CHAPTER XII.

A NEW MISSION FOR THE BEECH-HILL SCHOOL.

It was within two weeks of the time for the opening of the Beech-Hill Industrial School. Only one-half of the students for the coming year had been engaged, and this was the circumstance which had given the principal so much thought during the summer. It was not that there was a lack of applicants; for, while he could accept only sixteen in addition to the number which remained over, he had more than a hundred applications for admission.

The subject had almost elevated itself to a question of political economy in the mind of the old shipmaster. He found that more than one-half of his pupils in the past had been the sons of wealthy or well-to-do people, who were abundantly able to pay for the tuition of their sons, including all the branches pursued in his school. He had come to the conclusion that he could make a better use of his money than in educating the children of those who were able to pay for it. The institution was no longer an experiment, and the most important question was in regard to those who should be selected to receive its benefits.

Captain Gildrock had come to feel that he ought to provide for those who were not able to provide for themselves. He could render a greater service to the community in which he lived, by fitting for usefulness those who were neglected by their parents, or who could not be controlled by them, than by instructing those who needed no assistance. He had demonstrated the problem he had undertaken to solve, and now he felt that he ought to make the school as serviceable as possible to the State.

With this question in his mind he had looked over the list of applicants, with the description of each. Against nearly the whole of the questions in the printed form of application, which related to the financial ability of the parents, it was written that they were wealthy, or that they were well off. With his new views of duty, he had been able to select only four whom he was willing to accept. He would not take pupils at a price, and those who were able to pay for the education they desired for their sons could establish such a school as that at Beech Hill.

The taking of the Goldwing, and the capture of Tom Topover and his gang, intensified his reflections over the problem. If he could reform and reconstruct such bruisers, and make them capable of taking care of themselves, as well as become useful members of society, he would render a more acceptable service to the community than he could by instructing boys whose parents were able to pay their tuition-bills.

The event narrated in this story enabled him to come to a conclusion. He knew all about the Topovers. They had been a nuisance in the town for years, and their parents could do nothing with them. They would not work, though their parents needed the little they could earn. They were very irregular at school when they pretended to go, and they had no correct views in regard to the rights of property. So far as he could inform himself, they had average ability, and were capable of being made into decent men, to say the least.

Of the original Topovers there were only four, though they had been recruited by two more as rough as themselves. These were the six who had been captured in the Goldwing; and they were now on the forecastle, in charge of Bates, while the six who had put out the fire were with the captain in his library. The principal had considered what effect the admission to the school of such fellows as Tom Topover, Kidd Digfield, and the others would have upon the _morale_ and the discipline of the institution. If he could not reform them, he could keep them under a sharp discipline, and they would have little power to contaminate others.

"Ashley Burton, I have finished my examination of this case; and I shall not prosecute you, as I intended at first," said the principal, opening the subject of the interview.

"Thank you, sir!" exclaimed Sam Spottwood.

The others said as much as this, and they were certainly very grateful to the captain for his indulgence.

"I took out the picnic-party for the purpose of ascertaining the facts. The gentleman in charge of the party spoke very well of you, and fully confirmed the statement you made to me. I think you are sincerely penitent for the wrong you have done. If you had left the Goldwing at the wharf when you went ashore first, I should have found no fault with you for taking her, I should say that you had done just right; though it was constructively and technically wrong for you to unmoor the boat, even if you had lost your dinner and your supper. I am not a close constructionist."

"You are very kind, sir," added Sam, who was more demonstrative than the others.

"I had started in my buggy to intercept you as you came home from the picnic. On my way, there was an alarm of fire; and I soon heard that the house of the Widow Sankland had been burned, and one of the children had lost its life. This was a mistake, for I met the engine returning from the fire. I went to see Captain Linder, who is the foreman of the company; and he spoke in the highest terms of your conduct, and the good judgment you used in managing the fire. No doubt you saved the life of the child, and the house from total destruction."

"Ash Burton was the leader, and told us what to do," interposed Sam Spottwood.

"You all did well, and you are worthy of praise. What you did at the fire is not an offset for the wrong you did on the lake; for a good deed will not balance an evil one, though it may modify our judgment of the evil-doer. I have nothing more to say to you now, and I am confident you will not again meddle with any property of the institution."

