I was more disposed to use strategy than force; for, in spite of the victory I had won, I was fearful that the tyrant "carried too many guns" for me. The malignity of his aspect was accompanied by an expression of pain, as though he had been injured by his fall. This was in my favor, if I was to be again compelled to break a lance with him.

"You villain!" gasped Mr. Parasyte, with one hand upon his side. "How dare you resist?"

"I have no fancy for being cut to pieces with a cowhide," I replied, as coolly as I could, which, however, was not saying much.

"Your uncle wished me to reduce you to subjection, and to flog you till you came to your senses."

"I am not very grateful to my uncle for his request; and I have to say, that I will not be tamely flogged either by you or by him."

"What do you mean to do?" demanded he, apparently astonished to find me so resolute.

"I mean to resist as long as I am flogged," I replied, twisting the cowhide I still held in my hand.

Saying this, I jumped upon the window-seat, and unfastened the sash.

"Stop!" said he, moving towards me.

"I know what you mean now; and if you come near me, I will hit you over the head with the butt-end of this cowhide," I replied, raising the sash.

"I intend to reduce you to subjection at any hazard," he added.

Without making reply, I attempted to get out of the window in such a way that I could drop to the ground, or "hang off" with my hands. In doing this, I laid myself open to the assault of the enemy, who was prompt in perceiving his advantage, and in availing himself of it. Seizing me by the collar with both hands, he dragged me back into the office, and hurled me heavily upon the floor, at the same time wrenching the cowhide from my grasp. I sprang to my feet with the celerity of a wounded tiger; but the principal began to beat me with a zeal corresponding to his malignity.

A heavy round ruler on the desk, which had before attracted my attention, was available as a weapon, and in the fury of my passion I grasped it. Without thought or consideration except in my own defence, I sprang upon the tyrant again, and dealt him several heavy blows with the implement, until one was planted in such a place on his head that it knocked him insensible upon the floor. Panting like a hunted deer from the rage which filled my soul, and from the violence of my exertions, I gazed upon the work I had done. Mr. Parasyte lay motionless upon the floor. I took the key from his vest pocket, and unlocked the door.

In the hall I found several persons, including Mrs. Parasyte, and Mr. Hardy, one of the assistant teachers. They had been sitting in the parlor opposite the office, and had heard the noise of the desperate struggle between the principal and myself.

"What have you done!" exclaimed Mrs. Parasyte, greatly alarmed when she saw her husband lying senseless upon the floor.

"This is bad business," added Mr. Hardy, as he hastened to the assistance of the principal.

"Is he dead?" asked the wife, in tremulous tones.

"No—O, no! But he has had a heavy blow on the temple," replied the teacher.

I assisted Mrs. Parasyte and Mr. Hardy in carrying my foe to his chamber. I was alarmed myself. I feared that I had done more than I intended to do. I went for the doctor at the lady's request; but before my return Mr. Parasyte had come to his senses, and complained of a severe sickness at his stomach. The physician carefully examined him, and declared that his patient was not seriously injured. I need not say that I was greatly relieved by this opinion. I left the room, intending to depart from the house, though it was now nearly eleven o'clock at night. Mr. Hardy followed me out into the hall, and wished to know where I was going.

"Home," I replied.

"I'm afraid you have got into difficulty, Thornton," added he.

"I can't help it if I have. I didn't mean to hurt him so badly; but it was his own fault."

"How did it happen?"

I told him how it happened; but Mr. Hardy expressed no opinion on the merits of the case. He knew, as well as I did, that Mr. Parasyte had been wrong from the beginning; but being in a subordinate position, it was not proper for him to condemn his principal.

"The boys are in a riotous condition, and it is fortunate they do not know of this affair. I hope you do not intend to inform them—at least not to-night," he added.

"No, sir, I do not. I have tried from the first to keep the peace. Poodles confessed to Mr. Parasyte that he had lied about the affair on the pier, but he refused to believe him. I am sorry there has been any trouble; but I couldn't help it."

Mr. Hardy was really troubled; but he could not say anything, and he did not. He was a poor man, trying to earn the means to study a profession by teaching, and a word or a look of sympathy to a rebel like me would have cost him his situation. He was a just and a fair man, and as such was loved and respected by all the students. Many of the boys had often wished that he might be the principal of the academy, instead of Mr. Parasyte, who had established and who still owned the institution.

There was nothing more to be said or done, and I left the academy for home. I was sincerely sorry for what had happened. Even a quarrel in which I had been the victor had no pleasant reflections for me. I would have submitted to any punishment except the flogging, and borne the injustice of it without a complaint; but I had been required to confess that of which I was not guilty, and I could not do that. I hated a lie of any kind, and I could not tell one to save myself from the consequences of the tyrant's rage and injustice.

I considered all the events of the day as I walked home, and came to the conclusion that I was not to blame for the mischief that had been done. If I had been haughty and disobedient, it was because I had been treated badly. I certainly did not deserve flogging, and it would have been impossible for me to submit to it. If I had been guilty, I could have borne even that.

My uncle had counselled Mr. Parasyte to reduce me to subjection; and much I marvelled that he had found words to say so much. It was an evidence of interest in me which he had never before manifested. It was plain that, in the settlement of the difficulty, I must count upon the opposition of my uncle, who had already espoused the principal's side of the quarrel. But I did not make any rash resolves, preferring to act as my sense of right and justice should dictate when the time for action came.

As I approached the cottage by the lake, I saw a light in my uncle's library. My guardian sat up late at night, and rose early in the morning. He did not sleep well, and he always looked pale and haggard. He was a misanthrope in the worst sense of the word. He seemed to have no friends, and to care for no one in the world—not even for himself. Certainly he had no regard for me.

Of his past history I knew nothing; but I had already concluded that he had been subjected to some terrible disappointment or injustice. He appeared to suffer all the time; and if he would have permitted it, how gladly would I have assuaged his woe by my sympathy! He was cold and forbidding, and would not permit me to speak a word to him. I had once tried to make him tell me something about my father and mother; but, with an expression of angry impatience upon his face, he had turned and fled in disgust from me.

I longed to know who and what my mother was; but my questions brought no answer. One day, when my uncle was away, I had crept into his library, and tried vainly to obtain some information from his books and papers. He caught me in the room, and drove me out with a curse upon his lips. After that a spring lock was put upon the door, the key of which he carried in his pocket.

On the present occasion I had nothing to expect from my uncle; but I wished to see him, and tell him my story. I knew that he could talk; for, during the preceding year, a man of thirty, elegantly dressed, came to the cottage one afternoon, and walked with my uncle into the grove by the lake. They had business together, and it was not of a pleasant nature; for, prompted by curiosity, I rowed my skiff up to the shore, to learn what I might of the stranger's purpose. I could not understand a word that was said; but my uncle talked rapidly and fiercely, and a violent altercation ensued, which I feared would end in blows. The stranger did not come back to the cottage, and the supper which Betsey had prepared for the guest was not needed.

Learning from this that my uncle had a tongue, I asked him who the stranger was. The answer was only a savage frown. He had no tongue for me. Neither old Jerry nor his wife was any better informed than I was, for both assured me they did not know the stranger. Satisfied, therefore, that my uncle could talk, I was determined to see him before I went to bed, though it was nearly midnight. Perhaps, also, I was disposed to adopt this course, because my guardian had given such bad advice to Mr. Parasyte. I was not insensible to the indulgence with which I had ever been treated; and seeing that my silent uncle wished to avoid me, I had generally favored him in doing so. It was different now. He had given an order or a permission to have me brutally punished, and I was determined to make him "face the music."

I entered the house, and passing through my uncle's chamber, stood at the door of the library, which was fastened by the spring lock.



CHAPTER X.

IN WHICH ERNEST HAS AN INTERVIEW WITH HIS UNCLE.

With my resolution still at the highest pitch of firmness, I knocked at the library door. I expected a storm; it was hardly possible to avoid one; but I hoped, if I could induce my stern and silent guardian to speak or to listen, that I might make an impression upon him. There was no answer to my knock, and I repeated it. Then I heard a stir in the library, and my uncle opened the door. When he saw me, he was about to close the door in my face, doubtless regarding my conduct in knocking at his door as impudent in the highest degree. I was not disposed to be shut out, and anticipating his purpose, I stepped nimbly into the room.

"Uncle Amos, I wish to speak with you for a few moments, if you will be kind enough to hear me," I began, in tones as humble as the veriest tyrant could have required.

He sat down in his arm-chair, leaned his head upon his hand in such a way as to cover his face, but made me no reply, either by word or by sign.

"I would not trouble you if it were not necessary to do so," I continued. "Will you permit me to tell my story?"

He removed his hand, and gave me an affirmative nod; but it was evident to me that my presence was the occasion of positive suffering to him. I knew of no reason why I should be personally disagreeable to him, and it seemed to me that his aversion was caused wholly by a kind of obstinacy, which I could not understand.

"I have had a difficulty with Mr. Parasyte; but I was not to blame, as I can prove by more than half the students in the academy," I proceeded; and then I rehearsed all the particulars of my affray with Poodles, on the pier, including the rebellion of the students, and the confession of the guilty ones.

