The Riverpark Rebellion, Page 3

  CHAPTER II.

  CHANGING THE RECORD.

  The fight was fierce but short.

  Harple entered the drill-hall from the stairway, stood for a moment interrified astonishment, and then pushed his way violently through thecrowd to the enraged combatants.

  "Stop this!" he cried, laying a firm hand on each wrestler; but in aninstant they had broken from his grasp, and fell, struggling, panting,and still fighting, to the floor.

  "Bright!" he called, kneeling above them, and trying to gain a newhold, "Bright, for goodness' sake!"

  The door from the dining-room was opened, and in the doorway was framedthe stalwart figure of Colonel Silsbee. He took in the situation at aglance, and strode hastily toward the combatants. The crowd separatedas if by magic to let him pass; but before he reached the strugglingfigures on the floor, they, too, had become aware of his presence, hadloosed their hold of each other, and had risen to their feet.

  They were a sorry sight. Their clothing was torn, their hairdishevelled, their faces bruised and bloody. For a moment there wasno sound in the room; the silence was appalling. Then Colonel Silsbeespoke,--

  "Boys, this is disgraceful! I hope never to witness a scene like thisin my school again. Lieutenant Brightly and Cadet Belcher, you willboth report at my office at half-past seven o'clock. Drummer, beat themess-call!"

  Belcher was led back to the faucet by his friends, and Brightly washurried up to his room by Harple, while the battalion fell in forsupper.

  "Charley, I've made a fool of myself, haven't I?" asked Brightly, whenthe door of their room was closed on them.

  "I'm afraid you have, Bright," was the reply. "I guess you've spoiledeverything now. You've lost your shoulder-straps without doubt."

  Harple took the pitcher and hurried down the hall for some warm waterwith which to bathe his friend's wounds. "I haven't much hope for youafter this," he said, returning. "You simply won't listen to advice."

  "Well, how could I help it, Charley?" Brightly stood in hisshirt-sleeves, waiting for the water. His wrath was rising again at theremembrance of Belcher's taunting words.

  "How could I help it?" he repeated. "A fellow would have to be morethan human to stand such abuse. It was simply impossible not to strikehim."

  "Well, there's no use talking about it; that part of it's over. Thenext chapter is what you've got to look out for now,--the one thatopens up at half-past seven. If I thought you'd take any advice at all,I'd counsel you, when you get in before Colonel Silsbee, to own up, sayyou are sorry, agree to abide squarely by your sentence, and then goto work and get back to your old place again."

  Harple bathed his chum's face and neck carefully, and dressed a slightwound on the cheek. Clean linen and a fresh coat restored Brightly toan appearance of respectability, and then the two hurried down to thesupper-room.

  At half-past seven o'clock the principal of Riverpark Academy sat inhis office, awaiting the appearance of the offenders. He was troubledand anxious,--not so much because two of his pupils had engaged in arough-and-tumble fight, as because the entire school seemed tremblingon the verge of disorder, of which he feared that this encounter wasthe first serious manifestation.

  For some weeks he had noticed this tendency toward mischief and towardrebellion against rules of the school, and it worried him. He had hadthe same experience in former years; but the warmth of the advancingseason and the excitement of out-door sports had heretofore served todissipate disorderly tendencies, and he could only hope that suchmight now be the case.

  Promptly at the hour named Belcher came into the office. A momentlater Brightly entered also. They stood respectfully, undergoing withapparent composure the sharp scrutiny of the principal.

  "Boys," said Colonel Silsbee at last, "I did not summon you here tohear excuses for your conduct. There can be no possible excuse forit. It is intended that this school shall be composed of soldiers andgentlemen, and they never descend to such encounters as yours has been.The instinct that impels one man in the heat of passion to strikeanother is a brutal instinct, and in my school it must be kept down. Iintend to subject each of you to severe punishment; but lest I shoulddo either of you an injustice, I desire to hear from you an account ofthe trouble, and of the causes which led to it. Belcher, you may giveme your statement."

  The lad addressed advanced a step and laid his hand on the table.

