Brede’s face grew white with passion. “Nor do I take advice from common and contemptible liars,” he responded scornfully.
It is uncertain what would have been said or done next, had not Harple seized Brightly’s arm and hurried him away. He had chanced to notice the two boys in conversation, had hurried across the hall in time to hear the last words, and, acting on the urgent necessity of the moment, now rescued his friend from further trouble by removing him from the scene.
Harple had made it his business during these days to be with or near his chum as much as possible. He felt somehow that Brightly was no longer responsible for his own conduct, and that some one should be on hand to keep him from bringing further disgrace upon himself. In this case, at least, his vigilance had been amply rewarded. He shuddered to think what the result would have been if the quarrel with Brede had gone on.
But Harple suffered much by reason of his anxiety for his friend. It pained him deeply to see Brightly sinking into such a deplorable state; he was beginning to feel that he was powerless to save him. He had exhausted his powers of logic, of entreaty, even of abuse. He could do nothing now except to stand by and extend such aid and comfort as he might. Brightly was still as friendly with him and apparently as fond of him as of old; but he would not listen to reproof or advice.
Harple watched with alarm the demoralization also of Brede. He felt and knew that there were strong and co-operating influences at work on these two long-time rivals and enemies that were dragging them both, surely and rapidly, to degradation; but what these influences were he could not even guess.
Almost every movement made by either was an act of retrogression. Perhaps the change was more marked in respect to the society they chose than in any other way. Boys with whom Brightly had had nothing in common in the better days, and whom Brede had utterly disdained, appeared now to be the friends of both.
Colonel Silsbee’s hope that the deepening spring-time would put to rest the spirit of unquietness and discontent among his boys was not realized. There was neglect of lessons; there were breaches of military discipline, infractions of academy rules, private quarrels, boisterous conduct.
A half-dozen of the older boys had been discovered one day in a secluded nook smoking cigars and pipes, and had been promptly disciplined. There had been an incipient riot in the upper dormitory at night after taps, the participants in which had been severely punished. Half the school was on delinquency, and of half that number the delinquency was perpetual.
The principal and teachers were quite at a loss what course to pursue. One thing only seemed feasible, and that was to draw the lines with still greater strictness, and to compel the utmost obedience by the severest discipline.