Chapter 19

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 principal was angry because he could not ascertain who had broken the rules of the school, and spitefully intended to punish the innocent with the guilty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"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 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 Redman.

"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 committee using all their eloquence and logic to induce Richard to change his mind; but thus far he remained firm and loyal to his good resolution. His arrival at the grove created a sensation, for it 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--himself in the highest and noblest sense. His determination 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 became. 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," replied Richard.

"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 another 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 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 Richard, stepping up to the speaker; and as he did so, his fists were involuntarily clinched.

"Watermelons!" replied Redman, vindictively.

"Watermelons!" added Nevers.

"Watermelons!" 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 beneath the weight of his strong arm.

Most of the boys looked at each other with astonishment, wondering what could be meant by "watermelons," and walking in his sleep. It was evident to Richard that only a few of his companions understood 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 virtue, 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 clinched 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 entirely 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," continued Nevers, "but we don't want to be hard upon you. Only about a dozen of us know any thing 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 watermelons or sleep-walking."

"I will not join you, whatever you say and whatever you do."

"Then you won't hear any thing 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 myself."

"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. Lest our readers should be equally in the dark, we will tell them, confidentially, that Sandy Brimblecom had done the mischief. A cousin of his, on his way to Tunbrook, had stopped a day in Whitestone. 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, perhaps 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.

"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 Redman, 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, fellows, 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 possession of every one of the boats, and were sailing up the lake towards 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 intended 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 lustre.