LESTER BRIGHAM’S STRATEGY.
“Now we shall see what we shall see,” whispered Enoch, as he and Jones
drew themselves into the smallest possible compass and waited, with
beating hearts, to see what was going to happen. He spoke calmly enough,
but the thought of what might be the result of his rash undertaking
caused him no little anxiety.
“I wish Lester Brigham had been down in Mississippi before he proposed
this thing to us, or else that he was here in my place,” whispered
Jones, in reply. “Let’s get out of here while we have the chance.”
It is possible that Enoch would have agreed to this proposal if a way of
retreat had been open to them; but before he could speak, the door
opened, and the first-class boys came pouring in. It was too late to
repent now.
It required all the fortitude Enoch possessed to carry him through the
hour that followed, but he had come there to listen, and he did not
forget to do it; while his timid companion, who was trembling in every
limb, did not understand half a dozen words that were uttered in his
hearing. Enoch was greatly amazed to learn that, if the idea of stealing
the dinner which the graduating class had prepared for themselves and
their friends was original with Lester Brigham, he was not the first
student to propose it. In the years gone by, some of the mischief-loving
fellows who then belonged to the academy had thought of the same thing,
and, moreover, they had worked to such good purpose that they had given
the first-class boys no end of trouble. This knowledge was so very
encouraging to Enoch that he almost forgot that he was frightened; and
when the meeting adjourned, and he and Jones stole out of the recitation
room and made their way toward their dormitories, he told himself that
if he were as smart as he thought he was, he could do more than make
trouble for the graduating class—he could make Lester’s scheme
successful.
“There’s one thing about it, fellows,” said Enoch, as he and Jones
stopped to exchange a few words with Charley Porter. “They are afraid of
our crowd, and have taken all sorts of precautions to guard against any
interference on our part. They couldn’t have paid us a bigger
compliment; could they, Jones?”
“N—no,” stammered the latter. “Oh, yes; it was a splendid compliment,”
he added, trying to arouse himself. The fact was, he did not know what
Enoch was talking about.
“I guess you didn’t hear much that was said while you were in the
recitation room,” said Charley, who did not fail to notice how very pale
Jones’s face was and how his hands trembled. “You look and act as if you
were scared half to death.”
“And so I was,” answered Jones, who knew that it would be of no use to
deny the charge. “It makes me shiver all over when I think what those
fellows would have done to us if they had caught us there. Fortunately
they were all gathered in the front of the room, and that was the way we
escaped discovery.”
“You know that much about it, don’t you?” said Enoch, with a laugh.
“Never mind; I was frightened myself, and when I went down stairs,
Charley told me that he wouldn’t act as a spy on Mack and the rest for a
million dollars. Charley is nobody’s coward, either.”
“I hope I am not,” said the guard, who was pleased with the compliment.
“And I am not foolhardy, either. I don’t call you two brave—I call you
reckless.”
“Perhaps we were,” said Enoch. “At any rate I wouldn’t do the same thing
again for a dozen dinners. Now we are ready to talk the matter up among
the fellows, and we will begin to-morrow.”
Just then the deep tones of the big bell in the cupola rang through the
building, and the spies, knowing that the officer of the guard would
soon make his rounds, burned toward their rooms; while Charley placed
his hands behind his back and began pacing up and down the hall.
“_That_ for you and your rules, Don Gordon,” thought Enoch, snapping his
fingers in the air and taking his seat at the study-table opposite his
room-mate—a good little boy, who would have been frightened at the bare
thought of deliberately violating any of the rules of school. Bert
Gordon had fondly hoped that by “chumming” Enoch on a studious,
well-behaved fellow, he could induce him to mend his ways and devote
himself to business, so that he could take a higher stand in the school;
for Enoch was bright, and could have earned a lieutenant’s
shoulder-straps very easily, if he had only applied himself. If Bert had
known what Enoch was thinking about now, he would have seen that his
plan was not likely to work.
That was a long night to Enoch, who rolled restlessly about on his bed
trying in vain to go to sleep. His mind was full of thoughts of the
dinner and of the stratagems of which he intended to make use in order
to secure possession of it (he knew that those he would take into his
confidence would expect him to manage the matter), and the worst of it
was, that he could not unburden himself to anybody before morning. When
at last he sank into an uneasy slumber, he dreamed about the fun in
prospect, and it was the first thing that came into his mind when the
booming of the morning gun called him up to begin the duties of the day.
It will be remembered that after breakfast the students were allowed an
hour in which to look over their lessons for the day, or to walk about
the grounds and watch guard-mount. It is hardly necessary to say that
Enoch didn’t do either. He devoted the time to making out a list of
those who he thought would be willing to assist him in his enterprise,
and Lester, Jones, and Charley Porter acted as his advisers. The two
last were quite willing to look upon Enoch as the leading spirit, but
Lester was not a little provoked at the matter-of-fact way in which the
management of affairs was taken out of his hands. He could not have
acted as leader himself, and he knew it; but he wanted the others to
show him a little respect. Instead of that, they did not notice him at
all; but at his request they added the name of Wallace Ross to those on
the list, because they knew that they would have occasion to use some of
the money with which Ross was so well supplied. After that each member
of this self-appointed committee took a copy of the list, and the
conspirators separated to “talk the matter up among the boys.” Those to
whom they spoke on the subject were, without exception, utterly
confounded by the magnitude of the enterprise, and loud in their praises
of the courage that Enoch and Jones had exhibited the night before. They
said so much about it that Lester became disgusted, and wished most
heartily that he had gone into the recitation room himself, instead of
allowing Jones to go.
“You seem to forget that I was one of those who saved the lives of the
crew of the Mystery,” observed Lester, who could not hear that the two
spies should receive all the credit. “Where would they have been if it
hadn’t been for me? There wasn’t a boy among you who had the pluck to
volunteer to go in the dory with Enoch.”
“What in the world has the wreck of the Mystery to do with stealing the
dinner of the graduating class?” demanded one of the dozen or more boys
to whom Lester talked in this way. “We know that you and Enoch showed
courage that day, and saved us all from being sent down. We are much
obliged to you, too, for proposing this thing, for we think we shall be
able to get some sport out of it; but Enoch is the fellow to manage it.
I, for one, have full confidence in him, but I won’t have anything to do
with it unless he is allowed to take command.”
This was what all the boys said, and it made Lester very angry. More
than once he told himself that the next time the crowd got hard up for
amusement they could go to somebody else to help them out, for he’d be
shot if he would do it. He even thought seriously of telling Colonel
Mack all about it; and there is every reason to believe he would have
done so, had it not been for the fact that he knew he would have to
appear as the principal witness when the court-martial came off. As it
was, he had to take his place in the ranks, so to speak, and look on and
listen while others planned the campaign and issued the necessary
orders.
We need not linger to unfold those plans or to repeat the orders,
because it would take up too much time; and, besides, everything will be
made clear as our story progresses. It will be enough to say that Enoch
proved himself to be a long-headed commander, and that when the time for
action arrived, everything moved off as smoothly as he could have
desired. There was not a single hitch anywhere—but he and his companions
didn’t eat the dinner.
We have said that class-day was always observed as a sort of holiday. By
that we mean that all the students in the first class were granted
leaves of absence for twenty-four hours, with permission to visit the
city; that those who lived in Hamilton were allowed to go home for the
same length of time; that the others who were worthy of them were
granted passes, good “between gun and gun”—that is, between sunrise and
sunset—and which permitted them to go as far as the village, and no
farther; and that the academy was “garrisoned” only by the guard, and by
those who, owing to some violation of the rules, had failed to obtain
liberty. Enoch’s crowd numbered nearly forty boys, and, for a wonder,
every one of them got a pass. The superintendent was surprised when he
came to examine the different reports that were handed in to him, for
some of this crowd were the laziest and most turbulent boys in the
school; but he complimented them on the marked improvement in their
conduct and standing, and said he hoped it would be lasting.
“What would the old fellow think if he knew as much as we do?” said
Enoch, to his friend Jones. “He won’t hold us in so high esteem by this
time to-morrow as he does now.”
“Perhaps there won’t be much of us left to esteem,” replied Jones,
dolefully. “We’re playing a desperate game, Enoch, and I wish Brigham
hadn’t thought of it.”
And Lester himself wished that Ross hadn’t thought of it. He had studied
and worked with the rest, hoping that before the time for action
arrived, something would happen to upset Enoch’s calculations; but every
one of his plans worked smoothly, Lester had his pass in his pocket, and
there was no backing out.
On the afternoon of the day immediately preceding the one that had been
set for the banquet, four boys who lived in Hamilton and who belonged to
the crowd, received permission to go home on a twenty-four hours’ visit.
Before they went they listened to some very explicit instructions from
Enoch and his lieutenants, who reminded them that they had a most
important part to perform, and that the success of the enterprise
depended solely upon their discretion. Things were all right so far,
Enoch said, and if they carried out their orders to the very letter, the
members of the crowd would eat that dinner in spite of all that could be
done to prevent it.
These emissaries, who departed on the one o’clock train, were
accompanied as far as the depot by another student, whose object in
loitering about on the platform for five long hours was not made
apparent, until the evening train from Hamilton thundered up to the
station; then he walked up to the baggage-car, and some one on the
inside handed him a letter addressed in a familiar hand to Enoch
Williams. It must have been just what the student was waiting for, for
as soon as he received it he jumped off the platform and set out
post-haste for the academy. Enoch and a few of his trusted followers
must have been expecting him, for they were the first boys he
encountered after he passed the sentry at the gate.
“It’s from Endicott,” exclaimed Enoch, glancing at the writing on the
envelope. “Fellows, this is what comes of having friends at court. If
Endicott’s father were not an officer of the road, the baggage-master
would not have troubled himself to bring this letter up to us. Now, let
us see what those fellows have been doing since they went down to
Hamilton. Some of you keep watch while I read.”
As the letter threw considerable light upon the plans of the
conspirators, and contained some things the reader ought to know in
order to fully comprehend what happened in the city the next day, we
transcribe it entire. It ran as follows:
“DEAR ENOCH:
“Everything is working as smoothly as we could wish. Mr. Colson was
very much surprised when I told him that we had decided to eat our
dinner in Bordentown, and consequently should not want the hall, and
so was Mr. Taylor, when we asked him if we could have the eatables
at the transfer-depot in time for the afternoon train. But he didn’t
hesitate to promise that everything should be there, and neither did
he ask any disagreeable questions. We have seen the leader of the
band, and told him that we want him to be at the depot to meet the
lightning express instead of the regular mail, and he has promised
to be on hand and to go to Bordentown with us. My father has placed
his carriage at my disposal for to-morrow afternoon, and I have
arranged with Sam (that’s the coachman’s name) to meet Blake and his
committee at the depot, and to take them as far out into the country
as he can before he lets them out. The horses are very fast, and if
Sam puts them to their speed, he ought to be able to take them as
far as Grove farm. If he does, it will take them forever to find
their way back to town, for the roads twist and turn about so
bewilderingly that even those who are well acquainted with the woods
sometimes get lost there. By the time they get back we shall be on
our way to Bordentown, and they will have no means of following us,
for we shall take the last train. The best joke of the whole was,
that nobody suspected us. We didn’t say that we were first-class
boys—they took that for granted. We simply said that we were the
committee that had been instructed to make new arrangements
regarding the banquet. All the other things you spoke to me about
have been attended to, and if you do your part as well as I have
done mine, the dinner is ours as sure as you are a foot high. I send
this by the baggage-master, as I promised.
“In great haste, yours,
“ENDICOTT.”
“He’s a brick!” exclaimed Enoch, as he folded the letter and returned it
to the envelope. “And, Brigham, you are another. No one but you would
ever have thought of such a thing as this, and if I have any influence
with the fellows, the toast of the evening shall be: ‘Lester Brigham—the
student to whose fertile brain we are indebted for this evening’s
enjoyment.’ Endicott shall give it, if no one objects. He’s the best
speaker among us, and he will do it up brown.”
From this time forward the conspirators lived in a fever of excitement.
There was but one thing to be feared now, and that was that Mr. Taylor
or Mr. Colson might telegraph to the president of the first class,
asking if the “committee” who had called that day had authority to make
so radical a change in the programme; but they need not have troubled
themselves about that. The gentlemen referred to had been informed by
the secretary that if the class thought best to make any changes, they
would be duly notified of the fact by a committee and not by letter, and
so they supposed that everything was just as it should be.
The morning of the eventful day came at last, and shortly after
breakfast the boys exchanged their fatigue suits for their dress
uniforms, and began to leave the grounds—all except the members of the
first class, who, as we have recorded, marched out in a body in the
afternoon, in time to take the five o’clock train. Now more strategy on
the part of the conspirators became necessary in order to rid themselves
of the presence of those who were not in the secret. There were tickets
to be purchased—Ross’s pocket-book came handy now—and then they were to
hold themselves in readiness to board the one o’clock train; and, more
than that, both of these maneuvers were to be accomplished secretly, or
else, to quote from Jones, the fat would all be in the fire.
Among those who had come out with them, and who persisted in keeping
them company in spite of all their efforts to shake them off, were
several good little boys of the Bert Gordon stamp; and these must be
kept in profound ignorance of the contemplated movement. If they should
happen to see any of Enoch’s party at the window of the ticket office,
or should chance to be on the platform when they boarded the cars, some
tale-bearer among them would be sure to hasten to the academy with the
information, which might open the eyes of the first-class boys and lead
to an investigation by telegraph. Enoch knew that the majority of these
good little boys could be trusted—that even if they should accidentally
learn the details of all his plans they would not say a word to the
teachers about it, unless they were questioned; but there were two among
them who could not hold their tongues, and who must be got out of the
way at all hazards.
“But how shall it be done? that’s the question,” said Enoch, who was at
his wit’s end now. He and Jones had been talking about it all the
morning, and just as he asked the question Lester Brigham came up and
joined in the conversation. For a wonder the latter hit upon an idea at
once. He, too, had been revolving a knotty problem in his mind, and that
was, how to get rid of Wallace Ross. He (Lester) was to be toasted as
the originator of the grandest scheme for amusement that had ever been
thought of by school-boys, and he was afraid that when his name was
proposed, Ross would become indignant and tell the truth about the
matter. That would be very mortifying indeed, and Lester had decided
that the only way to prevent it was to keep Ross away from Bordentown.
He had just thought of something.
“Leave them to me, fellows,” said he. “I’ll see that they are not around
when we get on the cars.”
“If you will,” exclaimed Enoch, seizing Lester’s hand and giving it a
hearty shake, “you will add another to the long list of favors for which
we are indebted to you. I wish I could think up things as readily as you
can, but my wit is slow. How are you going to do it?”
“I haven’t yet fully decided,” was Lester’s reply. “But I will tell you
how you can help me: I want you to spread it around where these two
fellows can hear it, that the train we intend to take is an hour late;
but——”
“Oh, that wouldn’t do at all,” said Enoch, hastily. “They’d get
scattered all over town, and half of them——”
“But,” repeated Lester, paying no attention to the interruption, “have
it distinctly understood among our own boys that it is on time. Then
come down to the livery stable at twelve o’clock, sharp, and, no matter
what I am doing, tell me that the superintendent wants to see me at
once. Understand?”
“I understand what you say,” replied Enoch, “but I don’t understand the
plot.”
“No matter; I understand it, and you will see how nicely it will work.
Will you do as I say?”
Enoch replied that they would, and Lester hastened away to hunt up
Wallace Ross before any of the crowd had time to post him in regard to
the trick that was to be played upon Smith and Wheeler, the two good
little boys whom Enoch was afraid to trust. He found him after awhile,
and lost not a moment in putting his hastily-formed plans into
execution.
“I say, Ross,” he exclaimed, with a great show of annoyance, “I have
been looking all over for you. Our train is an hour behind time, and——”
“How do you know?” demanded Ross.
“Telegraph,” answered Lester.
“Now that’s very provoking,” said Ross, who believed every word of it.
“I wish we were in the city now, for I shall not draw an easy breath as
long as we stay here. A word from the operator in Hamilton would make
dough of our cake in a little less than no time.”
“That’s so,” assented Lester. “I feel as uneasy as you do—more so, in
fact, because—er——”
“Because what?” said Ross.
“No matter,” replied Lester, with an air which said that he could tell
something surprising if he wanted to. “But if the superintendent should
send an orderly after me with instructions to report at the academy
without a moment’s delay, it would not astonish me in the least. But if
he does, I don’t mean that the orderly shall find me. Let’s go out to
the Big Tree, get a good country dinner, and inquire about the
trout-fishing.”
The Big Tree was the name of a little tavern that was located in the
country, about five miles beyond the village limits. It was a favorite
place of resort for the students who were fond of angling, and a visit
to the ponds and streams in its immediate vicinity was sure to result in
a full creel. The landlord was famous for his pies, but when it came to
pancakes, the boys all agreed that he could not begin to compete with
Cony Ryan. The Big Tree was so far away that it was some trouble to
reach it, and so the students were accustomed to go in parties large
enough to fill a two-horse carriage, which they paid for by “pooling”
their small supply of pocket-money.
“I am in favor of that,” said Ross, readily. “The boys drew on me pretty
heavily this morning, but I think I have enough left to pay my share
toward a livery rig.”
“I haven’t,” said Lester; “that is if you and I go alone. Let’s get two
more good fellows to go with us. It will make the expense lighter. Here
come Smith and Wheeler. They’ve got some collaterals; let’s ask them.”
“What, those spooneys!” exclaimed Ross, who was very much surprised. “I
believe I would rather stay here than go with them. I thought you didn’t
like them.”
“Neither do I; but our fellows are pretty well strapped, and, as I said,
Smith and Wheeler have money. We shall be in their company only about an
hour and a half, and you surely can stand it for that length of time.”
“We won’t run any risk of missing the train, will we?”
“Oh, no. I have a watch.”
Smith and Wheeler came up at this moment, and when Lester proposed that
they four should club together and hire a team to take them out to the
Big Tree, they consented at once. The four boys then strolled slowly
toward the livery stable, which they reached shortly before noon. When
Lester told the proprietor that he and his companions wanted a double
team for an hour and a half, the man did not seem to be in any hurry to
order it out.
“Have you got the money to pay for it?” he demanded.
“Of course we have,” answered Lester, indignantly. “Did I ever order a
team of you without paying for it?”
“No, you never did; but last week some of your boys ordered a rig for
Saturday afternoon, and told me to be sure and keep it for them, and
they would take it, rain or shine. I could have let that team a dozen
times. When Saturday came it rained, and the boys didn’t show up;
consequently I lost my money.”
“We are perfectly willing to pay you in advance,” said Ross.
“More than that,” continued the livery stable man, “I’ve had students
come here, order a rig out of pure meanness, and slip out while I was
hitching up; and I _have_ said that no academy boy should ever draw a
rein over one of my horses again. Will you take the team if I bring it
out?”
“Of course we will,” said Wheeler, who, being perfectly honest and
upright in all his dealings, felt rather nettled by the livery-man’s
suspicions. “You must think we have little to do to come here and call
for a thing we don’t want.”
The livery-man laughed and turned away, and presently one of his hands
backed a neat wagon with a canopy top into the middle of the floor, and
another appeared leading the two horses that were to draw it. Then
Lester knew that if Enoch and Jones did their part, the three
objectionable boys were effectually disposed of. Enoch had not yet made
his appearance, but Lester had so much confidence in him that his
absence did not trouble him in the least. He climbed into the wagon and
sat there while the horses were being hitched to it; then the others got
in, and Wheeler, who handled the reins, was about to drive out of the
barn, when the chief conspirator and his lieutenant suddenly appeared at
the door.