CHAPTER VII.
OLD TOBY'S MONEY.
"Young gentlemen, what is the meaning of this new outrage?" demanded thecolonel angrily.
"A tussle over the flag, sir," replied Dixon, standing very stiffly andraising his hand to his cap. "The old one having mysteriouslydisappeared, it became necessary to hoist a new one, sir."
Of course the commandant knew long before this time that the colors hadbeen taken from his bureau, and he knew, also, that the theft had beencommitted under cover of that sham fight in the hall; but he did not saya word about it. To be candid, he did not think it would be good policyto try to sift the matter to the bottom, for fear of implicating someprofitable student whom he could not afford to expel. Being proprietorof the school, he desired to keep it intact as long as he could.
"And during the tussle two of your number came very near beingprecipitated to the ground," exclaimed the colonel. "I shall put a stopto this insubordination if I have to order the whole school into theguard-house."
"Very good, sir," answered the boys.
"Go downstairs, all of you," commanded the officer of the day. "SergeantRodney and Private Marcy Gray, report to me at once."
The students hastened down the ladder, wondering what was to be theresult of this "new outrage." When they reached the hall one of themsaid, in tones loud enough to be heard by all his companions:
"Graham is a traitor. He stole the old flag, but he furnished a new oneto be hoisted in its place."
"There's where you are wrong," exclaimed Marcy promptly. "Dick hadnothing whatever to do with it, and when he saw this new flag, he was asmuch surprised as the rest of you were. I have had it concealed in myroom for more than six weeks. I meant to be ready for you, you see."
"Where did you get it? if that is a fair question."
"It was made by a young lady who lives in Barrington, but of course youdo not expect me to mention her name. She is true to her colors, andthat's more than can be said in favor of you fellows who would havehauled it down if you had possessed the pluck."
"That was well put in, Marcy," said Rodney. "There isn't pluck enoughamong the whole lot of them to fit out a good-sized cat. If the Yankeesshould come down here, they could drive an army of such fellows withnothing but cornstalks for weapons."
The tone in which these words were uttered set Dick Graham going again,and he started all the rest that is, all except a few who were so angrythey couldn't laugh. If that dread functionary, the officer of the day,heard the uproar, he must have thought that the culprits who had beencommanded to report to him did not take their prospective punishmentvery much to heart.
Of course the boys who remained below were impatient to hear all aboutthe things that had happened in and around the belfry, and to know whatwas going to be done with Rodney and his cousin. But the last was apoint upon which no one could enlighten them, not even the cousinsthemselves when they came from the presence of the officer of the day,who had given them a stern reprimand and a warning. Being from Louisianahimself, and having offered his services to her in case they should berequired, he bore down upon Marcy harder than he did upon Rodney, andeven went so far as to try and convince the North Carolina boy that theword "traitor," which had so often been applied to him by hisschoolmates, was deserved and appropriate. But Marcy could not look atit that way, and even in the presence of the man who could have shut himup in the guard-house, with nothing but bread to eat and water to drink,he did not "haul in his shingle one inch." He never had made any troublein the school, and, what was more to the point, he did not intend to;but neither was he going to stand still and permit a lot of rebels torun over him. The colonel had said, in so many words, that the flag wasto be hoisted every morning until further orders; and in hoisting a newone in the place of the one that had disappeared, he had not broken anyrule. The officer knew that to be true, and as he could not punish onewithout punishing the other also, he was obliged to let them both goscot-free; but he detained Rodney a moment to whisper a word of cautionto him.
"Don't let this thing be repeated," said he earnestly. "I think just asyou do, and if I could have my own way, your flag would now be waving onthe tower; but it is my duty to obey orders, and it is your duty aswell. Don't make another move until this State joins the Confederacy,and then there will be no one to oppose you. The hoisting of anotherflag will break up the school, but that is to be expected. You may go."
"He said, in effect, that he would keep this thing hanging over ourheads to see how we behave in future," said Rodney to Billings and Cole,who were in the hall waiting for him. "He is on our side, but not beingthe head of the school, he can't back us up as he would like to. Butthen this will keep," he added, once more shaking out his flag, which hehad all the while carried under his arm. "I was afraid the teacherswould take it away from me, but as they didn't, we'll hold ourselves inreadiness to run it up when the other is ordered down."
