SOMETHING MORE ABOUT THE BEECH HILL REBELLION.
After dinner the students resumed their study of the plans for the
boat-house and wharf. Some of them went over to the grove in the
afternoon, but nothing more was seen of the Topovers that day. The lake
was too rough to admit of the Chesterfields bringing them over in their
barges. Probably the young gentlemen of the Collegiate Institute got
enough of them before night.
The next morning the lake was smooth, and the two barges brought the
marauders to the head of Porter's Bay. Some of the Beech Hill students
were in the grove at the time, for it was a quiet place to work on the
plans. Bolly Millweed spent the whole day there, seated on the shore
where he could see the whole water front of the opposite side of the
lake.
The other students were not deeply absorbed in their study of
architecture, and they observed with interest the landing of the
Topovers. The Chesterfields appeared to be on excellent terms with their
allies, and quite a conference took place between them on the shore.
Doubtless the Beech Hill students were the subjects of the conversation,
for the Topovers frequently pointed in the direction of the estate, and
seemed to be explaining the nature of the locality to their patrons.
Mad Twinker and Jeff Monroe walked up the hill to the centre of the
grove, where they could see Beech Hill Lake and the school buildings.
But the visitors soon returned to the other side of the lake, and the
Topovers went to their homes. Most of the latter had been truants from
school, and very likely many of them were punished for their misconduct
either by their parents or their teachers.
Of course a great deal was said by the students at liberty about the
rebels; but those who wore the uniform were emphatic in their
condemnation of those who refused to put it on. The rebels were still
required to stay in their rooms, and their meals were sent in to them.
Each of them had been fitted by the tailor, and had taken his uniform to
his own apartment.
The principal had sent word to them that, when they desired to return
to their duties, all they had to do was to put on the uniform and take
their places with their schoolmates. Although they were forbidden to
communicate with one another or with the other members of the school, it
is probable that each one knew what the others were doing.
The rebellion had not worked as they intended and expected. Lew Shoreham
had been appointed the orator of the malcontents, and the battle was to
be fought out with words in the schoolroom. This was not the principal's
way of dealing with such cases. He gave the "jingo" element no chance at
all.
On one of the first days of the school he detected a couple of students
in the act of engaging in a fight. Investigation showed that there was
no grievance between the parties, and the battle was to see which was
"the best man." He locked them both up in the machine shop, and gave
them two hours to ascertain which was the best man. With no one to
witness the encounter they did not care to fight, and came out good
friends.
The rebels could not help feeling that their enterprise had already
"come to grief." Lew Shoreham's argument had been prepared, but it was
unspoken, and was likely to remain so while its author pined in the
solitude of his chamber. The malcontents could not confer together, for
Bates would not allow any two of them to meet in the halls. Bart
Cornwall tried to talk with Lick Milton in the next room, but the
remorseless jailer threatened to put him in the black hole if he said
another word; and he did not.
Each rebel, therefore, was compelled to think and act for himself. He
could not lean on his leader or his companions. Life Windham was one of
the most restless under his confinement. He liked to know what was going
on, and he found himself shut out from the world and all that was in it.
The principal had begun his announcement of the prizes for the best
plans when the conspiracy broke out. Life concluded that he must have
deferred the business till the rebellion was disposed of, and he
wondered what he had said to the rest of the students about the refusal
to wear the uniform.
Life fretted and worried over his situation until after dinner of the
second day. Then he went over the whole subject of the uniform in his
own mind. He thought he was abused and persecuted, but he could stand it
no longer. Impulsively he put on the uniform which hung at the head of
his bed. It was a good fit and he thought he looked well in it. He tried
on the cap with the monogram in front. It was neat and plain, and the
only objection he had to it was that it was part of the uniform.
He was so anxious to learn what was going on at the school, and what the
principal had said about the rebels when they left, that he went out
into the hall. Bates was on his feet the instant the door was opened.
The old man smiled when he saw that Windham wore the uniform, and as the
ex-rebel passed him, he saluted him as politely as though he had never
been his prisoner.
The dormitory was located near the rocks, at a little distance from the
lake, which could not be seen from its windows. Life Windham knew
nothing at all about the stealing of the boats by the Topovers, and the
lively scenes on the lake in the forenoon. It was after one o'clock, and
the students ought to be in the shops. He went there, but they were
deserted.