"We will not, sir," replied Ash, as he took the dozen half-dollars from his pocket, and tendered them to the principal. "These do not belong to me, or to any of us. They were earned with Dory's boat."

"The money certainly does not belong to you; and, obtained as it was, I am not willing that you should retain and enjoy it," replied the principal. "We do not let the boats under any circumstances, and we do not need any money they might earn. I have spoken to Dory about the matter, and he left it entirely to me. I have decided what shall be done with it. It shall be given to the Widow Sankland, who needs it more than you or your parents, though they may not be very well off. You may carry the money to her to-night, Ashley, if you are willing to do so."

"Perfectly willing, sir; and I will go as soon as I have had my supper," replied Ash; and the party left the house with lighter hearts than they had entered it, for the terrible fear of prosecution no longer confronted them.

Captain Gildrock did not say a word in regard to the other culprits in taking the sloop, and the Burton party wondered if the principal intended to bring them up before the court. Hop Cabright was sure that he would not do so, for he would have served them all alike. Syl Peckman was confident that he did not mean to let them off as he had their party, for they had been captured on board of the sloop. Ash and Sam had no opinion, and said it was impossible to say what such a man as Captain Gildrock would do, for he was different from all the other men in Genverres.

They went to their suppers; and all the questions asked them by their parents related to the fire, and the child they had saved. Nothing was said about the Goldwing, and probably nothing was known about the scrape from which they had so happily escaped.

They met after supper, and walked over to the house they had saved from destruction. They found the Widow Sankland there with her two children. The one who had been burned was on the bed; but she was quite comfortable, for the doctor had prescribed the continuance of the cold water, which was renewed every few minutes. The farmer and his wife had been there, and done what they could to make the house habitable after the fire and water had done so much mischief.

The widow received the money which Ash presented to her, with many thanks. She had no money, for she had not received the pay for her day's work. She said she was very poor indeed, and it was only with the hardest struggle that she earned enough to feed her children, to say nothing of clothing them.

Mrs. Sankland explained that her daughter had lighted the lamp to go down cellar for some milk for the little one. She had dropped it on the floor, and the fluid had taken fire, from which her dress had caught when she tried to put it out.

"Have you seen any thing of Pelham to-day?" asked the widow. "He must have heard of the fire, and he ought to have come home. He could help a good deal if he only would. He could take care of the children while I am at work, but he won't even do that."

Sam Spottwood told her that Pell had been captured with the other Topovers; and Ash added the rest of the story, that they had been in the scrape.

"Something must be done with him, for I cannot do any thing with him. He won't mind me any more than if I wasn't his mother," said the widow, wiping the tears from her thin face.

"He will be at home soon, I should think," added Ash.

"It does not make much difference whether he comes or not: he does me no good, and I have to feed him. I wish something might be done with him, for he is a bad boy."

The boys departed much impressed by the confessions of the poor woman; and they wished they were rich, like Captain Gildrock, that they might help her. But Ash Burton was willing to go a point beyond wishing that he was rich, and he decided to apply to some of the wealthy people of the town for assistance in clothing and food for her. But the boys had not gone ten rods from the house before they met the carriage of the rich man of the Beech-Hill estate. Dory and his mother were with the captain; and, as he stopped his horses in front of the cottage, Dory took a large basket from the carriage. He carried it into the house, and then returned to take care of the horses while his uncle and his mother went in. They never heard of a case of distress within ten miles of their home without doing all they could to relieve it.

Mr. Sankland had been a laborer who worked on the farms in the vicinity. He was not a thrifty man, and he drank too much whiskey for his reliability. He had died less than a year before, leaving nothing at all; though his wife had saved enough from her own earnings to bury him. When she could get work, she did tolerably well, especially washing that she could take home with her. In summer there were people boarding in the town, and at the farmhouses in the vicinity, who gave her their work; but in winter it had been almost a starving time with her. In the spring an agency for a laundry had been established in the place, and Mrs. Sankland lost most of her customers.

Mrs. Dornwood presented her with the contents of the basket, which consisted mainly of meats and vegetables brought from the provision store, and groceries from another establishment. The poor woman was glad to get these things, and she soon told the history of her miseries. She repeated what she had said to the young firemen about her son, and it ended in the captain's asking her if she was willing to put the boy in his care. She was willing and glad to do so.