“Right dress!—Front!” commanded the captains, as the companies came into line; and when these orders had been obeyed, the superintendent, who stood in the place that is occupied by the battalion7 commander during dress-parade, thus addressed them:
“Young gentlemen,” said he, and his tones were not near as stern and severe as the boys expected they would be, “I am sorry to hear that some of you attempted to run the guard last night. Heretofore, when such offences have been committed, it has been our rule to examine the floor-guards and sentries8 who were on duty at the time, but we have seldom succeeded in drawing from them any information that would lead to the detection of the guilty parties. A student who will prove false to his duty, and violate the confidence reposed10 in him, will not scruple11 to tell any number of falsehoods to conceal12 his wrong-doing. Now I intend, before these 175ranks are broken, to learn the names of all those who tried to run by post No. 8 last night, as well as the name of the floor-guard who permitted them to pass. The first sergeants will now call the roll, and you can answer ‘guilty,’ or ‘not guilty,’ just as your sense of honor may seem to dictate13. If innocent, simply answer ‘here’ and keep your place in the ranks; if you are guilty, step three paces to the front. I put you all upon your honor.”
When the superintendent ceased speaking, the first sergeants moved to the front and centre of their respective companies, and the roll-call began. As it proceeded, more than one boy standing15 in the ranks of the third company tried to twist himself around so that he could catch a glimpse of Don Gordon’s face, hoping to see something there that would give him a hint of the course Don intended to pursue when his turn came to answer to his name.
“He certainly will not—he dare not—confess,” were the thoughts that passed through their minds. “If he does, he will be sent down, sure. If some one could only get a chance to whisper a word or two in his ear, we would come 176out all right yet, in spite of this honor business.”
The anxiety and alarm experienced by these boys showed very plainly in their countenances, and before the roll-call had been going on for two minutes, the superintendent could have stepped forward and picked out every one of the guard-runners.
The names of the boys belonging to the first and second companies were called in quick succession, and as yet nobody had stepped to the front. The culprits, in this instance, all belonged to the third class, with the single exception of Don Gordon, who, having long ago made up his mind what he would do, waited with some impatience16 to see how his companions in guilt9 would stand the test. The result was just what he might have expected.
“Clarence Duncan,” said the third company sergeant3.
“Here,” answered the owner of that name, making a desperate but unsuccessful effort to appear at his ease.
“George W. Brown.”
“Here.”
177“Richard Henderson.”
“Here.”
“Thomas Fisher.”
“Here.”
“They’re a pack of cowards,” was Don’s mental comment. “Such fellows always are, and I ought to have known better than to take up with them. My last act in this school will be to show them and everybody else that I am just as willing to pay the fiddler as I am to dance.”
At last the sergeant of the fourth company began, and near the top of his list was the name—“Donald Gordon.”
There was no response to it; but to the intense amazement17 of everybody present, and the almost overwhelming consternation18 of some, Don stepped quickly and firmly to the front. No one outside the “set” would have thought of picking him out as a guard-runner. The sergeant hesitated and stammered19 over the next name, and there was a perceptible flutter among all except the first-class boys. They showed their three years’ drill and discipline by standing as stiff as so many posts and holding their eyes straight to the front; but they could not control their countenances, and 178surprise and sorrow were depicted20 upon every one of them. When the roll-call was ended the sergeants went back to their places, and Don was left standing alone. He had passed through one ordeal21, and now came another.
“Gordon,” said the superintendent, “I am glad to see that you have too much manhood to take refuge behind a lie. I should have been very much surprised and grieved if you had showed me that I had formed a wrong opinion of you.”
These words made some of the guilty ones in the third class open their eyes. Duncan’s face grew whiter than ever, while Tom Fisher said to himself:
“I really believe the old fellow knows right where to look to find every boy who was outside the building last night after taps. If I had had the faintest suspicion that Don intended to confess, I should have been ahead of him. He’ll get off easy by giving the names of the rest of us, and Duncan and I and a few others, who kicked up such a row last term, will be sent down.”
“You had charge of the third floor between the hours of eight and twelve last evening,” 179continued the superintendent, addressing himself to Don.
“Yes, sir,” was the reply.
“And while you were on duty several boys, who you knew intended to run the guard, left their dormitories, and you permitted them to pass out of the building?”
“Yes, sir,” said Don, again.
