\ 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^/saaN^
 
 In School and Out 
 
 OR 
 
 The Conquest of Richard Grant 
 
 A STORY FOR YOUNG PEOPLB 
 
 i A /? / ;?; -2 
 
 By OLIVER OPTIC 
 
 . : The Boat Club," "All Aboard," " Now or Never," 
 :' . Again," " Poor and Proud," "Little by Little," 
 "Rich and Humble, "etc. 
 
 A. L. BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS 
 NEW YORK
 
 TO 
 
 EDWARD JENKINS HOWE 
 
 THIS BOOK 
 IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 
 
 BY His UNCLE
 
 PREFACE 
 
 THE second volume of the Woodville Stories 
 contains the experience of Richard Grant, "in 
 school and out." We are sorry to say that Rich- 
 ard had become a bad boy, and was in the habit of 
 getting into the most abominable scrapes, some of 
 which are detailed in the first chapters of this book. 
 But he is not what is sometimes called a vicious 
 boy, for he has many good qualities which redeem 
 him from absolute condemnation. There is some- 
 thing noble in his character, which is the germ of 
 his ultimate salvation from the sins which so easily 
 beset him. 
 
 Richard, like thousands of others, finds his 
 strongest and most dangerous foe within his own 
 heart; and the conquest he achieves is not a triumph 
 of mind over matter, of force over force, but of 
 principle over passion, of the good angels in the 
 heart over the invading legion of evil ones.
 
 2 PREFACE 
 
 Richard's experience is full of stirring incidents; 
 and while the author hopes therein to realize the 
 expectations of his partial young friends, he begs 
 them to remember that these exciting events are 
 only the canvas upon which he has endeavored to 
 paint the great change wrought in the character of 
 the hero. There is a moral in the story, and though 
 the author has not attempted to "point" it, he 
 hopes his young readers will feel it, even if they do 
 not see it. 
 
 Again it affords me pleasure to acknowledge my 
 indebtedness to my young friends for the kind re- 
 ception given to my books. I trust that this, the 
 twentieth volume of my "Stories for Young Peo- 
 ple," will not disappoint their hopes, or fail to im- 
 prove their minds and hearts. 
 
 WILLIAM T. ADAMS. 
 DORCHESTER, Oct. 26, 1863.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 RICHARD GRANT AND FRIEND GET INTO AN AWFUL 
 SCRAPE 
 
 "Now, steady as she is," said Sandy Brimble- 
 com, who lay upon the half-deck of the Greyhound, 
 endeavoring to peer through the darkness of a 
 cloudy night, which had settled deep and dense 
 upon the Hudson, and obscured every object on 
 the shore. "Steady as she is, Dick, and we shall 
 go in all right." 
 
 "Ay, ay; steady it is," replied Richard Grant, 
 who was at the helm. 
 
 "Port a little! Port a little!" added Sandy, a 
 few moments after, as he discovered the entrance 
 of a little inlet, which was the destination of the 
 Greyhound.
 
 4 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "Shut up your head, Sandy!" replied Richard, 
 in a low but energetic tone. "You might as well 
 publish our plan in the newspaper as speak as loud 
 as that." 
 
 "Port a little more," said the lookout forward. 
 
 "What's the use of hallooing port?" answered 
 Richard impatiently. "Don't you see the mainsail 
 shakes now?" 
 
 "You will be on the rocks in half a minute 
 more." 
 
 "Let her go about, then, and we will get a little 
 farther to windward before we try to run in." 
 
 The Greyhound came over on the other tack, and 
 stood away from the shore a considerable distance. 
 The wind was very light, and the current was 
 against them ; so the progress of the boat was neces- 
 sarily very slow. 
 
 "Now, Sandy Brimblecom," said Richard, when 
 the boat had made a third of the distance to the 
 opposite shore, "we might as well go back to Wcod- 
 ville, and go to bed, as to attempt to carry this 
 thing through, if you are going to bellow and yell 
 like a mad bull"
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 5 
 
 "I didn't think I spoke very loud," replied 
 Sandy. 
 
 "Didn't think so!" sneered Richard. "Any one 
 might have heard you clear across the river." 
 
 "Oh, no, Dick; not so bad as that." 
 
 "You spoke too loud, at any rate, and you might 
 as well go up and tell 'Old Batterbones' what we 
 are about as talk half so loud as you did." 
 
 "Come, Dick, you have said enough," replied 
 Sandy, who did not relish all the reflections that 
 were cast upon his conduct. 
 
 "You are as stupid as an owl; I thought you 
 had some common sense." 
 
 "That'll do, Dick; I don't want any more of 
 that kind of blarney; and if you don't shut up, 
 you or I will get a black eye." 
 
 Richard did not seem to have much doubt which 
 of them would obtain this ornamental tinting of 
 the physiognomy, for he immediately changed his 
 tone, and did not venture to apply any more un- 
 pleasant epithets to his companion. Sandy had 
 pbtained some reputation as a fighting character
 
 6 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 and was virtually the champion of the ring among 
 the boys in the vicinity of Whitestone. 
 
 "Now be more careful this time, Sandy," said 
 Richard, as he put the boat about upon the other 
 tack. 
 
 "Don't give me any more lip, Dick, and I will 
 do anything you want," replied Sandy, mollified by 
 the altered tones of his friend. 
 
 "Don't get mad; we have no time to quarrel, if 
 we mean to put this thing through to-night." 
 
 "I am ready to put it through, but I have no 
 notion of being treated like a slave or a fool," said 
 Sandy, as he lay down upon the half-deck, and 
 began to gaze into the gloom ahead of the boat. 
 "Luff a little," he added, as he discovered the dim 
 outline of the shore. 
 
 "Luff, it is." 
 
 This time both boys spoke in a low tone, and 
 the want of harmony which a few moments before 
 had threatened to break up the enterprise, and end 
 in a game of rough and tumble, was removed. The 
 Greyhound, under the skilful management of Rich- 
 ard for there was not a better sailor of his years
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 7 
 
 on the Hudson was thrown into the inlet with- 
 out touching the rocks which lay at the entrance. 
 
 Sandy, with the painter in his hand, jumped 
 ashore, and made fast to a small tree on the bank. 
 Neither of the boys spoke a loud word, and Rich- 
 ard carefully brailed up the sails, so that their nap- 
 ping should not attract the attention of any person 
 who might be in the vicinity. 
 
 "Now, Dick, if you will follow me, I will lead 
 you up to Old Batterbones' garden," whispered 
 Sandy, wljen the sailboat had been properly se- 
 cured. 
 
 "I will follow you. Have you got the bag?" 
 
 "Yes all right." 
 
 Richard followed his companion up the steep 
 bank of the river, across a field, till they came to 
 a fence, where they paused to reconnoiter. 
 
 "Now be careful, Sandy," whispered Richard 
 nervously, "for I wouldn't be caught in this scrape 
 for the best hundred dollars that ever was." 
 
 "I don't want to be caught any more than you 
 do," replied Sandy,
 
 8 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "Well, it won't make so much difference with 
 you as it will with me." 
 
 "Won't it ! Don't you think my nack is worth 
 as much to me as yours is tb you ?" 
 
 "I don't mean that, of course. Your father is 
 a carpenter, and people won't think half so much 
 of it if you are caught as they would in my case." 
 
 "My father never was in the Tombs if he is a 
 carpenter," growled Sandy. 
 
 "That's mean," said Richard. "You know he 
 was put there for nothing at all." 
 
 "It isn't half so mean as what you said. If you 
 think you are so much better than I am, what did 
 you ask me to come with you for ?" 
 
 "I don't think I am any better than you are." 
 
 "Yes, you do; and you may go ahead with the 
 game; I won't go any farther." 
 
 "Don't back out, Sandy. Have you got scared?" 
 
 "I'm not scared; you are too big for your boots." 
 
 "No, no, Sandy; I didn't mean anything of the 
 sort." ' 
 
 "Didn't you say it wouldn't make as much dif- 
 ference with me as with you, if we got caught ?"
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 9 
 
 "I only meant that people would talk more about 
 me than they would about you." 
 
 "Perhaps they would, and perhaps they wouldn't. 
 In my opinion, I'm as good as you are, any day." 
 
 "Of course you are; I never doubted it. Come, 
 Sandy, we've run together too long to fall out 
 
 now." 
 
 "I don't want to fall out, or back out ; but I don't 
 want to be snubbed, every ten minutes, about my 
 father's being a carpenter." 
 
 "I won't say another word, Sandy. I didn't 
 mean anything." 
 
 "All right, my boy. I don't live in a big house, 
 and my father isn't rich; but I'm just as good as 
 any other fellow, for all that. If you didn't mean 
 anything, I'm satisfied." 
 
 "If I thought you were not as good as I am, of 
 course I shouldn't go with you." 
 
 This conversation was carried on in a very low 
 tone while the boys were seated by the fence. When 
 Sandy's injured honor was healed, and the son of 
 the rich broker of Woodville had acknowledged 
 that the other was his equal, they were again ready
 
 10 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 to proceed with the business of the enterprise. 
 Richard was not content with the homage which 
 his companions could render without any sacrifice 
 of self-respect, but he exacted the right not only 
 to command them, but also to be indulged in the 
 use of opprobrious epithets. 
 
 Sandy, as the "bully" of his circle, could not 
 quietly submit to the domineering style of the rich 
 man's son. He was willing, for the sake of shar- 
 ing in the "loaves and fishes" which Richard had 
 to distribute, to compromise far enough to be or- 
 dered in a gentlemanly way; but he would not tol- 
 erate any invidious comparisons. Richard had a 
 fine boat, and Sandy was very fond of sailing, which 
 made him sacrifice some portion of his dignity as 
 the champion of the ring. Richard was usually 
 well supplied with money, which was a scarce arti- 
 cle with the son of the journeyman carpenter, and 
 boys bow down to the Mammon of this world, as 
 well as men. 
 
 Richard patronized Sandy because his hard fist 
 and abundant muscle rendered him a powerful and 
 influential person. It was easier to buy the cham-
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 11 
 
 ; 
 
 pion than it was to whip him, and the broker's son 
 had conquered the bully by paying for the oysters 
 at Bob Bleeker's saloon in Whitestone, and by per- 
 mitting him to use the Greyhound when he wished. 
 Richard had a great respect for muscle. If Sandy 
 Brimblecom's father had chosen to pursue his 
 peaceful avocation in any other locality than White- 
 stone, Richard Grant might have been the cham- 
 pion of the "P. R." The advent of Sandy had 
 produced a fight, in which Richard, though he 
 behaved to the satisfaction of all his friends and 
 supporters, was severely punished. His friends 
 called it a drawn battle ; but Richard did not think 
 it advisable to have the question definitely settled, 
 and Sandy was acknowledged as the champion. 
 
 Richard respected the boy he could not whip 
 and they had become friends, or, at least, asso- 
 ciates. It is scarcely necessary to inform the intel- 
 ligent young readers of this book that the moral 
 standard of both boys was very low ; for those who 
 can fight simply to find out which is "the better 
 man" have a very inadequate conception of what 
 constitutes true dignity and nobility of character.
 
 12 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "Muscle" and "backbone" fighting ability and 
 courage in a good cause, are to be respected, and 
 men and boys will always pay them due homage; 
 but fighting for its own sake is mean, low-lived 
 business the most vicious of vices. 
 
 Sandy was satisfied with the explanation of his 
 patron, and rising from his seat under the fence, 
 he looked over into the garden, and listened for 
 any sounds which might indicate an obstacle in 
 the way of the enterprise; but not a sound could 
 be heard except the chirping of the crickets and 
 the piping of the frogs. With a great deal of care 
 he climbed to the top of the fence, and then lis- 
 tened again. 
 
 "Does he keep a dog?" whispered Richard. 
 
 "I don't know; I don't care, either," replied 
 Sandy, as he dropped from the fence into the 
 garden. 
 
 Richard climbed over with the same caution 
 which his companion had used, and after following 
 him for some distance, reached a patch of water- 
 melons, which appeared to be the destination of 
 this night expedition.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 13 
 
 "Get down on the ground!" whispered Sandy, 
 who had already prostrated himself. "You will 
 blow the whole thing if you stand up there." 
 
 "Open the bag, and let's fill it up quick!" replied 
 Richard, as he picked a large melon from the vines, 
 and handed it to the other. 
 
 "What's the use of picking such a melon as 
 that?" snarled Sandy. "It isn't ripe. Can't you 
 tell the ripe ones by the feeling ?" 
 
 "No; I can't." 
 
 "Stick your thumb nail into them. Here, you 
 take the bag, and I will pick them. We don't want 
 to lug off melons that are good for nothing." 
 
 Richard took the bag and placed the fruit in it 
 as fast as Sandy gathered it. In a few moments 
 the bag was full, and the young marauders com- 
 menced their retreat with all the haste which a 
 proper caution would permit. The bag was large 
 and heavy, and it required their united strength 
 to carry it. 
 
 The garden proved to be something like an eel 
 trap it was easy enough to get into it, but very 
 difficult to get out. Near the melon patch there
 
 1*41 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 was a piece of corn, by the side of which lay their 
 path out of the enclosure. They had gone but a 
 short distance when they heard a rustling in the 
 corn behind them, and before they could make out 
 the cause of the noise, a strong hand grasped the 
 collar of each of them. 
 
 "We've caught you, my lads!" exclaimed one of 
 the men, who had seized Richard. 
 
 It was an awful scrape : so thought the broker's 
 son; and Sandy, notwithstanding the difference in 
 their social standing, was of the same opinion.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 RICHARD JUMPS OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN INTO 
 THE FIRE 
 
 RICHARD GRANT was the son of a rich man, but 
 he was neither any better nor any worse for this 
 circumstance. He had been in a great many sad 
 scrapes before the one in which the reader now 
 finds him. It was not the first time he had taken 
 that which did not belong to him. 
 
 In his father's garden there was an abundance 
 of watermelons, and he had always been plentifully 
 supplied with all the fruits in their season. He 
 had, therefore, no excuse for stealing melons. 
 There could be no excuse, under any circumstances, 
 for stealing. He did not need them; he did not 
 even want them. 
 
 But Richard was fond of exciting adventures, 
 and it was simply the love of fun which had 
 
 prompted him to visit the garden of Mr. Batter- 
 is
 
 16 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 raaa. I hope none of my young friends will thiak 
 this even palliated his offense. If he did not have 
 the motive which actuates the common thief, he 
 was certainly more to blame than if he had needed 
 or wanted the product of his theft. Stealing for 
 fun cannot be any better than stealing from the 
 love of gain, or to provide for one's necessities. 
 
 Richard Grant is the hero of this volume; but I 
 shall not wink at any of his vices or inconsistencies 
 on this account. That he may not be utterly 
 despised, however, I may say of him that he had a 
 great many redeeming qualities. He was generous 
 to a fault, and his impulses were generally worthy 
 and noble. He was ready to give to the needy, 
 and to fight for the oppressed. He was kind- 
 hearted, and nothing but the love of sport could 
 induce him to violate the rights, or injure the feel- 
 ings, of others. He lived upon excitement, and 
 was not always very choice of the means which he 
 used to procure it. 
 
 Richard's father had not been able to bestow that 
 care upon his moral education which his tempera- 
 ment required. He needed discipline, and the
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 17 
 
 want of it was seen in his daily life. Mr. Grant 
 was conscious of the boy's needs, and he frequently 
 talked to him about his vicious course; but words 
 did not supply the want ; he required a more active 
 treatment. 
 
 Sandy Brimblecom was as little disturbed by his 
 conscience as his more wealthy companion. As 
 long as he could stand upon an equality with an 
 heir of Woodville, he was satisfied to let all moral 
 questions take care of themselves. The two boys 
 who sailed in the Greyhound on the eventful night 
 of their introduction to the reader were well mated 
 in every respect. Either was ready to follow the 
 lead of the other, without asking whether he was 
 doing right or wrong. If there was any fun to be 
 had out of the enterprise, both were ready to en- 
 gage in it. 
 
 They had got into a bad scrape this time, for 
 Mr. Batterman had the reputation of being a very 
 hard man. He had suffered a great deal from the 
 depredations of fruit thieves. He carried on a 
 large business in raising fruit and vegetables for 
 the New York market. It was not pastime to
 
 18 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 him, but bread and butter the means by which he 
 supported his family and accumulated his prop- 
 erty. Those who stole fruit from his gardens 
 robbed him of so much of his income ; and he was 
 not in the humcr to submit to these exactions. 
 
 In several instances he had taken these petty 
 marauders before the courts, and caused them to 
 be fined; but as this course did not remove the evil, 
 he had taken the law in his own hands, and severely 
 punished some of the juvenile offenders. For this 
 reason among the boys he was called "Old Batter- 
 bones," which was only a slight corruption of his 
 real name. 
 
 Of course Richard and Sandy had no idea of 
 being caught when they embarked in this plunder- 
 ing expedition. They had taken extraordinary pre- 
 cautions to prevent such a catastrophe; but the 
 farmer was constantly on the watch, and they had 
 fallen into the trap which he had set not especially 
 for them, but for any who might invade his grounds 
 with malicious intent. 
 
 The person who held Richard by the collar, and 
 whose finger nails had already left their marks
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 19 
 
 upon his neck, was no less a person than "Old Bat- 
 terbones" himself; and from the manner in which 
 he shook his prisoner, he seemed determined to 
 make good his title to the sobriquet the boys had 
 given him. The person who held Sandy in his 
 grasp was the farmer's foreman, who fully sym- 
 pathized with his employer in his views of dis- 
 cipline. 
 
 Richard struggled, and Sandy struggled; but 
 they might as well have attempted to escape from 
 the grip of an iron vise. The farmer and his man 
 held them fast; and the more their prisoners 
 squirmed the more they shook them, and the more 
 they seemed to enjoy the satisfaction of shaking and 
 choking them. 
 
 "We've caught you, my lads," said Mr. Batter- 
 man several times. 
 
 "Let go of me," growled Richard, his anger 
 fully aroused by the rough treatment he was re- 
 ceiving. 
 
 "I'll let go, you young villain, when I've done 
 with you, but not before. I'll teach you to steal 
 my melons; and then you can go home and tell
 
 20 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 your father how it is done," replied the farmer, 
 as he twisted the cravat of the poor boy till he could 
 hardly breathe. 
 
 Sandy, finding that any violent resistance was 
 hopeless, submitted to his fate with the best grace 
 he could command; but he only waited his chance 
 for something to turn up that would afford him 
 an opportunity to escape. He intended to use his 
 wits, rather than his muscle, on this occasion; and 
 his prudence saved him from some portion of the 
 hard usage that was bestowed upon his companion 
 in misery. 
 
 "Keep cool," said he in a low tone, when he saw- 
 that his friend was wasting his strength and adding 
 to his discomfort by useless resistance to the fiat of 
 destiny. 
 
 Richard profited by this hint; and when he be- 
 came calm and reasonable the farmer relaxed his 
 grasp, and permitted him to breathe with more 
 freedom. 
 
 "Who are they, Bates?" asked the farmer of 
 his foreman.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 21 
 
 "I don't know them ; it is so dark I can't make 
 them out," replied Bates. 
 
 "We'll take them up to the barn and see what 
 they look like." 
 
 "They have been here before, I think," added 
 the foreman. "I am pretty sure I saw them the 
 other night." 
 
 "No, you didn't," said Richard testily. "I never 
 was here before." 
 
 "Perhaps you never was, my boys; but when 
 chaps like you go far enough to steal, you don't 
 stand about a lie or two to cover it up. Now, boys, 
 you may take up that bag and carry it to the barn." 
 
 "I won't carry it," said Richard promptly. 
 
 "Won't you?" And the farmer again applied 
 the twisting process to his cravat, till the boy's 
 strength was almost gone from the choking sensa- 
 tion. 
 
 "Let go of me! You'll choke me to death!" 
 gasped Richard, who had never before been so 
 roughly handled. 
 
 "Will you carry the bag up to the barn, then?"
 
 9.2 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 demanded Mr. Batterman, as he eased off the pres- 
 sure upon the prisoner's throat. 
 
 "No, I won't!" replied Richard. 
 
 "Now, I think you will," said the farmer, as he 
 resumed the torture. 
 
 "Come, Dick, we may as well do it. It is no 
 use to kick; we are in for it, and you had better 
 make the best of it," interposed Sandy, who was 
 disposed to get off as cheaply as he could. 
 
 "I won't touch the bag! I'll die first!" gasped 
 Richard, whose rage had now reached the boiling 
 point, and there was no more reason in him than 
 in a mad dog. 
 
 "He's a hard one," suggested Bates. 
 
 "But he shall come to it, or I'll break every bone 
 in his body," answered the farmer. 
 
 Richard, insane with passion, and choking with 
 rage as well as from the discipline of Mr. Batter- 
 man, commenced a tremendous struggle for free- 
 dom and self-preservation. He sprang toward his 
 captor in an ineffectual attempt to hit him, or to 
 scratch out his eyes with his finger nails. Failing 
 in his efforts in this direction, he began to use his
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 23 
 
 heels as vigorously as a three-year-old colt, and suc- 
 ceeded in planting two or three hard kicks upon the 
 shins of the farmer. 
 
 Mr. Batterman was a large and powerful man, 
 and the efforts of Richard were as puny as those 
 of a lamb in the fangs of the lion. He foamed 
 and struggled till his strength was exhausted, and 
 his conqueror dropped him upon the ground. 
 
 "You've killed him," said Sandy, very much 
 alarmed at the apparent fate of his friend. 
 
 "If I have that's his business, not mine," an- 
 swered the farmer, without betraying any remorse 
 at what he had done. 
 
 But Richard was not killed, or even very badly 
 injured. The choking had deprived him of all his 
 strength; but a few minutes' respite from persecu- 
 tion restored him in a great measure, and he at- 
 tempted to get up, when he was promptly seized by 
 the farmer again. 
 
 "Will you carry the bag up to the barn, or will 
 you try some more of the same sort?" asked Mr. 
 Batterman, in a tone which fully indicated his in- 
 tention to resume his harsh treatment.
 
 24 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "I can't carry it," replied Richard, in an altered 
 tone, which was, at least, suggestive of a "caving 
 in" of his obdurate will. 
 
 "You carried it very well before you were caught 
 and perhaps you can again," sneered the farmer. 
 
 "Come, Dick, take hold of the bag," said Sandy. 
 "It's no use." 
 
 "I wasn't brought up to do that kind of work," 
 replied Richard, whose pride, quite as much as his 
 self-will, prompted him to refuse to do the degrad- 
 ing office. 
 
 "Take your choice, and be quick," said Mr. Bat- 
 terman, preparing to apply his disciplinary powers 
 again. "Take hold of the bag at once, or I'll shake 
 the life out of you." 
 
 Richard could not stand another dose of the 
 farmer's exhausting medicine, and he sullenly seized 
 the bag, while Sandy took hold of the other side. 
 Bates and the farmer kept close to them, so that 
 there was no chance to break away. After chang- 
 ing hands several times, they reached the barn, and 
 placed the melons in the position designated by their 
 tormentors.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 25 
 
 "Now, who are you?" asked the farmer, when 
 they had disposed of the bag. 
 
 "None of your business," answered Richard in 
 a low, sullen tone. 
 
 "You haven't got enough of it yet. Bates, bring 
 the lantern, and fetch a cowhide with you while you 
 are about it." 
 
 Richard did not like the sound of this last order. 
 It was ominous of a painful and degrading opera- 
 tion, a process of discipline to which he had never 
 before been subjected. The idea of being whipped 
 was almost as terrible as that of being shot through 
 the head or heart. 
 
 "Will you tell me your name, young man?" de- 
 manded the farmer when the foreman had gone. 
 "Let me inform you in the beginning that I am in 
 no humor to be trifled with. You can answer me 
 or not, just as you think best." 
 
 "I would rather not tell my name," replied Rich- 
 ard in a subdued tone. 
 
 The son of the rich broker of Woodville had 
 conscientious scruples on this point; for though he 
 did not scruple to commit the theft he was fully
 
 26 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 alive to the disgrace of being exposed. The good 
 name, the worldly reputation of his family, seemed 
 to be of more value than a conscience void of of- 
 fense before Him who readeth all hearts. To 
 speak of the sin of the act was but to utter trite and 
 commonplace words, which could be found in any 
 cheap catechism ; but to mention the disgrace attend- 
 ing the exposure of that sin, was to touch him where 
 he was keenly sensitive. 
 
 "You must tell me your name," said Mr. Batter- 
 man firmly. "What is your name?" he added, 
 turning to Sandy, whom he now held with one 
 hand. 
 
 "Sanderson Brimblecom," answered he, for he 
 had no family reputation to guard. 
 
 "Now, yours?" said he to Richard. 
 
 The broker's son made no reply. He had now 
 too much respect for Mr. Batterman to irritate him 
 with words, and too much respect for the name he 
 bore to connect it with the theft he had committed. 
 He waited in silence till Bates came with the lan- 
 tern.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 RICHARD FINDS THAT NO CHASTENING SEEMETH 
 TO BE JOYOUS 
 
 "TELL him who you are, Dick," said Sandy, 
 when Bates appeared with the lantern. "What's 
 the use of trying to cover up your name, when the 
 light will blow the whole thing?" 
 
 "Well, Dick," added the farmer, adopting the 
 name Sandy had used, "if you don't tell me who 
 you are, I shall see what virtue there is in that cow- 
 hide." 
 
 "My name is Richard Grant," replied the 
 broker's son sullenly, and with the feeling that he 
 had sacrificed all his manhood by giving up the 
 point. 
 
 "Ah, then you are the son of Mr. Grant, of 
 Woodville!" sneered Mr. Batterman. "I don't 
 wonder you didn't want to tell your name, for 
 stealing melons isn't a very respectable business." 
 
 27
 
 9 , IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "I am willing to pay for the melons, and let tHe 
 matter drop where it is," said Richard, who was 
 so far humbled as to be willing to compromise with 
 the owner of the stolen fruit. 
 
 "I am not exactly willing to let the matter drop 
 where it is. You are the son of a rich and respect- 
 able man, and you ought to know better than to 
 steal; and I am going to give you a lesson which 
 I hope you will profit by." 
 
 "I will pay double price for all the melons, if 
 you will let me go." 
 
 "I wouldn't let you go if you would pay ten 
 times the value of the melons. I want to teach 
 you better than to steal; and when I've done with 
 you I don't believe you will want to steal any more 
 of my fruit." 
 
 "What are you going to do?" demanded Rich- 
 ard, very much disturbed by the decided tones of 
 the farmer. 
 
 "I'm going to give you a sound thrashing." 
 
 "No, you are not," said Richard, who would 
 rather have died on the spot than submit to the 
 humiliation of a flogging.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 29 
 
 "You will see whether I am or not. It's no kind 
 of use for me to take a rich man's son like you be- 
 fore the court. Your father would pay your fine, 
 and you would laugh in your sleeve and call it a 
 good joke." 
 
 "You have no right to flog me," protested Rich- 
 ard. 
 
 "Perhaps I haven't; but I'm going to do it, if 
 I have to suffer myself for it. I am going to have 
 the satisfaction of curing you of stealing my 
 melons." 
 
 Bates had taken hold of Sandy again, and Mr. 
 Batterman prepared to make good his promise. 
 By the light of the lantern Richard saw the hard 
 face of the farmer. It was stern and forbidding, 
 and he felt that he meant all he had said. How 
 could the son of the owner of Woodville submit to 
 the disgrace of being whipped? At home he was 
 treated with respect and consideration. The serv- 
 ants took off their hats to him. His father, in his 
 sternest moments, had never hinted such a thing 
 as corporal punishment. 
 
 It seemed absolutely impossible for him to sub-
 
 SO IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 mit to the farmer's terrible remedy, but there was 
 no way to avoid it. He had offered to compromise, 
 but nothing would satisfy his relentless captor. The 
 punishment was to be inflicted in the spirit of re- 
 venge, rather than from a sense of duty, which 
 made it all the more intolerable to think of. He 
 was not to be whipped for his own or the public 
 good, but to satisfy the malice and revenge of "Old 
 Batterbones." 
 
 He decided not to submit to the infliction; but 
 he might as well have decided not to let the sun 
 rise on the following morning, or to stop the Hud- 
 son in its majestic flow to the sea. His own ex- 
 perience, so dearly bought in the garden, had shown 
 him that he was utterly incapable of any successful 
 resistance. He looked around him for the means 
 of escape, and racked his brain for some expedient 
 that would enable him to checkmate his unwieldy 
 opponent; but he looked in vain, and thought in 
 vain. There was nothing upon which to hang even 
 the faintest hope of resistance or escape. 
 
 The farmer held him by the collar, and the ter- 
 rible instrument of torture was raised over his head.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 31 
 
 It fell, and Richard writhed with the pain, not of 
 the body alone, for the blow seemed to penetrate 
 to his soul. It lacerated his pride, his self-respect, 
 more than it did his legs. He trembled like an 
 aspen leaf, as much from intense emotion as from 
 the smart of the stroke. 
 
 Richard was no coward, but he would have 
 begged off, if he could have done so with any pros- 
 pect of success; but he might as well have pleaded 
 with the ocean to hold back its destructive waves 
 as with Mr. Batterman to stay his hand before his 
 revenge was satisfied. Another and another blow 
 fell. The pain was so severe that the culprit could 
 not endure it, and the quick-falling strokes soon 
 kindled a fire in his soul which neither prudence 
 nor policy could check. It burst out in a raging 
 flame of passion, which caused him to roar like a 
 mad bull, and to kick, bite, and struggle like an im- 
 prisoned tiger. 
 
 All this resistance only added to the spite of his 
 persecutor, and he laid on the blows till his own 
 strength failed him. In vain Sandy remonstrated 
 with Richard upon the folly of his course, and
 
 32 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 begged him to keep cool, as though a severe flog- 
 ging was one of the light afflictions of this world, 
 that may be endured with patience by a philosoph- 
 ical temperament. 
 
 "Old Batterbones" had exhausted himself in the 
 struggle. His "wind" was gone; and he gave up 
 because he could do no more, rather than because 
 he was satisfied with the extent of the punishment. 
 
 "There, Mr. Richard Grant, of Woodville, 
 when you want to steal any more melons of mine, 
 think of that," said the farmer, as he cast the cul- 
 prit from him. 
 
 "You'll have to pay for this," groaned Richard, 
 who felt as though he had endured all the tortures 
 of the Inquisition. 
 
 "Perhaps I shall," puffed Mr. Batterman; "but 
 if you have got enough to make you a wiser and 
 a better boy I shall be perfectly satisfied." 
 
 "I'll be revenged on you for this, if it costs me 
 my life," exclaimed Richard, whose soul smarted 
 even more than his body. 
 
 "Shut up, now!" said the farmer angrily, "or 
 I'll give you some more."
 
 IK SCHOOL AND OUT $ 
 
 Richard did shut up, for the incident had de- 
 veloped a grain of discretion in his composition^ 
 if nothing better though nothing better could be 
 expected from a flogging inflicted in the spirit of 
 malice. 
 
 "Now, my boy," said the farmer, turning to 
 Sandy, when he had in some measure recovered his 
 breath, "we will see what we can do for you. You 
 are not a fool like the other fellow, and your wis- 
 dom will serve you a good turn." 
 
 Sandy made no remark in reply to this speech 
 f of Mr. Batterman. He had made up his mind to 
 ;submit with all the philosophy he could bring to 
 his aid. He had been flogged before. It was not 
 a new institution to him, as it had been to his com- 
 panion in iniquity. He looked upon a flogging as 
 one of the necessary evils to which a fast boy must 
 submit; and though he did not think it was all for 
 the best, he was disposed to make the best of it. 
 The thrashing was the gate by which he was to 
 escape from a bad scrape. 
 
 The farmer bore less malice toward him than 
 toward his friend. He had offered no resistance,
 
 34 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 and been measurably humble under the discipline 
 of misfortune. The blows were lighter and less in 
 number, and when a dozen strokes had been ad- 
 ministered Mr. Batterman was satisfied, and so ex- 
 pressed himself. At the same time he volunteered 
 an opinion that Richard was the real sinner, and 
 had led the other into the mischief a position 
 which Sandy took no pains to controvert. 
 
 But Sandy, though he was a philosopher and an 
 embryo man of the world, did not submit to his 
 punishment in silence. He was not a Stoic, and 
 every blow extorted from him a cry of pain, which 
 was as politic as it was necessary. He labored to 
 convince the farmer that he was suffering severely 
 from the castigation, so that he might be the sooner 
 satisfied with what had been done. Compared with 
 that which Richard had received, his whipping was 
 light. When it was finished he was surprised that 
 he had got off with so little, and he congratulated 
 himself upon the strategy which had so sensibly 
 diminished his portion. 
 
 "Now, boys, you can go. If you are satisfied I 
 am, and when you want to steal any more of my
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 35 
 
 fruit, just remember my treatment of fruit thieves," 
 said the farmer. 
 
 "You haven't seen the end of this yet," replied 
 Richard, as he moved off, his skin and his proud 
 spirit smarting in unison. 
 
 "You haven't seen the end of it, either, if you 
 don!t keep a civil tongue in your head." 
 
 Richard was tempted to enter immediately upon 
 the work of revenging himself for what he had 
 suffered, and when the farmer spoke he picked up 
 a couple of stones, with the intention of throwing 
 them at his tormentor; but Sandy, cool and self- 
 possessed in the hour of tribulation, dissuaded him 
 from this insane course. 
 
 "No use, Dick; drop the stones, and we will pay 
 him off at another time, when we can do so without 
 danger." 
 
 Richard listened to this prudent advice, and con- 
 cluded to adopt it, though he was impatient to be 
 revenged upon the farmer. He was not satisfied 
 with Sandy. He had not been sustained in his 
 resistance to the barbarous conduct of their captor. 
 He thought his companion had been tame and
 
 36 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 mean-spirited, he had submitted so quietly to his 
 punishment ; and when they had got out of the hear- 
 ing of Mr. Batterman he roundly reproached him 
 for his pusillanimous demeanor. 
 
