BUD'S MESSENGER IN TROUBLE.
Although the hours from four until six in the afternoon were devoted to
recreation, it was expected that those of the students who wished to
visit friends in town would ask for a pass before attempting to leave
the grounds; but we have seen that they didn't. There were some
professional guard-runners among them, and on this particular afternoon
they appeared in full force.
"Come on, old fellow," Billings shouted to Marcy Gray, who was carrying
a camp-chair toward a spreading maple that stood near the guard tent.
"No; I think I will stay here and try to read," replied Marcy. "I know
this book will not quarrel with me, but some of the Barrington people
might. There must be a good deal of excitement down there, and I
shouldn't think you would care to go."
"It's the very reason we do care to go," replied Rodney, who, with Dick
Graham at his side, was taking long steps toward the fence that
separated the academy grounds from the woods. "We want to see what the
folks think of last night's work. They'll not say a word to Dick and me,
for we were not there."
"You'll find that that will not make any difference," said Marcy. "They
are down on the school, and you two will have to stand snubbing with the
rest."
Dick laughed and said he did not believe it, and he and his companion
kept on to the fence, which they climbed without a word of remonstrance
from the sentry, who was obliging enough to turn his back when he saw
them coming. Marcy watched them until they disappeared in the bushes,
and then fastened his eyes on his book; but he could not read. The air
was too full of excitement for that, and he could do nothing but think.
How he passed the time until the guard-runners and those who had
received passes began to return from town, he could not have told. There
was a good deal of feeling among the best of the Barrington people, they
said, but the members of the committee did not blame the academy boys
for marching into town. On the contrary, they were rather gratified at
the promptness with which they "showed up"; for it was an indication
that they would not be found wanting when the critical time came; but
they did not like the way the commandant had of meddling with their
municipal affairs, and had sent Mr. Riley and some others to extort from
him a promise that he would never be guilty of it again.
"So that report was true," said Dixon, who brought this news to Marcy
Gray, "and that was the lesson the colonel has been pouting over all
day. He gave Mr. Riley the assurance that no matter what happened in
Barrington, not a single boy of us should be allowed outside the grounds
with a musket in his hand."
"Rodney didn't come home with you, did he?" said Marcy. "I wish he would
make haste, for I should like to get my mail. Do you know where he is?"
"That reminds me of something I made up my mind to ask you the minute I
got here," answered Dixon; and Marcy judged, by the furtive manner in
which he looked around to make sure there was no one within earshot,
that he did not want anybody else to know what he had to say. "Has
Rodney anything in common with that villain, Bud Goble?"
"Not by a long shot," exclaimed Marcy indignantly. "Why do you ask?
Don't you know him any better than that?"
"I thought I did; but the last time I saw him and Dick Graham, they were
searching everywhere for Bud. Graham is, or _was_, all right; there's no
discount on him, but--"
"But what?" demanded Marcy, when Dixon paused. "Don't say a word behind
Rodney's back that you would not say to his face."
"I won't," replied Dixon, who was neither angry nor frightened. "I hope
you have been acquainted with me long enough to know that I am not that
sort of fellow. I say Dick is all right, because he will not make a move
either way until his State moves; and in the mean time, he will not want
to do harm to those whose opinions differ from his own. But, Marcy Gray,
that cousin of yours is about half crazy."
"That's a fact," said Marcy, after thinking a moment.
"Consequently Rodney is _not_ all right, and there's a heavy discount on
him," continued Dixon. "He is down on everybody who does not think as he
does, and I am afraid--Look here: Why is Rodney so anxious to see Bud
Goble if it isn't to put him up to some mischief?"
"That's so," replied Marcy thoughtfully. "Why is he?"
"There was a time when Rodney's blood would have boiled at the idea of
standing by and seeing helpless people served as those two Union men
were served by the members of Mr. Riley's committee last night, but it
isn't so now," continued Dixon. "He believes that Northern sympathizers
ought to be punished, and he don't care how it is done or who does it!"
"But Dick Graham is with Rodney, and you think Dick is all right," Marcy
reminded him. "Dick wouldn't be likely to stay with him if he thought
Rodney was going to put any more mischief into Bud Goble's head."
"Dick was all right the last time I talked with him, but how do I know
but that Rodney has succeeded in bringing him over to his side."
"Oh, I hope not," said Marcy earnestly. "I'll speak to Rodney when he
comes, and tell him to let all such fellows as Goble alone. Don't repeat
what you have said to me, will you?"
