While I was walking with Waddie from the pier to his father’s house,
I deemed it necessary to ask myself whether or not I was “toadying”
to the son of the rich man of Centreport. I should have despised
myself if I had believed such was the case. Both my father and myself
were determined to be independent, in the true sense of the word. We
had discussed the meaning of the word, and reached the conclusion
that genuine independence was not impudence, a desire to provoke a
quarrel, or anything of that kind. We agreed that the term was often
misunderstood and abused.
But true independence was a genuine self-respect, which would not
allow its possessor to cringe before the mighty, or to sacrifice honor
and integrity for the sake of money or position. Doubtless both of us
had been guilty, to some extent, of this subserviency; but we were
determined not to fall below our standard again. Colonel Wimpleton
and Major Toppleton had money and influence; but we had skill and
labor. We could do without them quite as well as they could do without
us. Avoiding all conspiracies, all impudence, and all intentions to
quarrel, we meant to maintain our own self-respect. If neither of the
great men wanted us, we could go elsewhere, and “paddle our own canoe”
to our own satisfaction.
I may say that my father and I had made a kind of compact of this
nature; and when I found myself, to my great astonishment, and almost
to my chagrin, to be hand and glove with Waddie, I began to suspect
that I had been sacrificing myself to the mammon of influence. But a
little reflection assured me I was not guilty of the charge. I had
saved my new friend from a disgraceful and humiliating ordeal only
from a sense of duty, and not with the intention of “currying favor”
with him. I had told him, fairly and squarely, what I thought of him,
and what others thought of him. As I considered what I had said to him
I found no occasion to reproach myself. On the contrary, so far as
appearances went, I had converted Waddie from the error of his ways.
My companion was gentle and kind to me. He acted like an altered
person--using no harsh or bullying language and appearing to be only
anxious to ascertain what was right, in order that he might do it. I
followed him into his father’s library, where a cheerful fire blazed in
the grate, and we seated ourselves before it. I had hardly ever been in
this room before, though I had frequently visited the major’s library.
“Wolf, just as the _Belle_ came up to the pier I asked what you would
do if you were in my place,” said Waddie, after we had comfortably
disposed ourselves in the cushioned armchairs. “You did not answer me.”
“You ask me hard questions, Waddie,” I replied, laughing. “I do know
what I should do if I were in your place, but I do not like to set
myself up as your adviser.”
“I ask you to do it. I will thank you for it.”
“I will tell you what I think, and then you can do as you like. I can
give you advice; but you are not obliged to follow it, you know.”
“Don’t you be so afraid to speak, Wolf!” added Waddie rather
impatiently.
“Well, then, in the first place, I should make my peace with all the
fellows, whether in the institute or not.”
“I’m going to do that; but the thing of it is, how to do it.”
“You have been riding a high horse. You are major, president, and I
don’t know what not. You have used those positions to tyrannize over
and bully even your best friends.”
“Well?” said he, as I paused to note the effect of these words upon him.
“You must put yourself in a humble position, to begin with.”
“I’ll do it!” exclaimed he, with enthusiasm. “I’ll do anything you say,
if it is to go down on my knees before the ragged little rowdies in the
streets of Centreport.”
“I shall not advise you to do anything of that kind; but, under the
circumstances, I should resign the positions of major and president.”
“Resign them!”
“Yes; I would show the fellows first that I am as willing to obey as I
am to command. The fellows mean mutiny, both in the steamboat company
and in the battalion.”
“I’ll do it. What next?” he asked, rubbing his hands, in humble
imitation of his magnificent father, when he was pleased.
“I should take my place in the battalion as a private, do my duty
faithfully, and obey my officers in every respect. As a stockholder
in the company, I should behave modestly, and not attempt to carry my
points by bullying, or any other unfair practises. In any and every
capacity, if I had an opportunity to do a kindness to either friend or
enemy, I should do it, even at some considerable personal sacrifice.
But I don’t wish to burden you with my opinions.”
“I thought you would tell me to go to the Sunday-school, or something
of that sort.”