 "I don't want to call you any hard names, Dick, 
 but in my humble opinion you were a downright 
 fool," replied Sandy. "It's no sort of use to pound 
 a stone wall with your naked fist. You don't hurt 
 the wall any." 
 
 "I like to see a fellow show some spirit," growled 
 Richard. "I thought you had some spunk; but you 
 caved in and took your flogging as meekly as though 
 you had been one of the saints in Fox's Book of 
 Martyrs." 
 
 "I don't know anything about your martyrs, but 
 I hadn't any notion of getting a double licking, as 
 you did. You got four times as much as I did, 
 just because you were fool enough to resist. If 
 there had been any use in fighting, I would have 
 fought as big as you did." 
 
 "I like to see a fellow stand by another when he 
 gets into a scrape," whined Richard. 
 
 "Do you mean to say I didn't stand by you?
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 37 
 
 Did I run away from you?" demanded Sandy in- 
 dignantly. 
 
 "You couldn't run away. The man held you 
 fast, or you would have done so." 
 
 "It's very easy for you to talk. I did all I could 
 to make you act like a reasonable fellow; but you 
 were bound to be a fool, and you got all you bar- 
 gained for." 
 
 Richard made no reply to his companion's taunts, 
 for his philosophy was beginning to commend itself 
 to his common sense, as he thought of the difference 
 in the two floggings, and realized that it was all 
 owing to his own stupidity. They walked along 
 in silence till they reached the Greyhound, but still 
 with "thoughts too big for utterance." 
 
 "A pretty condition I am in to go home," said 
 Richard, as he took his place at the helm. 
 
 "You will be all right in a day or two," replied 
 Sandy consolingly. 
 
 "What will my father say?" 
 
 "If you are fool enough to let him know about 
 it I don't care what he says."
 
 38 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "How can I help it ? The blood Is running down 
 my legs now. My skin is all cut up." 
 
 "Wash off the blood, and don't let anybody see 
 your legs." 
 
 "I could kill Old Batterbones," added Richard, 
 grating his teeth. 
 
 "We'll pay him off." 
 
 "I'll have my revenge, if I die for it." 
 
 "I'm with you there, Dick." 
 
 It was midnight when the Greyhound reached 
 the pier at Woodville.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 RICHARD MAKES A TREMENDOUS SENSATION 
 AT WOODVILLE 
 
 THE mansion at Woodville was dark and silent 
 when Richard stole cautiously up the walk which 
 led from the pier to the house. Of course his 
 father and the other members of the family sup- 
 posed he was asleep in his chamber, where he had 
 gone at an early hour to retire. He had locked 
 his door as usual, and to make the deception more 
 complete, he had pretended that he was not very 
 well. 
 
 His chamber window opened upon the one-story 
 addition which had been erected to afford room 
 for a conservatory. On one end of the structure 
 there was a trellis for the support of a grapevine. 
 After he had locked his door, Richard had opened 
 
 the window, crawled out upon the roof of the con- 
 so
 
 40 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 servatory, and descended to the ground by the aid 
 of the trellis. 
 
 He intended to return to his room by the same 
 route, but it was now a more difficult matter 
 than it had been when the family were all in the 
 sitting-room. Mr. Presby's room was next to his 
 own, and the old gentleman was not a very sound 
 sleeper. The difficulty of gaining access to his 
 room was so great that he was tempted to sleep in 
 the boathouse, and not take the risk of being dis- 
 covered; but the condition of his legs, still smart- 
 ing severely from the chastisement he had received, 
 would not permit him to do so. His wounds 
 needed attention, and though he was no surgeon, 
 he knew that a good washing in cold water, with 
 the application of a simple remedy he had in his 
 chamber, might ease the pain, and perhaps save 
 him from serious consequences. 
 
 With a stealthy step he walked round to the con- 
 servatory, and with the utmost care commenced 
 the ascent of the trellis. With all the precautions 
 he could use, it was impossible to avoid making 
 some noise, and he trembled lest the wakeful in-
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 41 
 
 valid should hear him. But he succeeded in gain- 
 ing the roof without creating an alarm. Here he 
 felt comparatively secure; but sometimes when we 
 think we are safest we are in the greatest peril. 
 The roof, wet with the dew of night, was very slip- 
 pery, and when he reached up to open the window 
 his feet flew up beneath him, and he fell, with noise 
 enough to rouse a deeper sleeper than Mr. Presby. 
 
 "Help! Help! Robbers! Thieves!" shouted the 
 old gentleman, as he threw open his window. 
 
 The invalid's lungs did not seem to be at all 
 affected, and there would have been no difficulty 
 in hearing him all over the house, not to say all 
 over the estate. Richard, taking advantage of the 
 momentary confusion, threw open the window and 
 sprang into his room. Doors were opening in all 
 parts of the house, and he could hear the hurried 
 tread of the members of the household in the halls. 
 
 But Richard did not lose his self-possession, and 
 hastily threw off his clothes. Placing himself at 
 the open window, he joined in the cry which Mr. 
 Presby still continued, and hallooed as lustily as 
 his neighbor in the adjoining room. The house
 
 42 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 was in a complete uproar, and presently he heard 
 the voices of his father and Uncle Obed at his door. 
 
 "Richard," said Mr. Grant. 
 
 "Sir," replied the young scapegrace. 
 
 "Open the door." 
 
 "They are not in here, father; they are outdoors. 
 One of them just jumped off the conservatory 
 at least, I think he did." 
 
 "Did you see them ?" asked Uncle Obed. 
 
 "No, I didn't see them, but I think I heard 
 them." 
 
 Mr. Grant seemed to be satisfied with the infor- 
 mation he had gained, and retired from the door. 
 Richard lighted his lamp, and waited impatiently 
 for the disturbance to subside; but he had to wait 
 a long time, for everybody about the place had been 
 thoroughly waked up. Mr. Presby went down to 
 the sitting-room, where, after a thorough search 
 had been made, the family and the servants had 
 collected to compare notes and ascertain to what 
 extent the supposed robbers had been successful in 
 their enterprise. 
 
 Richard's two sisters, Bertha and Fanny, were
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 43 
 
 there, and both of them very much terrified. Mr. 
 Grant soon pacified them with the assurance that 
 no one had been injured, and that there was no 
 further danger. But Richard was not there, and 
 his absence was noticed. He and Mr. Presby had 
 been the only persons who had heard the robbers, 
 and they had created the alarm. The old gentle- 
 man told his story, and Richard's testimony was 
 very much needed to complete the chain of evi- 
 dence. One of the men servants was sent up to re- 
 quest him to join the party. 
 
 "Tell them I don't feel very well, and have gone 
 to bed again," replied Richard, when the man de- 
 livered his message. 
 
 But this was the most dangerous answer he could 
 have returned; for Mr. Grant, followed by Uncle 
 Obed and Mr. Presby, hastened upstairs to ascer- 
 tain the nature of his illness. 
 
 "What ails you, Richard?" demanded his father 
 in tones of sympathy and kindness. 
 
 "Nothing particular; only I don't feel just 
 right," replied the young midnight marauder, ter-
 
 44 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 ribly alarmed as he thought of the probable conse- 
 quences of this visitation. 
 
 "Well, open the door, and let me see what I can 
 do for you," added his father. 
 
 "I don't want anything done. I shall be well 
 enough in the morning." 
 
 "You had better open the door, Richard; I want 
 to see you about the robbers." 
 
 "I can't; I am in bed." 
 
 "Don't get up, then," said Mr. Grant, more 
 anxious than at first for the health of his son. "I 
 have a key that will open the door." 
 
 These words struck terror to the soul of the 
 guilty youth, and he sprang out of bed with all the 
 haste he could command. One terror filled his 
 mind that his father might see his bleeding, lacer- 
 ated limbs; and he did, what guilty persons often 
 do, the stupidest thing of which the circumstances 
 would admit. He had blown out the light when 
 he heard them coming, and now in the darkness he 
 pulled on his pants, forgetting that the bedclothes 
 would as effectually hide his injured members as 
 the garment.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 45 
 
 He had hardly clothed himself in this partial 
 manner before his father succeeded in opening the 
 door. By the aid of the light which Uncle Obed 
 carried, the head and front of the melon expedition 
 was revealed to the visitors, standing in the middle 
 of the room, half clothed and wholly scared. 
 
 "Why, Richard! What ails you? Where have 
 you been?" demanded Mr. Grant, as he and the 
 others gazed with astonishment at the sorry figure 
 which the male heir of Woodville presented. 
 
 If Richard had attempted to dress himself in 
 the light, he would have rejected the muddy pants 
 he now wore, and consigned them to the deepest 
 depths of the clothes-press. He had rolled in the 
 moist earth of the melon patch, while under the 
 discipline of Mr. Batterman, till his clothes were 
 plastered with mud. His face was begrimed with 
 the rich black mold of the garden, through which 
 the tears of anger and resentment he had shed, 
 under the influence of their natural gravity, had 
 furrowed passages down his cheeks. 
 
 In the simple but eloquent language of Mrs. 
 Green, the housekeeper of Woodville, who had
 
 46 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 followed the party upstairs, to offer her services 
 in the capacity of nurse, Richard was "a sight to 
 behold." He had retired from the sitting-room, 
 and bade the family good-night before nine o'clock, 
 looking like a decent person. His pants were in 
 good condition then ; certainly, if they had been in 
 their present plight, it would have been noticed. 
 
 The first impulse of the visiting party was to 
 laugh at the extraordinary appearance he presented, 
 but a stronger feeling of interest and sympathy 
 overruled the inclination, and the culprit was spared 
 this humiliation. Richard was almost as much as- 
 tonished as they were, for he had not regarded a 
 thing so trivial as his personal appearance, in the 
 excitement and terror of the hour. 
 
 While the party was scrutinizing him with sur- 
 prise and anxiety, he happened to glance at the 
 looking-glass on the bureau. Then he saw his 
 hair tangled and matted with mud and filth; then 
 he saw his dirty, tear-furrowed cheeks; and then 
 he saw his befouled and torn pants. In the choice 
 language of the boys, it seemed to him that "the
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 47 
 
 cat was out of the bag" beyond the possibility of 
 recovery. 
 
 "What ails you, Richard? What under the sun 
 has happened?" asked Mr. Grant again, for the 
 terrified boy made no reply to the first question. 
 
 But Richard was an old head, and he had no 
 notion of being defeated in the present contest of 
 words or ideas. He stood like a statue in the mid- 
 dle of the floor, and made no reply to the interroga- 
 tories. 
 
 "Where have you been?" said his father. "Can't 
 you speak?" 
 
 "I don't know," replied Richard, with a bewil- 
 dered look, as he glanced with a vacant stare at 
 his soiled garments. 
 
 "Don't know where you have been?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 "That's very singular," said Uncle Obed. 
 
 "Have you been up since you went to bed?" de- 
 manded Mr. Grant. 
 
 "I don't know," replied Richard vacantly, as 
 though the whole matter was as much a mystery to 
 him as to the others.
 
 48 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "Where were you when the alarm was given?" 
 
 "Out on the roof of the conservatory." 
 
 "On the roof!" exclaimed his father. "How 
 came you there ?" 
 
 "I don't know," answered Richard, shaking his 
 head. 
 
 "Don't you know anything about it?" 
 
 "No, sir. I woke up, and heard some one hal- 
 loo Robbers! Thieves! I was close by the win- 
 dow, and I jumped in, and hallooed with the rest 
 of them." 
 
 "Were you standing on the roof?" 
 
 "No, I was flat on my face." 
 
 "I see," interposed Mr. Presby, holding up his 
 hands with astonishment; "I understand it all. The 
 poor boy is a sleep walker." 
 
 "Richard?" said Mr. Grant, who had never 
 known his son to do such a thing before. 
 
 "Yes, sir; your boy is unquestionably a som- 
 nambulist. He has been wandering about the gar- 
 den and rolling in the mud, in his sleep. There 
 have been no robbers or thieves here to-night. The 
 poor boy fell on the roof; that was what waked
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 4-9 
 
 him up; and the noise of his fall was what caused 
 me to give the alarm." 
 
 "Very singular," added Uncle Obed. 
 
 "I never had any suspicion that he got up in his 
 sleep," said Mr. Grant. 
 
 "There are instances on record of persons ad- 
 dicted to the practice who have followed it for years 
 without discovery. Now, if you will come to my 
 room, I will read you several accounts, given by 
 competent medical authority, of cases just like this," 
 observed Mr. Presby. 
 
 But none of the party, at that hour of the night, 
 were disposed to consult the authorities on the sub- 
 ject. If they had looked on the table in Richard's 
 room they might have found there a yellow-covered 
 pamphlet novel, entitled "Sylvester Sound, the Som- 
 nambulist." It is a very curious and amusing ac- 
 count of the antics of a sleep-walker, describing the 
 wonderful feats he performed in his slumbers, with- 
 out having the least idea of what he was doing. 
 
 The ingenious young rogue had been reading the 
 book that very day, and in the drama of the "Mid- 
 night Alarm," played at Woodville, he had chosen
 
 50 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 for himself the part of Sylvester Sound. While 
 his father went for a hammer and nails, to secure 
 the window, Richard removed his telltale trousers 
 and jumped into bed.
 
 RICHARD IS DETERMINED TO BE REVENGED 
 
 MR. GRANT nailed up the window in Richard's 
 room, so that when he should again walk in his 
 sleep he might not be exposed to the peril of break- 
 ing his neck by falling off the roof of the conserva- 
 tory. When this important work was accomplished 
 the party retired. Mr. Presby was a philosopher, 
 and his library had not been a merely ornamental 
 appendage of his house. He had read a great 
 deal, and thought a great deal; and mesmerism, 
 biology, psychology, somnambulism, and kindred 
 subjects, had each in its turn been considered, and a 
 conclusion reached. 
 
 Mr. Presby, therefore, was not disposed to re- 
 turn to his bed when the excitement had subsided. 
 So splendid an illustration of the phenomenon of 
 sleep-walking was enough to kindle his enthusiasm. 
 
 51
 
 52 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 He tried to draw Uncle Obed into a discussion on 
 the topic, but the latter was too sleepy. Mr. Grant 
 made a home question of the matter, and did not 
 care to indulge in any philosophical inquiries. One 
 after another the family retired, till the old gentle- 
 man was left alone, and then, in despair, he re- 
 sorted to the "authorities" as he termed his books, 
 and read till the inmates of the hennery began to 
 sound the morning call. 
 
 Richard did not come downstairs the next morn- 
 ing till nine o'clock, when Mr. Grant and Uncle 
 Obed had both gone to the city. He was so stiff 
 that he could hardly walk ; but he had washed him- 
 self clean, and thrown aside the soiled garments he 
 had worn on the expedition. 
 
 Already the story of Richard's wonderful doings 
 in his sleep had been circulated all over the estate, 
 and when he limped into the breakfast-room, every- 
 body supposed he was suffering from the injuries 
 he had received during his nocturnal ramble. Mr. 
 Presby, whose researches were not yet completed, 
 had taken pains to tell the people of the house that 
 somnambulists were peculiarly sensitive in regard
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 53 
 
 to their involuntary rambles, and, very much to the 
 surprise of Richard, no one even alluded to the 
 events of the night. 
 
 There was upon the faces and in the actions of 
 all with whom he came in contact an expression 
 of abundant sympathy. He was treated with in- 
 creased kindness and consideration by the family 
 and by the servants. When he had eaten his break- 
 fast the thought occurred to him that something 
 which might betray him had been left on the Grey- 
 hound, and he hastened down to the pier to remove 
 any such evidence. 
 
 As he passed the boathouse he heard the voices 
 of Mr. Presby and Ben in the building. The for- 
 mer had by no means slept off his enthusiasm in 
 the cause of science; and as soon as the dew was 
 off the grass he commenced exploring the premises, 
 in search of any appearances that might throw new 
 light upon the conduct of the "poor boy" during his 
 midnight ramble. He recalled the dirty and foul 
 condition of the patient when discovered in his 
 room, and he examined all the vile and filthy places 
 in the neighborhood, for the marks of some terrible
 
 54 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 struggle that might have taken place between the 
 sleep-walker and any real or imaginary demon. 
 
 The patient seeker after the hidden truths of 
 science had been to the pigsty, to learn whether 
 he had been wrestling with the pigs ; he had looked 
 into the cow yard, the horse stables, and the dog 
 kennels for information upon the dark subject; he 
 had patiently explored the cornfield and the potato 
 patch, and every dirty hole he could find; but not 
 a single fact or hint could he obtain to assist him in 
 solving the difficult problem. 
 
 In the course of his investigations he had reached 
 the department of Ben, the boatman. He had care- 
 fully noted the appearance of the earth on the banks 
 of the river, and, quite fatigued by his unusual 
 exertions, he had seated himself in the boathouse, 
 where Ben was at work. 
 
 "Have you noticed anything unusual about the 
 boats, Ben?" asked the old gentleman, after he 
 had given the boatman a full exposition of his views 
 on somnambulism. 
 
 "Yes, sir; I noticed that the Greyhound was in 
 a very dirty, slovenly condition this morning. She
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 55 
 
 wasn't so last night when I looked at her," replied 
 the boatman. 
 
 "Ah, indeed!" 
 
 "The white seats in the standing-room were cov- 
 ered with black mud, and upon the edges there were 
 stains of blood." 
 
 "Blood?" queried the philosopher. 
 
 "Yes, sir, blood; I have seen blood in my day, 
 and I know what it looks like." 
 
 "Can it be possible ! Blood! What could have 
 happened to the poor boy?" 
 
 "I don't know, sir." 
 
 "It is really awful. There is no knowing what 
 the poor boy may have suffered." 
 
 "He got back all right, for the boat was made 
 fast, as usual, to her moorings." 
 
 "The poor fellow must have been off somewhere 
 in the boat, in his sleep." 
 
 "Maybe he did, sir," answered Ben respectfully. 
 
 "Oh, there can be no doubt about it. Isn't it a 
 wonder that he wasn't drowned?" 
 
 "Mr. Richard knows how to handle a boat as 
 well as any boy of his years on the river."
 
 56 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "Yes, but you forget that he was asleep all the 
 time." 
 
 "Perhaps he was, sir," said Ben, who did not 
 seem to appreciate Mr. Presby's philosophy. 
 
 "But he did not get all that mud and filth upon 
 him while he was in the boat." 
 
 "No, sir, of course he didn't; for I wash down 
 the boat every time she is used, and she was as neat 
 as a new pin when I looked into her at sundown 
 last night." 
 
 "Then he must have landed somewhere," added 
 the logical Mr. Presby. 
 
 "No doubt of that, sir." 
 
 "Where do you suppose he landed?" 
 
 "I haven't the least idea." 
 
 "Do you suppose you could find out by sailing 
 up and down the river and examining the shore?" 
 
 "Well, sir, if you could tell which way the wind 
 is by looking into the ship's coppers, perhaps you 
 might." 
 
 "I feel a very deep interest in the poor boy's wel- 
 fare," added Mr. Presby, who did not admire Ben's 
 coldness on the subject; "and if you could obtain
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 57 
 
 any information that would throw light on this 
 singular affair, you might confer a great favor on 
 the youth." 
 
 "I'll do anything I can, sir, to find out about it; 
 and if you want to go up and down the river and 
 examine the shore, I'll pull the boat for you." 
 
 Mr. Presby accepted this offer, and Richard kept 
 behind the boathouse till they had embarked. The 
 roguish author of all these scientific inquiries lis- 
 tened to the old gentleman's remarks on sleep- 
 walking in general, and the phenomena of his own 
 case in particular, till the boat disappeared in the 
 cove above the pier. He then jumped into his 
 skiff, and pulled off to the Greyhound. 
 
 Ben had carefully removed all the stains of dirt 
 and blood, and the boat now bore no testimony 
 against him. Whatever the boatman might have 
 thought, he certainly said nothing, and was even 
 willing to countenance Mr. Presby's theory in ex- 
 planation of the absence of the boat, and of her 
 dirty appearance. 
 
 Though Richard had every reason to be satisfied 
 with the success which had attended his representa-
 
 58 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 tion of the character of a somnambulist, he coulH 
 not banish the doubts and fears that haunted him. 
 Some unlucky mischance might betray him; "Old 
 Batterbones" or Bates might tell the story; Sandy 
 might be entrapped into an exposure of the affair; 
 indeed, there were so many ways by which the 
 secret might come out that he was far from satisfied 
 with the prospect before him. 
 
 He was a high-spirited young man, and prided 
 himself upon his healthy body and well-developed 
 muscle, and the idea of being pitied as a person 
 having an infirmity upon him was far from grate- 
 ful to his sensibilities. He did not much admire 
 Mr. Presby's inquiring mind, and thought he was 
 an "old fool" to trouble himself about what did 
 not concern him. He did not care to be the sub- 
 ject of his meditations. Being watched, pitied, and 
 made the subject of a physiological study, were 
 almost as bad as being caught in the act of stealing 
 melons. 
 
 But above all considerations of his own safety 
 or his own comfort was the reflection that he had 
 been whipped unjustly and cruelly whipped by
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 59 
 
 such a person as "Old Batterbones." All the bad 
 boys hated and despised him, and he felt that 
 Woodville had been outraged in the person of its 
 male heir. These thoughts rankled in his soul, and 
 he was thirsting for revenge. He was determined 
 to have satisfaction for the injuries that had been 
 heaped upon him. Already the dim outline of a 
 purpose whose execution would secure him ample 
 vengeance was presented to his mind. 
 
 While these dark thoughts were passing through 
 his brain he discovered the boat, with Mr. Presby 
 and Ben, returning to the pier. Not caring to en- 
 counter the scrutiny, or answer the questions of 
 the philosopher, he hoisted the sails, and cast off 
 the moorings of the Greyhound. He was anxious 
 to see Sandy Brimblecom, and ascertain whether he 
 had been discovered when he went home. Sailing 
 over to Whitestone, he found Sandy on the wharf, 
 and took him into the boat. 
 
 "Did you get into the house all right?" asked 
 Richard as the Greyhound receded from the 
 Avharf. 
 
 "I did, but I got caught for all that. My mother
 
 60 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 had missed me, and about one o'clock, after I had 
 got into bed, the old man came up to my chamber 
 to see if I was there." 
 
 "Of course you pretended to be sound asleep." 
 "I did ; but it wouldn't go down. The old man 
 asked me where I had been. I told him I had been 
 over to see you." 
 
 "Did you, indeed?" sneered Richard. "And 
 the next thing he will do will be to go to my father, 
 and ask him if you were at our house. My folks 
 know I went to bed before nine o'clock. You have 
 got me into a pretty scrape." 
 
 "No, I haven't. The old man won't ask any 
 more questions; but he was mad as thunder with 
 me for staying out so late. It's all right now, 
 Dick; you needn't give yourself any trouble about 
 it." 
 
 "I shall not do that, whatever happens." 
 Richard then described the happy "dodge" by 
 which he had thrown dust in the eyes of all the 
 inmates of Woodville. Sandy was much amused 
 at the account, and expressed a decided admira- 
 tion for the wonderful genius of his companion,
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 61 
 
 and even went so far as to request the loan of the 
 remarkable work which had suggested the expe- 
 dient. He would like to read that book, though 
 he was not in the habit of doing such things. 
 
 "See there, Sandy," said Richard, as he pulled 
 up his pants and exhibited to his friend the wales 
 and broken skin upon his legs. 
 
 "That's hard," replied Sandy, as he shook his 
 head. "The old villain laid it on well." 
 
 "He did, and he shall pay dearly for it," added 
 Richard, as he compressed his lips and ground his 
 teeth. "I'll be revenged upon him if it costs me 
 my life." 
 
 "I'm with you there, Dick." 
 
 "It shall be the worst night's work for Old Bat- 
 terbones that ever he did." 
 
 "What are you going to do, Dick?" 
 
 "Will you stand by me, Sandy?" demanded 
 Richard earnestly. 
 
 "Certainly; to be sure I will. But, Dick, we 
 mustn't burn our own fingers," said his prudent 
 companion. "What are you going to do?" 
 
 In low tones Richard detailed the scheme into
 
 62 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 which his outline of a purpose had grown, and when 
 they parted at noon the arrangements were all com- 
 pleted.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 RICHARD GIVES ANOTHER ILLUSTRATION OP! 
 SLEEP-WALKING 
 
 FOR six or seven nights following the expedition 
 to the watermelon patch of Mr. Batterman, Rich- 
 ard Grant did not "walk in his sleep." The 
 parental solicitude of his father prompted him to 
 set a watch for several nights; and Mr. Presby, 
 who was still anxious to pursue his scientific inves- 
 tigations, slept with one eye open, that he might 
 be in readiness to avail himself of the reappearance 
 of the phenomenon. 
 
 The philosopher's hint that sleep-walkers are sen- 
 sitive to any allusion to their infirmity had pre- 
 vented him and Mr. Grant from informing the 
 subject of their precautions of the steps they had 
 taken to observe his movements, and Richard was 
 entirely unconscious that vigilant eyes were upon 
 him while he slept, or while he ought to sleep. 
 
 68
 
 64 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 But Richard was too lame and sore from the 
 effects of his flogging to indulge again so soon in 
 the luxury of "sleep-walking." He had not been 
 questioned in regard to the blood upon the seats of 
 the Greyhound, for, being asleep when the stains 
 were made, of course he would know nothing about 
 them. Mr. Presby explained his inactivity and 
 want of energy upon philosophical principles, and 
 everybody seemed to be satisfied. 
 
 The salve which the sufferer applied to his 
 wounded members healed the bruises in a few days, 
 and he was again in condition to pursue his wonted 
 sports and pleasures. After the lapse of a week, 
 as the patient exhibited no further signs of the 
 malady, the watch was discontinued; but Mr. 
 Presby was too enthusiastic in the cause of science 
 to abandon the case so soon. He sat up in his 
 chamber till midnight, with his ears wide open, 
 to catch the slightest indication of a movement on 
 the part of his interesting subject. 
 
 Every day Richard and Sandy met; and they 
 never failed to renew the mutual pledges they had 
 made to be revenged upon "Old Batterbones."
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 65 
 
 The plan was discussed and amended till no fur- 
 ther improvement could be made ; and by this time 
 Richard was so far recovered from his injuries as to 
 enable him to take the leading part in its execution. 
 The night was appointed for the purpose, and it 
 was agreed that the boys should meet at a point 
 just below Whitestone, where Richard was to take 
 Sandy into the Greyhound, and proceed to the inlet 
 where they had before landed. 
 
 It was a very difficult matter for Richard to get 
 out of the house without detection. If he could 
 succeed in opening his door, and walk through the 
 long halls of the mansion without attracting the 
 attention of any of its numerous inmates, he could 
 hardly expect to unlock any of the outer doors with 
 safety. After much reflection, he decided that it 
 would be the better way to go out as he had gone 
 before over the roof of the conservatory, and 
 down the trellis. 
 
 With the proper tools, therefore, he had re- 
 moved the nails with which his father had secured 
 the window of his chamber. He had then skil- 
 fully adjusted them, so that they appeared to be as
 
 66 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 his father had left them, though he could easily 
 pull them out. At ten o'clock he retired as usual, 
 but the hour of meeting was one o'clock, for the 
 young rascals had come to the conclusion that their 
 purpose could be better executed in the small hours 
 of the morning, when the farmer and his man 
 would probably be asleep. 
 
 Richard waited impatiently till he heard the 
 clock strike twelve. There had been no noise in 
 the chamber of Mr. Presby for some time, and he 
 concluded that the old gentleman must be asleep. 
 He had gone to bed as usual, in order to remove 
 any suspicion in case he should find it necessary 
 to act the part of the sleep-walker again. He rose 
 and dressed himself for the expedition, using the 
 utmost care to avoid disturbing the slumbers of the 
 troublesome philosopher in the adjoining room. 
 
 Everything worked to his entire satisfaction, and 
 he was not conscious that he had made the slightest 
 noise. The nails were removed from the window ; 
 but, though he had taken the precaution to oil the 
 sash where it slid up and down, it creaked a little, 
 in spite of all the care he could use. He was sat-
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 67 
 
 isfied that the noise could not wake Mr. Presby, 
 and he continued his operations. Leaving the win- 
 dow open, as a somnambulist would naturally be 
 expected to do, he crept softly over the roof, and 
 reached the trellis without accident. 
 
 As yet there was no appearance of an interrup- 
 tion ; but the first bar of the trellis, upon which he 
 placed his foot, creaked and snapped. As the noise, 
 so far as he could see, attracted no notice, he re- 
 sumed his attempt, and reached the^ground without 
 any further impediment, real or imaginary. 
 
 With stealthy step he retreated from the house 
 till there was no longer any danger of being dis- 
 covered. Quickening his pace, he soon reached the 
 pier, and with the skiff boarded the Greyhound. 
 The night was certainly favorable for the execution 
 of dark deeds. The midnight assassin, the incen- 
 diary, or the burglar would have rejoiced in its 
 darkness, its dense black clouds, and its fitful winds. 
 
 Richard Grant still felt the cowhide of his enemy 
 tingling upon his legs, and still felt its iron piercing 
 his soul. The injury he had received a week be-< 
 fore rankled in his bosom as it had the hour after
 
 68 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 it had been inflicted. Neither the time that had 
 elapsed, nor thz peril attending his present enter- 
 prise, in any degree moderated the spirit of revenge 
 that burned in his soul. 
 
 As soon as he had secured the skiff at the buoy 
 to which the sailboat was moored, he opened the 
 door of the stern locker, and drew forth a small 
 bottle. He shook it to satisfy himself that the 
 contents were safe, and then restored it to the place 
 from which he had taken it. He then examined 
 his pockets to assure himself that some other article 
 necessary for his purpose was all right. No mis- 
 take or omissions had been made, and he proceeded 
 to hoist the mainsail. He then cast off the moor- 
 ings, and hoisted the jib. The wind was too fresh 
 to permit the Greyhound to carry all sail, and even 
 with what he had set, she put her rail under the 
 water at the first forward impulse. 
 
 One less skilful and courageous than Richard 
 would have been terrified by the fierce waves and 
 the gloom of the night, especially if bound upon 
 an errand of evil and crime ; but he held the tiller 
 with a steady hand, and heeded not the spray that
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 69 
 
 broke upon the half-deck of the Greyhound. A 
 few moments in such a breeze were sufficient to 
 carry him over the river to the place of rendezvous. 
 The point was as familiar to him as the pier at 
 Woodville; and as soon as he could obtain a view 
 of the dark outline of the shore he ran the boat 
 alongside the point, with as little difficulty as though 
 it had been broad daylight. 
 
 Sandy Brimblecom was not there, and an ex- 
 pression of anger escaped from the lips of Richard, 
 when he found that the partner of his iniquitous 
 scheme might possibly fail him. He gave the sig- 
 nal whistle with which they were in the habit of 
 calling each other; but there was no reply. The 
 clocks on the churches in Whitestone struck one. 
 and Richard waited half an hour after he heard 
 them half an hour, which seemed like half a day 
 to him. 
 
 He was afraid that Sandy's heart had failed him, 
 or that his father had discovered him ; and Richard 
 decided to proceed alone with the enterprise. Dis- 
 gusted at the failure of his associate, he pushed off 
 from the point. As he did so, he discovered an-
 
 70 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 other boat a short distance up the river, moving 
 off from the shore. He watched it for a moment, 
 till it disappeared in the gloom. It was not a com- 
 mon thing to see sailboats out at such an hour, and 
 on such a night as this was; but he concluded that 
 it was some gardener taking his produce to an early 
 market, and he gave himself no uneasiness. 
 
 Just as he lost sight of the boat, he heard the 
 familiar whistle of Sandy. Putting the Greyhound 
 about, he ran under the lee of the point, and his 
 friend leaped on board. Richard immediately put 
 off again, and shaped the course of the boat for the 
 inlet near the garden of "Old Batterbones." 
 
 "You are late, Sandy," said Richard in reproach- 
 ful tones. 
 
 "Can't help it. I got asleep, and didn't wake 
 up," replied Sandy, with a long gape. 
 
 "Asleep! What did you go to sleep for? I 
 haven't been asleep." 
 
 "I didn't mean to, but I was so sleepy I couldn't 
 help it." 
 
 "You came pretty near spoiling your share of
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 71 
 
 the fun. I had just cast off, and was going to put 
 the thing through alone." 
 
 "I wish you had," answered Sandy, in a tone 
 which did not please his companion any better than 
 the words themselves. 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "It's a bad scrape we are getting into, and I wish 
 we were well out of it. If I hadn't promised to 
 go I wouldn't have anything to do with it." 
 
 "Old Batterbones licked you as well as me." 
 
 "I know that, and I should like to pay him oft 
 for it; but I don't believe it will do to go in quite 
 so steep as we are going." 
 
 "You are chicken-hearted, Sandy. I thought 
 you had more grit than that." 
 
 "I think I have got as much as you have, but I 
 don't believe it will pay to rub your nose on a grind- 
 stone. ,Your nose will get the worst of it." 
 
 "You can back out, if you want to," added Rich- 
 ard in an indifferent tone. 
 
 "I don't want to back out. I agreed to go, and 
 I am going, if I have to be hung for it. I only 
 say it is a bad scrape."
 
 72 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "No scrape at all, Sandy. I don't calculate to 
 get found out." 
 
 "You didn't calculate to before, but you did; 
 and Old Batterbones got more fun out of the scrape 
 than you did. Perhaps he will this time." 
 
 "If you are afraid, Sandy, back out, and we will 
 go home again." 
 
 "I'm not afraid : don't use that word to me again, 
 Dick. If I had been afraid, I shouldn't come, of 
 course." 
 
 By this time the Greyhound was off the little 
 inlet, near Mr. Batterman's garden, and, as a mat- 
 ter of prudence, all conversation was suspended. 
 The boat shot into the inlet, and was made fast to 
 the same tree as on the former occasion. As the 
 business of these hopeful youths was not with the 
 melon patch, they took a different road this time. 
 
