”
“And me; and me,” chorused several of the boys.
“Look here, Brigham,” said Jones. “That celebration will be the grandest thing you ever saw, outside of a big city, and we mustn’t miss it.”
“I was going to suggest that it would be a good time to start off on our cruise,” said Lester. “The boys who will be left here to stand guard will be fellows after our own hearts, and we can easily induce them to pass us or to join in with us.”
“That’s my idea,” said another.
“Well, it isn’t mine,” said Jones, in very decided tones.
“Don’t you know what the understanding was?” began Lester.
“I know all about it,” replied Jones. “I ought to, for I proposed it. The bargain was, that we were to be left out of camp, if we could, so that we could desert the academy when it was not strongly guarded. Failing that, we were to leave the camp in a body, capture our boat and go to sea in her. Wasn’t that the agreement, boys?”
The students all said it was.
“I am ready to live up to that agreement,” continued Jones; “but I wouldn’t miss that parade for any money. I am going to the ball in the evening, too.”
“You can’t,” said Lester. “The superintendent said you would come home on the six o’clock train.”
“Some will and some won’t,” said a boy who had not spoken before. “It will be an easy matter for those of us who want to stay, to slip away and hide until the rest of the boys are gone. If I go to Hamilton I shall go to the dance.”
“And I’ll stay here,” said Lester, who was disappointed as well as enraged. “But when you return, you will not find me. I am going off on a cruise if I have to steal a skiff and go alone.”
“You needn’t go alone,” said one of the boys. “I will go with you.”
“Wait until August and we will all go with you,” said Jones.
“I can’t and I shan’t. I have waited long enough already. I have seen quite enough of this school.”
These were the sentiments of a good many of the students, who gradually drew over to Lester’sside, and when the latter had run his eye over them, he found that there were an even dozen who were willing to stand by him.
“Whose side are you on, Enoch?” inquired Lester.
He waited with considerable anxiety for the reply, for he knew that a good deal depended upon Enoch Williams. He was to be first officer of the yacht, when they got her (the real commander, in fact, for Lester, who was to be the captain, didn’t know the starboard rail from the main truck) and if Lester could induce him to come over to his side, the rest of the boys would probably come with him.
“I go with the majority,” answered Enoch. “The most of the fellows have declared against your plan, and if they are going to the celebration, I am going too.”
“By dividing in this way, you act as if you desire to read us out of your good books,” said Jones. “If that is the case, all right. If you will keep still about us and our plans, we will not blow on you. If you succeed in reaching the bay, and in eluding the tugs that are sent after you, we may join you some time during the second weekin August, if you will tell us where you are going.”
“They are a pack of cowards,” observed Lester, as Jones and Williams walked away, followed by their friends. “You fellows did well to side with me. They had no intention of helping us capture that yacht, and this is the way they take to get out of it.”
“I don’t know whether we have done well or not,” said one of Lester’s friends, when he saw the others moving away. “Now that Enoch has deserted us, who is there to command the boat?”
“Why, I am to have charge of her,” said Lester, with a look of surprise. “That was understood from the very first.”
“But you are a fresh-water sailor and don’t know anything about the coast,” said the boy.
“I know I don’t, and neither does Enoch. But I never yet got a vessel into a place that I couldn’t get her out of, and if you will trust to me I will look out for your safety and insure you lots of fun besides,” said Lester, confidently; and then he wondered what he should do if the boys took him at his word.
“I must see if I can’t induce Enoch to standby me,” said he to himself. “If he refuses, the whole thing is up stump, for I can’t command the yacht, and I am not foolish enough to try it. I will wait a few days, and perhaps something will turn up in my favor.”
Lester was not disappointed. When each scholar’s standing for the week was announced on Friday night, Jones had only fifty marks to his credit, while Enoch Williams was obliged to be satisfied with thirty.
“I’ve done my level best,” said the former, in a discouraged tone, “and now I believe I’ll give it up.”
“Never say die,” said Enoch, hopefully. “I have better reason for being discouraged than you have. I shall try harder than ever from this time on, and if I can get up as high as ninety next week, and stay there, that will make my average standing seventy-eight. Youmusttry, old boy, for I don’t want to go to Hamilton unless you do. Give me your promise.”
Jones gave it, but said he didn’t think anything would come of it.
It was by no means a common occurrence for the best of the scholars to win a hundred credit marks in a week, for in order to do it, it was necessary that they should be perfect in everything. If their standing and deportment as students were all they desired them to be, they ran the risk of falling behind in their record as soldiers. If they handled their muskets a little too quickly or too slowly while their company was going through the manual of arms, if they forgot that the guide was left when marching in platoon front, and allowed themselves to fall half an inch out of line, or if they turned their heads on dress-parade to watch the band while it “rounded off,” they were sure to be reported and to lose some of their hard-earned credit marks.