“I certainly recommend that; but I was speaking only of your relations
with the boys in the vicinity. If you have a good heart, you will do
your duty.”
“There will be a meeting of the steamboat company next week. I will
have my resignation ready. Oh, I am in earnest,” protested Waddie.
“Perhaps you had better consult your father. I don’t want you to act
blindly on my advice. He may not think it best for you to do as I say.”
“I know he won’t; and for that reason I shall not say anything to him.
I’m not going to say anything against my father; but I know what’s
what.”
“But you may endanger his interests in the steamer,” I suggested.
“No; the directors can’t do anything without his approval. There is no
danger. Besides, my father is as cross as a bear lately. The railroad
on the other side is beating us every day. He has been quarreling with
the captain and engineer for a week.”
“Is it their fault that the boat is beaten?” I inquired.
“Father thinks it is, in part. The engineer won’t drive the boat, and
the captain is a slow coach.”
Waddie had scarcely made his explanation before the library door
opened, and Colonel Wimpleton bolted into the room. He appeared to be
much excited, threw down his hat, and seemed to be disposed to smash
things. He did not see me at first; but when he discovered my presence
he came up to me, and, to my great astonishment, offered me his hand.
He glanced curiously at Waddie, as he realized the fact that his son
was on good terms with me.
“I’m glad to see you, Wolf,” said he, as he grasped my hand. “I suppose
you thought I had forgotten you; but I have not. A Wimpleton never
forgets a friendly act, nor forgives a malicious one. What’s up,
Waddie?” he continued, as he turned to his son.
“Wolf and I are the best friends in the world, father,” replied Waddie.
“Ain’t we, Wolf?”
“That’s so, just now; and I hope it will always continue,” I replied.
“Oh, it will!” persisted Waddie.
“It’s rather odd, to say the least,” added the colonel, with an
incredulous stare at both of us.
“I’ll tell you how it happened,” said Waddie.
And he related the history of the events of the morning, and gave me
all the credit, and rather more, I thought, than I deserved.
“That was handsome of you, Wolf, after all that has happened. But who
were these rascals? I will make an end of them!”
“We didn’t know who they were; and we couldn’t find out.”
“I shall find out!”
Perhaps he would; but at that moment the captain and engineer of the
_Ucayga_ were announced, and the colonel began to look as savage as
when he entered the room. The servant was told to admit them.
“The villains!” gasped the great man. “They were half an hour behind
time this morning, though they did not wait for the up-lake boats.”
“Perhaps they were not to blame, father,” suggested Waddie mildly.
“Not to blame! Do you think I don’t know?”
The two men entered the library, hat in hand. They were brothers,
which, perhaps, is the only explanation which can be offered of the
fact that they adhered to each other in the present difficulty.
“Colonel Wimpleton, we came up to say that we have concluded not to
run in the _Ucayga_ any longer,” said the captain, with considerable
deference, though there was a kind of dogged firmness in his tones and
in his looks.
“Well, sir!” snapped the colonel.
“We have done our best, but we can’t please you.”
“You can’t please me by being half an hour behind time every day.”
“It isn’t my fault,” protested the captain. “And I won’t be insulted,
as I have been to-day before all my passengers. You may get a new
captain and a new engineer as soon as you please.”
“None of your impudence!”
“My impudence is no worse than yours. You won’t find any men who can do
better than we have.”
“If I can’t, I will sink the boat in the middle of the lake.”
“We don’t want to talk; our time is out.”
“Don’t you mean to run the trip this afternoon?” demanded the colonel,
whose face suddenly flushed, as he saw the trick of his employees.
“No, sir! We do not,” replied the captain, a gleam of satisfaction on
his face, as he realized that he was punishing the great man.
“Don’t say a word, father. Let them go,” whispered Waddie.
“You will find that we are not slaves,” added the captain.
Colonel Wimpleton looked at his watch. It wanted only half an hour of
the advertised time to start the boat for Ucayga. He looked at Waddie,
looked at me, and then at the two men, who doubtless expected, by the
means they had chosen, to bring him down from “the high horse.” I
watched the great man with intense interest; and perhaps I was as much
excited as any person in the room.