OFF FOR THE CAMP.
“The time to which this meeting was adjourned has arrived, gentlemen,
and you are requested to come to order,” said Tommy Toppleton, rapping
on the table with the gavel, which he had been careful to bring with
him.
“Mr. President,” said Barnscott, springing to his feet, with half a
dozen others, all anxious to make the first motion.
“Barnscott,” replied Tommy, giving him the floor.
“I move you we proceed to the choice of officers.”
“Second the motion,” added Putnam.
“It is moved and seconded that we proceed to the election of officers,”
repeated the president.
“Question! Question!” shouted the stockholders; for there was now no
difference of opinion on this point.
The motion was carried without opposition. I had intended to make a
little speech myself before any business was done. Indeed, it had been
arranged by Tommy and his father that I should do so; but Barnscott was
too quick for me.
“Mr. President,” I shouted, as soon as the vote was declared, “I have a
word to say to the stockholders, if you will allow me to speak directly
to them.”
“Go on! Go on!” yelled the students.
“Gentlemen, though what I have to say does not exactly belong to the
business on hand, I hope it won’t be taken amiss,” I began. “By the
vote of the stockholders this morning, the expenses of the supper to be
provided for the company at this hotel were to be paid for out of the
treasury of the corporation. It is well known that the company is in
debt, that the interest on its bonds has not been paid. The president,
therefore, in consultation with the munificent patron of the road, did
not think it right to use the funds of the company in paying for a
supper.”
“Are we to have no supper?” demanded Wetherstane.
“We are,” I replied, earnestly. “The liberality of the president of the
road is well known to all of you, and I have the pleasure of informing
you that he has decided to provide the supper at his own expense. It is
my pleasant privilege, therefore, to invite you, in behalf of President
Toppleton, to a supper at this hotel, after the adjournment. I wish the
stockholders especially to understand that this invitation is extended
by the president in his private capacity.”
Some applause followed my speech; but it was by no means as general and
hearty as I desired. It was an electioneering movement, and with this
invitation before them, I did not see how the stockholders could well
avoid reëlecting Tommy. I saw the leaders of the opposition looking
significantly at each other, as though they regarded my movement as
a diversion against their scheme. A committee to collect, count, and
declare the vote was appointed by the chair, and indorsed by the
meeting; and I had the honor to be one of the three.
During the voting, intense excitement prevailed in the hall. It was
a general jabber. As far as my duties would permit, I had been at
work for Tommy. I had used all my powers of persuasion to induce
certain large stockholders to vote for him; but, as fast as I made an
impression, it seemed to be removed by the opposition, and when the
meeting assembled I was not sure that I had converted a single share,
for each of which a vote was given. But Tommy was reasonably confident
of an election. He threw five hundred votes for himself to begin with,
as the representative of so many shares; and one more than the same
number, in addition, would elect him. If he could not get so many
votes, he was more unpopular than any of his friends suspected.
“Have all the stockholders voted?” shouted Tommy. “If so, I declare the
poll closed!”
The committee retired to sort and count the ballots, taking with us the
stock book, in order to detect any illegal voting. I do not think any
similar occasion among full-grown men excited more interest and anxiety
than this election. Tommy Toppleton was really on trial for insolence
and tyranny, and the result was to be his acquittal or conviction. We
counted the votes; and Faxon, who was the chairman, and a friend of the
president, led the way to the hall, with the result written on a piece
of paper in his hand.
“Order, gentlemen!” called Tommy; and his unsteady voice indicated the
anxiety with which he waited the issue. “You will listen to the report
of the committee.”
“Whole number of votes, two thousand,” read Faxon, while breathless
silence pervaded the hall. “Necessary to a choice, one thousand and
one. Thomas Toppleton has eight hundred and eighty-two;” and the
chairman read the rest of the names on the same ticket, who had nearly
all the vote. “Edward Skotchley has twelve hundred and eighteen.”
The chairman then declared that Edward Skotchley, and the others on
both tickets, except Tommy, were elected. Some faint applause followed
the announcement; but most of the students appeared to be appalled at
what they had done. The president’s face was as red as a blood beet,
and I expected his wrath would boil over. Even the supper had not
saved him, and certainly it was a hard case. I was sorry for him, while
I could not approve of his haughty and overbearing manner. I went up to
the desk with the intention of giving him what I considered good advice.
“Don’t get mad, Tommy,” said I, in a low voice, but so that he could
hear me.
“It’s an insult,” added he, between his closed teeth.
“Never mind if it is. Don’t let them see that they are punishing you,”
I added.
This last remark of mine had the desired effect; and, to my
astonishment, he smiled as blandly as though nothing had happened.
He did not relish the idea of letting his enemies triumph over him,
and though he now looked like peace itself, I was satisfied that the
punishment of the rebels was reserved for another occasion.
