It was finally decided to go up to the railroad track and follow it down the river, keeping a sharp lookout for anything that might turn up in the way of diversion.
Patchy had lost his cap somewhere, and Brightly tied his handkerchief over the child’s head to protect him from the hot rays of the sun. It gave him a comical appearance, and some of the larger boys began to make fun of him. The little fellow wanted to take it off; but Brightly turned savagely on the tormentors and shut them up, and ordered Patchy sternly to keep it on.
The utter foolishness of the expedition was already beginning to impress itself on Brightly’s mind. Now that the step had been taken, the breach made, now that it was too late to turn back, he was just coming to a realization of the position in which he had placed himself.
Moreover, the thought that this little boy, the youngest in the school, had been led into evil by the example and persuasion of such fellows as he,—fellows old enough to be responsible,—preyed upon his mind, as he walked silently along over the ties.
He kept Patchy in sight, helping him across the short bridges, and holding him up against the bank while the trains flashed by. Brede went on ahead, talking loudly, coarsely at times, telling what he should do in case “Old Sil” attempted to punish him, or any of his fellows.
By and by they came to a tunnel in the face of an abrupt hill. The mouth of it was very dark, and the small, rectangular spot of light which marked the farther opening indicated that it was also very long. Some of the more foolhardy were for pushing on through it; but the timid ones stoutly demurred, and one frightened small boy began to cry. Then Brightly declared that he should not enter it, nor allow any one else to do so, if he could prevent him.
So wiser counsels prevailed, and the company retraced their steps till they came to a narrow lane at the edge of a piece of woods, and they turned up it toward the highway; but the unfenced woods along this route were so cool and attractive, and the forest air was so sweet, that they all lay down under the shade of the trees to rest.
Many of the lads were still laboring under deep excitement; but the tendency to loud talking and boisterous laughter had lessened, and the country stillness was scarcely broken by their noise. For most of them, indeed, this quiet hour among the shadows of the forest was the only bit of genuine enjoyment that they had during their entire outing. Even Brightly felt the calming influence of Nature on his perturbed spirit.
Brede had stretched himself lazily on the ground, and he and two or three others were smoking cigars, which one of their number had thought to bring. There was no sign of serious thought in his face, nor of genuine enjoyment. He felt that he had crossed the Rubicon of disobedience; he proposed now to indulge his vicious taste for rebellious freedom to the full.
It was Plumpy who called the company to attention by the remark, “I’m hungry. Isn’t it about lunch-time?”