“Give me the names of those boys,” said the superintendent, nodding to the adjutant, who pulled out his note-book and pencil; but he did not use them—at least just then. While he held his pencil in the air and looked at Don, and the culprits were trembling with apprehension22, and the others were listening with all their ears to catch the first name that fell from Don’s lips, the answer came clear and distinct:
“I hope you will not insist upon that, sir, for it is something I do not like to do.”
The superintendent stared, the teachers looked astonished, and another flutter of excitement ran along the line. This time it did not even miss the first-class boys, some of whom so far forgot themselves as to turn their heads and look at 180the boy who dared stand in the presence of the head of the school and say that he did not like to obey an order that had been given him point-blank. Such a thing had never happened before in the Bridgeport academy. Don’s companions in guilt began to breathe easier.
“If he will only stick to that I am all right; but he will have to go down,” soliloquized Clarence Duncan, whose every thought was a selfish one, and who did not care the snap of his finger what became of Don or anybody else, so long as he escaped punishment himself.
“That bangs me,” thought Tom Fisher, who was not altogether bad at heart, even though he did have faults almost without number. He knew a brave boy when he saw one, and Don’s conduct excited his unbounded admiration23. “He’s the pluckiest fellow I ever saw, and he shall not be sent down if I can help it.”
“Do you refuse to give me the names of those boys?” asked the superintendent, as soon as he had somewhat recovered from his surprise.
“I would rather not, sir,” replied Don. He did not like to use so strong a word as “refuse,” 181but still his answer was given in a tone which showed that he had no intention of wavering.
“You know the alternative?” said the superintendent, quietly but firmly.
“Yes, sir.”
“And you are willing to submit to it?”
“Yes, sir”
“But I am not willing that he should, sir,” exclaimed Tom Fisher, stepping three paces to the front and raising his hand to his cap. “If he won’t tell who the guard-runners are, I will.”
“Attention!” shouted the superintendent, who was utterly24 confounded by this breach25 of discipline; but Tom, having made a resolution, was determined26 to stick to it, regardless of the consequences.
“No boy in this academy shall ever again suffer for my misdeeds if I can help it,” said he, speaking as rapidly as he could in order that he might get everything off his mind before he was interrupted. “I was one of the guard-runners, and if the others have the least particle of pluck in them——”
“Attention!” shouted the superintendent again. “Captain Morgan” he added, addressing 182the commander of the first company, “detail a corporal’s guard to take private Fisher to his room under arrest.”
“I don’t care,” thought Tom, as he was marched off by the guard that was quickly detailed27 to take charge of him. “I did my best to save Don, and I shall go down with something like a clear conscience. But I really wish the superintendent would give me another chance. I would make an honest and earnest effort to do better.”
This was the unexpected act on the part of Tom Fisher to which we referred a short time ago, and which, taken in connection with Don’s bold acknowledgment of his guilt, did more to break up guard-running at that academy than all the locks and bolts that could have been put upon the doors. These two incidents upset everybody, teachers included; but the latter were quick to see how to take advantage of it.
“Sergeant Clayton, call the roll of your company again,” said the superintendent.
The sergeant obeyed, and this time all the guard-runners stepped to the front with the exception of Clarence Duncan. He had good 183reasons for fearing exposure, as we shall presently see, and believing that his companions would follow Don Gordon’s example and refuse to bear witness against him, he was resolved to keep up a bold front, and to deny his guilt to the very last.
“It is a pity that some of these weak-kneed fellows didn’t come to the same determination,” said he to himself. “There was not a scrap28 of evidence against any of us, and if they had only stood by me——”
“Sergeant, call private Duncan’s name again,” said the superintendent, breaking in upon his soliloquy.
“Clarence Duncan,” said the sergeant.
“Here,” came the response.
“Clarence Duncan!” repeated Clayton.
“Here!” replied the culprit; adding to himself, “You can’t make me own up, and you might as well give up trying.”
“Private Duncan, three paces to the front,” commanded the superintendent. “Break ranks.”
Duncan was taken to his room under guard, and when he got there he found an armed sentry29 pacing back and forth30 in front of the door. Tom Fisher was seated at the table with an open book 184before him, but he was not studying. He was thinking over the incidents that had just transpired31.
“Well, Clarence,” said he, cheerfully, “we’re in for it.”
“Yes,” replied Clarence, angrily. “Thanks to you and Don Gordon, we are in for it. I never knew before that you were such a coward. What made you side with Gordon?”
