These words were very comforting to the deserters. The owner of the Sylph was one of the prominent men of Bridgeport, and it was not at all likely that he would neglect to use his influence with the superintendent in behalf of the boys who had saved his relatives from a watery grave. Lester Brigham could hardly contain himself. He had won a reputation at last, and the hated Gordons were nowhere. He believed now that he would stay at the academy, and Enoch, Jones and the rest of them had about come to the same conclusion. They all wanted warrants and commissions, and who could tell but that their recent exploit would give them the favor of the teachers, who would see that their desires were gratified?
At daylight the next morning Bert Gordon sent word to Captain Mack that the doctor thought his patients were now able to continue the journey to Bridgeport. No time was lost in getting under way, and at dark they were in Oxford. The Idlewild was turned over to her owner in just as good condition as she was when she left port, and Captain Mack, after seeing the rescued people to a hotel, at which they intended to remain for a day or two in order to obtain the rest they so much needed, and sending despatches to the superintendent and Mr. Packard, took the first train for Bridgeport with the deserters and the main body of his men, leaving Bert, Egan, and six others to bring the Sylph up the river. Before she was hauled into her berth the camp had been broken, the students had marched back to the academy, and the examination was going on as if nothing had happened during the term to draw the students’ attention from their books. Mr. Packard had responded to Captain Mack’s telegram by going down to Oxford and bringing his relatives back with him, and the townspeople were almost as highly excited over what the deserters had done, as they were when they learned that an academy company had put down the Hamilton riot. There were some among them who declared that Enoch and Lester ought to be promoted; but the superintendent was of a different opinion. He admired their courage, but he could not lose sight of the fact that in stealing a private yacht and running off in her, they had done something for which they ought to be expelled from the academy. In fact that was the sentence that was passed upon them by the court-martial; but the superintendent set it aside, as everybody knew he would, and commuted their punishment to deprivation of standing and loss of every credit mark they had earned during the year, thus destroying their last chance for promotion.
The examination came to a close in due time, and the result astonished everybody. Don Gordon made the longest jump on record, springing from the ranks to a position “twelve yards in the rear of the file-closers, and opposite the centre of the left wing” of the battalion. In other words, he became major; Bert was made a first-lieutenant, and Sam Arkwright, the New York boot-black, was promoted to a second-lieutenancy. This was enough to disgust Lester and Enoch, and not even the satisfaction they felt at being invited to dinner and made much of at Mr. Packard’s residence, could make them good-natured again. Forgetting that the position a boy occupied in that academy was determined by his standing as a student and a soldier, and not by any acts of heroism he might perform while on a runaway expedition, they laid Don’s rapid promotion to favoritism, and threatened him and the teachers accordingly. As for Don, who had simply tried to behave himself, hoping for no higher round than a lieutenant’s commission, he was fairly stunned; and as soon as he had somewhat recovered himself, his first thought was to enjoin secrecy upon his brother.
“Don’t lisp a word of this in your letters to mother,” said he. “Tell her that the result of the examination is perfectly satisfactory to both of us, and let her be content with that until she sees our shoulder-straps.”
Lester Brigham pursued an entirely different course. The papers were full of the exploit the deserters had performed on the bay, and whenever he found an article relating to it that was particularly flattering to his vanity, he cut it out and sent it to his father. He wanted him and everybody else about Rochdale to know what a brave boy he was.
The examination over, two parties of students left the academy and started off to enjoy their vacation in their own way, Lester and his friends heading for Mississippi, and Curtis and his friends striking for the wilds of Maine. The latter had long ago sent for their guns, which arrived during their first week in camp. Bert, whose highest ambition was to bag a brace or two of ruffed grouse, carried his little fowling-piece; Don, who had an eye on the moose and caribou which, so Curtis told him, were still to be found on the hunting-grounds he intended to show them, had sent for his muzzle-loading rifle; while Egan and Hopkins were armed with the same ponderous weapons with which they had worked such havoc among the ducks and quails about Diamond Lake. To these outfits were added fly-rods, reels and baskets which they purchased in Boston, Curtis making their selections for them. The Southern boys were astonished when they handled the neat implements that were passed out for their inspection.
“I don’t want this pole,” said Don, who was holding an elegant split-bamboo off at arm’s length. “It’s too limber. It isn’t strong enough to land a minnow.”
“That isn’t a pole; it’s a rod,” said Curtis. “Of course it is very light and elastic, and you couldn’t throw a fly with it if it were not; but it’s strong enough to land any fish you are likely to catch in Maine. I suppose you have been in the habit of yanking your fish out by main strength, haven’t you? Well, that’s no way to do. You’d better take it if you want to see fun.”
Don took it accordingly, though not without many misgivings, and the other boys also paid for the rods that Curtis selected for them, carrying them out of the store as gingerly as though they had been made of glass. But there proved to be any amount of strength and durability in those same frail-looking rods, and their owners caught many a fine string of trout with them before the season closed.