 They had gone but a short distance before the 
 rushing of a boat through the water was heard. 
 They paused and Richard saw a sail, which he 
 believed he had seen before that night, pass by 
 the mouth of the inlet. He caught but a glance
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 73 
 
 of it, as it cut a tangent along the small circle of 
 his vision. 
 
 "I don't like the looks of that boat, Sandy," 
 whispered Richard, as the sail disappeared in the 
 gloom. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "What is any one sailing about the river at this 
 time of night for?" 
 
 "I don't know," added Sandy, who did not seem 
 to be at all alarmed at the appearance of the boat. 
 
 "I think I have seen her before to-night," con- 
 tinued Richard. 
 
 "If you are afraid we will both back out, and 
 then neither can twit the other." 
 
 "I'm not afraid; come along. I've no notion of 
 backing out." And Richard moved on, followed 
 by his reluctant associate. 
 
 When they had ascended the hill, they carefully 
 walked all over the grounds to satisfy themselves 
 that the farmer and his man were not keeping vigil 
 over the melons ; but they could neither see nor hear 
 anything that betokened the presence of a human 
 being. Satisfied with this survey of the ground,
 
 74 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 Richard led the way to the barn, where he had re- 
 ceived his terrible flagellation. The memories of 
 the place were not pleasant, and they Intensified 
 the hatred he bore the owner of the premises, and 
 fanned the flame of vengeance that was burning in 
 his soul. 
 
 The barn was an old building, and very much 
 out of repair. It contained the farmer's horses and 
 oxen, his wagons, his hay, and other produce. On 
 the side nearest to the river some of the boards had 
 been forced partly off by the pressure of the hay; 
 and against one of these places Richard sat down 
 upon the ground. 
 
 "Pull out some of the hay, Sandy," whispered 
 Richard, as he drew from his pocket the bottle 
 which he had taken from the locker of the boat. 
 
 Sandy hinted something about backing out again ; 
 but a sneer from Richard silenced him, and he 
 obeyed the order. While he was doing so, Rich- 
 ard walked round the barn to satisfy himself that 
 no one was near. They were alone, and the wicked 
 work proceeded.
 
 RICHARD KINDLES A LITTLE FIRE 
 
 SANDY continued to pull out the hay from be- 
 hind the board, till Richard, who, as engineer, con- 
 ducted the operations, directed him to suspend his 
 labors. The contents of the bottle were poured 
 upon the heap of loose hay. 
 
 "What's that, Dick?" asked Sandy. 
 
 "Spirits of turpentine. I intend to make sure 
 work of it," answered Richard. 
 
 "I wouldn't use that stuff," added Sandy. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "To tell the truth, Dick, I was in hopes the fire 
 wouldn't burn." 
 
 "I believe you are a fool, Sandy Brimblecom. 
 Have you come clear over here, in the dead of the 
 night, to kindle a fire that will not burn ?" 
 
 "I don't like the idea of setting the barn on fire," 
 whispered Sandy in an earnest tone. "What do
 
 76 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 you suppose they will do with us if we should get 
 found out?" 
 
 "We shall not get found out." 
 
 "We shall be sent to the State prison at least 
 I shall." 
 
 "I shall if you are; we shall both be in the same 
 boat, and if one goes down the other must." 
 
 "I don't know about that," said Sandy; "your 
 father is rich and he will get you off. I shall have 
 to stand all the racket." 
 
 "Shut up, Sandy! I have gone too far to back 
 out now," added Richard, decidedly, as he took a 
 bwnch of matches from his pocket. 
 
 "Hold on a moment, Dick, before it is too late. 
 It will be cheaper to do our thinking now than it 
 will be after the barn is burned down." 
 
 "I have done all the thinking I care to do 
 already. The die is cast, Sandy. I won't back out 
 now, and you shall not." 
 
 "It's too bad to burn up the horses and oxen in 
 the barn. That's cruel. If it wasn't for them I 
 wouldn't say a word." 
 
 "Very well; we will go round and turn out the
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 77 
 
 horses and oxen. I don't want to burn them any 
 more than you do." 
 
 "But the noise will wake the farmer and hit 
 man." 
 
 "No, it won't. I have thought a great deal 
 about the animals, and it goes right against my 
 grain to hurt them, especially the horses." 
 
 "I don't want to burn the barn, anyway." 
 
 "You are a coward and a fool, Sandy." 
 
 "It's easy enough for you to say so, when you 
 know your father has money enough to buy up Old 
 Batterbones if we get into any scrape." 
 
 "Come, no more whining, Sandy; I'm going to 
 get the horses and oxen out, and then I'm going 
 to burn the barn." 
 
 "I'm off, then." 
 
 "Very good; but if I get into trouble I will blow 
 on you." 
 
 This consideration staggered Sandy, and he con- 
 cluded to stay and see the end of the wicked enter- 
 prise. The house of Mr. Batterman was at a con- 
 siderable distance from the barn, and there was 
 but little danger that the humane policy of the
 
 78 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 young incendiaries would expose them to any addi- 
 tional peril. 
 
 Richard, followed by Sandy, entered the barn, 
 and turned all the animals loose. They drove them 
 into a lot where they could not get near the fire. 
 The only thing that had weighed upon the mind of 
 the broker's son, in the prosecution of his mad en- 
 terprise, was now removed, and he returned to the 
 place where he had prepared the materials for 
 starting the conflagration. Again Sandy stated his 
 objections, and urged Richard to abandon the 
 scheme ; but the latter, without any reply to this re- 
 monstrance, drew a card of matches across a stone, 
 and applied the burning mass to the hay which had 
 been saturated with turpentine. 
 
 The heap of combustible matter suddenly blazed 
 up, lighting all the fields around them. The work 
 had been surely done, and it was too late for Sandy 
 to urge any more of his objections. 
 
 "Come, Sandy, the work is done. Now use your 
 legs," said Richard, as he started at the top of his 
 speed toward the inlet where the Greyhound lay. 
 
 Sandy's legs did not fail him on this emergency,
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 79 
 
 for he soon outstripped his companion. They had 
 gone but a few rods when both were appalled at 
 the discovery of two men, who were running toward 
 the fire with all their might which was not saying 
 much, for both of them seemed to be old and stiff, 
 and incapable of making very good time even on so 
 pressing an emergency as the present. 
 
 The guilty boys were filled with terror. The 
 shock was so great that it seemed to deprive them 
 of their strength, and they found their legs giving 
 out under them. 
 
 "We are caught, Dick," gasped Sandy, when he 
 could regain breath enough to speak. 
 
 "No, we are not; come along. Don't stop 
 here," answered Richard, who was beginning to 
 recover his self-possession. 
 
 They ran as fast as their weakened limbs would 
 permit till they reached the bank of the river. 
 Richard jumped into the boat and hoisted the sails, 
 while Sandy cast off the painter, and they were soon 
 standing out from the shore before the fresh 
 breeze. Neither of them spoke for some minutes,
 
 80 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 for neither of them had breath enough left in his 
 body to do so. 
 
 "The fire don't burn," said Richard, when the 
 boat had gone far enough to enable him to see over 
 the high bank of the river. 
 
 "Don't it?" asked Sandy hoarsely, for the terror 
 and exhaustion of the awful moments through 
 which he had just passed seemed to have choked 
 up his throat, and deprived him of his voice. 
 
 "No; it is as dark up there as it was before we 
 landed." 
 
 "I am glad of it," gasped Sandy, who was be- 
 ginning to breathe a little easier. 
 
 "I'm not," added Richard firmly. "We shall 
 only have the job to do over again." 
 
 "If you ever catch me in such a scrape as this 
 again you may let me know it when you do." 
 
 "You might as well have the game as the 
 name." 
 
 "I don't know about that. I am glad the barn 
 didn't burn. Are you sure the fire has gone out?" 
 
 "No doubt of it. There isn't enough to light 
 your cigar,"
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 81 
 
 "I suppose those men put it out. Who do you 
 think they were?" 
 
 "I don't know, and I don't care. I wish they 
 had been somewhere else. They have spoiled my 
 night's work." 
 
 "I am glad they have; and I thank them with 
 all my heart for what they have done." 
 
 "I don't; you might as well be hung for an old 
 sheep as a lamb. If we are caught it will be all 
 the same with us as though we had burned the 
 barn." 
 
 "Who do you suppose the men were?" 
 
 "I haven't the least idea. I don't care." 
 
 "Yes, you do care, Dick. What's the use of 
 talking in that way ? You don't want to be found 
 out any more than I do." 
 
 "I know that, but we are not found out; and 
 that isn't all we shall not be." 
 
 "I should like to be satisfied on that point." 
 
 "The men didn't take any notice at all of us, and 
 I am certain they did not see us." 
 
 "They couldn't help seeing us, Dick. The fire
 
 82 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 lit up the whole field, so that it was as light as 
 broad day." 
 
 "Suppose they did see us ; they couldn't tell who 
 we were. Keep a stiff upper lip, Sandy, and it will 
 be all right." 
 
 "I can only hope for the best, but I shall be 
 scared at my own shadow for a month to come," 
 added Sandy, in whose nature a vein of candor 
 appeared to be suddenly developed, for he was not 
 in the habit of acknowledging that he was afraid 
 of anything. 
 
 "You don't talk a bit like Sandy Brimblecom," 
 sneered Richard; "and you act more like an old 
 woman than a fellow of any spunk." 
 
 "Humph! I'll bet you are as scared as I am, 
 only you won't own it." 
 
 "I don't know what fear means, Sandy." 
 
 "Oh, you can brag; but when a fellow can go 
 and set a man's barn afire, without wincing, he's 
 worse than I am; that's all I've got to say." 
 
 "Worse than you are !" said Richard. "Didn't 
 you agree to the whole thing? Didn't you go in
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 83 
 
 for paying Old Batterbones? Didn't you come 
 down here to burn the barn with me?" 
 
 "I did, but I didn't want to come." 
 
 "What did you come for, then?" 
 
 "Because I agreed to come." 
 
 "You're not the fellow I took you to be. You 
 joined me in the affair, and then, at the last mo- 
 ment, you begin to whine like a sick monkey." 
 
 "I'm not so far gone that I can burn a man's 
 barn without feeling it." 
 
 "You haven't got the pluck of a mosquito." 
 
 "You've said about enough on that tack, Dick 
 Grant," replied Sandy, who did not relish the re- 
 flections cast upon his courage. 
 
 "I shall say what I think best." 
 
 "No, you won't ! I'm sorry for what I've done, 
 and I'm willing to own it; but I won't take any 
 sauce from you or any other fellow." 
 
 "You can talk big enough," sneered Richard. 
 
 "Shut up, or I'll bat you over the head." 
 
 "Humph!" 
 
 "Just put me ashore, Dick Grant, and you and 
 I will part company."
 
 84 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "I'm willing." 
 
 Both boys felt that enough had been said, and 
 the conversation was discontinued by mutual con- 
 sent. Richard, notwithstanding his bravado, was 
 no better satisfied with himself than Sandy. 
 Though he had spoken of "doing the job over 
 again," he had not the slightest idea of repeating 
 the experiment. The shock which the discovery 
 of the two men had given him was too much even 
 for his strong nerves ; and though he was not will- 
 ing to confess it, he was sorry for what he had 
 done. The terror of being found out had damped 
 the spirit of revenge. The excitement of the affair 
 had passed away, and like his companion in wicked- 
 ness, visions of public trial, of the house of correc- 
 tion, or the State prison, began to flit before him. 
 
 He was not sorry that the barn had been saved 
 from destruction; and the only pleasant reflection 
 in connection with the whole transaction was that 
 he had insisted upon saving the horses and the oxen. 
 It was with Richard as it is with all who commit 
 crimes. They are led on by the spirit of revenge, 
 or some other strong motive. There is a kind of
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 85 
 
 excitement which urges them on till the wicked deed 
 is committed. Then the criminal excitement sub- 
 sides; the hour of reflection comes, burdened also 
 with the fear of discovery. To some extent, crime 
 is its own punishment; at least, it is so with those 
 who have not become hardened in iniquity. 
 
 Richard brought the Greyhound up to the point 
 where he had taken Sandy on board. He did not 
 like to part with him in anger, for, to a certain 
 extent, he sympathized with him in his penitential 
 confession. But, more than this, he was afraid 
 Sandy might revenge himself upon him for the re- 
 proaches he had uttered. 
 
 "Let's not quarrel, Sandy," said Richard, as he 
 laid the boat alongside the landing-place. 
 
 "I don't want to quarrel, but I won't be picked 
 upon by you," replied Sandy with spirit. 
 
 "I'll take it all back. Let's be friends again. 
 We have failed to do what we intended, and per- 
 haps it will be just as well for us." 
 
 "I'm glad you are coming to your senses. Do 
 you mean to try it again?"
 
 86 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "We won't burn the barn, Sandy, but we must 
 pay off Old Batterbones in some other way." 
 
 "I'll do it. I'll hook his apples, pull out the 
 linchpins of his wagon, throw a dead cat into his 
 well, or anything of that sort, with you, but I won't 
 attempt to burn any man's barn again. No, 
 never!" 
 
 "We'll fix him yet, Sandy. When shall I see 
 you again?" 
 
 "I shall be round the wharf to-morrow." 
 
 "I'll see you there. Good-night to you, Sandy." 
 
 "Good-night, Dick." 
 
 Boys don't usually bid each other good-night 
 after they have been doing wicked deeds ; and Rich- 
 ard's parting salutation was a peace-offering rather 
 than the kindly wish of a friend. 
 
 Sandy made his way up to Whitestone, and 
 Richard again pushed off upon the troubled waters 
 of the Hudson. The Greyhound leaped over the 
 waves as though she was in haste to get out of the 
 disgraceful business in which she had been em- 
 ployed. Richard heard the clocks in Whitestone
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 87 
 
 striking three, as he grappled his moorings and 
 made fast to them. 
 
 He landed from the skiff, and, like a thief in 
 the night, stole up to his father's house. Before 
 he attempted to ascend the trellis he pulled off his 
 boots, and fastening them together with his hand- 
 kerchief, slung them around his neck. He reached 
 the roof of the conservatory without noise, and 
 then, to his utter consternation, discovered a light 
 in Mr. Presby's room. But die precaution he had 
 taken in the removal of his boots enabled him to 
 reach his chamber window without producing a 
 sound. Then, to his astonishment and terror, he 
 found that the window he had left open was closed. 
 
 Some one had been there.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 RICHARD BEHOLDS HOW GREAT A MATTER A 
 LITTLE FIRE KINDLETH 
 
 THE window of the chamber was not fastened, 
 and when Richard gained admission he found the 
 door locked as he had left it. The window must 
 therefore have been closed from the outside; but 
 this did not seem probable, and he came to the con- 
 clusion that the sash had dropped of itself. This 
 was a very comforting reflection, and it removed 
 many of the doubts and fears which disturbed him. 
 
 Congratulating himself upon his escape from 
 manifold perils by land and water, Richard un- 
 dressed himself and went to bed. But tired as he 
 was, he could not go to sleep for some time. His 
 brain was busy calculating the chances of detec- 
 tion, and devising schemes to avert suspicion if any 
 should be fastened upon him. Nature triumphed 
 at last, and he went to sleep. 
 
 SS
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 89 
 
 Late the next morning, when he went down- 
 stairs, he was pale and haggard. Somewhat to his 
 surprise, he found that his father had not gone to 
 the city as usual. Everybody looked sober, and 
 Mr. Grant's face wore a very stern and troubled 
 expression. Richard ate his breakfast in silence, 
 wondering all the time what so many serious and 
 averted faces portended. 
 
 "You were out. again last night, Richard," said 
 his father, when they met in the sitting-room at a 
 later hour. 
 
 "No, sir, not that I am aware of," replied Rich- 
 ard, with as much self-possession as he could call 
 to his aid, though his heart was leaping with fear 
 and anxiety. 
 
 "If you had been out, shouldn't you have been 
 aware of it?" asked his father, fixing a penetrating 
 gaze upon him. 
 
 "I don't know. I only judge by what happened 
 the other night," answered Richard, who had de- 
 termined to "run" the sleep-walking expedient 
 again,
 
 90 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "You mean by that you got up in your sleep if 
 you got up at all?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "You were entirely unconscious when you got 
 up the other night and went off in the Greyhound 
 were you?" 
 
 "Of course I was." 
 
 A faint smile played upon the lips of Mr. Grant, 
 while the faces of Uncle Obed and Mr. Presby 
 wore a decidedly comical expression. Though Rich- 
 ard could not see "where the laugh came in," he 
 was conscious that he had placed himself in a ludi- 
 crous attitude. 
 
 "And you were asleep last night when you went 
 out were you?" continued Mr. Grant. 
 
 "If I went out, I suppose I was," replied Rich- 
 ard, going to the window and looking out, thus 
 turning his back to those in the room. 
 
 He could not bear the penetrating gaze of his 
 father, and the quizzing glances of Mr. Presby 
 and Uncle Obed were utterly insupportable. 
 
 "Mr. Presby, you have devoted considerable at-
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 91 
 
 tention to the phenomena of sleep-walking," added 
 Uncle Obed. "What do you think of this case?" 
 
 "I think it is the most remarkable one on rec- 
 ord," replied the philosopher, whose smile had 
 grown into a broad grin. "Richard, I am deeply 
 interested in the investigation of this matter, and 
 I want to ask you a few questions. Will you oblige 
 me by answering them?" 
 
 "I will if I can," said Richard, rather doggedly, 
 for he was fully satisfied, by this time, that the old 
 gentleman was quizzing him. 
 
 "If you can, then, will you be kind enough to 
 tell me whether Sandy Brimblecom was asleep or 
 not when he joined you in the boat at the point 
 below Whitestone?" 
 
 "Who? Sandy joined me?" stammered Rich- 
 ard, staggered by this home thrust of the friend of 
 the family. 
 
 "Yes; I am very anxious to know whether there 
 is a sympathy between sleep-walkers which draws 
 them together, even though separated by miles of 
 space." 
 
 Richard made no reply; he had none to make.
 
 92 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 He had no idea how much his tormentors knew of 
 the events of the night. 
 
 "You don't answer, my boy. I have been the 
 butt of your uncle for the last week on account of 
 my devotion to the cause of science. I have stud- 
 ied your case very thoroughly, and I may want to 
 make a report of it to the scientific associations." 
 
 "Why don't you answer him, Dick?" added 
 Uncle Obed, who, notwithstanding the serious char- 
 acter of the matter, could not restrain his laughter 
 at the ludicrous side of the question. 
 
 "I don't care about your making fun of me," 
 replied the poor somnambulist. 
 
 "My dear boy, this is a scientific, a physiological 
 investigation. You pulled out the nails which your 
 father had driven into the window; you skulked 
 away from the house ; you went down to your boat, 
 got under way in a squally, dark night, and met 
 another sleep-walker on the other side of the river 
 I presume he was asleep, for you do not say to 
 the contrary; you sailed down the river to a cer- 
 tain inlet; you landed, and went up to Mr. Batter- 
 man's barn ; you removed the horses and oxen from
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 93 
 
 it; you poured turpentine upon a bunch of loose 
 hay prepared for the purpose; you lighted your 
 matches and set fire to it ; and all the while you were 
 fast asleep. And you returned home and went to 
 bed again without waking. Really, my dear boy, 
 this is the most astonishing case of somnambulism 
 on record. I have vainly looked over my books 
 for a parallel instance. Can you tell me what your 
 dreams were last night ? Did you dream anything 
 of this kind?" 
 
 Richard was filled with dismay at this recital of 
 the events of the night. The mysterious boat he 
 had twice seen was the only explanation of the 
 minuteness of Mr. Presby's details that suggested 
 itself to his mind. 
 
 "You talked quite rationally in your sleep, which 
 is a new development in somnambulism. But, 
 after all," continued the devotee of science, "the 
 phenomena of last night were not near so remark- 
 able as those of the former occasion. By the way, 
 my dear boy, do sleep-walkers have any particular 
 fondness for watermelons?" 
 
 Uncle Obed laughed outright at this sally, and
 
 94 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 even Mr. Grant, wounded as his paternal heart 
 was by the discovery, could not help smiling, 
 though he felt more like weeping than laughing. 
 
 "You are silent, my dear boy," resumed Mr. 
 Presby. "This is an important physiological in- 
 quiry, and you would enlarge the sphere of human 
 knowledge of this interesting subject if you would 
 
 answer me." 
 
 Richard was inclined to get into a passion, but 
 the consciousness of his guilt restrained him, and 
 he listened in silence to the satirical remarks of the 
 old gentleman. 
 
 "But the most astounding fact of all is, that you 
 could take such an unmerciful flogging as Mr. Bat- 
 terman gave you without waking up," continued 
 the inquisitor. "Perhaps you did wake under this 
 cruel infliction, but went to sleep again when the 
 castigation was over. Can you inform me on this 
 point?" 
 
 "You have made fun enough of me," replied 
 Richard; but his words were very tame, consider- 
 ing the amount of provocation he had endured. 
 
 "Were you asleep, Richard, on these two nights
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 95 
 
 when you have been prowling about the neighbor- 
 hood?" demanded his father sternly. 
 
 "No, sir, I was not," said Richard, to whom the 
 ridicule of Mr. Presby and Uncle Obed was more 
 terrible than any punishment he could receive for 
 his misdeeds. 
 
 "I am glad to see you have some honesty left in 
 your composition. You acknowledge the decep- 
 tion, and we will let the farce end here. You have 
 become a thief and a midnight incendiary. I have 
 been weak and indulgent toward you. My eyes 
 are opened, and I shall pursue a different course." 
 
 Mr. Grant's lip trembled with emotion as he 
 spoke. Mr. Presby and Uncle Obed suddenly be- 
 came very serious, and it was plain to the culprit 
 that the farce had really ended. 
 
 "Richard, I knew you were wild, and even disso- 
 lute, but I did not think you would steal," added 
 Mr. Grant, with deep feeling. 
 
 "It was only for fun, father," pleaded Richard. 
 
 "Do you practise the trade of the incendiary for 
 fun ?" asked his father sternly.
 
 9(5 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "That was only because Mr. Batterman flogged 
 me. He had no business to do that." 
 
 "And so you would burn his barn ?" 
 
 "I didn't burn it." 
 
 "It would have burned to the ground, if Mr. 
 Presby and Ben had not put the fire out. I have 
 let my friend expose you in his own way, because 
 the trouble he has taken reveals to me your true 
 character. You are worse than your dissolute com- 
 panions. Richard, you have become a villain !" 
 
 Mr. Grant rose from his chair and walked away 
 to hide the tears which this sad revelation of his 
 son's character drew from his eyes. 
 
 "He is not so bad as he might be," interposed 
 Mr. Presby. "Remember that he saved the ani- 
 mals in the barn." 
 
 "The record is black even with this redeeming 
 line," said Mr. Grant. "I would rather follow 
 my son to his grave than have him become such a 
 wretch as you are, Richard. Shall I let you take 
 the consequences of your crime?" 
 
 "What consequences, father?" asked Richard,
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 97 
 
 with a degree of humility he had never before ex- 
 hibited. 
 
 "Are you a simpleton? Don't you know the 
 penalty of your crime?" 
 
 "We didn't burn the barn." 
 
 "In the eye of the law you are just as guilty as 
 though the barn had burned to the ground. If 
 convicted you would be sent to the State prison. 
 I have made up my mind what to do with you," 
 said Mr. Grant, as he walked out of the room, for 
 his emotions would no longer permit him to re- 
 main. 
 
 "You have got into a bad scrape, Dick," added 
 Uncle Obed, as he shook his head, and followed his 
 brother, leaving the culprit alone with Mr. Presby. 
 
 "He will not let them send me to the State 
 prison?" said Richard, fearful that his father 
 might have abandoned all hope of redeeming him 
 from the error of his ways. 
 
 "You have been a very bad boy," replied Mr. 
 Presby. 
 
 "I am very sorry for it, and I mean to do bet- 
 ter."
 
 98 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 *1 hope you will, my dear boy. Your father 
 has suffered terribly since I returned, and poor 
 Bertha has done nothing but weep for the last two 
 hours. You are ruining yourself and wounding the 
 hearts of your friends more than words can de- 
 scribe." 
 
 "I will try to do better." 
 
 "Your father will not trust you again." 
 
 "What is he going to do?" 
 
 "He will inform you himself," replied Mr. 
 Presby, as he withdrew from the room. 
 
 Richard was alone with his own thoughts and 
 fears. He felt as though his career had reached 
 its close, though he could not imagine what terrible 
 thing his father intended to do. He was really 
 sorry for what he had done, whether his sorrow 
 was caused by a genuine feeling that he had done 
 wrong, or by the fear of punishment. 
 
 His mind was in a confused state; the past with 
 its sorrows, and the future with its terrors, whirled 
 through his brain. He wanted time for reflection, 
 and leaving the house, he walked down to the pier 
 to deliberate upon the situation.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 99 
 
 Ben was there, and Richard began to question 
 him, for Mr. Presby had intimated that the boat- 
 man was with him the night before. From him 
 he learned all the facts in regard to their move- 
 ments. It appeared that the old gentleman had 
 heard Richard when he opened the window, and 
 had watched him closely, fully satisfied, however, 
 that he was asleep. 
 
 When Mr. Presby, from the roof of the conser- 
 vatory, had noted the direction he took, he had 
 closed the window, and called the boatman to as- 
 sist him. They had followed him in the large sail- 
 boat, and landed near the point where Sandy was 
 taken on board the Greyhound. By this time Ben's 
 original idea that Richard was wide awake was 
 adopted by Mr. Presby. By the exercise of great 
 skill and caution, they had kept near the boys, and 
 had put out the fire almost as soon as it was kin- 
 dled. 
 
 While they were still on the ground, Mr. Bat- 
 terman, who had been awakened by the bright light 
 of the burning hay, made his appearance. He 
 found the two old men in the very act of putting
 
 100 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 out the fire. Mr. Presby smothered the flames by 
 throwing his greatcoat upon it. 
 
 "Now, Mr. Richcrd," continued the boatman, 
 "Mr. Presby saved you. He was acquainted with 
 Batterman, and has a mortgage on his farm. The 
 farmer suspected who had attempted to burn his 
 building; he laid it to you at once, and told us 
 all about the scrape when you stole the melons. 
 You don't know how mad he was, Mr. Richard. 
 But Mr. Presby made it all right with him, and 
 he promised not to prosecute. Mr. Richard, you 
 had better not walk in your sleep any more." 
 
 Richard did not like this last remark, and he 
 walked down the pier. The State prison was only 
 a bugbear then; but his father meant to do some- 
 thing. He was about to get into his skiff to visit 
 the Greyhound when Ben hailed him. 
 
 "My orders are not to let you have any of the 
 boats," said he. 
 
 The new order of things had begun, and he re- 
 turned to the house. His father was in the sitting- 
 room when he entered. 
 
 "Richard," said Mr. Grant, "to-morrow you will
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 101 
 
 leave home for some months. I have decided to 
 place you in a boarding-school, where you will be 
 under the eye of one who is competent to manage 
 you." 
 
 This was the great matter which a little fire had 
 kindled.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 RICHARD GOES TO THE TUNBROOK MILITARY 
 INSTITUTE 
 
 RICHARD had several times before been threat- 
 ened with a residence at a boarding-school. Most 
 of his education had been obtained at home, under 
 the superintendence of tutors and special teachers 
 in various branches. He had been under little or 
 no restraint ; and the consequence was that his men- 
 tal discipline had been very imperfect, and his stock 
 of knowledge was small, considering the opportu- 
 nities he had enjoyed. 
 
 His father had long been conscious of his de- 
 ficiencies, and proposed to send him to a boarding- 
 school, for the benefit of its discipline; but Rich- 
 ard was so averse to the idea that his father had 
 from time to time postponed his departure. When 
 Mr. Grant saw his son associating with bad boys 
 he again proposed to send him, and had actually 
 
 102
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 103 
 
 sought out a suitable place for him; but his own 
 financial trials and troubles had prevented him from 
 executing his purpose. 
 
 If Richard's education had failed to develop his 
 intellect in an adequate degree, it had built up a 
 sound and vigorous constitution. Riding on horse- 
 back, sailing and rowing, had been pastimes for 
 which he had sacrificed intellectual culture. But 
 there was still time to remedy this deficiency, for the 
 youth was hardly sixteen. 
 
 The establishment which Mr. Grant had selected 
 for the future residence of his son was the Tun- 
 brook Military Institute, under the superintendence 
 of Colonel Brockridge. This place had been chosen 
 not because it was a military institution, but be- 
 cause its principal was a thorough disciplinarian. 
 He had the reputation of being a just and fair man, 
 and was very popular with boys of strong constitu- 
 tion and decisive temperaments. No "milk-and- 
 water" boys were ever sent to him ; or, if they were, 
 they soon left the Institute, or became vigorous and 
 decided in their habits. 
 
 Colonel Brockridge had been in the army,
 
 104 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 though his title was won in the militia. He was 
 a thorough teacher, and was conscientious and 
 faithful in the discharge of his duties to those who 
 were entrusted to his care. He was a "positive 
 man," and no fear of what the father or mother 
 would say or do ever induced him to alter his plans 
 or change his purposes. 
 
 Though the Institute was conducted on military 
 principles, it was not peculiarly the school of the 
 soldier. The principal believed in discipline; this 
 was his hobby; and he believed that he could best 
 secure system and order by adopting military rou- 
 tine. His success justified his theory. He had 
 more applicants than he had places. 
 
 Richard knew all about the Tunbrook Military 
 Institute. He had carefully read its circular, and 
 its rules and regulations. They did not suit him. 
 He was not a devotee of discipline, in its applica- 
 tion to himself. He was very impatient of re- 
 straint, as the reader has already seen, and he did 
 not like the idea of being sent to this Institute. 
 
 When his father had given him his final sentence 
 he retired to his chamber. The shame which at-
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 105 
 
 tended the discovery of his guilt still rested heavily 
 upon him, and he was in a more humble and tract- 
 able mood than usual. Under ordinary circum- 
 stances he would have rebelled against the decision 
 of his father. He would have frightened his sister 
 by threatening to run away to sea. It is true this 
 thought occurred to him on the present occasion; 
 but Ben had told him enough about the life of a 
 sailor to convince him that he should not improve 
 his condition by such a course. 
 
 There seemed to be no alternative but passive 
 obedience. He did not want to go, but he felt that 
 his father must certainly conquer if he attempted 
 to resist. He had always had his own way to a 
 very great extent. He had always been a con- 
 queror himself at least he felt so, and he could 
 not endure the thought of being compelled to yield 
 implicit obedience to any person. 
 
 At this time Richard's thoughts took a peculiar 
 turn. The shame he endured, the reproaches that 
 had been heaped upon him, caused him to feel that 
 there was something wanting in his character. -The 
 path in which he had been traveling, for the first
 
 106 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 time in his life, seemed to lead to destruction. 
 When he considered that he had been detected in 
 the act of stealing, and of setting fire to a barn, 
 and in practising a gross and wicked deception, he 
 felt that his road was down hill; that he should 
 become a dissolute and worthless man. 
 
 He was sitting on the stool of repentance. From 
 a prudential penitence he had arrived at a genuine 
 one. Something must be done. There was some- 
 thing to be conquered. There was a harder battle 
 before him than any he had yet fought. He was 
 master of the boats, of the horses, of the servants, 
 and even of his companions at Whitestone; but 
 there was one whom he had never conquered one 
 that held him in leading-strings, and was pulling 
 him down to ruin and destruction. 
 
 He must conquer himself. 
 
 Richard had had such thoughts as these before, 
 but they had never seemed so substantial as now. 
 He felt the necessity of reforming his life and char- 
 acter of conquering himself, his greatest enemy. 
 As he looked upon his dissolute course, upon the 
 events of the preceding night, and its fellow a week
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 107 
 
 before, he was disgusted with himself, and won- 
 dered how he could so easily embrace his besetting 
 sin. 
 
 While he was engaged in these reflections his 
 sister Bertha entered his chamber. She had heard 
 of the sentence, and she had come to comfort him. 
 Her eyes were still red with weeping, for she had 
 almost lost hope of the reform of her brother. 
 
 "I have been trying to see you for the last two 
 hours," said she, as she sat down by his side. 
 
 "Don't cry any more, Berty," said he, with un- 
 wonted tenderness. 
 
 "I will try not to do so, Richard. Father says 
 you are going away to-morrow." 
 
 "Yes, Berty, I suppose I am," replied he, with 
 an appearance of resignation. 
 
 "I shall miss you very much." 
 
 "It will be a good miss won't it?" 
 
 "Why, Richard ! You don't think so do you ?" 
 
 "Well, I have been a kind of nuisance to you." 
 
 "No, Richard ; don't say that." 
 
 "I have been in all sorts of scrapes."
 
 108 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "I would a great deal rather have you stay at 
 
 home, and and " 
 
 "And be a good boy," added Richard. 
 
 "That's what I mean, Richard." 
 
 "Berty, I think I have sowed all my wild oats 
 
 now." 
 
 "I hope so." 
 
 "I suppose I have been a very bad boy," said he, 
 with a kind of deprecating smile, as though he did 
 not believe more than one-half he said. 
 
 "It was all those bad boys you went with; if 
 it hadn't been for them, you would have done very 
 well. That Sandy Brimblecom hasn't done you 
 any good." 
 
 "I hope I haven't done him any hurt, Berty. I 
 won't be mean when I get into trouble. I don't 
 think Sandy is any worse than I am. I don't know 
 but that he is a little better. I suppose he and I 
 must part company now." 
 
 "It will be all for the best." 
 
 "Berty, I am off to-morrow. I have given you 
 a great deal of trouble. I mean to do better. I 
 am going to turn over a new leaf."
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 109 
 
 "Oh, I hope so, Richard!" 
 
 "I moan so, this time." 
 
 "I am so glad!" 
 
 "Don't you think father will let me stay at home 
 if I do well?" 
 
 "Perhaps he will." 
 
 "I don't like the idea of being put into a strait- 
 jacket and tied to a bell rope." 
 
