THE STRUGGLE ON THE TOWER.
Toby was said to be the most thrifty and "forehanded" darkey in the
settlement. Like all the rest of the black people on Mr. Riley's
plantation he had a little garden-patch, and as he and his family were
industrious enough to cultivate it properly, they had vegetables to sell
at the "great house" and received cash in hand for them. Being a
minister, he did not think it right to spend much for clothing or
finery, and there were those who believed that he had a goodly sum of
money laid by. Bud Goble knew that his larder was generally well
supplied, and he had designs upon it now.
"What do you reckon your Moster would do to ye if I should take this
here docyment to him an' tell him I found you a-readin' of it?" Bud
demanded, looking sharply at Uncle Toby. "It's my duty to do it, kase I
b'long to the same committee that he does, bein' one of the most
respected an' prominent citizens of Barrington. That's the way my
letters come."
"Marse Bud," replied the negro (he did not dare venture on the surname
again for fear of exciting his visitor's wrath), "I didn't go for to do
wrong--I didn't for a fac'. Dat paper was gin to me--oh, laws, what am I
sayin'?"
"Speak it out, nigger," exclaimed Bud fiercely. "Who gin it to you, an'
how did he come by it in the first place?"
"Suah I don't know how he come by it, Marse Bud," replied Toby, who was
greatly alarmed. "I don't know what 'is name was, nudder, kase I nevah
seed him afo'. Dat's de Lawd's truth."
"No, I don't reckon it is," answered Bud, with a grim smile. "But as I
am here on other business, I won't say nothing more on that p'int at
this meetin'. I'll sorter hold it over ye like an overseer's whip, ready
to fall when you don't hoe your row like you had oughter. Do you want me
to take this here _Trybune_ to your Moster? Well, then, I want you to
sell me some of that fine tobacker of your'n. You told me t'other day
that you didn't have none; but I reckon you can find some if you look
around."
"Mebbe so, sah," replied Toby, with alacrity. His store was growing
small, but if by breaking into it he could purchase Bud Goble's silence,
he was perfectly willing to do it. He knew that he would never see a
cent for the tobacco, for Bud was much too hightoned to use "twist" when
he had money to invest in "store plug." He left the room, and in a few
minutes returned with three or four big "hanks," which he handed to his
visitor with the request that the latter would accept them with his
compliments.
"Didn't mean to rob ye, Toby," said Bud, as he wrenched a huge mouthful
from one of the "hanks" to test the quality. "But I'll tell ye what's a
fact. When I come home tonight, after a meetin' of that there Committee
of Safety I was tellin' you about, I found that I had plumb
disremembered to fetch along the bacon, meal, an' taters that my wife
done told me to bring, an' so I thought I would jest run over an' see if
I couldn't borry some of you to last me a few days."
Old Toby was astonished at the proposition. It was on the end of his
tongue to refuse point-blank; but when he glanced at Bud he thought
better of it. The latter was trying to look good-natured, but there was
an expression on his face that brought all the negro's fears back to him
with redoubled intensity. He saw very plainly that it would take more
than a few twists of tobacco to make Bud Goble keep his lips closed.
"Ise got a little meal an' some few taters, Marse Bud," said Toby
reluctantly. "But I tell you for a fac' dat de bacon we done drawed from
de oberseer won't las' de week out for my own folks, let alone giving
you some of it."
"Oh, well, I aint so sot on havin' bacon," replied Bud. "Give me two or
three of them yaller-legged chickens of yourn, an' they will do jest as
well. It's a mighty far ways back to town, an' I do despise walkin'
there in the dark," he continued, seeing that Toby hesitated. "It's
nigher to the great house, an' so I reckon I'll go up an' smoke a pipe
with Riley."
"Set down, Marse Bud," cried Toby hastily. "Set down in dat cheer an'
I'll have de things you want directly. An' say, Marse Bud, when I get
'em, will you give me dat paper?"
"Oh, yes; you can have the paper," said the visitor. And to show that he
meant what he said, he tossed it upon the nearest shakedown.
"Thank you, sah; thank you kindly," said Toby, with the mental
resolution that he would throw that tell-tale paper into the fire as
soon as the visitor took his leave. "If I see dat man agin I'll tell him
I don't want no mo' dat sort of trash to read. I'll be back in jes' a
minute."
