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THE ACADEMY BOYS IN CAMP

THE ACADEMY BOYS IN CAMP

Mrs. S. F. Keene

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Groups of excited boys were gathered in the school-room of Massillon Academy one morning in June, near the end of the term. So busy were they with their conversation that the bell had sounded twice before they began to disperse, and even then the last words were exchanged as they went to their seats.

CHAPTER I. THE ROLL-CALL

Groups of excited boys were gathered in the school-room of Massillon Academy one morning in June, near the end of the term.

So busy were they with their conversation that the bell had sounded twice before they began to disperse, and even then the last words were exchanged as they went to their seats.

"Order!" was the stern command from the teacher's desk.

Quiet at once followed, and the roll was called as usual, followed by morning devotions.

Then Mr. Bernard came forward to the edge of the platform, and said quietly, "The leaves containing the lesson for the day have been torn from my 'Anabasis,' and a rumour has reached me that all the class-books have been similarly mutilated. Let those who have thus lost portions of their books stand up."

Fifteen boys, the entire class, sprang to their feet as if they had been waiting for the signal--some with a laugh, as if they considered it a good joke; others indignant; and all with an air of excitement and expectation, knowing that the offender was sure to be called to account.

Mr. Bernard glanced from face to face with short, sharp scrutiny, and said, without further comment, "Be seated."

Taking the large school ledger from the desk, he said, "I will call the roll. Let each boy answer on his honour. If you say 'No,' I shall understand that you had nothing to do with planning or executing this mischief."

There were eighty-five boys in the Academy; and as their names were called, each and all, from Adams to Warden, answered with a ringing "No!" After the last name there was a silence.

Mr. Bernard put aside the ledger, and surveyed the school. A slow, sweeping glance of the keen gray eyes searched every boyish face.

The most guilty-looking lad in the room was Joe Chester--"Little Joe" as every one called him; and Joe Chester was above suspicion.

Mr. Bernard did not for a moment suspect that Joe's confusion was the result of guilt; but knowing the boy so well, he felt sure that he had some knowledge of the offender, and that the knowledge was a burden.

After another glance along the seats where the older boys sat, the teacher said, very soberly, and with a peculiar look in his searching eyes: "Is it possible that we have a liar amongst us? A LIAR!"

The boys shrank visibly from this plain speaking, but the teacher repeated it slowly, "A LIAR!"

A lie was a deadly sin with Mr. Bernard, and the boy who would tell a deliberate falsehood he considered mean enough and bad enough for any wickedness.

He was a "liar," and no other word would describe him, even if he wore the finest broadcloth, or stood at the head of the class. The word had been spoken almost in a whisper, but with such emphasis that it seemed to ring through the school-room, and to come echoing back from the four walls.

Every honest boy felt thankful that the word could not apply to him; and some who had never considered an untruth a very shocking thing felt they would never be guilty of another.

To the astonishment of all, after another silence, in which the echo of the terrible word seemed still sounding through the room, Mr. Bernard said quietly, "You are dismissed."

The matter was surely a serious one when they were dismissed so early in the day with lessons unheard. The boys passed out in silence, most of them forgetting to be glad of a holiday.

Not till they were out of the building did any boy venture even to whisper to his neighbour.

Some retired at once to their rooms; but most of the pupils gathered in knots on the playground, to talk over the subject uppermost in the minds of all.

Joe Chester was not ready to discuss the question, and was not intending to join the crowd of talkers; but as he passed there was a cry: "Chester! Ho there, Chester!"

He waved his hand towards them, and was passing on, when one of the older boys seized him roughly by the collar, and straightway pulled him into one of the groups.

Joe struggled bravely to release himself; but being one of the smallest boys in the class, he stood small chance of escaping his assailant; so laughing good-naturedly, he allowed himself to be drawn into the centre of the crowd of eager talkers.

"That's right! Don't let him off till he gives a guess as to the scamp!" shouted several boys.

"Perhaps he did it himself," said the tall youth who had appointed himself policeman to collar Joe and bring him to the conclave.

"See here, Ralph Drayton, if I had been mean enough to play such a miserable trick with the books, I wouldn't be mean enough to deny it," said Joe stoutly, throwing his head back proudly, and looking the other straight in the eye.

Drayton laughed derisively, and said with a sneer, "Oh, I forgot; he is 'Saint Bernard's' pet billy-goat. He never would do anything bad, would he? Oh no." Then in a change of tone, he added in a conciliatory way, "Never mind me, Chester; of course I am funning. No one suspects you."

"No, I suppose not," said Joe coolly.

This he said with his honest blue eyes fastened searchingly on Ralph Drayton's small black ones.

The black eyes fell beneath the glance, but Drayton quickly recovered himself, and loosing his grasp on Joe's collar, said with a laugh, "I'll bet anything that the janitor did it!"

"Oh, pooh! The janitor!" said a half-dozen boys derisively.

"What did he care about the lesson?"

"Well, who then could it be? If I could find out, I'd thrash him for spoiling my book. I'll get a lecture from father at home when he sees that torn book. You see my brother Nelson is coming next year, and he will take my books as I leave them. My copy was new too!" and Ralph's tone was one of righteous indignation.

Joe Chester was too impatient to listen longer, and turned to go; but Drayton shouted, "Hold on, Chester! where are you going?"

