True To His Colors Part 16

"You'll find that that will not make any difference," said Marcy. "They are down on the school, and you two will have to stand snubbing with the rest."

d.i.c.k laughed and said he did not believe it, and he and his companion kept on to the fence, which they climbed without a word of remonstrance from the sentry, who was obliging enough to turn his back when he saw them coming. Marcy watched them until they disappeared in the bushes, and then fastened his eyes on his book; but he could not read. The air was too full of excitement for that, and he could do nothing but think. How he pa.s.sed the time until the guard-runners and those who had received pa.s.ses began to return from town, he could not have told. There was a good deal of feeling among the best of the Barrington people, they said, but the members of the committee did not blame the academy boys for marching into town. On the contrary, they were rather gratified at the promptness with which they "showed up"; for it was an indication that they would not be found wanting when the critical time came; but they did not like the way the commandant had of meddling with their munic.i.p.al affairs, and had sent Mr. Riley and some others to extort from him a promise that he would never be guilty of it again.

"So that report was true," said Dixon, who brought this news to Marcy Gray, "and that was the lesson the colonel has been pouting over all day. He gave Mr. Riley the a.s.surance that no matter what happened in Barrington, not a single boy of us should be allowed outside the grounds with a musket in his hand."

"Rodney didn't come home with you, did he?" said Marcy. "I wish he would make haste, for I should like to get my mail. Do you know where he is?"

"That reminds me of something I made up my mind to ask you the minute I got here," answered Dixon; and Marcy judged, by the furtive manner in which he looked around to make sure there was no one within earshot, that he did not want anybody else to know what he had to say. "Has Rodney anything in common with that villain, Bud Goble?"

"Not by a long shot," exclaimed Marcy indignantly. "Why do you ask?

Don't you know him any better than that?"

"I thought I did; but the last time I saw him and d.i.c.k Graham, they were searching everywhere for Bud. Graham is, or was, all right; there's no discount on him, but-"

"But what?" demanded Marcy, when Dixon paused. "Don't say a word behind Rodney's back that you would not say to his face."

"I won't," replied Dixon, who was neither angry nor frightened. "I hope you have been acquainted with me long enough to know that I am not that sort of fellow. I say d.i.c.k is all right, because he will not make a move either way until his State moves; and in the mean time, he will not want to do harm to those whose opinions differ from his own. But, Marcy Gray, that cousin of yours is about half crazy."

"That's a fact," said Marcy, after thinking a moment.

"Consequently Rodney is not all right, and there's a heavy discount on him," continued Dixon. "He is down on everybody who does not think as he does, and I am afraid-Look here: Why is Rodney so anxious to see Bud Goble if it isn't to put him up to some mischief?"

"That's so," replied Marcy thoughtfully. "Why is he?"

"There was a time when Rodney's blood would have boiled at the idea of standing by and seeing helpless people served as those two Union men were served by the members of Mr. Riley's committee last night, but it isn't so now," continued Dixon. "He believes that Northern sympathizers ought to be punished, and he don't care how it is done or who does it!"

"But d.i.c.k Graham is with Rodney, and you think d.i.c.k is all right," Marcy reminded him. "d.i.c.k wouldn't be likely to stay with him if he thought Rodney was going to put any more mischief into Bud Goble's head."

"d.i.c.k was all right the last time I talked with him, but how do I know but that Rodney has succeeded in bringing him over to his side."

"Oh, I hope not," said Marcy earnestly. "I'll speak to Rodney when he comes, and tell him to let all such fellows as Goble alone. Don't repeat what you have said to me, will you?"

"Of course not. I think too much of Rodney for that, and if he gets himself into trouble through his foolishness, I'll be one of the first to jump in and help him out."

Marcy was on nettles after Dixon went away, and it is a question whether he would have felt much easier in his mind if he had known why it was that his cousin was so anxious to find Bud Goble. Rodney did not want to put any more mischief into the man's head; he wanted to take out some he had put there two days before. He did not feel as bitter toward Marcy and d.i.c.k Graham as he did when he slipped away from his friends on the evening that Confederate flag came to him through the post-office, and wrote that letter calling Bud's attention to the fact that there were some Union boys in the academy who ought to be told that their room was better than their company. The threats that Bud had made against Marcy, and the destruction of the property of those two Union men, frightened Rodney, who would have given up all his worldly prospects to know just how much his letter to the paid spy had to do with bringing about the present state of affairs. His desire now was to stop Bud before he could go any further.

Marcy, depressed in spirits and fearing, he knew not what, waited and watched in vain. Dress parade was over, supper had been eaten, and the gate closed for the night, and still Rodney and d.i.c.k had failed to report.

"I feel a little worried myself," said Dixon, to whom Marcy went for sympathy and comfort. "And I don't believe Captain Wilson is altogether right in his mind, for I have heard him making inquiries among the boys. In fact he has been to me to find out where I last saw the missing chaps, and what they were doing. But don't be uneasy. I didn't tell him that they were looking for Bud Goble. I almost wish I had," he added, to himself. "I may have to do it yet if they don't turn up all right."

"Captain Wilson doesn't think they could have got into any trouble, does he?" said Marcy anxiously.

"He didn't say a word on that score."

"But it looks as though he was afraid of it," replied Marcy. "If he wasn't afraid something had happened to them he would not ask about them."

This interview with Dixon would have added to Marcy's fears, even if he had not learned, as he did a few minutes later, that all the boys in the hall were talking about it, and wondering what had become of Rodney and d.i.c.k. Like many others these two had openly defied all the rules for weeks past, but they had never before stayed out after dark, and some of the students declared that they wouldn't do it now if they were not prevented from coming back to the academy. When Marcy heard this, he decided that something ought to be done. He went upstairs and told the orderly to ask if he might speak to the colonel.

"I think I know what you want," whispered the orderly, "and I tell you plainly that he won't let you do it. But I'll go in with your message."

There were others among the students who thought they knew what Marcy wanted, and who followed him to the head of the stairs to "see how he would come out with the old man." The orderly disappeared through the colonel's door, but came out a few minutes afterward to report-

"What did I tell you?"

"What did he say?" inquired Marcy.

"He says he doesn't want to be bothered. I put in a good word for you, suggesting that perhaps you wanted permission to go to Barrington and see what has become of Rodney, and he said in reply that you need not trouble yourself. You could not go. He will not allow a boy outside the gate after dark, no matter what his business is, and he'll chuck Rodney and d.i.c.k into the guard-house the minute they return, and keep them there."

For the first time since he had been a student at that school Marcy Gray felt rebellious. He stood high in his cla.s.s, was always on hand when duty called him, never ran the guard, hadn't asked for a pa.s.s for more than a week, and for the colonel to send him off in this way, without even listening to the request he had to make, was rather more than Marcy could stand.

"I was going to ask him to let me go to town and see if I could learn what has become of Rodney and d.i.c.k," said he to the boys who were waiting for him at the top of the stairs. "But he sent word by the orderly that he wouldn't see me. I'm going to Barrington all the same."

"Do you want company?" asked Dixon.

"I should like to have three or four good fellows," replied Marcy, "but mind you, I shall not ask anybody to go with me. I am bound to get into trouble."

"Well, you can't find any better guard-house companion than I am," answered Dixon.

"I'm another good fellow for that cheerful hole," observed Billings. "I ought to be, for I've been there often enough."

Bob Cole said he was a third candidate for a court-martial, announced his determination to go if Billings went, whether Marcy said so or not, and the latter decided that three boys were as many as he cared to bring into trouble on account of their friendship for him and the missing students.

"Now, fellows," whispered Dixon to the other boys who were gathered about. "You stay in the hall, and if anybody asks you where we have gone, you can tell him you don't know. Be quiet now, all of us, and don't act or look as though there was anything in the wind."

This was easier said than done, for now that these four students had decided to run counter to the colonel's express orders, and find out what had become of Rodney Gray and his companion, they were impatient to be off. But three of their number managed to leave the hall without attracting very much attention, and halted in the shade of the trees to wait for Dixon, who, being an experienced guard-runner, had loitered behind to ascertain who were on posts three and four, between which they would have to pa.s.s in order to reach the fence.

"They're solid boys," said he, when he joined Marcy and the rest under the trees. "If we can get close enough to give them a hint of what we want to do before they challenge us, they'll let us through. After we get a little farther along, perhaps it would be best for me to go on ahead."

Of course the suggestion was adopted, for among all the boys in school there was not one who knew how to manage affairs of this sort better than Dixon. He succeeded in getting within sight of one of the sentries without being stopped, made him understand, in some mysterious way, that secrecy was not only desirable but necessary, and in a few minutes whistled for his companions. Such a proceeding as this would not have been successful, nor would it have been attempted, at any other time in the history of the academy.

"I've been thinking about those two boys ever since I came on post," said the sentry, in a low tone. "And I am glad you have made up your minds to go in search of them, in spite of the colonel. Crawl over whenever you get ready, but I mustn't see you do it."

The sentry faced about, and the four guard-runners placed their hands upon the fence and were about to "crawl over," when their movements were arrested by a sound coming from the thicket close in front of them. Remembering how old Uncle Toby had approached Marcy Gray's post, they stopped and listened.

"St-St-!" was the sound they heard, and something told them that the person who made it desired to communicate with them secretly.

"Who is it?" whispered Dixon.

"It's me," answered a voice.

"Who's me? If you are a friend come out and show yourself. If you are an enemy, get away from there or we will be down on you like a shower-bath."

"It's me; Caleb Judson. Don't you know me?"

"Whew!" whistled Dixon softly, while the rest of the boys nodded and winked at one another. "It's one of Bud Goble's friends. Are we not in luck? I know of you," he said aloud. "But what are you doing there in the bushes? Come close to the fence and tell us what you want. Be quiet, for there are guards on both sides, and we mustn't let them hear us."

Thus encouraged, Caleb Judson arose from his hiding-place and came forward; but, as if he were afraid of treachery, he halted just out of reach of the fence.

"That won't do," said Dixon. "Come up close so that we can talk between the pickets. It's too late for you to run now, even if you wanted to. You see this fellow?" he added, calling Caleb's attention to the sentry, who came up holding his musket at "arms port." "That gun of his has got a bullet in it, and his orders are-"