From School to Battle-field Part 16

Major Stark and Snipe glanced quickly at each other, and then the former spoke. "Pardon me, general; that was the name of the cavalry lieutenant captured by Corporal Lawton, here, just before Bull Run. Is this another Grayson?" he asked of the prisoner.

"No. You asked our captain's name. He was wounded and has not rejoined yet. That's our first lieutenant." And then, as though to emphasize his disgust at being bored by "mudsill" questions, the young gallant languidly yawned; then, thrusting his hand into the breast of his jaunty trooper jacket, with admirable a.s.sumption of supreme indifference to his surroundings, he drew forth a fine watch, coolly stepped to the fire, held it so that the light would shine upon its face, and then was about returning it, when the irrepressible Shorty sprang forward into the fire-lit circle.

"Where'd you get that watch?" he cried. "Look, Snipe! General! It was stolen at school last fall! It's Joy's!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Where'd you get that watch?"]

CHAPTER XXV.

The week that followed was one not soon to be forgotten by two at least of Pop's old boys. To begin with, after all the wear and tear and exposure of the month, it was several days before Major Stark, with his gallant companions, was able to go into Washington. He lay in a big tent close to brigade head-quarters, the guest of the general and the object of a.s.siduous attentions from high officials, accomplished surgeons, and enthusiastic soldiers, Snipe and Keating coming in for many a word of praise and promise of advancement and reward. Even the great President, accompanied by Secretary Seward, drove out in his carriage and visited the invalid New-Englander and listened to his story, and sent for Sergeant Keating and the "two boys." He wanted to see that queerly a.s.sorted team, said he, and whimsically remarked, after looking them over, with a smile for both and a hearty shake of the hand, "Well, the long and short of it is, you're both bound to be soldiers, I see.

Perhaps we can help."

Keating, promptly commissioned a lieutenant in the Second Fire Zouaves, was ordered to join that command. Stark, as soon as he was able to move with comfort, was to go home and accept the colonelcy of a new regiment awaiting him in its camp, Snipe with him. But meantime Mr. and Mrs. Park had reached the capital, and had been driven out to Chain Bridge, where the fond mother had a very warm reception from all who by this time had heard Snipe's school story (and who that got within hail of Shorty any day that week had failed to hear it?) and the grim step-father a correspondingly cool one. Park had borne more than his share of worry and woe for long months past, and as means to the end, had come with the cool determination of making George an offer, either to put him through college with a fair allowance, or start him in business at Rhinebeck, for Park had been in correspondence with the Doctor and with Halsey, and had reluctantly come to the conclusion that the boy couldn't have been the thief he thought, though of course he was an ingrate and lacking in appreciation. But Park found that step-parental authority was not recognized in the army. The boy himself was bent on following the fortunes of his soldier friends. Major Stark had told the mother of his own plans and the President's promises with regard to her son, and the fond mother, proud, yet full of fears, yielded to the wishes of her boy and the advice of his comrades, and decided against those of her lord and master. Park found the atmosphere of the camp uncongenial. It chilled him like a channel fog, and he left for home, and pressing business, within another day, while Mrs. Park remained. There were other sympathetic women there, wives of officers visiting in camp, and she did not lack for friends.

But for Snipe and Shorty there came a day of thrilling interest when Captain Beach, of the "First Long Island," together with Keating and Desmond, of the Zouaves, met at the provost-marshal's in Washington, and what a meeting it was! The story of the school-boy days had been told the general, who listened with vivid interest. It was he who planned further movements and arranged the necessary preliminaries at the War Department. Among the few Confederate prisoners in the city at the time were young Grayson, captured as a lieutenant just before Bull Run, and Spottswood, captured as sergeant the night of the rescue in front of Chain Bridge, both of the Virginia cavalry. The latter had wrathfully declined to surrender the watch claimed by Shorty to be stolen property (those were the earliest--the callow--days of the war, when the wishes of prisoners as to their personal property were occasionally respected), and a tremendous scene had ensued. But within three days there appeared at Washington two young gentlemen, Pop's boys, sent thither in response to telegraphic inquiries,--Messrs. Paul Grayson and Clinton Joy,--and they had been taken to the Capitol prison by Captain Winthrop, a former Pop boy, and there had been an interview between the cousins, Northern and Southern; then, a conference between Grayson the Confederate and his b.u.mptious statesman, and then Mr. Spottswood very gracefully surrendered the watch, which Mr. Joy positively and conclusively identified as his own, notwithstanding the obliteration of the name, and Spottswood told how it came into his possession. He had spent some time the previous winter and spring in Mobile, Savannah, and Charleston, had seen a good deal of two young--gentlemen--and he used the word with hesitation--from New York, two brothers by the name of Hulker. There had grown up something of an intimacy. They had money in abundance at first, but finally seemed to run out, and they had to "baw-wo," said Mr.