"Of course not. I think too much of Rodney for that, and if he gets
himself into trouble through his foolishness, I'll be one of the first
to jump in and help him out."
Marcy was on nettles after Dixon went away, and it is a question whether
he would have felt much easier in his mind if he had known why it was
that his cousin was so anxious to find Bud Goble. Rodney did not want to
put any more mischief into the man's head; he wanted to take out some he
had put there two days before. He did not feel as bitter toward Marcy
and Dick Graham as he did when he slipped away from his friends on the
evening that Confederate flag came to him through the post-office, and
wrote that letter calling Bud's attention to the fact that there were
some Union boys in the academy who ought to be told that their room was
better than their company. The threats that Bud had made against Marcy,
and the destruction of the property of those two Union men, frightened
Rodney, who would have given up all his worldly prospects to know just
how much his letter to the paid spy had to do with bringing about the
present state of affairs. His desire now was to stop Bud before he could
go any further.
Marcy, depressed in spirits and fearing, he knew not what, waited and
watched in vain. Dress parade was over, supper had been eaten, and the
gate closed for the night, and still Rodney and Dick had failed to
report.
"I feel a little worried myself," said Dixon, to whom Marcy went for
sympathy and comfort. "And I don't believe Captain Wilson is altogether
right in his mind, for I have heard him making inquiries among the boys.
In fact he has been to me to find out where I last saw the missing
chaps, and what they were doing. But don't be uneasy. I didn't tell him
that they were looking for Bud Goble. I almost wish I had," he added, to
himself. "I may have to do it yet if they don't turn up all right."
"Captain Wilson doesn't think they could have got into any trouble, does
he?" said Marcy anxiously.
"He didn't say a word on that score."
"But it looks as though he was afraid of it," replied Marcy. "If he
wasn't afraid something had happened to them he would not ask about
them."
This interview with Dixon would have added to Marcy's fears, even if he
had not learned, as he did a few minutes later, that all the boys in the
hall were talking about it, and wondering what had become of Rodney and
Dick. Like many others these two had openly defied all the rules for
weeks past, but they had never before stayed out after dark, and some of
the students declared that they wouldn't do it now if they were not
prevented from coming back to the academy. When Marcy heard this, he
decided that something ought to be done. He went upstairs and told the
orderly to ask if he might speak to the colonel.
"I think I know what you want," whispered the orderly, "and I tell you
plainly that he won't let you do it. But I'll go in with your message."
There were others among the students who thought they knew what Marcy
wanted, and who followed him to the head of the stairs to "see how he
would come out with the old man." The orderly disappeared through the
colonel's door, but came out a few minutes afterward to report--
"What did I tell you?"
"What did he say?" inquired Marcy.
"He says he doesn't want to be bothered. I put in a good word for you,
suggesting that perhaps you wanted permission to go to Barrington and
see what has become of Rodney, and he said in reply that you need not
trouble yourself. You could not go. He will not allow a boy outside the
gate after dark, no matter what his business is, and he'll chuck Rodney
and Dick into the guard-house the minute they return, and keep them
there."
For the first time since he had been a student at that school Marcy Gray
felt rebellious. He stood high in his class, was always on hand when
duty called him, never ran the guard, hadn't asked for a pass for more
than a week, and for the colonel to send him off in this way, without
even listening to the request he had to make, was rather more than Marcy
could stand.
"I was going to ask him to let me go to town and see if I could learn
what has become of Rodney and Dick," said he to the boys who were
waiting for him at the top of the stairs. "But he sent word by the
orderly that he wouldn't see me. I'm going to Barrington all the same."
"Do you want company?" asked Dixon.
"I should like to have three or four good fellows," replied Marcy, "but
mind you, I shall not ask anybody to go with me. I am bound to get into
trouble."
"Well, you can't find any better guard-house companion than I am,"
answered Dixon.
"I'm another good fellow for that cheerful hole," observed Billings. "I
ought to be, for I've been there often enough."
Bob Cole said he was a third candidate for a court-martial, announced
his determination to go if Billings went, whether Marcy said so or not,
and the latter decided that three boys were as many as he cared to bring
into trouble on account of their friendship for him and the missing
students.
"Now, fellows," whispered Dixon to the other boys who were gathered
about. "You stay in the hall, and if anybody asks you where we have
gone, you can tell him you don't know. Be quiet now, all of us, and
don't act or look as though there was anything in the wind."
