SOMETHING THAT HAPPENED ON SHORE.
Oscar Chester was not killed, or even very seriously injured. The last
blow of Dory had been planted in a sensitive place, and he had been
stunned by it. His companions gathered around him, lifted him up, and
procured some water from the Fouquet Hotel, with which they washed his
head. In a few minutes his senses came back to him, and he was able to
comprehend the situation.
Dory had been hit several times; but he was a tough youngster, and
seemed to be none the worse for the battle. As he viewed the matter,
he had simply defended himself, according to the first law of nature.
He had done his best beforehand to avoid the fight, and had proposed
to talk the matter over in order to ascertain who was to blame.
“That was an awful crack you gave him at the end,” said Fireman
Bolingbroke Millweed, joining Dory, who stood alone on the grass. “I
didn’t know that you were such a hard hitter.”
“I did not know it myself,” replied Dory, wiping the perspiration from
his brow. “I am not a fighting character, and I never struck a blow in
my life except in self-defence.”
“I think Chester has got enough of it,” added the fireman.
“I don’t know about that. He acts to me as though he was crazy. It
would be just like him to pitch into me again as soon as he feels able
to do so. I am sure I don’t want to quarrel with him, especially as he
is to be in the pilot-house with me. If I have done any thing out of
the way, I am willing to beg his pardon; but he wouldn’t even talk
with me about his grudge against me.”
“I saw the whole of it, and heard all that was said. I am sure you are
not to blame,” added Bolingbroke. “But I was glad to see you knock him
out after he was so unreasonable.”
“You were in the boat last night when the trouble began, and I hope
you will be able to remember what passed between Oscar and me; for,
after this, my uncle will be very likely to investigate the case.”
“I remember all about it. Oscar wanted to steer the boat, and you
objected. When he got up from his seat,--to take the helm, I
suppose,--you told him to sit down; and you spoke rather sharply. Then
the boat gave a lurch, and he went overboard. If it hadn’t been for
you, Dory, he would have been drowned as sure as fate,” replied
Bolingbroke, rehearsing the facts precisely as they were.
“I am ready to face the music, and if I have done any thing wrong I
shall be glad to apologize for it. In this fight, I only defended
myself, as I think every fellow ought to do.”
“How are you, Dory?”
The pilot looked around, and saw Mr. Peppers, a constable of
Plattsburgh, who sometimes did detective work. He had sailed down the
lake with Dory in the Goldwing a few weeks before, and Peppers had a
strong regard for the skipper.
“I am glad to see you, Mr. Peppers,” replied Dory, shaking hands with
the detective.
“You have settled that fellow so that he won’t want any more of your
love-pats,” replied Peppers, laughing. “I saw the whole of it, and it
was handsomely done.”
“I merely defended myself. He pitched into me, and I could not help
myself,” answered the pilot in the language and tone of apology; for
he did not want any one to think that he ever engaged in a voluntary
fight.
“I know it: I saw the whole of it. You were trying to talk with him
when he rushed upon you,” added Peppers.
By this time Oscar Chester appeared to have recovered from the heavy
blows of his brother pilot. He and Will Orwell walked up the street
towards the town. The excitement was all over, and the other pupils
scattered. Peppers followed Chester. Dory was doubtful what to do. At
first he thought of going on board of the Sylph, and reporting the
battle to his uncle.
After a little consideration, and some talk with Bolingbroke about it,
he decided not to do so. He was ready to answer to any charge that
might be brought against him, and it would be time enough to defend
himself when he was accused. He called at the Witherill House, had a
chat with the landlord and the clerk, and then returned to the wharf.
By this time most of the boys had seen all they wanted to of the town,
and were ready to go on board. Captain Gildrock had come on shore, and
had just gone on board with the two Plattsburgh boys who were to join
the school.
Bates was in charge of the boats; and, as soon as the crew of one of
them appeared, he sent one load on board. The principal was
instructing the two new hands, who had already put on the uniform. One
was a steward, and the other belonged to the port watch.
At a little after three o’clock the other boat came off, and the
students rushed up the accommodation steps as though they enjoyed the
steamer and the lake more than the town. George Duane, the new
steward, was handed over to Bob Swanton, after a proper introduction;
and they retired to the forward cabin.
“Have all hands come on board?” asked Captain Gildrock.
The boys looked about them, as though they were unable to answer the
question.
“You don’t know: well, we can soon ascertain by calling the roll,”
added the principal, as he took the list of students from his pocket.
“Mr. Glovering.”
“Here sir,” replied the first officer in the midst of the laughter of
the boys when they heard the handle applied to his name.
“Mr. Orwell.”
“Here, sir.”