My uncle may have heard me, and he may not; but he took not the least notice of me, appearing to be absorbed in his own meditations during the recital of my wrongs.

"Mr. Parasyte called me into his private office, and informed me that he had been to see you," I added.

My uncle removed his hand from his face, glanced at me, nodded his head, which was the first indication he had given that he was conscious of my presence, after I began to relate my story. The look that accompanied the nod was anything but a pleasant one. There was something like malignant satisfaction in the glance that he bestowed upon me.

"Then you did request Mr. Parasyte to reduce me to subjection, as he expressed it?"

"I did," replied he, decidedly, as he again uncovered his face, and nodded to emphasize his reply.

This was hopeful, for I had at least got an answer out of him, though the reply was cold-blooded and cruel.

"Did you request him to flog me?" I demanded, a little excited by the fact that my uncle was likely to prove as malignant as the schoolmaster.

"I did," he added; and his eyes seemed to glow like two coals of fire.

It was not difficult now for me to understand the situation. My uncle hated me,—why I knew not. I could not reconcile such a feeling with the indulgence he had always extended to me. I could not see why, if he hated me, as that fierce glare of his eyes indicated, he had always allowed me to have my own way, had always given me money without stint, and had permitted me to go and come when and as I pleased, and rove at will over the broad and dangerous lake.

I have since learned that this indulgence was perfectly consistent with hatred, and that the judicious parent, who truly loves his son, would deprive him of such unhealthy and dangerous indulgences. As he hated me, so he let me have my own way. Had he loved me, he would have restrained me; he would have inquired into my conduct when away from home; and above all, he would not have allowed me to risk my life upon the stormy lake as I did.

"You did request him to flog me, and without understanding the merits of the case!" I replied, indignantly.

He nodded again.

"Uncle Amos, I have tried to do my duty faithfully at school, and to be respectful and obedient to my teachers. This is the first time I have had any trouble. I say, most solemnly, I was not to blame."

"You were," said my uncle.

"Will you hear the evidence in my favor?"

"No."

"You will not?"

"No."

"What would you have me do?"

"Obey your teacher."

"Mr. Parasyte ordered me to apologize to Poodles."

"Do it then."

"But Poodles confesses that I was not to blame."

"No matter."

"I cannot do it, uncle."

"The master must make you do it," added my uncle, with a sneer.

"He attempted to do so. He began to flog me, and I knocked him down," I replied, quietly, but sullenly.

My uncle sprang to his feet, and stared at me with an intensity which would have made me quail if I had been guilty.

"You struck him!" exclaimed he, trembling with emotion.

"When he attempted a second time to flog me, I hit him on the head with a heavy ruler, and he fell insensible upon the floor."

My stern guardian rushed furiously across the room, foaming with passion.

"You villain!" gasped he, pausing before me. "You struck the master?"

"I knocked him down, as I would any other man who insulted me with a blow," I replied, firmly; for I intended to have my uncle understand exactly how I felt.

"You are an obstinate whelp!" ejaculated my guardian, who had certainly found a tongue now.

"All the students think I am right."

"The students! What do I care what they think?"

"They understand the case."

"Humph!" sneered my uncle.

"I see, sir, that I have nothing to expect from you," I continued.

"No!"

"I have only to say that Mr. Parasyte can't flog me. If I were guilty, I would not resist; but I will fight as long as I have a breath left against such injustice."

"Very pretty! May I ask what you are going to do with yourself?"

"I don't know yet; only, if I am not wanted here, I won't stay here. I think I can take care of myself."

"Do you consider this a proper return for all I have done for you?" asked he, more calmly.

"I don't know what you have done for me. I asked you once something about my father and mother, and you did not answer me."

"You have no father and mother," he replied, with visible emotion. "You need not ask any questions, for I will not answer them."

"Did they leave any property for me?" I asked, mildly; and I had already concluded that they did, or my uncle would not have been so lavish of his money upon me.

"Property! What put that idea into your head?" demanded he; and he was more agitated than the circumstances seemed to warrant.

"I have no idea anything about it. I only asked the question."

"It is enough for you to know that I am willing to take care of you, and pay your expenses, however extravagant they may be, as long as you behave properly."

"I have always done so."

"No, you haven't! You have resisted your teacher, knocked him down, killed him for aught I know. You are a bad boy."

It seemed just as though my uncle intended to drive me to desperation, and compel me to commit some rash act. I could not see why he should refuse to tell me anything about my father and mother.

"I asked you whether my parents left any property for me. You did not answer me," I continued.

"I will answer no questions," replied he.

"If they did, it is right that I should know it," I persisted.

"If they did, you will know it when you are of age to receive it."

"I would like to know whether you are supporting me out of your own property or with my own."

"It doesn't concern you to know, so long as you are supported."

"Yes, it does, and I insist upon knowing."

"I shall answer no questions," replied he, more troubled now than angry.

"If there is nothing belonging to me, I am very willing to go to work and support myself. I don't wish to be a burden upon one who cares so little for me as you do."

"I did not say you were a burden. I have given you all you asked for, and am willing to do so still."

"I don't wish to have you do so, if what you give me does not belong to me."

"You are a foolish boy!" said he, impatiently.

"You have hardly spoken to me before for a year; and you never said as much to me as you have to-night before in all my lifetime."

"It was not necessary to do so."

"Uncle Amos, I am old enough now to be able to think for myself," I continued, earnestly. "It is time for me to know who and what I am, and I am going to find out if it is possible for me to do so."

"It is not possible," said he, greatly agitated, though he struggled to be calm. "What do you wish to know?"

"About my parents."

He walked the room for a moment with compressed lips, as if considering whether he should tell me what I wanted to know.

"If I have concealed anything from you, it was for your own good," replied he, with a desperate effort. "Your father is dead; he died eleven years ago."

"And my mother?" I asked, eagerly.

"She is a raving maniac in an insane asylum."

This information came like a shock upon me, and I wept great tears of grief.

"I thank you, uncle Amos, for telling me so much, sad as it is. One more question and I am satisfied. Did my father leave any property?"

"No," said he.

I fancied that this single word cost him a mightier effort than all he had said before, though I could not see why it should.

"Where is my mother now?" I asked.

"You were to ask no more questions; and it is not best for you to know where she is," he answered. "Now, Ernest, I wish you to make your peace with Mr. Parasyte."

"How make my peace with him?"

"Do what he requires of you."

"I cannot do that; and I will not."

"If you persist you will ruin me," said my uncle, bitterly.

"I don't understand you, uncle Amos."

"Mr. Parasyte owes me a large sum of money."

Here was the hole in that millstone!

"His Institute is mortgaged to me. If there is trouble there, the property will depreciate in value, and I shall be the loser."

My uncle seemed to be ashamed of himself for having said so much, and told me to go to bed. I retired from his presence with the feeling that I must sacrifice myself or my guardian.



CHAPTER XI.

IN WHICH ERNEST IS DISOWNED AND CAST OUT.

I was so nervous and excited after the stirring events of the day, that I could not sleep when I went to bed, tired and almost exhausted as I was. I had enough to think of, and that night has always seemed to me like a new era in my existence. My father was dead; and my mother, somewhere in the wide world, was an occupant of an insane asylum. My uncle had told me I had no property, which was equivalent to informing me that I must soon begin to earn my daily bread, unless he chose to support me.

I would not even then have objected to earning my own living; indeed, there was something pleasurable and exciting in the idea of depending upon myself for my food and raiment; but I was not satisfied with my uncle's statements. I could see no reason why he should not tell me where my father had lived and died, and where my mother was confined as a lunatic. I meant to know all about these things in due time, for it was my right to know.

I could not help weeping when I thought of my mother, with her darkened mind, shut out from the world and from me. What a joy she would have been to me! What a comfort I might have been to her! My father was dead, and she had no one to care for her. Was she in a proper place? Was she kindly treated while overshadowed by her terrible infirmity? I shuddered when I thought of her, for fear that she might be in the hands of cruel persons.

It seemed very strange to me that my uncle should spend money so freely upon me if I had no expectations. Why should he wish to conceal anything that related to my father and mother from me? Who was the person that came to the cottage and quarrelled with him? I had reached the years of discretion, and was able to think for myself. What my uncle told me, and what he refused to tell me, taken in connection with his conduct, his mode of life, and his misanthropic habits, convinced me that there was something wrong. I intended to ascertain what it was; and I was fully resolved, whether it was right or wrong, to explore the library in search of any letters, legal documents, or other papers which would throw some light on the mystery, now becoming painfully oppressive to me. It was my duty, as a son, to assure myself that my mother, in her helplessness, was kindly cared for.

I went to sleep at last; and I did not wake the next morning till nine o'clock, which was my uncle's usual breakfast hour. I took my morning meal with him; but he did not speak a single word. After breakfast I went down to the boat-house. I missed the Splash very much indeed; for I wanted to take her, and sail away to some remote part of the lake, and consider what I should do. Then it occurred to me that my sail-boat might be raised and repaired; and I was getting into the row-boat, with the intention of pulling out and finding the place where the Splash had gone down, when my uncle made his appearance.