Toby was gone a good deal longer than that, but when he returned he
brought with him two meal bags, partly filled, which he placed upon the
floor beside Bud Goble's chair. The latter thrust his arm into them, one
after the other, and found that the first contained corn meal enough to
keep him and his hungry family in hoe-cake until he could earn money
from the committee to buy more, and that there were three chickens and
about a peck of potatoes in the other.
"That's what I'm a-needin'," said he, with a satisfied chuckle. "I bid
you a kind goodnight, you an' your fambly; an' if I hear anybody talk
about takin' you out in the bresh an' lickin' on ye, I won't let 'em."
Toby stood in the door to "shoo off the dogs," and drew a long sigh of
relief when he saw his unwelcome guest disappear in the darkness.
"Dinah," said he, when he returned to the cabin, "de money you've got in
dat stockin' of yourn has got to be buried in de groun' somewhar de
first thing in de mawnin'. Ise dat skeared of having it in de house dat
I can't sleep. I thought sure dat Gobble white trash man gwine ask for
dat money."
Bud was not long in reaching home. He was so highly elated that he
seemed to be treading on air, and the distance was passed over almost
before he knew it. It was the source of great gratification to him to
learn, by actual test, that his relations with the Committee of Safety
put such power into his hands. There was one thing about it, he told
himself: From that time forward he and his family would have more and
better food to eat than they had ever had before, and be better clothed.
If the scheme he had just put into operation would work once, he was
positive it would succeed every time it was tried.
"There, now!" exclaimed Bud triumphantly, as he walked into his own
house and dropped the bags by the side of his wife's chair. "Two heads
are better'n one, if one is a woman's head. There's meal an' taters an'
chickens; now go on an' dish up a good supper. I'll get your dress
to-morrer."
"Where you goin' to get it?" inquired his wife, knocking the ashes from
her pipe and rising from her seat. The knowledge that there was food in
the house put a little energy into her, and at the same time quieted the
complaining children.
"I'm workin' this job for all there is into it, let me tell you,"
replied Bud, taking his wife's pipe from her hand and filling it for his
own benefit. "I ketched old preacher Toby with a babolition paper in his
hand, an' that's the way I come to get the grub an' tobacker. To-morrer
I'll go an' call on the storekeeper. He told me t'other day that he
wouldn't trust me no more, but I kinder think he'll change his mind when
I tell him that I'm onto that committee. An' then there's that Meth'dist
preacher, Elder Bowen, who I suspicion gin Toby that babolition
_Trybune._ There's a heap of hams an' side-meat in that smokehouse of
his'n, an' it sorter runs in my mind that I can talk him into givin' me
some of it."
"An' did you speak to Toby about the money they say he's got hid
somewheres?" asked Mrs. Goble, who was dressing two of the chickens
preparatory to consigning them to the kettle, which she had placed upon
the coals. "What business has he got to have money when white folks--"
"Set me down for a fuel!" exclaimed Bud, hitting his rheumatic leg such
a slap that he could hardly repress the howl of anguish that arose to
his lips. "There I was talkin' to him for as much as ten or fifteen
minutes an' never onct thought of that money. Well, there's another day
comin', an' Toby'll have to hand that money over or get whopped."
"An' if I was you," continued his wife, "I wouldn't say a blessed word
to nobody about it. Keep your business to yourself, kase if you don't,
them that helps you will want to share in what you get."
"Susie, you've got a long head an' that's a fac'," said Bud, who
wondered why he had not thought of all these little things himself.
"I'll bear them idees in mind. Now, punch up the fire a little an' let
me see if I can read what's into this letter. One of the most prominent
an' respected citizens of Barrington; that's what I be, an' the feller
who writ to me knows it."
Having lighted his pipe and waited until the blaze from the fire had
attained sufficient brightness, Bud drew the letter from his pocket and
read aloud:
"Dear sir and frind i take my pen in hand to let you know that you aint
doing as you had oughter do you are paid by the committee of safety to
keep an eye on all the abolitionists in the kentry and you dont do it
theres plenty of them in barington and a hul pile of them up to the
cademy wich is a disgrace to the town them boys some of them is spiling
for a licking sich as you and your frinds had oughter give them long ago
but aint done it and had oughter have a little sense knocked into their
heads why dont you send them warning to shet up or clear themselves
outen the federasy like the govment says they must do inside of ten days
theres that gray boy for one and that graham boy for an other but they
aint no kin though theyre awful sassy and need looking to if you dont
tend to business bettern this i shall have to see that the committee
gets some body else in your place hurra for jeff davis and the south and
long may she wave that is my moto."