 "It would be hard for you." 
 
 "I can't stand it, anyhow. I have made up my 
 mind to be a saint. I intend to keep out of all 
 scrapes, and behave with perfect propriety all the 
 time, night and day." 
 
 "I hope you are not jesting, Richard," said Ber- 
 tha, who did not like the facetious language with 
 which he clothed his resolutions. 
 
 "I'm in earnest. I mean every word I say. I 
 solemnly promise you that I will be a pattern of 
 propriety; but I don't like the Tunbrook Military 
 Institute. I don't like the idea of being tied down 
 to Colonel Brockridge's little finger; of being 
 drummed and fifed here and there; and of reciting 
 a Latin lesson at six o'clock in the morning, after
 
 110 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 an hour's drill on the parade ground. Berty, to tell 
 you the truth, I don't believe I shall be able to keep 
 my good resolutions if I am to be tied to a bell rope, 
 or have to move by the tap of a drum." 
 
 "I hope you will." 
 
 "If I could stay at home, and have my pony and 
 my boat, I should do first-rate." 
 
 Whatever the experienced reader may think of 
 Richard's sincerity, he was uttering an honest opin- 
 ion. He sincerely feared that his courage would 
 not be equal to the work of submitting to the disci- 
 pline of Tunbrook, and conquering himself, at one 
 and the same time. Tunbrook and Colonel Brock- 
 ridge seemed to be formidable obstacles in the path 
 of reform. 
 
 "You would soon get used to the discipline of 
 the Institute," suggested Bertha. 
 
 "I might get used to it as the old man's horse 
 got used to living upon shavings when he died. 
 If I go, I shall try to submit; but I don't want to 
 
 go-" 
 
 "I don't see how it can be avoided. Father is 
 determined that you shall go."
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 111 
 
 "You can save me from this straitjacket, if you 
 will, Berty." 
 
 "What can I do, Richard?" 
 
 "Mr. Presby will do anything you ask him to 
 do. You can tell him that you think it would in- 
 jure me to be sent to Tunbrook. Then he can talk 
 with father about it; and father will do anything 
 that Mr. Presby wishes." 
 
 Bertha promised to speak to Mr. Presby about 
 the matter, and she did so at once; but instead of 
 Bertha convincing him that it would injure Richard 
 to be sent to the military school, he convinced her 
 that it would be the best thing in the world for him. 
 
 "I am afraid I spoiled my own children by over- 
 indulgence, and I cannot counsel your father to do 
 the same thing," said the old gentleman, with deep 
 feeling. 
 
 Bertha returned to her brother with his answer. 
 Richard was not angry, as she feared he would be, 
 and this was a very hopeful sign. But he went 
 over his argument against straitjackets, bell ropes, 
 and drums and fifes, once more, and then proposed 
 that he should be put on probation for one or two
 
 112 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 months, and if he did anything wrong, he would 
 submit without a murmur. 
 
 Bertha went to Mr. Presby again, and was so 
 far successful that the old gentleman agreed to 
 speak with Mr. Grant in the evening. He kept 
 his promise, but the father carried a stronger argu- 
 ment than the friend of the family. Richard wa-s 
 doomed to go to the military institute, and the 
 fact was patent to him before he retired. He felt 
 as though he wanted to submit, but the uncon- 
 quered enemy that had so often led him astray was 
 rebellious. 
 
 He did not sleep well that night. He was ex- 
 cited by the prospect before him. His good reso- 
 lutions seemed to be very shaky, and he found him- 
 self running away from them. When he heard the 
 clock strike twelve, he actually jumped out of bed, 
 under a sudden impulse, fully resolved to run away 
 and go to sea. He thought he would take the 
 Greyhound and make his way down to the city ana 
 ship the next day. He put on a portion of his 
 clothes, under the influence of this impulse. 
 
 "This would be becoming a saint with a venge-
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT* 113 
 
 ance !" said he to himself, as he threw off his 
 clothes and got into bed again. "I told Bertha I 
 would try to submit, and I will." 
 
 This was the first decided advantage which Rich- 
 ard had gained over his great enemy; but the bat- 
 tle was a mere skirmish with the outposts of the 
 potent foe. It was a victory, however, and it 
 strengthened him. It improved the morale of his 
 fighting element. 
 
 He had resisted temptation, and angels minis- 
 tered unto him. While they ministered peace 
 came, and he fell asleep. 
 
 At an early hour in the morning he was called 
 by his father. With the assistance of Bertha he 
 packed his trunk and prepared himself for the 
 journey. He was sad, but submissive. At nine 
 o'clock, having bid adieu to all his friends, and 
 taken a sorrowful survey of Woodville, he and his 
 father were driven down to the railroad station. 
 
 Before night they reached Tunbrook, and Rich- 
 ard was introduced to the terrible Colonel Brock- 
 ridge. He was a little man of fifty, with great 
 bushy red whiskers, whose whole face seemed to
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 be eclipsed by the wonderful sharpness of his eyes. 
 He shook hands with Richard, spoke to him very 
 kindly, and hoped they should be good friends. 
 The new recruit was shown to his quarters, as his 
 room was called, and Mr. Grant took his leave. 
 Richard felt that he was alone with the future.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 RICHARD LEARNS THE MEANING OF RIGHT ABOUT 
 
 FACE 
 
 THE apartment to which Richard was shown 
 was called "Barrack B." There were ten rooms 
 of this kind, known by the first ten letters of the 
 alphabet, omitting J. Each barrack contained 
 twenty narrow iron bedsteads, and no two boys 
 were allowed to occupy the same bed. At the head 
 of each barrack there was an alcove large enough 
 to contain the bed of the assistant teacher, who had 
 charge of the pupils in the room. This apartment 
 of the instructor was screened from the view of the 
 boys by a curtain, so that he could see without being 
 seen, when he desired to do so. 
 
 There was a small closet in the wall between 
 every two beds, for the use of the boys, and Rich- 
 ard was directed to transfer the contents of his 
 trunk to this receptacle by Mr. Ganlt, the assistant 
 
 115
 
 116 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 teacher in charge of Barrack B. Richard opened 
 the trunk, and then sat down upon the bed to wait 
 until the instructor should retire, for he did not 
 care to exhibit his wardrobe to a stranger. 
 
 "Proceed, if you please," said Mr. Gault. 
 
 "I think I will do this business by myself," re- 
 plied Richard. 
 
 "According to a rule of the Institute, the ward- 
 robe of each pupil must be inspected," said the 
 teacher. 
 
 "Inspected?" asked the recruit. "What for?" 
 
 "To see that no improper articles are brought 
 in." 
 
 "I would rather not," added Richard. 
 
 "The rule is imperative," said Mr. Gault de- 
 cidedly. 
 
 The strait] acket had already begun to oppress 
 the male heir of Woodville, and he was disposed 
 to resent the indignity, as he deemed it ; but almost 
 the last words of Bertha had been an injunction 
 to observe the rules of the school, however dis- 
 tasteful they might be. Reluctantly, and with the 
 feeling that he was sacrificing his independence,
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 117 
 
 Richard transferred his clothing to the closet as- 
 signed to him. Mr. Gault carefully watched the 
 proceeding, and confiscated several articles which 
 were declared to be contraband, among which were 
 some cakes and other sweetmeats, prepared by Ber- 
 tha, and several yellow-covered novels he had pur- 
 chased in Whitestone. 
 
 "Can't I have those things?" asked Richard. 
 
 "No, sir; no boy belonging to the Institute is 
 allowed to eat cake on the premises." 
 
 "Why not." 
 
 "We do not explain to boys the reason for every- 
 thing we do," replied Mr. Gault, rather curtly. 
 
 "I don't think you have any right to take my 
 property away from me." 
 
 "I don't ask your opinion, and it is of no value 
 whatever." 
 
 "You needn't be so crusty about it," said Rich- 
 ard, who was wholly unused to this style of re- 
 mark. 
 
 "We tolerate no impudence here. If you use 
 an expression of that kind again, you will be put
 
 118 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 under arrest, and spend the night in the guard- 
 house." 
 
 Richard's blood was beginning to boil, and he 
 was tempted to pitch into the insolent instructor 
 who dared to use language of that kind to the only 
 son of the proprietor of Woodville. But he did 
 not want to get into trouble the first day; besides, 
 the words "arrest" and "guard house" had a very 
 ominous sound to him. 
 
 "Can't I have my books? They are not cake," 
 asked Richard. 
 
 "No, sir; you cannot. Such trash as that is not 
 fit for boys to read. Your property will be kept 
 safely for you, and when you leave the school you 
 can have it again." 
 
 "The cake will not be very good then." 
 
 "You can do anything you please with it, except 
 eat it. You can sell it, or give it away." 
 
 "You can do what you like with it." 
 
 "Very well. Have you any money about you?" 
 
 "I have." 
 
 "You will hand it to me, and a receipt for the 
 amount will be forwarded to your father."
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 119 
 
 "Do you mean to rob me?" demanded Richard, 
 his face flushing at this new indignity. 
 
 "I refer you to the regulations of the Institute. 
 We provide everything the boys require, and they 
 have no more use for money than they have for 
 wings." 
 
 "I won't give up my money." 
 
 "Very well, sir. I will refer the matter to 
 Colonel Brockridge, and you may settle it with him. 
 Follow me, if you please," said Mr. Gault, after 
 Richard had locked the trunk containing the con- 
 traband articles. 
 
 The new scholar followed the teacher to the 
 office of the principal on the first floor. He was 
 very uneasy and nervous, and almost wished he had 
 given up his money. But he felt that the tutor 
 was carrying things altogether too far. It was sub- 
 jecting him to a needless indignity. 
 
 "This young man refuses to give up his money," 
 said Mr. Gault to the colonel, who was writing at 
 his desk. 
 
 Without waiting to ascertain the result of the 
 interview, the assistant departed, leaving the obdu-
 
 120 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 rate youth alone with the owner of those terribly 
 sharp eyes. 
 
 "Have you read our regulations, Grant?" said 
 Colonel Brockridge, turning round and looking the 
 recruit full in the face. 
 
 But there was a pleasant smile upon his face, 
 and his words were gentle, and even respectful. 
 
 "Yes, sir," replied Richard. 
 
 "Then you are aware that pupils are not allowed 
 to have money are you not?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Boys are tempted to purchase various articles 
 which injure them, such as cakes and candy, and 
 improper books. Therefore we think it is better 
 that they should not be provided with money. Is 
 this a satisfactory explanation?" 
 
 "I don't know but it is, sir," replied Richard 
 doubtfully. 
 
 "It satisfies me, at any rate. How much money 
 have you?" 
 
 "About five dollars." 
 
 "Now, Grant, if you will hand it to me, I will 
 give you a receipt for it, or send it to your father.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 121 
 
 I will keep it, subject to your order, if you desire 
 it." 
 
 "I don't like the rule, air." 
 
 "I think it is an excellent rule. But you waste 
 my time. Your decision, Grant." 
 
 "I should like to think of the matter, sir." 
 
 "Your decision at once," said the colonel; and 
 Richard saw the sharp eyes grow a shade sharper, 
 and heard the deep voice grow a shade sterner. 
 
 The recruit winced under the necessity thus laid 
 upon him. The principal could not be trifled with, 
 and he must either submit or take the consequences, 
 which were so indefinite to him that they seemed 
 sufficiently terrible. 
 
 "I will give up the money," said he, with a strug- 
 gle, as he handed his wallet to the colonel. 
 
 "I am glad to find you are a discreet and sensi- 
 ble youth," added the colonel, as he wrote the re- 
 ceipt, and handed it, with the wallet, from which 
 he had taken the money, back to the owner. "If 
 you wish to use money for any proper purpose, you 
 can draw on me, and your paper shall be honored to 
 the extent of the funds in my hands."
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "I don't think I am likely to want money here," 
 answered Richard, gloomily. 
 
 "Every needed article will be furnished. Now, 
 Grant, I am afraid you have come here with an 
 intention to resist our wholesome regulations. If 
 so, you must learn the meaning of 'right about, 
 face' in its moral application, I mean. Your 
 father has told me all about you, and given me 
 explicit instructions to make a man of you. I un- 
 derstand your case perfectly. If you are disposed 
 to observe the rules of the Institute, we shall treat 
 you like a gentleman. The future is before you, 
 young man, and you must choose for yourself." 
 
 "I intend to obey the rules, sir," said Richard, 
 rather crestfallen after what had happened. 
 
 "I am very glad to hear you say so. In a few 
 days you will be provided with the uniform worn 
 by the pupils of the Institute. Here is a time 
 card for the fall term. Look it over carefully, for 
 you will be required to conform to it very strictly. 
 To-morrow morning you will take your place with 
 the boys, and go through with the programme just 
 as though you had been here all your lifetime. We
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 123 
 
 make no allowances for beginners; they will have 
 seasonable warning, and they must be on the ground 
 promptly at the moment. There will be a dress 
 parade in a few moments, and you can go out and 
 witness it, if you choose," said Colonel Brockridge, 
 as he handed Richard the card. "After supper 
 Mr. Gault will introduce you to the boys of your 
 barrack." 
 
 Richard took the card, and left the room. As 
 he passed out of the building he descried the boys 
 at play on the lawn. They were all dressed in a 
 uniform of gray cloth, though some wore a loose 
 blouse, and some, in the heat of play, had thrown 
 off their jackets. The new scholar walked over to 
 the flagstaff, where the stars and stripes were fly- 
 ing, and seated himself on a bench. The boys 
 seemed to be having a good time, in spite of the 
 strictness of the discipline. As he listened to the 
 tremendous noise they made, and saw the rough- 
 and-tumble games in which they were engaged, he 
 became convinced that the Institute was not of the 
 Blember style, and he began to have some hope 
 that he should survive the shock.
 
 124, IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 While he was waiting for the dress parade he 
 examined the time card given him by the principal. 
 To him it had a decidedly straitjacket odor, and he 
 read it with a feeling of repugnance, not to say dis- 
 gust. It was as follows : 
 
 TUNBROOK MILITARY INSTITUTE 
 
 FALL TERM 
 
 From Sept. i to Dec. I 
 6 A. M. Reveille. 
 6.30 " Study. 
 7.30 Breakfast. 
 
 8 " Squad Drill. 
 
 9 Study and Recitation. 
 II " Battalion Drill. 
 
 I P. M. Dinner. 
 
 1.30 " Recreation. 
 
 j$ Study and Recitation. 
 
 '5 Recreation. 
 
 6 " Dress Parade. 
 
 6.30 Supper. 
 
 7, ' Off Time. 
 
 9 " Retire.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 125 
 
 'Off Time" belongs to the student; but 
 deficient lessons must be made up during these 
 hours. 
 
 USir'Camp duty will be performed by all stu- 
 dents for one week, in each term, except the winter 
 term. J. BROCKRIDGE, 
 
 PRINCIPAL. 
 
 Richard thought the time card was rather for- 
 midable, but he came to the conclusion that he 
 could stand it, if the rest of the boys could. 
 
 While he was musing upon the present and the 
 future, the rattling drum sounded, and the boys 
 instantly suspended their play. In a moment the 
 whole crowd had disappeared within the buildings 
 that flanked the lawn; but presently the rattle of 
 several drums was heard, and one company after 
 another marched upon the parade ground, and 
 formed the line. Every boy was dressed in full 
 uniform now, the blouses and other non-conform- 
 ing garments having been thrown aside, and every 
 one wore white gloves. 
 
 Richard fround that the teachers were not the
 
 126 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 officers of the companies, or the battalion, as he 
 had expected. Several of the instructors were pres- 
 ent, but they appeared to take no part in the pro- 
 ceedings. Everything was managed by the boys, 
 apparently without any assistance from the teach- 
 ers. The captains, lieutenants, sergeants, and cor- 
 porals were all in appropriate uniform, with their 
 rank designated as in the United States army. The 
 swords and muskets were genuine weapons, though 
 not so large and heavy as those used by older sol- 
 diers. The students varied in age from fourteen 
 to eighteen. 
 
 The various evolutions of the dress parade were 
 regularly performed. The adjutant announced to 
 the major that the parade was formed; the band, 
 consisting of eight pieces, marched up and down 
 the line; the first sergeants reported "all present or 
 accounted for," and the company officers marched 
 up to the commander of the battalion. The boys 
 were as rigid as statues when the order, "Parade 
 rest," was given. The companies marched back 
 to the armories, broke ranks, and were dismissed. 
 
 Richard was delighted with this exhibition, and
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 127 
 
 the Tunbrook Military Institute went up many de- 
 grees in his estimation. He followed the boys into 
 the supper room, where, without much ceremony, 
 he made the acquaintance of several captains and 
 lieutenants. He received a hearty welcome from 
 his new associates, and began to feel very much at 
 home. 
 
 The supper was not exactly what he had been 
 accustomed to at Woodville, but it was plain, 
 wholesome food ; and when he saw officers and pri- 
 vates, from the major down to the drummers, par- 
 take of it with hearty relish, he was not disposed 
 to grumble. 
 
 After supper the boys scattered in every direc- 
 tion. Some went outdoors, some to the barracks, 
 some to the schoolrooms. It was "off-time," and 
 without much assistance from Mr. Gault, who at- 
 tempted to introduce him, he made the acquaint- 
 ance of half the students in the Institute. At nine 
 o'clock the sound of the drum rolled through the 
 halls, and the boys all retired.
 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 RICHARD GOES THROUGH THE DRILL, AND HAS A 
 SET-TO IN THE GROVE 
 
 RICHARD slept very well, and was attending to 
 the business of sleeping with great pertinacity, when 
 the reveille sounded at six o'clock in the morning. 
 He did not feel much like getting up, and though 
 the other boys in Barrack B instantly jumped out 
 of bed, he did not heed the summons. It went 
 against his grain to get up at the sound of a drum, 
 or of a bell; not that he cared to lie in bed any 
 longer, but the principle of the thing was utterly 
 objectionable. 
 
 "Come, Grant," said the boy who occupied one 
 of the beds next to him, in a kind and friendly 
 tone, "it's time to turn out." 
 
 "I suppose it is," yawned Richard, "but I'm not 
 quite ready to get up yet." 
 
 "Better get up at once. They call the roll at 
 
 128
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 129 
 
 half-past six. You are in our company, you 
 know." 
 
 "Suppose I don't get up what then?" 
 
 "It will be all the worse for you." 
 
 "What will they do?" 
 
 "I don't know; but fellows don't like to be late 
 at roll-call." 
 
 Richard concluded to get up, for he preferred to 
 see a punishment inflicted upon some one besides 
 himself before he got into trouble. Bailey for 
 this was the name of the boy next to him told 
 him what to do, and where to go, till they made 
 their appearance at the armory of Company D, to 
 which the recruit had been assigned. They were 
 then sent to the school-room for an hour's study. 
 Richard was examined to ascertain his attainments, 
 and placed in a class, and he was told to prepare 
 himself for the lessons of the day. There was no 
 great hardship in this, and as Richard's talents 
 were of a high order, he had no difficulty in per- 
 forming the work assigned to him. 
 
 The breakfast call scattered the boys again, and 
 they were soon reassembled in the dining-room.
 
 ISO IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 When they were seated profound silence reigned 
 throughout the apartment. The principal, all the 
 assistant teachers, and every one else belonging to 
 the establishment, were present. The chaplain 
 then read a short passage from the Scriptures, 
 which was followed by a prayer, the whole service 
 occupying not more than three or four minutes. 
 
 The breakfast consisted of coffee, beefsteak, po- 
 tatoes, with cold bread and butter. The newcomer 
 was perfectly satisfied with this fare, and taking it 
 as a sample of his living, he did not believe he 
 should starve. 
 
 "What next, Nevers?" asked Richard of the boy 
 who sat next to him, and who wore the designation 
 of an orderly sergeant. 
 
 "Squad drill, my boy. We shall give you some 
 now," replied Nevers. "We begin to find out what 
 a fellow is made of on drill." 
 
 There was a little spare time before the drill 
 came on, and the new student improved it by in- 
 quiring particularly into the nature of his duties. 
 Bailey was patient and communicative, and he ob- 
 tained from him all the information he wanted.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 131 
 
 Again the drum rattled, and the boys made their 
 way to the several armories. The doors and win- 
 dows were thrown open, and the drill commenced. 
 It was conducted by Mr. Gault, who was assisted 
 by various officers of the company. 
 
 "Nevers," said the assistant, "you may take 
 Grant and instruct him in the positions." 
 
 Richard glanced at the orderly sergeant to whom 
 this command had been given, and the look of sat- 
 isfaction which Nevers put on did not please him. 
 
 "This way, if you please, Grant," said the young 
 orderly sergeant, as he led the way to one corner 
 of the armory. 
 
 "What are you going to do?" demanded the re- 
 cruit. 
 
 "Give you the positions." 
 
 "Are you my teacher?" 
 
 "I am ordered to give you the positions," replied 
 Nevers, chuckling with a delight which the new- 
 comer could not understand. 
 
 "You want to find out what I am made of 
 don't you?" said Richard, rememberkg what the 
 other had said to him at breakfast.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "I always obey orders." 
 
 "Well, I think I should rather be instructed by 
 the regular teachers." 
 
 "Very well; I will report to Mr. Gault." 
 
 "You needn't trouble yourself. If this is the 
 custom, go ahead. I am ready." 
 
 "Stand as I do, if you please heels on the same 
 line, feet turned out equally, knees straight." 
 
 Richard observed all these instructions, and be- 
 ing a very tractable scholar, he was soon master of 
 the positions. 
 
 "Eyes right!" continued Nevers, explaining 
 the meaning of the order. "Front." 
 
 There were three other boys, who had not yet 
 been supplied with uniforms, having come to the 
 Institute a few days before. These also were 
 placed in Nevers's care, and he began to drill them 
 in the facings. 
 
 "Attention squad," said the drill master, ex- 
 plaining what he meant, and going through with 
 the next movement. "Right face." 
 
 Richard did not come to time, and the sergeant
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 133 
 
 repeated his instructions, and gave the order again ; 
 but it was done no better than the first time. 
 
 "Move quicker, Grant. How long will it take 
 you to turn on your left heel? Now, try again. 
 Right face!" 
 
 The young gentleman from Woodville did not 
 like the style of the drill master's remarks. Though 
 he had been scrupulously polite In all he had said, 
 up to the point of Richard's failure to obey the 
 order with promptness, there was something in his 
 tone and manner that was very offensive to him. 
 Nevers seemed to feel that he was armed with au- 
 thority, and he intended to make the newcomer feel 
 it; but Richard took his own time, and after they 
 had tried half a dozen times he could not "right 
 face" till after the others had completed the move- 
 ment. 
 
 "How long will it take you to turn on your heel, 
 Grant?" said Nevers sharply, when his patience 
 had been sorely tried. 
 
 "Till you speak a little more civilly," replied 
 Richard quietly. "Perhaps not till you have found 
 out what I am made of."
 
 134 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 Nevers bit his lip at this reply. Perhaps he was 
 conscious that he ought not to have used the re- 
 mark, or he might have reported the contumacy of 
 the recruit to the assistant in charge of the room. 
 
 "We will try again," continued Nevers. "Right 
 face." 
 
 The result was no better than before; for Rich- 
 ard was so offended at the manner of the instructor 
 that he determined not to obey. 
 
 "Well, Grant, you won't get round till the first 
 day of January. You are a perfect dough-head," 
 said Nevers, the last remark being in a low tone, 
 though it was distinctly heard by the subject of it. 
 
 "All right," muttered Richard. "If you have 
 found out what my head is made of, I will show 
 you, by and by, what my fist is made of." 
 
 "Ready when you are," replied Nevers, dropping 
 his voice so that the assistant teacher could not hear 
 him. "Now, about face"; and he explained the 
 movement, and went through with it himself. 
 
 Richard having made up his mind what to do 
 when the occasion offered, did not deem it neces- 
 sary to carry his resistance any farther at present.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 135 
 
 Besides he was very desirous of learning the drill, 
 that he might join the company. His "about face," 
 therefore, was unexceptionable. 
 
 "Very well, Grant," said the drill master, in a 
 satirical tone, and with a patronizing air. 
 
 "Your praise and your censure are all the same 
 to me. Spare me both, if you please," replied 
 Richard, with a dignity becoming the male heir of 
 Woodville. 
 
 "No impudence, you puppy!" growled Nevers, 
 his cheek flushed with anger. "If Gault wasn't 
 here I'd boot you." 
 
 "I will make an opportunity for you when he is 
 not present. Do your duty like a decent fellow, 
 if you can," answered Richard. 
 
 "Squad, forward march," said Nevers, as he 
 explained how the command was to be executed. 
 
 As Richard and his companions in the squad 
 were very tractable scholars, they soon mastered 
 all the mysteries of the step in common time, and 
 were then instructed in the principles of the "double 
 quick." They were then reviewed several times 
 in what they had learned ; after which muskets were
 
 136 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 placed in their hands, and they were taught to 
 "shoulder arms," "support arms," and "present 
 
 arms." 
 
 The hour devoted to drill was finished, and in 
 spite of the overbearing manner of the instructor, 
 Richard was pleased with the exercise, and even 
 began to entertain visions of military glory. 
 
 The two hours devoted to study and recitations 
 passed off without anything to distinguish them. 
 Richard had learned his lessons, and everything 
 went off to his satisfaction. The next item on the 
 time card was the battalion drill. The recruits 
 were placed in the ranks, and for an hour and a 
 half they were exercised in the school of the bat- 
 talion ; part of the time by Colonel Brockridge, and 
 part of the time by the young gentleman who had 
 been elected by the company officers to the com-, 
 mand of the battalion Major Morgan. If Rich- 
 ard was pleased with the squad and company drill, 
 he was delighted with that of the battalion. 
 
 After dinner came the hour of recreation. Dur- 
 ing this time the boys were allowed to go anywhere 
 upon the estate, which contained about a hundred
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 137 
 
 acres of land. Some of them made up games on 
 the parade ground, and others went over to the 
 grove, a short distance from the Institute build- 
 ings. Richard and Bailey, who had become good 
 friends in the short time they had been acquainted, 
 took a walk over the estate. They found the stu- 
 dents engaged in every amusement which the genius 
 of a boy could devise, from baseball and cricket 
 down to mud dams and water wheels. 
 
 In the grove they found Nevers, whom Richard 
 was very anxious to meet. The orderly sergeant 
 was a year older than Richard, and somewhat 
 heavier. 
 
 "There is the fellow I've been looking for," said 
 Richard to his companion. 
 
 "Who Nevers?" 
 
 "Yes, that's his name." 
 
 "Do you know him?" 
 
 "He drilled our squad this morning, and took 
 the trouble to insult me several times." 
 
 "Just like him. He is the biggest bully in the 
 school."
 
 138 IX SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "I am going to knock some of his impudence out 
 of him." 
 
 "You?" exclaimed Bailey, stopping short, and 
 looking with astonishment at the newcomer. 
 
 "I am going to try it, at any rate," added Rich- 
 ard, more modestly. "I don't let any fellow insult 
 me." 
 
 "Why, he will break every bone in your body. 
 He can lick any fellow in the school." 
 
 "I don't care for that. I won't be imposed upon 
 by him." 
 
 "But it won't do; if any fellow gets up a fight 
 here it goes hard with him." 
 
 "Can't help that." 
 
 "But he will whip you, as sure as you attempt it. 
 I tell you he is the bully of the school." 
 
 "He called me a dough-head on drill this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 "If you had reported him to Mr. Gault he would 
 have punished him severely. No officer is allowed 
 to speak impudently to a private, especially to a new 
 fellow. Why didn't you report him ?"
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 139 
 
 "Because I feel able to fight my own battles; be- 
 sides I don't like the idea of being a tell-tale." 
 
 "I advise you not to touch him. He will make 
 mincemeat of you if you do." 
 
 "Perhaps he will; he shall have a chance to 
 try it." 
 
 "I should like to see him licked, and so would 
 every other fellow in the school." 
 
 "I think I can take care of him." 
 
 "Do you know anything about the science?" 
 
 "Oh, well, something," replied Richard, with as- 
 sumed indifference. 
 
 But Richard had been very thoroughly educated 
 in the science of self-defense by Bob Bleeker, who 
 had served his time as a butcher's boy in New York 
 City, and done duty there as a rough of the first 
 water. 
 
 "Nevers knows all about it. He has had half 
 a dozen pitched battles with fellows whom he bul- 
 lied, and all of them got whipped. Nevers has 
 been 'cock of the walk' for the last year, for no 
 fellow dares say a word to him." 
 
 Richard said no more, but went directly to the
 
 140 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 place where the bully was standing. He walked 
 up to him with a bold and defiant air. 
 
 "I am glad to meet you, Nevers," said he, with 
 easy self-possession. 
 
 "Are you, my fighting chicken?" laughed 
 Nevers. 
 
 "You called me a dough-head this morning," 
 added Richard. 
 
 "I did; and to make sure that there is no mis- 
 take, I repeat it You are a dough-head." 
 
 "Then take that for your impudence!" said 
 Richard, as with a sudden movement he slapped the 
 bully's face. 
 
 "A fight! A fight!" shouted the dozen boys 
 who were gathered in that part of the grove. 
 
 "What do you want, Grant?" demanded Nevers, 
 turning pale and red with rage. "Do you want me 
 to lick you?" 
 
 "If you please. You wanted to know what I am 
 made of. I am ready to show you." 
 
 "Clear the ring!" shouted the boys, forming a 
 circle round the two belligerents;. 
 
 Richard coolly threw off his jacket and vest,
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 141 
 
 rolled up his shirt sleeves, unloosed his suspenders, 
 and wound them round his waist, to support his 
 pants. Nevers threw off his jacket only. By this 
 time at least fifty boys had assembled to witness the 
 encounter; and so unpopular was the bully that 
 Richard had the sympathy of the whole crowd, 
 except a few personal friends of his opponent. 
 
 "I am all ready," said Richard, taking the most 
 approved attitude. 
 
 "So am I," replied the ready Nevers, as he edged 
 up to Richard and attempted to plant a blow by 
 the side of his head, which was handsomely parried, 
 and a left-handed rap lodged under the eye of the 
 bully. 
 
 This blow maddened Nevers, and he redoubled 
 his efforts to crush his opponent, as he had expected 
 to do at the first onset. "Keep cool, and have both 
 eyes open," had been the oft-repeated admonition 
 of Richard's distinguished instructor in the sublime 
 art of self-defense, and he carefully observed the 
 instruction. After a few more plunges on the part 
 of Nevers, he found himself on the ground, from
 
 142 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 the effect of a stunning blow which Richard had 
 given him on the side of the head. 
 
 "Are you satisfied?" called Richard, flushed with 
 victory. 
 
 "No!" yelled Nevers, as he sprang to his feet 
 and rushed upon his antagonist. 
 
 Richard's coolness enabled him to do wonders, 
 and the bully was down again in a moment more. 
 
 "Come on if you are not satisfied," said Richard, 
 whose nose was bleeding, and on whose face there 
 was a huge swelling, caused by the bully's hard fist. 
 
 "Time !" shouted the boys. 
 
 "Gault's coming! Dry up! Settle it another 
 time," added others, as they began to scatter.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 IN the language of the "prize ring," Nevers was 
 still able to "come to time"; therefore Richard 
 could not be regarded as the victor in the fierce 
 contest. The boys who formed the ring began to 
 scatter as soon as the coming of the assistant teacher 
 was announced. But they helped the combatants 
 to clothe themselves, and used every effort in their 
 power to conceal the fact that a fight had taken 
 place. 
 
 "A drawn battle," said one of the students. 
 
 "Grant," said Nevers, "I am far from being 
 satisfied. At five o'clock, if you are ready, we will 
 finish this business." 
 
 "With all my heart," replied Richard, wiping 
 the blood from his nose. 
 
 143
 
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "I hope you will do so," said the bully earnestly. 
 
 "You hope I will I Do you suppose I will not? 
 I am willing to be put under bonds to appear at the 
 time named, Nevers. If anybody backs out I shall 
 not be the one." 
 
 "I am sure I shall not." 
 
 "Good!" shouted the boys. 
 
 "Now, keep still, fellows," added Nevers. 
 "Don't say a word about it, or all the fun will be 
 spoiled." 
 
 The spectators of the barbarous spectacle all 
 promised to keep still, and Richard moved over to 
 a brook behind the grove to wash the blood from 
 his face. His opponent had sundry very bad-look- 
 ing places on his physiognomy, but no blood had 
 been drawn. 
 
 By this time Mr. Gault made his appearance in 
 the grove ; but so well did the boys play their parts 
 that he did not even suspect that any unusual event 
 had transpired. Some of them commenced a game 
 of "tag," and played with such zeal that no one 
 could have suspected they were not in earnest. 
 Others engaged in conversation, and those who had
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 145 
 
 followed Richard to the brook resumed their labors 
 upon the dam and water wheel. 
 
 Mr. Gault had no particular motive in visiting 
 the grove. He was merely taking a walk in the 
 discharge of his duty, which included a general 
 supervision of the boys on all the grounds. But 
 Richard kept out of his way, fearful lest his swelled 
 face should betray him, and thus prevent the final 
 settlement of the account. He felt like a victor 
 already, for he was perfectly confident that his 
 superior science and coolness would give him the 
 battle. 
 
 I am sorry to add that he did not think of the 
 good resolutions he had made; or, if he did, he 
 banished the thought as inconvenient and uncom- 
 fortable. He really believed that he had been 
 deeply injured by the bully of the Institute, and if 
 he did not regard it as a positive duty to obtain 
 satisfaction, he at least felt that such a course was 
 perfectly justifiable. 
 
 Nevers was the bully of the school. Weak and 
 timid boys were obliged to submit to his insults. 
 He had won the position of the "best man" in the
 
 146 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 school, and he employed his power in playing the 
 tyrant. Richard felt that he must either whip him, 
 or acknowledge him as his superior, and submit to 
 his rule. 
 
