CHAPTER V. JUST BEFORE THE BATTLE.
"They have stolen our clothes!" shouted Ben Ludlow, who was the first to discover the mischief that had been done.
"Shall we steal theirs if we can get hold of them?" asked Dory.
"We can't get hold of them," replied Ben, who was not disposed to renew the former discussion.
"Perhaps we can; we know where they are, and all we have to do is to go and take them," added the coxswain, with a smile and a shrug of the shoulders.
"But the fellows have them on," Ben objected.
"That has nothing to do with the right and wrong of the question," continued Dory.
"I think we had better get back our own clothes before we talk of stealing theirs," said Ben. "I am cold now I have come out of the water, and I want my shirt and trousers."
"We are all in the same pickle," laughed Dory, as he glanced at the boats of the Chesterfields.
The collegiate gentlemen seemed to be afraid the Beech Hillers would not know what had become of their garments, and they were flaunting them in the air as a matter of information to their rivals. And they seemed to be enjoying the situation hugely, and the shouts of derision and the roars of laughter came across the waters thick enough to stir up all the bad blood in the veins of the Winooskis.
"We are in a pretty fix," exclaimed Phil Gawner, as he extended his arms as an athlete would exhibit his muscles.
The principal required every student to wear trunks when he bathed, and was very strict in enforcing the rule. When the second class came out of the water, they were certainly in uniform, though it was rather unique in style. It was a cool day, and cooler on the shore than it was in the water. Most of the boys began to shiver as they stood on the beach, and the situation was very uncomfortable as well as very annoying, so far as the proprieties of society were concerned.
"I shall freeze to death," said Lick Milton, his teeth chattering like those of a person with the ague.
"So shall I! And we shall all catch our death of cold," added Jim Alburgh.
"I have one cold now, and I shall have another on top of it," shivered Corny Minkfield.
"All the crew in the boat!" shouted Dory, with a vim that showed he was determined to do something.
"All aboard!" cried half a dozen others, as they tumbled into the barge.
Half the crew were required to shove her off before they took their places; but in a minute they were all afloat, wondering what the brisk coxswain intended to do.
"We can get warm if we can't do anything else," said Dory, as he took the tiller lines in his hands, "Up oars! Shove off! Let fall! Give way!" The last order was given when the boat had been shoved clear of the sands of the beach, and had come about so that it was headed out into the lake.
The unclothed rowers bent to their oars, and the Winooski began to spin through the water. The exercise was in the highest degree exhilarating under the circumstances. Dory had the worst of it for he had no oar to pull; but he swayed his body with more than usual vigor, and the wind of the crew was not likely to last a great while under the rapid movements required of them.
The coxswain shook up his frame and muscles all he could, and he soon ceased to shiver. A couple of minutes were enough to send a glow through the veins of the rowers, and they were soon as warm as though they had been clothed in their overcoats.
The Dasher and the Racer continued to flaunt their banners in the air, and to send their shouts of derision over the water, until the Winooski had reached her highest speed. Very likely Wash Barker and Mad Twinker had some idea of the rapidity with which the Beech Hill barge was approaching them. At any rate they hauled down their banners, and got their oars into the water.
In spite of their present semi-nude condition, the Winooskis were still under the influence of the usual discipline, and they did not attempt to look behind them, or otherwise to inquire into the movements of the Chesterfields. But the coxswain knew that the curiosity of a boy is almost as strong as his love of fun, and he was in the habit of giving his companions all the information that would interest them.
"The Chesterfields have taken down the clothes and are pulling with all their might to keep out of our reach," said he, when he was warm enough to use his organs of speech without stammering.
"That is not saying much," replied Life Windham.
"We shall overhaul them in about three minutes," added Dory.
"What then, Dory?" asked Ben Ludlow, but his wind was so nearly gone that he could hardly speak.
"I don't know, that depends," answered the coxswain.
"If they don't choose to give us back our clothes, I don't see that we can do anything," said Life Windham.
"Perhaps we can, we will see."
But Dory was very anxious in regard to the situation, and he found it very difficult to decide what to do. True to his antecedents, he wished to avoid a quarrel, or even a dispute, with the members of the Collegiate Institute. If he went near them there was sure to be trouble; but it would be impossible to recover the clothes without approaching them.