This was easier said than done, for now that these four students had
decided to run counter to the colonel's express orders, and find out
what had become of Rodney Gray and his companion, they were impatient to
be off. But three of their number managed to leave the hall without
attracting very much attention, and halted in the shade of the trees to
wait for Dixon, who, being an experienced guard-runner, had loitered
behind to ascertain who were on posts three and four, between which they
would have to pass in order to reach the fence.
"They're solid boys," said he, when he joined Marcy and the rest under
the trees. "If we can get close enough to give them a hint of what we
want to do before they challenge us, they'll let us through. After we
get a little farther along, perhaps it would be best for me to go on
ahead."
Of course the suggestion was adopted, for among all the boys in school
there was not one who knew how to manage affairs of this sort better
than Dixon. He succeeded in getting within sight of one of the sentries
without being stopped, made him understand, in some mysterious way, that
secrecy was not only desirable but necessary, and in a few minutes
whistled for his companions. Such a proceeding as this would not have
been successful, nor would it have been attempted, at any other time in
the history of the academy.
"I've been thinking about those two boys ever since I came on post,"
said the sentry, in a low tone. "And I am glad you have made up your
minds to go in search of them, in spite of the colonel. Crawl over
whenever you get ready, but I mustn't see you do it."
The sentry faced about, and the four guard-runners placed their hands
upon the fence and were about to "crawl over," when their movements were
arrested by a sound coming from the thicket close in front of them.
Remembering how old Uncle Toby had approached Marcy Gray's post, they
stopped and listened.
"St--St--!" was the sound they heard, and something told them that the
person who made it desired to communicate with them secretly.
"Who is it?" whispered Dixon.
"It's me," answered a voice.
"Who's me? If you are a friend come out and show yourself. If you are an
enemy, get away from there or we will be down on you like a
shower-bath."
"It's me; Caleb Judson. Don't you know me?"
"Whew!" whistled Dixon softly, while the rest of the boys nodded and
winked at one another. "It's one of Bud Goble's friends. Are we not in
luck? I know of you," he said aloud. "But what are you doing there in
the bushes? Come close to the fence and tell us what you want. Be quiet,
for there are guards on both sides, and we mustn't let them hear us."
Thus encouraged, Caleb Judson arose from his hiding-place and came
forward; but, as if he were afraid of treachery, he halted just out of
reach of the fence.
"That won't do," said Dixon. "Come up close so that we can talk between
the pickets. It's too late for you to run now, even if you wanted to.
You see this fellow?" he added, calling Caleb's attention to the sentry,
who came up holding his musket at "arms port." "That gun of his has got
a bullet in it, and his orders are--"
"Don't shoot," said Caleb; and in his excitement and alarm he spoke so
loud that the boys trembled.
"Don't you know enough to keep still?" exclaimed Marcy angrily. "No one
is going to hurt you. Come up to the fence. Now, what brought you here?
Talk fast."
"Well," said Caleb, speaking slowly, as if he did not know how to
explain his errand; "you mind them Gray an' Graham boys, don't ye?"
"We have a slight acquaintance with them," answered Dixon. "What about
them? Do you want to see them?"
"See 'em?" repeated Caleb. "I jest did see 'em, not more'n an hour
ago."
"Um," said Dixon. "Where did you leave them?"
"Down in the woods on Riley's place, a little piece back of nigger
Toby's cabin. Bud Goble's got 'em."
"Hold on, or you will spoil everything," whispered Dixon, looking over
his shoulder at Marcy Gray, who began breathing very hard and trying to
work his way closer to the fence. "What does Bud intend to do with
them?"
"Well, it's jest this a-way," replied Caleb. "A day or two ago Bud got a
letter from somebody tellin' him that them two boys oughter be drove
outen the kentry, kase they was Union all over an' preachin' up their
docterings as often as they got a chance. Bud, he thought so too, an'
this afternoon he grabbed 'em."
"Who wrote that letter?" inquired Dixon.
"There don't none of us know; Bud himself don't know, kase there wasn't
no name to it."
"It was written by some coward who was afraid to let himself be known,
was it? And Bud acted upon the advice that letter contained and grabbed
the boys, did he? How did he go about it?" inquired Dixon; and his three
companions, who knew how quick he was to get angry, wondered that he
could speak so quietly and without the slightest show of excitement.
"When they was in town to-day Bud sont 'em word that there was a sick
man up the road a piece, an' asked them would they get some quinine an'
take it to him," replied Caleb.
"And of course they went," said Dixon, through his clenched teeth. "Bud
worked upon their feelings and caught them as easy as falling off a log.