But the incidents of the morning, exciting as they were, did not longmonopolize the attention of the students, or remain the principalsubjects of discussion. They were forgotten the minute the mail wasdistributed, for of course their papers contained news from all parts,and the boys made it their business to keep posted. There was one thingthe papers had already begun to do that excited derisive laughter amongall the sensible boys in school. They called dispatches from the North"Foreign Intelligence." But there were some, like Rodney Gray, who couldnot see that that was anything to laugh at, and following the lead oftheir favorite journals in politics, they soon learned to follow theirvocabulary also, and always spoke of the North as "the United States,"and of the South as "the Confederate States."
When the adjutant's call was sounded Marcy Gray fell in with the othermembers of his company who had been warned for duty, and marched to theparade-ground to go through the ceremony of guard-mounting. Immediatelyafter that he went on post in a remote part of the grounds, a favoriteplace with the sentries on hot summer days, for the woods on the otherside came close up to the fence, and the trees threw a grateful shadeover the beat. The only order the boy he relieved had to pass, was asimple as well as a useless one. It was to "keep his eye peeled for thatfence and not permit anybody to climb over it"; but Marcy listened asthough he meant to obey it. Then the relief passed on, and he was leftalone with his thoughts, which, considering the incidents connected withthat skirmish on the tower, were not the most agreeable company.
He had been there perhaps a couple of hours, out of sight of everybody,when he was brought to a stand-still by a rustling among the bushes onthe other side of the fence, and presently discovered old Toby lookingat him over a fallen log. A smile of genuine joy and relief overspreadthe black man's features when he saw who the vigilant sentry was, and heimmediately got upon his feet and came to the fence.
"The top of the morning to you, parson," said Marcy pleasantly. "You actas though you might be looking for some one."
"Sarvent, sah," replied Toby. "I is for a fac' lookin' for you, an'nobody else. I was up to de gate, an' Marse Dick Graham done tol' me youdown heah. You-uns gwine get in de biggest sort of trouble, you an'Marse Dick, an' I come heah to tol' you."
"I assure you we are grateful to you for it," answered the boy, with asmile. "But how are we going to get into trouble? Talk fast, for I haveno business to hold any communication whatever with you."
"Dat white trash, Bud Gobble; he's de man," began Toby. "You an' MarseDick done sont him into de woods to look for de way to dat undergroundrailroad--"
Marcy leaned upon his musket, threw back his head, and laughed heartilybut silently, for he did not want to bring the corporal of the guarddown to his post until he had heard what the old negro had to tell him.
"Dat's jes' what you-uns done, Marse Marcy," continued Toby. "An' nowdat man gwine tote you bofe out in de woods an' lick you like he was deoberseer an' you two de niggahs."
When Marcy heard this he did not know whether to laugh again or getangry over it.
As time was precious he did neither, but beganquestioning Toby, who told a story that made the boy open his eyes. Whenit was concluded the fact was plain to Marcy that somebody had beentrying to get him and Dick Graham into trouble; but who could it be? Heknew that he had been airing his Union sentiments rather freely, but hewasn't aware that he had made any enemies by it. He wished the hour forhis relief would hasten its coming, so that he might compare notes withDick.
"You think it was the letter Bud received that put all these things intohis head, do you?" said he, after a moment's reflection.
"You haven't any idea who wrote the letter or what else there was init?"
"No sah, I aint. I wish't I had, so't I could tell you."
"Bud Goble mentioned Dick's name and mine while he was threatening us,did he?" continued Marcy.
"He did for a fac'. I didn't hear him, kase I wasn't dar; but ElderBowen's niggah Sam was in de store when he 'buse de storekeeper, an' hewas at de house when he come dar an' 'buse de elder for a babolitionist.You-uns want look out, Marse Marcy. Dat man mean mischief, suah's youborn."
"Don't be uneasy," replied Marcy. "If Mr. Goble thinks he is going tocatch us napping, he will find himself mistaken. I should like to seehim and his friends come to this school and try to carry out theirthreats. There are plenty of Union boys among the students, parson."
"I'se suspicioned dat all along, sah, an' I'se mighty proud to hear yousay so; I is for a fac'. Dere's a few of 'em in de settle_ment_, butI'se mighty jubus what will happen to 'em when Marse Gobble gets on dewar-paf, like he say he gwine do. He say he gwine lick de las' one."
"Then it is high time he was put under lock and key," said Marcyindignantly. "I hope if he goes to Mr. Bowen's house the elder will turnloose on him with that double-barreled shotgun of his."