Spottswood, with a blush, from their friends. In fact, they had "baw-woed" so much from friends to whom he had presented them that he felt in honor bound to make it good, and as the young men had to get out of the South in a hurry in May, and he had become suspicious as to their solvency, he had felt compelled, he said it regretfully, to demand some security, and they had left with him diamonds and this watch. The diamonds were at his home in Richmond. The watch he unhesitatingly turned over, as became a gentleman, to its proper owner. When Lieutenant Grayson was told that all this was necessary to clear the good name of the young scholar soldier who had captured him, you can imagine his interest in the case was by no means diminished.

This matter settled, and a joyous meeting having taken place between the four schoolmates, Captains Beach and Winthrop, brother officers now and ex-Columbiads, affably supervising, the next thing was to follow up the trail of Desmond's statements to Shorty, and this duty was intrusted to Keating. An odd feature with the old fire department was the alliance, offensive and defensive, which existed among certain companies, in contradistinction to the bitter rivalries which were inevitable. In the long-continued feud between Big Six and Manhattan Eight whole communities were involved. Political societies and clubs took sides with one or the other, and rows innumerable went on for years. Downtown companies, generally at odds with their neighbors, swore eternal friendship with some up-town organization which "ran" in lower districts. Marion 9 and Lady Washington 40 "lay" within three blocks of each other in the lower Fifth Fire District, but did duty, the former in the Fourth and Fifth, the latter in the Sixth and Seventh; turning out, of course, for all fires within a few blocks of their respective stations; and these two companies were on terms of very distant and dignified reserve. Away up-town, in like manner, were Lexington 7 and Pacific 28, both of which answered alarms from the Fifth District, both of which ran down Third Avenue to the Bowery in so doing, and as a consequence, time and again met and raced every inch of the way. The long run from Twenty-seventh Street to the Cooper Inst.i.tute or beyond would almost exhaust their own men, but by the time they got far down-town there were swarms of allies to man the drag-ropes, 9's men with No. 7, 40's lively lads with 28, and, counting on this old alliance, Keating called on Desmond to redeem his promise to Shorty and tell what he knew about the school or its scholars, and Desmond's story was what boys of a later generation would have called "a corker."

He used to be hard up himself, he said, and more than once had had to "spout" his watch, and several times in other ways to raise money at a p.a.w.nbroker's, and there were some young fellows, whom he had twice encountered there, regular young Fifth Avenue swells, and one night while he was in a stall at the counter, he heard two of them come into an adjoining box, and they had a beautiful gold watch on which they wished to make a raise. He could not see it even by leaning away forward, for the part.i.tion prevented, but he could hear distinctly all the talk. The p.a.w.nbroker didn't want to take it. He said he was afraid.

He knew both the "young fellers;" they'd often been there before, and he knew that watch didn't belong to either of the two. They swore, however, that it belonged to a friend in their set who didn't wish to be known, but had to have money that very night, and, "why, that watch must have been worth over three hundred dollars!" It was a beautiful thing, they said, and all they wanted was fifty; their friend would redeem it the very next week and pay high. They were so earnest about it that Desmond forgot his own troubles in listening to theirs. At last they got some thirty or forty dollars and left in a hurry. Desmond looked after them.