Don Gordon worked early and late, and his average for the first three weeks was ninety—Bertfollowing close behind with eighty-eight. Jones and Enoch Williams did not do as well, and Lester was out of the race almost before it was begun. Enoch made a gallant struggle, and would have succeeded in winning the required number of marks if Jones had only let him alone; but at the end of the third week the latter gave up trying.
“It’s no use, Williams,” said he. “I’ve made a bad showing, thanks to the partiality of the instructors, who don’t intend to let a fellow win on his merits. I have made just a hundred and forty altogether, and if I could make a clean score during the next two weeks, my average would be sixty-eight—seven points too low. Now what are you going to do?”
“You can’t possibly make seventy-five, can you?” said Enoch, after he had performed a little problem in mental arithmetic. “Well, if you’ve got to stay behind, I’ll stay too. How about that picnic? Lester hasn’t been near me in a long time. He and his crowd seem to hang together pretty well, and I shouldn’t wonder if they had got their plans all laid.”
“Let’s hunt him up and have a talk with him,” said Jones. “We have made him mad, and perhapswe shall have hard work to get him good-natured again.”
“I don’t care if he never gets good-natured again,” answered Enoch. “I have long been of the opinion that we ought to throw that fellow overboard. We shall certainly see trouble through him if we do not.”
“We’ll see trouble if we do,” said Jones, earnestly. “I have studied him pretty closely, and I have found out that there is no honor in him. We’ve gone too far to drop him now. If we should attempt it, he’d blow on us as sure as the world.”
Jones struck pretty close to the mark when he said this, for Lester had already set his wits to work to conjure up some plan to keep the boys who would not side with him at the academy while he and the rest were off on their cruise. He had decided that when the proper time came he would make an effort to induce Enoch to go with him, and if he refused, he (Lester) would take care to see that he didn’t go at all. He would contrive some way to let the superintendent know what he and Jones and their crowd intended to do.
“Brigham is no sailor, and there’s where the trouble is coming in,” said Enoch.
“I confess that I have often had my fears on that point,” replied Jones; “but we mustn’t think of leaving him behind. Let him act as leader, if he can, until we are fairly afloat, and then, if we find he doesn’t know what he is about, we can easily depose him and put you in his place.”
“I don’t care to be captain,” said Enoch. “I’d just as soon go before the mast, provided there is somebody on the quarter-deck who understands his business. These racing boats are cranky things, and sometimes they turn bottom side up without any provocation at all. There’s Brigham now.”
Lester was delighted to learn that his two old cronies were ready to side with him, but he did not show it. He appeared to be quite indifferent.
“I listened with all my ears when the last week’s standing was announced, and I know very well what it was that brought you over to me,” said he, addressing himself to Jones. “You’re going to fall below seventy-five in spite of all you can do, and Enoch doesn’t want to go to Hamiltonwithout you. I’ll have to talk to the boys about it. Perhaps they will say they don’t want you, because you went back on us once.”
“I say we didn’t go back on you or anybody else,” said Enoch, looking savagely at Lester. “We are ready to stand by our agreement, and you are not.”
Jones and Williams, believing that Lester was not very favorably disposed toward them, thought it would be a good plan to talk to the boys about it themselves. They found that some were glad to welcome them back, but that those who wanted to go to Hamilton and who were working hard, and with a fair prospect of success, to win the required number of marks, met their advances rather coldly.
“Let the celebration go and come with us,” urged Jones. “I’ll warrant you’ll see more fun on the bay than you will in marching about the dusty streets of Hamilton while the mercury is away up in the nineties.”
“Sour grapes!” exclaimed one of the boys. “Look here, Jones. A little while ago this parade was the grandest thing that ever was thought of, and you wouldn’t miss it for any amount ofmoney. You tried your best to win a place in the ranks of your company, but you failed, and now you want us to fail, too. I can’t see the beauty of that.”
There was more than one who couldn’t see it—boys who spent all their time with their books and watched themselves closely, in the hope of attaining to the required standing. Some succeeded and others did not. Those who failed fell back into the ranks of Lester’s crowd, angry and discouraged, and ready for anything that would close the doors of that school against them forever. The fortunate ones, turning a deaf ear to the pleadings of their companions, but promising to keep a still tongue in their heads regarding the proposed picnic, went to the city with their company, and we must hasten on to tell what happened to them while on the way, and what they did after they got there.