Men of sense do not usually give a second thought to anonymous
communications, but put them into the fire as soon as they ascertain
their character; but Goble, of course, did not know this, and besides he
was not that sort of a fellow. He was not strictly honorable himself,
and was glad to receive hints, even if they came from a correspondent
who was too much of a coward to sign his name to what he had written. He
saw at once that he had been remiss in his duty, and the threat
contained in the closing lines made him a little uneasy.
"Land sakes, I plumb forgot to keep an eye on them boys at the 'cademy,"
he said, as he folded the letter and prepared to return it to the
envelope. As he did so, he found that there were a few lines written on
the outside which he had not before noticed. They ran as follows:
"Them boys I spoke of that gray and graham boy are the verry ones who
fooled you about that under ground rail road--"
When Bud read these words he hit his rheumatic leg another heavy blow,
and jumped to his feet with a fierce exclamation on his lips.
"So them's the fellers that fooled me, are they?" he shouted, as soon as
the pain in his leg would permit him to speak. "You haven't
disremembered how they offered me a cool hundred dollars in gold if I
would look around in the woods an' find the ladder or the stairs that
led down to that railroad, have you, Susie? If it hadn't been for Riley
I might have been lookin' for it yet. I said at the time that I would
get even with them for that, but I couldn't seem to find no way to do
it, kase I don't never have no dealin's with 'em; but I've got an idee
now. I wisht I could think up some way to get them two out in the woods
by theirselves. I'll have to have somebody to help me if I try that,
Susie."
As that was very evident to Mrs. Goble she made no reply, but went on
with her preparations for supper, while Bud smoked and meditated. When
the chickens, potatoes, and hoe-cake were declared to be ready, he did
not change his position, but grabbed what he wanted from the table, and
devoured it while sitting by the fire and trying to conjure up some plan
for making himself square with those fun-loving academy boys. He
inferred that they had been preaching Union doctrines at the school, but
Bud did not care a straw for that. He wanted to punish them for making
him search for that underground railroad. When the dishes were cleared
of everything eatable that had been placed upon them, and the table
moved back to its place, Bud stretched his heavy frame on the ground in
front of the fire and went to sleep, using his hat and boots for a
pillow.
At an early hour the next morning another serious inroad was made upon
the slender stock of provisions Bud had frightened out of old Uncle
Toby, and then Bud shouldered his long squirrel rifle, which he carried
with him wherever he went, and set out for Barrington, not forgetting to
assure his wife that she might confidently expect him to bring that new
dress when he returned at night. While he is on the way let us go back
to the academy and see what is taking place there.
The sentries who were on duty at daylight took note of the fact that
more than half the boys in school arose without waiting for _reveille._
Even a stranger would have known that there was something afoot. The
students gathered in little groups in the corridors and held mysterious
whisperings with one another, or sauntered around with their hands in
their pockets, as if in search of something they were in no particular
hurry to find; and while some seemed scarcely able to refrain from
laughing outright and dancing hornpipes, the faces of others wore a
resolute look that had a volume of meaning in it. Rodney Gray, with the
flag of the Confederacy tucked safely under the breast of his coat, took
a stroll about the building and grounds, looking sharply at every one he
met, and finally drew off on one side to compare notes with some of his
friends.
"I don't at all like the way the land lies," said he. "If Marcy and his
gang haven't something on their minds, they certainly act like it.
Graham, you know where the old flag is, do you not?"
"I do, for a fact. It is safe under lock and key, and in the keeping of
one who knows how to take care of it," answered Dick.
"I wish I had insisted on seeing it destroyed the minute you got hold of
it," continued Rodney. "Then I should know that there is no danger of
its being hoisted again."
"I pledge you my word that you will never again set eyes on that flag as
long as you remain at this academy," said Dick earnestly. "That
assurance ought to satisfy you."
"Perhaps it ought, but it doesn't," Rodney took occasion to say to
Billings and Cole a few seconds later, when Dick had gone off on some
business of his own. "I wish now that some true Southern boy had had
pluck enough to steal the flag, for then we should know where it is at
this moment. Marcy and his friends certainly suspect something; and if
they know that the colors are gone, they take it in an easy way I don't
like."
"Dick has given his word that we shall never see the flag again, and I
believe him," said Cole. "He is a good fellow and ought to be one of
us."