When they got to that cabin there wasn't any sick man there, but a party
of ruffians who jumped on Rodney and Dick and made prisoners of them,"
added Dixon, who was so impatient that he could not wait for Caleb to
tell the story. "Was that the way of it?"
"It were; but you see he got the wrong one. Both of 'em are the wrong
ones."
"How so?"
"Well, you see they're the wrong ones; not the ones he thought he was
goin' to get. Rodney is secession the very wust kind."
"Of course he is; and Graham is State rights, which is the next thing to
a rebel. Well, what of it?"
"Rodney is the wrong one, I tell ye. We-uns wanted the other Gray
boy--the Union feller."
"What would you have done to him if you had got hold of him?"
"We-uns kalkerlated to lick him good an' send him outen the kentry with
a striped jacket."
Caleb did not hesitate to acknowledge this. He had heard it said that
there were some wild secessionists in the school, and taking his cue
from the Barrington people, who thought it right to destroy the property
of Union men, he believed that the students who were in favor of the
Confederacy would be willing to take summary vengeance upon those of
their number who were foolish enough to stand up for the old flag. But
he thought it would be wise to make sure of that point before he went
any further.
"You're Jeff Davis men, I reckon, aint ye?" said he "We are for the
South every day in the week," replied Dixon. "When the Stars and Stripes
are pulled down and the Stars and Bars run up in their place, I'll
holler as loud as the next fellow. You may speak freely."
Caleb might have had some doubts on that point if he could have seen the
flashing eyes and clenched fists there were on the other side of the
fence. But Dixon spoke so calmly, in spite of the towering rage he was
in, that the man's suspicions were not aroused.
"You calculated to whip Rodney and drive him out of the country; but
when you learned that he was a good rebel, you thought you wouldn't do
it," said Dixon. "Is that the way of it? Then what are you holding him
for? Why don't you let him come home?"
"All the company was in for lettin' both of 'em go, 'ceptin' Bud. He
wouldn't hear to it."
"What sort of a company have you?"
"One we-uns got up yesterday and last night while them houses was
burnin'. Minute men, you know, who are ready to grab their guns an'
fight in a minute. Bud wanted to capting the company, but we-uns put in
another feller, an' mebbe that makes him madder t'wards the boys than he
would be if he was capting."
"Very likely; and it is a good idea to pound them for it. What was the
reason he wouldn't listen when you proposed to let Rodney go?"
"Kase Rodney an' that Graham boy was the fellers that offered to give
him a hunderd dollars if he would show them where that underground
railroad was that used to tote the niggers off to Canady," replied
Caleb. "Bud says they needn't think they're ever goin' to come back to
the 'cademy less'n he gets them hunderd dollars. He looked for the
railroad in good faith, an' allows that he'd oughter be paid for his
time an' trouble."
"And this is the way he takes to get his pay, is it? Well, he must have
it, and if I have any influence with the boys he will get more than he
asks for. But why did you come here to tell us this?"
"Kase Bud sont me up here to get the money."
"You know right where he is, I suppose?"
"I do, for a fac'."
"Are there many men with him?"
"Nobody but jest Silas Walker. The rest of the company wouldn't have
nothing to do with it, an' so they went home."
"And you expect us to send the money back by you, do you? How much of it
will you get?"
"Not a dog-gone cent. I don't want none of it. I come kase I want to see
them two boys let go. Hold on, there. What you doin'?" exclaimed Caleb,
when he felt himself suddenly seized by the elbow and his whole arm
pulled through the fence. "Turn me loose."
"Take hold of the other arm, Billings," said Dixon quietly. "Now, old
man, keep perfectly still and do just as you are told, and no harm shall
come to you. You are friendly to Rodney and Dick, and that makes us
friendly toward you. Come over the fence. Up you go."
"What for?"
"We want you to tell the officer of the guard, and perhaps the colonel,
just what you have told us, word for word."
"By gracious, boys, you're going to get me into a pretty mess," said the
sentry nervously. "You can't get him over without alarming the whole
school, and how shall I explain matters to the corporal? He's a chap who
will not stand any nonsense. Come over that fence," he added, an idea
striking him; and as he spoke he drew up his loaded musket and pointed
it at Caleb's head. "Quick and still, or I'll cut loose."
The sight of the black muzzle that looked him squarely in the eye was
too much for Caleb's nerves. Beseeching the sentry, in whining tones, to
turn that weapon t'other way, he shinned up the pickets, Dixon and
Billings shifting their hold from his arms to his legs and feet as he
ascended, and in two minutes more he stood within the academy grounds.