"Ernest, have you considered what you mean to do?" said he. "Do you intend to go to school?"

"No, sir, I do not," I replied, promptly and decidedly.

"Then I disown you, and cast you out," he added, turning on his heel and walking back to the house.

Was I becoming obstinate and self-willed? Was I refusing a reasonable service? I sat down in the boat to think over it. It was not right that I should apologize to Poodles, after he had confessed that the evidence on which I had been condemned was a lie; and it was of no use for me to return to the academy unless I could do so.

Mr. Parasyte owed my uncle a large sum of money, secured by the estate and good-will of the Institute. If I was driven from the school, a majority of the boys would petition their parents to be taken from it also, and the establishment would be seriously injured. There was plainly an understanding between Mr. Parasyte and my uncle, or the tyrant would not have made war upon me as he did. Should I sacrifice myself in order to save my uncle's money, or to prevent the debt from being imperilled?

No! I could not; but I hoped my uncle would not lose his money, though it would not be my fault if he did. I had just been "disowned and cast out." The sentence hardly produced an impression upon me. I was not banished from a happy home, where I had been folded in a mother's love, and had lived in the light of a father's smile; only from the home of coldness and silence; only from shelter and food, which I could easily find elsewhere.

I took the oars and pulled towards the bluff off which the Splash had sunk. It seemed to me just then that I was breaking away from all my early associations, from my home and my school, and pushing out on the great ocean of life, as my boat was upon the lake. I must go out into the world, and make for myself a name and a fortune. There was something solemn and impressive in the thought, and I rested upon my oars to follow out the idea. Breaking away! To me it was not going away, it was breaking away. There was no near and dear friend to bid me God speed on my journey of life. As for my uncle, he would not have cared if I had, at that moment, been forever buried beneath the deep waters of the lake.

I was awed and solemnized by the thought that I was alone in the world. And looking up to the clear blue sky, I prayed that God would help me to keep in the path of truth and duty. I really hoped that, if I had done wrong, or was then doing wrong, I might be convicted of my error. I prayed for light. I was afraid that I had been wilful and wayward; but as I knew that I was right so far as Poodles was concerned, I could not accuse myself of obstinacy in refusing to apologize. On the whole, I was satisfied with myself, though willing to acknowledge that in some things I had rather overdone the matter.

Resuming the oars, I pulled towards the bluff. My course lay near the shore until I had passed the northerly point of Parkville, where the steamboat wharf extends a hundred feet out to the deep water of the lake. Continuing beyond this long pier, I came in sight of the Parkville Liberal Institute. As it was then the middle of the forenoon, I did not expect to see any of the students; but, to my surprise, I discovered large numbers of them on the grounds between the buildings and the lake. They did not seem to be engaged in the usual sports, but were gathered in groups on various parts of the premises. Everything looked as though some important event had transpired, which the boys were busily engaged in discussing.

I was tempted to pull up towards the Institute, and ascertain what had occurred, and why the students were not in the school-room, attending to their studies; but I was fearful that my presence might do mischief, and I reluctantly continued on my way to the bluff. As nearly as I could interpret the signs, the boys were in a state of rebellion, though it was possible that Mr. Parasyte was too ill to attend to his duties, and in the present excited state of the school, had deemed it best to give the boys a holiday.

The bearings of the spot where the Splash sank had been carefully noted, after my capture, by the principal and his men, and without much difficulty I found the place. The bed of this part of the lake was composed of gravel, washed down by the continual wearing away of the bluff; and as the water was clear, I could see the bottom. The Splash lay in about twenty-five feet of water—as I found by measuring with a fish-line. She sat nearly upright on her keel, and the tops of her masts were not more than a foot below the surface.

How could I coax her to the top of the water? The Splash had been father and mother to me, and I loved her. In my loneliness I wanted her companionship. It did not look like an easy task to raise her; and yet the most difficult things become easy when we hit upon the right method of doing them. The Splash was ballasted with ten fifty-sixes, each with a ring for lifting it. They were deposited on the bottom of the boat, where I could remove a portion of them when I had a large party to take out. I made up my mind, that with a long pole, having a hook on the end of it, I could fasten to the rings of the fifty-sixes, and raise them, one by one, to the surface; and when the ballast was removed, the boat would rise of herself.

Satisfied that this idea was a practical one, I started for Parkville to procure the pole. As I took the oars, I discovered that one of the Institute boats, which I had not before noticed, was pulling towards me. At first I was startled, fearful that it might contain some of my tyrant's minions, sent out to capture me, and carry me back to the school. As the boat came nearer, however, I saw that it was filled with my friends, prominent among whom were Bob Hale and Tom Rush; and I lay upon my oars to await her coming.

"Good morning, Ernest; I'm glad to see you," said Bob, as the Institute boat ranged up alongside of mine.

"What is the matter at the Institute? Don't school keep to-day?" I asked, when I had returned the salutations of my friend.

"There's big news there, Ernest, you'd better believe," replied Bob, in an excited tone.

"What is it? What has happened?"

"There has been an awful row between Mr. Parasyte and Mr. Hardy, and Mr. Hardy has been discharged—that's the first thing; and the fellows won't stand it, anyhow."

"What was it about?"

"We don't know. Mr. Hardy opened the school as usual at nine o'clock; but he didn't say a word to us about the troubles. A little after nine, Mr. Parasyte came in, with a black eye and a broken head. He and Mr. Hardy talked together a little while, and we saw that Parasyte was as mad as a hop. They went into the recitation-room to have it out; but in two or three minutes they returned, and Mr. Hardy said he was going to leave; but he didn't tell the reason—just bade us good by. If we had only known what the trouble was, we would have pitched Parasyte out of the window."

"Then Mr. Hardy has gone," I added.

"Left, and at once. Then Mr. Parasyte made a speech, in which he told us the school was in a state of rebellion; that Thornton had assaulted him, and struck him on the head with a heavy ruler, and that he intended to flog him till he apologized to Poodles, as his uncle wished him to do. We didn't wait to hear any more. We gave a yell, and rushed out of the school-room."



CHAPTER XII.

IN WHICH ERNEST RAISES THE SPLASH, AND THERE IS A GENERAL BREAKING AWAY AMONG THE STUDENTS.

I listened, with astonishment and dismay, to the tale which Bob Hale told me. I could not help asking myself to what extent I was responsible for the troubles which overwhelmed the Parkville Liberal Institute. I told Bob how I felt, and he ridiculed the idea of my shouldering any portion of the blame.

"Even the parson says you are not to blame, and that you have behaved like a gentleman from the beginning," said he, alluding to Henry Vallington, who, on account of his intended profession, often went by the name of the "parson."

"Can you imagine why Mr. Hardy was discharged?" I asked.

"We don't know; but it is easy enough to see that he blamed Mr. Parasyte, though he never said a word to the fellows. The idea of staying at the Institute after Mr. Hardy goes is not to be thought of," replied Bob, who, like myself, was a day scholar at the school. "What did Parasyte mean when he said your uncle wished him to flog you into subjection?"

"He meant that; my uncle told him to do so," I replied, with shame and mortification, not for myself, but for him who should have been my guardian and protector.

"Did he, though? Well, that was amiable of him," added Tom Rush. "He and Parasyte will do to go together."

"They do go together. I find that Mr. Parasyte owes my uncle a large sum of money. I had no idea that they were even acquainted with each other before," I continued.

"Then I wonder that Parasyte made a row with you, if he owed your uncle so much money."

"I don't understand it; but I think Mr. Parasyte didn't expect any trouble. He judged hastily between Poodles and me, and when he had given his decision, he was too proud and too obstinate to alter it. I suppose he was a little afraid after what he had done, and went to see my uncle and ask for instructions."

"But it was cold-blooded for your uncle to say what he did."

"Probably Parasyte told his own story," I replied, willing to shield my uncle as much as possible.

"What did your uncle say to you when you went home?" asked Bob Hale, full of interest and sympathy.

"We had some words, and he disowned and cast me out—to use his own expression."

"Turned you out of house and home!" exclaimed Tom Rush.

"That was what he meant."

"Don't mind it, Ernest," interposed Bob. "You shall come to my house."

"I can take care of myself, I think," was my reply, rather proudly spoken.

"Of course you can; but you shall have half my bed and half my dinner as long as I have any."

"Thank you, Bob."

"We will talk that over another time, Ernest; for at present we have a big job on our hands."

"What is that?"

"We'll tell you by and by. Parasyte says you assaulted him, and hit him over the head with a big ruler. How was that, Ernest?"

I told them what had occurred after we left the school-room, and gave them all the particulars of my battle with the principal.

"Served him right," was the verdict of the boys. "He didn't tell us that he attempted to flog you; only that you pitched into him, apparently without any cause or reason," added Tom Rush.

"You all ran out of school," said I. "What is Mr. Parasyte going to do about it?"

"We don't know, and we don't care. He is a tyrant, and a toady; and all but about a dozen of the fellows are going to quit the school."

"But where are you going?" I asked, surprised at this decided step.