While these things were going on inside of the academy, some stirring events, in which a few of the students finally became personally interested, were occurring outside of it. The daily papers, to which many of the boys were subscribers, began to speak of railroad strikes, and in every issue there was a column or more of telegrams relatingto “labor troubles.” The boys read them, simply because they wanted to keep themselves posted, as far as they could, in all that was going on in the world; but they paid no particular attention to them. The news came from distant points and did not affect them in any way, because they were independent of the railroads and would be until September. If the hands on the Bordentown branch, the road that ran from Oxford through Bridgeport to Hamilton, wanted to strike for higher wages, they could do it and welcome. There was no law to prevent them. In fact, the students hoped they would do it, for then they could shoulder their muskets and march to the city, as the majority of them wanted to do.
Time passed and things began to assume a more serious aspect. The strike became general and trouble was feared. The strikers would not work themselves nor would they allow others to work; and when men came to take their places they won them over to their side, or assaulted them with clubs and stones and drove them away. The lawless element of the country, the “dangerous classes,”—the thieves, loafers, tramps and socialists, who had everything to make and nothing tolose, joined with the strikers; and although the latter repudiated and denounced them in strong language, they did not send them away. The police could do nothing, and finally the National Guard was called out; but its presence did not seem to have any effect. The most of the guard were working men, and the strikers did not believe they would use their weapons even if ordered to do so. At Buffalo the mob threw aside the bayonets that were crossed in front of the door of a machine shop, and went in and compelled the men to stop work. Not satisfied with that they attacked the company that was guarding the shop and put it to flight. A Chicago paper announced, with much trepidation, that there were twenty thousand well-armed socialists in that city, who were threatening to do all sorts of terrible things; a Baltimore mob stoned and scattered the soldiers who had been sent there to preserve order; New York was like a seething cauldron, almost ready to boil over; the strikers and their allies had got beyond control at Pittsburg, and were destroying the property of the railroad companies; and thus were ushered in “those dark days in July, 1877, when the whole land was threatened with anarchy.”
“I tell you, boys, this is becoming interesting,” said Egan, as he and his particular friends met one morning on the parade ground, each with a paper in his hand. “Just listen to this despatch from Pittsburg: ‘A large force of strikers has captured a train, and is running about the country, picking up arms and ammunition wherever they can be found. A regiment is expected from Philadelphia this evening.’”
(This regiment didn’t do any good after it arrived. It was whipped at once, driven out of the city, and every effort was made by the strikers and their friends to have its commanding officer indicted for murder, because he defended himself when he was attacked.)
“That’s the worst news I have heard yet,” said Curtis, anxiously. “We’ve got about four hundred stand of arms and two thousand ball cartridges in the armory.”
“That’s so!” exclaimed the boys, in concert.
“And if the men who are employed on this railroad should take it into their heads to come here and get them—eh?” continued Curtis. “It would be worse than the fight with the Mount Pleasant Indians, wouldn’t it?”
“I should say so,” cried Hopkins, growing alarmed. “But these Bordentown fellows are all right yet.”
“They’ve struck,” said Don. “My paper says that Hamilton is in an uproar, that business is virtually suspended, that the mob is growing bolder every hour, and that the 61st has been ordered to hold itself in readiness to march at a moment’s notice.”
“I know that,” said Hopkins. “The strikers have stopped all the freights, but they haven’t yet interfered with the mail trains, nor have they attempted any violence.”
“If they would only stick to that, they would have a good deal of sympathy,” said Curtis. “But when they defy the law and trample upon the rights of other people, they ought to be put down with an iron hand, and I hope they will be.”
“You may have a chance to assist at it,” said Egan.
“I shouldn’t wonder if he did,” exclaimed Don, when the other boys smiled incredulously. “Mark my words: There’s going to be trouble in Hamilton. There are a good many car-shops and founderies there, and one regiment, which numbersonly four hundred and fifty men, can’t be everywhere.
“And of those four hundred and fifty men how many do you suppose there are who do not sympathize with the strikers?” asked Egan.
“There are at least two companies—the Hamilton Tigers and the Sanford Guards,” replied Hopkins. “You can depend on them every time.”
“And if the others show a disposition to get up on their ears, there will be visiting troops enough to handle them without gloves,” observed Curtis.
“I am afraid not,” answered Don. “Rumor says that the most, if not all, the regiments that were expected to be there, have been ordered, by the adjutant-generals of their respective States, to stay at home.”
“And some of the firemen have given notice that they will not turn out,” added Hopkins.