“Well, I had two reasons for it: In the first place, he showed himself to be a good fellow, and as true as steel; and I couldn’t stand by and see him punished. If I hadn’t spoken up, he would have been sent down for refusing to give our names.”
“That’s just what ought to have been done with him,” said Clarence.
“As the case now stands,” continued Tom, “he will, most likely, be let off easy, this being the first time that anything serious has been charged against him.”
“And what is to become of you and me?”
“You know what they told us the last time we were court-martialed, don’t you?”
“I should think I ought, for I have been 185reminded of it often enough. Don’t you know that by befriending Don you have got me into a terrible scrape? Don’t you remember that my father told me that he would put me on board the school-ship if I were sent down?”
It would have been strange if Tom had forgotten it, for Duncan had such a horror of that same school-ship that he talked about it every day. He had seen and conversed33 with boys who had been sent there because they would not behave themselves at home, and he had noticed that they all agreed on these two points—that the officers were very stern and severe, and that the life of a hod-carrier was easier and more respectable than that of a foremast hand. Clarence had a deep-rooted horror of the sea and every thing connected with it, and he looked forward to five years on the school-ship with feelings very near akin14 to those with which he would have looked forward to a term in the penitentiary34.
“You went back on me, an old-time friend, for the sake of a boy you never saw or heard of until last winter,” continued Clarence. “I didn’t act the craven, I tell you. I stuck it out as long as I could.”
“Did they find you out?” asked Tom.
186“I am under arrest, the same as you are; but they can’t prove anything against me.”
“Then how does it come that you are in arrest?”
“That’s just what beats me. They called the roll of our company again after you were sent off under guard, and, to my intense disgust, every fellow who was with us last night stepped to the front. They tried to bully35 a confession36 out of me, but I didn’t leave the ranks until I was ordered to do so.”
“That brings me to the second reason I had for doing as I did,” said Tom. “They’ve got evidence against every one of us.”
“I don’t see where they got it.”
If Clarence had taken the trouble to look in the mirror he would have seen at a glance where the evidence that convicted him came from. He carried it in his face.
We need not dwell upon the incidents that happened during the next few days, for they have nothing to do with our story, and no one except the boys who attended the Bridgeport academy at this particular time would be interested in them. It will be enough to say that the culprits were 187confined to their rooms and given ample leisure in which to think over their folly37 and make good resolutions for the future. The repentant38 ones devoted39 the most of their time to their books; but there were some among them who did nothing but bemoan40 their hard luck and rail at Don Gordon for being such a “fluke.”
The court-martial came off in due time, and Clarence Duncan, who denied his guilt to the very last, and even denounced the others for bearing false witness against him, was sent down; and it was not long before reports came to the academy that he had been placed on board the school-ship. Tom Fisher was given a new lease of life. He evidently knew just what he was doing when he took sides with Don, for that one act was all that saved him from going home too. Next to Duncan he and Don received the heaviest sentences, both being gated for two months, during which time they were required to walk eight extras with packed knapsacks on their backs. The others were punished in nearly the same way, only they were not gated for so long a period, nor were they called upon to perform as much extra duty. Strange as it may appear, no one suspected 188that the guard-runners had made use of the fire-escape. All the blame was laid upon the floor-guard, who suffered accordingly.
These stirring events, as we said before, broke up the “set” completely, and made fast friends of Don Gordon and Tom Fisher, who, holding firmly to their determination to do better, gradually broke off their intimate relations with the lazy, mischievous41, and discontented members of their classes, and began to have more to do with fellows who were worth knowing. The manly42 stand they had taken during the investigation43 (it was a manly act on Don’s part, but largely prudential on the part of Tom Fisher) excited the wonder and admiration of all the students, and the boys in the upper classes, who had never taken any notice of them except to return their salutes45, now sought them out and became intimate with them. It was certainly a great relief to Don to associate with fellows who were not all the while grumbling46 about something or discussing plans for getting by the guard. One day he was surprised by a visit from Egan, the first sergeant of his company, who entered his room holding an open letter in his hand.
189“Say, Gordon,” he exclaimed, taking no notice of Don’s salute44, “why didn’t you let the fellows know that your father used to go to this school?”
“Some of them do know it,” replied Don.
“Well, I didn’t know it until I received this letter,” said the sergeant, helping47 himself to a chair and throwing his cap on Bert’s bed. “I spoke32 of you in a letter I wrote home a short time ago, and am surprised to learn that your father and mine used to be room-mates and chums when they belonged to this academy. Let’s shake.”