 The elementof pride alsohad a powerful influence 
 upon his mind. Bailey had told him that Nevers 
 could whip any fellow in the Institute; and it fol- 
 lowed, of course, if he could master him, he should 
 at once become the champion of the ring. Richard 
 regarded this as a proud distinction, and he was 
 quite willing to have a battered nose and a swelled 
 face in the achievement of such an honor. 
 
 More than all this, Richard was animated by the 
 generous sentiment that, in fighting and whipping 
 the bully of the ring, he became the champion of 
 the weak and the timid, who dared not resent the 
 insolence of Nevers. 
 
 When he had washed his face and stopped the 
 bleeding, he followed the course of the brook till 
 it emptied itself into the river, which was a small 
 stream some four or five rods wide. He was at- 
 tended by Bailey and two or three other boys, who 
 had suddenly conceived a very great admiration for
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 147 
 
 him. If he was not the victor in the fight, he had 
 the advantage, and he had already partially entered 
 upon the enjoyment of the honors which would be 
 bestowed upon the conqueror of Nevers. 
 
 A short distance above the mouth of the brook 
 the river received the waters of the beautiful and 
 picturesque Tunbrook Lake. The Institute grounds 
 bordered upon it for some distance, and great was 
 the satisfaction of Richard when he saw several 
 boats, which his companions informed him be- 
 longed to the school. There was a large schooner- 
 rigged sailboat, two twelve-oar race boats, besides 
 three smaller craft. He felt at home here, and 
 inquired particularly whether the boys were allowed 
 to use these boats. They were only permitted to 
 sail in company with some of the instructors. 
 
 The boys were exercised in rowing on Saturday 
 afternoons, when the regular sessions of the school 
 were suspended, and also upon the occasional holi- 
 days which were granted. The lake was seven 
 miles long by about two in breadth, so that there 
 was abundant sea room. While they were examin- 
 ing the boats, and viewing the beautiful lake, the
 
 148 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 signal bell in the tower of the Institute school-room 
 sounded its warning peal, and summoned them to 
 study and recitation. 
 
 "How does my face look, Bailey?" 
 
 "Not very bad." 
 
 "Do you think Gault will smell a mice when he 
 hears my lessons ?" 
 
 "I don't see why he should." 
 
 "I guess I can stave him off if he does," added 
 Richard confidently. "Didn't you see me tumble 
 down when that fellow chased me?" 
 
 "What fellow?" 
 
 "Any fellow you please," replied Richard, with 
 a knowing smile. 
 
 "I didn't see any fellow chase you," added 
 Bailey innocently. 
 
 "Can't you see through a millstone when there 
 is a hole in it?" 
 
 "Of course I can." 
 
 "Don't you see what I mean?" 
 
 "No, I don't." 
 
 "If Gault asks me how I hurt my face I will tell
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 149 
 
 him a fellow was chasing me, and I tumbled down. 
 Of course all the rest of you saw it." 
 
 "But I don't see it," persisted Bailey. 
 
 "Don't you, indeed! Then I think you ought 
 to have a pair of leather spectacles." 
 
 "Oh, I know what you mean, but I don't believe 
 in lying about it." 
 
 "Ah, then you are a military saint are you?" 
 said Richard with a sneer. 
 
 "All but the saint," laughed Bailey. "I don't 
 think there is any use in lying about it." 
 
 "Then I suppose you think it was very wicked 
 of me to fight with Nevers." 
 
 "No, I don't," answered Bailey promptly and 
 decidedly. "Nevers is a bully, and he insulted you. 
 My father always told me never to take an insult, 
 but he would thrash me for telling a lie." 
 
 "Well, Bailey, I believe you are right. I think 
 
 it is mean to tell a lie ; but how shall I manage it ?" 
 
 \ 
 
 "Face the music. A fellow who can stand such 
 a pounding as you have had wouldn't mind being 
 punished." 
 
 "I don't like to be punished."
 
 150 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "I don't know as the colonel would punish you. 
 If a fellow gets up a fight, he has to take it; but 
 if he only defends himself he says he does no more 
 than his duty." 
 
 "Well, who got up this fight?" 
 
 "That's the point. Nevers insulted you, and 
 you pitched into him. I don't know which is most 
 to blame." 
 
 "We will leave it to the powers that be, and not 
 bother our heads about the question. I won't lie 
 about it, anyhow." 
 
 By the time this point was settled the boys had 
 reached the school-room. Richard applied himself 
 with zeal and patience to the labors of the afternoon, 
 determined to do his whole duty. When called out 
 to recite, Mr. Gault noticed the swelling upon his 
 face, and at recess asked him what had caused it. 
 
 "It was done in a little affair out in the grove, 
 sir," replied Richard. 
 
 "What kind of an affair?" 
 
 "Nevers and I had a little set-to," said Richard. 
 
 "Rather rough play, I should think," added Mr.
 
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 151 
 
 Gault, as he struck the bell for the work to be re- 
 sumed. 
 
 Richard congratulated himself that he had es- 
 caped, and, as he thought, without telling a lie. 
 He told none with his lips, but his manner was 
 such as to assure the teacher that the affair in the 
 grove had been nothing but friendly sport. De- 
 ception, or wilfully misleading another, for the ac- 
 complishment of a purpose, is, in our opinion, just 
 as culpable a falsehood as gaining the same end by 
 a lie expressed in words. But Richard had not 
 come up to this standard. 
 
 At the close of the school session Richard has- 
 tened to the grove, as did all the boys who were 
 in the secret of the fight. Nevers was on the 
 ground soon after him, and the arrangements for 
 the fight were hastily completed. A line of scouts 
 reaching from the parade ground to the grove was 
 stationed at convenient distances to give warning of 
 the approach of any of the teachers. The ring was 
 formed, and Richard coolly divested himself of all 
 superfluous clothing, and prepared with the utmost 
 care for the desperate encounter.
 
 152 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 Nevers was ready sooner than Richard, for he 
 was not so precise in the arrangement of his gar- 
 ments. As he took his place in the ring, though 
 he stood strong and defiant, there was a kind of 
 nervousness in his manner, which might have been 
 detected by a keen observer. 
 
 "Come, Grant, we shall not get to work to-day 
 if you don't hurry up," said Nevers, his lip curling 
 into a sneer. 
 
 But it was the bully in him that spoke. He had 
 a reputation to sustain, and he was saying and do- 
 ing all he could to ward off any imputation upon 
 his courage. 
 
 "In one moment, Nevers," added Richard. 
 
 "You are as particular as though you were going 
 to a ball," continued Nevers. 
 
 "I suppose you are too much of a man to bawl, 
 whatever happens; so there won't be any," replied 
 Richard. 
 
 "We shall have the colonel and all the teachers 
 down upon us if you don't get fixed soon.*" 
 
 "I'm all ready," said Richard, throwing himself 
 into the attitude of the pugilist.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 153 
 
 "Come on, then." 
 
 Richard edged up to his antagonist, and after 
 considerable sparring, the fight commenced in good 
 earnest. Nevers was too much excited to use all 
 his strength to the best advantage, for the first hit 
 he received seemed to make him angry. In the 
 first round Richard had the advantage. In the 
 second Nevers knocked him down; but he was not 
 at all disconcerted. The heavy blows he received 
 did not appear to disturb his equanimity, while his 
 opponent worked himself up into a towering pas- 
 sion. The fight went on for ten minutes with vary- 
 ing results. At one time all the spectators were 
 sure that Nevers would win, and at another they 
 were equally sure that Grant would be the victor. 
 
 The anger of Nevers exhausted him more than 
 his tremendous efforts. Both parties had been ter- 
 ribly punished, but Richard was still cool and self- 
 possessed. At last Nevers became desperate, and 
 rushed upon his foe, determined at one effort to 
 crush him. He was furious, and abandoned all 
 the science he had brought to his aid, and appar- 
 ently depended entirely upon brute force. The
 
 154 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 consequence was that he laid himself open to his 
 cool rival, and Richard rained a series of tremen- 
 dous blows upon his head, which carried him un- 
 der. He fell heavily upon the ground, and lay 
 there incapable of moving. 
 
 Richard, though his nose was bleeding, and he 
 could not see out of one eye, seated himself on the 
 ground for a moment, till he had recovered his 
 breath, and then took his place in the ring. 
 
 "Time !" cried the friends of Richard. 
 
 But Nevers could not "come to time." He 
 raised himself partly up, but sank back again, in- 
 capable of making the effort to rise. 
 
 "Come on!" said Richard, as he sparred a little 
 with his fists to assure the spectators that he was 
 "game" to the last. 
 
 Nevers made no reply, and Richard was declared 
 the victor by his own friends, and the proposition 
 was admitted by those of his prostrate antagonist. 
 
 "I am satisfied," added Richard, as he picked up 
 his clothes and made his way down to the brook, 
 attended by an admiring crowd. 
 
 When Nevers recovered his breath, he rose from
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 155 
 
 the ground, and his companions helped him down 
 to the water, where he was bathed by his sympa- 
 thizing friends. Both of the combatants were se- 
 verely though not seriously injured. 
 
 "What's to be done now, fellows?" asked Rich- 
 ard, when all that cold water could do for him had 
 been done. "I suppose we are all in a bad scrape." 
 
 "That's so," replied several. "We will stand 
 by you, Grant, as well as we can." 
 
 "I am not exactly in condition to appear at dress 
 parade," added Richard, turning his head round, 
 so as to bring his available eye to bear upon his 
 companions. 
 
 "You are better off than Nevers, who is first 
 sergeant of Company D." 
 
 "Can't we keep out of sight till we get our eyes 
 open, as little kittens do ?" 
 
 "Roll call before dress parade," suggested 
 Bailey. 
 
 "Can't some fellow answer for me? I will 
 spend the night in the cabin of the sailboat on the 
 lake. It won't be the first time IVe slept in a 
 boat."
 
 156 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "That won't do. Better face the music, Grant." 
 
 "But I shall be punished for this aSair. I 
 don t' ' "" ' 
 
 "Colonel Brockridge is conrng!" was the word 
 passed down the line of scouts, interrupting Rich- 
 ard's remarks on the subject of punishment. 
 
 "What shall I do?" 
 
 "Don't do anything, Grant," said Bailey. "You 
 are sure to be found out, whatever you do. If you 
 run away, it will be all the worse for you." 
 
 Richard, after a moment's reflection, was of the 
 same opinion, and he decided to take the conse- 
 quences, whatever they might be. 
 
 "What does all this mean?" demanded the col- 
 onel sternly, when he saw the swelled face of Rich- 
 ard. 
 
 "Been a fight, sir," replied several of the boys. 
 
 "Between whom ?" 
 
 "Nevers and Grant." 
 
 "Nevers and Grant will report forthwith in my 
 office," said the principal, as he walked back to the 
 Institute.
 
 RICHARD LISTENS TO A HOMILY ON FIGHTING, AND 
 SPENDS THE NIGHT IN THE GUARD HOUSE 
 
 RICHARD, in obedience to the order of the prin- 
 cipal, immediately repaired to the office, where he 
 was soon joined by Nevers, both of them very 
 much the worse for the encounter. 
 
 "You have been fighting have you, young gen- 
 tlemen?" demanded Colonel Brockridge, as he en- 
 tered the room. 
 
 "Yes, sir," replied both of the culprits, in the 
 same breath. 
 
 "You know the rules of the Institute, Nevers," 
 added the principal, sternly. 
 
 "I do, sir; but I was struck, and was obliged 
 to fight in self-defense." 
 
 "And you, Grant, had common sense enough to 
 know better than to engage in a fight. .You struck 
 the first blow did you ?" 
 
 157
 
 158 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "I struck the first blow that was given with the 
 fist, but Nevers struck the heaviest blow with his 
 tongue." 
 
 "Explain, Grant." 
 
 "At breakfast I was informed by Nevers that 
 they found out what boys were made of on drill." 
 
 "Did you make use of this remark, Nevers?" 
 asked the principal. 
 
 "I did, sir." 
 
 "What did you mean by it?" 
 
 "Simply that we found out something about a 
 boy's capacity." 
 
 "Ah, indeed!" added Colonel Brockridge, in a 
 slightly satirical tone. "What did you understand 
 by the remark, Grant?" 
 
 "That a fellow who hadn't spunk enough to pro- 
 tect himself must submit to be insulted, and to be 
 bullied by those who were wiser than he in military 
 matters." 
 
 "I did not mean that, sir," protested Nevers. 
 
 "His looks and his tone indicated it," said Rich- 
 ard. "And when he was directed to instruct me 
 in the positions, his tone and manner were haughty
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 159 
 
 and domineering. I so understood it, sir; if I am 
 wrong, I am willing to apologize. In the course 
 of the drill he called me a dough-head." 
 
 "Is this true, Nevers ?" 
 
 "It is; but I did not call him so till I was satis- 
 fied he did not mean to observe the order. In 
 teaching him the facings, he would not come about 
 till all the others had finished the movement." 
 
 "I wouldn't, if I had been in his place," added 
 the colonel, very much to the astonishment of Rich- 
 ard, and very much to the indignation of Nevers. 
 "You know very well that one boy is never per- 
 mitted in this school to domineer over another. 
 You took pains beforehand to inform Grant, by 
 your words, and especially by your looks and 
 actions, that you meant to haze him, to bully him. 
 As a decent boy, he could not submit to it. Then 
 you called him a dough-head; which, as Grant sug- 
 gests, was the heaviest blow that was struck, for 
 it touches a spot which the fist cannot reach. 
 Nevers, you commenced the fight." 
 
 "I think not, sir." 
 
 "We don't argue the matter, sir," said the
 
 160 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 colonel, sharply. "One thing more: no pupil is 
 allowed to use ungentlemanly language to another 
 pupil. Obedience to officers who are merely stu- 
 dents is purely voluntary. If a boy refuses to 
 obey the officers he must leave the company. No 
 boy is compelled to go into the ranks. On drill 
 the case is still stronger, Nevers. If the recruit 
 will not obey, it is the duty of the drill officer to 
 report him to the instructor. If you had done so, 
 it would have been Mr. Gault's duty to drill Grant 
 himself." 
 
 Nevers made no reply to these remarks. He 
 cast a savage glance at Richard, who appeared to 
 have conquered him in the forum as well as in the 
 field. 
 
 "Grant, you are also to blame," continued the 
 principal. 'We will not permit you to be insulted, 
 bullied, or domineered over. I will protect you, 
 but you must not take the law into your own hands. 
 A blow is not justifiable except in self-defense, or 
 when all other means have failed. You knew it 
 was wrong to strike Nevers." 
 
 "I did not think so, at the time, sir," replied
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 161 
 
 Richard. "What you have said has changed my 
 view of the matter." 
 
 Nevers sneered at this remark of his antagonist, 
 and Richard saw and felt that sneer. It was as 
 much as to say that he, Richard, was making his 
 peace with the principal by pretending a penitence 
 he did not feel. It stung him where he was very 
 sensitive, and he was angry. 
 
 While his wrath was boiling, and he was con- 
 sidering in what manner he should punish his crest- 
 fallen rival for his savage look and his bitter sneer, 
 the parting admonition of Bertha came to his mind, 
 with the promise that he had made to obey the 
 rules of the school. This suggested his big resolu- 
 tions to reform his life and character. A brutal 
 fight on the first day of his residence at Tunbrook 
 was not exactly redeeming his solerr promise to 
 his sister; nor was the conquest of Nevers a step 
 toward the conquest of himself. 
 
 Yet in spite of his promise, and in spite of his 
 resolutions, he could not believe that he had been 
 altogether in the wrong. He thought Colonel 
 Brockridge's views of the case were very sensible;
 
 162 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 and while he wished he had not been so hasty in 
 hitting Nevers, he felt, as the principal had sug- 
 gested, that his conduct was greatly palliated by 
 the provocation he had received. 
 
 Nevers cast looks of hatred and contempt at 
 him, which stirred his blood deeper than even the 
 words of insult he had received. He came to the 
 conclusion that the bully had not got enough yet, 
 and impulsively he determined to give him some 
 more at the first convenient opportunity. But 
 when he thought of the promise he had made to 
 Bertha, when he thought of his resolution to con- 
 quer himself, he struggled with the temptation, and 
 finally had the strength to say to the malignant 
 demon of hatred and revenge, "Get thee behind me, 
 Satan." The victory was won ; the heart of Rich- 
 ard was at peace; he had actually conquered him- 
 self this time. 
 
 "You have both done wrong," said the principal, 
 after a few moments' consideration, during which 
 time Richard had won a greater and nobler victory 
 than that he had gained in the grove. 
 
 "I am sorry for it," said Richard, and it was
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 163 
 
 almost the first time in his life that he had ac- 
 knowledged himself in the wrong. 
 
 Nevers cast a look full of contempt at him when 
 he uttered these words; but Richard, under the 
 influence of the good angel which had taken pos- 
 session of his soul, did not permit the look to ruffle 
 him. 
 
 "I will do right, and feel right, this time, if I 
 never did before," said he to himself. 
 
 "Nevers," added the principal, "your warrant 
 as orderly sergeant is withdrawn; you are reduced 
 to the ranks. You can go now. Remove those 
 stripes from your arms." 
 
 The sentence was a heavy blow to the bully. 
 For a year he had been trying to obtain promo- 
 tion. He wanted a commission. The company 
 officers were elected from the sergeants, and he 
 was confident that he should be chosen captain of 
 Company D at the next election. He had been a 
 sergeant for a year and a half, and would have 
 been a captain if he had not been a bully; for there 
 were enough who disliked him on this account to 
 prevent his election. As the first sergeant of the
 
 164 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 company, he was almost sure that he should be 
 chosen the next time. But his sentence removed 
 all hope of such preferment. 
 
 "Grant, I believe you are sincerely sorry for what 
 has happened; but you have done wrong, and you 
 must be punished." 
 
 Richard's anger rose at these words, and he was 
 disposed to resent the idea of being punished for 
 what he had done, especially after the judge had 
 ruled so decidedly in his favor. 
 
 "I shall order you to be placed under arrest, and 
 to spend the night in the guard house. You will 
 report to me at dress parade. You can go." 
 
 The culprit's lips were compressed, and his teeth 
 were tightly closed. He was angry, for he had 
 expected to be fully justified before the boys for 
 his conduct. An impudent remark trembled on 
 the end of his tongue, but the memory of the con- 
 quest he had achieved over himself prevented him 
 from uttering it. 
 
 "I have done wrong, and I have owned that I 
 was in the wrong. I will submit," said Richard 
 to himself, as he left the office.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 165 
 
 When he went out upon the playground, he 
 found the boys assembled in groups discussing the 
 exciting event of the day. They gathered around 
 him to learn the result of the trial. 
 
 "Nevers has lost his office, and I am under ar- 
 rest, to spend the night in the guard house," replied 
 Richard, in answer to their inquiries. 
 
 "You got off easy," said Bailey. 
 
 "I suppose I did; at any rate, I am satisfied." 
 
 "Nevers has lost his warrant," exclaimed the 
 boys, who were particularly technical in speaking 
 of military events. "Let's give three cheers." 
 
 "Don't do it," said Richard. "It's a hard case 
 for him." 
 
 "I am glad of it. The bully is down," added 
 one. 
 
 "You licked him well," said another. 
 
 "I am sorry I did," replied Richard. "I didn't 
 understand the matter so well then as I do now. 
 Colonel Brockridge is a trump 1" 
 
 If any of Richard's friends at Woodville had 
 heard this remark, they would have been ready to 
 canonize him at once, for it was so utterly at
 
 166 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 variance with his style that his acquaintances would 
 not have recognized it as coming from him. But 
 Richard was engaged in the conquest of himself, 
 and had won two or three important victories. 
 
 The early call for dress parade sounded, and the 
 boys all hastened to the armories to prepare for it. 
 As Richard had no uniform yet, he was excused 
 from serving, and reported himself to the colonel, 
 as he had been ordered. When the parade was 
 finished the principal delivered a homily on fight- 
 ing, stating the facts connected with the combat 
 of that day, and commenting upon them. He con- 
 demned fighting in round terms, declaring it was 
 never necessary except in self-defense. The civil 
 and the social law would protect every member of 
 the community, and there could be no need of re- 
 sorting to the barbarous custom of settling differ- 
 ences by single combat. He applied the principles 
 he laid down to the case before him so clearly that 
 Richard lost much of his admiration of the "noble 
 art of self-defense" as pugilists stupidly style the 
 act of fighting, to ascertain who is the better man. 
 
 Lest our boy friends should not fully understand
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 167 
 
 us, we must add that the colonel's views are ours. 
 A boy ought to fight in self-defense; never to find 
 out which is "the better man." He should use 
 no more violence than is necessary to defend him- 
 self. A boy is bound to protect his weak friend 
 not from words, but from blows to the best 
 of his ability, by using blows, when they are neces- 
 sary. We can excuse, but we cannot justify, the 
 boy who strikes another for insulting his mother 
 or his sister. We believe in a "kiss for a blow," 
 but we also believe that cannon are often the best 
 peacemakers. "Blessed are the peacemakers," but 
 he who permits himself to be unjustly scourged is 
 more truly a fomenter of strife than he who con- 
 quers a peace in a good cause by the might of his 
 strong arm. 
 
 At the conclusion of his remarks, Colonel Brock- 
 ridge ordered Richard to be conducted to the guard 
 house, where he was to spend the night. Mr. 
 Gault was directed to see the order executed, and 
 the culprit was marched to the apartment which 
 served as a place of confinement for offenders. He 
 submitted to the punishment with the best grace
 
 168 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 he could command, but he was mortified and hu- 
 miliated. 
 
 The guard house was a bugbear to the boys of 
 the Institute. It was a small room, with the mock- 
 ery of iron bars at the window, placed there more 
 for effect than for anything else. It contained a 
 bed and a stool, with no other furniture. But it 
 was regarded as a terrible place by the boys; not 
 that it was a very great hardship to spend a night 
 there, but because of the disgrace which the popular 
 sentiment of the establishment had attached to the 
 prison. 
 
 Richard entered and the door was locked upon 
 him. The room was dark, but he was not permit- 
 ted to have a light. He seated himself upon the 
 stool, and it was literally the stool of repentance 
 to him. His supper was brought to him, and the 
 servant stood by with a lamp till he had eaten it. 
 He was then left alone for the night, to meditate 
 upon the folly and wickedness of engaging in a fight 
 without justifiable cause. 
 
 One of the first questions which the hero of the 
 fight asked himself was, whether he had not too
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 169 
 
 tamely submitted to the authority which had hu- 
 miliated and punished him. That he had done so 
 was the most surprising thing he had ever known 
 himself to do. And when he came to ask himself 
 why he had submitted, he could very clearly trace 
 the reason to the good resolution he had made to 
 reform his life and character to conquer himself. 
 It was hard for him to give in, but he was satisfied 
 with himself, and began to feel that he had really 
 made some progress in the great work. 
 
 He wanted to write a letter to Bertha, and tell 
 her all about the events of the day how patiently 
 he had submitted to reproof and punishment; and 
 record his solemn determination to conquer him- 
 self. He had no light, and no materials for writ- 
 ing; so, at an early hour, he went to bed; and, 
 fatigued with the labors and excitement of the day, 
 he forgot in sleep that he was a prisoner. 
 
 At reveille, in the morning, he was discharged 
 from arrest, and ordered to report for duty in the 
 school room. He was still strong in his good reso- 
 lutions, and the sneers and frowns of Nevers and 
 his clique did not disturb him did not even tempt
 
 170 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 him to indulge in the cheap retaliation of sneers 
 and frowns in return. 
 
 In the course of the day Richard found that he 
 was a lion. He had thrashed the bully of the 
 school, and won the enviable position of champion 
 of the Institute. But even this glory did not seem 
 to be worth much; for since the fight he realized 
 that he had whipped a bigger fellow than Nevers. 
 
 For a week, in school and out, Richard was true 
 to himself, and behaved nobly. More times than 
 we have room to record, during this period, he got 
 the better of his ever-familiar foe, and every new 
 victory improved his morale and added to his pres- 
 tige. 
 
 At this point in his school career the students 
 were ordered to perform the usual round of camp 
 duty; and at eight o'clock in the morning the bat- 
 talion took up the line of march for the appointed 
 place, at the other end of Tunbrook Lake, distant 
 ten miles by the road.
 
 RICHARD DOES GUARD DUTY, AND IS CAPTURED BY 
 AN ENEMY 
 
 CAMPING out was a great event at Tunbrook, 
 and the students looked forward to it with pleas- 
 ant anticipations for weeks. The principal was 
 shrewd in his policy, and no one knew when it 
 would take .place till it was announced, only a day 
 or two before the march. By this plan he pre- 
 vented any diversion of the thoughts from the les- 
 sons. Neither did the boys know where they were 
 going when they started. They obeyed the orders 
 which were given from time to time, and even when 
 they halted for the night and pitched their tents, 
 they could not find out whether they had reached 
 the end of the march or not. The colonel told 
 them that soldiers should be taught to obey orders, 
 and cured of all propensity to ask questions. 
 
 The tour of camp duty for the summer term had 
 
 171
 
 in IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 been almost a continuous march; and during the 
 campaign of ten days they had traveled over a hun- 
 dred miles. Colonel Brockridge was an earnest 
 believer in the necessity of physical development in 
 boys. He was of the opinion that they could stand 
 almost everything, if they were regularly and sys- 
 tematically inured to hardship. Weak papas and 
 tender mammas raised their hands with horror at 
 the idea of having their Johnny sleep on the ground 
 in a tent, and stick to the camp whether it was fair 
 weather or foul; but the colonel could adduce hun- 
 dreds of instances where boys of puny constitutions 
 had become strong and vigorous under this treat- 
 ment. 
 
 He believed that more boys had been spoiled by 
 being "babied" than ever had been injured in the 
 slightest degree by hardship if military duty, as 
 it was performed at Tunbrook, could be called 
 hardship. It was very certain that the boys en- 
 joyed camping out; and if a few of them sneezed 
 or coughed after their return, these were not re- 
 garded as fatal symptoms. 
 
 Richard was in his element when the school was
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 173 
 
 put upon its muscle. Though nothing but a pri- 
 vate in Company D, and subject to the orders of 
 his inferiors in body and mind, he performed his 
 duty cheerfully, and enjoyed it very much. After 
 Nevers had been cured of his folly there was not 
 another boy in the establishment who had the hardi- 
 hood or the desire to impose upon him. 
 
 Everything was done with military order and 
 precision on the morning that the battalion marched 
 from the Institute. Though the reader knows 
 where they were going, not an officer or a private 
 had a suspicion of their destination; and none but 
 a few of the newcomers asked the question, or ap- 
 peared to care. In front of the battalion was the 
 band, and behind it came the wagons containing the 
 tents, baggage, and pontoon train. The principal 
 and the instructors were scattered along the line, 
 where they could superintend the operations of the 
 column. 
 
 Major Morgan, in command of the battalion, 
 had evidently received instructions for a portion of 
 the day ; for, without any direction from the teach- 
 ers he led his command over the road to the grove,
 
 174 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 and in fifteen minutes after they started, the order 
 to halt was given. The battalion stood rigid as a 
 stake where they were ordered, and presently the 
 engineer corps was detached for duty. The pon- 
 toon wagon was brought up, and unloaded by the 
 side of the river. The boats, which were of rub- 
 ber, were inflated, and the business of building a 
 bridge across the stream was commenced. 
 
 Everything was so nicely prepared that the work 
 was accomplished in an incredibly short space of 
 time. The battalion, followed by its wagons, 
 crossed the pontoon bridge, the boats and the planks 
 were taken up and loaded upon the wagon again, 
 and the troops were ready to march. Neither Col- 
 onel Brockridge nor any of the instructors had 
 spoken a word during these operations, for the engi- 
 neers had been thoroughly trained in their difficult 
 duty. 
 
 For an hour the battalion marched without stop- 
 ping. The orders "shoulder arms," "support 
 arms," "right shoulder shift," relieved them occa- 
 sionally; but some legs began to ache before a halt 
 was permitted. During the next hour they marched
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 175 
 
 most of the way with the "route step." At twelve 
 o'clock they halted for dinner and an hour's rest. 
 The haversacks of the soldiers had been filled with 
 crackers and cold ham, and they had a jolly dinner 
 in a grove where they stopped. 
 
 About four o'clock in the afternoon they reached 
 the upper end of the lake, and the orders necessary 
 for forming a camp were given. The tents were 
 pitched, the boundaries of the camp marked out, 
 and a detail for guard duty was made from each 
 company. 'Everything proceeded precisely as it 
 would if they had been old soldiers, and engaged 
 in the actual business of war. 
 
 Richard was one of those who had been detailed 
 from Company D for guard duty. The camp 
 ground was a large, open plain, bordering on one 
 side upon a dense forest. The night was dark and 
 dismal, and at nine o'clock Richard found himself 
 walking his lonely beat, on the verge of the forest. 
 There was a novelty about the situation that was 
 very attractive to him, and as he walked his solitary 
 round he actually enjoyed it. It was not at all 
 probable that an enemy, or even a straggler, would
 
 176 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 disturb the quiet of the scene by attempting to pass 
 the line ; but though the guard had been commanded 
 to be vigilant, he had abundant time and opportu- 
 nity for reflection and castle-building. 
 
 Our sentinel had imbibed much of the spirit of 
 the soldier, from the martial exercise to which he 
 had been trained, and he indulged in some pretty 
 visions of military glory. They were very pleasant 
 and very alluring at that time, when the country 
 was enjoying profound peace. Even the poli- 
 ticians, who were compromising with difficulties, 
 present and future, never dreamed that the war 
 blast would sound through the land in their day 
 and generation, and were unbelievers in the dire 
 prophecies which they uttered. While Richard's 
 fancy led him to scenes of blood and glory on the 
 battlefield, he little thought that an opportunity 
 would so soon be presented for the practical appli- 
 cation of his military knowledge, and for the in- 
 dulgence of his military ambition. 
 
 While he was dreaming of war and glory, while 
 in imagination he was leading battalions of brave 
 men to battle and victory, his reflections were dis
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 turbed by the approach of a squad of boys. It was 
 so dark that he did not see them till they were 
 within a few rods of him. It was evident that they 
 had left the tents by stealth, and must have crept 
 some portion of the way on the ground to escape 
 observation. When they came near enough to be 
 challenged, the guard called out : 
 
 "Who comes there?" 
 
 "Friends," replied one of the party. 
 
 "Advance, 'one friend, and give the countersign." 
 
 One of them stepped forward, and Richard held 
 him at bay with his bayonet, according to military 
 custom. 
 
 "I declare, I have forgotten the countersign," 
 said he. 
 
 "Then I will call the corporal of the guard." 
 
 "No; hold on a minute. I shall think of it in 
 a mom ant." 
 
 Richard was willing to give him a fair chance, 
 as there was no enemy in the vicinity who could 
 possibly intend to capture the battalion. But while 
 he was waiting the fellow suddenly grasped his 
 musket, and attempted to wrest it from his hands.
 
 178 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 But this was a game at which two could play as 
 well as one; and Richard, instead of giving the 
 alarm, as he should have done, threw himself upon 
 his muscle and attempted to beat off his assailants. 
 
 The rest of the party immediately came to the 
 assistance of the fellow, and, after a short but sharp 
 struggle, the sentinel was overpowered, and his gun 
 taken from him. At the conclusion of the struggle 
 Richard found himself upon his back, on the 
 ground, held down by the whole squad of boys, 
 or as many as could get hold of him. One of them 
 held a handkerchief over his mouth, so that he 
 could not give the alarm, now that he found it 
 necessary to do so. 
 
 Richard supposed this rough treatment could be 
 nothing more than a practical joke one of those 
 tricks played off upon raw recruits, to teach them 
 the necessity of vigilance, and a nice observance of 
 the rules of the service. When he was overpow- 
 ered, therefore, he submitted to his fate, whatever 
 it might prove to be, hoping his captors would relax 
 their hold upon him just long enough to enable 
 him to turn the tables upon them ; for he was vain
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 179 
 
 enough to believe that he could whip the whole 
 dozen of them, if he could only have fair play. 
 
 "Let him up, now, and we will tie his hands 
 behind him," said one of the party, in a feigned 
 voice, to prevent the victim from recognizing the 
 speaker. 
 
 "But he will halloo, if we let him up," replied 
 the one who had answered his challenge, and whose 
 voice Richard could not identify. 
 
 "I'll stop his mouth, if he halloos," added the 
 first speaker. "I'll hit him over the head with the 
 butt of his musket." 
 
 "No, no," said the other; "you'll kill him. We 
 don't want to injure him." 
 
 "I do; I wouldn't mind cracking his skull for 
 him." 
 
 "No, no; we shall get into trouble ourselves if 
 we do anything of that kind." 
 
 Richard thought they would anyway, as soon as 
 he could obtain the use of his arms. He felt so 
 well qualified to take care of himself that he would 
 have been willing to give his bond not to halloo, 
 or call any one to his assistance, though he could not
 
 180 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 help wondering that the sentinels whose beats were 
 next to his own did not arrive at the scene of opera- 
 tions. It was evident to him that they were asleep 
 on their posts, or that they were accomplices of the 
 conspirators. 
 
 "Now, get up," said the speaker, who used the 
 disguised voice. 
 
 Richard promptly obeyed this order, and though 
 several of the boys held on to him as he rose, a 
 terrible struggle ensued, in which the captured sen- 
 tinel almost made good his mental boast; but they 
 were too many for him, and his hands were tied 
 behind him with a knapsack strap, in spite of his 
 best exertions to shake them off. 
 
 "I told you he would be a hard customer," said 
 one, who had not before spoken. 
 
 "Shut up, you ninny I You'll blow the whole 
 of us. No fellow is to speak but you know 
 whom," said he with the assumed voice. 
 
 Richard tried to obtain, in the thick darkness 
 that shrouded them, some clue which would enable 
 him to identify the ruffians; but he could not make 
 out anything peculiar in their form or motions to
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 181 
 
 guide him, and he was equally at fault in regard 
 to the voices. He stood quiet when he found that 
 resistance was useless; but he determined to keep 
 a sharp lookout for an opportunity to release him- 
 self from his mortifying situation. 
 
