Part 14 (1/2)

”I didn't have the first thing to do with that,” Marcy interposed. ”I didn't know about it until it was all over. If Bud wants revenge, let him thrash Rodney and d.i.c.k; but he'll have to thrash me too, while he is about it.”

”What's the matter with Rodney?” said Billings, in a low tone.

Rodney stood around listening but taking no part in the conversation, and every one noticed that he seemed ill at ease. When his name was mentioned, he turned about and left the tent very abruptly.

”He is so mad he dare not trust himself to speak,” said Billings. ”His face is as white as a sheet.”

”That underground railroad business isn't at the bottom of the matter at all,” continued Dixon. ”That proclamation in the post-office suggested an idea to some loon, who told Goble that this school needs looking after. I don't pretend to deny it. I say that every disunionist in it ought to be chucked out of the gate neck and heels; but it will take more men than that Committee of Safety and their paid spies can muster to do it.”

These sentiments were received with a howl of derision from some and enthusiastic cheers from the rest; but there was one point on which they were united: The man, or body of men, who attempted violence toward any of their number would surely suffer for it. There was one among them who had not looked for this condition of affairs, who was utterly confounded by it, and who would have given everything he possessed if he could have undone a certain piece of mischief he had perpetrated in Barrington the day before.

During the afternoon many of the students acted and felt as if they were to be called upon to perform some duty outside of the usual routine of school work. d.i.c.k Graham was not the only one among them who scouted the idea of an outbreak, while others honestly believed that such a thing was more than possible. It was even probable. There were a good many Union men round about, who were quite as fearless as the secessionists were, and who held to their opinions with as great tenacity, the negroes outnumbered the whites more than five to one, and what was there to hinder them from striking a blow for the freedom that would be sure to come to them if the people of the North made up their minds that secession ought to be resisted by force of arms? Might it not be possible that the townspeople were justified, after all, in calling that meeting; that they had some information that the boys knew nothing about, and that the lives and property of some of Barrington's ”prominent and respected citizens” might really be in jeopardy? If that was the case, and the students were ordered out to preserve order, which side would they support? Would they hang together, or would they split up into factions? Somehow the students did not like to dwell upon these questions, but dismissed them as soon they came into their minds.

When four o'clock was struck by the bell on the tower, the usual number of boys climbed the fence and set out for Barrington, and although they came back fully satisfied that there was something afoot, there was not one among them who had a word of news.

”The town looks as though it had been struck by a panic,” said Dixon. ”There was hardly anybody in the post-office, and the few people I saw on the streets looked as if they might be on their way to a funeral. I couldn't get a thing out of any man I saw, so I called on the Taylor girls, who told me the committee has positive evidence that there is to be an uprising among the negroes, led by such men as Elder Bowen. Of course that is all humbug. I don't believe in running, but I really think it would be pleasanter for the elder if he would sell out and go up to the United States. He's got Bud Goble down on him-”

”Did he and Bud have a squabble sure enough?”

”Naw. Bud got impudent and the elder took him by the neck and showed him the way to the gate. That's all there was of it. Of course there are a few who are mad about it, but the majority of the folks I talked with think Bud was served just right. I wish the colonel would call for volunteers to guard the elder's house of nights. I'd go for one.”

As usual there was nothing said to the guard runners, and neither was there another sham fight in the hall, the trouble over the flag having been settled for a few days at least. The students were very quiet that evening, and when d.i.c.k and Marcy went on post at eight o'clock, there were no indications of the hubbub and confusion that one of them was destined to create before he was relieved at midnight. d.i.c.k thought it a part of his duty to keep watch of the town as well as over a portion of the school grounds, and when he stopped to rest, he always turned his face toward Barrington. Once he thought he heard faint shouts, and a few minutes later he was sure he saw the first rays of the rising moon; but that could hardly be, for, if he remembered rightly, the almanac said there wasn't to be any moon that night.

”By gracious!” thought d.i.c.k. ”Can it be a fire?”

He glanced toward the archway to make sure that the corporal was not watching him, and then did a thing he had never done before in his life and was never guilty of afterward. He deserted his post. He opened the gate without causing the iron latch to click, and ran across the road until he came to the fence on the opposite side. This brought him out of range of a clump of trees that obstructed his vision at the gate, and also enabled him to look around the edge of the piece of woods behind which Marcy Gray was pacing his lonely beat. There was not only one fire, but there were two; and they were a mile or more apart.

”By gracious!” repeated d.i.c.k.

He pulled off his cap and felt of his hair to see if it was standing on end, and then hastened back to his post, closed the gate, and summoned the corporal of the guard.

”I was ordered to report anything that looked like a blaze,” said d.i.c.k, when the non-commissioned officer came up. ”Just cast your eye in that direction and tell me-”

”Great Scott!” exclaimed the corporal.

”See it, don't you?” said d.i.c.k. ”Well, now, look over that way, and tell me if there isn't another just breaking out.”

d.i.c.k pointed toward the woods, which were so thick that not the first glimmer of light could come through them, and although the corporal bent almost to the ground and twisted himself into all sorts of uncomfortable shapes, he was obliged to confess that he could not see anything that looked like a fire.

”I'm sure I saw it not more than a minute ago,” said d.i.c.k, who, of course, did not tell the corporal that he had been several yards from his post when he saw it. ”Perhaps if you go across the road you can get a view of it.”

The corporal went, and one look was enough to satisfy him. When he returned he was highly excited.

”The n.i.g.g.e.rs are at it, sure as you live,” said he. ”That's right in range of Mr. Riley's house.”

”Too far to the right for that,” replied the sentry. ”Looks to be more like Elder Bowen's.”

”It can't be,” exclaimed the corporal incredulously. ”The negroes wouldn't hurt him.”

”No; but the secessionists might.”