  "It began," he said, "this afternoon at drill. Lieutenant Brightly wasin command of our platoon. I wasn't able to do the wheelings properly;it wasn't my fault, either. But Brightly insulted me, and called mean idiot; and he wasn't satisfied with that, but he rushed at me andstruck me a blow with his sword. To-night, in the drill-hall, I askedhim why he did it. He answered me impertinently, and I called him abully. Then he struck me, and the fight began. You came in in time tosee the end of it."

  "If you had a grievance against Lieutenant Brightly, why did you notreport it at headquarters, that an examination might have been made andjustice done? Why did you take the matter into your own hands?"

  "Well, I--I thought I had a right to. Brede told me I had a right to,Captain Brede. He said an officer was no better than a private out ofranks. He said I ought to thrash Brightly for what he had done."

  A look of surprise and pain came upon Colonel Silsbee's face,--ofsurprise, that Belcher should thus try to lay the blame of his conducton another; of pain, that the ranking cadet-officer in his schoolshould have given such advice.

  "Captain Brede was greatly mistaken," he said quietly. "LieutenantBrightly, let us hear your account of this affair."

  "Belcher has given a pretty correct version of it," responded Brightly,"except that of course he has colored the facts to make in his favor. Ihave nothing further to say."

  "Very well," said Colonel Silsbee. "I still see no excuse for either ofyou. Belcher, you may go. Brightly, you will remain for a moment."

  When the door had closed behind Belcher, the principal motioned theother lad to a chair.

  "Brightly," he said, and there was kindness in his face and voice,"I have had it in mind for some time to have a little talk with you,and the occurrence of to-night seems now to have made it a necessity.You have not, of late, been keeping up to your usual standard in anydepartment; your manner also has been indicative of dissatisfactionand carelessness. I am sorry for this, because I had grown accustomedto thinking of you as one of my first boys. Where does the fault lie,Brightly? Is it with us, or is it with you?"

  The lad hesitated a moment before replying. Finally he said, "I didn'tthink my standing and conduct here were appreciated. I tried to do verywell, but it seemed to me that my efforts met with punishment ratherthan with reward. Of course that discouraged me, and lately I haven'ttried very hard to keep up."

  "Do you wish me to understand that you were disappointed in the rankassigned to you in the battalion?"

  "Well, I thought I deserved to rank higher than first lieutenant."

  "I see. I can understand your feeling. But if a mistake was made, themistake and the fault were ours, not yours. Moreover, there was noslight put upon you. You were given a very honorable position; it wasyour duty as a soldier to acquiesce in our judgment, and to acceptthe situation without question. To give you my reasons for making theappointments that I did, while you are in your present state of mind,would be subversive of discipline.

  "I regret this affair of to-night more than you do,--very much more. Ishould be glad to relieve you of its consequences if it were possible,not only for your own sake, but for your mother's as well; but it isnot possible; my duty to you and to the school forbids it.

  "I shall be obliged to suspend you from your office for a time; notlong, I hope. It is my wish, also, that your mother may not learn ofyour disgrace until she can be informed also of your reformation andrestoration."

  "I should prefer that myself. I think her feelings have been alreadysufficiently hurt in learning that I was not considered worthy of thepromotion to which she believed, with me, that I was entitled." />
  There was no repentance manifest in Brightly's voice; the spiritindicated by it was still unyielding.

  Colonel Silsbee looked up sharply at the boy. "Has your mother made acomplaint to you on account of the appointment?" he asked.

  "N--no, I can't say that she has. I don't think _she_ would do me aninjustice like that."

  The emphasis was too plain to be misunderstood. The stern look cameback into the principal's face.

  "You may go now," he said. "And you may consider yourself suspendedfrom office until such time as an order to that effect shall bepublished."

  Brightly bowed, and left the room somewhat haughtily. His punishmentwas to be greater than he had anticipated. He had expected to receivediscredit marks enough to cut deeply into his standing in deportment;but he had not thought that he should be reduced to the ranks, evenfor a short time. He felt that his sentence was unnecessarily severe;that it was unjust and uncalled for. It bruised his pride, it awakenedanimosity in his mind, and roused rebellion in his heart.

  It was not long after Brightly had taken leave of the principal thatBrede was also summoned to the office. He arose, walked across theschoolroom with his accustomed swagger, and passed in through theoffice-door with the usual supercilious smile upon his lips. The entireschool wondered what he had been summoned for, but only Belcher andBrightly guessed aright. They knew instinctively that his visit had todo with Belcher's awkward excuse for his own fault.