"We have it all arranged, and are going to break away in a bunch. We are getting things ready; but we want you, Ernest."

"Why me?"

"Because you are a good sailor, and know all about boats?"

That was highly complimentary in a direction where I was peculiarly weak—my love of boats and boating. Bob Hale then informed me that the students were going into camp on their own hook this year. This was an annual institution at the academy. Belonging to the Institute were seven tents, large enough to accommodate all the boys and all the teachers; and in the month of July the whole school camped out for one or two weeks. This custom did more for the popularity of the Institute than anything else, and without it, it was doubtful if the school could have been kept together; for it was an offset to the dislike with which a large majority of the boys regarded the principal.

The students had begun to talk about camping out as soon as the spring opened, and when the rebellion broke out, it immediately ran into this channel. The camp during the preceding year had been in a piece of woods ten miles east of Parkville; but the rebels had already decided to establish it, at the present time, on Cleaver Island, two miles north-west of the steamboat pier, and including an area of about twenty acres, well covered with wood.

I could not say that I approved of this scheme; but Bob Hale and Tom Rush said the students had unanimously agreed to it. I was not in favor of insubordination and rebellion. But the moral sense of the boys had been outraged; Mr. Parasyte had resorted to the grossest injustice, and they were determined to "break away" from him. Rather reluctantly I consented to join the insurrection. I ought not to have done so; but smarting as I then was under the injustice of my uncle and the principal, I found an argument to satisfy myself with my conduct.

The Splash seemed to be necessary, in my estimation, for the success of the enterprise, and my friends volunteered to assist me in raising her. I went to Parkville, and procured a long spruce pole, to which the blacksmith attached a hook. Without much difficulty the ballast was hoisted out of the sunken craft, and obedient to the law of gravitation, she came to the surface. We towed her to a bank of the lake in the town, near the shop of a wheelwright, who promised to have her repaired in a few hours. One of the ribs was snapped off, and six of the "streaks" stove in. We hauled her up on the shore, and got the water out of her; and the wheelwright went to work upon her at once, assisted by his journeyman.

I had regarded the Splash as a lost boat; and I was delighted with my success in raising her, and with the prospect of having her again as good as new; for the wheelwright assured me she was not materially injured in her timbers. The result of this enterprise rather inflated my spirits, and not without good reason; for, as I was now to take care of myself, it had already occurred to me that I could make money enough to support me by boating—for there were always residents and strangers enough in the town who wanted to sail to afford me a good business for at least three months in the year.

"Now, Ernest," said Bob Hale, who had embarked with me in my row-boat, "how shall we get the crowd, the tents, and the provisions over to Cleaver Island?"

"I don't think it is a very big job," I replied.

"I do. Of course Parasyte will prevent us from going if he can," said he.

"Too many cooks will spoil the broth," I added. "You want a leader, or captain, who shall manage the affair."

"We will choose you."

"No; I decline at the outset. I don't want the credit of being the ringleader in this scrape after what has happened."

"What do you say to the parson?" asked he.

"Capital!"

We consulted the students in the other boat, and they agreed to this selection. Both boats then pulled to the pier at the Institute. As we approached, all the rebels gathered around us. Bob Hale immediately called them to order, and made a brief statement of the necessity of the hour, and then nominated Henry Vallington as leader of the enterprise. He was unanimously elected, and somewhat to my surprise he accepted.

"Fellow-students," said the parson, in accepting the position, "if I didn't feel that every decent fellow in the Institute had been outraged and insulted by the conduct of the principal, I wouldn't have anything to do with such an affair as this. I want you all to understand that I, for one, am going into this thing for a purpose, and on principle."

"So say we all of us!" shouted the boys.

"Now, you must obey orders, and have no rioting or rows. We shall do this thing in order."

The boys were excited; but the parson told them to keep cool, and, when the orders came, to execute them promptly, which they promised with one voice to do. By this time I had a scheme arranged in my mind for the conveyance of the forces to Cleaver Island, and the leader did me the honor to appoint me master of transportation. I stated my plan to Vallington and two or three of the more influential of the boys. It was cordially approved.

At half past twelve the dinner bell of the Institute rang, as usual; and the boys, who had no idea of being deprived of their rations, marched in to dinner in order; and I went home with Bob Hale, who had invited me to dine with him. On our return, we learned that Mr. Parasyte had made a stirring appeal to the students, in the dining-room, to support the discipline of the school, and had intimated that he intended to prosecute Thornton in the courts for the assault upon him. I was rather startled at this intelligence, for a court was an appalling affair to me.

The boys heard in silence what the principal had to say, and left the dining-room in as good order as usual. At quarter before two the school-bell rang; but only about twenty obeyed the summons. I was on the pier at this time, and shortly after I saw Mr. Parasyte coming down to see the students. Deeming it best to keep out of his way, I pulled over to the wheelwright's, to look after the Splash. An hour later, Bob Hale, Henry Vallington, and Tom Rush joined me, saying that Mr. Parasyte had been very gentle with the boys, and had used only mild persuasions. Having failed in all, he had taken his horse and gone away. This was favorable to our operations, and I advised the parson to hasten back, and do the job at once.

At four o'clock the Splash was finished, and a coat of paint put on the new streaks. I got under way at once in her, taking my tender in tow. Near the Institute lived a man who owned a large flat-boat, or scow, used for bringing wood down the lake. Tom Rush had hired this clumsy craft for a week. The three row-boats belonging to the Institute had been manned by the boys, and were towing this scow down to the pier, according to the plan I had suggested to the parson. When the flat was near the pier, a signal was given, and the boys on shore all rushed to the building in which the tents were stored. There were enough of them to carry all the canvas, poles, and other materials at one load, and the students rushed down to the pier with them at a rapid pace, so that the work was accomplished before any of the assistant teachers or laborers could interfere.

The tents were tumbled into the scow, and all the boys not needed in the row-boats embarked with the camp material.

"All ready!" shouted Henry Vallington.

"Give way!" I added to the oarsmen.



The long painter of the scow had been extended over, and fastened to, the three boats. As the wind was fresh, I went to the head of this line, attached a rope to the painter, and the procession of boats straightened out and moved off, dragging the scow after them.



CHAPTER XIII.

IN WHICH ERNEST IS CHOSEN COMMODORE OF THE FLEET.

The procession of boats went off in good style, after the line was straightened; but the flat-boat was large and heavy, and it required a hard pull to put her in motion. The boys rowed well, and the wind was fresh enough to enable the Splash to do her full share of the work. The distance from the Institute to the island was two miles and a half, and at the rate we moved, I calculated that it would take nearly two hours to accomplish the voyage.

The movements of the students had been so sudden and so well arranged, that if any one saw them, there was not time to interfere before the boats were off. When the scow was fairly in motion, I saw Mr. Gaule, one of the teachers, and the two laborers on the estate, rushing down to the pier, apparently intent upon doing something.

"Come back, boys!" shouted Mr. Gaule.

No one made any reply, or took any notice of him.

"Come back, I say!" he cried again, but with no better result than before.

I was very glad that none of the boys made any insulting replies. They were as silent and dignified as so many judges. We all knew very well that Mr. Gaule had not force enough to attempt anything, and we did not expect to be molested until the return of Mr. Parasyte.

In something less than the two hours I had allowed for the passage, the procession of boats reached Cleaver Island. I was perfectly familiar with every foot of the shore, and I decided that the landing should be effected on the western side, at a point of land which extended out a short distance into the lake. The rowers landed and carried the painter of the scow on shore, by which they pulled the clumsy craft up to the bank.

The tents, cooking utensils, and other camp furniture, were landed and conveyed to the high ground in the southerly portion of the island. As soon as this work was done, Henry Vallington intimated that he wished all the boys to assemble near the point, for a "powwow," to consult upon the state of affairs. The word was passed from mouth to mouth, till all the rebels had gathered at the appointed place.

"Now, fellows, we want to make arrangements for doing this business in good order. When Mr. Parasyte gets back to the Institute, and finds that we are gone, he will not be likely to take it as quietly as he has all day. Our breaking away has really broken up the Parkville Liberal Institute, and I shouldn't be surprised if its principal took some decided steps. I haven't any idea what he will do, but in my opinion he will do something."

"What can he do?" asked Tom Rush.

"He can do a great many things, and especially a great many foolish things. I suppose, when we come down to the niceties of the matter, we hadn't any right to take the boats or the tents. In fact, Mr. Parasyte stands in loco parentis to us."

"In what?" asked one of the boys who did not study Latin.

"In the place of our parents; and therefore has authority to do anything which parents might do. I can't help saying that I have no respect for Mr. Parasyte; that I despise him from the bottom of my heart. He knows, just as well as we do, that Bill Poodles made the trouble yesterday, and he persists in punishing Thornton for it. For such a man I can have no respect."

"So say we all!" shouted the boys.

"There is no safety for any of us, if we permit such injustice. He may take a miff at any of us any time. I hope that something good will come out of this scrape; and I think that something will."

