“You did know it, or else you couldn’t have met us at the depot,” answered Don, after he had returned his brother’s greeting.
“I mean that you ought to have sent us word this morning,” said Egan. “The ladies would have got up a good supper for you if they had had time to do it.”
“We should have done full justice to it, for we had an early breakfast and no dinner,” Curtis remarked. “But you have not yet told us what is the matter with you, Hop. I hope you were not shot.”
“Oh, no. It is nothing more serious than a sprained ankle,” replied Hopkins.
“And ‘thereby hangs a tale,’” added Egan. “I’ll tell you all about it when we get up to the academy. Hop showed himself a hero if he did run out of the back door.”
“How did you get back to Bridgeport?” inquired Don.
“I went home with the doctor on the morning that you fellows started for Hamilton, you know,” replied Egan. “Well, as soon as he had dressed my hand and the wounds of some of the other boys who were able to walk, we went up the track to the next station, and there we telegraphed for a carriage. To tell the truth I never expected to get home, for the rioters were scouring the country in search of us. We heard of them at every house along the road, and everybody cautioned us to look out for ourselves.”
During a hurried conversation with their friends, Don and Curtis learned that the people of Bridgeport knew as much about the fight as they did themselves. Perhaps they knew more, for they had heard both sides of the story. The students who came home the day after the fight—the missing ones had all reported with the exception of three, whose wounds were so severe that they could not be brought from the city—had given a correct version of the affair and described the part that every boy took in it. All those who had done their duty like men were known to the citizens, and so were those who gave up their guns when the strikers demanded them. The boys who did the fighting, however, had not a word to say regarding the behavior of their timid comrades. They had an abundance of charity for them.
“We don’t blame them for being frightened,” Don and Curtis often said. “There isn’t a boy in the company who wouldn’t have been glad to get out of that car if he could. When you have been placed in just such a situation yourselves, you will know how we felt; until then, you have no business to sit in judgment upon those who are said to have shown the white feather.”