 "Now, you " 
 
 "My name is Dobbin," added the false voice. 
 
 Richard did not remember any such name, 
 though he had heard the roll called in all the com- 
 panies, and he concluded that it was a "blind" to 
 deceive him. 
 
 "Now, Dobbin, take him off, and we will settle 
 the case in the woods." 
 
 "Lead the way, Kennedy, and we will follow; 
 but be careful and not make a noise." 
 
 "Hush!" said Dobbin; "somebody is coming." 
 
 "Grand rounds I" added Kennedy. "Hurry him 
 off as quick as you can. Stuff a handkerchief in 
 his mouth; choke him if he attempts to cry out." 
 
 "But they will miss him," suggested Dobbin, 
 "and then there will be a row and a search." 
 
 "Off with him! Off with'him! We shall all
 
 182 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 get caught," whispered Kennedy. "I will take his 
 gun, and keep guard." 
 
 Richard was literally dragged from the spot, and 
 the fellow who called himself Kennedy though 
 that was not his name took the musket of the de- 
 feated sentinel, and began to travel his beat as reg* 
 ularly as though he had been duly detailed. 
 
 "Who comes there?" demanded he, as the officer 
 of the day, attended by a sergeant and two men, 
 approached his beat. 
 
 "Grand rounds," replied the sergeant. 
 
 "Halt, grand rounds! Advance, sergeant, with 
 the countersign." 
 
 The sergeant advanced to give the countersign, 
 without discovering that he had been challenged by 
 the wrong man. 
 
 "Bennington,"said the sergeant, giving the word 
 appointed for the night. 
 
 "Advance, rounds!" added Kennedy, as he 
 placed himself in the proper position. 
 
 The officer of the day passed on with his attend- 
 ants, and as soon as the ceremony had been re- 
 peated with the next sentinel, Kennedy threw the
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 183 
 
 musket upon the ground, and followed his com- 
 panions into the forest. Taking a road which led 
 into the woods, he soon overtook the rest of the 
 party. 
 
 Richard was very curious to find out what his 
 captors intended to do with him; for he could not 
 even yet believe that anything more serious than 
 a practical joke was intended. He was not con- 
 scious that he had an enemy in the battalion, with 
 the exception of Nevers, who, though he had be- 
 stowed a great many sneers and looks of hatred 
 upon him during the week that had elapsed since 
 the fight, had betrayed no intention to seek revenge 
 for his defeat in fair fight. He knew that Nevers 
 hated him, but he could not believe that he would 
 resort to such underhand measures as the conspira- 
 tors had adopted. 
 
 "What are you going to do?" asked he, after 
 Kennedy had joined them. 
 
 "Shut up ! You will find out soon enough." 
 
 Richard tried to open a conversation with them, 
 but they were too wary to talk, and no one spoke 
 except Dobbin and Kennedy. They conducted
 
 184 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 their prisoner half a mile, as he judged, from the 
 camp, where they halted, and fastened Richard to 
 a tree, seating themselves upon logs and stumps. 
 The captive waited impatiently for the proceedings 
 to commence.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 RICHARD FINDS HIMSELF IN THE HANDS OF THE 
 REGULATORS 
 
 "COME, fellows, we have no time to spare," said 
 Kennedy, when the party were seated, and Richard 
 fastened to the tree. "We must finish this busi- 
 ness at once." 
 
 "We are all ready," replied Dobbin. 
 
 "Ready for what?" demanded Richard. 
 
 "Ready to settle your case. We are going to 
 give you the biggest licking you ever had in your 
 life." 
 
 The prisoner thought this was rather doubtful; 
 but as they could not be supposed to have any 
 knowledge of the thrashing inflicted upon him by 
 "Old Batterbones," he was willing to excuse any 
 exaggerations of which they might be guilty. When 
 the young ruffian spoke of flogging him, Richard 
 could not help recalling the incident at the barn of 
 
 185
 
 186 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 the farmer on the Hudson. Then he was guilty, 
 now he was innocent; and his feelings on the pres- 
 ent occasion were as different from those of the 
 former one as light is from darkness. 
 
 He had been captured while in the discharge of 
 his duty, and was not conscious that he had given 
 his assailants any cause of offense. He could not 
 explain how it happened that he was not angry. 
 He did not chafe in the bonds that confined him. 
 The consciousness of being innocent of all offense 
 before his comrades sustained and supported him; 
 and he felt a kind of proud superiority over his 
 captors, which placed him out of the reach of fear, 
 and even out of the reach of malice and revenge. 
 
 Richard was a courageous boy; he had been so 
 in his foolish and vicious enterprise; but he was 
 doubly so now, when his soul was free from the 
 stain of transgression. He did not borrow any 
 trouble about what his persecutors intended to do, 
 though he felt a very natural curiosity to see the 
 end of the adventure. 
 
 "Go on," replied Richard, calmly, as the spokes- 
 man of the party announced their intentions.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 187 
 
 "Shall we tell him what for? Shall we try 
 him?" asked Kennedy. 
 
 "Yes; let us give him a drum-head court-martial. 
 The licking won't do him any good if he don't know 
 what it is for," replied Dobbin. 
 
 "Grant," said Kennedy, with the solemnity of 
 a judge, "you have ruined the best fellow in Com- 
 pany D." 
 
 "He ruined himself," replied Richard. 
 
 "No, he didn't. Of what you did in fair fight 
 in the grove, we haven't a word to say. But you 
 have prejudiced the colonel against him, and caused 
 him to be deprived of his warrant, which will pre- 
 vent him from obtaining his commission at the next 
 election. You set yourself up as a leader among 
 the fellows before you had been a week in the 
 school. Have you anything to say?" 
 
 "Nothing, except that all your charges are false," 
 answered Richard; and if there had been light 
 enough to see It, a smile would have been discovered 
 upon his countenance. 
 
 "In the interview with the principal you pre- 
 tended to be a saint, and to be sorry for what you
 
 188 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 had done. You did not stand up like a man and 
 take the consequences of your acts." 
 
 "Go on; I have nothing to say," added Richard, 
 when the speaker paused. 
 
 "You are a dangerous fellow in the school. You 
 intend to climb up yourself by pushing others down. 
 We won't submit to it." 
 
 "What are you going to do?" coolly asked the 
 prisoner. 
 
 "We are going to thrash you, as you deserve." 
 
 "You are brave fellows!" sneered Richard. 
 "What you are afraid to do in the daylight, with 
 fair play, you do by stealth and trickery in the 
 night. You are a set of cowards, and if you will 
 untie my hands I will whip the whole of you." 
 
 "That is very fine talk, Grant," said Kennedy, 
 "but it don't amount to anything." 
 
 "No talk is necessary to prove your cowardly 
 meanness. Go on, and do your best. I am not 
 afraid of the whole of you, even with my hands 
 tied behind me. I despise the whole of you." 
 
 "We will give you a chance to escape." 
 
 "I don't ask any chance to escape."
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 189 
 
 "Grant, you talk like a fool." 
 
 "Better be a fool than a knave and a coward." 
 
 "We don't want to hurt you. There are fellows 
 enough in our crowd to make Tunbrook Institute 
 too hot to hold you. We advise you to write to 
 your father, advising him to send you to some other 
 school. Will you do so ?" 
 
 "I will not," replied Richard, promptly. 
 
 "Then you must take the consequences. We 
 are organized, and we are determined that you shall 
 leave. If you ask your father, and insist upon it, 
 no doubt he will take you away." 
 
 "Very likely he would," added Richard, "but I 
 shall not ask him to do so." 
 
 "You plainly don't understand what is in store 
 for you. Our plans are well laid, and we have 
 been through the same mill once before. A fellow 
 about your size, and one who could fight as well 
 as you do, had to leave about a year ago. He 
 undertook to be a leader before his time came. We 
 hunted him out, as we shall you." 
 
 "When you hunt me out I will go, but not till 
 then."
 
 190 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "Grant, this is all idle talk on your part. You 
 don't understand your situation. We can count up 
 fifty fellows belonging to our association. We can 
 drive out any fellow who makes himself obnoxious. 
 We mean to be fair, and we are willing that any 
 fellow who works his way up should have all the 
 honors he wins. But do you suppose we fellows, 
 who have been here two or three years, and who 
 have worked ourselves up, are going to step one 
 side for a fellow who has been here only a week 
 or two ?" 
 
 "Who asks you to step aside?" demanded Rich- 
 ard, indignantly, for this show of fair play had 
 touched him in a tender spot, and in spite of him- 
 self he began to be interested in the argument. 
 
 "You do; you have licked the best fellow in the 
 school, and then you begin to play saint, and curry 
 favor with the colonel. You mean to lead, and 
 not follow." 
 
 "I mean to be and do just what circumstances 
 require." 
 
 "Grant, there is no such thing as misunderstand- 
 ing your position. What your looks indicate is
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 191 
 
 more than all you may say with your mouth, or do 
 with your hands. You are a dangerous fellow, and 
 you must leave, or compromise." 
 
 "What do you mean by compromise?" 
 
 "We'll let you stay if you will keep in your 
 proper position." 
 
 "What is my proper position?" 
 
 "At the foot of the ladder, of course, till the 
 fellows above you have got out of the way." 
 
 "You mean Nevers ?" 
 
 "Nevers and others." 
 
 "I will agree to no such compromise. All the 
 officers, I am informed, are chosen by ballot." 
 
 "They are." 
 
 "Then, of course, the fellows can choose whom 
 they please." 
 
 "They can ; and since you have whipped Nevers, 
 they will elect you ; and those who have done their 
 duty for two or three years must go into the shade. 
 If you will agree to step one side, we will promise 
 to let you alone. Will you do it ?" 
 
 "I will not."
 
 192 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "Mind what you do, for if the Regulators make 
 war upon you, they will drive you out." 
 
 "The what?" 
 
 "The Regulators. They are a secret society for 
 certain purposes. It is a powerful organization, 
 Grant, I can tell you. If you will do the right 
 thing, we will take you in." 
 
 "No, you won't. I'm not to be taken in by any 
 such bait," replied Richard, who was disposed to 
 laugh at the ridiculous association that had taken 
 upon itself the duty of regulating the affairs of the 
 Tunbrook Institute. 
 
 "You may sneer as much as you please. Every 
 fellow in the school knows there is such a society, 
 but no one but members can tell who belong to it. 
 We mean to have fair play in this institution, and 
 we have never yet failed in getting it." 
 
 "Come, Kennedy, you will talk all night," said 
 Dobbin. "You can't do anything with him." 
 
 "Well, Grant, you may leave, compromise, or 
 take the consequences. What will you do ?" 
 
 "I will not leave; and I certainly will not com- 
 promise on the terms named. I mean to behave
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 193 
 
 myself like a man while I am here. If any one is 
 a better fellow than I am, I will step one side for 
 him, as I must. If any fellow gets above me in 
 the class, I will not complain, or attempt to pull 
 him down. If the fellows think I am fit to be a 
 sergeant, or a captain, or a corporal, I shall abide 
 their decision. I won't pull any fellow down, or 
 be pulled down myself. I think the Regulators 
 are a mean, dirty, cowardly set of bullies, who mean 
 to build themselves up by pulling others down. Let 
 every fellow be judged by his own merits. That's 
 my opinion. Now you can do what you please." 
 
 And they did do what they pleased, though it 
 was evident the Regulators were not accustomed 
 to deal with so stubborn a subject. At the word 
 from Kennedy, who seemed to be the chief of the 
 society, the whole band fell upon Richard with 
 sticks which they had cut in the woods, and gave 
 him a most unmerciful beating. The prisoner bore 
 it with silent disdain. He felt that the cause in 
 which he was engaged was a good one, and he did 
 not flinch from the penalty of fidelity. 
 
 At the word from the chief they suspended the
 
 194$ IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 flagellation, and Kennedy again attempted to bring 
 him to terms by argument, but it was in vain. 
 
 "Very well," said he, evidently disappointed at 
 the ill success of the reasoning process. "This is 
 only the first instalment of what is your due. 
 When anything goes wrong with you, when you get 
 into a scrape, when you find the ushers and the 
 colonel down upon you, just understand that the 
 Regulators are round. You have fifty enemies 
 now, instead of one, as you had two hours ago." 
 
 "That's all, Kennedy; don't say any more," in- 
 terposed Dobbin, impatiently. "Let's take him 
 back now. He will find out the rest of it fast 
 enough." 
 
 If Richard could have heard the conversation 
 among the Regulators before they waited upon him, 
 he might have been flattered by the complimentary 
 manner in which his name was handled. His tal- 
 ents and his muscle, no less than his growing popu- 
 larity, were appreciated by the band, and it was 
 more desirable to win him than it was to drive him 
 out. They knew what a valuable acquisition he 
 would be to their number. But he must stand one
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 195 
 
 side, and wait for his turn before he aspired to be- 
 come a leader. 
 
 The Regulators, using the utmost caution, un- 
 loosed the prisoner, and marched him back to the 
 camp. When they reached the line they threw him 
 upon the ground. While one of the largest of 
 them, having all the advantage, held him there, the 
 others disappeared in the darkness. The fellow 
 that held him then removed the strap from the arms 
 of the captive, and bounded away as fast as his legs 
 would carry him. 
 
 Richard jumped up as quick as he could and gave 
 chase. But the Regulator had the start of him, 
 and the pursuit was useless. The victim returned 
 to his beat, felt round upon the ground till he found 
 his gun, picked it up, and resumed his solitary walk. 
 He was a little confused by the events which had 
 transpired, and he was forced to acknowledge that 
 the Regulators had managed their business with 
 consummate address and skill. He hardly knew 
 what to make of the affair. He knew that he had 
 been whipped ; this fact was still patent to his con-
 
 196 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 sciousness in the tingling sensation that played over 
 his legs. 
 
 The whole thing seemed very much like an illu- 
 sion. It was almost too strange and ridiculous to 
 be credited, and he could not help considering 
 whether he had not actually been walking in his 
 sleep this time. The Regulators appeared, to his 
 sober senses, to be the most absurd institution ever 
 invented by the mischievous brain of a boy. Yet 
 he could not disbelieve the evidence of his senses, 
 and specially of his smarting legs, and he was com- 
 pelled to admit that the society actually existed; 
 though there was a remote possibility that the whole 
 affair was a practical joke, devised by Nevers and 
 his clique. 
 
 We have before intimated, in the course of this 
 story, that Richard Grant was an "old head." He 
 had a very tolerable conception of the principles 
 of strategy; therefore he did not do as most boys 
 would have done make a tremendous row over the 
 occurrences of the night. He decided that it would 
 be politic for him to keep both eyes and both ears 
 open, while he kept his mouth closed. By this
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 197 
 
 course he hoped to obtain a clue to the mystery, and 
 thus eventually to make the daylight shine in upon 
 the dark proceedings of the Regulators. 
 
 "Where have you been this hour?" demanded 
 the sentinel whose beat was next to his own, when 
 they met. 
 
 "I haven't been far off," replied Richard; "that 
 is, not more than half a mile off," he added, in a 
 tone so low that his companion could not hear him. 
 
 "I understand. You have been taking a nap." 
 ' Ton my word, I haven't." 
 
 "But you have; I haven't seen you before for an 
 hour." 
 
 "I haven't been asleep." 
 
 "Honor bright, Grant, haven't you?" asked his 
 companion good-naturedly. 
 
 "No, I haven't." 
 
 "Where were you when the grand rounds were 
 made?" 
 
 "I was close by." 
 
 "Of course you were, or you would have been 
 missed," added his neighbor, as he turned on his 
 heel and made off.
 
 198 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 Richard thought he was very easily satisfied, and 
 he wondered if he wasn't a member of the secret 
 band of Regulators. Our sentinel marched to the 
 other end of his beat. His neighbor on this side 
 had missed him, but he was as easily satisfied as the 
 other had been, and Richard wondered whether he 
 was not a Regulator. 
 
 While he was musing upon the extraordinary 
 events of the night, the relief came round, and he 
 was marched to the guard tent, where, for four 
 hours, he had an opportunity to dream of the Regu- 
 lators, and their secret management of the affairs 
 of the Tunbrook Institute.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 RICHARD BECOMES FIRST SERGEANT OF 
 COMPANY D 
 
 THE next morning Richard was discharged from 
 guard duty, and returned to the battalion. From 
 the moment he opened his eyes he carefully ob- 
 served the actions of his companions, and even 
 studied the glances which were bestowed upon him. 
 All his watching seemed to be in vain, for he could 
 not obtain a particle of information that would aid 
 him in solving the mystery of the Regulators. 
 
 Among the boys there were several with whom 
 he had become quite intimate, particularly Bailey, 
 who occupied the next bed to his in Barrack B. So 
 eager was he to fathom the mystery that he was 
 tempted to make some inquiries of them; but they 
 might themselves be members of the Regulators. 
 Even Bailey might belong to the potent organiza- 
 tion, and he did not care to expose himself in the 
 
 199
 
 200 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 slightest degree to their jeers or their malice. 
 Though, as he had been informed, there were fifty 
 boys who had become his enemies, and who were 
 pledged to annoy him to the utmost of their ability, 
 every one seemed to be his friend. 
 
 Hardly had he been discharged from guard duty 
 before his arrest was ordered, and he found himself 
 accused of sleeping at his post. He was conducted 
 to the tent of Colonel Brockridge, where the charge 
 was distinctly recited to him. 
 
 "What do you say to this charge, Grant? Are 
 you guilty or not guilty?" demanded the principal. 
 
 "Who are my accusers, sir?" asked Richard, 
 thinking only of the task he had laid upon himself 
 of discovering the Regulators. 
 
 "That does not answer my question, Grant. 1 
 asked you whether you were guilty or not guilty," 
 added the colonel, sternly. 
 
 "Not guilty, sir!" replied Richard, promptly and 
 firmly. 
 
 "Then you wish to have the charge proved?" 
 
 "I do, sir." 
 
 "That is rather inconvenient," said the colonel,
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 201 
 
 biting his lip. "If you are guilty, I should prefer 
 to have you say so." 
 
 "I am not guilty, sir." 
 
 Colonel Brockridge had had too much experience 
 with boys to neglect the looks and actions of the 
 accused while he questioned him, for the expression 
 often reveals more than the words. Richard's 
 communication, on this occasion, was "yea, yea; 
 nay, nay." He had the look of one who speaks 
 the truth, and the principal was duly impressed by 
 the appearance and manner of the prisoner. 
 
 "You speak very decidedly," added the colonel. 
 "Were you at your post at half-past nine o'clock?" 
 
 "I was not, sir." 
 
 "Where were you?" 
 
 Richard hesitated; there were several teachers 
 and several company officers present. He did not 
 like to tell the story before them, and he did not 
 think it would be prudent to do so. Probably some 
 of the Regulators were within hearing, and he pre- 
 ferred to unearth them in some other way. 
 
 "Your answer, Grant," said the principal. 
 
 "Without intending any disrespect to you, sir,
 
 202 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 I would rather not answer," replied Richard, glanc- 
 ing at the officers present. 
 
 A slight curl on the lip of a cadet by the name of 
 Redman attracted his attention. It was a kind of 
 suppressed sneer, which Richard interpreted that 
 he dared not expose the doings of the secret society. 
 His answer had been a virtual admission of the 
 charge, and the case seemed to have gone against 
 him. Richard concluded that the boy who could 
 rejoice at that moment must be a Regulator. 
 
 "The penalty of sleeping at your post and de- 
 serting it would be the same ; and as you admit the 
 charge in substance, it will not be necessary to pro- 
 ceed any further," said Colonel Brockridge. 
 
 Richard was tempted to make a full explanation 
 of the events of the night, but he had some doubts 
 whether he would be believed if he did so. Be- 
 sides, he was curious to know what the Regulators 
 would do. The penalty for the offense with which 
 he was charged could not be very heavy, and he 
 determined to submit to it, for the purpose of ex- 
 posing the Regulators at some future time. 
 
 The principal then gave him a lecture on the im-
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 203 
 
 propriety of deserting his post, when placed on 
 guard, explaining the consequences that might re- 
 sult from such unfaithfulness in time of war. Rich- 
 ard listened patiently to the reproof, and was sen- 
 tenced to be confined in the guard tent for twenty- 
 four hours. 
 
 Richard possessed his soul in patience, and slept 
 off a good portion of his imprisonment. He de- 
 voted all his wakeful hours to a consideration of 
 the doings of the Regulators, and in devising plans 
 for "ventilating" their secret proceedings. 
 
 When he was relieved from arrest, and permit- 
 ted to join his comrades, he kept a close watch upon 
 Redman, and also upon the two privates who had 
 been next to him in the line on guard. They must 
 have been his accusers, and he was satisfied that 
 they belonged to the obnoxious association. Nevers, 
 no doubt, was also a member, and he believed him 
 to be the "Dobbin" of the party that had whipped 
 him. Here were four whom he suspected, and 
 during the week the battalion remained in camp 
 their words and their actions were carefully 
 scanned; but they were too adroit to expose them-
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 selves, though Richard's close scrutiny was not en- 
 tirely fruitless. 
 
 Our soldier entered heartily into the spirit of 
 the occasion, and performed his duty with the ut- 
 most fidelity. Though he was made the victim of 
 various petty tricks, such as smearing the stock 
 of his musket with grease, cutting the straps of 
 his knapsack, and hiding his blanket, he bore all 
 these things with politic patience, and treated his 
 comrades with the most scrupulous fairness. He 
 was the champion of the weak, and, being the con- 
 queror of Nevers, no one ventured to carry their 
 opposition to his will beyond a few respectful 
 words. He would not let a small boy be insulted 
 or bullied ; and a frown from him was generally a 
 sufficient protection. He was foremost in the 
 sports of the boys, and every day increased his pop- 
 ularity. 
 
 If the Regulators said or did anything to his 
 injury they did it very slyly, for Richard could not 
 discover that there was any one who was not his 
 friend. On the last day of the encampment the 
 election of officers was to take place, and during the
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 205 
 
 week of course there was a great deal of electioneer- 
 ing done for various candidates. 
 
 On the day before the election a petition was 
 circulated among the boys, requesting the principal 
 to reinstate Nevers in the office from which he had 
 been degraded. There were about fifty names on 
 the paper when Bailey brought it to Richard. It 
 was not very favorably received by the boys gener- 
 ally. Nobody could tell when or where the fifty 
 names had been obtained ; no one had seen the sign- 
 ers place their autographs upon the document. 
 Richard heard Bailey and a dozen others refuse to 
 sign it, and some of them even proposed to get up 
 a remonstrance. 
 
 "I am going to sign the petition," said Richard, 
 to the astonishment of his companions. 
 
 "You, Grant?" exclaimed a dozen boys, in the 
 same breath. 
 
 "I am; just to show the fellows that I bear him 
 no ill will," replied Richard. "Nevers was de- 
 graded for that affair with me; and, as I licked 
 him, I think I can afford to do the handsome thing."
 
 206 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "Then he will be elected captain of Company 
 D," said Bailey. 
 
 "I don't know about that," added Richard. "I 
 am willing to see him restored to the place he was 
 in before I came, but I shall not give him my vote 
 for captain, or anything else." 
 
 The victim of the Regulators took out his pencil 
 and wrote his name upon the petition. Though 
 he fully believed that Nevers was the "Dobbin" of 
 the party that had assaulted him, he could not prove 
 it, and he was disposed to give him a fair chance, 
 so that neither he nor his friends should have any 
 good ground for complaint. His example was fol- 
 lowed by all the boys present, and from that mo- 
 ment the number of names on the paper increased 
 very rapidly. 
 
 At dress parade, Colonel Brockridge, to whom 
 the petition had been presented early in the after- 
 noon, called Nevers forward, and after a few re- 
 marks, restored him to his former position as first 
 sergeant of Company D, observing at the same 
 time that the name of Richard Grant on the paper 
 had had more influence upon his mind than that of
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 207 
 
 all the others. It was a magnanimous act, which 
 he heartily approved. 
 
 "Three cheers for Nevers!" shouted some friend 
 of the first sergeant, when the company broke 
 ranks. 
 
 They were given, but it was only a partial dem- 
 onstration, evidently confined to about a dozen of 
 the company. 
 
 "Three cheers for Grant!" said Bailey, when 
 those for the first sergeant had been given. 
 
 The call was promptly responded to, and though 
 the cheers seemed to proceed from the entire com- 
 pany, there were probably about a dozen who did 
 not join. 
 
 "Tiger!" added Bailey, with an earnestness that 
 assured Richard he was not a member of the Reg- 
 ulators. 
 
 The "tiger" was added, together with a volley 
 of applause by clapping the hands. Richard's po- 
 sition in Company D was not to be doubted, and 
 the Regulators present must have felt that their 
 influence was not very powerful. 
 
 On the following day they had a further proof
 
 208 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 of the popularity of Richard, and if they had not 
 been very stupid, they might have seen that he had 
 more influence than the whole band of Regulators 
 put together. On the first ballot in Company D, 
 the first lieutenant was elected captain; the second 
 sergeant was elected first lieutenant. The second 
 lieutenant was believed to be a strong friend of 
 Nevers, and no promotion was awarded to him. 
 
 Richard Grant was elected second sergeant, and 
 when the vote was declared, the result was greeted 
 with a round of hearty applause. The other places 
 were all filled, as the inclination of the majority 
 dictated, subject only to the healthy rules of the 
 Institute. If there had been no limit to the choice 
 of the boys, we have no doubt their favorite would 
 have been elected captain. 
 
 The face of Nevers was as dark as a thunder- 
 cloud after the election. The remark of Richard 
 that he would not vote for him had been circulated 
 through the company, and had been influential in 
 defeating the aspirations of the first sergeant. 
 Nevers knew very well that he owed his defeat and 
 his restoration to his rival, whom he hated with ten-
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 fold greater vigor than before hated him for 
 what he had done, and hated him for what he had 
 left undone. 
 
 Of course, Richard felt very good-natured, and 
 snapped his fingers at the Regulators. He sat 
 upon a stool alone after supper, thinking of his 
 good fortune, and congratulating himself upon the 
 skill with which he had conquered his enemies. He 
 was satisfied that in being true to himself he had 
 won the respect and confidence of his companions. 
 The good resolutions he had successfully carried 
 out had rendered him worthy of the favor bestowed 
 upon him. In conquering himself he had con- 
 quered others. 
 
 While Richard sat on the stool thinking of the 
 pleasant events of the day, and perhaps wonder- 
 ing how long it would be before he became the 
 major of the battalion, his vanquished rival saun- 
 tered up to him, his face still looking dark and ma- 
 lignant. 
 
 "You have beaten me again, Grant," said he, 
 sourly, "but your day will come soon." 
 
 "Eh, Dobbin?" replied Richard, with a good-
 
 210 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 natured smile, as he glanced at his fellow-ser- 
 geant. 
 
 "What's that?" growled Nevers. "What do 
 you mean by calling me Dobbin ?" 
 
 Richard was satisfied from the appearance of 
 Nevers that the name was not wholly unfamiliar 
 to his ears. It was the first time he had ever ven- 
 tured to hint at the proceedings of his first night 
 in camp; and it was the first time that his rival had 
 ever dared to speak to him in a surly tone. 
 
 "If you don't understand it, no matter," added 
 Richard, with a merry twinkle of the eye. 
 
 "If you call me by that, or any other improper 
 name, you shall suffer for it." 
 
 "How many of you will it take to punish me 
 for it, eh, Dobbin?" 
 
 "Dobbin again?" 
 
 "Do you know a fellow by the name of Ken- 
 nedy?" added Richard. "If you don't, I'll intro- 
 duce you some day." 
 
 Nevers concluded that Richard was a tough cus- 
 tomer, and he made no further allusion to any suf- 
 fering in store for his defiant rival. But Richard's
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 taunt about Kennedy, and his promises to introduce 
 him, were not pleasant to the bully, and he walked 
 away. He feared that the victim had been making 
 dangerous discoveries. 
 
 On the following morning the battalion took up 
 the line of march for the Institute, and arrived 
 without incident or accident; and that night the 
 boys exchanged the hard ground for the iron bed- 
 steads in the barracks.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 RICHARD GIVES THE TUNBROOKERS A LESSON IN 
 BOATING 
 
 AMONG the favorite recreations of the cadets of 
 the Tunbrook Military Institute was that of boat- 
 ing. The beautiful lake afforded them abundant 
 space for sailing and rowing, and quite a number 
 of them were proficient oarsmen and excellent navi- 
 gators. 
 
 On the Saturday afternoon following the return 
 from the camp Colonel Brockridge proposed to 
 exercise the boys in the boats. This announcement 
 was received with hearty applause by the cadets, 
 and they gathered round the principal to learn the 
 order of exercises upon the lake. 
 
 "Well, boys, suppose we appoint a coupl* of 
 coxswains and have a race." 
 
 "Hurrah 1" shouted the boys. "A race! A 
 race!" 
 
 212
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 213 
 
 "You like the plan, I see. Who shall be your 
 leaders?" added the colonel. 
 
 The boys made no reply, but looked curiously 
 at each other, as though they were not competent 
 to settle the question. 
 
 "Nevers for one," said Redman. 
 
 "Very well; Nevers, we all know, is a good boat- 
 man, and has always won the races. Who shall 
 be the other?" 
 
 No reply was made, and the principal waited 
 some time for a suggestion. 
 
 "Grant has had considerable experience with 
 boats, his father informed me," continued Colonel 
 Brockridge. 
 
 "Grant! Grant!" shouted the boys. 
 
 "Grant shall be coxswain of the other boat, then. 
 What do you say, Grant?" 
 
 "I am very willing, sir, if the fellows desire it," 
 replied Richard, modestly. 
 
 "Very well. The race shall come off at four 
 o'clock. Each leader shall have two hours to train 
 his crew. The course shall be round Green Island 
 and home, making a pull of about three miles.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 You shall draw lots for the choice of boats, though 
 I don't think there is a particle of difference be- 
 tween them." 
 
 The choice was between the Alice and the Emma, 
 as the two club boats had been named. Nevers 
 drew the first choice, and selected the Alice, and 
 of course Richard was obliged to be satisfied with 
 the Emma. 
 
 "The coxswains shall select their own crews. 
 Now, draw for the first choice." 
 
 Nevers drew the prize this time also, and named 
 Redman as his stroke oarsman. Richard took 
 Bailey for the same station, and they continued to 
 select alternately till each had taken his twelve 
 oarsmen. The coxswain of the Alice had a decided 
 advantage over his rival, for he had a complete 
 knowledge of the capacity of each boy, and had 
 before taken part in several races on the lake. 
 Richard was aided in choosing by his friends whom 
 he had selected, and when they stepped into the 
 boat he was well satisfied with his crew. 
 
 "We shall get beaten," said Bailey, in a low 
 tone, as they shoved off the Emma,
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 215 
 
 "What makes you think so, Bailey?" demanded 
 Richard, with a smile. 
 
 "Nevers is a good boatman. He knows all about 
 a boat, and when he was in command he always 
 won the race." 
 
 "Don't you croak, Bailey," laughed Richard. 
 "I have seen a boat before to-day, and I tell you 
 we shall not get beaten." 
 
 The coxswain spoke in a loud tone, so that all 
 his crew could hear him, for he knew that the first 
 requisite of success was confidence. 
 
 "I hope so," said Bailey. "I would rather any 
 other fellow in the school should beat you than 
 Nevers. It will be a feather in his cap." 
 
 "Don't croak, Bailey. Just believe that we shall 
 beat, and we shall." 
 
 "I hope we shall. Nevers first got ahead of all 
 the fellows in boating. His success elected him 
 to his first office in the company, and if he beats 
 you in this race he will be captain at the next elec- 
 tion. The boys will all stand by the fellow that 
 beats in anything." 
 
 "There, Bailey, if you say another word, I shall
 
 216 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 wish I had chosen some other fellow. You will 
 defeat us if you keep on croaking," added the cox- 
 swain, earnestly. 
 
 "I'm not croaking. I only want you to under- 
 stand what you have got to do; and I will do all 
 I can to help you win the race. What are you 
 going up here for?" demanded Bailey, as the boat's 
 bow was pointed down the river, which was the out- 
 let of the lake. 
 
 "You ask too many questions, Bailey. If you 
 will leave this thing to me, I will agree to whip 
 Nevers all to pieces," said Richard, who did not 
 like the discipline on board the Emma. 
 
 "All right, Grant. Let him alone, Bailey," said 
 one of the boys in the middle of the boat. 
 
 "Where's the other boat?" asked Richard. "I 
 see her; she has gone up the lake. That's just 
 what I wanted her to do. I have a little business 
 to do here before we go into the race." 
 
 He ordered the crew to cease rowing, and, to 
 the surprise of his companions, ran the boat up to 
 the shore. As he had intimated to them that ques- 
 tions were not agreeable to him, they asked none,
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 217 
 
 and waited patiently till his movements should ex- 
 plain themselves. 
 
 "Now, Bailey, will you go up to the store-house, 
 and bring down some black lead, and the brushes 
 they use to clean the stoves? Don't let anybody 
 see you, and don't say a word to any one." 
 
 Bailey did not very clearly understand what this 
 request had to do with winning the race, but he 
 ran off with all haste to execute the mission en- 
 trusted to him. While he was gone, Richard im- 
 proved the opportunity to develop his system of 
 rowing to his companions. He had attended a 
 great many boat races on the Hudson, had be- 
 longed to a boat club in Whitestone, and had clear 
 ideas upon all matters connected with the busi- 
 ness of boating. 
 
 On the return of the messenger the articles he 
 had brought were thrown into the stern sheets, and 
 the boat shoved off. Again, to the surprise of the 
 crew, Richard took them down the river, half a 
 mile, till they came to a sandy shore, where he 
 grounded the Emma.
 
 218 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "Now, tumble out, fellows," said Richard, "and 
 take your oars with you." 
 
 The boys wondered more than before at the sin- 
 gular proceedings of the coxswain, and Bailey so 
 far overcame his respect for discipline again as to 
 suggest that they should have no time to practise 
 with the oars if they spent the precious moments 
 in this stupid manner. 
 
