“We heard them say so, too,” replied Curtis. “But we’re here all the same. Hallo, Bert. And there’s Egan. How’s your hand, old fellow? Lost that little finger yet?”
“No; and I don’t think I’ll have to. Why didn’t you let us know that you were coming?”
“You did know it, or else you couldn’t have met us at the depot,” answered Don, after he had returned his brother’s greeting.
“I mean that you ought to have sent us word this morning,” said Egan. “The ladies would[218] have got up a good supper for you if they had had time to do it.”
“We should have done full justice to it, for we had an early breakfast and no dinner,” Curtis remarked. “But you have not yet told us what is the matter with you, Hop1. I hope you were not shot.”
“And ‘thereby hangs a tale,’” added Egan. “I’ll tell you all about it when we get up to the academy. Hop showed himself a hero if he did run out of the back door.”
“How did you get back to Bridgeport?” inquired Don.
“I went home with the doctor on the morning that you fellows started for Hamilton, you know,” replied Egan. “Well, as soon as he had dressed my hand and the wounds of some of the other boys who were able to walk, we went up the track to the next station, and there we telegraphed for a carriage. To tell the truth I never expected to get home, for the rioters were scouring5 the country in search of us. We heard of them at every house along the road, and everybody cautioned us to look out for ourselves.”
[219]
During a hurried conversation with their friends, Don and Curtis learned that the people of Bridgeport knew as much about the fight as they did themselves. Perhaps they knew more, for they had heard both sides of the story. The students who came home the day after the fight—the missing ones had all reported with the exception of three, whose wounds were so severe that they could not be brought from the city—had given a correct version of the affair and described the part that every boy took in it. All those who had done their duty like men were known to the citizens, and so were those who gave up their guns when the strikers demanded them. The boys who did the fighting, however, had not a word to say regarding the behavior of their timid comrades. They had an abundance of charity for them.
“We don’t blame them for being frightened,” Don and Curtis often said. “There isn’t a boy in the company who wouldn’t have been glad to get out of that car if he could. When you have been placed in just such a situation yourselves, you will know how we felt; until then, you have no business to sit in judgment6 upon those who are said to have shown the white feather.”
[220]
The fifteen minutes allotted7 for hand-shaking having expired, the students fell in and set out for the academy. As they marched through the gate the bell in the cupola rung out a joyful8 greeting, the artillery9 saluted10 them, and the boys in the first, second and fourth companies presented arms. They moved at once to the armory11, and after listening to a stirring speech from the superintendent12 the ranks were broken, and their campaign against the Hamilton rioters was happily ended.
“And I, for one, never want to engage in another,” said Captain Mack, as he and Don and Curtis set out in search of Egan and Hopkins. “Have you heard some of the fellows say that they wish they had been there?”
Yes, they and all the returned soldiers had heard a good deal of such talk from boys who would have died before giving up their guns, and who were loud in their criticisms of Mr. Kellogg, who ought to have stopped the train at least half a mile from the mob, and fired upon it the moment it appeared. What a chance this would have been for Lester Brigham, if he had only been in a situation to improve it! If he had never known before that he made a great mistake by feigning13 illness on the[221] night the false alarm was sounded, he knew it now. He could not conceal14 the disgust he felt whenever he saw a third-company boy surrounded by friends who were listening eagerly to his description of the fight. Such sights as these made him all the more determined15 to get away from the academy where he had always been kept in the background in spite of his efforts to push himself to the front. And worse than all, there was Don Gordon, who had come home with the marks of a rioter’s knife on his coat and belt, who had behaved with the coolness of a veteran, and showed no more fear than he would have exhibited if he had been engaged in a game of snow-ball.
“I’ll bet he was under a seat more than half the time, and that nobody noticed him,” said Lester, spitefully.
“Oh, I guess not,” said Jones. “Gordon isn’t that sort of a fellow. Well, they have had their fun, and ours is yet to come. There will be a jolly lot of us sent down at the end of the term. What do you suppose your governor will say to you?”
“Not a word,” replied Lester, confidently. “He didn’t send me here to risk life and limb by fighting strikers who have done nothing to me, and[222] when he gets the letters I have written him, he will tell me to start for home at once.”
“But you’ll not go?” said Jones.
“Not until we have had our picnic,” replied Lester.
“Perhaps your father won’t care to have Jones and me visit you,” remarked Enoch.
