“Endicott, you are the best fellow for work of this sort I ever saw!” said Enoch, admiringly.
“I know it,” was the modest reply. “But I don’t believe in doing things by halves. After all, it was no trouble for me to get that car at reduced rates, for the men on the other road know who I am. Now you had better fall in and go ahead. It is almost train time.”
After holding a short consultation with the leader of the band, Enoch went back to take command of the company, at whose head stood the two color-bearers; one holding aloft the Stars and Stripes, and the other carrying the white, gold-fringed flag of the academy. At the command, “Fours, right—march!” they wheeled into column, and moved off with as much steadiness and precision as a company of veterans. When they arrived at the transfer-depot they halted long enough to break ranks, after which they boarded the car that Endicott had been thoughtful enough to provide for them. It was the last one on the train. It was to be dropped at Bordentown, and picked up again by the train that came through at four in the morning. When the boys were all in their seats, and the band had come in, Enoch and Endicott went out to see that the dinner was put into the express car. It was so very abundant, and the number of boys who went into the rear car was so small, that it is a wonder that Mr. Taylor did not suspect something. But he was kept busy superintending the removal of the eatables, and, besides, he probably thought that the students understood their own business better than he did; and so long as he was well paid for his trouble, he did not think it worth while to bother his head about matters that were supposed to be under the charge of somebody else.
When the train moved out of the depot, the conspirators drew a long breath of relief and began to act more like themselves. Looking upon their victory over the first-class boys as an assured thing, they broke out into cheers for Lester Brigham, whom they still believed to be the originator of the enterprise; for Enoch Williams, who had managed everything so adroitly; and for Endicott and his three companions, who had spirited Blake and the rest of the committee of arrangements away into the country, so that they could have a clear field for their operations. The band helped the matter along by giving furious and discordant blasts upon their instruments, and the hubbub that arose in that car must have led the people living along the road to believe that there was a menagerie aboard.
“They’re shouting before they are out of the woods,” said the long-headed Enoch. “They seem to forget that there is such a thing as a telegraph in this part of the United States. Jones, when we reach the hall, you had better station a sentry at the foot of the stairs, with orders to allow no outsider to go by him. In that way we shall be able to intercept any little dispatches that the first-class boys may send to Mr. Taylor.”
“But won’t he be mad when he finds out how nicely he has been fooled?” exclaimed Lester, as if the thought had just occurred to him.
“I believe you,” assented Enoch. “He is a big man, and could make it very uncomfortable for us if he should set about it. That’s the reason I want that sentry placed in the hall. We must eat the dinner, have our speeches, toasts and songs, and get back to Hamilton before he hears any bad news. If we don’t, we shall find ourselves in hot water.”
Lester and Jones had never thought of these things before, but now they began to see that the rightful owners of the dinner were not the only ones they had to fear. There were Mr. Taylor and his assistants, and there were the members of the band—twenty big, stout Germans, who would be likely to express their opinion of the afternoon’s proceedings in a way that would be by no means agreeable. It was plain that the conspirators had placed themselves in a very unenviable situation, and that nothing but the exercise of the greatest caution could bring them safely out of it.
In due time the train reached Bordentown, and when it stopped in front of the depot, Enoch was greatly disgusted and not a little alarmed to discover that the only fire company of which the place could boast, had turned out to escort the visitors to the hotel in which the banquet was to be held. The little village had never before been honored by a class dinner, and the people intended to treat the boys so well that they would use their influence to induce the next graduating class to hold their dinner there also. Enoch saw it all, but before he could express his sentiments regarding the action of the fire company, or ask advice of any of his counselors, the train came to a stand-still, and the foreman, trumpet in hand, entered the car.
“Captain?” said he, looking around inquiringly; whereupon Lester and Jones pointed to Enoch.