 "Shut up, Bailey; I have more to lose in this 
 race than you have," said Richard, rather curtly. 
 "If the fellows don't believe in me for this business 
 I am willing to step one side, and let any other 
 one take hold who thinks he can do it better than 
 I can." 
 
 "Go ahead, Grant!" shouted the crew. "We 
 are all satisfied, and so is Bailey." 
 
 "I won't speak another word, Grant," said 
 Bailey. "I only wish I had as much confidence as 
 you have." 
 
 "Bear a hand lively, my lads," added Richard, 
 as he seized the painter of the boat; "I want to get 
 her out of the water." 
 
 The boys took hold with a will, and the Emma
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 219 
 
 was soon placed high and dry upon the beach. She 
 was then turned over. 
 
 "There, fellows," said Richard, as he pointed to 
 the foul bottom of the boat, "do you expect to win 
 a race with the craft in that condition? In fifteen 
 minutes we will have her in the water again as clean 
 as a lady's parlor." 
 
 By direction of the coxswain, the crew fell to 
 scrubbing the bottom of the boat with an earnest- 
 ness and zeal which soon removed every trace of 
 moss and grass. She was then permitted to dry 
 for a short time, and the bright October sun soon 
 completed their work. The bottom was then cov- 
 ered with the black lead, and rubbed with the 
 brushes till it shone like a newly-polished stove. 
 The boys used their muscle upon the brushes, being 
 relieved every minute by fresh hands. 
 
 "Now, my lads, we are in condition to win the 
 race. Shove her off," said Richard, whose energy 
 inspired the whole party with resolution and con- 
 fidence. 
 
 The Emma was afloat again ; the boys took their 
 places, though not till Richard had rearranged
 
 220 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 them by their weight, so that the boat was in per- 
 fect trim when she started. For an hour and a 
 half Richard trained them in rowing, till the stroke 
 exactly suited him, and they fully understood all his 
 signs and signals. 
 
 "Now, fellows, mind your eyes, and we are sure 
 to win," said the wideawake coxswain, as the gun 
 fired that was to call them to the stake boat. "I 
 never saw a better set of rowers in my life, and I 
 am as well satisfied with you as though we had been 
 pulling together for a year." 
 
 "Bully for you, Grant," said one of the boys at 
 the bow. 
 
 The Emma pulled leisurely up to the large sail- 
 boat, on board of which were the colonel, the as- 
 sistant teachers, and as many of the boys as she 
 would comfortably accommodate. 
 
 "Are you all ready?" shouted the colonel, as 
 the Alice and the Emma took their stations. 
 
 "All ready, sir," replied Richard, cheerfully. 
 
 "All ready, sir," added Nevers, confidently. 
 
 Both parties were impatient for the contest to 
 begin, and both were almost certain of winning the
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 victory. Even the boats seemed to share in the 
 spirit of their crews, and anxious to have the fetters 
 removed that they might bound away upon the 
 errand of conquest. Each had appropriate flags 
 at the bow and stern, and one with a taste for boats 
 would have been delighted by the appearance of 
 the trim craft. 
 
 "Ready for the signal!" shouted the colonel 
 again. 
 
 "Down with that flag in the bow, Carter," said 
 Richard to the bowman, as he took down the colors 
 in the stern. 
 
 "What's that for?" asked one of the crew of the 
 Emma. 
 
 "They hold the wind, and keep us back a little. 
 We will be on the safe side. Now, ready, fellows, 
 and mind what I have said to you. Don't look 
 at the other boat till you can see her over our stern." 
 
 Nevers disdained to follow the example of his 
 rival in removing his flags, saying that he could 
 beat him with his colors flying. Nevers prided 
 himself upon his skill in handling a boat, and he 
 felt that the opportunity had come which would
 
 222 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 enable him to triumph over the hated usurper, as 
 he considered Richard. He knew how much glory 
 and honor would be awarded to the conqueror in 
 this race, and that if he could beat his rival scores 
 of those fair-weather friends, who always attach 
 themselves to a rising man, would leave him. 
 
 The signal gun was on shore, and at a gesture 
 from the colonel it was discharged. The report 
 seemed to unloose the bonds which chained the 
 boats to their stations, and they bounded away. 
 The crew of the Alice bent to their oars with the 
 most tremendous energy, while that of the Emma 
 seemed to be inspired by the cool and steady nerve 
 of her coxswain. They had been fully and thor- 
 oughly instructed in their duty. 
 
 The crowd of boys on the shore were silent and 
 breathless with the interest they felt in the exciting 
 race ; and when, before the boats had gone a quarter 
 of a mile, they discovered the Alice more than half 
 a length ahead of her companion, the jaws of Rich- 
 ard's friends dropped, and their faces were as long 
 as though a ten-pound weight had been fastened 
 to the chin of each, while a smile of triumphant
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 223 
 
 satisfaction lighted up the faces of Nevers's well- 
 wishers. 
 
 "Nevers has it !" exclaimed one of his intimates, 
 as, when she rounded Green Island, the Alice was 
 found to be more than a length ahead of the Emma. 
 
 "Not yet," said one of the other clique. "Let 
 Dick Grant alone. He knows what he is about. 
 He don't half try yet." 
 
 The crew of the Emma could not yet see the 
 Alice over the stern of the boat, and we doubt not 
 they shared the anxiety and despondency of their 
 friends on shore. But no sooner had the boats 
 rounded the island, and commenced on the home 
 stretch, than Richard's vibrating body began grad- 
 ually to move more rapidly, and just in proportion 
 as he increased the movement, the Emma lessened 
 the distance between himself and the Alice. 
 
 "Steady, fellows; don't get excited. Drp a little 
 deeper," said Richard, in a quiet, cool tone. "We 
 are doing splendidly, and you shall see the Alice 
 over the stern in about three minutes." 
 
 Nevers, as in the fight with his rival, began to 
 be very much excited when he saw that he was
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 losing ground. He spoke quick and earnest words 
 to the crew of his boat, who had been doing their 
 utmost from the beginning, urging them to increase 
 their exertions. Richard had not permitted his 
 crew to do their best at first, but had kept in their 
 muscles a reserve of strength for the final emer- 
 gency. The party in the Alice had no such reserve 
 power, and their efforts to increase the speed of the 
 boat were put forth at the expense of a proper at- 
 tention to skill and precision. 
 
 The boats were now side by side, and they con- 
 tinued in this relative position until they were 
 within half a mile of the stake boat. The race had 
 become intensely exciting, and again the two cliques 
 on shore were breathless and silent with interest. 
 Neither party had anything to indicate the success 
 of its favorite. 
 
 Even yet Richard had not put his crew to their 
 utmost. But the decisive moment had arrived, and 
 his body began to sway backward and forward with 
 increasing rapidity, and a quarter of a mile more 
 gave him half a boat-length's advantage over his 
 rival.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 225 
 
 "Steady, fellows; keep cool," said he, in a loud 
 whisper. "Don't miss a stroke, and make every 
 one tell all it will. Now you see her over the stern, 
 but pull steady." 
 
 The Emma was a length ahead of the Alice when 
 Richard finished these remarks. The boats were 
 within an eighth of a mile of the end of the course, 
 and the murmuring applause of the Grant party 
 on shore began to reach the ears of the contestants. 
 
 "Pull! Pull!" shouted Nevers, filled with rage 
 and vexation. "Pull with all your might, fellows. 
 We can beat him yet, if you only stick to it." 
 
 He increased the rapidity of his motions, but 
 his crew were unable to keep up with him. Their 
 stroke was unsteady; some of them forgot to 
 feather their oars, and some scarcely dipped the 
 blades in the water. 
 
 "Steady!" said Richard, with more energy. 
 "Mind your stroke. Keep both eyes on me. Here 
 we are!" shouted he, jumping up from his seat in 
 the stern and giving the order to cease rowing. 
 
 The Emma flew by the stake boat two and a 
 half lengths ahead of the Alice, and a stunning roar
 
 226 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 of cheers from the shore and the sailboat saluted 
 the victors. 
 
 "Grant forever! Three cheers for Grant!" 
 shouted Bailey, as the crew of the Emma rose and 
 made the welkin ring with their huzzas.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 RICHARD WINS ANOTHER RACE, AND TUNBROOK 
 IS MUTINOUS 
 
 IT was a proud moment for Richard Grant when 
 he rose from the stern sheets of the Emma, and 
 found the Alice was two or three lengths behind, 
 and when he heard the shouts of his friends rend 
 the air. It was victory another triumph over the 
 Regulators, who had threatened to make Tunbrook 
 too hot to hold him. They did not get ahead very 
 fast, and he felt that his conquest over them was 
 complete. 
 
 The hour of prosperity, of triumph, is the most 
 dangerous period in the experience of a young man. 
 He is on the top of the wave, and he sees not the 
 dark abyss that yawns on either side of him. Truly 
 we need adversity to keep us from forgetting God 
 and duty; to keep us from forgetting that truth and 
 justice are more mighty than mere success.
 
 228 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 But when Richard came to Tunbrook he came 
 with a solemn resolution to forsake the error of 
 his ways, and find happiness in the path of recti- 
 tude. Whatever success had attended him he at- 
 tributed to the influence of this good resolution. 
 He had manfully resisted temptation ; he had cured 
 himself of several bad habits, and he had made 
 good progress in the conquest of himself. He had 
 often felt an inclination to resent with hard words 
 and heavy blows the sneers of the Nevers faction, 
 but he had controlled himself; and each victory of 
 principle over inclination had made him stronger 
 in his purpose to do right. 
 
 Bertha's answer to his letter, in which he had 
 informed her of his election to the post of sergeant, 
 cautioned him against being too much elated by 
 his good fortune. She hoped his promotion would 
 not make him think too much of himself. When 
 he realized that he had won a new victory, when 
 he heard the boys shouting his name, the words of 
 his sister came to his mind, and he determined to 
 bear his honors meekly, and to feel kindly toward 
 Nevers and his friends.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 229 
 
 As they pulled to the stake boat, Richard cau- 
 tioned his crew not to "crow" over the fellows in 
 the other boat, for it was a friendly contest, and 
 he did not wish to see any ill feeling on either side. 
 The Alice was already alongside the sailboat. 
 Nevers was in no enviable frame of mind; he 
 looked dark and sour, and Richard only bestowed 
 one glance upon him, lest his looks should be mis- 
 construed. 
 
 "Grant, you have won the race," said Colonel 
 Brockridge, as the Emma came up. "I had no 
 idea of such a result." 
 
 "Three cheers for Grant!" shouted an enthu- 
 siastic boy in the sailboat. 
 
 "No," added the principal, as he glanced at the 
 crestfallen coxswain of the Alice, and saw that he 
 was taking his defeat very hardly. "You have 
 cheered enough. We don't want any unkind feel- 
 ings to grow out of this affair. Nevers, you have 
 been beaten, but " 
 
 "I shouldn't have been, if I had had fair play," 
 growled Nevers, whose anger was manifest in his 
 tones.
 
 230 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "Has there been any foul play?" demanded the 
 colonel. 
 
 "Yes, sir, there has," replied Nevers, sharply. 
 
 "What was it?" 
 
 "The fellows in the Emma took her out of the 
 water, cleaned her, and covered her bottom with 
 black lead." 
 
 "I don't see any unfair play in that. You had 
 the right to use your time for preparation as you 
 wished," said the principal. 
 
 "He couldn't have beaten if his boat hadn't been 
 in better condition," added Nevers. 
 
 "It is a good driver that keeps his horse in good 
 condition. I think it is rulable for each crew to 
 prepare their boat as they think best." 
 
 "Well, he beat us by a trick. What did they 
 go down the river for to haul up their boat ?" 
 
 "That is their business. I see you are not sat- 
 isfied, Nevers." 
 
 "No, sir, I am not. I like to have fair play in 
 these things." 
 
 "So do I," said the colonel, with a quiet smile, 
 "and I think you had better try this thing over
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 again. Now, suppose you exchange boats and pull 
 round once more, that we may see how much good 
 the black lead did. What do you say, Grant?" 
 
 "I am willing, sir," replied Richard. 
 
 "We are all fagged out, now, sir," interposed 
 Nevers. 
 
 "I proposed this method to remove your objec- 
 tions to the race, Nevers. You might have cleaned 
 your boat, if you had been so disposed." 
 
 "I didn't think of it," snarled Nevers. 
 
 "If a general should get beaten because he did 
 not think to bring up his ammunition, or by neglect- 
 ing any precaution, his want of forethought would 
 hardly be deemed a sufficient excuse. I should like 
 to have you exchange boats for a short pull, if you 
 don't go round the island." 
 
 "We are tired out, sir." 
 
 "The other crew have pulled the same distance 
 you have," added the principal. 
 
 "Try it, Nevers; try it," whispered Redman. 
 "We shall be laughed at for a month if we don't. 
 We will whip them this time."
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "I am willing to try it, sir," said Nevers, though 
 his words belied his feelings. 
 
 Both crews were somewhat rested from the fa- 
 tigue of the race, and they exchanged places in the 
 two boats, taking the positions assigned to them. 
 
 "We shall get beat this time, sure," said Bailey. 
 
 "No, we won't," replied Richard. 
 
 "Well, if you say so, then we shall not. It would 
 be the greatest thing that ever was if we should 
 whip them again. It will show that black lead 
 isn't a great institution, after all." 
 
 "No, it won't. Those fellows don't pull worth 
 a cent. If they can't do better than they did be- 
 fore, we shall whip them all to pieces. Now, mind 
 what I told you ; don't hurry, and keep cool." 
 
 The signal was given, and the two boats dashed 
 off. The race was very nearly a repetition of the 
 first one. Richard kept a sufficient quantity of 
 muscle in reserve for the last half mile of the race, 
 and came in about a boat length ahead of the 
 Emma. The one and a half length's difference in 
 the two races seemed precisely to indicate the 
 amount of virtue in black lead.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT S33 
 
 Again the thundering cheers of the Grant party 
 reverberated over the lake and through the grove. 
 Nevers was astonished, as well as angry, and his 
 face was darker than ever. 
 
 "Are you satisfied now, Nevers?" asked the 
 colonel, when the Alice and the Emma came along- 
 side the stake boat. 
 
 "Yes, sir," replied he, desperately; "but I don't 
 understand it." 
 
 "I do," said the principal. "The other crew 
 pull better than yours. I never saw better pulling 
 in my life than those fellows showed us. I hope 
 there is no hard feeling between you." 
 
 "No, sir," replied Nevers; but his looks and his 
 tones belied his words. 
 
 "He will pull us all down at this rate," mut- 
 tered Redman, as the Emma left the stake boat. 
 
 "Something must be done," added Nevers. "He 
 has got half the fellows on his side now." 
 
 "What shall we do?" asked Redman, who 
 seemed to regard it as a hopeless case. 
 
 "We'll fix him yet." 
 
 Some earnest conversation followed these re-
 
 234 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 marks. It was carried on in whispers, and entirely 
 suspended when the Alice approached. The boats 
 were secured, and both crews landed. 
 
 "Grant, you have beaten me fairly, and there is 
 my hand," said Nevers, when the two coxswains 
 met on shore. 
 
 Richard was utterly confounded by this show of 
 good will on the part of his rival. He took the 
 proffered hand, and gave it a hearty pressure. 
 
 "Thank you, Nevers; it is very kind of you to 
 treat me in this handsome manner. I'm sure I 
 don't feel any ill will toward you," replied Richard. 
 
 "We will be friends, Grant, and perhaps you 
 will tell me how this thing was done?" 
 
 "With the greatest pleasure." 
 
 "You have some secret in rowing." 
 
 "I will tell you all I know about it, any time 
 you please," said Richard, frankly. 
 
 "Thank you; you are the first fellow that ever 
 beat me rowing, and I honor you for it, but I don't 
 understand it. Shall we be friends now, Grant?" 
 
 "With all my heart." 
 
 Richard could not have been more astonished
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 235 
 
 if the sky had fallen than he was when his great 
 enemy approached him with words of kindness and 
 conciliation. He could scarcely believe his senses ; 
 but there was Nevers by his side, as good-natured 
 as though he had won the race; and more than 
 this, the rival crews were suddenly on the most 
 excellent terms, and were fraternizing like brothers. 
 Nevers had evidently given up the point, and in- 
 tended to withdraw all opposition to the advance- 
 ment of Richard. 
 
 Nevers and his friends seemed to be sincere, and 
 the hatchet appeared to have been actually buried. 
 Richard was so well treated by them that he came 
 to the conclusion that the Regulators had been dis- 
 solved, or at least that they had turned their atten- 
 tion to some more promising field of labor. 
 
 On the first of November, when the boys assem- 
 bled for morning prayers, the principal announced 
 a new regulation, requiring every member of the 
 Institute to be indoors during the off time, from 
 seven till nine in the evening. Before, they had 
 been permitted to go where they pleased during 
 these hours, as long as they did not leave the estate.
 
 236 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 But some of the boys had been seen in the village 
 of Tunbrook after eight in the evening; and all 
 efforts to discover who they were had been unavail- 
 ing. The prohibition had been made to correct 
 this evil. 
 
 When the new regulation was announced there 
 was a general murmur of disapprobation among 
 the students, for some of their best sport had been 
 enjoyed out of doors after dark. No one ventured 
 to remonstrate, but the order was exceedingly un- 
 popular. 
 
 "I won't stand it," said one and another during 
 the first recreation hour in the afternoon. "It's too 
 bad; it will spoil all our fun." 
 
 "The fellows are all agreed on this point," said 
 Redman. 
 
 "I am willing to observe all reasonable regula- 
 tions, but we might as well go into a monastery as 
 submit to this thing," added Nevers. "What do 
 you say, Grant?" 
 
 "I don't like it. We intended to have a first- 
 rate game of football these moonlight evenings."
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 237 
 
 "There isn't a fellow in the school that likes it," 
 said Redman. 
 
 "That's so," replied Bailey. "I don't see the 
 use of the rule either." 
 
 "Nor I." 
 
 "Some of the fellows have been down to Tun- 
 brook almost every night." 
 
 "What's that to us, as long as we didn't go?" 
 said Bailey. "The innocent ought not to be pun- 
 ished with the guilty." 
 
 "The colonel couldn't find out who they were," 
 said Redman, with a kind of chuckle. "No fel- 
 low would 'blow' on the others." 
 
 "It is easy enough to talk," said Bailey, "but 
 what are you going to do?" 
 
 "Do? Why, resist it, of course," replied Red- 
 man. "I am ready to do so, for one. Let us all 
 stay out to-night till nine o'clock." 
 
 "Agreed," added some of the larger boys. 
 
 "We shall get punished if we do," suggested 
 Bailey. 
 
 "No matter. They will have to punish the
 
 238 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 whole crowd. The guard house won't hold us all," 
 replied Redman. 
 
 "Let us have a plan about it. We will get up 
 a regular mutiny," said Nevers. "If we can get 
 a hundred fellows to go with us we shall make the 
 old man cave in." 
 
 "Good, Nevers! Let all the fellows that will 
 join meet under the big oak by the river at five 
 o'clock, or as soon as we get out of school. Let 
 each fellow talk it round in a quiet way, but don't 
 let the teachers hear a word." 
 
 "Will you be there, Grant?" asked Nevers. 
 
 "I don't know. I will see." 
 
 "Don't know?" said Nevers. "Don't you see 
 all the fellows are in for it?" 
 
 "I will think of it," replied Richard, as he 
 walked away.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 RICHARD IS DETERMINED, AND SOME ALLUSION IS 
 MADE TO "WATERMELONS" 
 
 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 prin- 
 cipal 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 dis- 
 approbation of the new regulation. The colonel 
 was a universal favorite, and they had full con- 
 
 239
 
 240 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 fidence 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 ob- 
 tain 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 pro- 
 posed was exactly in accordance with his antece- 
 dents. 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
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 so. The little time he had to think of the matter 
 during the study and recreation hours did not en- 
 able 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 resist- 
 ance 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 determina- 
 tion. "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 anything more than simply refuse to join 
 the mutiny. Somehow it entered into his head that
 
 IN SCHOOL AND 'OUT 
 
 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 anybody's life, property, or 
 happiness had been at stake he might have felt dif- 
 ferently. 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 in- 
 terrupted his meditations. They appeared to be 
 a committee appointed to wait upon him, and ascer- 
 tain his views upon the momentous question. 
 
 "You didn't come down," said Nevers. 
 
 "No ; I have concluded not to join in the scrape," 
 replied Richard, gravely. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Because I don't think it is right; and I think
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 if we speak to the colonel about the matter he will 
 make it all right." 
 
 "I tell you, Grant, he has no right to make such 
 a regulation," added Nevers, with energy; "and I, 
 for one, am not going to beg him not to do that 
 which he has no right to do." 
 
 "Come, Grant, you are almost the only fellow 
 in the school who won't join the mutiny," said Red- 
 man. 
 
 "The fellows are all in for it, and you had better 
 come," added Bailey. 
 
 "No; I won't join," replied Richard, decidedly. 
 
 "Come down to the grove, whether you join or 
 not," suggested Nevers. 
 
 "I am willing to go down to the grove, but I 
 shall not go in for this scrape." 
 
 "Come along, then." 
 
 The boys walked over to the grove, the commit- 
 tee using all their eloquence and logic to induce 
 Richard to change his mind; but thus far he re- 
 mained firm and loyal to his good resolution. His 
 arrival at the grove created a sensation, for it
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 seemed to be evidence that he was to form one of 
 the party. 
 
 The position of Richard Grant on the present 
 occasion was so novel that he could hardly believe 
 in his own identity. Like the old woman with the 
 little pig, it did not seem to be he that was refusing 
 an invitation to join in a scrape so harmless as the 
 one proposed ; and he almost needed an introduction 
 to himself. 
 
 But Richard was himself, truly himself him- 
 self in the highest and noblest sense. His deter- 
 mination to keep his resolution seemed to create 
 around him an atmosphere of purity, and the more 
 he breathed it, the firmer and the stronger he be- 
 came. The boys exhorted him singly, in couples, 
 and by squads, to join the foolish enterprise, but 
 without effect. 
 
 "Better come with us, Grant," said Nevers. 
 "We have got a first-rate plan, and we shall have 
 a tip-top time." 
 
 "I have fully made up my mind not to go," re- 
 plied Richard. 

 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 24-5 
 
 "I shall not go, if Grant doesn't," added Bailey. 
 
 "Nor I," said another. 
 
 "Back out will you?" sneered Nevers, his face 
 darkening with an expression of anger. 
 
 "I said I would join if Grant did," replied 
 Bailey, stung by the reproach. 
 
 Most of the boys were silent for a time, for the 
 decided and unexpected stand taken by Richard, the 
 favorite of the school, altered the complexion of 
 the whole affair. This silence was succeeded by 
 a more unequivocal demonstration. One after an- 
 other followed the example of Bailey, and deserted 
 the bad cause, till Richard found himself no longer 
 alone, but supported by at least thirty of the best 
 fellows in the Institute; and then they began to 
 come over in squads. 
 
 "You are the meanest set of cowards I ever saw 
 in my life," exclaimed Nevers, bitterly, when the 
 enterprise appeared to be fully nipped in the bud. 
 
 "Grant is right," several of the boys replied. 
 
 "Grant !" sneered Nevers, angrily. "He wasn't 
 always so nice as he is now." 
 
 "That's so," said Redman, as he placed himself
 
 246 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 by the side of the bully. "We know a thing or two 
 about Grant, before he became pious." 
 
 "What do you mean by pious ?" demanded Rich- 
 ard, stepping up to the speaker ; and as he did so his 
 fists were involuntarily clenched. 
 
 "Watermelons !" replied Redman, vindictively. 
 
 "Watermelons !" added Nevers. 
 
 "Watermelons I" responded a dozen or more of 
 the large boys, who had gathered around Redman. 
 
 "Do you walk in your sleep any now, Grant?" 
 said Redman, with a mocking laugh. "You wasn't 
 pious then." 
 
 Richard was so mortified and confused by these 
 taunts that he wished the earth might open and 
 hide him from the exulting gaze of his assailants. 
 His blood boiled with shame and indignation, and 
 more than ever before he realized that "the way of 
 the transgressor is hard." His first impulse was 
 to rush upon his dastardly foes, and crush them be- 
 neath the weight of his strong arm. 
 
 Most of the boys looked at each other with aston- 
 ishment, wondering what could be meant by "water- 
 melons," and walking in his sleep. It was evident
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 247 
 
 to Richard that only a few of his companions under- 
 stood the reflections cast upon him. There he 
 stood, trembling, as it were, in the balance, and 
 ready to be carried up or down by this new and 
 most terrible trial up into a higher sphere of vir- 
 tue, or down into a deeper degradation than any he 
 had yet fathomed. 
 
 "I will be true to myself!" said he to himself, 
 after he had stood silent for a moment, blushing 
 with shame, and assailed by the foe without and 
 the foe within. 
 
 His clenched fist unclosed, the muscles relaxed, 
 and though his face was still red, a smile of triumph 
 played upon his lips. 
 
 "Will you go, Watermelons?" sneered Redman. 
 
 "I will not," replied Richard. 
 
 "Shut up, Redman," interposed Nevers, who en- 
 tirely mistook the singular change which had come 
 over Richard's countenance. "Come, Grant, you 
 and I will talk it over alone" ; and he took his arm 
 and led him away from the crowd. 
 
 "You see we know all about these things," con- 
 tinued Nevers, "but we don't want to be hard upon
 
 MS IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 you. Only about a dozen of us know anything 
 about those scrapes." 
 
 "Who told you about them?" asked Richard. 
 
 "That's nothing to the purpose. You are a good 
 fellow, Grant, and I advise you to join us; if you 
 do, not a fellow shall ever say a word about water- 
 melons or sleep-walking." 
 
 "I will not join you, whatever you say and what- 
 ever you do." 
 
 "Then you won't hear anything but watermelons 
 while you stay here. I called you out as a friend, 
 and I think you had better go with us." 
 
 "I will not." 
 
 "Then we will tell all the fellows." 
 
 "I will save you the trouble by telling them my- 
 self." 
 
 "Come, Grant." 
 
 "I will not." 
 
 "Go it, then, Watermelons !" said Nevers, as he 
 ran back to the others, and told them of the result 
 of the interview. 
 
 Richard wondered who could have informed 
 them of his scrapes, but he could form no idea.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 249 
 
 Lest our readers should be equally in the dark, we 
 will tell them, confidentially, that Sandy Brimble- 
 com had done the mischief. A cousin of his, on 
 his way to Tunbrook, had stopped a day in White- 
 stone. This relative was, unfortunately, one of 
 the Nevers faction, and the information he brought 
 was carefully preserved for an emergency. 
 
 "All who join, come under the big tree !" shouted 
 Redman. "If you walk in your sleep, Grant, per- 
 haps you will pay us a visit." 
 
 "Asleep or awake," replied Richard, calmly, but 
 forcibly, "I shall know enough to keep out of bad 
 company." 
 
 "Do you mean me by that?" demanded Redman, 
 rushing up to Richard and shaking his fist in his 
 face. 
 
 "I do." 
 
 "Then take that"; and Redman struck Richard 
 in the face. 
 
 The latter did take that, but the next instant his 
 assailant lay upon the ground, where Richard with 
 a single blow had thrown him.
 
 250 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "None of that, Redman," interposed Nevers. 
 "The colonel will be down upon us." 
 
 "Let's lick him," said another. 
 
 "I am ready," coolly replied Richard, throwing 
 off his coat. 
 
 But prudence carried the day, and the mutineers 
 retired to the big oak. Only about fifty, or one- 
 fourth of the students, responded to the call of Red- 
 man, and the rest retired from the ground. 
 
 "What did they mean by 'watermelons'?" asked 
 Bailey, as they walked up to the Institute. 
 
 "I'll tell you all about it," replied Richard. "I 
 got into some scrapes before I came here" ; and he 
 told his companions the whole story. "But, fel- 
 lows, I have turned over a new leaf." 
 
 "Good!" said Bailey. "I am glad you told us; 
 and I'm sure no decent fellow in the Institute will 
 ever fling it at you." 
 
 Richard felt better when he had told the whole 
 truth. He confided in his friends, and feared not 
 his enemies. When they reached the parade 
 ground they saw that the mutineers had taken pos- 
 session of every one of the boats, and were sailing
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 251 
 
 up the lake toward Green Island. They dared not 
 return to the Institute, fearing that their plan might 
 be discovered. 
 
 Richard was informed that arrangements had 
 been made before he joined them; that they in- 
 tended to take all the boats, so that the instructors 
 could not reach them, and encamp on the island. 
 
 When the rolls were called, the absence of about 
 fifty of the boys was discovered by the teachers. 
 The truth came out, and the sharp eye of Colonel 
 Brockridge seemed to glow with unwonted luster.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 RICHARD VISITS GREEN ISLAND, AND THE REGU- 
 LATORS CONSIDER THEIR PLANS 
 
 THE evening exercises proceeded as usual, no 
 allusion whatever being made to the absence of the 
 mutineers, after the facts had been revealed. But 
 no one supposed that the energetic principal would 
 drop the matter where it then stood. 
 
 Richard had been "putting that and that to- 
 gether" since the events which had transpired in 
 the grove, till he was pretty well satisfied that the 
 mutineers now upon Green Island were the Regu- 
 lators. The evidences which led him to this con- 
 clusion had been carefully collected from the time 
 he had been whipped by them in the woods near ths 
 camp. Though Nevers had appeared to be very 
 friendly since the race, his conduct had not been 
 above suspicion. 
 
 252
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 253 
 
 During the evening the boys had a great deal 
 to say about the mutiny, and some of them even 
 regretted that they had not joined, especially as the 
 colonel did not seem to care much about the affair. 
 About eight o'clock in the evening Richard was sent 
 for by the principal. 
 
 "Grant," said Colonel Brockridge, as Richard 
 entered the office, "I have heard all about your 
 conduct, and I wish to express to you my approba- 
 tion. You have, indeed, turned over a new leaf, 
 as you told the boys, and I congratulate you upon 
 your success in keeping your good resolution. I 
 have just written a letter to your father, which you 
 may read." 
 
 The principal handed him the letter, and with a 
 glow of pride and satisfaction, Richard read the 
 high commendation which was bestowed upon him. 
 There was no allusion to the affair of the day, and 
 the praise covered his general conduct since he had 
 been at Tunbrook. 
 
 "I learn that you have been true to yourself, and 
 true to the rules of the Institute, under peculiar 
 trials. I sympathize with you. But you have
 
 254- IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 won the respect and regard of all the good boys. 
 You can afford to be disliked by the others." 
 
 "I have tried to do my duty, sir," replied Rich- 
 ard, blushing at the praise bestowed upon him. 
 
 "You have done well. I know how fond you 
 are of exciting adventure, and I wonder that you 
 had the strength to resist this temptation." 
 
 "I am surprised myself," added Richard. 
 
 "If I except the fight, which was greatly palliated 
 by the circumstances, and the sleeping on guard 
 when we were in camp, your conduct has been en- 
 tirely unexceptionable since you came to the Insti- 
 tute. Sleeping on guard is not " 
 
 "I didn't sleep on guard, sir," interposed Rich- 
 ard, mildly and respectfully. "I am prepared to 
 explain all about that now." 
 
 "Indeed? It is rather late now," said the prin- 
 cipal, shaking his head. 
 
 "I think I have unearthed the Regulators." 
 
 "The Regulators ? I haven't heard anything of 
 them for a year. I supposed they no longer ex- 
 isted."
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "They do exist," added Richard. "I happen to 
 know something about them." 
 
 "What do you know?' 
 
 In reply to this question, Richard narrated all 
 the particulars of his abduction from his post while 
 doing guard duty. 
 
 "But why didn't you tell me about this?" de- 
 manded the colonel, surprised and indignant at the 
 audacity of the Regulators. "Why did you suffer 
 the penalty of deserting your post, when you were 
 innocent ?" 
 
 "I thought it would be better in the end, sir. I 
 wanted to find out who the Regulators were." 
 
 "Well, have you found out?" 
 
 "I think I have, sir." 
 
 "Who are they?" 
 
 "I am pretty well satisfied that they are en- 
 camped upon Green Island just now," said Richard, 
 with a smile. 
 
 "What evidence have you?" 
 
 Richard stated, at considerable length, the facts 
 and incidents which had led him to this conclusion; 
 but the colonel was not fully satisfied.
 
 256 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 "If you will permit me, sir, I think I could prove 
 what I say to your entire satisfaction." 
 
 "What do you wish to do?" 
 
 "I wish to visit Green Island," replied Richard, 
 boldly. 
 
 "They would whip you again." 
 
 "I am not afraid of them." 
 
 "How will you get over to the island? The 
 young rascals have taken all the boats." 
 
 "I can borrow a skiff ; if not, I can go over on 
 a plank." 
 
 "But they would handle you rather roughly." 
 
 "I don't intend to let them see me. I think I 
 can manage the matter, sir." 
 
 "Well, Grant, your plan will harmonize with 
 mine. I intend to punish these mutineers, as they 
 foolishly call themselves, in a novel way; and I 
 have already made my arrangements to do so. But 
 you shall carry out your scheme first." 
 
 "I should be very glad to do so, acid I am con- 
 fident that I shall succeed." 
 
 "You shall try it, at all events."
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 257 
 
 "Will you let Bailey go with me?" asked Rich- 
 ard. 
 
 "No; I do not wish to expose him to danger. 
 ,You can take care of yourself, it appears, if you 
 get into trouble. Do you want some one with 
 you?" 
 
 "I think it would be better." 
 
 "Mr. Gault shall accompany you, but you shall 
 manage the matter yourself." 
 
 "Very well, sir. What shall I do for a boat?" 
 
 "You shall have one of the pontoon boats. It 
 will be better than a skiff." 
 
 "Good! I didn't think of that," said Richard, 
 with enthusiasm. 
 
 "Now, Grant, not a word must be said of the 
 events of to-night." 
 