“Oh, yes he will. He told me particularly to invite a lot of good fellows home with me, and he will give you a cordial welcome. I haven’t got a shooting-box, but I own a nice tent, and that will do just as well. I will show you some duck-shooting that will make you open your eyes.”
“All right,” said Enoch. “I’ll go, according to promise, and you must be sure and visit me in my Maryland home next year. Both the Gordons and Curtis will visit Egan at that time, and unless I am much mistaken, we can make things lively for them.”
“Nothing would suit me better,” returned Lester. “I hate all that crowd. Don and Bert went back on me as soon as they got me here, and I’ll never rest easy until I get a chance to square yards with them.”
(Lester learned this from Enoch. He remembered[223] all the nautical17 expressions he heard, and used them as often as he could, and sometimes without the least regard for the fitness of things. He hoped in this way to make his companions believe that he was a sailor, and competent to command the yacht during their proposed cruise.)
The conversation just recorded will make it plain to the reader that Lester and some of his particular friends, following in the lead of Don and Bert Gordon and their friends, had made arrangements to spend a portion of their vacation in visiting one another. They carried out their plans, too, and perhaps we shall see what came of it.
When Mack and the rest found Hopkins and Egan, they went up to the latter’s room, where they thought they would be allowed to talk in peace; but some of the students saw them go in there, and in less time than it takes to write it, the little dormitory was packed until standing18-room was at a premium19. The boys were full of questions. What one did not think of another did, and it was a long time before Don could say a word about Hopkins’s experience, which Egan related substantially as follows:
[224]
To begin with, Hopkins did not leave the car because he wanted to, but because he couldn’t help himself. When the rioters voted to disarm20 the young soldiers, half a dozen pairs of ready hands were laid upon his musket21, but Hopkins wouldn’t give it up. Threats, and the sight of the revolvers and knives that were brandished22 before his face, had no effect upon him; but he could not contend against such overwhelming odds23, with the least hope of success. He was jerked out into the aisle24 in spite of all he could do to prevent it, and dragged toward the door. When the students turned their bayonets and the butts25 of their pieces against their assailants, the latter made a frantic26 rush for the door, and Hopkins was wedged in so tightly among them, that he could not get out. His gun was pulled from his grasp, and Hopkins, finding his hands at liberty, seized the arm of the nearest seat in the hope of holding himself there until the mob had passed out of the car; but the pressure from the forward end was too great for his strength. He lost his hold, was carried out of the door by the rush of the rioters, who, intent on saving themselves, took no notice of him, and crowded him off the platform.
[225]
“But before I went, I was an eye-witness to a little episode in which our friend Egan bore a part, and which he seems inclined to omit,” interrupted Hopkins.
“Now, Hop, I’ve got the floor,” exclaimed Egan, who was lying at his ease on his room-mate’s bed.
“I don’t care if you have. There’s no gag-law here.”
“Go on, Hop,” shouted the boys.
“It will take me but a moment,” said Hopkins, while Egan settled his uninjured hand under his head with a sigh of resignation. “When the mob went to work to disarm us, one big fellow stepped up to Egan and took hold of his gun. ‘Lave me this; I’m Oirish,’ said he. ‘I’m Irish too,’ said Egan. ‘Take that with me compliments and lave me the gun;’ and he hit the striker a blow in the face that lifted him from his feet and would have knocked him out of the front door, if there hadn’t been so many men and boys in the way. That fellow must have thought he had been kicked by a mule27. At any rate he did not come back after the gun, and Egan was one of the few who got out of the car as fully16 armed as he was when he went in.”
[226]
Hopkins could be irresistibly28 comical when he tried, and his auditors29 shouted until the room rang again. They knew that his story was exaggerated, but it amused them all the same. Egan did say that he was Irish (Hopkins often told him that if he ever denied his nationality his name would betray him), and it was equally true that he floored the man who demanded his gun, and with him one or two of his own company boys who happened to be in the way; but he said nothing about “compliments” nor did he imitate the striker’s way of talking. Among those who felt some of the force of that blow, was Captain Mack.
“That explains how I got knocked down,” said he. “The rioters were trying to drag the professor out of the car, and we were doing all we could to protect him, when all at once some heavy body took me in the back, and the first thing I knew I was sprawling30 on the floor. I thought I should be trampled31 to death before I could get up.”