"Oh, he will come out all right, and so will Marcy," said Billings
confidently. "Wait till this excitement culminates in a fight, and then
you will see a big change of opinion among these weak-kneed chaps. They
expect a skirmish this morning and are prepared for it. We'll see fun
before that new flag of ours goes up on the tower, and I'll bet on it."
"Boom!" said the gun, whereupon the drums began their racket, and the
fifes piped forth the first strains of the morning call. The boys all
started on the run for the court (a large glass-covered room in the
center of the building which was used for morning inspection, and for
drills and parades when stormy weather prevailed), and when the roll had
been called, the sergeants of the several companies reported all present
or accounted for. But still there were some boys missing, and no report
was made as to their whereabouts. A familiar voice answered to Marcy
Gray's name, but it was not Marcy's voice. Rodney's quick ear detected
the cheat, and when ranks were broken he looked everywhere for his
cousin, but he was not to be seen. With frantic gestures Rodney summoned
a few of his right-hand men to his side and communicated his fears to
them in hasty, whispered words.
"Seen Marcy during roll-call?" he inquired.
No one had. Didn't he answer to his name?
"No, he did not," replied Rodney, hastily scanning the faces of the
students that filed by him on their way out of the court. "Somebody
answered 'here,' but it wasn't Marcy. The sergeant must know where he
is, for he reported the company present or accounted for."
"Doesn't that go to show that Marcy and the chap who answered to his
name, as well as the sergeant himself, must be in some sort of a plot?"
inquired Billings.
"I'll bet they are on the tower," declared Rodney. "Let's go up there,
quick."
Rodney's friends did not at first see what Marcy could be doing on the
tower, for had not Dick Graham assured them that the flag was all right,
and that they would never see it hoisted again? But if Marcy suspected
that his Cousin Rodney would make an effort to run up his new
Confederate flag in place of the Stars and Stripes, might it not be that
he and a chosen squad had taken possession of the tower, intending to
hold it so that Rodney could not carry out his design? If that was the
case there was bound to be a struggle more or less desperate, and
Rodney's adherents would be expected to be on hand; so they followed him
to the top of the tower, but halted when they got there, astonished and
appalled at the scene that was presented to their gaze. The cousins were
clinched and swaying about in alarming proximity to the low parapet,
over which they were in imminent danger of falling to the ground; the
sentry on duty was vainly endeavoring to part them by placing his musket
between the struggling boys and crowding them toward the middle of the
tower; and Marcy Gray was clinging to the halliards leading up to the
masthead, from which the starry flag was floating in all its glory. It
was not the old flag, however, but a newer and better one, whose glossy
folds had never before been kissed by the breeze.
"Stop this!" shouted Cole, recovering himself by an effort and darting
forward to assist in separating the angry and reckless boys. "Haven't
you any sense left? A misstep on the part of one would be the death of
both of you. Don't you know that the academy is four stories high, and
that the tower runs up one story higher? Let go, Rodney. Give me those
halliards, Marcy."
"Stand back, both of you!" cried the latter. "I'd rather go over than
give up the halliards. If I had two hands I would very soon end the
fracas, but I haven't a friend to hold the ropes while I defend
myself."
[Illustration: THE STRUGGLE FOR THE FLAG.]
Perhaps he hadn't when he began speaking, but a second or two later he
had plenty of them. Hasty steps sounded in the hall below and came up
the ladder, and in less time than it takes to write it the top of the
tower was covered with boys. The last one who came up turned about and
slammed down the trap-door through which he had gained access to the
roof. It was Dixon, the tall student who had compelled the orderly to
fold the flag properly, and who afterward told Dick Graham right where
to find it. Being a Kentuckian, he was just now "on the fence," and
ready to jump either way, according as his State decided to go out of
the Union or remain in it. He was opposed to secession, and that being
the case, it was strange that he should afterward find himself enrolled
among John Morgan's raiders, but that was right where he brought up.
Although he was a close student, a good soldier, and one of the best
fellows that ever lived withal, he was at any time ready for a fight or
a frolic, and it didn't make any great difference to him which it was.
"Now," said he cheerfully, as he closed the trap-door behind him, "we
can have a quiet squabble and no one can come up to interfere with us.
But look here, boys," he added, stepping to the parapet and looking
over. "It's a mighty far ways to the ground--five stories or so--and if
you go down, you will be sure to get hurt. On the whole, I think we had
better adjourn for a while."