  When Brede returned to the schoolroom some fifteen minutes later,he had lost something of his swagger; the curl on his lips was lesspronounced, and his face was more than usually pale. Every one whosaw him knew that his interview with Colonel Silsbee had not been apleasant one.

  Moreover, from that night on he ignored both Brightly and Belcher; themen in the ranks noticed that he grew more quick-tempered and morose;the principal and teachers in the school found that he became lesscareful of his standing.

  On the evening following the fight between Brightly and Belcher thefollowing order was published at retreat:--

  HEADQUARTERS, RIVERPARK ACADEMY.

  _April 30, 186-._

  SPECIAL ORDER, NO. 15.

  _Paragraph I._--Cadet Lieutenant Horace E. Brightly, for conduct unbecoming an officer, is hereby suspended from the office of first lieutenant and adjutant of the battalion, for a period of two weeks, the suspension to date from the 29th inst.

  _Paragraph II._--Sergeant Major J. R. Finkelton will act as adjutant of the battalion during the period of Lieutenant Brightly's suspension, and all papers pertaining to said office of adjutant will be turned over to him at once.

  By order of the Principal,

  Col. JONAS SILSBEE.

  Brightly promptly gave to the acting adjutant all papers pertainingto the office, which were principally tables showing the merits anddemerits credited to each student in the line of conduct.

  The system of marking deportment at Riverpark was, in many respects, anexcellent one. Every evening, at retreat, one of the older cadets wasappointed to act as officer of the day for the following twenty-fourhours. It was his duty to make entry in the "officer of the day'sbook" of such offences as were reported to him by the principal, theteachers, or the cadet-officers, and of such also as came under hisown notice in the schoolroom, where he occupied a position at the deskthroughout the day.

  On Friday evenings it was the duty of the adjutant to go, attended bya clerk, to the office of the principal, and while the clerk read fromthe book the reports of offences, the principal would assign the numberof demerit marks to each, and the adjutant would record them on hislist opposite the name of each offender.

  He also kept a list of merit marks, a certain number of which cancelleda certain greater number of demerit marks. If the excess of demeritmarks reached a certain amount, it made the offender a delinquent for aday; a certain greater amount extended the term of his delinquency totwo days, three days, a week, and so on.

  The balance against some of the more careless and mischievous boyswas always so large as to put them on what was known as perpetualdelinquency. Of this last class "Plumpy," as the fat boy wasaffectionately called by his companions, was a conspicuous and shiningexample.

  A delinquent was not allowed to leave the grounds under any pretext.Besides that, he was confined to the schoolroom during the hour ortwo of every afternoon when the other boys were at leisure, at play,walking in the country, boating on the river, or visiting the town.This confinement came especially hard on Saturday afternoons, when thehours of permitted absence extended from two to six o'clock, and therewas a general exodus from the school of all but the unhappy delinquents.

  It was the duty of the adjutant to keep these deportment lists andrecords in his possession, and to make up from them the tables ofconduct that entered into the term reports and determined eachstudent's standing.

  The three students who, at the close of each year, bore the highestrank in studies and deportment formed the honor grade, and each of themwas entitled to wear the honor-grade chevron.

  It was not easy at first for Finkelton to comprehend this somewhatcomplicated method of keeping the records, and he asked Brightly oneday to come up and explain it to him. Brightly replied, somewhatabruptly, that he believed he had fulfilled his entire duty when heturned the papers over, and that he knew of no reason why he shouldspend his time in the labors of an office from which he derived neitherprofit nor honor.

  But the next day his better nature came to the rescue, and he went upto Finkelton's room to acknowledge his fault, and to offer assistance.

  "I was too bearish yesterday," he explained. "I didn't think what amean way it was to speak till afterward. I'll show you anything youwant to know about the records, and be glad to."

  Finkelton received him rather coldly.

  "I haven't the lists here now," he said. "Captain Brede came and gotthem this morning to figure out his company's standing as againstHarple's. Besides, I won't need your assistance; I got all theinformation I wanted from another source."