“That knocks the parade higher than a kite,” exclaimed Egan. “Well, there’s no loss without some gain. The prospect of marching with the 61st, had a good effect on me. It made me study hard and behave myself. Hallo! what’s the matter with you? Any startling news?”
This question was addressed to Sergeants Gordon and Elmer, who just then hurried up, bringing with them pale and anxious faces.
“Oh, fellows!” stammered Bert. “We’re going to have trouble right here at the academy.”
“No!” exclaimed all the boys at once.
“But I say we are,” said Bert; who then went on to tell what had happened to Elmer and himself just a few minutes before. They had been sent to the village on business, and in going and coming they were obliged to pass the railroad depot. They noticed that there were a good many men gathered on the platform and standing around in little groups, all talking in low and earnest tones, but no one paid any attention to them until they came back, and then one of the truck hands, who was dressed in his Sunday clothes, stepped out and confronted them.
“Arrah, me foine gentlemen,” said he, nodding with his head and winking his eyes vigorously, “it’s a swate little rod we have in pickle fur yees, intirely; do yees moind that?”
The boys made no reply. They turned out and tried to go by the man, but he spread out his arms and stopped them both.
“We’ll have thim foine soldier clothes aff the back of yees the day,” said he, with a leer.
“Be good enough to let us pass,” said Bert. “We have no desire to talk to you.”
“Haven’t yees now? Well,I’llspake toyees. Yer foine lookin’ little b’ys to be takin’ the brid from the mouth of the wurrukin’ mon an’ his childer, so ye are. I’ve a moind to knock the hids aff yees.”
“Move on there, Mickey,” commanded a policeman.
“Shure I will; but moind this, the hul of yees: We have min enough, an’ there’s more comin’ from Hamilton, to take all the arrums yees have up there to the school-house beyant, and there’ll not be a soldier nor a polace lift the night. We’ll trample them into the ground like the dirt under our feet; an’ so we will do with all the big min who want to grind down the wurrukin’ mon; ain’t that so, me brave b’ys?”
The “brave boys” who were standing around did not confirm these words, and neither did they deny them. They looked sullen and savage, and the two sergeants were glad to hurry on and leave them out of sight.
“He said they were going to clean us out to-night, did he,” exclaimed Don, when Bert had finished his story. “Well, they will have a good time of it. Some of the boys are pretty fair shots.”
“Oh, I hope it won’t come to that,” said Sergeant Elmer.
“So do I,” said Don. “But there’s only one way to reason with a mob, and that is to thrash them soundly.”
“I don’t see why that man should pitch into us,” observed Bert. “If he would go to work, he would get bread enough for himself and his children. If the working man is ‘ground down’ we had no hand in it.”
“Of course not,” said Egan. “But you wear a uniform and are supposed to be strongly in favor of law and order.”
“And we are, too,” said Bert, emphatically.
“Well, that man knew it, and that was the reason he talked to you in the way he did,” continued Egan. “He and his kind hate a soldier as cordially as they hate the police, because the soldier is always ready to step in and help the policeman when the mob gets too strong for him; andwhen the boys in blue take a hand in the muss, the rioters generally hear something drop. Now, Bert, you and Elmer had better go and report to the superintendent.”
All that day the excitement at the academy was intense, and it was no wonder that the lessons were bad, that such faithful fellows as Mack, Egan, Curtis and Bert Gordon came in for the sternest reprimands, or that the teachers looked worried and anxious—all except Professor Odenheimer. He was in his element, for he scented the battle from afar. His lectures were full of fight, and never had his classes listened to them with so much interest. When night came the excitement increased. It was plain that the superintendent had received information which led him to believe that it was best to be prepared for any emergency, for the guards were doubled, mattresses were issued to the members of the first company who bunked in the armory, and the boys who went on post were supplied with ball cartridges.
Another thing that increased the excitement and added to the general disquiet and alarm, was the rumor that all idea of a parade had been abandoned, and that the brigade commander had askedthe superintendent what he could do for him, if help were needed at Hamilton. There was a mob there, and it was having things all its own way. It was growing stronger and bolder all the while, the police were afraid of it, the majority of the soldiers sympathized with it, and the only company that had done anything was the Hamilton Tigers, which had cleared the depot at the point of the bayonet.
“Didn’t I say there would be trouble in the city before this thing was settled?” asked Don Gordon of some of his friends whom he met in the armory when dress parade was over.
“And didn’t I say that the Tigers would do their duty every time?” answered Hopkins. “But do you suppose the superintendent will order any of us down there?”