 It was after nine o'clock when this conference 
 was finished, and the boys had retired. Richard 
 and the principal left the office and repaired to the 
 stables, where they found three of the instructors, 
 including Mr. Gault. The horses were attached 
 to the pontoon wagon, ready for the start. The 
 whole party seated themselves in the vehicle, and
 
 258 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 were driven by the public road to a spot near the 
 shore of the lake. One of the rubber boats was 
 unloaded, and Mr. Gault and Richard carried it 
 down to the bank. 
 
 The night was cloudy and dark. Green Island 
 was half a mile from the place where they proposed 
 to embark, and there was no danger that the muti- 
 neers would see or hear them. The boat was filled 
 with air, by the aid of a bellows, and placed in the 
 water. Richard requested Mr. Gault to lie down 
 in the boat, and, with a short paddle he had brought 
 for the purpose, he propelled the light craft toward 
 her destination. 
 
 The utmost care and quiet were necessary to pre- 
 vent the mutineers from gaining any knowledge of 
 the movement ; and when the boat was within a few 
 rods of the island, Richard laid aside his paddle 
 and listened. He could hear the Regulators talk- 
 
 ; 
 
 ing and laughing at some distance from the shore, 
 and he soon satisfied himself that no sentinels had 
 been detached to guard the approaches. With a 
 few strokes of his paddle he brought the boat along- 
 side the island.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 259 
 
 Richard seemed to be a master of strategy, and 
 conducted his movements with such skill and pru- 
 dence that he and Mr. Gault succeeded in effecting 
 a landing without disturbing the mutineers. 
 
 "Now, sir, we must lie down and crawl upon the 
 ground till we get within hearing distance of them/' 
 whispered Richard. 
 
 "I will follow you, Grant," replied the instructor. 
 
 "We must move very slowly." 
 
 "There is plenty of time." 
 
 Richard led the way, crawling like a snake upon 
 the grass, so slowly and so cautiously that not a 
 particle of noise seemed to be made. Near the 
 center of the island there was a clump of trees, 
 which had been dignified by the title of a grove. 
 The mutineers were seated upon the ground in this 
 place. Though the distance to the grove from the 
 place where Mr. Gault and Richard had landed 
 was only a few rods, more than half an hour was 
 consumed in reaching a spot which would be near 
 enough to enable them to hear what was said. 
 
 The deep gloom beneath a spreading oak af- 
 forded them a friendly shelter; and here they dis-
 
 260 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 posed of themselves to the best advantage to effect 
 the object in view. For half an hour they listened 
 to conversation on all topics. Various wild schemes 
 were proposed to bring the colonel to terms. Some 
 declared their intention to spend a week on the 
 island. 
 
 "We should freeze and starve," said another. 
 
 "No; Leslie I mean Kennedy said he would 
 supply us with food ; and we can make a tent of the 
 sails of the boat." 
 
 "Let us stick together, whatever we do," added 
 another. "If we could only have got Grant over 
 here, we should have fixed him." 
 
 "Thank you," said Richard to himself; and he 
 listened to this kind of talk for some time, begin- 
 ning to fear that he should not obtain the informa- 
 tion for which he came. 
 
 "Regulators, come to order!" said Nevers, at 
 last, much to the satisfaction of the listeners. "Are 
 all present Regulators?" 
 
 "They arc," replied Redman. 
 
 "Guards, to your stations." 
 
 Richard could not see where their stations were ;
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 261 
 
 and he hoped the line of their duty would not lead 
 them to the oak under which Mr. Gault and him- 
 self were seated. 
 
 "It is a long time since we have had a chance 
 to hold a regular meeting; and it may be a long 
 time before we are able to do so again. Perhaps 
 it was lucky that all except the Regulators backed 
 out," continued Nevers. "You all know the busi- 
 ness we have on our hands." 
 
 "We do," replied several. 
 
 "By a judicious use of 'watermelons' and 'sleep- 
 walking' we shall accomplish our purpose," con- 
 tinued Nevers. 
 
 "We must do it before the next election, my 
 chief," said Redman. 
 
 "It is of no use to attempt to whip him, or any- 
 thing of that sort," answered "my chief," which 
 seemed to be the official designation of the presiding 
 officer. 
 
 "I have a plan which I think will procure his 
 expulsion from the school." 
 
 "State it; and every Regulator will remember
 
 262 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 the penalty of disclosing one of the society's se- 
 crets." 
 
 "He shall be pounded till he is black and blue," 
 jaid the members in concert. 
 
 "And every Regulator shall despise him as man 
 and boy, to' the end of his life." 
 
 "That's so," responded the members. 
 
 "Go on, Redman," said the chief. 
 
 "Next Sunday night the sheds, near the grove, 
 will be set on fire. On Friday night Grant's French 
 exercise book will be taken from his desk. He 
 will fail in his lesson on Saturday, and the colonel 
 must punish him. This will make him mad. The 
 exercise book will be torn up, and pieces of it, 
 ^specially the cover with his name on it, will be 
 ound near the burned building. Masters, who is 
 on good terms with Grant, on a certain pretense, 
 known to him and me, will induce him to wait at 
 the shed until after dark, where he will be seen by 
 Mr. Gault, when he goes his rounds. A broken 
 bunch of matches will be found in Grant's closet, 
 where no fellow is allowed to keep matches. Other
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 suspicious circumstances will appear at the time, for 
 they are in charge of proper persons." 
 
 "You hear," said the chief. 
 
 "I don't like the plan," said one. 
 
 "Nor I," chimed in a dozen others. 
 
 "It is a mean thing," added the first objector. 
 
 "How many officers has the Society of Regula- 
 tors?" demanded the chief, sternly. 
 
 "One, whom all obey," replied the members. 
 
 "Who is he?" 
 
 "Nevers." 
 
 "I am chief, and I command that this be done," 
 said the chief. 
 
 Twenty or thirty of the members, as Richard 
 judged by the voices, protested against the scheme; 
 but the measure was ordered in spite of this oppo- 
 sition. 
 
 "Is there a traitor here?" demanded the chief. 
 
 "Not one," replied the members. 
 
 The chief then urged the necessity of using 
 strong measures. He pointed out the danger of 
 permitting Grant to remain in the school; and the 
 plan would insure his expulsion. But still the in*
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 tractable ones objected, and their names were or- 
 dered to be given. As they were announced Mr. 
 Gault, aided by faith rather than sight, wrote them 
 down on the back of some letters he had in his 
 pocket. The business was finished, and it was pro- 
 posed to establish a watch on the island for the 
 night. 
 
 "We must go," whispered Richard; and he 
 crawled off, followed by Mr. Gault. 
 
 They reached the water without being discov- 
 ered, and embarked in the rubber boat. 
 
 "If they place sentinels on the watch the col- 
 onel's plan will be defeated," said Mr. Gault. 
 
 "What is his plan?" 
 
 "To get all the boats away from them, and keep 
 them on the island till they have had enough of it." 
 
 "We must do it before the watch is set," added 
 Richard. 
 
 To accomplish this purpose he paddled the float 
 to the place where the boats were moored, and cast 
 them all adrift. The slight current of the lake 
 carried them slowly down the river, and the listen- 
 ers returned to the shore and reported what they
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 265 
 
 had done to the colonel. The whole party were 
 then driven round to the outlet of the lake, where 
 they secured the boats as they floated down. 
 
 The business of the night was done, and the 
 party retired to their several apartments.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 RICHARD ANNIHILATES THE REGULATORS, AND 
 THE STORY IS CONCLUDED 
 
 IT would have damaged the self-esteem of the 
 Regulators if they could have seen how little notice 
 was taken of their absence at the Institute on the 
 day following the development of the mutiny. 
 Everything went on as usual, and the instructors 
 did not even allude to the rebels or the rebellion. 
 It seemed to be the policy of the principal to main- 
 tain a "masterly inactivity" in regard to them. 
 
 Perhaps Colonel Brockridge was not so indiffer- 
 ent as he appeared to be. He had stationed men 
 on both sides of the lake to prevent any communi- 
 cation between the mutineers and persons on the 
 shore. At noon it was reported that a boy by the 
 name of Leslie, who lived in Tunbrook, and who 
 had been expelled from the Institute, had attempted 
 
 266
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 267 
 
 to visit the island. Richard was curious to know 
 who Leslie was, for he had heard the name men- 
 tioned by the Regulators. 
 
 The first day of November was very mild and 
 pleasant. It was one of the sweet days of the In- 
 dian summer, and the rebels on Green Island were 
 highly favored by this circumstance. On the sec- 
 ond day the wind changed, and it blew clear and 
 cold from the northwest. Just before sunset a 
 white flag was seen upon a pole, near the landing 
 place on the island. Colonel Brockridge was in- 
 formed of the fact, and the large sailboat was sent 
 off to relieve the rebels from their uncomfortable 
 situation. 
 
 Richard and two of the instructors were deputed 
 to visit the island, and ascertain the import of the 
 "flag of truce." The teachers were not boatmen, 
 and our hero was the only person available as a 
 navigator; and he was too deeply interested in the 
 fate of the Regulators to be averse to the visit. 
 
 On arriving at the island the rebels were found 
 to be in a very deplorable condition. They had 
 eaten nothing since dinner on the preceding day,
 
 268 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 and were shivering with cold. Mr. Gault calmly 
 inquired what they wanted. 
 
 "We want to return," replied Nevers, whose 
 teeth chattered as he spoke. 
 
 "Step into the boat, then." 
 
 But the boat would not carry them all, and it 
 was necessary to make two trips to convey the entire 
 party. On the passage Richard attended closely 
 to his duty, and did not speak a word to the rebels. 
 The two instructors were as taciturn as the boat- 
 man. 
 
 The party seemed to be astonished that their re- 
 turn created no sensation. No restraint was placed 
 upon them, and when they landed each went where 
 he chose, but most of them found their way to the 
 warm room of the Institute. 
 
 "Have you had a pleasant time, Nevers?" asked 
 the colonel when he met the chief of the Regulators. 
 
 "Not very, sir," replied Nevers, with a ghastly 
 smile. 
 
 This was all the allusion that was made to the 
 affair. Provisions disappeared with astonishing 
 rapidity at the supper table that night. The Regu-
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 269 
 
 lators looked very tame and "chap fallen" for a day 
 or two; and Nevers condescended to inform Rich- 
 ard that the whole thing was a bad failure. 
 
 Colonel Brockridge had requested Mr. Gault 
 and Richard to be entirely silent in regard to what 
 had transpired while they were upon the island. 
 He did not explain his purpose to Richard, but his 
 injunction was faithfully observed. 
 
 The Regulators, even to Nevers and Redman, 
 were very cordial and considerate toward their in- 
 tended victim, and Richard believed they had aban- 
 doned their wicked purpose, till, on Saturday morn- 
 ing, he missed his French exercise book. With- 
 out it he could not recite his lesson, and he was 
 checked for the failure, and reported to Colonel 
 Brockridge. The principal sent for him, and every 
 boy in school supposed he was under censure for the 
 deficiency. 
 
 On Sunday night, when the boys were permitted 
 to walk, Masters told Richard that Bailey wished 
 to see him on particular business near the Grove 
 shed, ^s the building was called. Richard prom- 
 ised t. et him at the place assigned. He waited
 
 270 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 there some time, but as Bailey did not come, he re- 
 turned to the parlor of the Institute. He met 
 Bailey here, and asked if he wished to see him. 
 
 "Yes; I wanted to show you something in the 
 shed, but it will do just as well in the morning," 
 replied Bailey, somewhat to the astonishment of 
 Richard, who, of course, understood what all these 
 things were for. 
 
 "What was it?" asked the intended victim. 
 
 "It was a piece of your exercise book; and I 
 didn't know but the piece might enable you to find 
 the whole." 
 
 While they were talking the alarm of fire was 
 given; but before they could reach the spot some 
 ready hands had extinguished the flames. In ac- 
 cordance with the programme laid down upon the 
 island, pieces of Richard's exercise book, some of 
 them half burned, were found in and near the shed. 
 Several cards of matches, and half the printed 
 paper that had enclosed the original bunch, were 
 also picked up near the building which had been de- 
 voted to destruction. 
 
 An investigation was immediately commenced.
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 271 
 
 The boys were ordered to the school room. The 
 pieces of Richard's exercise book were examined. 
 A dozen boys had seen its owner standing near the 
 shed before the fire originated. The teachers were 
 sent to examine the closets for further evidence. 
 Not only were several cards of matches found in 
 Richard's closet, but also part of the printed en- 
 velope that had enclosed them. This piece of 
 paper was a portion of the wrapper, of which the 
 other part had been found in the shed. 
 
 These facts were duly announced to the boys, and 
 it seemed as clear as noonday that Richard Grant 
 was the incendiary. He was ordered to report 
 forthwith at the office, and the boys were dismissed 
 for the night. 
 
 "We have fixed him this time," said Nevers, in 
 a whisper, as he and Redman left the room. 
 
 "He is under arrest, and to-morrow he will be 
 sent home in disgrace," replied Redman, rubbing 
 his hands. "Nevers, you will be the next captain 
 of Company D. 
 
 "We have broken the fellows' idol, at any rate.
 
 272 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 Grant will spend the night in the guard house," 
 added Nevers. 
 
 Nevers was slightly mistaken; for Richard, 
 though he did not appear in Barrack B that night, 
 occupied the guest chamber of Colonel Brock- 
 ridge's private residence. His friends, especially 
 Bailey, were gloomy and sad. The more luke- 
 warm ones were sure, and always had been, that 
 Grant was a bad boy. 
 
 On Monday morning, when the boys had assem- 
 bled in the school room, Colonel Brockridge ap- 
 peared, followed by Richard. The students under- 
 stood that the incendiary case was to be settled, and 
 a breathless silence pervaded the hall. 
 
 "Grant stands before you accused of a very grave 
 offense," the principal began. "We cannot permit 
 a boy who sets fire to a building to remain in the 
 Institute. If guilty, he must be expelled. But 
 Grant assures me this is a conspiracy to injure him. 
 He declares that there is a secret organization in 
 the Institute called the Regulators, who have deter- 
 mined to drive him away from the school. Some 
 of us have heard of such an institution before, but
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 its existence has never been clearly proved. Red- 
 man, do you know anything of such an associa- 
 tion?" 
 
 "I never heard of it before, sir," replied Red- 
 man. 
 
 "Do you, Nevers?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 "Grant charges you both with being connected 
 with the Regulators." 
 
 "Let him prove it," said Nevers, in defiant tones. 
 
 "Who is Dobbin?" asked the principal. 
 
 "I never heard the name before," answered 
 Nevers. "I think it is very hard to be accused 
 without evidence. I hope you will make Grant 
 prove what he says, sir." 
 
 "I will, my chief," said Richard, at a nod from 
 the colonel; and, without giving the source of his 
 information, he told all he knew about the Regu- 
 lators. 
 
 "How many officers have the Regulators?" 
 asked Mr. Gault, rising from his chair at the 
 farther end of the room.
 
 274 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 " 'One, whom all obey,' " replied Richard, re- 
 peating what he had heard on the island. 
 
 "Who is he?" 
 
 " 'Nevers.' " 
 
 "Are there traitors among us?" continued Mr. 
 Gault. 
 
 " 'Not a traitor.' " 
 
 "What shall be done to him who discloses the 
 secrets of the Regulators?" asked the teacher. 
 
 " 'He shall be pounded till he is black and blue, 
 and, as man and boy, be despised till the end of 
 his life,' " replied Richard, repeating the words of 
 the Regulators as nearly as he could remember 
 them. 
 
 "What do you think of this, Nevers?" asked the 
 colonel. 
 
 "I don't know what it all means, sir," answered 
 he, with a well-counterfeited look of astonishment. 
 
 There were a great many pale faces, beating 
 hearts, and quivering lips in the seats, for it was 
 certain that the daylight had been shining in upon 
 the dark doings of the Regulators. Who was the 
 traitor who had betrayed the secrets of the fra-
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 275 
 
 ternity? Confusion and trembling overwhelmed 
 the Regulators. 
 
 "Before we proceed any farther," continued the 
 principal, "if there are any of this secret band pres- 
 ent who wish to acknowledge their guilt, and are 
 willing to be forgiven, they may stand." 
 
 The silence was intense and deep. Nevers and 
 Redman did not move a muscle, but some of the 
 mutineers glanced at each other, and seemed to be 
 in doubt. 
 
 "Now is the only time for confession," added 
 the colonel. 
 
 Half a dozen boys rose ; then one after another 
 followed their example, till it seemed as if the 
 whole band intended to absolve themselves from 
 their vows. Those who rose were ordered to the 
 rear of the room. Only ten of the band decided to 
 abide the issue. They were called out by name. 
 
 "Here are the rest of the Regulators," said the 
 colonel, when the obdurate ones had taken their 
 places upon the platform. 
 
 Mr. Gault told his story, and Richard told his, 
 The evidence was complete and overwhelming.
 
 276 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 Two of the teachers had been concealed in the shed, 
 and had seen Redman set it on fire, and scatter the 
 pieces of the exercise book in the vicinity. Another 
 had seen Masters place the matches in Richard's 
 closet. The colonel, knowing the details of the 
 plot beforehand, had arranged everything so as to 
 insure the conviction of the conspirators. 
 
 "Boys," said Colonel Brockridge, "I am happy 
 to inform you that Grant is entirely innocent." 
 
 Those in their seats received this announcement 
 with a storm of applause. 
 
 "I knew he was innocent from the beginning." 
 
 Another burst of applause. 
 
 The principal detailed with great minuteness the 
 particulars of the conspiracy, with which our read- 
 ers are already familiar. The ten Regulators were 
 expelled at once, and sent away by the next train 
 that left Tunbrook. The whole forenoon was oc- 
 cupied in disposing of the matter; but when the 
 boys were sent out there was no end to the cheering 
 for Richard Grant. 
 
 It was plain that Nevers and Redman were the 
 head and front of the Regulators. They were the
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 877 
 
 authors of the association, and when they had gone 
 the organization died a natural death. Leslie was 
 Kennedy, as Nevers was Dobbin. All the secrets 
 and signs were bandied about and laughed at among 
 the boys. Those of the band who remained were 
 punished by being deprived of various privileges; 
 but they behaved themselves afterward with com- 
 mendable propriety. One of them ventured to say 
 "watermelons" one day, when he was angry with 
 Richard, but a hundred boys hissed him for it. 
 
 Three of the expelled Regulators were eventu- 
 ally restored, but the lesson they had learned was 
 all-sufficient. 
 
 Richard's victory was complete; and the events 
 we have related rendered him a greater favorite 
 than before. At the spring election he was chosen 
 captain of Company D, and was regarded as the 
 best officer in the line. 
 
 Richard's victory over himself was as complete 
 as that over the Regulators. That good resolution, 
 kept through trial and temptation, eventually re- 
 formed his life and character. During the spring
 
 278 IX SCHOOL AND OUT 
 
 vacation he spent a week at home, and rejoiced the 
 hearts of Bertha and his father by the evidences of 
 his reformation. Ben wept for joy, and Noddy 
 Newman "couldn't tell, for the life of him, what 
 had come over Dick." 
 
 Richard continued two years longer at Tun- 
 brook, and maintained the high character he had 
 won to the last. He was a favorite with the boys 
 and with the teachers. Colonel Brockridge pointed 
 with pride to Major Grant which was the title 
 of our hero during the last year of his residence 
 at Tunbrook as one of the brightest ornaments 
 of his school, and as one of the best fruits of his 
 system of education. 
 
 And now we must take leave of Richard Grant; 
 and we do so with greater regret than we should 
 have done when his reputation was stained by 
 "watermelons" and "sleep-walking." 
 
 Our hero is still true to himself. As we use 
 fictitious names, our sympathizing readers will not 
 be able to recognize Colonel Richard Grant, com- 
 manding a brigade in the Army of the Potomac, 
 at the present time ; but, true to his country in her
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT 279 
 
 hour of peril, he has served with that gallant band 
 of brave men from the commencement of the war. 
 If my young friends would conquer others; if 
 they would be chosen of men to reign in the hearts 
 of their fellow-beings, and thus guide the destinies 
 of men and nations ; if they would be chosen of God 
 to do His work in earth and heaven they must 
 first conquer themselves. 
 
 THE END
 
 /\. L. Burt's Catalogue of Books for 
 Young People by Popular Writers, 52* 
 58 Duane Street, New York >< x vs 
 
 BOOKS FOR BOYS. 
 
 Joe's Luck: A Boy's Adventures in California. B$ 
 
 HORATIO ALGER, JR. ISmo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 The story is chock fall of stirring incidents, while the amusing situ- 
 ations are furnished by Joshua Bickford, from Pumpkin Hollow, and the 
 feliow who modestly styles himself the "Rip-tail Boarer, from Pike Co., 
 Missouri." Mr. Alger never writes a poor book, and "Joe's Luck" is cer- 
 tainly one of his best. 
 
 Tom the Bootblack; or, The Eoad to Success. By 
 
 HORATIO ALOES, JR. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 A bright, enterprising lad was Tom the Bootblack. He was not at all 
 ashamed of his bumble calling, though always on the lookout to better 
 himself. The lad started for Cincinnati to look up bis heritage. Mr. 
 Grey, th* uncle, did not hesitate to employ a ruffian to kill the lad. The 
 plan failed, and Gilbert Grey, once Tom the bootblack, came into a com- 
 fortable fortune. This is one of Mr. Alger's best stories. 
 
 Dan the Newsboy. By HOEATIO ALGEB, JB. 12iao, 
 
 cloth, Illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 Dan Mordannt and his mother live in a poor tenement, and the lad la 
 pluckily trying to make ends meet by selling papers in the streets of New 
 York. A little heiress of six years is confided to the care of the Mor- 
 daunts. The child is kidnapped and Dan tracks the child to the house 
 where she is hidden, and rescues her. The wealthy aunt of the little 
 heiress Is so delighted with Dan's courage and many good qualities 
 that she adopts him as her heir. 
 
 Tony the Hero: A Brave Boy's Adventure with a 
 
 Tramp. By HORATIO ALGER, JR. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 Tony, a sturdy bright-eyed boy of fourteen, Is under the control of 
 Rudolph Bugg, a thorough rascal. After much abase Tony runs away 
 and gets a job as stable boy in a country hotel. Tony is heir to a 
 large estate. Budolph for a consideration hunts up Tony and throw* 
 him down a deep well. Of course Tony escapes from the fate provided 
 (or him, and by a brave act, a rich friend secures his rights and Tony 
 U prosperous. A very entertaining book. 
 
 The Errand Boy; or, How Phil Brent Won Success. 
 
 Ely HORATIO ALOKR, JR. 12mo, cloth illustrated, price $1.60. 
 
 The career of "The Errand Boy" embraces the city adventures of a 
 mart country lad. Philip was brought up by a kind-hearted innkeeper 
 named Brent. The death of Mrs. Brent paved the way for the hero's 
 ubsequent troubles. A retired merchant In New York secures him the 
 situation of errand boy, and thereafter stands as his friend. 
 
 Tom Temple's Career. By HOEATIO ALGER, JR. 12mo, 
 
 cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 Tom Temple is a bright, self-reliant lad. He leaves Plympton village 
 to seek work In New York, whence he undertakes an important mission 
 to California. Borne trf his adventures In the far west are so startling that 
 the reader wOT aeffBceV cloap the. book. nnvJl the last page shall have been 
 reached. The tale fig WTttten_in M>. Alger's most fascinating style. 
 
 Fur sale by aH booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt it price by tlM 
 r, A. L. BTTRT, 62-68 Duane Street. Jfcv York.
 
 2 A. L. BUBT/S BOOKS FOB TOUNG PEOPLE. 
 
 BOOKS FOR BOYS. 
 
 Frank Fowler, the Cash Boy. By HORATIO ALGER, JB. 
 
 I2mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 Frank Fowler, a poor boy. bravely determines to make a living (or 
 himself and his foster-sister Grace. Going to New York be obtains a 
 situation aa cash boy in a dry goods store. He renders a service to a 
 wealthy old gentleman who takes a fancy to the lad, and thereafter 
 helps the lad to gain success and fortune. 
 
 Tom Thatcher's Fortune. By HORATIO ALGER, JR. 
 
 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 Tom Thatcher is a brave, ambitions, unselfish boy. He supports hit 
 mother and sister on meagre wages earned as a shoe-pegger in John 
 Simpson's factory. Tom is discharged from the factory and starts over- 
 land for California. He meets with many adventures. The story is told 
 In a way which has made Mr. Alger'a name a household word in so many 
 homes. 
 
 The Train Boy. By HORATIO ALGER, JR. 12mo, 
 
 cloth, Illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 Paul Palmer was a wide-awake boy of sixteen who supported his mother 
 and sister by selling books and papers on the Chicago and Milwaukee 
 Railroad. He detects a young man in the act of picking the pocket of a 
 young lady. In a railway accident many passengers are killed, but Panl 
 Is fortunate enough to assist a Chicago merchant, who out of gratitude 
 takes him into his employ. Paul succeeds with tact and judgment and 
 is well started ou the road to business prominence. 
 
 Mark Mason's Victory. The Trials and Triumphs of 
 
 a Telegraph Boy. By HORATIO ALGER, JR. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 
 
 $1.00. 
 
 Mark Mason, the telegraph boy, was a sturdy, honest lad, who pluckily 
 won his way to success by his honest manly efforts under many diflf- 
 cultios. This story will please the very large class of boys who regard 
 'Mr. Alger as a favorite author. 
 
 A Deht of Honor. The Story of Gerald Lane's Success 
 
 In the Far West. By HORATIO ALGER, JR. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 
 
 $1.00. 
 
 The story of Gerald Lane and the account of the many trials and dis- 
 appointments which he passed through befoi he attained success, will 
 Interest all boys who have read the previous stories of this delightful 
 author. 
 
 Ben Bruce. Scenes in the Life of a Bowery Newshoy. 
 
 By HORATIO AixiiR, JR. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 Ben Bruce was ft brave, manly, generous boy. The story of bis efforts, 
 and many seeming failures and disappointments, and his final success, are 
 most interesting to all readers. The tale is written In Mr. Alger'a 
 most fascinating style. 
 
 The Castaways; or, On the Florida Eeefs. By JAMES 
 
 OTIS. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 This tale smacks of the salt sea. From the moment that the Sea 
 Queen leaves lower New York bay till the breeze leaves her becalmed off 
 the coast of Florida, one can almost hear the whistle of the wind 
 through her rigging, the creak of her straining cordage as she heels to 
 the lepward. The adventures of Ben Clark, the hero of the rtorr and 
 Jake the cook, cannot fail to charm the reader. As a writer for young 
 pwplo Mr. Otis is a prime favorite. 
 
 For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of prlc* fay tit* 
 *, TV BTTBT. M-W Dna&e Street, Sew York,
 
 A. L. HURT'S BOOKS FOE YOUNQ PEOPLE. 3 
 
 BOOKS FOR BOYS. 
 
 Wrecked on Spider Island; or, How Ned Rogers Fonnd 
 
 the Treasure. By JAMES OTIS. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, pi ice $1.00. 
 
 Ned Rogers, a "down-east" plucky lad ships as cabin boy to ears 
 livelihood. Ned Is marooned on Spider Island, and while there dis- 
 covers a wreck submerged In the sand, and finds a considerable amount 
 of treasure. The capture of the treasure and the Incidents at the 
 voyage serve to make as entertaining a story of sea-life as the most 
 captious boy could desire. 
 
 The Search for the Silver City : A Tale of Adventure in 
 
 Yucatan. By JAMES OTIS. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 Two lads, Teddy Wright and Neal Emery, embark on the steam 
 yacht Day Dream for a cruise to the tropics. The yacht is destroyed 
 by fire, and then the boat is cast upon the coast of Yucatan. They 
 hear of the wonderful Silver City, of the Chan Santa Cruz Indiana, 
 and with the help of a faithful Indian ally carry off a number of the* 
 golden images from the temples. Pursued with relentless visor at last 
 their escape is effected in an astonishing manner. The story is so 
 full of exciting incidents that the reader is quite carried away with 
 the novelty and realism of the narrative. 
 
 A Runaway Brig; or, An Accidental Cruise. By 
 
 JAMES OTIS. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 This is a sea tale, and the reader can look out upon the wide shimmer* 
 ing sea as It flashes back the sunlight, and imagine himself afloat with 
 Harry Vandyne, Walter Morse, Jim Libby and that old shell-back, Bob 
 Brace, on the brig Bouita. The boys discover a mysterious document 
 which enables them to find a buried treasure. They are stranded on 
 an island and at last are rescued with the treasure. The boys are sura 
 to be fascinated with this entertaining story. 
 
 The Treasure Finders: A Boy's Adventures in 
 
 Nicaragua. By JAMES OTIS. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 Roy and Dean Coloney, with their guide Tongla, leave their father's 
 indigo plantation to visit the wonderful ruins of an ancient city. The 
 boys eagerly explore the temples of an extinct race and discover three 
 golden images cunningly hidden away. They escape with the greatest 
 difficulty. Eventually they reach safety with their golden prizes. We 
 doubt if there ever was written a more entertaining story than "The 
 Treasure Finders." 
 
 Jack, the Hunchback. A Story of the Coast of Maine. 
 
 By JAMES OTIS. Price $1.00. 
 
 This is the story of a little hunchback who lived on Cape Elizabeth, 
 on the coast of Maine. His trials and successes are most interesting. 
 From first to last nothing stays the Interest of the narrative. It bean us 
 along as on a stream whose current varies In direction, hot never loses 
 its force. 
 
 With Washington at Monmouth: A Story of Three 
 
 Three Philadelphia lads assist the American spies and make regular 
 
 SJ^nSSraf V t SUS ^ Va J ley P ? rKe ln the W1 " tcr WMte t5 Brtfi" 
 
 Bk'm?,^ * ty ' JK sto ,7 abouu<Js wlth Pictures of Colonial lii ' 
 
 h ,?*\ "S? the glimpses of Washington's soldiers which ai-o 
 
 rh, *? r^'iiS* work has not been nas ty done, or without con- 
 
 siderable study. The story Is wholesome and patriotic to tone, as aiv 
 
 u 01 Mr. utis works. 
 
 >,M4 r , 8ale by "11 booksellers, or ^^ postpaid on receipt of prtc> .-""" 
 publisher, A. L. BUST. 62-68 Duane Street, New York.
 
 A. L. HURT'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 
 
 BOOKS FOR BOYS. 
 
 With Lafayette at Yorktown: A Story of How Two 
 
 Boys Joined the Continental Army. By JAMES OTIS. 12mo. ornamental 
 
 cloth, olivine edges, illustrated, price $1.50. 
 
 Two lads from Portmtuth, N. H., attempt to enlist In the Colonial 
 Army, and are given employment as spies. There is no lack of exciting 
 Incidents which the youthful reader craves, but it is healthful excite- 
 ment brimming with facts which every boy should be familiar with, 
 and while the reader Is following the adventures of Ben Jaffrays and 
 Ned Allen be is acquiring a fund of historical lore which will remain 
 In his memory long after that which he has r"morized from text- 
 books has been forgotten. 
 
 At the Siege of Havana. Being the Experiences of 
 
 Three Boys Serving under Israel Putnam in 1762. By JAMES OTIS. 12mo, 
 
 ornamental cloth, olivine edges, illustrated, price $1. 50. 
 "At the Siege of Havana" deals w|th that portion of the island's 
 history when the English king captured the capital, thanks to the 
 assistance given by the troops from New England, led In part by Col. 
 Israel Putnam. 
 
 The principal characters are Darius Lunt, the lad who, represented as 
 telling the story, and his comrades, Robert Clement and Nicholas 
 Vallet. Colonel Putnam, also figures to considerable extent, necessarily, 
 In the tale, and the whole forms one of the most readable stories founded on 
 historical facts. 
 
 The Defense of Fort Henry. A Story of Wheeling 
 
 Creek in 1777. By JAMES Ons. 12mo, ornamental cloth, olivine edges, 
 
 illustrated, price $1.50,' 
 
 Nowhere In the history of our country can be found more heroic or 
 thrilling incidents than in the story of those brave men and women 
 Who founded the settlement of Wheeling In the Colony of Virginia. The 
 recital of what Elizabeth Zane did is in itself as heroic a story as can 
 be imagined. The wondrous bravery displayed by Major McCnlloch 
 and his gallant comrades, the sufferings of the colonists and their sacrifice 
 of blood and life, stir the blood of old as well as young readers. 
 
 The Capture of the Laughing Mary. A Story of Three 
 
 New York Boys in 1776. By JAMES OTIS. 12mo, ornamental cloth, olivine 
 
 edfces, price $1.50. 
 
 "During the British occupancy of New York, at the outbreak of the 
 Revolution, a Yankee lad hears of the plot to take General Washington's 
 person, and calls in two companions to assist the patriot cause. They 
 GO some astonishing things, and. Incidentally, lay tha way for an 
 American navy later, by the exploit which gives Its name to the 
 work. Mr. Otis' books are too well known to require any particular 
 commendation to the young. " Evening Post. 
 
 With Warren at Bunker Hill. A Story of the Siege of 
 
 Boston. By JAMBS Ons. 12mo, ornametnal cloth, olivine edges, illus- 
 
 trated, price 81.50. v 4/ V7jJ 
 
 "This Is a tale of the siege of Boston, which opens on the day after 
 
 the doings at Lexington and Concord, with a description of home life 
 
 In Boston, introduces the reader to the British camp at Charlestown, 
 
 shows Gen. Warren at home, describes what a boy thought of the 
 
 buttle of Bunker Hill, and closes with the raising of the siege. The 
 
 three heroes, George Weutworth, Ben Scarlett and an old ropemaker, 
 
 incur the enmity of a yonng Tory, who causes them many adventures 
 
 the boys will like to read." Detroit Free Press. 
 
 For sale by all booutseTlefB, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by th 
 publisher, A. L. BUST. M-WJJuane Sxreot. New York.
 
 liYsToo&jTO'i 1 >;\ DEC 16 1991 
 
 23 
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