“Mr. President!”
Both Tommy and myself looked to see who had the audacity to break
the impressive silence that still reigned in the hall. It was
Skotchley--Edward the Silent, as he was often called, on account of his
quiet way.
“Skotchley,” said Tommy, who, though he did not regard his successful
rival very favorably, was hypocrite enough to smile sweetly upon him.
“Mr. President, I wish to say that my name was used without my
knowledge or consent. I voted for the old board myself, and am so
well satisfied with the president, that, even if I considered myself
qualified for the position,--which I do not,--I could not accept it.”
“Toady!” snuffed some of the students.
Skotchley glanced at the knot of stockholders from whom the offensive
word had come. The quiet dignity of his manner silenced them.
“Under no circumstances could I, or would I, accept this office,” added
Skotchley, as he seated himself, amid the applause of Tommy’s friends.
The speaker was not excused; but he adhered to his purpose, and the
students were obliged to ballot again. Tommy’s singular conduct in not
getting mad made a sensation. The students could not comprehend it.
While the second ballot was in progress, he sat at the table, cool
and smiling. I am satisfied it was this conduct alone which created
a reaction in his favor; for on the second ballot he was elected by
a majority of one hundred and eleven. He accepted the position, and
thanked the stockholders for their continued favor, as coolly as though
nothing had occurred to disturb the current of his thoughts.
The present incumbents of the other elective offices were chosen
without opposition, and the flurry was over; but it was clear enough,
if Tommy did not mend his ways, he would never be elected again. The
affairs of the railroad were finished, and those of the battalion
were taken up. Tommy was chosen major by a small majority, and the
other officers were elected. The location of the encampment caused
considerable discussion. Those who had been the leaders of the
opposition in the railroad company were in favor of pitching the tents
on the Horse Shoe, an island on the lake, opposite Grass Springs, and
two miles from the west shore.
Tommy’s party advocated the Sandy Bay Grove, because the railroad
passed near it. They urged that the Wimpletonians usually encamped on
the Horse Shoe. One of the other side was bold enough to say that
was the reason why he wished to go there. I do not know how long the
discussion would have lasted if the landlord of the hotel had not given
the president a broad hint that the supper was ready. This brought the
matter to a crisis, and when the vote was taken, there was a large
majority in favor of the Horse Shoe. A committee was appointed to wait
upon the owner of the island, who was a resident of Grass Springs.
The landlord of the hotel did justice to himself, and to the great
occasion with which his house had been honored. Tommy sat at the head
of the middle table, and presided with dignity and discretion. Some
very good speeches were made, for boys, and the festival was a decided
success. I left the table before the party broke up, in order to have
the locomotive ready for the return. At six o’clock we started. Faxon
informed me that the Horse Shoe had been engaged for the encampment,
and that the sum of ten dollars was to be paid for the use of the
island.
“But I can tell you one thing, Wolf. There will be one of the jolliest
rows over there that you ever heard of,” added Faxon.
“I hope not.”
“The Wimpleton fellows were going there; and if there isn’t a fight
before the week is out, I never will guess again.”
“Well, do our fellows know it?” I asked.
“Know it!” exclaimed Faxon. “Of course they do, and that is the
particular reason why they want to go there.”
“Have the Wimps engaged the island?”
“No; there is where we have the start of them. They have always used it
without leave or license.”
It did look like an exciting time for the next week. As soon as
Tommy Toppleton understood the reason why his battalion had selected
the Horse Shoe, he joined heartily with them; for no one hated the
Wimpletonians more thoroughly than he did. He entered heart and soul
into the project, and issued his order for the march at seven o’clock
on Monday morning, so as to reach the island before the enemy could
take possession of it. I was directed to have the train ready at that
hour.
Though it was rather late when we arrived, the boys went to work in
making the preparations for the camp, and before they retired, the
tents, baggage, and cooking utensils were loaded upon one of the
platform cars. Neither the major nor the principal opposed the plan,
and at the appointed time on Monday morning, I had the train drawn up
on the road at a convenient point near the Institute, ready to furnish
the “transportation” for the battalion.
Major Tommy, intent upon being ahead of the enemy on the other side of
the lake, was on time with his force. The battalion was to be reviewed
by the principal of the Institute before its departure, and the two
companies marched by the train, on their way to the green where the
ceremony was to take place. As they passed me, I saluted them with the
steam whistle, and in return the warlike heroes cheered the train. I
witnessed the impressive formalities of the review, and having moved
the cars forward, I heard the speech of the principal at the close of
the performance.
The students then entered the cars. I gave a tremendous whistle, and
off we went, the students, true to their noisy natures, yelling like
madmen. As we moved on, we discovered a fleet of boats, loaded with
Wimpletonians, sailing down the lake.
[Illustration: THE TOPPLETON BATTALION.--Page 55.]