I learned then, for the first time, that Vallington had drawn up a paper, setting forth the grievances of the students, in which several instances of Mr. Parasyte's injustice and partiality were related, and concluding with a full history of the affair between Poodles and myself. This paper had been signed by eighty-one of the students, and the publisher of the Parkville Standard had engaged to print it on a letter sheet, to be sent to the parents of the rebel scholars.

"Mr. Hardy has been discharged. He was the best man in the Institute—just and fair. I don't know anything about it; but I am satisfied that he was sent away because he condemned Mr. Parasyte's treatment of Thornton."

"That was the reason," added Bob Hale. "Mr. Hardy saw Ernest last night, after the row in the office."

"I think we have the right of the case," continued Vallington, "though I suppose we are wrong in breaking away; but, for one, I won't see a fellow like Ernest Thornton browbeaten, and flogged, and ground down. If Mr. Parasyte wants to grind down one, he must grind down the whole."

"I am very much obliged to you," I interposed; "but I want you to understand that I don't ask any one to get himself into a scrape for me."

"When we protect you, Thornton, we protect ourselves. Your cause is our own. We won't say anything more about that matter. We are here now in a state of rebellion, and we must make the best of our situation. When Mr. Parasyte will give us fair play, we will return to the Institute."

"We will," replied some of the boys; but I am free to say that they hoped he would not give them fair play until they had spent a week or more in camp.

"Now, fellows, we will see how we stand, and make arrangements for the future. We have boats and tents, and these are about all we have. We have provisions enough for supper and breakfast. We must get a supply of eatables to-night or in the morning. It will require money, but I suppose all of you have some; at any rate, I told you to bring your money with you, if you had any."

Most of the boys had some funds, which had been saved from their pocket money for a Fourth of July Celebration, planned months before.

"We need some officers, and as I don't believe in one-man power, I shall ask you to elect them. Please to nominate a treasurer."

"George Weston!" shouted one of the students.

"George Weston is nominated. All in favor of his election will manifest it by raising the right hand."

It was a unanimous vote, and the nominee was declared elected.

"Now we want to raise the money, we need to buy provisions, fairly. If any one will make a motion, it will be in order," added the chairman.

The Parkville Debating Society, an association connected with the Institute, had fully educated the students in parliamentary forms, and they were entirely "at home" in the business before them.

"I move you, Mr. Chairman, that each fellow be assessed fifty cents for expenses," said one of the students.

The motion was put and carried; and after Fred Mason had been elected clerk, the treasurer was instructed to collect the assessments forthwith. The next business was the selection of a commissary, and Tom Rush was chosen to this important office.

"Mr. Chairman, I nominate Ernest Thornton for commodore of our squadron," said Bob Hale; and, though the nomination created some merriment, on account of the high-sounding title of the officer, the vote was unanimous.

"I accept, Mr. Chairman; but I should prefer to be called simply the boatman," I replied.

"That won't do!" exclaimed Bob. "Ernest is to have charge of all the boats, including the scow, and I am in favor of calling him commodore."

"We won't dispute about titles," laughed Vallington; "but the boats are all under Thornton's charge. I advise the commissary to consult with the commodore, immediately, in regard to procuring a supply of provisions for the company."

The rest of the business was soon completed. As an indication of the spirit of the boys, it was voted that the place should be called "Camp Fair Play." Vallington announced that six boys should be chosen each day to do the cooking and serve out the provision; that a watch should be kept around the camp night and day, to prevent a surprise from Mr. Parasyte and his forces; and that all work should be fairly divided among the students, with the exception of those who had been elected to offices. The boys then separated; and those who had been detailed to pitch the tents commenced their work.

"Commodore," said Tom Rush, laughing at the title.

"Mr. Commissary," I replied.

"Good! We are even, except that you are a bigger officer than I am."

"What can I do for you?"

"About the provisions—how shall we get them?"

"In the boats, of course," I replied.

"Do you think it will be quite safe for us to go back to Parkville?"

"We won't go there. It is only about six miles to Cannondale, on the other side of the lake. I think we had better go to-night, for we don't know what will happen to-morrow."

"That's a capital idea! I was thinking how awkward it would be to answer the questions that would be asked of us in Parkville. To-night it is. How many of us shall go?"

"Only you and I. The Splash will carry a good load. What are you going to buy?"

"We must live cheap," replied the commissary.

"I think we will bring off hams, potatoes, and bread or crackers."

"Those will be good feed. I advise you to make out a list of what you will want."

"I will do so."

"But we need not buy everything we want. The lake is full of fish, and I know just where to catch them."

"That's first rate," added Tom, with enthusiasm. "But it will take a heap of fish to feed all the fellows."

"I have caught a boat-load of lake bass and salmon trout in a day. I will agree to catch fish enough to feed the crowd for a week. But the fellows will want something besides fish to eat. Potatoes are cheap, and so are pork and bacon."

"When shall we start?"

"The sooner we go the better. We have no time to spare. There is a good wind now, and we may not have it much longer. I will land you at Cannondale in an hour; and if the breeze holds, we shall return by nine o'clock."

Tom Rush went to the treasurer to procure the funds he had collected, and hastened down to the Splash; but before the commissary joined me, a messenger came from Vallington to inform me that the lookouts on the bluff at the southerly end of the island had discovered a boat pulling towards the camp. I had a small spy-glass in one of the lockers of the Splash, with which I repaired to the bluff, to ascertain who the intended visitors could be.

"I suppose that boat bodes trouble to the camp," said the leader.

"I think it does, for it contains Mr. Parasyte and Deputy Sheriff Greene," I replied, after examining the boat through the glass.



CHAPTER XIV.

IN WHICH ERNEST IS WAITED UPON BY A DEPUTY SHERIFF.

We had no means of knowing the object of Mr. Parasyte's visit to Camp Fair Play—whether he was coming to make a treaty of peace, or to declare and carry on the war. The boat in which he was approaching was a hired one, rowed by the two men who worked for him. His force was sufficient to do us a great deal of mischief; and the questions as to what he would, and what he could do, were full of interest to us. Four men are a formidable force to any number of boys; and the fact that Sheriff Greene was one of the party added to the seriousness of the visitation.

"What can they do?" asked Vallington. "We can at least prepare for possibilities."

"They can take the boats from us," answered Bob Hale, "and leave us here to be starved into submission."

"It would be awkward to be obliged to return to the academy like whipped puppies; but I suppose we could be starved into it."

"We will look out for that," I added.

"How can you help it?"

"Leave that to me," I replied, as I hastened down to the landing-place, where I summoned my boatmen for service.

We took the three row-boats out of the water, and carried them some distance from the shore, hiding them in the bushes. The Splash was too large to be carried far; but we took her out of the water, and put her high and dry on the island. A force of twenty students had been placed under my command, and with a little engineering we made easy work even of these heavy jobs. The rudder of the sail-boat was unshipped, and concealed, so that she would be useless to the invaders, if they attempted to carry her off. There was no fear that they would try to tow the scow back to Parkville; for in doing this their punishment would be too severe.

Having accomplished my work, I returned to the headland where Vallington had his headquarters, just as Mr. Parasyte's boat touched the shore below.

"We are all right now," I remarked to the leader.

"The boats are secure—are they?"

"They are."

"Very well; then we are ready to receive our visitors. I will appoint a committee of three to wait upon them and invite them to our headquarters."

Three students were detailed for this duty, and they descended the bluff. Mr. Parasyte and the deputy sheriff followed them up the bank, where Vallington was ready to receive them in state, supported by his officers. The parson had instructed the rebels to treat our visitors with the utmost politeness, and enjoined them not to insult or annoy Mr. Parasyte. This was good advice, for some of the boys would have been glad to duck him in the lake, or to subject him to other indignities, now that they had the power to do so.

The principal of the Parkville Liberal Institute had doubtless been very angry when he returned to the school, and found that a "breaking away" had taken place; but he had cooled off during his passage over the lake, and now he looked troubled and anxious, rather than angry. As he walked towards the spot where the officers of the camp stood, he gazed curiously around him; but he said nothing.

"Vallington, I am very much surprised to find you with this party," were the first words he spoke, as he discovered our leader, standing on his dignity, a little in advance of his supporters.

"Considering the circumstances, Mr. Parasyte, I am not at all surprised to find myself here," replied the parson. "If it were a mere frolic for the love of mischief, I should not be here. I presume you come on business, sir."

"On business!" exclaimed the principal, apparently taken aback by the remarks of Vallington. "I did come on business."

"You will oblige me by stating it, sir. I have been chosen the leader of this company, and I represent the students here assembled."

"My business is to order you back to the Institute," continued Mr. Parasyte, becoming a little excited by the independent manner of our leader.

"In behalf of those whom I represent, I must decline to obey the order—at least for the present."

The eye of the deputy sheriff twinkled as he listened to these speeches. He seemed to regard the affair as a big joke, and to appreciate it accordingly. Though none of us had ever had any official relations with him, we knew him as what all the people called "a good fellow," witty, jovial, and never severe even in the discharge of his duties. It is more than probable that he knew Mr. Parasyte as the boys knew him, and despised him accordingly. At any rate, we judged from the expression on his round face, that he was at heart on our side, however his official position might compel him to act.

