"I am No. 2," added Pell, as if he was simply recalling the locality of his place in the barge.

Not a word about his imprisonment, not a hint in relation to their opinion of his conduct. Tom thought it was very strange. He was allowed to take his place in the ranks of the students, and no one seemed to know that he had been standing out against orders. The same state of things had bothered delinquents in years before, and they could not explain it. Others could, if they had been disposed to do so.

The principal had requested all the pupils not to allude to any matters of discipline to offenders. If one had been punished, they were not to talk about the matter, and not to inform the delinquent that they even knew of the fact. To the reformed Topovers, it seemed more like a good joke on Tom not to notice what had happened; and they took pleasure in complying with the principal's request. He had made quite a speech in regard to this matter. Tom's vanity had no standing-room. Nobody seemed to care whether he had been punished or not.

CHAPTER XVIII.
NAUTICAL INSTRUCTION ON THE WHARF.

The first two weeks of the term were devoted to giving the new students a proper start in their studies, and in the work of the shop. At the same time they learned to pull an oar, and to handle a rowboat. At the end of that time the crew of the Winooski could pull a very fair stroke, and were tolerably obedient to the orders of the coxswain. A Whitehall fellow undertook to have his own way at one time, and the boat went to the shore at once. In five minutes more he was locked up in his room.

The next day, after he had backed down, and resumed his place in the schoolroom, he took his oar again. No one appeared to know that he had disobeyed orders; no one said anything; he received no sympathy, and was subjected to no condemnation, among his associates. He had a good chance to turn over a new leaf if he was disposed to do so. The very fact that he was ignored, proved that his fellow-students were in full sympathy with the principal.

The students were simply requested to ignore any offender, and they could disregard the request if they were desirous of doing so. If there was any real or fancied grievance among the pupils, of course they would disregard it; but just now all was serene, and even the bad boys were delighted with the routine of the institution. The early lessons were given out with a view to interest them. In the shop, they were set to making something,—a box at first,—which could not help amusing them.

On the first Saturday of the term the ship's company of the Sylph were organized. Dory Dornwood was captain again; though only for the first month, while the new scholars were broken in. It was understood that Oscar Chester was to take his place from the first of October. The principal offices were filled by the old students, who were qualified to instruct their subordinates. The recruits were scattered about: some were firemen, some were stewards, and most of them were deck-hands.

The day was devoted to exercising the students in their new duties. Of course, there was considerable friction in places, but not so much as the principal had expected. As long as the boys tried to do their duty, their short-comings and their failures were overlooked. If one refused to obey an order, he was shut up in a storeroom; and excellent discipline prevailed on the second Saturday, when the practice was repeated.