“Why shouldn’t he?” inquired Curtis in his quiet way.
“Because we don’t belong to the National Guard, and there is no precedent for any such proceeding,” answered Hopkins.
“There’s where you are mistaken,” said Egan. “The students at the Champaign Agricultural College in Illinois didn’t belong to the NationalGuard, but when Chicago was burned some of them were ordered up there to protect property, and I never heard it said that they didn’t do their duty as well as men could have done it. It will be no boy’s play, but I shall hold myself in readiness to volunteer with the company that is ordered down there.”
“Well, I won’t,” said a voice.
The boys looked around and saw Williams, Jones, Lester Brigham and several of that crowd standing close by. The faces of the most of them were very pale, and Lester was trembling visibly. Under ordinary circumstances they would have been ordered away at once; but class etiquette was forgotten now. The young soldiers had something else to think about.
“I didn’t come here to fight,” continued Enoch Williams, “and I won’t do it, either.”
“How are you going to help yourself?” asked Curtis. “Will you skip over to Canada? That’s what some of the Hamilton boys have done.”
“No; but I’ll refuse to do duty, and stay here under arrest,” replied Enoch.
“And be court-martialed for cowardice and disgracefully dismissed the academy when the troubleis over,” said Egan. “Don’t let the people down in Maryland hear of it, Enoch. They’ll cut you, sure.”
“I don’t care if they do,” was the defiant response. “I have no desire to be knocked in the head with a coupling-pin.”
The other boys didn’t want to be treated that way either, but they had no intention of shirking their duty. They didn’t care to talk with Enoch and his friends, and so they turned away and left them alone.
There was little sleeping done in the academy that night, and those who did slumber kept one eye and both ears open, and were ready to jump at the very first note of alarm. It came shortly after midnight. All on a sudden the clear blast of a bugle rang through the silent building, being followed an instant later by the “long roll.” There was a moment’s hush, and then hasty footsteps sounded in the different halls, and heavy blows were showered upon the dormitory doors, mingled with loud cries of, “Fall in! Fall in!”
“The mob has come! Now we’ll know how it seems to engage in a real battle,” were the words with which each boy encouraged his room-mate,as he sprang out of bed and pulled on his clothes. “The rioters at Hamilton number ten thousand men; and if they have all come up here, what can three hundred boys do with them?”
There were some pale faces among the young soldiers who jerked open their doors and ran at the top of their speed towards the armory, but not one of them was seen to falter. Some of themdidfalter, however, but we shall see that they did not escape detection.
In a great deal less than the six minutes that were usually allotted for falling in in the morning, the majority of the boys were in line and ready for business. And that there was business to be done they did not doubt, for no sooner had the companies been formed than they were marched down the stairs in double time and out of the building, which in a few seconds more was surrounded by a wall of bayonets; but they could neither see nor hear anything of the mob.
“I say, Hop,” whispered Don to his fat friend who stood next to him in the ranks, “this is another put-up job. There are no cartridges in my box.”
“That’s so,” said Hopkins, after he had satisfiedhimself that his own box was empty. “The teachers only wanted to test our pluck.”
Just then the big bell in the cupola was struck once—half-past twelve—and a few seconds later the voice of a sentry rang out on the quiet air.
“No. 1. All’s well!” shouted the guard; and this assurance removed a heavy burden of anxiety from the mind of more than one boy in the ranks.
The whole thing was out now, and as there was nothing to be gained by standing there in the dark, the companies were marched back to the armory and the roll was called. The ranks of the first and second companies were full, Jones and a few like him were missing from Don’s, and Bert found, to his great mortification, that fully a dozen of his men had failed to respond to their names. The reports were made through the usual channels, and when the result was announced to the superintendent, he ordered details from the third and fourth companies to hunt up the delinquents. The rest of the battalion were brought to “parade rest” and kept there, until the missing boys were brought in. Some of them had been taken ill as soon as they heard the order to fall in; others had sought safety and concealment in the attic; anda few had been found in the cellar and pulled out of the coal-bins. They looked very crestfallen and ashamed when they found themselves drawn up in line in full view of their companions, and expected to receive the sternest kind of a reprimand; but the superintendent did not once look toward them.
“Young gentlemen,” said he, addressing himself to the boys who stood in the ranks, “I am much pleased with the result of my experiment. I did not expect so prompt a response from so many of you. The honors belong to the third company. It was the first to fall in, and Captain Mack was the first to report himself and his men ready for duty. I shall bear that company in mind. You can now return to your respective dormitories and go to sleep with the full assurance that there is no mob here and none coming. All is quiet in the city. The 61st is under arms, but no trouble is apprehended. Break ranks!”
