CHAPTER XIX. SOMETHING MORE ABOUT THE BEECH HILL REBELLION.
After dinner the students resumed their study of the plans for the boat-house and wharf. Some of them went over to the grove in the afternoon, but nothing more was seen of the Topovers that day. The lake was too rough to admit of the Chesterfields bringing them over in their barges. Probably the young gentlemen of the Collegiate Institute got enough of them before night.
The next morning the lake was smooth, and the two barges brought the marauders to the head of Porter's Bay. Some of the Beech Hill students were in the grove at the time, for it was a quiet place to work on the plans. Bolly Millweed spent the whole day there, seated on the shore where he could see the whole water front of the opposite side of the lake.
The other students were not deeply absorbed in their study of architecture, and they observed with interest the landing of the Topovers. The Chesterfields appeared to be on excellent terms with their allies, and quite a conference took place between them on the shore. Doubtless the Beech Hill students were the subjects of the conversation, for the Topovers frequently pointed in the direction of the estate, and seemed to be explaining the nature of the locality to their patrons.
Mad Twinker and Jeff Monroe walked up the hill to the centre of the grove, where they could see Beech Hill Lake and the school buildings. But the visitors soon returned to the other side of the lake, and the Topovers went to their homes. Most of the latter had been truants from school, and very likely many of them were punished for their misconduct either by their parents or their teachers.
Of course a great deal was said by the students at liberty about the rebels; but those who wore the uniform were emphatic in their condemnation of those who refused to put it on. The rebels were still required to stay in their rooms, and their meals were sent in to them. Each of them had been fitted by the tailor, and had taken his uniform to his own apartment.
The principal had sent word to them that, when they desired to return to their duties, all they had to do was to put on the uniform and take their places with their schoolmates. Although they were forbidden to communicate with one another or with the other members of the school, it is probable that each one knew what the others were doing.
The rebellion had not worked as they intended and expected. Lew Shoreham had been appointed the orator of the malcontents, and the battle was to be fought out with words in the schoolroom. This was not the principal's way of dealing with such cases. He gave the "jingo" element no chance at all.
On one of the first days of the school he detected a couple of students in the act of engaging in a fight. Investigation showed that there was no grievance between the parties, and the battle was to see which was "the best man." He locked them both up in the machine shop, and gave them two hours to ascertain which was the best man. With no one to witness the encounter they did not care to fight, and came out good friends.
The rebels could not help feeling that their enterprise had already "come to grief." Lew Shoreham's argument had been prepared, but it was unspoken, and was likely to remain so while its author pined in the solitude of his chamber. The malcontents could not confer together, for Bates would not allow any two of them to meet in the halls. Bart Cornwall tried to talk with Lick Milton in the next room, but the remorseless jailer threatened to put him in the black hole if he said another word; and he did not.
Each rebel, therefore, was compelled to think and act for himself. He could not lean on his leader or his companions. Life Windham was one of the most restless under his confinement. He liked to know what was going on, and he found himself shut out from the world and all that was in it. The principal had begun his announcement of the prizes for the best plans when the conspiracy broke out. Life concluded that he must have deferred the business till the rebellion was disposed of, and he wondered what he had said to the rest of the students about the refusal to wear the uniform.
Life fretted and worried over his situation until after dinner of the second day. Then he went over the whole subject of the uniform in his own mind. He thought he was abused and persecuted, but he could stand it no longer. Impulsively he put on the uniform which hung at the head of his bed. It was a good fit and he thought he looked well in it. He tried on the cap with the monogram in front. It was neat and plain, and the only objection he had to it was that it was part of the uniform.
He was so anxious to learn what was going on at the school, and what the principal had said about the rebels when they left, that he went out into the hall. Bates was on his feet the instant the door was opened. The old man smiled when he saw that Windham wore the uniform, and as the ex-rebel passed him, he saluted him as politely as though he had never been his prisoner.
The dormitory was located near the rocks, at a little distance from the lake, which could not be seen from its windows. Life Windham knew nothing at all about the stealing of the boats by the Topovers, and the lively scenes on the lake in the forenoon. It was after one o'clock, and the students ought to be in the shops. He went there, but they were deserted.