When Hopkins struck the ground he stood still and waited for some of the mob to come and knock him on the head; but seeing that they were looking out for themselves, and that some of[227] his comrades were making good time up the track in the direction of Bridgeport, he started too, doing much better running than he did when he stole farmer Hudson’s jar of buttermilk, and passing several of the company who were in full flight. The bullets sang about his ears and knocked up the dirt before and behind him, and Hopkins began looking about for a place of concealment32. Seeing that some of his company ran down from the track and disappeared very suddenly when they reached a certain point a short distance in advance of him, Hopkins stopped to investigate. He found that they had sought refuge in a culvert, which afforded them secure protection from the bullets; but Hopkins was inclined to believe that in fleeing from one danger they had run plump into another. There were strikers as well as students in there; and as he halted at the mouth of the culvert he heard a hoarse34 voice say:
“You soldier boys had better not stop here. You have made the mob mad, and as soon as they get through with those fellows in the car, they are going to spread themselves through the country and make an end of everybody who wears the[228] academy uniform. I heard some of them say so, and I am talking for your good.”
“And I will act upon your advice,” said Hopkins to himself. “It is a dangerous piece of business to go along that railroad-track, but I don’t see how I am going to help it.”
It proved to be a more dangerous undertaking35 than the boy thought it was. Death by the bullets which constantly whistled over the track, was not the only peril36 that threatened him now. Believing that the main body of their forces could keep the professor and his handful of students in the car until their cartridges37 were expended38, after which it would be an easy matter to drag them out and hang them as they fully meant to do, the rioters had sent off a strong detachment to look after the boys who had escaped from the rear of the car. Hopkins could see them running through the fields with the intention of getting ahead of the fugitives39 and surrounding them.
“That’s a very neat plan, but I don’t think it will work,” said Hopkins, as he drew himself together and prepared for another foot-race. “I wish I had known this before I left the culvert so[229] that I could have told—I’ll go back and tell them if I lose my only chance for escape by it.”
Hopkins turned quickly about, but saw at a glance that there was no need that he should waste valuable time by going back to the culvert. The boys were leaving it in a body and making their way across a field. They were going to join their comrades who had left the car, but Hopkins did not know it, for he could not see the company, it being concealed40 from his view by some thick bushes which grew on that side of the track.
“They’re all right,” said Hopkins, “but it seems to me they are taking a queer way to get home. I’ll stick to the track, because it leads to Bridgeport by the most direct route. Now then for a run! Hallo, here! What’s the matter with you, Stanley?”
While Hopkins was talking in this way to himself, he was flying up the track at a rate of speed which promised to leave the fleetest of the flanking party far behind; but before he had run a hundred yards, he came upon a student who was sitting on the end of one of the ties with his head resting on his hands. As Hopkins drew nearer he saw that the boy had bound his handkerchief[230] around his leg just above his knee, and that it was stained with blood.
“What’s the matter?” repeated Hopkins.
“I’m shot and can’t go any farther,” was the faint reply.
“When did you get it?”
“Just as I jumped from the car.”
“Well, get up and try again. You must go on, for if you stay here you are done for. Look there,” said Hopkins, directing the boy’s attention to the rioters who were trying to surround them.
“I can’t help it. I ran till I dropped, and I couldn’t do more, could I? I am afraid my leg is broken. Take care of yourself.”
“I will, and of you, too,” replied Hopkins. “Get up. Now balance yourself on one foot, throw your arms over my shoulders and I will carry you.”
The wounded boy, who had given up in despair, began to take heart now. He did just as Hopkins told him, and the former walked off with him on his back as if his weight were no incumbrance whatever. He did not run, but he moved with a long, swinging stride which carried him and his burden over the ground as fast as most boys would[231] care to walk with no load at all. The mob followed them until they came to the creek41 which was too wide to jump and too deep to ford33, and there they abandoned the pursuit. At all events Hopkins and Stanley saw no more of them that night.
“Look out,” said Stanley, suddenly. “There’s one of them right ahead of us.”
Hopkins looked up and saw a man standing on the track. The manner of his appearance seemed to indicate that he had been hidden in the bushes awaiting their approach.
“You had better put me down and save yourself,” whispered Stanley, as Hopkins came to a halt wondering what he was going to do now. “If you get into a fight with him I can’t help you.”
“I didn’t pick you up to drop you again at the first sign of danger,” was the determined reply. “I wish I had a club or a stone. You don’t see one anywhere, do you?”
“Say, boss,” said the man, in guarded tones.
“Bully for him; he’s a darkey,” exclaimed Hopkins. “We have nothing to fear.”