“Attention, company! Carry arms! Right face! Arms port! Break ranks, march!” shouted the several captains; and the boys scattered and deposited their muskets in their proper places, each one congratulating himself and hisneighbor on the indefinite postponement of the fight with the mob, which the most of them believed would be sure to take place sooner or later. The members of Don’s company had reason to be proud of themselves, but there were some among them who shook their heads dubiously whenever they recalled the superintendent’s words: “I shall bear that company in mind.” What did he mean by that?
“It means that if the authorities at Hamilton need help in putting down that mob, we third company boys will have to give it,” said Egan, in reply to a question propounded to him by Captain Mack.
“What do you mean bywe?” inquired the captain. “You don’t belong to my company.”
“Yes, I do, and so do Hop and Curtis,” answered Egan. “We intend to report for duty in the morning; and as long as this strike lasts, we are to stand post and do duty like the rest of the boys. We asked permission of the superintendent to-day, and he granted it.”
Of course he granted it. Faithful students, like these three boys, were allowed to do pretty nearly as they pleased. It was the idle and unruly who were denied privileges.
“I am glad to welcome such fellows as you are into my family,” said Captain Mack. “But why didn’t you go into the first company where you belong?”
“We belong wherever it suits us to go,” said Egan, in reply. “And it suits us to be with you and Don Gordon. Look here, Mack: If worst comes to worst, and the superintendent calls for volunteers, you be the first to jump. Do you hear? Good night and pleasant dreams.”
The students hastened back to their rooms, and feeling secure from an attack by the mob, the most of them slept; but their dreams, like Captain Mack’s, were none of the pleasantest. More than one of them started up in alarm, believing that he heard the order to fall in. They all expected it, and it came the next day about eleven o’clock, but the majority of the boys did not know it until dinner time; and then Don Gordon, who had been acting as the superintendent’s orderly that morning, rushed frantically about the building looking for Egan and the rest.
“The time has come, fellows,” said he, when he found them. “Some of us will have to face the music now.”
“How do you know?” asked Egan and his friends, in a breath.
“The superintendent received a despatch from the city a short time ago.”
“Do you know what was in it?”
“I do, for I heard him read it to one of the teachers. It ran: ‘Hold a company, provided with ten rounds per man, ready to move at short notice.’ The answer that went back was: ‘The company is ready.’”
“Whew!” whistled Curtis, while the others looked at one another in blank amazement.
“But I don’t see how that company is to get to Hamilton,” said Hopkins, at length. “There are no trains running to-day. Everything is as quiet as it is on Sunday.”
“They will go by special train,” said Don. “There are a good many passengers and a big mail that were left at Munson last night when the engineer of the lightning express was taken by force from his cab, and the mob has agreed to let them come on to Hamilton. It was all talked over in my hearing.”
“And our boys are to go on that train, are they?”
“Yes; if they get marching orders in time.”
“Then there’ll be trouble. Remember what I tell you; there will be the biggest kind of a fuss down there,” said Curtis, earnestly. “The rioters didn’t agree to let soldiers into the city, and they won’t do it, either.”
“Did it ever occur to you, that very possibly the wishes of the rabble will not be consulted?” inquired Hopkins. “I hope that company will go in if it is needed there, and that the very first man who fires a stone into its ranks will get hurt.”
Just then the enlivening notes of the dinner-call sounded through the building, and the students made all haste to respond to it. The different companies formed in their respective halls, but when they had been aligned and brought to a right face by their quartermaster-sergeants, the captains took command, ordered the sergeants to their posts, and marched their men to the armory instead of to the dining-hall. They all wondered what was going to happen now, and they were not kept long in suspense.
“Young gentlemen,” said the superintendent, when all the companies had come into line, “our friends in Hamilton are in need of assistance, andwe, being law-loving and law-abiding men and boys, and utterly opposed to mob rule, can not refuse to give it to them. It may be—nay, I am sure, from what I have heard, that it is a mission of danger; and therefore I shall not ask any of you to go to the city against your will. Those of you who are in favor of the law, and who have the courage to enforce it if you are called upon to do so, will step three paces to the front.”
These words, which were spoken so rapidly that those who heard them did not have time to think twice, fairly stunned the boys. Egan, who stood next the first sergeant of the third company, was the first to recover himself. Reaching around behind the sergeant he gave Captain Mack a prod in the ribs with his fist that fairly knocked him out of his place in the ranks; but it brought him to his senses, and raising his hand to his cap the captain said:
“I speak for my company, sir.”