There were only two courses open to him: one was to return to Beech Hill with his naked crew, and the other was to confront the Chesterfields; and a meeting might result in their being obliged to go back to the other side of the lake in their present novel uniform. It would be humiliating to return in a state of nature, and to encounter the derision of the first class.
Was it necessary for him to submit to every indignity without resistance in order to avoid a quarrel? Must his crew submit to being robbed of their clothes rather than stand up for their rights? Must they abandon their property rather than make an effort to reclaim it,—rather than run the risk of a quarrel?
Dory decided these questions in the negative very promptly. His religion was stalwart enough to make him believe there was such a thing as carrying even meekness too far. If there proved to be a quarrel, he should go into it with clean hands, having done nothing to provoke it; and what was true of himself personally was true of every member of his crew. Not one of them had uttered a jeer or a taunt in the hearing of the assailants. They had minded their own business in the fullest sense of the phrase; and whatever happened they were not to blame.
The boys were warm and comfortable by this time, and the coxswain had greatly reduced the rapidity of the stroke. The rowers had regained their breath, and were watching the anxious face of Dory with the most intense interest. There were twenty-six of the Chesterfields, which was double their own number, and to get their clothes by force did not look like a hopeful enterprise to any of them. But the Gildrocks were not far off, and their assistance could be had for the asking.
"Now, fellows, we must overhaul those boats," said Dory in his usual quiet tone, when he had decided not to return to Beech Hill in their present uniform.
"What are you going to do, Dory?" asked Ben Ludlow curiously; and the same question was on the lips of every member of the crew.
"I intend to do whatever it may be necessary to do. We are going after our clothes, and we must get them the best way we can," replied the coxswain.
"But suppose they won't give them to us?" suggested Life Windham.
"The clothes belong to us, and we have urgent need of them at just this time. If they won't give them to us, we must take them, if we can," answered Dory.
"But we can't," added Phil Gawner.
"We can't tell till we try."
"Don't you think we had better call on the Gildrocks, and get them to help us?" Ned Bellows asked.
"That's the idea!" exclaimed Lick Milton. "Then we shall have as many fellows as they have."
"Do you see anything of the Gildrock?" inquired Dory with a smile.
"I don't see her, but she can't be far off," answered Lick, as all the crew cast their eyes over the lake astern of them.
"I think she has gone into Rock Harbor," said Jim Alburgh. "The Gildrocks don't want to see us just yet, after the whipping they have had."
"If we go after the Gildrock it will be half an hour before we can get back here again. Those fellows will hide our clothes while we are gone, and I am not in favor of losing sight of them for a moment," added Dory.
"But what's the use of going ahead when we can't do anything if we come up with them?" said Ben Ludlow.
This question was discussed for the next few minutes; and it was plain that Ben Ludlow and several others had "no stomach for the fight" which they believed would grow out of a meeting with the Chesterfields. If there was going to be a fight, they wanted to be equal in numbers to the enemy; and they felt that the older and heavier fellows of the other boat would make an even thing of it.
For this reason they were not in favor of following up the Chesterfields until they were reinforced by the Gildrocks. This was the view of several of the crew, but the majority, whatever their opinion, were entirely willing to leave the whole matter to the plucky but prudent coxswain. He had always brought them out of all difficulties, and they were more disposed to trust him than to depend upon themselves. They were vigorous in their support of Dory, declared that they would obey orders whatever broke, and hoped he would do what he thought best.
Those who were anxious to follow their own views were compelled to yield the point, and they ceased to offer any further resistance. Ben Ludlow and the others who had been so desirous of getting even with the Collegiates were not so earnest as they had been. They were ready to "call names," and throw mud, but when it looked like a brush of another kind, their backs were not so stiff.
"Fellows, you have behaved first rate so far, and I hope you will do so to the end of this affair," said Dory, after all questions had been settled. "You kept still when I asked you to do so, and, whatever happens, we shall go in with clean hands. I don't know how we can settle this matter with those fellows, but I want you to be silent and let me do all the talking with them."
"All right, Dory: propel," replied Corny Minkfield; and the sentiment was promptly indorsed by all the others.
The coxswain began to increase the speed of the Winooski, which had already gained half the distance between the boats. In a few minutes she was within hail of the enemy.