"In," answered Joe shortly, motioning with his head towards the commons.

"Wait for me; I am going in too. It's no use to stand here and guess who did the mischief."

Joe Chester walked straight on, but Ralph Drayton overtook him with three strides.

As soon as they were out of hearing of the group on the playground, Drayton turned suddenly and said, "See here, Joe Chester, what do you know about this fuss?"

Joe walked on and made no answer.

"You know something. I saw it in your eye just now back there, and I saw it in your red face when old Bernard called the roll. You can't cheat me!"

"Well, Drayton, I am sure I don't want to cheat you. Yes, I do know something about it."

"What! do you know who tore the books?"

"Yes."

This Joe said steadily, with his eyes upon Ralph's face.

Both boys paused in their walk; and Joe, leaning back against the fence, folded his arms.

"Who was it?"

"You want to know, really?"

"To be sure I want to know."

"Well, Drayton, it was a fellow about your size; and the sooner he goes to Mr. Bernard and owns it, the better for him and for all the rest of us."

Drayton turned pale, and said, "Chester, do you mean that I did it?"

"I do mean just that."

Drayton's fists doubled up threateningly, and he was about to assume a fighting attitude, when he changed his plan, and tried to coax Joe.

"Oh come, Joe, you know better. You are only chaffing. I thought at first that you were in earnest."

"You thought right then," added Joe dryly.

Drayton made no reply, but tried to stare indignantly at Joe.

The effort failed; his own eyes dropped before the steady, honest eyes that looked him through.

"How do you know?--what made you think I did it?" added Drayton hurriedly, fearing that he had admitted his guilt.

"I saw you burning paper in the garden last evening, and although I had no idea then that you were up to mischief, I felt sure of it as soon as I found the fellows all complaining about their books."

"Pooh! those were letters I was burning--some I didn't want to carry home."

"They were not letters, they were book-leaves. I saw them plainly."

"Spy!" hissed Drayton furiously. "You hung around and watched."

"I did not. I was passing along that way because I left my geometry under the big tree, and I had to finish my lesson before bedtime."

"Oh yes," sneered Drayton. "You had time to take special notice of the size of the paper. You'd no business there; and I have a good mind to thrash you within an inch of your life."

Joe laughed at this furious threat. "I didn't know you owned the garden, or I would have kept out of it. As for thrashing, you know I don't thrash easy, even by a boy of your size. You tried it once. If you think it will help you out of your scrape, you can try it again."

Drayton looked amazed. Here was little Joe Chester not only defying him, but actually laughing at his threat as if it were a joke.

"Well, I'll tell you what it is, Chester: if you breathe a word about this I will have my revenge somehow."

Chester began to look fierce now himself. "Come, Drayton, you have blustered and fumed long enough. You had better change your course. I am not easily frightened."

Drayton had reached the same conclusion, and, changing his tone, said almost pleadingly,--

"Chester, if I am found out in this I'll be sent home, and my father would be awfully cut up if I had to leave this school. He is in a hurry to get me into college, and this would put me back if I get expelled. Don't you tell what you know, will you, Joe?" Then he added hurriedly, "I was an idiot to do it! I knew it as soon as I tore out the first leaf, which happened to be from Mr. Bernard's book. After that was gone, I was in for the business, and I just rushed it through."

"What put such a silly joke into your head?" asked Joe, curious to have that explained.

"Oh, Ben Carver and I planned it together. We thought it would be fun to get up a fuss over the books; but Ben backed out."

"Then Ben Carver knows it too?" asked Joe, with a sigh of relief, as if his burden were lightened by this assurance that some one else shared the secret.

"Yes, Carver knows, but I can trust him. He will just as soon lie as not, though he hadn't the pluck to carry out the plan. It all rests with you, Chester: if you will stand by me I shall come through all right."

"Well, Drayton, I'll do anything I can, except lie, for you. You needn't ask that."

"What if Bernard asks if you know?"

"If he asks me that question plump and fair, I shall have to say yes."

Drayton looked frightened and pale.

"Then it is all up with me, for he will ask as sure as fate."

"Now, Ralph, take my advice," said Joe, putting his arm over Drayton's shoulder. "Go and tell Mr. Bernard the truth. It isn't too late. Come; I will go with you."

The boy shook off Joe's arm, and said, "Nonsense, Joe; he might forgive the mischief, but he never would overlook the lie. I would be expelled at once. No, Joe, my only hope is in you. If you won't lie for me--"

"And you do not expect me to do that?" interrupted Joe proudly.

"No. I suppose you wouldn't lie to save yourself, and I can't expect you to for me, but I hate to go home in disgrace. The fact is, though I have been bragging around here, my father has pretty hard work to give us boys an education. Oh, such an idiot as I was!"

"Well, Drayton, I am sorry for you. I really am; and you may depend on me never to expose you. I'll let you do that yourself."

Drayton brightened up.

"Then you will keep mum?"

"Of course I will."

"Lie or no lie?"

"I didn't say that at all. If Mr. Bernard asks if I know, I shall be obliged to say yes, but he can't make me tell who did it."

"Not if he should threaten to expel you?"

Joe hesitated for a moment, and then said, "He would hardly do that, but if he should,--no, not even then."

"Joe Chester, you are a good fellow! Give us your hand! Now mum is the word!"

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