“Your services are accepted,” said the superintendent. “You are too late, young gentlemen,” he added, addressing himself to the boys in the first and second companies who moved forward in a body, together with the majority of the membersof Bert’s company. “You ought to have had an old first-sergeant in your ranks to wake you up.”
This was Greek to some of the students, but Mack understood it and so did Egan. So did the boys directly behind them, who had seen Egan strike the captain in the ribs to “wake him up.”
“If your conduct last night is any criterion, I shall have reason to be proud of you when you return,” continued the superintendent, turning to the third company boys. “I shall expect you to do your duty regardless of consequences; and in order that you may work to the best advantage, I shall make some changes in yourpersonnel.”
Here the superintendent paused and looked at the adjutant, who stepped forward and drew his note-book from his pocket.
“Mack, you’re a brick,” said Egan, in an audible whisper.
“He’s a born fool,” said Jones to the boy who stood next him. “I didn’t give him authority to speak for me, and I’ll not stir one step. If he wants to go down there and be pounded to death by that mob, he can go and welcome; but he shall not drag me along with him.”
“It is not expected that boys who take refuge in the attic or hide in coal-bins, or who are seized with the pangs of sickness at the very first notes of a false alarm, would be of any use to you if you should get into trouble,” added the superintendent. “Consequently those boys will be permitted to remain at the academy. As fast as their names are called they will fall out of the ranks and form a squad by themselves under command of Sergeant Elmer, who will have charge of them until their company returns.”
Some of those who had behaved with so much timidity the night before, thought this the severest punishment that could be inflicted upon them. They were virtually branded as cowards in the presence of the whole school, and they felt it most keenly; but the others, those who had determined to be sent down since their parents would not allow them to leave the academy, as they wanted to do, did not seem to mind it at all. They were perfectly willing to be disgraced. They fell out of the ranks as their names were called, and after their places had been supplied by boys from the first and second companies whom the superintendentknew he could trust, they were all marched down to the dining-hall.
There was little dinner eaten that day, for their excitement took away all their appetites. The hum of animated conversation arose above the clatter of knives and forks from all except the third company boys, who were already looked upon as heroes by some of their companions. They were going down to the city to face an infuriated mob, and who can tell what the result might be? These boys talked only in whispers, and the all-absorbing question with them was: What teacher would be sent in command of them? Everybody seemed to think it would be Professor Odenheimer, who, by his fiery lectures, had now the appellation of “Fighting Jacob,” which the students transformed into “Viting Yawcop.” Everybody seemed to think, too, that if he were sent in command, they would stand a fine chance of getting into a fight, whether the mob forced it upon them or not.
The study-call was not sounded that afternoon, because the teachers knew that there would be no studying done. The students gathered in little groups in the building and about the grounds, and there was an abundance of talk, argument andspeculation. They were all anxious for news, and it did not take long to raise a crowd. If a teacher, an officer or an orderly stopped for a moment to exchange a word or two with one of the students, they were very soon joined by a third, the number was rapidly augmented, and a large assembly was quickly gathered. The wildest rumors were freely circulated as facts, and if the third company boys had believed half they heard, it is hard to tell whether or not their courage would have stood the test. The excitement arose to fever-heat when a messenger-boy, who had been passed by the sentry at the gate, ran up the walk with a brown envelope in his hand.
“What is it? What is it?” cried the students, as he dashed through their ranks.
“It’s for the superintendent,” was the boy’s reply.
“But what does it say?”
“Don’t know; only there’s the very mischief to pay down at Hamilton. The special is due in fifteen minutes.”
“Then we’re off, boys,” said Egan; and so it proved. A few minutes after the messenger-boy vanished through the door, a sergeant appeared onthe steps and cried out: “Fall in, third company!” whereupon all the boys made a rush for the armory. Don and his comrades made all haste to put on their belts and epaulets and take their muskets from the racks, while the rest of the students drew themselves up in line behind the teachers so that they could see all that was going on.
“Fall in!” commanded the first sergeant. “Left face! Support arms! Listen to roll-call!”
Each boy in the ranks brought his piece to a “carry” and then to “order arms,” as his name was called, and when this ceremony was completed the company was again brought to a “carry,” and ordered to “count fours”; after which the sergeant proceeded to divide it into platoons. Then he faced about, saluted his commander and said, with a ring of triumph in his tones:
“All present, sir.”
There was no one hiding in the attic or coal-bins this time.
“Fix bayonets,” said the captain.