"I am sorry, boys, that you have engaged in this rebellion, for it will not be pleasant for me to compel obedience," continued Mr. Parasyte, struggling to repress his anger.

"I am sorry, also, that we have been compelled to take this unpleasant stand," replied Vallington, with dignity. "If you are willing to hear it, sir, I should like to state the position of the boys in this matter. Perhaps the difficulty can be arranged; if it can, we will at once return to the Institute."

"If there are any real abuses, I am willing to correct them. I will hear what you have to say."

Vallington briefly rehearsed the grievances of the boys, and demanded that Thornton should be restored to all his privileges, without punishment, and that Mr. Hardy should be reengaged.

Mr. Parasyte turned red in the face, and bit his lips with anger and vexation.

"Are you the principal of the Parkville Liberal Institute, or am I?" said he, when the parson had finished.

"Neither of us, I think, as the matter now stands, sir."

"I see that you are determined to defy me," added Mr. Parasyte. "You ask me to restore Thornton without punishment of any kind. Are you aware that he assaulted me with a deadly weapon?"

"We are aware that he defended himself when assaulted."

"Assaulted!" gasped Mr. Parasyte, astounded to hear his own act called by such a name. "Are you aware of the powers which the law lodges in the hands of the teacher?"

"I am."

"Thornton refused to obey me; and, at his uncle's request, I intended to enforce obedience. It was my duty to do so."

"May I inquire, Mr. Parasyte, in what Thornton refused to obey you?" asked Vallington, in the gentlest of tones.

"I required him to apologize to Poodles privately, and to me publicly. He refused to do so."

"I told Mr. Parasyte that I would apologize to him," I interposed, addressing our leader.

"That wasn't enough," replied the principal.

"At the time, sir, you knew Poodles had confessed that he alone was to blame for the affair on the pier. Thornton was innocent; and it had been fairly proved to you that he was innocent. Poodles himself assured you of the fact, and his evidence was fully confirmed by Pearl. In the face of this overwhelming proof, you attempted to flog Thornton into apologizing for that of which you knew he was not guilty. No boy with a soul would submit to be flogged under such circumstances. I would not, and I have no respect for any fellow that would. No boy was ever yet flogged in the Institute, and it was an outrage to attempt such a thing."

Vallington was quite eloquent, and Mr. Parasyte actually quailed as he poured out his feelings in well-chosen words, and with an emphasis which forced their meaning home to the heart. The tyrant had gone too far to recede. He did what weak, low-minded men always do under such circumstances—he got furiously angry, and delivered himself in abusive terms. He declared that Poodles and Pearl had been frightened into their confession, and persisted in saying that I had caused the quarrel on the pier.

"But it is no use to reason with you. I am going to compel obedience now. If you will not mind, I shall make you mind," foamed he, stamping the ground in his rage.

"We have nothing to say, sir, except that we shall defend ourselves from assaults of all kinds," added Vallington.

"Assaults! How dare you use that word to me! I am in the lawful exercise of my authority as the principal of the Parkville Liberal Institute. You were committed to my care by your parents, and I shall do my duty by you. As to Thornton, his case shall be settled by the court. Mr. Greene, you have a warrant for his arrest."

"Yes, I have," replied the deputy sheriff, with a broad grin.

"That's the boy," continued Mr. Parasyte, furiously, as he pointed to me.

My companions were evidently disconcerted, as I certainly was, by this action of Mr. Parasyte. They had got up the rebellion on my account directly, though indirectly on their own, and it would be a sad defeat to have me carried off by an officer of the law. Mr. Greene walked up to me, still wearing his smiling face.

"Well, Ernest, I am sorry for you; but I suppose I must do my duty. I have a warrant for your arrest."

"I shall not resist," I replied.

"You shall have fair play."

"That's all I want."

"I am sorry to take you away," he added, in a low tone; "for, between you and me, I think the boys have the rights of the matter; but I can't help serving the warrant."

"Put him in irons, Mr. Greene. He is a violent fellow," said Mr. Parasyte, savagely.

"I shall not do that," replied the sheriff. "I can handle him without any irons."

"Mr. Greene," interposed Vallington, "will you allow me to look at your warrant?"

"Certainly, if you want to."

"Don't do it, Mr. Greene!" shouted Mr. Parasyte.

"Don't be so grouty, sir. The young gentleman may see it, if he wants to do so," replied the sheriff, with a broad grin on his fat face, as he handed the warrant to the parson. "I don't belong to your school, Mr. Parasyte, and I suppose I can do as I please."

The principal bit his lip again; and Vallington glanced at the legal document.

"This warrant speaks about 'our county of Adieno,'" said the leader. "Are you aware, Mr. Greene, that this island is not in the county of Adieno?"

"No! Isn't it though?" laughed the sheriff.

"It certainly is not," added Vallington, returning the warrant to the sheriff.

"What odds does that make?" demanded Mr. Parasyte, angrily. "The offence was committed in Adieno county."

"Well, I don't know," said the sheriff. "I don't want to do anything that isn't lawful. It may be right to take him here; but I'm not sure, you see."

"That is absurd, Mr. Greene."

"I haven't been a deputy sheriff but about six months, and I'm not fully posted yet. We'll go back to Parkville, and if I find it's all right, I'll come over and arrest Ernest to-morrow. That will be soon enough."

Mr. Greene seemed to be the happiest person on the island; and Mr. Parasyte was so angry he could hardly contain himself.



CHAPTER XV.

IN WHICH ERNEST AND THE COMMISSARY VISIT CANNONDALE.

Mr. Parasyte, angry as he was, had sense enough left to see that he could accomplish nothing by remaining longer at Camp Fair Play. The spirit of freedom that prevailed there was unsuitable to his constitution.

"'I go, but I return,'" said he, in the language of Catiline to the Roman senate.

"When you return we shall receive you with all due respect, Mr. Parasyte," said Harry Vallington.

Mr. Greene chuckled, and shook his fat sides with suppressed mirth; and it was plain the principal had a very doubtful ally in the person of the deputy sheriff. And the ill-mated pair walked towards the landing, where we saw them embark, and leave the shore.

"Mr. Parasyte has more pluck than I gave him credit for," said Bob Hale, after we had silently watched the departure of the boat. "Isn't it a pity a man who knows so much, and is such a good teacher, should be a tyrant?"

"He is intellectually great and morally little," added the parson, with a savor of the cloth he was destined to wear. "He has always been politic, and we have felt his tyranny only in little things, which are all the more mean because they are small. He is now fully roused; he is too obstinate to back out, even when he knows and feels that he is in the wrong; and now he will lay policy aside. I tell you, fellows, you must make up your minds for a hard battle, for Mr. Parasyte is in earnest. He will leave no stone unturned to reduce us to subjection; and if I mistake not, 'breaking away' will prove to be no joke. If any of the students feel like giving up, now is the best time to take the back track, for the farther we go the deeper in the mire we shall be. If there are any who are sick of their bargain, they had better say so now."

"No!" "No!" "No!" shouted the boys, till the sound became a unanimous voice.

"I see you are all of one mind," continued Vallington. "I deem it right to tell you now that, in my opinion, Mr. Parasyte is no contemptible foe to deal with. He will make a good deal of trouble, if he does not cause much anxiety, perhaps suffering, in our ranks."

"What can he do?" asked one of the boys.

"I don't know. He hasn't told me what he intends to do, and probably he will not," replied our chief, facetiously.

"Can't you guess?" asked another boy; and there seemed to be a general desire to anticipate the terrible things the principal would attempt in order to reduce the rebellious pupils to subjection.

"I am no Yankee, and I can't guess. I can mention several things he might do."

"Tell us, if you please!" called out one of the more timid of the boys.

"Very likely he will attempt to starve us out by surrounding the island with boats, and preventing us from obtaining provisions. He must know that we have a very small stock of eatables on hand."

"We will trust to our commodore to break his lines, if he blockades our camp," laughed Tom Rush.

"He may come with a force of men in the night, and take away the boats."

"You said we should keep a watch at night," suggested Fred Mason.

"We hope the commodore will be able to protect his squadron," said Bob Hale.

"I shall do my best to insure the safety of the boats, or to run the blockade, if one is established," I replied, with becoming modesty; and in fact I was getting so excited over the prospect, that I rather hoped there would be an attempt to blockade us, or to carry off the boats, that I might have an opportunity to exercise my talent for navigation and strategy.

"And Mr. Parasyte may collect a force, and come over to capture the whole of us. He can charge us with stealing his boats, or something of that sort. He has already obtained a warrant for the arrest of Thornton, and to have him taken away from us would be about the worst thing that could happen," said Vallington.

"We will not let them take him," interposed a belligerent student.

"What will you do?"

"Pitch the sheriff overboard," replied the spunky speaker.

"That will not do," I added. "I hope no fellow will think of such a thing as resisting an officer of the law."

"No, that wouldn't do," continued Vallington. "If Mr. Greene could not arrest Thornton because he was out of his county, Mr. Parasyte will get a sheriff from the proper county to do the job."

"That's so," said Bob Hale. "He will do his worst, you may depend upon that."

