There had been a time when Richard Grant would have desired no better fun than to engage in such a mutiny as that proposed by Nevers and Redman; and he was not yet so far removed from his evil propensities as to be able to decline the proposition. The boys of the Institute believed they had a real grievance, for it seemed harsh and needless to deprive them of some of their best hours for amusement. It looked just as though the principal was angry because he could not ascertain who had broken the rules of the school, and spitefully intended to punish the innocent with the guilty.

Probably none of them intended to carry their opposition any farther than to express their disapprobation of the new regulation. The colonel was a universal favorite, and they had full confidence in his judgment and his justice. Perhaps the desire to have a little fun and excitement was the strongest motive that actuated them.

During the afternoon, the plan to redress their grievance was whispered among the boys. "All the fellows were going to join the mutiny" was the strongest inducement that could be used to obtain the consent of the timid ones; and if "all were going to join," it would require a great deal of moral courage to stand aloof from the scheme.

Richard was sorely perplexed. With the others, he felt that the new regulation was arbitrary and unnecessary; and such a scrape as the boys proposed was exactly in accordance with his antecedents. He wanted to join for the fun of the thing, and because the rest of the boys were going to do so. He did not like to be singular. Besides, he might injure his popularity, and lose some of the influence he possessed, if he refused to join.

The temptation was so strong that he could not at first resist it; and though he did not positively promise to meet the others under the big oak, he gave them some encouragement that he would do so. The little time he had to think of the matter during the study and recreation hours did not enable him to arrive at a conclusion; and at five o'clock, when school was dismissed, he was still halting between two opinions.

When he left the school room, he fixed his mind upon the question, and began to discuss it in the most vigorous manner. He knew that any resistance to the authorities of the school was wrong. Colonel Brockridge had made the rule, and it was his duty to observe it. What would Bertha say, after he had given her such a glowing account of his success in overcoming temptation, when she was informed that he had joined a mutiny?

"I'll keep my resolution!" said he, stamping his foot upon the ground to emphasize his determination. "I'll stand out against the whole of them."

Half past five came, and nearly every boy in the school had gone to the appointed place. Richard sat on the bench at the foot of the flagstaff on the parade ground, thinking whether his duty required him to do any thing more than simply refuse to join the mutiny. Somehow, it entered into his head that it was his duty to prevent the rebellion if he could. It even occurred to him that he ought to inform Colonel Brockridge of the intention of the students, and thus place himself on the side of law and order; but he rejected this suggestion, it was so utterly repugnant to his nature. He could not "tell tales out of school." If any body's life, property, or happiness had been at stake, he might have felt differently. Richard was a novice in advocating the claims of law and order, of truth and justice; and he was more easily satisfied than some would have been in a similar situation.

"While he was debating this matter with himself, Nevers, Bailey, and Redman approached, and interrupted his meditations. They appeared to be a committee appointed to wait upon him, and ascertain his views upon the momentous question.

"You didn't come down," said Nevers.