"He say dat's what he allow to do; but I dunno," replied the old negro,shaking his head and looking at the ground as if he felt that troubloustimes were coming upon the earth. "It's gwine be mighty hot about yer,an' I dunno what we niggahs gwine do. I wish dem babolitionists up Norfshet dere moufs an' luf we-uns be. Dey gwine get us in a peck oftrouble."
"And such fellows as Bud Goble seem perfectly willing to help it on,"said Marcy, whose indignation increased, the longer he dwelt upon thedetails of the story Toby had told him. "For two cents I would muster asquad and go down to his shanty and turn him out of doors. We'll dosomething of the kind if the authorities do not put a curb on him."
MARCY REFUSES TO TAKE CHARGE OF OLD TOBY'S MONEY.]
"But dey _hire_ him to do all dis meanness, Marse Marcy," exclaimed thenegro. "He 'longs to dat committee."
"Don't you believe any such stuff. It is likely that he is in the pay ofthat committee, and more shame to them, but he doesn't belong to it. Nowyou run away, parson, because--"
"Hol' on, please, sah," interrupted the old man. "I want ax your device.I got a little money--not much, but jes' a little" (here he pulled fromone of his capacious pockets a stocking filled half-way up the leg withsomething that must have been heavy, judging by the care he took inhandling it),--"an' I'm that skeared of havin' it in de house dat Ican't sleep. Marse Gobble 'lows to steal bacon an' taters of me now asoften as he gets hungry, an' de fust ting I know he ax me for dis money;den what I gwine do? Take keer on it for me, please, sah."
"Why, parson, you're rich," said Marcy, reaching through the fence and"hefting" the stocking in his hand. "Is this all silver? Where did youget so much?"
"I earn it ebery cent, an' sabe it, too," answered Toby, with some pridein his tones. "It's all mine, but I 'fraid I aint gwine be 'lowed tokeep it, now dat de wah comin'."
"I think myself that it will bring you trouble sooner or later. Youought never to have told anybody that you had it."
"Who? Me, sah? I never tol' de fust livin' soul in dis world. It gotround de quarter some way, I dunno how, an' some of dem fool niggahs hadto go an' blab it. Will you take keer on it for ole Toby, sah?"
"If I were going to stay in this part of the country I would do it in aminute," answered Marcy. "But I am liable to leave here at an hour'snotice, and what should I do with it if I did not have time to take itto your cabin? Give it to your master, and ask him to take care of itfor you."
"Oh, laws! Marse Riley secession de bigges' kind," exclaimed Toby, witha gesture which seemed that such a proposition was not to be entertainedfor a moment.
"No matter for that," replied Marcy. "He's honest, and what more do youwant? He is a kind master, the best friend you have in the world, andyou don't want to keep anything from him. Come to think of it, Iwouldn't take the money, even if I were going to stay here. Go to Mr.Riley with it."
"You won't take keer on it for de ole niggah?" said Toby, who was verymuch disappointed. "Den I reckon I'd best bury it somewhars in deground."
"You will surely lose it if you do that," protested Marcy. "Does BudGoble know you've got it? Well, if he gets after you, he'll thrash youtill you will be glad to tell where you have concealed it; but if youcan tell him that it is in Mr. Riley's hands, he'll not bother you orthe money, either. Now run along, parson. I see a uniform over thereamong the trees, and I shouldn't be surprised if the corporal was insideof it."
The old negro hastened into the woods, hiding the stocking somewhereabout his patched clothes as he went, and Marcy brought his piece to"support arms," and paced his beat while waiting for the corporal tocome up. It wasn't the corporal, after all, but a private like himself,who had come out to study his lesson and roll about on the grass. He didnot speak to the sentry, but he was so close to him that Marcy could nothave held any more private conversation with old Toby.
"It is nothing more than I expected," thought Marcy, recalling some ofthe incidents the negro had described to him. "Union men all over theSouth have been the victims of hotheaded secessionists, like those whocompose that Committee of Safety, and now we're going to have the samesort of work right here in our midst. I don't believe that Bud Goble hasorganized a company for the purpose of running Northern sympathizers outof the State; he said that just to frighten Toby and a few others. Butif he has, I hope he will bring them up here some night and try to takeDick Graham and me out of the building. I am glad those men had thecourage to defy him to his face, and wish I could have seen Bud aboutthe time the elder was walking him out of the yard."