Rodney knew just how to take these words. Like that notice in the
post-office, "there was reading between the lines." Seeing that he and
his friends were taken at disadvantage and greatly outnumbered, he
thought it best to handle his cousin with a little less rudeness; but he
would not cease his efforts to pull down that hated flag and hoist his
own Stars and Bars until he was compelled to do so. He let go his hold
upon his cousin and seized the halliards.
"Never mind the relationship," he yelled, when Marcy said that if Rodney
were not his cousin he would be tempted to thrash him within an inch of
his life. "I am more ashamed of it than you can possibly be. Let go
those halliards."
"Looks as though there might be a slight difference of opinion between
the parties most interested, and there's no telling who is Governor
until after the election," said Dixon quietly. "But I respectfully
submit that the top of a high tower is no place to settle a dispute that
may end in a scrimmage. We don't want to begin killing one another until
we have to, and there are two ways in which the matter can be arranged:
Wait until after dark, and then go silently to the parade and have it
over before anybody knows a thing about it, or else kiss and make
friends right here."
Dick Graham, who had thus far kept himself on the other side of the
belfry out of sight, broke into a loud laugh when Dixon, speaking with
the utmost gravity, made the last proposition. Dick had a cheery,
wholehearted laugh, and the effect was contagious. The laugh became
general and finally such an uproar arose that the students at the foot
of the tower, who had been watching proceedings on the top with no
little interest and anxiety, pulled off their caps and joined in with
cheers and yells, although they had not the faintest idea what they were
cheering and yelling for. Marcy smiled good-naturedly as he looked into
his cousin's face, but Rodney scowled as fiercely as ever. When anything
made him angry it took him a long time to get over it. He was almost
ready to boil over with rage when he caught his cousin in the act of
hoisting a brand new flag in place of the one that had been stolen, and
if his friends had only been prompt to hasten to his support, he would
have torn that flag into fragments in short order. But they had held
back and given Marcy's friends time to come to his assistance, and now
there was no hope of victory. This made him believe that the boys who
pretended to side with him were cowards, the last one of them.
"If I will give you the halliards, will you promise not to haul the
colors down?" asked Marcy, who had no heart for trouble of this sort.
"I'll promise nothing," answered Rodney, in savage tones. "You and your
gang have the advantage of me this time, but it will not be so when next
we meet. Mark that."
"Hear, hear!" cried some of the boys.
"You shut up!" shouted Rodney. "You fellows are mighty ready to talk,
but I would like to see you do something. As for you, Marcy, you are a
traitor to your State. Let go those halliards."
"I'll not do it. Your ancestors and mine have fought under this flag
ever since it has been a flag, and if I can help it, you shall not be
the first of our name to haul it down."
"But that flag does not belong up there any longer, and I say, and we
all say, that it shall not stay there. Here's our banner," exclaimed
Rodney, and as he spoke he drew the Stars and Bars from under his coat
and shook out its folds. "It's a much handsomer flag than yours, and if
there's a war coming, as some of you seem to think, it will lead us to
victory on every battle-field."
The sight of the Confederate emblem seemed to arouse a little martial
spirit among Rodney Gray's friends. They cheered it lustily, and Rodney
began to hope that they would make energetic and determined effort to
run it up; but they lacked the courage. The disgusted Rodney told them
in language more forcible than elegant that they were nothing but a lot
of wind-bags.
"Sentry, you were stationed here to protect that flag," said Marcy, as
he made the halliards fast to a cleat beside the door leading into the
belfry.
"Are you officer of the day?" demanded the guard. "Then you are taking a
good deal upon yourself when you presume to tell me what my duties are.
Go below, the last one of you, or I will call the corporal."
"That is what you would have done long ago if you had been a good
soldier, but I reckon he's coming without waiting to be called,"
observed Dixon, as an imperious knock, followed by the command to "open
up here, immediately," was heard at the trapdoor. "Now, Rodney, don't
let's have any more nonsense over the flag."
"I shall do as I please about that, and you can't help yourself,"
replied Rodney. "I'll settle the matter with you on the parade tonight,
if you feel in the humor. That flag shall not float over this school
with my consent."
"Then I am sorry to say that it will have to float without your consent.
It will be time enough to make war upon it when the North makes war on
us; and you will get plenty of that, I bet you. Now let's have a look at
our friend below, who seems to be in something of a hurry to come up,
and then we'll go down and attend to the business of the hour, which, I
believe, means breakfast."
So saying Dixon raised the trap-door, revealing the flushed and excited
faces of the commandant and officer of the day, who were most
respectfully saluted when they entered the belfry.