The Young Wild-Fowlers

by Harry Castlemon

“Nothing much,” replied Forester, in a tone of disgust. “They will simply be court-martialed for stretching their passes, and that will be the last of it. They have broken no law, and consequently they can’t be touched for taking our dinner. If there is a sergeant or corporal among them—a shoulder-strap wouldn’t have anything to do with such a crowd—he will be hauled over the coals for conduct unbecoming a gentleman and an officer; but they can’t punish him beyond taking some of his credit marks away from him. But what were you going to say about that locomotive, Blake?”

“I propose, in the first place, that we hire a carriage apiece, and ride around the city and see how many of our boys we can get together; and if we can raise force enough to warrant it, we will charter a couple of cars and go down to Bordentown after our dinner.”

“And you will get it, too,” said Mr. Colson, who could not have taken more interest in the matter if he had been a boy himself. “I will help you all I can, and as I am well acquainted with the president of the Bordentown Branch, perhaps my influence will be of some use to you. I am glad I did not strip the hall. Something told me that I had better let it alone for a day or two.”

The boys lingered in the office long enough to make a little improvement in their personal appearance, which they accomplished by a liberal use of Mr. Colson’s blacking, and by picking the burrs off their coats. Then they hastened to the nearest livery stable to secure carriages and drivers, while Mr. Colson bent his steps toward the transfer-depot, where he found an engine but no passenger cars. There were flats in abundance, however, and the superintendent said the boys might have a couple of them for nothing if they would bring the dinner back with them. In that case he would charge them for the use of the engine only; but if the “pirates” beat them off and held fast to the dinner (both he and Mr. Colson seemed to think that there would surely be the biggest kind of a fight in Bordentown), he would make no deduction whatever.

The president was a dignified old gentleman, but he had not forgotten that he was a boy once, and he even said that he wished he could see his way clearly toward offering assistance to the rightful owners of the dinner; but when he saw the company of students which Blake and his two companions, with such help as their drivers had been able to render them, had brought together in an incredibly short space of time, he knew it wasn’t necessary. There were eighteen of them—all mischievous, fun-loving boys, who were ripe for a frolic of any kind, so long as they had the law on their side. They were all overwhelmed with amazement at the skill and secrecy with which Lester and his party had carried out their designs, and at the exceeding coolness and impudence they had exhibited in marching through the streets of Hamilton to the music of a band that had been engaged by somebody else, and for an altogether different purpose. A few of them were as angry as they would have been if the trick had been played upon the members of their own class; but the majority looked upon it as a huge joke, and laughed heartily over it to the intense disgust of Corporal Forester, who was sorely tempted to fight some of them. But they never hesitated a moment when Blake told them that he wanted their assistance. They went with him willingly, and if a fight had been forced upon them, they would have struggled as desperately for the possession of the dinner, as the first-class boys themselves. They had all heard the music of the band in the morning, but did not take the trouble to inquire the reason for it; consequently they knew nothing of the trick that had been played upon the graduating class until Blake and his committee waited upon them at their homes and told them of it. They fully concurred in Blake’s opinion—that although Lester Brigham was at the bottom of it, Enoch Williams was furnishing the brains.

Their train being in readiness, the students sprang aboard the cars, and Blake waved his hand to the engineer as the signal to go ahead. The latter had been told that haste was not only desirable but necessary, and he “opened wide out” almost at the start. The boys had never ridden on flat cars before, and they were not long in finding out that it was a most disagreeable mode of traveling. The road was rough, the cars swayed from side to side in the most alarming manner, and as there was nothing to which they could hold fast, they were in imminent danger of being thrown off; but they gave no heed to that. They clung to one another for mutual support, and shouted and sang at the top of their voices—all, except Blake and his committee, who were in no humor for nonsense. They couldn’t forget how much they had at stake.

The twenty-four miles that lay between Hamilton and Bordentown were accomplished in almost as many minutes, and when they reached a point from which they could take a survey of the principal street, they were not a little chagrined to see that there were a good many men wearing red shirts and firemen’s hats, strolling about in company with fellows in gray overcoats, and fatigue caps of the same color. This made it evident that Lester and his followers had been tendered a reception on their arrival at the village.

“We’ll give them another,” exclaimed Forester, “and it will be one they will remember as long as they live.”

“You will have to catch them first,” observed a tall student, who stood behind Blake, and who, like a good many of the others, had put himself in fighting trim by pulling off his overcoat. “Just see them run, will you!”

Blake and his committee were surprised as well as amused at the magical manner in which the gray-coats disappeared when the wearers caught sight of their train. They scattered in every direction, and the engineer, appreciating the situation, gave a loud blast on his whistle to taunt them with their cowardice. The firemen and the members of the band, believing that the newcomers were first-class boys who had accidentally missed the regular train, came out on the platform to meet them, the tall band-master and his big bearskin cap leading the way. The chairman of the committee was the only student in the party with whom he was acquainted, and him he greeted with great effusion.