The sergeant gave the order and moved to his place on the right of the company, leaving thecaptain in command. His first move was to open the ranks, and his next to order the quartermaster-sergeant to supply each man with ten rounds of ammunition. Candor compels us to say that the sergeant did not strictly obey this order. He was careful to put ten cartridges, and no more, into each box, but he did not scruple to put three or four extra ones into the hand that was holding the box open.
By this time the boys had found out who was to be their real commander. It was Mr. Kellogg, the most popular instructor at the academy. He was a modest, unassuming gentleman, but he was a soldier all over. He had served in the army of the Potomac, and had twice been carried to the rear and laid among the dead. The boys knew he was going with them, for he was dressed in fatigue uniform and wore a sword by his side.
The cartridges having been distributed and the company brought to close order, it was marched out of the armory and down the stairs. When the other students saw it preparing to move, they rushed out in a body, ran to the gate, and drawing themselves up in line on each side of the walk, stood ready to give their friends a good “send off.”When the company marched through their ranks, led by the band which was to accompany it to the depot, they broke out into deafening cheers, which Captain Mack and his men answered with a will. Don caught just one glimpse of his brother’s face as he passed. It was whiter than his own.
The students followed the company as far as the gate, and then ran along the fence to keep it in view as long as they could; but all they could see of it were the bayonets, the young soldiers themselves being wholly concealed by the crowd of citizens who had assembled to see them off. The men cheered them lustily, the ladies waved their handkerchiefs, and the girls threw flowers at them until a bend in the road hid them from sight. Then the boys who were left behind turned away from the fence, and walked slowly toward the academy.
“I’d much rather be here than with them,” said Jones to his friend Lester, and the latter did not doubt it, for Jones was one of the boys who had been found in the cellar. Lester had hidden his head under the bed-clothes when he heard the bugle, and pleaded sickness when Bert Gordon and his squad came to pull him out. “I suppose theteachers think I feel very much disgraced because I was left behind, but I don’t. I didn’t come here to fight, and when my father hears of this, he will tell me to start for home at once. But I shan’t go until I get a good ready, and then I am going in my own way. I am going to do something that will make these fellows remember me. I said it long ago, and I mean it.”
“It is my opinion that this day’s work will break up this school,” observed Enoch Williams. “I know my father will not allow me to stay here after he hears of it.”
“Wouldn’t this be a good time to go off on our cruise?” inquired Lester.
“I am afraid not,” answered Jones. “I should like to go this very night; but as things look now, I am of the opinion that we shall have to wait until next month. We don’t want to fail when we make the attempt, for if we do, we shall be watched closer than we are now.”
“I don’t want to stay here,” said Lester. “Suppose they should need more help in the city, and that my company should be ordered down there?”
“You need not waste any time in worrying overthat,” was the encouraging reply. “Your company is composed of nothing but raw recruits; and even if it should be ordered there,youwouldn’t go. You would be told to stay behind, as I was.”
Lester found some satisfaction in this assurance, but he found none whatever in being snubbed as he was. Even the boys in his own company—those who had promptly responded when ordered to fall in the night before—would not look at him. If two of them were talking and Lester came up to hear what they were saying, they would turn their backs upon him without ceremony and walk away. All the boys who had concealed themselves or played off sick when the false alarm was sounded, were treated in the same way by their fellows, and all the companionship they could find was in the society of students who were as timid as they were. This had at least one good effect, so Lester thought. It brought many friends to the boys who intended to desert the academy and run away in the yacht, and before the day was over Lester, Jones and Enoch had revealed their scheme to half a dozen or more new fellows, who heartily approved of it and promised to aid them by everymeans in their power. But after all they did not take as much interest in, or show as much enthusiasm for, the scheme, as Lester and the rest thought they ought to. The strike was the all-absorbing topic of conversation, and the possible fate of the boys who had gone down to the city to confront the mob, made many an anxious face.
Although all study was over for the day, everything else was done as usual, but nothing was done well. The students were thinking of something beside their duties, and made blunders and received reprimands without number. As the hours wore on, the excitement gave place to alarm. The third company ought to have reached Hamilton at eight o’clock, if everything had gone well with them, and now it was long after ten and not a despatch had been received.
“I am really afraid something has happened to them, Sam,” said Sergeant Gordon, as he and Corporal Arkwright paced up and down the walk in front of the guard-room in which sat the German professor, who was deeply interested in his paper. These two boys were on duty until midnight, and they wished they were going to stay on until morning, for they knew they could not sleepif they tried. “My brother promised to telegraph me just as soon as he reached the city,” continued Bert, “and he would surely have done so, if something had not occurred to——”