Both wore fur caps pulled down over their ears, and coat-collars up almost hiding their heads, although it was quite early in the fall, and, though a raw east wind was blowing and a rain pouring, it was not cold enough for such attire. Outside the shop they were joined by others who were in waiting, three of them, and they scooted back toward the west in a hurry. Not two months afterwards Desmond was there again, and a big, smooth-faced, smug-looking fellow came in, with his head all bundled up, and he had the p.a.w.n ticket for that very watch, Desmond knew by the talk; and the p.a.w.nbroker had some words with the fellow because he tried to get it back for less by a good deal than the young men agreed to pay, and both got mad and abused each other, and each said he could send the other to jail. It was fun to hear them, said Desmond, and he wondered who the big man could be, and followed him out and saw him meet the same two "young fellers" that were there before. The big man took off his hat and wiped his face, he was "so blown with jawing," and Desmond said he had a good long look at him, and would know him again anywhere.

Now he was sure he had seen some of those young fellers with the school crowd that used to be up at Duncan's every day for luncheon, and in the "Shanghai" set that ran with Metamora Hose. But from that time they quit going to that p.a.w.nshop. The owner told him the police came round there looking for that very watch, and he was glad he was rid of them, and of that "big, smug-faced feller," too. He felt sure he was a thief. As for the boys, the broker said two of them had been there time and again before, and they were a hard lot. "Would you know the two if you were to see them again?" Keating asked the Zouave.

"I didn't see them, plainly. I couldn't, they were wrapped up so, but I could hear them plain, and I'd know their voices among a million."

All this having been duly reported, and Beach, Winthrop, and one or two senior officers having been in consultation, this strange meeting was decided upon, and, not knowing why they were bidden, Snipe and Shorty found themselves one bright September morning in the anteroom of the provost-marshal's office. Beach and Winthrop were already there. It was just one week after the arrest of the general's orderly by the patrol and his incarceration by order of the lieutenant of the guard. There was a moment of greeting and quiet chat. Then the boys were shown into a side room, and there sat Keating and Desmond. Beach called to the latter. "I wish you to sit here with me close to the door and listen to every word spoken in the office during the next five minutes." Then he, too, seated himself. There was silence a moment or two, then a low-toned conference between the provost-marshal and Winthrop, and presently a door opened, a somewhat unsteady, clinking step was heard, and then a voice, at sound of which Snipe and Shorty started and looked into each other's faces, while Beach sat watching Desmond.

"Did you wish to see me, sir?"

The speaker was invisible, but there was no mistaking the voice, with its odd, jerky, nervous accent.

"Yes, sir. I have been called upon to explain why the guard held a bearer of despatches and an important message last week. You were officer of the guard at the time. What have you to say?"

"Why--major--I don't know much about it. The men said they ordered him to stop all the way for half a mile, and he defied 'em. He--was all covered with dirt and looked like some common volunteer drummer-boy out on a drunk. I didn't suppose any general would trust despatches to--anybody like that. I thought he was lyin'."

"In point of fact, sir," interposed the provost-marshal, "did you not recognize the messenger and have reason to know that his story was true?

Did you not order him to the cells, refusing to listen?"

"P'r'aps I did, and just because I _did_ know him to be a no-account little ragam.u.f.fin that used to be runnin' round with the firemen and such like----"

Sir Toby Belch listening from ambush to Malvolio's soliloquy at his expense could not have looked more amazed and wrathful than did Shorty at this. Beach, unable to repress a grin, suppressed him with a gesture.

"You may retire, Mr. Hoover. Remain at the guard-room. I may want you in a moment."

And then the party was summoned from its concealment, and then all eyes were on Desmond, and Winthrop propounded this question:

"Well, did you recognize any voice?"

"That young feller's--that was in here just now? I couldn't see him through the screen, but I never heard his voice before in all me life."

And this ended the first lesson. But there were others to come, for the Doctor and Beach had been in rapid correspondence, and when three days later still Major Stark, a celebrity now whom Gotham was eager to honor, arrived at the Cortlandt Street ferry, faithful Snipe still at his side, and Lieutenant Keating, furloughed that he, too, might be lionized, there accompanied them the little corporal of Zouaves, Desmond, late of "28's Engine."

Aunt Lawrence, with her carriage, was at the ferry, effusive in her regrets that Colonel Stark had to go on at once, but grateful that he could permit George to remain, for nothing would answer but that dear, brave George must spend a few days under her roof before reporting at the camp of his new regiment. And with Aunt Lawrence, obsequious, smug, a.s.siduous in his attentions to Mahster George, loading up with Mahster George's light luggage, and bowing low in homage to Mahster George's distinguished commander, as that gallant officer was driven away, was Aunt Lawrence's most expensive household luxury, the English butler, and as that dignitary closed the door of the Lawrence carriage and lifted his hat and wiped his glowing face, and then waddled pompously off in quest of a horse-car, Desmond grabbed his officer by the arm. "There's the Shanghai that got the watch and jawed the p.a.w.nbroker and ran with that gang of young fellers," said he. And only another day and Aunt Lawrence's butler marched away in the grip of the law, and Aunt Lawrence's house-maid lay screaming in simulated hysterics.

A precious pair were these, as events and detectives speedily disclosed, and words can hardly describe the shame and horror with which Aunt Lawrence presently realized that, to divert suspicion from themselves, her own domestics had found means of attaching it to George. Their stealings had as yet been confined to old-fashioned trinkets and jewelry, which she seldom looked at and the loss of which would not soon be discovered. It was not the jewels, but the good name the servitor had stolen, that now arrayed all the household against him and his unhappy victim, the damsel who so neglected George's room and linen. Binny, the butler, went to the police station without a chance to caution her, so she went to the priest, and one confession led to another. The girl was Irish and had a conscience or compunctions, and returning to her mistress, threw herself at her feet, and sobbed out her story. Binny had her completely in his power, or made her think he had. It was he who compelled her to take the cameo and other jewelry from time to time, and who planned more extensive raids to follow. It was he to whom she surrendered Seymour's gold pencil-case, which she found on the floor of Mahster George's room, but stoutly she declared, when questioned by Mrs.

Lawrence, that of Joy's beautiful watch she had never even heard.

And this was more than Binny could say when confronted by Desmond, the p.a.w.nbroker, and certain members of the police force who had had an eye on him, especially when within twenty-four hours of his incarceration there was landed in the neighboring cell the person of Mr. Briggs, late of the First Latin, but no longer on the rolls of Columbia. Others, long since fathomed as to character by Pop, were under the watchful eye of "the force," and Messrs. Brodrick and the Hulkers, both, betook themselves to summer resorts, despite the fact that the tide of fashion was turning back from the sea-sh.o.r.e and the mountains. Then Briggs the elder, a broken-down politician and former office-holder, was sent for and closeted with the Doctor, Halsey, Hoover senior, Martigny, and the detective, with the result that within an hour Briggs junior was summoned into the presence of the same tribunal, and then his last remaining trace of nerve gave way.

Even then he lied, shifted, dodged, accused, but one after another his lies were met and overthrown, and at last the miserable story came out in driblets, but the chain was complete. To raise small sums he had begun selling books, sometimes from his father's scant stock, then from other boys' fathers. Binny, on some similar errand bent, had twice encountered him and recognized him as the young "fellar" that used to come to see Mahster George, and bolt up to his room even when the lad was out. Binny found that discovery worth working. He gave Briggs a bracelet, once worn by "me sainted wife, now in 'eaven," but Binny said he was in need of funds and must dispose of it, and wouldn't mind giving Mahster Briggs something "'ansom'" out of what he could get for it. Then Binny had Briggs "by the hair," so to speak, and held him for future service. Hoover, too, and the Hulkers, had used him as a cat's-paw. They loaned him money, and then when he could not repay, demanded service in kind. Then the Hulkers themselves were emboldened to try their luck at the p.a.w.nbroker's, and by going only at night--and generally stormy nights--they managed to keep their ident.i.ty concealed. Briggs was dreadfully in debt to both Hoover and the Hulkers when one day in the early fall the First Latin indulged in one of its famous charges.

Briggs, crushed against the bookcase, and making as much noise as anybody, was one of the last to quit the spot. Joy's beautiful watch caught his eye, dangling at the end of its chain, as the cla.s.s was disentangling, and a quick jerk transferred it to his capacious pocket.

He swore he never meant to keep it. He only wanted to "have some fun with Joy," and to prove it, he said, he ran round to Brodrick's stable and told him and the Hulkers all about it, and left it with the Hulkers for safe-keeping, and that night they p.a.w.ned it. He didn't dare report it, for they could tell far worse things about him than he could about them, but all were scared when they heard of the Doctor's vigorous measures, and not daring to return for it themselves, Briggs bethought him of Binny, and between them they raised the money necessary to redeem it and sent him, Binny, as their emissary. Then the Hulkers hid it somewhere, and the next thing Briggs knew Binny, and the Hulkers, too, were demanding tribute of him. Briggs vowed he was horrified when he found that Snipe was suspected and accused; he always liked Snipe, Hoover wouldn't lend him another cent, and he was at his wit's end where to raise the money to meet their demands and forestall the threatened exposure, when quarter day and the fire came. He saw his opportunity when Halsey left the desk unguarded, and ran and scooped some gold out of the drawer, poked some of the pieces in his trousers, some in his waistcoat, and some in his overcoat-pocket when at the rack. If he poked any in Shorty's, which hung next to his, it was all a mistake. He wouldn't have done that for the world, he said, and then, as he daren't be found with the money, he gave most of it to the Hulkers, as before, "for safe-keeping" and to square accounts, and that was about all poor Briggs's inquisitors cared to know. A warrant went out for Brodrick, who managed to precede it to Montreal, but the Hulkers were quietly apprehended and escorted back to Gotham. And here ended the last of the cabal against Snipe. Now came the reaction.

One glorious day in late September the old First Latin rea.s.sembled in strong force at the old school, the occasion being a flag-raising. There they were, the same glad-hearted lot of boys that had made merry in the old school-room many and many a day, Hoover and Briggs being conspicuous by their absence. "Regimental duties," wrote the father of the former, would prevent his son's attendance on the auspicious occasion, whereat the Doctor winked over his spectacles at the grinning array of listeners, and "other engagements," it was casually mentioned, would account for the non-appearance of Briggs. At the usual hour of recess the whole school, Cla.s.sical and English departments both, had cl.u.s.tered about two young fellows in martial uniform, Snipe Lawton, brown-eyed, blushing and shy, towering over most of them in stature, arrayed in the trim-fitting frock-coat and complete uniform of a first lieutenant of infantry, and Shorty, full to the brim of mingled pride and delight, wearing the garb of the famous Zouave regiment to which he had been attached, even while being, by order, as he not infrequently remarked, on detached duty at brigade head-quarters. This was emphatically Snipe's benefit, however, and no one begrudged it to him less than did his old chum. A little after noon a burst of martial music was heard far up the avenue, and the majestic Doctor waved his thronging boys to their posts, and down the stairs they tumbled, tumultuous, and "lined up," six deep, on the opposite curb. And then, led by a capital band, a great regiment in full marching order, with knapsacks packed and overcoats rolled, came striding down the west side of the broad thoroughfare in column of fours, and a soldierly-looking colonel reined out as they reached the school, and let the right wing, five strong companies, go swinging by until the beautiful silken colors, national and State, were directly opposite the window, where in immaculate broadcloth and immense dignity stood the Doctor, a brand-new bunting flag on his arm, Snipe, with the "down haul" halliard on his right, Shorty, with the slack, on his left.

Then the colonel's powerful voice rang out along the thronging street, "Battalio-o-n-n-n halt! Front!" and the whole regiment, at least a thousand strong, stood motionless facing the east. Then the band was drawn up in front of the right centre company, and at a signal, struck up the grand strains of the "Star-Spangled Banner." "Present arms!"

shouted Colonel Stark, then reined his horse about and lowered his glistening sword in salute. The school and the great crowd set up a stupendous cheer. The Doctor beamed and waved his white cambric handkerchief. Halsey and Meeker and other masters smiled from the windows. Snipe hauled away with might and main, Shorty paid out, and the beautiful folds of blue and scarlet and dazzling white went sailing slowly aloft until they touched the peak of the tall white staff at the top of the building. Then the Doctor shook hands with Snipe again and again and put his hand on his shoulder and waved to the crowd as though he would say "Cheer for Lawton," and cheer they did, and presently that cheer swelled into a l.u.s.ty-lunged roar, for the colonel gave the command shoulder and order arms, magnificently executed, followed by "Rest!"

which gave the regiment leave to make itself heard, and never before had Fourth Avenue rung to such acclaim.

Then Snipe shook hands with his old teachers again, poor, pallid Meeker's eyes filling with tears, and with John, the janitor, who grinned and writhed in ecstasy. Then he and Shorty came bounding down the stairs, and another shout went up from the school, and something like a sob rose in Shorty's throat as Lawton drew for the first time his beautiful sword, the gift of all the cla.s.ses, and, throwing his left arm about the "little 'un's" neck, held him in close hug one second, then bounded away to the post of the adjutant, his eyes too full to look back, his heart too full to speak. Once more the great regiment sprang into column of fours, the arms snapped up to the right shoulder, the band broke into a magnificent swinging quickstep, and the Fourth New England strode st.u.r.dily away to make its mark on many a field, its boy adjutant marching at the head of column. Many a long block it went before the last of Pop's boys dropped off and turned back, only to find that half-holiday had been declared in honor of the event of the day.

Snipe and Shorty, big Damon and little Pythias, Mr. Lincoln's "long and short of it," had seen the last of the old school and school-days, with all their fun and frolic and their sad and solemn memories. The old First Latin went on to collegiate days minus its soldier boys and the little lamented Briggs. After all, there was aroused a bit of sympathy for him when the Hulkers were bought off in some mysterious way and never appeared for trial, when Brodrick was heard of as "living high" in Canada, and only the detestable butler was left to share the punishment with the rapscallion of the cla.s.s. Some boys thought Hoover was so low that "even if he didn't steal he put Briggs up to it," and the school was furious at the thought of his being an officer in the regular army.

It did poor Hoover little good, however. His regiment was soon taken from the comforts of Washington and sent campaigning, and three days'

marching through Virginia dust proved more than the poor fellow could stand. He broke down on the eve of battle, had to be sent to the rear in an ambulance, and the regiment said he would be wise to resign: so for once wisdom and Hoover worked together. John, the janitor, lived to tell many a wonderful tale of the times they had when the First Latin had such "fellers" in it as Lawton and Joy, Bertram and Beekman, Julian and Prime. Meeker got a new lease of life with the going out of the old cla.s.s and the coming in of the new, for the Doctor did not spoil these latter as he had their predecessors, and the Doctor treated him with a consideration that had been lacking a long time, for there were days in the past when Meeker's poverty and troubles, coupled with other circ.u.mstantial evidence, had made him the object of the Doctor's suspicions, and Meeker knew it, and thanked heaven for the load that was lifted when Briggs broke down and bore it all with him. As for the Doctor himself, he came at the same hour every day, poked his cane and the old jokes at the occupants on the mourners' bench, and never seemed more tickled in his life than when, from the distant front, there came a joint letter from Damon and Pythias, who happened to meet for one blissful evening. The watch episode was a thing he would never speak of, but shrewd school-boy observers found a topic that would sometimes start him even to the extent of proclaiming subsequent half-holiday, and that was "our polemical young friends" who had abandoned the cla.s.sic shades of Columbia for the sword.

"'_Et tunc pugnabant pugnis_,'" he began one day----

"Ha, young gentlemen of the First Latin, behold the line immortalized by your predecessors of the year agone. Half-holiday to him who completes it with a new reading.

"'_Et tunc--pugna--bant pug--nis_'----

"Who supplies the ellipsis? What! a volunteer already? Let us see: '_Et nunc gladiis pugnan_.' Neither brilliant nor metrical, but pregnant with patriotic truth. Half-holiday to Douglas, and---- How have the rest done, Mr. Halsey?"

"H'm," says Halsey, "rather worse if anything."

"Ha! Ominous report. Take your seats, young gentlemen, and we resume the consideration of Xenophon. What's that suggestion? 'Fresh air to clear your brains?' Loquax redivivus! However, Mr. Halsey,--there may be something in it. We'll try it."

THE END.