The boys reached the park long before the procession did, and took up a position near the pagoda in which the president of the village and the trustees were to stand while the line passed in review. When it arrived, the band led the way around the park until it met the advancing column; then it turned inside of it and went around again, and thus the whole line, with the exception of the Toxophilites, was wound up like a coil. The archers kept straight ahead, the boys in the ranks carrying arms, and the captain saluting by bringing his bow to a position that somewhat resembled the “secure arms” of the tactics, until they reached a clear space at the other end of the park which had been reserved on purpose for them. There they halted, and, when the firemen had broken ranks, and the soldiers had been brought to parade rest, their commanding officer put them through the manual of arms and some intricate evolutions in the school of the company, giving his orders to the bugler who stood beside him, and not to the company itself. Ralph and Loren were delighted with every thing they saw, and had many words of praise to bestow upon the young bowmen; but Tom was silent and sullen. He didn’t like to hear so much cheering when none of it was intended for him. When he was engaged in a game of ball he always flew into a passion if he made an error, or if any of the other side made a play that called forth applause from the spectators. He was angry now; but it would have puzzled a sensible boy to tell what reason he had for it.
“That captain, or whatever you call him—” began Loren.
“Master bowman,” said his father.
“Well, he is a nobby fellow, and that bugler looks gorgeous in his green uniform with its white facings,” continued Loren. “I wonder who they are, any way?”
“Why don’t you go and inquire?” asked Mr. Farnsworth.
“They wouldn’t speak to you,” snarled Tom. “They’re little upstarts; I can tell that from here by the frills they throw on.”
Loren and his brother didn’t care if they were. The signs seemed to indicate that they were coming to Mount Airy to live, and if that was the case, they wanted to know something about the boys they would have for their associates. So as soon as the drill was brought to an end and the ranks were broken, they set out to scrape an acquaintance with the master bowman and bugler, Tom following them with rather a listless, indifferent air. But in reality he was as eager as his cousins were. Would he not be willing to give something handsome if he could make himself the leader of a select band like that?
CHAPTER IV.
THE MOUNT AIRY TOXOPHILITES.
LOREN and Ralph Farnsworth, in spite of Tom’s predictions to the contrary, had no trouble in scraping an acquaintance with the first bowman they met. It was Arthur Hastings, the secretary of the company and one of the best shots in it. They drew his attention by touching their hats to him as he passed (that is, the brothers did, Tom being in too bad humor to be civil), and Arthur seeing that they desired to speak to him, stopped and opened the conversation himself.
“I know almost every stranger here this summer, but I don’t remember to have seen you two before,” said he, pulling off his white gloves and extending a hand to each of them.