Life concluded that the principal had given the rest of the students a
vacation as a reward of merit for not joining the rebellion. He walked
to the lake. Seated in one of the four-oar boats, busily engaged in
drawing on a large sheet of brown paper, he found Dory. As
stroke-oarsman the ex-rebel sat next to the coxswain in the Winooski,
and he was more intimate with him than with any other student. When Dory
saw him getting into the boat, he rolled up his drawings, and put a
rubber band around them.
"Hallo, Dory!" said Life, as he walked aft in the boat.
"Glad to see you, Life," replied the coxswain. "You look well in the new
uniform."
"I couldn't stay in my room any longer, but I have not changed my
opinion in regard to making us wear a uniform," added Life, who could
not even now back wholly down. "But what are you doing? Why are the
fellows not in the shops?"
"One question at a time. I am trying to make a plan for a boat-house.
The principal gave the students three days to get up their plans, and
they are to be handed in day after to-morrow morning."
"Did the principal offer the prizes?" asked Life, astonished that it had
been done in the absence of the rebels.
"Of course he did; he had opened the subject before you left the
schoolroom."
"But I thought he would put it off after one third of the whole school
had left."
"He don't do things in that way," added Dory.
"But what are the conditions? Perhaps I am not too late, for I had some
ideas about a plan."
"We are not allowed to speak to anyone about the plans," answered Dory.
"Every fellow is put on his honor to say nothing to anyone about them."
"Then the eight fellows that object to being dressed like monkeys are to
be shut out from the competition!" exclaimed Life indignantly. "That is
about as unfair as anything can be."
"You had the same chance that the rest of us had, and you chose to stay
in your room rather than hear the terms on which the prizes were to be
given."
"We were standing up for a principle."
"Whew!" whistled Dory laughing. "The principle that you won't wear the
colors of the Beech Hill Industrial School."
"The principle that we won't be punished for the sins of others,"
retorted Life smartly.
"You are wrong on the fact, as I have shown you before."
"It's no use to argue the point with you: if the principal had only
been fair enough to hear what Lew Shoreham had to say, we should have
been fully justified."
"He never argues the point with those who refuse to obey."
"No matter. Have you heard anything more from the Chesterfields?"
"We had a smart brush with them this forenoon," answered the coxswain;
and he proceeded to tell the whole story of the encounter with the
Topovers and their allies.
Life Windham listened with breathless interest. It was the liveliest
affair of the whole season, and he had been shut up in his room. He was
vexed and indignant that he had not been permitted to take a hand in the
stirring enterprise. When he had finished the narrative Dory wanted to
work on his plan, and Life left him. He found all the other students at
liberty were engaged in the same way.
Life had to spend the afternoon by himself. Late in the day he saw Bob
Swanton come out of the dormitory with the uniform on. He was just
beginning to ask himself if he had not been a traitor to the "cause,"
and to the rebels engaged in it. He was glad to see one of them. Life
was pleased to have a companion, and they talked over the situation.
"Not the least notice seems to have been taken of us," said Swanton.
"Not the slightest," added Life. "Why, the principal did not even say a
single word about us after we left the schoolroom, and has not mentioned
us in any way."
"He is the oddest principal I ever heard of. I suppose he will let the
fellows stay in their rooms all winter," continued Bob Swanton, who had
pluck enough to fight, but not enough to be ignored.
"I have come to the conclusion that Lew Shoreham ought to have made his
argument when the order to put on the uniform was given," said Life,
rather sheepishly; "for the principal was certainly ready to hear all
the fellows had to say at that time. Lew didn't say a word about
punishing us for the sins of others then."
"I asked him why he did not, and he said he had not thought of it at
that time."
But the supper-bell ended the discussion, and the two ex-rebels went to
the house with the other students. Captain Gildrock saw them, but he
made no remark of any kind about their return to duty, or the fact that
they wore the uniform. The rest of the students seemed to be glad to see
them, but they would not allude to the rebellion.
The next morning. Harry Franklin and Phil Gawner appeared in uniform;
and at night only Lew Shoreham remained a prisoner. The next morning the
plans for the prizes were to be handed in, and when the school had
assembled, quite a number of the students had rolls of drawings in their
hands; but many of them had nothing to show for their three days' study
of architecture and engineering.
At the appointed hour the principal came in and took his place on the
platform. A moment later Lew Shoreham entered in full uniform, with the
cap in his hand.
"May I be permitted to make an explanation?" said the last of the
rebels, rising in his seat.
"In my private office at the close of the school," replied Captain
Gildrock.
That was not what the chief rebel wanted.