“Say, boss,” said the man again, as he came down the track, “Ise a friend. Don’t shoot.”
“All right, uncle. Come on.”
[232]
“What’s de matter wid you two?”
“There’s nothing the matter with me,” answered Hopkins, “but this boy is shot. Can you do anything for him?”
“Kin2 I do sumpin fur de soldiers?” exclaimed the negro. “’Course I kin, kase didn’t dey do a heap fur me when de wah was here? I reckon mebbe I’d best take him down to de house whar de women folks is.”
“Handle him carefully,” said Hopkins. “He’s got a bad leg.”
The negro, who was a giant in strength as well as stature42, raised the wounded boy in his arms as easily as if he had been an infant, and carried him up the track until he came to a road which led back into the woods where his cabin was situated43. Here they found several colored people of both sexes who had gathered for mutual44 protection, and who greeted the boys with loud exclamations45 of wonder and sympathy.
“Hush yer noise dar,” commanded the giant, who answered to the name of Robinson. “Don’t yer know dat dem strikers is all fru de country, an’ dat some of ’em was hyar not mor’n ten minutes ago?”
[233]
“Not here at this house?” exclaimed Hopkins, in alarm.
Yes, they had been there at the house, and in it and all over it, so Robinson said, looking for the boys who had escaped by the rear door. They might return at any moment, but he (Robinson) would do the best he could for them. He couldn’t fight the mob, as he would like to, but perhaps he could keep the boys concealed.
“What do you think they would do with us if they found us?” inquired Stanley.
Robinson couldn’t say for certain, but the men who came to his house were angry enough to do almost anything. They were all armed, and some of them carried ropes in their hands. This proved that their threat to hang the young soldiers was no idle one.
The first thing Robinson did was to look at Stanley’s wound. A bullet had plowed46 a furrow47 through the back of his leg just below his knee, and although the artery48 had not been cut and the bone was uninjured, everybody saw at a glance that it was impossible for him to go any farther. Hopkins inquired where he could find a surgeon, but the negro wouldn’t tell him, declaring that if[234] he set out in search of one he would never see his friends again.
While Hopkins was trying to make up his mind what he ought to do, he suddenly became aware that there was something the matter with himself. One of his boots seemed to be growing tighter, and he limped painfully when he tried to walk across the floor.
“I declare, I believe I have sprained my ankle,” said he; and an examination proved that he had. His ankle was badly swollen49 and inflamed50, and after he took his boot off he could not bear the weight of his foot upon the floor.
“I reckon you’ns has got to put up at my hotel dis night, bofe of you,” said Robinson. “You can’t go no furder, dat’s sho’.”
“Perhaps you had better let us lie out in the woods,” said Hopkins. “If the strikers should return and find us here, they might do you some injury.”
The negro said he didn’t care for that. Soldiers had more than once put themselves in danger for him, and it was a pity if he couldn’t do something for them. At any rate he would take the risk. He bustled51 about at a lively rate while he was[235] talking, and in five minutes more the disabled boys had been carried up the ladder that led to the loft53 and stored away there on some hay that had been provided for them. After that Stanley’s leg was dressed with cold coffee, which Robinson declared to be the best thing in the world for gunshot wounds. Hopkins’s ankle was bound up in cloths wet with hot water, a plain but bountiful supper was served up to them, and they were left to their meditations54. Of course they did not sleep much, for they couldn’t. They suffered a good deal of pain, but not a word of complaint was heard from either of them. Hopkins acted as nurse during the night, and shortly after daylight sunk into an uneasy slumber55, from which he was aroused by a gentle push from Stanley, who shook his finger at him to keep him quiet.
“They’ve come,” whispered his companion.
“They! Who?” said Hopkins, starting up.
“The mob. Don’t you hear them?”
Hopkins listened, and his hair seemed to rise on end when he caught the low hum of conversation outside, which grew louder and more distinct as a party of men approached the house. Enjoining56 silence upon his companion Hopkins drew himself[236] slowly and painfully over the hay to the end of the loft, and looked out of a convenient knot hole. Stanley, who watched all his movements with the keenest interest, trembled all over when Hopkins held up all his fingers to indicate that there were ten of them. He also made other motions signifying that the rioters were armed and that they had brought ropes with them. Just then there was a movement in the room below, and Robinson opened the door and stepped out to wait the mob.
“Say, nigger,” exclaimed one of the leaders, “where are those boys who were here last night?”