Don took the sergeant’s proffered48 hand, and this was the beginning of another friendship that has never been broken. The sergeant was just the kind of associate that Don needed. He was a faithful soldier, a close student, a favorite with both teachers and scholars, and his example and influence did wonders for Don Gordon. It is true that during his first year at the academy he had been rather restive49 under the strict discipline to which he was subjected. He had even run the guard—if he hadn’t he would not have known as much as he did about Cony Ryan’s pancakes and maple50 syrup—and he had paid for his fun by walking extras and being gated; but that was all 190over now, and he was one of the last boys in school who would have been suspected of any violation51 of the rules.
Egan introduced his new friend to the fellows in the first class, and first-class fellows Don found them to be. Some of them were fond of shooting and fishing, knew a good dog and gun when they saw them, and could tell hunting stories without number. Others among them—and they were Southern boys, like Don—thought more of their horses than they did of almost anything else. They were at home in the saddle, and delighted to talk of the fine times they had enjoyed while riding to the hounds. Courtland Hopkins, who was the Falstaff of the academy, always grew enthusiastic when the subject of fox-hunting was introduced.
“Ah! Gordon,” he said one day, “that is the sport par1 excellence52. Come down into Maryland with me next vacation, and I’ll show you some fun. A lot of the fellows have been promising53 to go for a long time, but that’s all it has amounted to.”
“I’d like to see you in the saddle, Hop,” said Egan, taking his friend by the arm and turning 191him around so that he could give him a good looking over. “You’ve almost too much avoirdupois for a rider, according to my way of thinking. In other words, you’re a great deal too fat.”
“Just give me a good horse, and see if I can’t take a ten-rail fence as cleverly as anybody,” returned Hopkins, quickly. “I am good for a plate of soup at the International if there is a colt in Bridgeport that can throw me.”
“If you will all go home with me, I will give you some of the best duck-shooting you ever saw,” said Don.
“Yes; but that would require a scatter-gun, and that is something I never did like,” said Walter Curtis. “If you want to see fun, combined with skill, take a Thanksgiving dinner with me, and watch the members of our club break glass balls with rifles.”
These words were spoken carelessly, but they were not forgotten. If they had been, this series of books would never have been written.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
par
|
|
| n.标准，票面价值，平均数量；adj.票面的，平常的，标准的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
superintendent
|
|
| n.监督人，主管，总监；(英国)警务长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
sergeant
|
|
| n.警官，中士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
sergeants
|
|
| 警官( sergeant的名词复数 )； （美国警察）警佐； （英国警察）巡佐； 陆军（或空军）中士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
countenances
|
|
| n.面容( countenance的名词复数 )；表情；镇静；道义支持 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
battalion
|
|
| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
sentries
|
|
| 哨兵，步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
guilt
|
|
| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
reposed
|
|
| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
scruple
|
|
| n./v.顾忌，迟疑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
conceal
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
dictate
|
|
| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
akin
|
|
| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
impatience
|
|
| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
consternation
|
|
| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
stammered
|
|
| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
depicted
|
|
| 描绘，描画( depict的过去式和过去分词 )； 描述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
ordeal
|
|
| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
apprehension
|
|
| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
breach
|
|
| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
detailed
|
|
| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
scrap
|
|
| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
sentry
|
|
| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
transpired
|
|
| （事实，秘密等）被人知道( transpire的过去式和过去分词 )； 泄露； 显露； 发生 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
conversed
|
|
| v.交谈，谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
penitentiary
|
|
| n.感化院；监狱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
bully
|
|
| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
confession
|
|
| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
repentant
|
|
| adj.对…感到悔恨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
devoted
|
|
| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
bemoan
|
|
| v.悲叹，哀泣，痛哭；惋惜，不满于 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
mischievous
|
|
| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
manly
|
|
| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
investigation
|
|
| n.调查，调查研究 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
salute
|
|
| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
salutes
|
|
| n.致敬，欢迎，敬礼( salute的名词复数 )v.欢迎，致敬( salute的第三人称单数 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
grumbling
|
|
| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
helping
|
|
| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
proffered
|
|
| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
restive
|
|
| adj.不安宁的，不安静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
maple
|
|
| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
violation
|
|
| n.违反(行为)，违背(行为)，侵犯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
excellence
|
|
| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
promising
|
|
| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |