Then the boys saw the sailors draw something forward near the taffrail.
"What are they going to do, Mr. Kramer?" asked Joe.
"Fire us a line."
There was a little delay, then a puff of smoke, and a line fell across
the island. There was a great rush and scramble for it, and some of the
boys in their eagerness fell over each other, doing more harm than good;
but the line was secured, and pulled in with a will. At the end of this
line was fastened a rope, and this, in turn, brought a double cable.
"A long pull, and a strong pull, and a pull all together!" said the
light-keeper.
There were hands enough to pull, but after all it was hard work; and
there was a cheer when they got hold of the double cable and ran with it
to an old oak stump.
The light-keeper sent John for some heavy spikes, which he drove into
the stump, in a circle above the cable, to prevent its slipping up when
it began to move.
"Pull tight now!" shouted Kramer.
The boys could see the rope tighten.
"What are they doing now, Mr. Bernard?" asked Dave.
"That's what I should like to know," said Joe. "They are coming ashore,
I think."
"Coming ashore! What! on that rope?"
"Astride of it, or hanging on by their hands? That's what I'd like to
know!" and there was great confusion among the boys, all talking at
once.
"Boys, keep quiet!" said Mr. Bernard. "The captain is calling."
"All ready there?"
"Ay, ay,--all ready!" shouted the light-keeper.
"They can't hear," said Mr. Bernard; "the wind is this way."
"All ready!" shouted Kramer again, beckoning with his hand.
"Oh, they are launching a big basket!" cried Ned Gould.
"They are coming in that? Whew!" cried Frank Furman, fairly dancing
with excitement.
"Ready, there?" was shouted again from the vessel.
"All ready!"
"Steady, then--pull!"
"Now, boys, stand off!" said Kramer, motioning the crowd away. "I only
want the men now; steady pulling is what we want."
Mr. Bernard, Mr. Andrews, Mr. Wiseman, Jonas, and Freitag began to pull
with the light-keeper, who timed them with a monotonous, "There she
comes! there she comes!" while the boys watched the basket in breathless
excitement as it moved on, swaying frightfully at times as it hung over
the seething mass of water.
At length a loud cheer from the boys, and a "Hold, there!" from the
occupants of the basket, announced its safe arrival with its precious
freight.
The vessel's cook and the captain's little son, a boy of eight years,
were the passengers, and a cheer, loud and long, as they were helped
ashore, announced their safety to the anxious father on the wreck.
The basket was speedily returned to the vessel, and once more it started
on its shoreward trip.
"That's the mate," said the cook. "The captain vowed he'd be the last
man to leave."
"Take that child to the house, and tell mother to get him warmed, John,"
said the light-keeper.
The boy refused to go until his father should get across; so Joe wrapped
him in his overcoat, and they stood together watching the advancing
basket.
"How did it seem coming over in that basket?" asked Joe.
"I don't know; I was too frightened to think; I kept my eyes shut, and
just curled down in Jim's lap."
Another cheer presently announced the arrival of the basket the second
time, as the mate landed safely and waved a signal to the captain.
"I tell you, friends, that cheer you sent up when the basket got across
with the captain's boy was the most welcome sound I ever heard; and poor
captain, he almost broke down with joy. Now if we can get him over
safely we shall give thanks in earnest."
Away went the basket to the wreck as fast as the men could pull the
rope, every foot of which the mate examined carefully as they pulled.
[Illustration: Away went the basket to the wreck.]
The captain was below, when the basket reached the vessel, and it was
some minutes before he reappeared.
"He has got Jingo, Bertie," cried the mate.
"Oh, has he? I thought Jingo would have to drown. Are you sure, Mr.
Osmond?"
"Yes," said the mate, looking through his field-glass. "He is going to
stow everything into that basket that he can. I am afraid he will get
it too full."
"Ready!" shouted the captain.
"Steady!" cried the mate. "If we spill that load we lose the best man
that ever trod the deck of a vessel!"
Again the light-keeper's monotonous chant, "There she comes! there she
comes!" commenced, and slowly and steadily the basket advanced.
Suddenly, when it was about two-thirds of the distance over, the rope
ceased to move, and the basket hung motionless over the rough sea.
"What's the matter?" shouted the light-keeper, looking at the mate.
"The cable must have caught on the rigging, with no one there to keep it
clear. We thought we guarded against that," said the mate.
"Oh, father can't get ashore!" cried the child, pale with terror.
Joe tried to comfort him, assuring him that they would find some way to
save him.
Another pull, long and strong, but the rope did not yield.
"What will be done?" asked Mr. Bernard, losing all his ordinary
calmness. "Can he help himself at all?"
"He can if anybody can," answered the mate gruffly.
"Hark, he is calling!"
Every ear was strained to catch the words.
"Let go there! let's see if I can move."
They all left the rope and crowded near the edge of the rocks, watching
the slow and dangerous transit as the shaky basket was pushed along step
by step, with a jerky motion that tipped the basket from side to side in
a frightful way.
"Hold on there; I'll sling a line, captain," as the basket came near
enough to make it possible.
The man seemed too exhausted to pull a foot further, and he crouched
down in the basket as low as possible, with hands outstretched to catch
the line.
A dozen attempts were made in vain, as the wind would blow it out of its
course; but at last the coil dropped into the basket, and was easily
clutched and made fast.
The boys commenced to cheer, but Mr. Bernard hushed them, saying, "Not
now, boys,--wait!"
Steadily on came the basket now, and in a few moments the mate seized it
and steadied it as the captain stepped ashore.
"O father!" cried his son, throwing his arms around him.
"Thank God for his great goodness!" he said reverently, as he held the
child close.
The basket contained dry clothing for the party, and among it little
Herbert's rat-terrier, almost lifeless with fright.
The light-keeper hurried the rescued party to the house, where his wife
had hot coffee and a bountiful meal ready for them. The men were too
much exhausted to talk, and were glad to accept the offer of a chance to
sleep off their fatigue.
"Now, boys, we must go back and leave it quiet here; these men need
rest."
"Come on, then, John and Jerry; show us the spouting-horn," cried Joe.
"Will it take us far out of the way, boys? I am too tired to waste
steps," said Mr. Bernard.
"No, sir; we can go to camp right up that shore," and John led the way,
running like a young deer.
"There she spouts!" he shouted as they came within sight of it.
Loud were the exclamations of surprise and delight as the column of
water shot up into the air with a boom like a cannon.
"What makes it?" asked Maurice Perry.
"I don't know, I'm sure," said John. "This one always does so after a
storm; and one on the other side there spouts and bangs at low tide--the
lower the tide the louder she bangs."
Mr. Bernard and the rest of the party had arrived now, and as if for
their benefit the horn spouted full eighty feet, dropping the spray in a
shower all around them.
"What makes it bang so, Mr. Bernard?" asked Maurice again, not satisfied
with John's answer.
"The air driven by a rush of the water, Maurice. There is a hole in the
side of that rock, extending up to the surface, and the air rushes
through, followed presently by a mass of water, and the escape of the
air from its pursuer causes the loud report."
"It is simply a big pop-gun," said Joe, "and it works itself, without
any boy's help."
"Oh, I see a rainbow," said Lewis Germaine.
"Where, where?" asked the others.
"Right there in the spray."
"Oh, so there is! just as bright."
"Isn't that fine?"
After they had exhausted the list of adjectives expressing their
admiration and delight, John said, "I'll show you somethin' else some
time when it's low tide."
This he said with a very proud air, as if he owned all the wonders of
the island.
"Show it now."
"Can't; it only shows at low tide."
"Oh, the other spouter!"
"No; somethin' else."
"What is it?--tell us." And the boys gathered around him.
"Why, right down there, where you see that big rock with a sharp
pick--see it? Well, right down behind there is a place where the tide
leaves a big puddle when it goes out, and that puddle is full of live
things."
"What are they?" asked Joe laughing;--"not whales?"
"Oh, nothin' like that. Flowery kind of things, awful pretty, that shut
up if you look at 'em very hard, or leastways if you poke 'em ever so
easy."
"Those are sea-anemones," said Mr. Bernard.
"Then there are crowds of little things with pricks all over their
backs, and if you turn them over they stick out those splinters
sideways, and make 'em long-like, and pull themselves right side up
again," said John, trying to imitate, with his own arms, the
sea-urchin's movements with his spines.
"There's more than that there, too," piped Jerry. "There's five-fingers,
plenty of 'em--big ones, and baby-fellers, too, no bigger than your
finger-nail; nor so big."
"Sometimes fish get in there, too," said John. "I tell you it's an
awful pretty puddle."
"I should think so, indeed," said Mr. Andrews. "It certainly is a
'puddle' worth seeing.--When will the tide be low, Jonas?"
"About five o'clock, I reckon, though the fog has been too thick to tell
whether there has been any tide or not," answered the cook, who had come
with the others to see the "spouting-horn."
"Very little doubt of that, I should judge from appearances," said Mr.
Lane, one of the teachers.
"I am too tired to come over again to-day, boys," said Mr. Bernard,
turning to take little Max's hand. "But you can come at low tide, if you
like. I suppose John and his brother will be willing to meet you."
"Oh, they are going to camp with us!--Aren't you, John?"
"No; we want to see what becomes of the wreck--we don't have one every
day."
"No, I hope not," said Joe. "Well, good-bye till to-night."
*CHAPTER VIII.*
*ANEMONE POOL.*
"By the time we get over there, Mr. Andrews, the tide will be down. Are
you ready?" called Joe, rapping on the tent occupied by that gentleman
and Mr. Lane.
"Yes; we will come directly. You need not wait."
"All right, sir.--Come on, boys. They'll come after. Who wants to
race?"
"I do," cried Walter Martin. "Race open for all! No handicapping
either. One, two, three! Luck to the fellow that happens to start
ahead!"
Away went two score boys over the pasture, like a herd of wild deer,
clearing the hillocks and patches of hemlock at a bound.
Dave got the lead, and, with Joe close at his heels, he reached the
woods; and there discovering that they had the race to themselves, and
the other boys calling "Time! time!" at the top of their voices, they
both cried "Quits," and dropped together by a blueberry patch, where, as
soon as they recovered breath, they began to pick and eat. They waited
there until their companions came up; and then, tired of racing, the
party sauntered lazily along, picking berries by the way.
"No John or Jerry here yet?" said Maurice Perry, as they came near the
rendezvous.
"We can find the place easy enough though," said Ned Gould. "It was
near that rock with a peaked top, John said."
The whole troop of boys leaped down from rock to rock along the
boulder-strown shore, until they reached the rock spoken of as a
landmark.
"I don't believe the tide is low enough," said Joe, peering into one
pool after another. "Hullo! there are John and Jerry.--Hullo there!
Come, find your 'puddle.' We can't."
"Good reason why. It's covered up with water. The tide isn't low
enough. There it is, right there; but you've got to wait till the tide
is down, and the water in the 'puddle' settles."
After a while, a standing-place on the outer edge of the pool was free
from water, and as many of the boys as possible crowded upon it.
"You'd better get off that. A big wave will come and give you a
duckin'," said John laughing.
The boys were hesitating whether to heed the advice, when a shout went
up from the crowd higher up on the rocks.
"Jump! Quick! You'll be ducked!"
The shout gave the warning to some in time, and, leaping across the
pool, they clambered up to a safe place; but others, stopping to look
around and see what was the matter, were drenched by a huge incoming
wave, that fairly took them from their feet and hurled them into John's
"puddle," among the "live things" he had told them of.
There was a great shrieking, and sputtering, and splashing, as the boys
emerged from their bath, wiser, if not sadder, for the experience.
When the teachers arrived, they found some half-dozen boys dressed in an
exceedingly primitive style, while they wrung their clothes, and hung
them to dry on the boulders.
"I told 'em not to go there," said John. "You can't hurry the tide out;
it takes its own time, no matter how many folks is waitin'."
"'Time and tide wait for no man,'" suggested Maurice.
"Well, the rest of us will take warning, and keep where it is safe,"
said Mr. Andrews, striving to peer into the troubled waters of the pool.
After a few more waves had swept over, making the crowd run back in a
lively way from the edge, John announced oracularly,--
"There, that's about the last. There won't be any more come over that
strip of ledge on the other side; but you can't see nothin' till it gets
settled."
He was right in his prophecy: no more rude waves chased them from their
position, and gradually the water of the pool grew clearer and clearer,
until some of its wonders could be plainly seen.
"I see an anemone!" cried Mr. Andrews.
"Yes, dozens of them. How beautiful--purple and yellow in every shade!"
added Mr. Lane.
"What! those filmy-looking things against the sides?" asked Joe, lying
flat on the rocks to see better.
"Yes; those are sea-anemones."
"See 'em shut up when I poke 'em," cried John, coming with a stick to
show them off.
"No, no, John; not yet," cried Mr. Andrews, motioning him away. "We
want to see them open. See them wave their tentacles in search of food!
Ah, one fellow has a periwinkle eating!"
"You don't mean to say that soft-looking thing can eat that winkle!"
exclaimed Dave.
"Yes, indeed, and very much larger things than that.--Let me take the
stick, John."
Then touching one of the anemones with it in the gentlest way, he caused
it to draw in its tentacles and shut up like a puckered bag, all beauty
gone.
"Oh, leave the rest open!" cried the boys.
Mr. Lane stooped down, and, working carefully and perseveringly,
detached one from the side of the rock, and offered it to Joe. But it
was not an inviting-looking object out of its element; and Joe,
shrinking back, said, "Thanks,--no jelly for me."
"Now look at the sea-urchins and star-fish," said Mr. Andrews, picking
up a specimen of each. "See these spines, how stiff and unyielding they
look."
"Only put him down bottom upward," interposed Jerry, setting one down
that he held in his hand.
The boys crowded around and watched the curious creature as he slanted
his spines until he brought them into position where he could move
himself on them, and gradually bring himself right side up again.
The boys experimented with them and with the star-fish for a long time,
and tried to spread the latter out to dry on the rocks; but by the time
they had smoothed out the last ray the first would be curling up,
conscious that it was in an unfriendly place.
"We will take some over to camp and pin them on a board," said Mr. Lane,
collecting specimens of various sizes from that of a penny to that of a
hat-crown.
"Pin them down? You wouldn't stick pins into them, Mr. Lane!" said Joe,
horrified.
"In the cause of science. Besides, they have no brains, and
consequently no feelings to hurt."
"They may not have brains; but if they have no feeling, why do they
twist up when you bother them?"
"I've seen 'em growing a new finger when one's been pulled off," piped
Jerry.
"Yes; they can readily supply any such loss."
"Wasn't I right in saying it was a pretty puddle?" asked John proudly.
"Yes, indeed; but it deserves a better name. Let's call it Anemone
Pool."
"That's it. That sounds first-rate," answered the boys. "Anemone Pool
it is."
The wet clothes were still damp, but the owners dressed themselves, and
were proceeding to hurry away, when John said, "Hold on! I forgot to
tell you something." The boys stood still and looked back, waiting for
the speaker to come to them.
"Those men from the wreck said they spoke a fishing-smack just off
yonder the night before the storm, and they had aboard two of the
scaredest fellows you ever see."
The boys were all attention now, and crowded around John.
"The captain of the smack said the boys had been sea-sick ever since
they shipped, and as soon as the fog came on they had been so frightened
he didn't know what to do with 'em."
"Well, what did he do?" demanded Joe impatiently.
"He wanted Captain Melrose to take them off his hands; he thought there
was goin' to be a storm, and he really hadn't room for 'em. He said
they just stayed around and moped."
"Poor fellows!" said Joe soberly.
"Captain Melrose couldn't take 'em; he was bound out. The other cap'n
said somethin' about the two belongin' on an island with a
campin'-party; and afterwards when he came ashore here and see all you
fellows he concluded this was the island."
The boys exchanged glances with Mr. Lane and Mr. Andrews, but not a word
was spoken for several minutes; then Mr. Andrews said, "Boys, go on to
camp, and Mr. Lane and I will go back to the lighthouse and interview
these men to see if we can get any further information."
The boys went slowly away, feeling very sober over John's news, and the
two teachers hastened in the opposite direction.
"What do you suppose has become of them?" asked Dave, in a low tone, of
his friend Joe.
"I wish I knew; and yet I don't either. That awful storm came after
Captain Melrose spoke the smack. Oh, I wish they would come sailing by
now!"
"What would you do?"
"I would fly over to Mr. Bernard and beg him to let them land. I think
they've been punished enough, and I think he thinks so too, and would
forgive them."
"Who wants to go out in the boat?" shouted Ned Gould, looking back
towards Joe and Dave, who owned part of the little craft.
"I," said Joe; "but it's too rough yet from the storm. Look at the
white-caps."
"Who cares for white-caps? It's all the more fun when the boat dances."
"Well, fun or no fun, you won't get Mr. Bernard's permission to go
before to-morrow, and very likely not then."
"Oh, bother! Mr. Bernard is always tying us up so. We can't go here,
we can't go there," said Ned angrily.
"That's so. I should think we were old enough to do as we choose. My
father doesn't want me to be made a Miss Nancy; he wants me to rough
it," growled Walter Martin.
"I've managed a boat ever since I was out of petticoats," continued Ned,
"and father knows it; but I suppose Mr. Bernard would be horrified if I
should ask leave to borrow the light-keeper's boat for a sail."
"I don't think Mr. Bernard is a bit too strict," said Joe boldly. "Just
remember that he has the care of a big crowd, and feels responsible for
our safety. I believe most of our folks would say he couldn't be too
careful in such a place as this."
"Oh, of course you would stand up for him!" sneered Walter, "you and he
are such friends."
Joe laughed good-naturedly.
"Well, if we can't use our boat we might as well set her adrift. What's
the use of having a boat?" growled Walter.
"Bite off your nose to spite your face!" whispered Dave.
"I'll tell you what we'll do. I'll get Mr. Bernard to let us go off to
the other end of the island down by the place John told us about, and
we'll bring our lunch and have a high time!" exclaimed Joe.
"Can't go without a teacher along to look after us, just as if we were
infants out with their nurse," grumbled Walter.
"I will ask Mr. Bernard to give us liberty for once, and trust us to
take care of ourselves," laughed Joe, determined to restore Walter to
good-nature.
"He won't do it."
"I'll ask, anyhow. I believe he will."
"There's the supper-bell!" shouted Dave, dashing away toward camp.
The rest of the crowd quickened their steps to a run, and were soon
gathered around the table, having returned from their long walk with
keen appetites.
Joe gave Mr. Bernard the story told by Captain Melrose and repeated to
them by John Kramer; and added that the two teachers had gone on to the
lighthouse, hoping to hear something that would give them a clue to the
whereabouts of the fishing-smack.
*CHAPTER IX.*
*A DAY OF FREEDOM.*
The next morning, directly after breakfast, Joe was reminded of his
promise, and approaching Mr. Bernard, he said, "I want to ask a favour,
sir."
"Very well, Joe."
"We boys, the whole crowd of us, want to go off on a lark."
"That is frankly said, Joe," said Mr. Bernard smiling.
Joe laughed, and continued, "We want to go over to a fishing-place John
tells about, where the fish are extra big and quick to bite."
"I am willing, Joe, perfectly willing."
"But that isn't all, Mr. Bernard," said Joe reddening, and finding it
harder to ask the favour than he expected. "We want to go on our own
hook, and not have any one to look after us."
"That would be sorry fishing, to get on your own hooks, Chester," was
the laughing reply. "But I understand: you object to the company of the
teachers. Is that it?"
That did not sound just right to Joe, but it was the truth; so he
laughed and admitted the fact. "What have you against us, Joe? Are we
too strict?" asked Mr. Bernard good-naturedly. "Have we offended your
majesties in any way?"
"Oh no, sir. The teachers are very nice; but some of the boys think
they are tied up too much, and get kind of uneasy."
Mr. Bernard glanced over the crowd of boys gathered round to hear the
decision, and seemed to be studying the question.
"We would be just as careful as if the teachers were there," interposed
Lewis Swift; and many other voices added a like assurance.
"Very well, boys. If you will all be careful, I will agree to your
going without a leader. I think myself that it is much wiser to have
one of the teachers with such a troop of boys. When men gather in
companies, they always appoint a leader, and consider it no disgrace to
them."
"That's so," said Joe Chester. "I never thought of that; did you,
Walt?"
"No, but I'm for a day of freedom!" replied Walter in a low tone. Then
aloud he said, "So we may go, Mr. Bernard, may we?"
"Yes, you may go. Success to you, and a safe return!"
"Three cheers for the teachers!" cried Ned Gould, waving his cap, and
adding in a low tone to Walter, "Nice fellows--at a distance!"
Jonas grumbled a good deal at having so many lunches to put up.
"It's worse than getting dinner for you! It will take all my bread and
gingerbread."
"Put in plenty; we'll be hungry as sharks," said David, bringing along a
good-sized basket.
"Put in some potatoes, Jonas, and we'll make a fire and cook some for
dinner ourselves. I can fry fish on a stick," said Joe.
"Now, you youngsters, save all the fish you catch, and Freitag and I'll
come over and fetch 'em back."
"All right, Jonas; we'll have a big load for you."
Mr. Bernard gave them numerous cautions; and, promising to remember
them, the boys hurried away, laden with baskets of lunch, fishing-rods,
and bait.
They were in high spirits, and Mr. Bernard could hear them, long after
they were out of sight, singing, "Cheer, boys, cheer."
"This is something like--don't you say so, boys? It seems good to be our
own masters. I'm sick of hearing 'Don't do this,' and 'You'd better not
do that.' It spoils all the fun of camping out."
"Well, Walt, we are free for once. Let's enjoy our liberty, and not
grumble," said Joe.
They made a second breakfast of blueberries on the way, and arrived at
the fishing-place in the best of spirits.
They found the sport, as John had told them, the liveliest kind
imaginable; and all were soon engaged with hook and line.
The tide was quite low, but coming in steadily, and they found it
necessary to retreat before it continually. Sometimes the advancing
waves would overtake them in their eagerness for one more bite, and as a
result it was necessary now and then to remove their rubber boots and
empty out the water.
"I guess there'll be more fish than Jonas and his man Friday will want
to carry," said Dave, as he began to gather the fish from the rocks to
put them in the basket. "Let's have a lunch."
"So say I," said Donald Parker. "There's plenty of drift-wood close at
hand."
The fires were soon built, the potatoes were put to roast, and the fish
were hung by the gills on sticks over the coals.
There was a great deal of laughing and shouting over the preparation for
"Lunch No. 1," as they called this, intending to save enough food to
have several more during the day.
Some began to eat their fish before they were half cooked, and others
found theirs burned or smoked; but all were merry over the gipsy meal,
when Joe, standing up and looking around, said, "Where are Walt and
Ned?"
"Sure enough, where are they?" asked Dave, dropping his fish into the
fire. "I haven't heard their voices for ever so long."
"Nor I," said several boys.
"Not since we first got here."
"Walt Martin! Ned Gould!"
"Ned! Walt!" shouted the crowd, making war-whoops with their hands over
their mouths.
"Shout again, all together!"
Again they all shouted, loud enough to frighten the mermaids in the sea.
"Ho, Walt!"
Only a prolonged echo came back, and seemed to mock them.
"Now it's mean for those fellows to go off and frighten us!" cried Joe
indignantly.
"I say as much. They've hid somewhere to make us hunt them up. I move
we let them wait, and eat our lunch."
So they began eating again, talking meanwhile of their missing
companions.
No one remembered anything about them after they reached the rocks.
Each boy had been busy selecting his place, baiting hooks, and pulling
in fish, with the frequent shout, "Look out there! Big wave coming!"
Then would be a rushing back, and dragging of lines, as the tide pursued
them further and further back.
"Perhaps they've gone up to the lighthouse," suggested Dave. "I'll go
up and see."
"Hold on, Dave; I'll go too," said Joe, disposing hastily of a large
piece of gingerbread. "One of you fellows tend my fish."
"All right! Eat it, too, if you want us."
Joe and David met John and Jerry coming rapidly down over the rocks.
"We heard an awful yelling, and thought we'd come and see what the
matter was."
"We were calling Walt and Ned. We thought perhaps they had come up
here. Have you seen anything of them?"
"No; they haven't been near us. Perhaps they've tumbled into the sea."
"Cheerful suggestion!" said Joe, shrugging his shoulders.
"They'd hardly be likely to do so without one yell at least; and both of
them together would make a considerable noise. No; I suppose they are
hiding somewhere to frighten us."
"What are you doing--fishing?"
"Yes; you see we are over here by ourselves--no teachers with us," said
Joe.
"Wish there was now!" added Dave.
"So do I. If one of the teachers had come, those boys wouldn't be
playing their pranks this way."
"What's the matter?" shouted Mr. Kramer, coming out on the ledge before
his door. "What are you youngsters howling about?"
"We can't find two of the boys."
"Can't find 'em! Where were they when you see 'em last?"
"They came over from camp with us, and we all began to fish; that's the
last any of us saw of them."
"Humph! that's a nice business," said the light-keeper thoughtfully,
knocking the ashes out of his pipe, and tucking it in the pocket of his
monkey-jacket.
"We didn't miss them until we made our fires and were cooking our fish."
Jacob Kramer said nothing, but started across the ledge that paved his
yard.
"How long have you been over there fishing?"
"Oh, we got there by nine o'clock."
"And now it is about eleven," said Kramer, looking at the sun.
"Yes, sir," replied Joe, referring to his little silver watch; "it is
five minutes past."
"If they went around the cliff just beyond the fishing-place, and didn't
watch, the tide would soon cut them off."
Joe and Dave looked frightened.
"Where would they be now? can they get over the cliff?"
"Over the cliff? Not much, unless they can walk up a wall like a fly.
It isn't less than forty feet high in any place right there, and part o'
the way it's sixty and seventy, straight up and down. I'll go and look
over."
He led the way to the brow of the cliff, about twenty yards off; and,
lying down flat, looked over the edge.
The boys held their breath until he spoke.
"Yes; there are the young scamps!"
Joe and Dave threw themselves upon the ground and crept to the edge
also.
"Keep back there, you rascals! This is no place for you."
The boys crept back until it was safe to stand again, saying, "I saw
them!"
"So did I! What a place!"
"Hullo, down there!" shouted Mr. Kramer.
Ned and Walter looked up in evident surprise and relief.
"O Mr. Kramer, can't you get us off?" they screamed.
"I don't think I can."
"The tide is coming higher and higher, and we have climbed as far as we
can. Will we have to drown?"
The light-keeper looked down some time before answering--it seemed an
hour to Joe--then he said in a tone the boys below could not hear, "The
tides are so much higher now, and the sea so rough since the storm,
there's no knowin' how high it will get."
The boys below, tired of waiting for an answer, screamed, "Mr. Kramer,
do something to help us. Bring a boat around here and take us off."
"That's the worst place on the island to take a boat. The water drives
in furiously, and then sucks back enough to drag the solid cliff after
it, if it wasn't anchored very strong."
This the light-keeper said to the two boys near him; and Ned and Walter,
in their perilous position under the cliff, waited breathlessly for an
answer, nearly frantic at the delay.
"Mr. Kramer, O Mr. Kramer! How high does the tide come here?"
"I can't see. Can't you tell by the looks of the rocks?"
"No, we don't know how."
"You can tell how high it comes generally by the seaweed and barnacles.
I think it won't come up to you," he said at last.
This was sorry comfort.
"But you are not sure! Oh, come round in the boat, please."
"I shan't risk my boat in there unless it's a case of life or death, for
she'd be smashed in a moment, and no one could save himself in that
whirlpool."
"But can't you go out in the boat and be near, so you could get to them
if the water got too high where they are?" asked Joe eagerly.
Kramer hesitated.
"Oh, do, Mr. Kramer," urged Joe. "We boys will make up a purse and pay
you."
"Nonsense, boy! If I do it at all it won't be for money. I tell you a
boat would get smashed there very quick. It would go against the rocks
in spite of me. I'll get some of those wrecked fellows waked up, and go
out. I suppose the youngsters will feel better to see the boat."
"Oh yes," said Joe; "we shall all feel easier."
"It is almost half an hour yet before the tide is high," said the
light-keeper meditatively as he looked below again.
"Here, you down there! I'll come around in the boat.--John, you run to
the house and wake up a couple of those men. You needn't disturb the
captain. I only want two. Fetch 'em along quick down to the
boat-landing!"
John was off in a minute, and Joe and Dave ran down to the boat with
Kramer, who, now he had made up his mind, seemed inclined to hurry.
The two men from the house soon followed, and the boat was quickly
launched.
*CHAPTER X.*
*BOYS IN A TRAP.*
Meanwhile the other boys, having disposed of their lunch, and hearing
nothing from Joe and David, became more anxious, and set off for the
lighthouse.
There they learned from Mrs. Kramer that John had reported Walter and
Ned surrounded by the tide, and that the boat was to be launched to go
to the rescue.
In great excitement the crowd of boys rushed down over the rocks to the
place where the men had just pushed off in their boat.
There were two pairs of oars and two strong boat-hooks in the skiff, and
the three men were ready to do all they could for the castaways.
The boat was soon out of sight beyond the spur of the cliff that helped
to form the trap in which Walter and Ned were caught, and the crowd
rushed back to their lunch-place, to see if they could get a glimpse of
the boat there; but another spur, around which the boys had gone to
hide, shut off the view.
When they reached their fishing-ground, they found, to their disgust,
that the tide had risen over much of their lunch, and had carried off
many of their nice, jointed rods, that were still floating provokingly
near, but just out of reach.
The baskets had been tipped over by the waves, spilling all the fine
fish they had caught in the morning.
"Did you ever see such luck?" cried Clifford Davis--"everything at sixes
and sevens."
"This is the result of too much freedom, eh?" asked Don.
"That's so, Don," said Joe. "I wish we were all safe out of this
scrape."
Some of the boys had taken the precaution to throw their rods well up on
the rocks, and with these they tried to rescue the floating baskets and
rods, but with a limited success; only a few could be recovered.
It was a great temptation to Joe and Dave, knowing of the look-out on
the edge of the cliff and yet keeping away from it; but they understood
too well the risk that would be run by a crowd of careless, venturesome
boys, who would never believe that they could come to harm by just
looking over the edge of the cliff, however steep it might be.
The time seemed very long as they waited for Mr. Kramer's return, or
some tidings from the missing boys.
"Pretty near high tide," exclaimed Joe soberly, as he held his watch for
Dave to see.
"The boat is around there by this time, and the question is now whether
they are to be taken off that way or left to wait for the tide to get as
low as it was when they dodged around that place."
"Why, isn't Mr. Kramer going to take them off anyway?" asked Lewis
Germaine.
"Not if he finds they are safe without it. He won't risk his boat in
there if they can be saved any other way. The water rushes in there
like a mill-race, and sweeps out again the same way."
"Then we may have to wait two or three hours yet before we can see the
boys!" exclaimed Don.
"Yes," said Joe, "all that time."
He presently whispered to David, "I can't stand it, boy. You stay here,
so the others won't suspect. I am going to look, if I can steal off
without their knowing it. Don't you say that I'm gone."
"All right," said Dave. "Get back as quick as you can."
Joe began skipping stones lazily, and, moving slowly away from the rest
of the party, disappeared behind some rocks, beyond which he dropped
suddenly, and crept on hands and knees up the bank where the bushes were
thickest.
Once out of sight of his companions, he arose and hurried out to the
point on the cliff overlooking the prison-house of his two friends.
There he crept carefully to the edge and looked over.
"Good! they are safe, and there's the boat."
"How are you there? All right?" he heard the mate of the wrecked vessel
shout.
"All right! No, sir--not by a good deal. The water is still coming
up," shouted Walter.
As the boat was pulled within speaking distance the frightened boys
became more and more alarmed, it plunged about so wildly on the rough
water; and they thought, perilous as their position was, it was
preferable to a change to the boat.
"We'll drown getting into that skiff, Walt," said Ned, paler than ever
at the dilemma.
"Yes, if there is any chance here, I would rather stay till the tide
goes down; wouldn't you?"
"Yes, I would."
"Say, Mr. Kramer, just lie off there, and wait; perhaps the water won't
come up here."
"That's just what I'm doing. You don't catch me risk my boat in there
unless you are ready to go under."
"When is it high tide?" shouted Walter.
"Five minutes before twelve."
Walter looked at his watch eagerly. "I believe it won't reach us, Ned.
It is ten minutes off high now, and unless the last few waves are extra
high we will have a standing-place in this cleft in the rock."
Ten minutes dragged slowly away, and the angry waves had not reached
them. They waited a little longer, to be sure, and then cried joyfully,
"It is twelve o'clock and after, and we are all right."
"Good! Then all you've got to do is to wait, and learn wisdom against
another time. The tide will be down low enough to let you out of that
trap in about two hours and a half, or three, at most."
The boys groaned, and then Ned said dolefully, "We'll starve to death.
I didn't know I was hungry until the danger was over."
"You'll be hungrier before you get off," shouted the hard-hearted
Kramer, laughing provokingly.--"A good lesson for the young scamps. It
seems they made a fuss about having a teacher go along with 'em to look
after them, so the head man, Mr. Bernard, let 'em off alone to-day.
That little chap, Joe, he owned they'd got enough of it."
"I'll lower them something with a line when we get ashore," said the
mate, glancing up at the perpendicular face of the cliff. "It isn't
long ago that I was wrecked myself and wanted help."
Joe had seen enough to gladden his heart as he lay looking over the edge
of his high perch. The boys were safe at high tide, and the boat was
coming back without them, so he went back toward his companions, and
when within hailing distance, cried, "Come on, boys; let's go over to
the boat-landing, and wait till Mr. Kramer gets back."
The boys were ready for anything that would help to pass away the time,
and they rushed away in time to see the boat rounding the rocky point
that had hidden it from view.
"Whew! there they come, but no Walt or Ned," exclaimed Cliff Davis.
"What did you find out, Joe?" whispered David, locking arms with his
friend.
"The boys are all right: the water won't come any higher. But won't it
seem a long time before they get back?"
When the boat reached the landing the mate called cheerily, "Boys, your
messmates are all right, but very hungry; have you got any dinner with
you?"
"Yes; we saved some for them, but the tide carried off a lot."
"Well, bring it along, and I'll get a line and lower it to them."
"Hurrah for you, sir!" shouted the boys. "Oh how glad they'll be!"
Joe and Dave ran for the lunch, while John scampered to the house for a
long line.
Going out on the cliff, the mate tied the basket to the line, and
prepared to drop it over.
"Stand back," he shouted, as the boys crowded forward. "I shan't do it
unless you all stand back."
"Are they down there? Can you see them?" asked the boys eagerly.
"Yes, I see them."
"My! just think, we might have been here watching them just as well as
not," exclaimed Lewis.
Joe and Dave exchanged wise glances at this, and Mr. Kramer said, "Lucky
you didn't know it, for a crowd of you boys jiggling and pushing and
fooling, as boys do, would have gone over. Stand back there!"
"Hullo, below!" shouted the mate. "Here's some food for you."
Walter and Ned, looking up, saw the basket slowly descending, and the
boys listening heard a faint cheer above the roar of the sea.
"Got it?"
"Yes, all right!" shouted Walter, taking the basket from the line.
"There! that's all I can do for them," said the mate, reeling in the
line. "Now, boys, I'll give you some advice for nothing: Go back to a
safer place, and wait for your friends. They will be prisoners for over
two hours yet, and if you stay here some of the rest of you will be
pretty likely to tumble over to keep them company; only I reckon your
company wouldn't be good for much after you got down there."
"All right, sir," said Joe, glad to have some one speak
authoritatively.--"Come on, boys! Let's go back and lie around on the
rocks and tell stories."
"Agreed, if you will be the teller," cried several, knowing that he had
Robinson Crusoe and the Arabian Nights at his tongue's end.
Away went the crowd back to the fishing-place; and Mr. Kramer and the
other two men returned to the lighthouse.
*CHAPTER XI.*
*THE ESCAPE.*
The time passed much more quickly to the crowd listening to Joe, as they
lay on the rocks in every attitude imaginable, than to Walter and Ned
under the cliff, with the sea still surging around them.
As soon as their fright was over, they began to blame each other for the
trouble they were in.
"It was your idea, hiding from the boys," said Ned, as they paced to and
fro as far as their prison would allow.
"Yes; but you were just as willing as I, old fellow. We were both
idiots. We might have known the tide would cut us off."
"Won't the teachers laugh at us! 'Serve them right,' they'll say,
plague on them!" grumbled Ned.
"Well, it does serve us right; but I wish the boys would keep quiet
about it though, and not give the teachers a chance to laugh at us."
"But they won't; they'll say it's too good to keep."
The lunch lowered by the mate restored their good-nature, and they
waited, watch in hand, as the waters abated around their perch. Ned
even recovered enough to joke about their misfortune, and Walter sang,--
"On a lone, barren isle,
Where the wild, angry billows
Assail the stern rock," etc.
At length the tide was so low they ventured out to the high rock that
shut them away from the rest of the party; and too impatient to wait
longer, they doffed boots and stockings, rolled their trousers above
their knees, and, waiting till the waves rolled back, they dashed into
the water, and were quickly around the other side of the cliff, and in
sight of their companions.
"There they are!" shouted Don Parker, interrupting Joe's story in its
most exciting part.
"Where?"--"Who?"
"Walt and Ned."
"Sure enough, so they are!"
"Hurrah!"--"Welcome to the castaways!" cried the crowd, leaping to their
feet.
"Glad to see you, old fellows!" said Joe; "but you gave us an awful
fright."
"We gave ourselves a greater, I'll be bound," said Walter frankly.
"That was a mighty uncomfortable place we stumbled into."
"Yes, and we thought we'd seen the last of you fellows," added Ned,
throwing himself down upon the rock, and pillowing his head on his
locked arms as he lay on his back. "That's just as near as I want to
come to Robinson Crusoe's experience. We were worse off than he was--he
had plenty of room; and one time when the tide was highest we had the
spray flying over our heads. My coat is wet now."
"Is it this week, or next, or the year 1900?" said Walt. "It seems ages
since we dodged around behind that rock to see if we could frighten
you."
"You won't feel complimented, I am afraid," said Joe laughing, "when I
tell you we didn't miss you till noon. We were so busy fishing, we
thought only of that, until some one went to cook fish; then we all got
hungry and decided to have a lunch. When we got ready to eat we missed
you."
"That was when we heard them shouting, Ned."
"Yes, I suppose so."
"Why didn't you answer?"
"We did; we just yelled. But it was no use, and we knew it, for we
could hardly hear you, the sea roared so, as it made up into that pocket
in the cliff; and we knew by the sound that you were all shouting
together, though it reached us just as faintly. Oh! it was awful there.
I thought I was a pretty good kind of a fellow till then, and I thought
of all the bad things I ever did."
"So did I," said Ned, looking up at the clouds meditatively. "I wonder
if folks always do when they get into danger?"
"I think they do. I've heard my uncle tell how he felt when he came
within an inch of drowning. He said everything came back to him like a
flash," said Cliff Davis.
"Well, it's awful anyway!" added Walter. "I shall never forget how it
seemed to have that water come at us like wild beasts, roaring and
snapping at us as if it would swallow us whole in a minute."
"Don't talk about it, Walt," said Ned shuddering "I saw you down below
there, when Mr. Kramer first hailed you," said Joe to change the
subject, which was getting painful.
"You did?" asked Ned, opening his half-closed eyes.
"You did?" echoed the crowd.
"Where were you?"
"Yes, that's what we would like to know."
"Up on the cliff, lying flat on my stomach; but as soon as I got one
glimpse, Mr. Kramer ordered me back."
"Why didn't you tell us, so we could look?" grumbled the crowd.
"I didn't want you to break your necks. It was bad enough to have two
fellows down in that trap, without letting the rest of the party tumble
down on them. Kramer drove me back, but I went and peeped once
afterwards. Dave knew I was going. I couldn't stand it a minute
longer; I knew the men had gone in the boat, and was afraid you two
would drown before it could get around there, or afraid the boat would
swamp if you tried to get in. I prayed hard for a minute."
"Did you?" asked Walter, looking quickly at Joe. "So did I--harder than
I ever did before in all my life."
Ned said nothing, but lay with his eyes closed; and the other boys were
unusually quiet.
"Wasn't I glad to hear you say, 'It's twelve o'clock, and we are safe!'"
"Is my hair gray, Joe?" asked Walter, half laughing, and half in
earnest, as he took off his round cap, and revealed a crop of short
black curls.
"Not much that I can see."
"I have heard of hair turning gray from fright, and I thought perhaps I
might be needing hair-dye."
"When shall we go back to camp, boys?" asked Dave.
"It depends on whether you are going to tell about our scrape, whether I
go back at all," replied Walter, laughing, and yet half in earnest.
"You fellows promise not to say anything about it, won't you?"
"I am willing. It's all over now, and no harm done to any one; but the
teachers will hear of it from Kramer," replied Joe.
"Yes, I suppose so; but don't let's tell to-day."
"Just as you say. We got a joke on ourselves too. While we were rushing
around looking at the boat, the tide came up over our baskets of fish
and the lunch, and carried off the very best of the fishing-rods. So the
laugh will be against us all."
"Here is Jonas with his 'man Friday,' after the fish!" exclaimed Maurice
Perry, doubling up with a fit of laughter, as he glanced at the empty
baskets that had been rescued after much effort.
"Well, boys, had good luck?" called Jonas as soon as he came within
speaking distance.
"First-rate, Jonas," answered Joe.
"Where are the fish, then?" demanded Jonas, staring at the empty
baskets.
"Echo answers, 'Where?'"
"You didn't catch any, after all. You've been foolin' around here all
day!" cried the cook wrathfully. "Now you'll get little supper for this,
'cause I've been dependin' on them fish. Here, give me a rod! I'll
catch some for the gentlemen's supper. You boys can go without.--Come
on, Freitag!"
The boys were rolling on the rocks and laughing, which added greatly to
Jonas's wrath.
"Lazy scamps!" he said.
"Now, Jonas," remonstrated Joe, as soon as he could recover himself and
sober his face enough to speak, "we are not laughing at you; we are
laughing at ourselves. Don't get mad. We met with a big misfortune.
We got fish enough to stock a market--beauties too; and while we went
over to see Mr. Kramer the tide came up and swept them all out, and
worse still, carried off our fishing-tackle."
"That's so, Jonas."
"Humph! great thing to laugh about!" grumbled Jonas, somewhat mollified.
"You ought to pity rather than scold us," cried Joe, pretending to feel
hurt. "We lost most of our lunch, too. You'll do as well as you can
for us with supper, won't you?--'cause this has been an awful hard day
on us."
"Oh--oh, hear!" cried the crowd, writhing again in convulsions of
laughter.
Jonas shrewdly suspected that they had not told all their bad luck; but
he had heard enough, and summoning Friday to get a fishing-rod and hurry
along, he went down where it seemed most probable to him that the fish
would be plenty.
When the boys went back to camp they fully intended to keep the rest of
the story to themselves; but at the supper-table, when Mr. Bernard asked
for an account of their day's adventures, each looked at his neighbour
to see who would be spokesman, and in looking they fell to laughing, and
there was no one sober enough to answer.
"You evidently had a very jolly day, boys," said Mr. Bernard, with a
twinkle in his gray eyes.
"Not very, sir," said Joe, feeling that it was impolite to leave the
remark unanswered. The boys all laughed again, and Joe said, "The tide
carried off our lunch, and our fish, and ever so many of the best rods."
"Ah, that was bad, but not half so had as if you were in danger
yourselves."
The boys exchanged glances, and Walter and Ned reddened very
uncomfortably.
Had the news travelled across the island so soon?
Surely Mr. Andrews and Mr. Lane both looked very wise as they glanced
down the double row of boys.
"It's no use; I am going to tell," exclaimed Walter abruptly. "We had a
horrid time, Mr. Bernard. Ned and I got hemmed in by the tide, and had
to stay five hours. It wasn't much fun."