"I have an idea!" I shouted, under the inspiration of my new thought; and it really seemed to me like a brilliant suggestion.

"What is it?" demanded our leader.

"Suppose we change our quarters?"

"Where shall we go?"

"To Pine Island. It is about seven miles from here, or nine miles and a half from Parkville," I answered.

"What shall we gain by moving?" asked Vallington, deeply interested in my proposition.

"Several things. We are now six miles from Cannondale, where we must procure our provisions, while Pine Island is less than three."

"That's a decided advantage, if we are to be starved out," added the commissary.

"It is so far from Parkville that our movements could not be observed from the shore," I continued. "And Pine Island is at least four times as large as Cleaver Island, which would make it four times as difficult to blockade."

"Pine Island! Pine Island!" shouted the rebels, in concert, as they began to perceive the advantages of the proposed location.

"If the fellows don't object to working a part or the whole of the night, we might be in our new quarters before morning; and if we keep a good lookout, we may stay there two or three days before Mr. Parasyte finds out where we are."

"Pine Island! Pine Island!" was the chorus which came from the throng of boys, all of whom had gathered near the bluff.

"Those in favor of moving to-night, say ay," continued Vallington.

"Ay!" shouted the students, with one voice.

"Those opposed, say no."

There was not a dissenting voice.

"It is a unanimous vote," added the leader. "Commodore Thornton, you are charged with the execution of this order, and you will make your preparations accordingly."

"But what shall we do for provisions?" asked the commissary, troubled about the proper administration of the affairs of his department. "We must have something to eat before dinner-time to-morrow; and if we are to keep out of sight, I don't see how we are to get anything."

"Perhaps Commodore Thornton can afford us some information on that subject," said Vallington. "Our safety and success depend mainly upon the vulgar things which the stomach requires."

"There is a good breeze now, General Vallington, and—"

The students interrupted me with a hearty laugh at the new title I had given to the parson.

"A truce to titles," laughed our leader.

"You call me commodore, and I think it is no more than fair that I should give you your proper title."

"But you were duly elected commodore of our squadron."

"Mr. Chairman, I move that Henry Vallington be created general-in-chief of all our forces, by sea and by land," I continued.

"Second the motion," added Bob Hale. "I call upon the secretary to put the question."

The question was put by Fred Mason, and carried, unanimously.

"I am very much obliged to you for the honor you have conferred upon me; but we can hardly afford the time now to talk about titles. You were going to say something about the breeze, Commodore Thornton."

"I say that there is a good breeze now, General Vallington; and I think, if the commissary is ready, we can reach Cannondale in the Splash by nine o'clock. It is half past seven now," I replied, looking at my watch.

"The commissary is all ready," said Tom Rush.

"What time shall you return?" asked the general.

"By eleven or twelve. I think the fellows had better turn in, and sleep till we return," I suggested. "There will be time enough then to load the scow, and reach the island by daylight."

The general approved of this idea, but was afraid the boys were too much excited to sleep. I called those who had been detailed to serve as boatmen to assist in putting the Splash into the water, and, with Tom Rush alone, started for Cannondale. The breeze was fresh, and before the time I had mentioned we landed at our destination.

Since I had owned the Splash, I had spent all my vacations and holidays, and indeed all my spare time every week day when boating was practicable, on the lake. A spirit of adventure had prompted me to make long trips, and I had sometimes spent half the night in my lonely cruises. The darkness, therefore, was not an obstacle with me to the navigation of those familiar waters. I knew every point, headland, bay, and inlet, at midnight as well as noonday.

Lake Adieno, though a fresh-water lake, was not always the smoothest of navigation. Its shores were nearly level land, and there was nothing to shelter it from the blasts when the wind blew; and, with an uninterrupted reach of twenty miles from east to west, old Boreas had room enough to kick up quite a heavy sea. In a strong north-west or south-west wind, boating on the lake was no child's play.

We landed at Cannondale, and secured the Splash at the steamboat pier. For several years I had purchased the groceries for the cottage of my uncle; and since I had owned the sail-boat, I had as often procured them at Cannondale as at Parkville, and I was nearly as familiar with the streets of the former as with those of the latter.

We found a grocer and a provision-dealer, of whom Tom Rush purchased the supplies we needed. Of the former the commissary purchased ten kegs of crackers, and a variety of small stores, and of the latter sixteen hams, twenty pounds of salt pork, and twelve bushels of potatoes. At the baker's we obtained all the soft bread on hand—about a hundred loaves. These articles amounted to more than the assessments levied on the members, but Tom and I made up the balance. The provision-dealer harnessed his horse and carted the stores down to the pier; and, grateful for the patronage we had given him, and the cash paid him, he asked no troublesome questions; and we simply told him that the goods were for the school, which was then camping out.

The Splash was loaded to her utmost capacity, and we decided to land the stores at Pine Island before we returned to our companions.



CHAPTER XVI.

IN WHICH ERNEST CONVEYS THE STUDENTS TO PINE ISLAND.

We landed the provisions at Pine Island, and being still favored with a fresh breeze, made a quick run over to Cleaver Island. It was bright moonlight now, and very pleasant sailing on the lake. As we approached the landing-place, I discovered a row-boat pulling round the point below. My first thought was, that Mr. Parasyte was paying a second visit to the camp, intent upon carrying out the threats he had uttered.

"Can you make her out, Ernest?" asked Tom.

"It is a boat full of men or boys—I don't know which," I replied. "We will run down to her, and see what she is."

"It may be Parasyte."

"Very likely it is," I added, heading the Splash towards the intruder.

"What shall we do if it is?"

"I don't know that we can do anything but keep an eye upon him. I have a great mind to serve him as he did me yesterday—run him down, and sink his boat; but I won't do it."

I decided, however, to give him a scare; and with all sail drawing well, the Splash going through the water at a rapid rate, I ran directly for the row-boat. When we came within a few feet of the intruders, the fate that stared them in the face was too much for their nerves. They sprang to their feet, and begged me not to run them down. It was a startling scene for them; but at that moment I put the helm up, and ran astern of the row-boat, just grazing her as we went by.

"Boat ahoy!" I shouted as I put the helm down, and the Splash came up into the wind on the other side of the row-boat.

"Don't run into us," said one of the boys in the boat, whose voice I recognized as that of Bill Poodles; and by this time I had found that Mr. Parasyte was not one of the party.

"Who are you?" demanded Tom Rush.



"It's me," replied Poodles.

"Who's me?"

It was a disgrace to the Parkville Liberal Institute that any member of the school should use such execrable grammar, and we were not quite willing to believe that the party were fellow-students, with the exception of Poodles, from whom nothing better in the shape of correct speech was to be expected.

"I'm Bill Poodles—don't you know me?"

"Bill Poodles!" exclaimed Tom, in disgust. "What do you want here?"

"We have come over to see you," said another in the boat, whose voice was that of Dick Pearl.

"Well, what do you want?"

"We want to join you," answered Pearl.

"I don't know that we want you. Have you any news from the shore?" added Tom.

"We can tell you all that has happened since you left. We ran away after supper to join you," said Pearl. "If you will let us in, we will do all we can to help you."

"I don't know; I will speak to the general, and if he is willing, you may join; but you can't go ashore till he gives you leave."

Pearl, who seemed to be the leading spirit of the recruits, promised to wait off the shore till Vallington had been informed of his request, and his answer returned. The Splash filled away, and we landed at the point where the scow lay. We found that our enterprising general had not been idle during our absence. The tents had been struck, and the materials put on board the flat-boat. Everything was ready for the departure to Pine Island.

The approach of the row-boat had been noticed by the vigilant sentinels on the bluff, and the whole company had watched our interview with the new comers. Tom Rush reported on the case to our general, and it was necessary to act upon the request of the party for admission to the camp. In this matter there was less unanimity than had before been manifested, and several of the students were opposed to granting the request. Bob Hale was the most earnest among them, and declared that Bill Poodles, Dick Pearl, and the rest of the party could not be trusted; they were mean fellows, and we should be better off without them than with them. They were the "creatures" of Mr. Parasyte, and they would make trouble if we admitted them.

It would have been well for us if this advice had been heeded, as the sequel will show; but it was not. Some of our best declaimers urged that there was power in mere numbers; and the strength of an harmonious union was yielded to this idea. The vote was in favor of permitting the recruits to be received; but a very respectable minority voted against it. Bob cheerfully surrendered the point, and Poodles and his companions were invited to land. When they came on shore, Vallington questioned them in regard to their intentions. They all made fair promises, and assured the general they would be good and faithful subjects.

Tom Rush had reported on the provision question, and gladdened the hearts of all the fellows when he stated what bountiful supplies of ham, bread, potatoes, and coffee had been deposited on Pine Island for the use of the party.

"Now, we are all ready to move," said Vallington. "The boats are all loaded, and we submit the rest of the job to the skill of Commodore Thornton."

"Move!" exclaimed Dick Pearl, and in the bright moonlight I saw him glance anxiously at Poodles.

"We have decided to break up our camp here and move to Pine Island."

"Be you?" said Poodles.

