“And why not? Is it because I don’t invite you to go to Hamilton with me to-day? Can’t help it, my fine fellow. No student, unless he belongs to the graduating class, can sit down to a dinner like this. That’s the law. It is unwritten, but, like the common law of England, it’s binding.”
“Well,” said Don, speaking seriously this time, “I certainly hope you and the rest of the boys will see no end of pleasure. You have been looking forward to this day for four long years, and I trust it will pass away without the smallest incident to mar your enjoyment.”
“Thank you,” said Mack. “The same to your own class-day, when it arrives. I do hope there will be no hitch in the programme; that is the only thing I stand in fear of. It always puts me on nettles when these formal things do not go off as they ought. I feel like sneaking out and hiding myself. It would be just awful if anything should happen to-night, for we have received favorable replies from about a hundred and fifty invited guests—Come in,” he cried, in response to a knock at the door.
“I’ll do it,” answered the cheery voice of the president, who entered the room, carrying a brown envelope in his hand. “I feel better,” he continued, as he helped himself to a seat on the sofa beside Don. “Here’s a dispatch from Blake, and he says that everything is O. K. That means that the dinner could not be improved, that the hall looks just as it should, and that the band will be at the depot to meet us. Could anything be more satisfactory?”
Colonel Mack and his chum thought not. The dinner was really a big undertaking, there were many chances for unpleasant and even disagreeable things to happen, and it was very gratifying to them to receive the assurance from those who were on the ground that their plans were working smoothly.
CHAPTER VII.
A SURPRISE.
There were two passenger trains that passed through Bridgeport every afternoon going toward Hamilton, one being the regular mail, which was due at five o’clock, and returning, left the city at four in the morning. This was the train the graduating class intended to take, the committee having chartered two extra cars to accommodate the members. The other was the lightning express, which passed through the village at one o’clock, and returned at four in the morning. This was the train on which they were to come back. We mention these facts to assist us in explaining some unexpected and astounding incidents which happened in connection with this particular dinner.
The boys in the first class were impatient, as live boys always are when they are waiting for something, and after they had got into their best uniforms, they hardly knew what to do with themselves. Some of the very uneasy ones strolled about the buildings and grounds in companies of twos and threes, while others, and these were the fellows who had the most self-control, read away the time in the library. Here and there, as far away from his companions as he could get, might have been seen a student who was walking about with rather an abstracted air, now and then giving his hand a flourish, and all unconscious of the fact that every one of his movements was observed and commented upon by interested spectators, who would be sure to laugh at him afterward. These were the boys who were expected to propose and reply to some of the toasts of the evening.
The hours dragged their weary length away, and at last a sergeant appeared upon the steps and roared out the command for the first company to fall in. Almost before he opened his lips there was a rush made for the armory, and when Captain Walker led his company into it, with Colonel Mack marching in the ranks like any private, he found all the students assembled to see him off—that is, all those about the building who were not on duty. Eighty or more boys were out on leaves of absence for the day.
There were no pale and anxious faces among the young soldiers now as there were the last time a company was marched out of that same armory to go to Hamilton; for these boys were not armed, and neither were they going to the city to encounter an infuriated mob who would welcome them with a shower of coupling-pins and brickbats. They were going to—well, they expected a very different sort of reception. They got it, too, but after all it was not just such a one as they had confidently looked for.