Robinson replied that he didn’t know where they were. They had been taken to the city early that morning, and he thought they were in the hospital.
“Were they both hurt?” asked one of the rioters.
“Yes; one had a bullet through his leg, and the other had been shot in the foot.”
“We wish those bullets had been through their heads,” said the leader. “It’s well for them that they got away, for we came here on purpose to hang them.”
“Dat would serve ’em just right,” said Robinson.[237] “Dey ain’t got no call to come down hyar an’ go to foolin’ wid de workin’ man when he wants his bread an’ butter. No, sar, dey ain’t.”
The boys in the loft awaited the result of this conference with fear and trembling. They fully expected that the rioters would search the house and drag them from their place of concealment, but the negro answered all their questions so readily and appeared to be so frank and truthful57, that their suspicions were not aroused. When Stanley, who kept a close watch of his friend, saw him kiss his hand toward the knot-hole, he drew a long breath of relief, for he knew that the rioters were going away.
This visit satisfied both them and their sable52 host that they were not safe there, and Robinson at once sent his oldest boy to the nearest farm-house to borrow a horse and wagon58. When the vehicle arrived the boys were put into it, and Robinson took the reins59 and drove away with all the speed he could induce the horse to put forth60.
“How do you suppose those men knew that we were at your house?” said Hopkins.
“One of dem no account niggers dat was dar las’ night done went an’ tol’ ’em,” replied Robinson,[238] angrily. “I’ll jest keep my eye peeled fur dat feller, an’ when I find him, I’ll make him think he’s done been struck by lightnin’. I will so.”
Robinson took the boys to the house of the nearest surgeon, who received and treated them with the greatest kindness and hospitality. As Hopkins and Stanley were boys who never spent their money foolishly they always had plenty of it, and consequently they were able to bestow61 a liberal reward upon the negro, who volunteered to drive to the nearest station and sent off a despatch62 for them. The next day a carriage arrived from Bridgeport and Hopkins went home in it, but Stanley, much to his regret, was ordered to remain behind, the surgeon refusing to consent to his removal; but he could not have been in pleasanter quarters or under better care.
There were half a dozen other boys in the room who told stories of escapes that were fully as interesting as this one. They could have talked all night, but the supper-call sounded, and that broke up the meeting.
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收听单词发音
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1
hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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3
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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4
sprained
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| v.&n. 扭伤 | |
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5
scouring
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| 擦[洗]净，冲刷，洗涤 | |
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6
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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7
allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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8
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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9
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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10
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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11
armory
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| n.纹章，兵工厂，军械库 | |
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12
superintendent
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| n.监督人，主管，总监；(英国)警务长 | |
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13
feigning
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| 假装，伪装( feign的现在分词 )； 捏造（借口、理由等） | |
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14
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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15
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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16
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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17
nautical
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| adj.海上的，航海的，船员的 | |
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18
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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19
premium
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| n.加付款；赠品；adj.高级的；售价高的 | |
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20
disarm
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| v.解除武装，回复平常的编制，缓和 | |
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21
musket
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| n.滑膛枪 | |
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22
brandished
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| v.挥舞( brandish的过去式和过去分词 )；炫耀 | |
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23
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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24
aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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25
butts
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| 笑柄( butt的名词复数 )； （武器或工具的）粗大的一端； 屁股； 烟蒂 | |
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26
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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mule
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| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
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irresistibly
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| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
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29
auditors
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| n.审计员，稽核员( auditor的名词复数 )；（大学课程的）旁听生 | |
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30
sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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31
trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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32
concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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33
Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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34
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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35
undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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36
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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expended
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| v.花费( expend的过去式和过去分词 )；使用（钱等）做某事；用光；耗尽 | |
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fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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stature
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| n.（高度）水平，（高度）境界，身高，身材 | |
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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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plowed
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| v.耕( plow的过去式和过去分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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furrow
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| n.沟；垄沟；轨迹；车辙；皱纹 | |
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artery
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| n.干线，要道；动脉 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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inflamed
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| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
bustled
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| 闹哄哄地忙乱，奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 )； 催促 | |
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sable
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| n.黑貂；adj.黑色的 | |
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loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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meditations
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| 默想( meditation的名词复数 )； 默念； 沉思； 冥想 | |
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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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enjoining
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| v.命令( enjoin的现在分词 ) | |
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truthful
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| adj.真实的，说实话的，诚实的 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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despatch
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| n./v.(dispatch)派遣；发送；n.急件；新闻报道 | |
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