"We be," answered Vallington.

"If we had known it, I don't know that we should have come," added Pearl.

"What possible difference can it make to you whether we camp at Pine Island or at Cleaver Island?"

"I don't know."

"It is too late to back out now; you have found out where we are going, and you must go with us, to help keep the secret," said our general, decidedly.

Pearl and Poodles looked at each other, and evidently wished to consult together; but there was no opportunity.

For my own part, I was not satisfied with their conduct, and I determined to keep a close watch upon them; for it seemed to me, from their appearance, that they intended to make mischief. I whispered my suspicions to Vallington, who thought it was well enough to keep an eye upon them; but he did not believe ten such fellows as they were would attempt to interfere with the plans of the company. I assured him Pearl was a smart fellow, and under his lead the party might make trouble.

As the wind was not only fresh, but fair for our passage to Pine Island, I rigged one of the tent poles as a mast for the flat-boat, intending to save the boys the hard labor of towing her seven miles. I secured another pole across the mast for a yard, to which I bent on the canvas of one of the tents for a sail. There was a heavy steering oar in the boat, which answered the purpose of a rudder. Having adjusted all this gear to my satisfaction, we pushed off, and I took my station at the helm of the flat-boat, which was crowded with boys.

I appointed Bob Hale, who had some experience as a boatman, to the charge of the Splash, though, as a matter of prudence, I directed him to set only the jib and mainsail. The row-boats were towed alongside the scow. The sail fully answered all my expectations, and the old "gundalow" actually made about three knots an hour under her new rig. The students stretched themselves on the tents, and very likely some of them went to sleep, for it was now two o'clock in the morning, and most of them were tired out, and gaped fearfully.

It was daylight when we ran into the little sheltered bay where we had landed the goods from the Splash. It was quite chilly in the morning air, and the fellows were glad of the exercise required to unload the scow and pitch the tents. But in a couple of hours the work was done, and the weary laborers were glad enough to stretch themselves on the beds of pine foliage in the tents. All the boats were hauled into an inlet, where they could not be seen by any passing craft on the lake, and I felt that everything was safe.

Everybody was worn out, and I think everybody went to sleep, even to the sentinels, who were stationed where they could give notice of the approach of any intruders. I was so exhausted myself that I should have slept if I had known all the deputy sheriffs in the state had been after me. And there we all lay till noon, buried in slumber. And when we awoke there appeared to be no life anywhere but on the island. The lake was calm and silent, and from the distant shores not a sound came to disturb us.

When the boys did wake they were wide awake, and immediately voted that "breaking away" was a capital idea. It was then unanimously resolved that it was time to have something to eat. The boys had had some experience in the culinary art in previous campaigns, and we had all the pots, kettles, and pans provided for such occasions. A fire was made in the woods, near the centre of the island, where it was hoped the smoke would not betray us, and potatoes and ham were soon hissing in the pans. About twenty of the students were employed in this work,—peeling potatoes, and preparing the pork and bacon,—while only four of the most experienced were intrusted with the care of the actual cooking. We had a big meal, though we had no knives and forks, or plates. The company was divided into messes of ten each, there being one large tin pan for each, from which the boys took the "grub" with sharpened sticks or jackknives. We enjoyed it quite as much as we did our dinners at the Institute.

We passed a quiet day, without interruption from within or without. We neither saw nor heard anything from Mr. Parasyte, and the Poodles party behaved better than we had expected, so that we had learned to trust them. The necessary work of the camp was all we could do, and when night came we were glad to turn in at an early hour, for we had not yet fully recovered from the fatigues of the previous day and night.

It was ordered by the general-in-chief that the watch during the night should be relieved every two hours, and that three should be on duty at once. A sufficient number of the company were detailed for this purpose, and a tent apart from the rest assigned to them, that others might not be disturbed when the watch was changed. How faithfully this watch performed their duty we learned from the developments of the next day.

I turned out about five o'clock in the morning, intending to try my hand at fishing with Bob Hale and Tom Rush. We went down to the inlet where the squadron had been secured, to obtain one of the row-boats.

There was not a boat there!

Even the old scow had disappeared, and the Splash was nowhere to be seen!



CHAPTER XVII.

IN WHICH ERNEST FINDS THERE IS TREASON IN THE CAMP.

What had become of the boats? I was a commodore without a squadron, and I felt so cheap that I would have sold out my commission for sixpence, and thrown myself in. The boats had been carefully secured, under my own direction, in the little inlet, and they could not have drifted away, I looked at Bob Hale, and Bob Hale looked at me; but neither of us could explain the disappearance of the fleet.

"An enemy hath done this," I began, in Scripture phrase.

"Of course it couldn't have been done by a friend," added Tom Rush. "It's lucky we have a good stock of provisions on hand."

"But the stock won't last forever," suggested Bob.

"We are not going to be starved out in a week, or a year, for that matter," I interposed. "We are not to be broken up by any such accident as this."

"The commodore is spunky," laughed Bob, who was always good-natured, whatever happened.

"I am not to be put down by any such expedient as this taking away the boats. When I want to visit the main shore, I shall do so, boat or no boat," I replied; for I already saw how I could counteract the misfortune of the loss of our squadron.

"Parasyte has snuffed us out, I suppose, and sent a party up here in the night to take the boats," continued Bob Hale. "He means to starve us out."

"He will discover his mistake. But let us take a look round the island; perhaps we may find out what has become of the boats;" and I led the way to the nearest point, at which a sentinel had been stationed.

The student on watch there knew nothing of the absence of the boats. There had been no alarm given at the guard tent. We walked around the island without obtaining any information of the lost squadron. We reported the mishap to Vallington, who was both surprised and indignant.

The occupants of the guard tent were all turned out, and those who had been on watch during the night were examined; but none of them knew anything about the boats. They had not heard any noise during the night, or seen anything on the lake. The general then mustered the company, and after stating what had occurred, called for any information; but no one had any to give.

"Where is Bill Poodles?" suddenly demanded Bob Hale, as he glanced around among the students.

"He is not here," replied Tom Rush, after he had scrutinized all the faces.

"And Dick Pearl?"

"Not here."

"Is any of the party that came off that night present?" demanded the general.

"No," answered several, after each fellow had looked his neighbor full in the face.

"That's what's the matter!" exclaimed Bob Hale. "Bill Poodles and the rest of them have run away with the boats; and in my opinion that's what they joined us for."

A further examination convinced all present that this was the fact. It looked as though Mr. Parasyte had sent off the ten boys who joined us on the first night, to rob us of the boats. We remembered the dismay with which Pearl and Poodles had listened to the announcement of our intended removal from Cleaver Island, and were fully confirmed in our view of the traitors' purpose.

We found that the conspirators had all occupied the same tent, and one of the fellows who slept with them now remembered that he had half waked up, and heard Dick Pearl talking in a low tone to some one. Vallington called up the sentinels again, and spoke pretty sharply to them of their neglect of duty.

"It would have been impossible for them to carry off the boats if you had been awake; and now you have got us into a pretty scrape. We shall have to back out, and march back to the Institute like whipped puppies," said he, with becoming indignation.

But the sentinels protested that they had kept awake all the time.

"Tell that to a dead mule, and he would kick your brains out," replied the general. "Who stood at the south station?"

"I did from ten till twelve," answered Joe Slivers; "and I am sure no boat went out of the cove during that time."

"And who from twelve till two?" continued the general.

No one answered.

"Who was it—don't you know?" demanded Vallington, sternly.

"I know," replied Ben Lyons. "It was Carl Dorner, for I had the north station at the same time."

"Carl Dorner!" exclaimed Bob Hale. "He was one of the Poodles party."

"That accounts for it," added Vallington. "Who had the east station from twelve till two?"

"Mat Murray," replied Slivers.

"He's another of the Poodles tribe," added Bob. "It's as clear as mud now. We put traitors on guard, and we are sold out."

"Ben Lyons, you had the north station from twelve till two," continued the general.

"I did; but I was nearly half a mile from the cove," replied the sentinel.

"And Carl Dorner and Mat Murray had the east and south stations at the same time."

"They did."

"Who called the fellows that were to relieve you?"

"I did," answered Lyons.

"Didn't you miss Dorner and Murray?"

"I didn't notice them; but I did see the three fellows who went on guard at two o'clock. They started for their stations, and I turned in, without thinking anything about Dorner and Murray."

It further appeared that the two traitors had used some "shuffling" to obtain the east and south stations. It was evident now that the conspirators had executed their plan shortly after midnight, while their associates were on guard at the two posts where their operations could be seen or heard. The south station was on a point of land which commanded a full view of the cove where the boats lay. From the east station the lake in the direction of Parkville and Cannondale could be seen. From the north station, which was considerably farther west than either of the other posts, nothing could be seen on the south side of the island.

If the conspirators had gone to the eastward with the boats, they could easily have kept out of sight of the sentinel at the north station—the only true one on duty when the mischief was done—by hugging the main south shore of the lake. If they had gone to the westward, or farther away from Parkville,—which was not likely,—they could not have been seen by Ben Lyons till they had gone at least a mile.