It would seem from this that old Toby had told Marcy some things we donot know, and that Bud Goble's plans were not working as smoothly as hecould have wished. Let us return to Bud and see where he was and what hehad been doing since he took leave of his wife in the morning.
He left home with a light heart and a pocketful of bullets, and took ashort cut through the woods toward Barrington. A few of the bullets wereto be expended upon such unwary small game as might chance to come inhis way, and with the rest, if circumstances seemed to require it,intended to make a show of being ready for business. He struck astraight course for the little grocery and dry-goods store, at which hehad for years been an occasional customer, and thought himself fortunateto find the proprietor in. He was busy dusting the counter, but he wasnot alone. There were three or four others present, and when we tell youthat they were Bud Goble's intimate friends, you will know just whatsort of men they were.
"Mornin'," said Bud cheerfully. "Famblies all well? Mine's only jesttol'able, thank ye. What's the news?"
"There aint none," was the reply from one, to which the others allassented. "Are there any with you?"
"Well," said Bud slowly, at the same time edging around so that he couldkeep an eye on the storekeeper and note the effect his words producedupon him. "I don't rightly know what you-uns call news. I reckon you-unsheared that I was workin' for that Committee of Safety, didn't you?"
They had heard something of it in a roundabout way. Was there any moneyin the job, and what was he expected to do?
"There's a little money into it," answered Bud. "Jest about enough topay me for my time an' trouble, but no more. I've gin some of themloud-talkin' folks, who think a nig
ger is as good as a white man, noticethat they had best cl'ar outen the 'Federacy before they are drove out,an' go up to the United States among them that believe as they do."
"An' it sarves 'em jest right," observed one of Bud's friends, helpinghimself to a handful of crackers. "I'd like to see the last one of 'emchucked out bag an' baggage. But s'pose they wont go?"
"I'm hopin' they wont, for that's where the fun'll come in. That'll givewe-uns--"
Just at this moment Bud was interrupted by the entrance of "ElderBowen's nigger Sam," who removed his hat respectfully and kept on to thecounter where the storekeeper was at work. Bud and his friends listenedand heard him say:
"I aint got no change dis mawnin', Mr. Bailey, but--"
"That's all right, Sam," Mr. Bailey hastened to reply. "You are anhonest workingman, and your credit is good. What did you say you wanted?A dress and a pair of shoes for your old woman? Well, how will thesesuit you?"
"Dog-gone the nigger, why didn't he keep away a little longer?"whispered Bud. "Them's the very things I wanted, an' mebbe ole manBailey won't want to trust two fellers at once."
"Then lick him," suggested one of his friends. "He's nobody but ababolitionist, anyway."
"That's what I allow to do," answered Bud.
When the negro had received the goods he asked for, he leaned againstthe counter as if he were in no particular hurry to go away. This suitedBud, who drawled, in lazy tones:
"Yes; I've warned some of them nigger-lovers that they aint wanted hereno longer'n it'll take 'em to get out, but I am hopin' they won't leave,kase that's where the fun'll come in. I'm gettin' up a company ofminute-men to sorter patrol the kentry hereabouts, an' them that don'tdo to please us we are goin' to lick, niggers _an_' whites. We jest aintgoin' to have no more talkin' agin the 'Federacy, an' them that's forthe North kin go up there. That's what the committee says. Will you-unsjine?"
Of course they would, to a man, and they would like nothing better. Theywere ready at any time to prove their devotion to the Confederacy bythrashing or hanging everybody, white _and_ black, who did not believethat secession and disunion were the best things that could happen forthe South. Then Bud, seeing that he had plenty of backing, waxedeloquent and made a short but stirring speech. He dwelt upon the wrongsand insults that had been heaped upon the Southern States ever sincethey had shown themselves foolish enough to join the Union; denied thata black man was as good as a white gentleman; loudly proclaimed that allNortherners, as well as those who thought as they did, were cowards;denounced as traitors all Southern men who did not shout for PresidentDavis, and said they ought and must be whipped out of the country; andthrough it all he kept watch of the two at the counter to see whatimpression his patriotic words made upon them.
