“It is some comfort to know that the governor is not disposed to put me on short allowance,” thought he, as he sat down on a log and rested his rifle across his knees, “and perhaps I can manage to stand it for a while. If I can’t, and father won’t let me come home, I’ll skip out, as Bob Owens did; only I’ll not go into the army. But it can’t be all work and no play up there. There must be some jolly fellows among the students who are in for having a good time now and then, and they are the ones I shall run with. I am sorry Bert is an officer, for he will tyrannize over me in every possible way. I feel disgusted whenever I think of that.”
Lester Brigham was not the only boy in the world who felt disgusted that day. There were three others that we know of. One of them lived away off in Maryland, and the others lived in Rochdale. The last were Don and Bert Gordon.
When their father came into the room in which they were sitting and told them that Mr. Brigham was waiting to see them in the parlor, they followed him lost in wonder, which gave place to a very different feeling when they learned that this visitor had come there to make some inquiries regarding the Bridgeport military academy, with a view of sending his son there. Bert gave truthful replies to all his questions, and so did Don, for the matter of that; but he did not neglect to enlarge upon the severity of the discipline, or to call Mr. Brigham’s attention to the fact that no boy need go to that school expecting to keep pace with his classes, unless he was willing to study hard. Believing that Lester would make trouble one way or another, Don did not want him there, and he hoped to convince Mr. Brigham that the academy at Bridgeport would not at all suit Lester; but he did not succeed. The visitor seemed to believe that military drill was just what his refractory son needed, asked the boys when they were going to start, thanked them for the information they had given him, and took his leave.
“Well, now, I am disgusted,” exclaimed Don; while Bert went over to the window and drummed upon it with his fingers.
“I don’t see how you are going to help yourselves, boys,” said the general. “Lester Brigham has as much right to go to that school as you have.”
“I know that,” replied Don. “But I don’t want him there, all the same.”
“Neither do I,” said Bert. “He will be in my company, and if I make him toe the mark, he will say that I do it because I want to be revenged on him for burning Don’s shooting-box and getting Dave Evans into trouble.”
“Do your duty as a soldier, and let Lester say what he pleases,” said the general.
“Oh! he’ll have to,” exclaimed Don. “If he doesn’t, he will be reported. Bert’s got to walk a chalk line now, and if he makes a false step, off come his diamond and chevrons. It’s some consolation to know that we can’t introduce him to Egan and the rest. They would snub us in a minute if we did, and serve us right, too. A plebe must be content to wait until the upper-class boys get ready to speak to him.”