  Brightly was surprised and chilled by Finkelton's manner toward him.They had been very good friends. But after a moment's thought, he knewthat he merited the implied reproach; and without another word heturned and went away. Ten minutes later Brede came into Finkelton'sroom, bringing the adjutant's papers with him.

  "I've brought back the lists, Fink," he said, "and here's a curiousthing in this one that I want to show you."

  He spread out on the table the general record and pointed to Brightly'sname on it.

  "Do you see," he continued, "that some one has scratched out a 25 inthe balance opposite that name and left it a 5?"

  "That's so," replied Finkelton, scrutinizing the paper closely. "Thatcertainly has been a 25. I didn't notice it before. Do you supposeBrightly has done a thing like this?"

  "Well, a man'll do a good deal to save an honor-grade chevron.Twenty-five would have lost it for him, five will let him make it yet.See?"

  "Yes, but I can't quite believe that of Bright. Maybe five is correctafter all."

  "If it is, what was the use of mutilating the weekly lists? You look atthem and you'll see that they're changed too. I tell you I believe he'saltered them himself. The colonel didn't cut him in standing when hesuspended him, and the fellow wants to take home a big report to showto his mother, and make her think he's been at the head of the heap allthe time."

  Finkelton was rummaging among the weekly lists.

  "Don't you think," continued Brede, "that you'd better call ColonelSilsbee's attention to the matter, anyway?"

  "Well, I might," responded Finkelton, slowly; "but I don't know thatit's my duty to, and maybe--" He paused for a moment, recallingthe somewhat strained relations existing at present between him andBrightly; then he added: "I've no objection to doing it, though. Ibelieve I owe him no favors."

  "Just so," assented Brede. "I think such a rascally and clumsy trickought to be exposed. You might do it to-night when you
go in to theoffice to make up the reports. I'll go in with you as clerk if you wantme to, and then I can explain how I came to detect the fraud. See?"

  Finkelton nodded. He had entered unsuspectingly into a cruel plot laidby an unscrupulous schemer.

  Ten minutes later, when Brede left the room, his eyes had a wickedgleam in them, and his thin lips were curled in pleasant contemplationof satisfying revenge. He himself had erased the figures. He had beenguilty not only of a mean and cowardly act, but of a criminal one aswell. Yet conscience did not smite him, nor fear of discovery cause himto hesitate.

  Finkelton carried out to the letter the programme laid down for himby Brede. He took the captain into the office with him that evening toassist in making up the weekly report. At an opportune moment ColonelSilsbee's attention was called to the erased and substituted figuresopposite Brightly's name and Brede very glibly related the story of hisdiscovery.

  Colonel Silsbee was much surprised and perplexed. He could not believethat Brightly had deliberately falsified the record. The lad had alwaysbeen scrupulously honest. He questioned Brede and Finkelton closely,but they gave him no further information. Finally he said,--

  "Brightly shall not be condemned without a hearing. Whatever his faultsmay have been of late, I cannot credit the fact that he has been guiltyof so gross a misdemeanor as these papers would seem to indicate. Wewill call him in and hear what he has to say."

  The school was gathered in evening session, and unusual quiet rested onthe assembly, when Colonel Silsbee appeared at the door of his officeand summoned Brightly. The suspended officer laid aside his book, andwalked up the aisle and across the open space by the desk with a smileon his face.

  He had quite expected to be called. He had felt sure that Finkeltonwould not be capable of making up the reports. Now it had proved so.They were in a snarl, and needed him to assist them in the unravelling.

  The idea seemed to please him greatly. He closed the office-door behindhim and advanced to the table at which the principal and the twocadets were sitting. His first glance revealed to him that somethingmore important and more serious than the disentangling of reports hadoccasioned his presence.

  Colonel Silsbee was the first to speak.

  "Brightly," he said, "my attention has been called to the fact thaterasures have been made opposite to your name in the reports whichhave, until recently, been in your possession. It is apparent thatlarge balances on the demerit side have been changed to small onesin your favor. I do not ask for an explanation from you, as thatwould seem to prejudge you. I only ask whether the balance as it nowstands on the general roll is the true one. Your simple assertion as agentleman and a soldier will decide the matter to my satisfaction. Youmay examine the papers."