When the tug came abreast of the sloop, she stopped. The students manned the boats, and commenced pulling toward the Swallow, evidently with the intention of boarding her. The runaways watched these movements in alarm, and finally gathered about their captain, advising him to go along-side the tug and surrender, without any farther delay. The lieutenant-colonel, they said, had authority from the principal to arrest them, and they would only get themselves into trouble by opposing him.
“I won’t do it,” said Rich, decidedly. “We can’t be in any worse fix than we are now, and, as long as I see the least chance for escape, I’m going to hold out. When the colonel comes on board, we’ll tell him that if he wants the ship, he can take her. He can’t manage her, and I don’t believe there’s a boy on board who can. If we can only delay them until dark, we shall be all right.”
But the runaways did not have an opportunity to put this plan into execution, for, as the boats approached, they discovered that one of them was under the charge of Mr. Hudson. This took all the backbone out of them, for, however much they might have felt disposed to refuse to yield obedience to the commands of the lieutenant-colonel, they did not dare to resist the teacher. So, when the boats came within speaking distance, and Mr. Hudson sternly ordered Rich to take the Swallow along-side the tug, he promptly obeyed. At this moment there was not one among the deserters who did not heartily wish that he had never had any thing to do with Tom Newcombe or his “grand idea.” If they had all remained at the academy, even though they had failed in their examination, they would simply have been denied the privilege of going into camp with the others, but now they would be obliged to endure some terrible punishment. And it was the uncertainty of what that punishment would be, that troubled them more than any thing else. Had they been sure of a whipping, they would have braced up their nerves, prepared to “take it like men,” and congratulated themselves that it would soon be over with. But that was not the principal’s way of dealing with such characters. He had a faculty of making a student, who had been guilty of misconduct, feel indescribably mean and little; and the runaways were certain that, theirs being an extraordinary case, something new would be invented for their express benefit.
“Newcombe, I wish I had never seen you, or heard of your society!” exclaimed Martin. “It’s all your fault.”
“O, now, it isn’t, either,” drawled Tom. “You are all just as much to blame as I am.”
“I can’t see it,” said another. “If we once get out of this scrape, we’ll steer clear of you in future.”
By this time the runaways had been marched on board the tug, the sloop was manned by some of the crew of the steamer, who were detailed for that duty, and both vessels shaped their course toward Newport. Rich and his companions felt particularly sheepish. They could not look Johnny or his friends in the face, for they knew they had treated them in a way they would not like to have been treated themselves. Johnny, however, did not seem to feel very badly about it, for, as Rich stepped on board the tug, he said, with a laugh:
“Well, captain, your cruise didn’t last long!”
“You deserters are not half the sailors I thought you were,” said one of the students. “I hoped that you would lead us a long race. We have had a splendid time following you, and I had much rather spend my vacation at sea than in camp.”
The students asked the runaways innumerable questions about the manner in which they had effected their escape from the academy; inquired how they had enjoyed themselves, and what had been the cause of the mutiny, (for Johnny had explained why he and his friends had been left on the wharf,) to all of which the deserters replied in as few words as possible. They were thinking of the court-martial, the guard-house, and extra duty, and did not feel at all inclined to talk.