"I had heard as much, Walter," said Mr. Bernard kindly. "Mr. Kramer
told Jonas. We may thank a kind Providence that you escaped with your
lives. It was a very frightful experience, I am sure. I don't see how
any of you can feel like laughing."
"O Mr. Bernard," said Joe apologetically, "we didn't all day, I assure
you. We were wretched enough while Walt and Ned were missing; but after
they got back safe, and we came to think it all over, and remember that
we were only having our own way as we wanted to, and what a hard way it
had turned out, it struck us as a pretty good joke on ourselves."
"Perhaps it was, boys, but the escape has given us new cause for
thankfulness to the good Lord who holds us in his keeping, and I think
our little prayer-meeting to-night will become a praise-meeting, in
which every heart will join."
*CHAPTER XII.*
*THE MISSING BOYS.*
To take up the story where Ralph and Ben Carver dropped out, we must
return to the evening after the final examination.
They had come to their room early, as all the scholars had, to pack for
their camp trip. Ben pulled out the valises from the closet, and began
to stir up the contents of his trunk to make a selection of the thickest
and oldest garments to take with him.
"There's a jacket in the sear and yellow leaf, but it's warm; in she
goes. Those trousers, I don't know about them. There's a pretty big
hole in them; but yes, they'll do to fish in. Come, Ralph, get your
clothes together," exclaimed Ben, seeing that his room-mate had thrown
himself down astride of a chair, and with his head supported by both
hands, looked like a third-rate tragedy actor.
There was no answer, and Ben went on packing and talking.
"I'm going to take more things this time. I know I hadn't anything fit
to wear last year. Camp-life is very hard on clothes and shoes."
There was no response from Ralph, and Ben, pausing in his packing,
exclaimed,--
"What's the matter, Drayton? You look as glum as a catfish with a hook
in his gills!"
"I feel just as I look, then."
"Come on, boy, we've got to start right after breakfast, and there'll be
no time to pack then."
"I don't care."
"Nonsense! Come, here's your valise gaping at you."
"I'm not going, Carver."
"Fiddlesticks! you are too. There's the foot-ball and your
fishing-tackle. I'll get your things together for you."
"No. I tell you I shan't go. I've let this thing go on far enough. I
absolutely haven't courage to go with the rest of the crowd to that
island, where I can't get away, if I feel ever so much like running."
"The supply of courage has given out, has it?" asked Ben laughing.
"There has been a pretty heavy drain on it, I will admit."
"Yes, it has given out," and Ralph laughed in spite of his melancholy.
"That's bad; but come, old fellow, you'll feel better after we get off."
"And leave Joe Chester behind?"
Ralph got off the chair that he had been torturing, and, putting his
hands deep in his pockets, paced to and fro.
"No, Ben; I'm a pretty mean lot, but I declare it's getting beyond my
depth. The next thing I shall go all under."
"And drag me too," added Ben, casting a sidelong glance at his friend.
"Yes, you too. I have been dragging you along in the same mire, until,
to accommodate me, you've got in about as deep as I have."
"Don't mind me, Drayton. It doesn't trouble me one bit," said Ben
carelessly. "My lies have all been in the cause of friendship. Come,
cheer up, old fellow. We'll both reform after this, and never again tell
lies."
"If I ever do tell another, I'll be a fool," said Ralph emphatically.
"It doesn't pay; besides, it is mean work."
"Yes, but what could you do? Confess to that job with the books? That
was enough to expel you; don't you know it was?"
"I don't care; that would be better than living a lie here day after
day, and seeing those eyes of Joe Chester's on me day and night. No,
sir! I'm not going to the island and leave him behind. You are
mistaken in me. I've got to the end of my rope."
Ben whistled dolefully; went and drummed a funeral march on the window;
then coming back, and dropping into a chair, rested his elbow on the
table, and his cheek on his hand, looking up meanwhile at his companion.
"What's the next thing on the bill of fare, then?"
"I'm going to cut," answered Ralph deliberately.
"What good will that do?"
"I'll leave a note for Bernard, confessing about the books, and then Joe
Chester can go. Even if the master did not get the note till after the
boat started, he would come back for Joe."
"Now, Ralph, if you do this I am set adrift too, you see. I have told
as many lies as you have, and if you tell on yourself it will come out
somehow,--that I know."
"No, it won't, Ben."
"It will, as sure as anything. Anyhow my courage is gone too. I don't
want to face Mr. Bernard and the other fellows. No, sir! I shall stick
by you. Give us your hand, old fellow. 'Sink or swim, live or die,
survive or perish,' we'll stick together. What's the use of a chum that
won't stick? Now, where shall we go? That's the question."
"That's the question," repeated Ralph, beginning to throw things into
his open trunk, to be left till called for, because he expected this was
to end his school-days at Massillon Academy.
"If we start off now on foot we shall be tracked, for Mr. Bernard will
not rest till he gets news of us."
"That's so. And if we wait and go by train in the morning, all the town
will know it. That will never do."
Both meditated a while, and then Ben said, waving an imaginary hat
around his head, "I tell you! Let's go over to the Cape and see if we
can't find a vessel bound out. Father sent me ten pounds for the camp
out, and we'll hire a passage."
"Agreed!--the very thing! What shall we want to take?"
"We will wear these school-suits, and pack up some rough clothes, our
blankets, and just about what we would take to camp, for we may have to
work our way to get the fellow to take us."
Ralph was about to throw his fishing-rod into the closet with his
foot-ball and base-ball, when he exclaimed, "Hold on; I will make my
will, and leave that rod in the hall for Joe Chester. Here, give me a
card! 'For Joe Chester.' There, that will please the little chap, and
let him know I remember him. Now I must write to Bernard. Where's my
portfolio? Oh, here. Well, now, what to say to him? That's a puzzler.
Shall I say anything about you, Ben?"
"I suppose you'll have to; but I am not anxious to be remembered to
him," was the laughing reply, as Ralph dipped his pen in the ink and
wrinkled his brow, trying to think of the proper thing to say. "Tell him
I'm just as bad as you are, and we thought we had both better get out
from such a high-toned crowd."
"Well, it is a good crowd, Ben--a splendid set of boys, take them all
together. You know it is. No; I am going to do the right thing, and
confess without any nonsense. He won't think me any meaner than I think
myself. I'll just say that you knew about it, and so thought you had
better go too."