Mr. Bailey was a little man who carried the weight of sixty-five yearsupon his shoulders, and Bud talked for his especial benefit, hoping tofrighten him into compliance with the demands he was about to make uponhim. Mr. Bailey was opposed to secession, and never hesitated to say sowhen politics came up for discussion, as they often did among hiscustomers; but Bud was sure the old fellow was frightened now. He didnot say a word in reply, but used his brush with more energy, and nowand then rapped the counter with the back of it; and these, Bud thought,were unmistakable signs of timidity or, at least, nervousness.
As for darkey Sam, there was no doubting the impression Bud's eloquencemade upon him. He was greatly terrified, for he remembered that hismaster had once denounced secession from the pulpit, and told themembers of his congregation just what they might make up their minds toendure if it were consummated. Possibly Bud Goble recalled thecircumstance, for he looked very hard at Sam while he was talking. Assoon as the speech was brought to a close Sam sidled along toward thedoor, looking into the show-cases as he went, and presently foundhimself safe on the porch. Then he clapped his hat on his head andstarted for home post-haste.
"I reckon he's gwine tell the parson what you said," exclaimed one ofBud's friends. "Well, I do think Elder Bowen is one of the dangerousestmen in the whole kentry, an' that he'd oughter be snatched outen thatchurch of his'n before he has time to preach up any more of them pizendocterings. Warned him yet?"
"No; but I allow to do it soon's I get through with my business yer,"replied Bud, throwing his rifle into the hollow of his arm, andsauntering up to the counter where Mr. Bailey stood. He affected acareless, confident swagger, which was by no means indicative of hisfeelings. Now that he could look closely at him he found that thestorekeeper wasn't frightened enough, and that his speech had notaccomplished half as much as he meant to have it. "You don't seem to beright peart this mornin'," he continued. "What's the matter of ye?"
"Nothing whatever," answered Mr. Bailey. "I'm as gay as a lark.Something wanted?"
"I reckon," replied Bud. "I want the same things you gin that therenigger a minute ago--a dress an' a pair of shoes for my ole woman."
"Got any money to pay for 'em?"
"Not jest this minute, but I shall have plenty this evening, an' thenmebbe I'll--"
"Can't help it," said Mr. Bailey, shaking his head.
"Wont you trust me?"
"No, I won't. I told you so the other day, and when I say a thing ofthat sort I mean it."
"Do you give credit to a nigger before my face an' eyes, an' then refuseit to a white gentleman?" shouted Bud. "What do you do that-a-way for?"
"I run my business to suit myself," answered Mr. Bailey, without theleast show of irritation. "If you don't like it, go somewhere else withyour trade. I don't want it, any way."
"You think a nigger better'n a white man, do ye?" yelled Bud, growingred in the face. "What do you say to that, boys? Look a here," he added."Mebbe you don't know who I am. I've got the power an' the will, too, toturn you houseless an' homeless into the street before you see the sunrise agin."
"I'll make moonlight shine through you while you are doing it," said theold man boldly.
"You will?" Bud brought his fist down upon the counter with tremendousforce, and then he dived down into his pocket and brought out a handfulof bullets, which he placed before the storekeeper. "Do you see them? Iwant to warn ye that they was molded a-purpose to be shot into traitorslike yerself; an' I brung 'em along to show ye--"
"Take 'em off the counter. I've just dusted it," interrupted Mr. Bailey;and with the words he hit the bullets a blow with his brush that sentthem in every direction.
Bud Goble was astounded, and so were his friends, who had never dreamedthat there was so much spirit in that little, dried-up man. The formerlooked at him a moment, and then he looked at the bullets that wererolling about on the floor.
"Come around yer an' pick 'em up, the very last one of 'em, an' say yersorry ye done it, an' that you'll never do the like agin, or I'll takeye up by the heels an' mop the floor with ye," said Bud, in savagetones. "Come a-lumberin'."
"Pick 'em up yourself, and next time keep 'em off my counter," was Mr.Bailey's answer. "What did you put them there for, any way?"
A glance at his friends showed Bud that they expected him to dosomething, and he dared not hesitate. He handed the nearest man hisrifle to hold for him, peeled off his coat, gave a yell that was heard ablock away, and was about to jump up and knock his heels together, whenhe happened to look toward Mr. Bailey, and stopped as if he had beenfrozen in his tracks. The old man was waiting for him. He leaned againsta shelf behind the counter, but he held a cocked revolver in his hand.
MR. BAILEY ASTONISHES BUD GOBLE.]
True To His Colors Page 8