“Mr. Dornwood.”
“Here, sir.”
“Mr. Chester.”
There was no response to this name, and it was repeated. There was no
answer.
“Is the second pilot on board?” asked Captain Gildrock; and Dory
wondered if he knew any thing about the second battle of Plattsburgh.
The first and second officers looked about the deck and into the
cabins for the missing pilot, but he could not be found. A more
thorough search was made by all hands, and it was soon evident that
“Mr. Chester” was not on board. The captain finished the call of the
roll, and made no remark in regard to the disappearance of the second
pilot. He directed the first officer to get up the anchor.
It looked as though Oscar Chester had absconded, notwithstanding his
good conduct during the forenoon. Possibly some of the boys,
especially Will Orwell, knew something about the matter; but they did
not volunteer to give any information, and the principal did not ask
for any. He said nothing at all, in fact, about the missing student.
The captain did not appear to be in the least degree disturbed by the
absence of the refractory pupil.
Captain Gildrock looked on while the crew walked around the capstan.
The officers had learned their lesson well; and, for a first trial,
the operation of getting up the anchor was handsomely done.
The first pilot was at his post; and, as soon as “anchor aweigh” was
reported to him, he rang the gong. Mr. Jepson stood on deck, near the
door of the engine-room, having stationed his first assistant at the
machine. He opened the valve slowly, and the thumping of the screw was
immediately heard.
Captain Gildrock had gone to the hurricane deck, where he could see
all that was done in the pilot-house and on the forecastle. He cast
occasional glances at the wharf, and he directed Dory to run in that
direction. Then he called the first officer, and told him to get ready
to make a landing.
Dory ran the Sylph up to the wharf, where she was secured by the
enthusiastic crew. The portion of the bulwark at the starboard gangway
was removed, and the plank run out. While Mr. Glovering was wondering
who was going on shore, Oscar Chester stepped out of the building on
the wharf, and walked on board as coolly as though nothing had
happened to disturb his equanimity.
“Haul in the plank!” called the captain. “Cast off, Dory.”
The pilot on duty blew a sharp whistle, which was the signal to cast
off the fasts; and the officers below attended to this duty. The Sylph
backed out from the wharf, and then went ahead, the engine being
wholly managed by Corny Minkfield. Oscar Chester went directly to the
hurricane deck, and was about to enter the pilot-house, when he was
confronted by Captain Gildrock.
“You are late, Mr. Chester,” said the principal.
“I came on board against my will, sir. In fact, I was brought down to
the wharf,” replied Oscar.
“Indeed? Who brought you to the wharf?” asked the captain with a
half-suppressed chuckle.
“I wasn’t introduced to him, but he said he was a constable.”
“You ought to have been introduced to him,” laughed the captain. “I
can’t go through the ceremony now, because the constable is not here;
but his name is Peppers. Dory knows him, and he will introduce you if
I don’t happen to be present when you meet again. Am I to understand
from what you say that you did not intend to return to the steamer?”
“I did not intend to return: on the contrary, I meant to run away; for
I suppose that is what you would call it,” replied Oscar.
“If I remember rightly, you promised this morning to behave as well as
you knew how, if I released you from the brig,” added the captain.
“I meant what I said at the time, and intended to keep my promise; but
something happened on shore that prevented me from doing so,” replied
Oscar rather sheepishly for him.
“What is the matter with your face, Mr. Chester? Your nose is swelled,
and you have a mouse under each eye. I should say that both of your
eyes would be in mourning for the next week,” added Captain Gildrock.
“The black eyes are in consequence of something that happened on shore,”
answered the second pilot.
“What was that?”
“Excuse me, sir: if you will ask Dory, he can tell the story better
than I can,” replied Oscar, glancing at the pilot at the wheel.
This conversation took place at the door of the pilot-house, and Dory
could not help hearing all that was said; and if he looked behind him
he could see the parties.
“I prefer that you should tell your own story,” added the principal
rather sternly. “My business just now is with you and not with Dory.”
“To make a short story of it, sir, I attempted to thrash Dory, and I
got thrashed myself,” answered the culprit.
“Served you right!” exclaimed the captain. “Have you settled the
matter finally?”
“It seems to have settled itself, sir. I had no doubt I could whip
Dory as easily as I could turn my hand. I never met one of these
proper fellows before that I could not whip, and without the least
difficulty. I am satisfied now that he can whip me every time, and
that settles the matter.”
“I should say that you judge yourself and Dory by a very mean and
cowardly standard. But if you are satisfied, nobody else need complain
this time. Return to your duty, Mr. Chester.”
Oscar went to the wheel, and did not seem to have any delicacy about
meeting Dory.