Life concluded that the principal had given the rest of the students a vacation as a reward of merit for not joining the rebellion. He walked to the lake. Seated in one of the four-oar boats, busily engaged in drawing on a large sheet of brown paper, he found Dory. As stroke-oarsman the ex-rebel sat next to the coxswain in the Winooski, and he was more intimate with him than with any other student. When Dory saw him getting into the boat, he rolled up his drawings, and put a rubber band around them.
"Hallo, Dory!" said Life, as he walked aft in the boat.
"Glad to see you, Life," replied the coxswain. "You look well in the new uniform."
"I couldn't stay in my room any longer, but I have not changed my opinion in regard to making us wear a uniform," added Life, who could not even now back wholly down. "But what are you doing? Why are the fellows not in the shops?"
"One question at a time. I am trying to make a plan for a boat-house. The principal gave the students three days to get up their plans, and they are to be handed in day after to-morrow morning."
"Did the principal offer the prizes?" asked Life, astonished that it had been done in the absence of the rebels.
"Of course he did; he had opened the subject before you left the schoolroom."
"But I thought he would put it off after one third of the whole school had left."
"He don't do things in that way," added Dory.
"But what are the conditions? Perhaps I am not too late, for I had some ideas about a plan."
"We are not allowed to speak to anyone about the plans," answered Dory. "Every fellow is put on his honor to say nothing to anyone about them."
"Then the eight fellows that object to being dressed like monkeys are to be shut out from the competition!" exclaimed Life indignantly. "That is about as unfair as anything can be."
"You had the same chance that the rest of us had, and you chose to stay in your room rather than hear the terms on which the prizes were to be given."
"We were standing up for a principle."
"Whew!" whistled Dory laughing. "The principle that you won't wear the colors of the Beech Hill Industrial School."
"The principle that we won't be punished for the sins of others," retorted Life smartly.
"You are wrong on the fact, as I have shown you before."
"It's no use to argue the point with you: if the principal had only been fair enough to hear what Lew Shoreham had to say, we should have been fully justified."
"He never argues the point with those who refuse to obey."
"No matter. Have you heard anything more from the Chesterfields?"
"We had a smart brush with them this forenoon," answered the coxswain; and he proceeded to tell the whole story of the encounter with the Topovers and their allies.
Life Windham listened with breathless interest. It was the liveliest affair of the whole season, and he had been shut up in his room. He was vexed and indignant that he had not been permitted to take a hand in the stirring enterprise. When he had finished the narrative Dory wanted to work on his plan, and Life left him. He found all the other students at liberty were engaged in the same way.
Life had to spend the afternoon by himself. Late in the day he saw Bob Swanton come out of the dormitory with the uniform on. He was just beginning to ask himself if he had not been a traitor to the "cause," and to the rebels engaged in it. He was glad to see one of them. Life was pleased to have a companion, and they talked over the situation.
"Not the least notice seems to have been taken of us," said Swanton.
"Not the slightest," added Life. "Why, the principal did not even say a single word about us after we left the schoolroom, and has not mentioned us in any way."
"He is the oddest principal I ever heard of. I suppose he will let the fellows stay in their rooms all winter," continued Bob Swanton, who had pluck enough to fight, but not enough to be ignored.
"I have come to the conclusion that Lew Shoreham ought to have made his argument when the order to put on the uniform was given," said Life, rather sheepishly; "for the principal was certainly ready to hear all the fellows had to say at that time. Lew didn't say a word about punishing us for the sins of others then."
"I asked him why he did not, and he said he had not thought of it at that time."
But the supper-bell ended the discussion, and the two ex-rebels went to the house with the other students. Captain Gildrock saw them, but he made no remark of any kind about their return to duty, or the fact that they wore the uniform. The rest of the students seemed to be glad to see them, but they would not allude to the rebellion.
The next morning. Harry Franklin and Phil Gawner appeared in uniform; and at night only Lew Shoreham remained a prisoner. The next morning the plans for the prizes were to be handed in, and when the school had assembled, quite a number of the students had rolls of drawings in their hands; but many of them had nothing to show for their three days' study of architecture and engineering.
At the appointed hour the principal came in and took his place on the platform. A moment later Lew Shoreham entered in full uniform, with the cap in his hand.
"May I be permitted to make an explanation?" said the last of the rebels, rising in his seat.
"In my private office at the close of the school," replied Captain Gildrock.
That was not what the chief rebel wanted.