True To His Colors

"Seen Marcy during roll-call?" he inquired.

No one had. Didn't he answer to his name?

"No, he did not," replied Rodney, hastily scanning the faces of the students that filed by him on their way out of the court. "Somebody answered 'here,' but it wasn't Marcy. The sergeant must know where he is, for he reported the company present or accounted for."

"Doesn't that go to show that Marcy and the chap who answered to his name, as well as the sergeant himself, must be in some sort of a plot?" inquired Billings.

"I'll bet they are on the tower," declared Rodney. "Let's go up there, quick."

Rodney's friends did not at first see what Marcy could be doing on the tower, for had not Dick Graham assured them that the flag was all right, and that they would never see it hoisted again? But if Marcy suspected that his Cousin Rodney would make an effort to run up his new Confederate flag in place of the Stars and Stripes, might it not be that he and a chosen squad had taken possession of the tower, intending to hold it so that Rodney could not carry out his design? If that was the case there was bound to be a struggle more or less desperate, and Rodney's adherents would be expected to be on hand; so they followed him to the top of the tower, but halted when they got there, astonished and appalled at the scene that was presented to their gaze. The cousins were clinched and swaying about in alarming proximity to the low parapet, over which they were in imminent danger of falling to the ground; the sentry on duty was vainly endeavoring to part them by placing his musket between the struggling boys and crowding them toward the middle of the tower; and Marcy Gray was clinging to the halliards leading up to the masthead, from which the starry flag was floating in all its glory. It was not the old flag, however, but a newer and better one, whose glossy folds had never before been kissed by the breeze.

"Stop this!" shouted Cole, recovering himself by an effort and darting forward to assist in separating the angry and reckless boys. "Haven't you any sense left? A misstep on the part of one would be the death of both of you. Don't you know that the academy is four stories high, and that the tower runs up one story higher? Let go, Rodney. Give me those halliards, Marcy."

"Stand back, both of you!" cried the latter. "I'd rather go over than give up the halliards. If I had two hands I would very soon end the fracas, but I haven't a friend to hold the ropes while I defend myself."

Perhaps he hadn't when he began speaking, but a second or two later he had plenty of them. Hasty steps sounded in the hall below and came up the ladder, and in less time than it takes to write it the top of the tower was covered with boys. The last one who came up turned about and slammed down the trap-door through which he had gained access to the roof. It was Dixon, the tall student who had compelled the orderly to fold the flag properly, and who afterward told Dick Graham right where to find it. Being a Kentuckian, he was just now "on the fence," and ready to jump either way, according as his State decided to go out of the Union or remain in it. He was opposed to secession, and that being the case, it was strange that he should afterward find himself enrolled among John Morgan's raiders, but that was right where he brought up. Although he was a close student, a good soldier, and one of the best fellows that ever lived withal, he was at any time ready for a fight or a frolic, and it didn't make any great difference to him which it was.

"Now," said he cheerfully, as he closed the trap-door behind him, "we can have a quiet squabble and no one can come up to interfere with us. But look here, boys," he added, stepping to the parapet and looking over. "It's a mighty far ways to the ground – five stories or so – and if you go down, you will be sure to get hurt. On the whole, I think we had better adjourn for a while."

Rodney knew just how to take these words. Like that notice in the post-office, "there was reading between the lines." Seeing that he and his friends were taken at disadvantage and greatly outnumbered, he thought it best to handle his cousin with a little less rudeness; but he would not cease his efforts to pull down that hated flag and hoist his own Stars and Bars until he was compelled to do so. He let go his hold upon his cousin and seized the halliards.

"Never mind the relationship," he yelled, when Marcy said that if Rodney were not his cousin he would be tempted to thrash him within an inch of his life. "I am more ashamed of it than you can possibly be. Let go those halliards."

"Looks as though there might be a slight difference of opinion between the parties most interested, and there's no telling who is Governor until after the election," said Dixon quietly. "But I respectfully submit that the top of a high tower is no place to settle a dispute that may end in a scrimmage. We don't want to begin killing one another until we have to, and there are two ways in which the matter can be arranged: Wait until after dark, and then go silently to the parade and have it over before anybody knows a thing about it, or else kiss and make friends right here."

Dick Graham, who had thus far kept himself on the other side of the belfry out of sight, broke into a loud laugh when Dixon, speaking with the utmost gravity, made the last proposition. Dick had a cheery, wholehearted laugh, and the effect was contagious. The laugh became general and finally such an uproar arose that the students at the foot of the tower, who had been watching proceedings on the top with no little interest and anxiety, pulled off their caps and joined in with cheers and yells, although they had not the faintest idea what they were cheering and yelling for. Marcy smiled good-naturedly as he looked into his cousin's face, but Rodney scowled as fiercely as ever. When anything made him angry it took him a long time to get over it. He was almost ready to boil over with rage when he caught his cousin in the act of hoisting a brand new flag in place of the one that had been stolen, and if his friends had only been prompt to hasten to his support, he would have torn that flag into fragments in short order. But they had held back and given Marcy's friends time to come to his assistance, and now there was no hope of victory. This made him believe that the boys who pretended to side with him were cowards, the last one of them.

"If I will give you the halliards, will you promise not to haul the colors down?" asked Marcy, who had no heart for trouble of this sort.

"I'll promise nothing," answered Rodney, in savage tones. "You and your gang have the advantage of me this time, but it will not be so when next we meet. Mark that."

"Hear, hear!" cried some of the boys.

"You shut up!" shouted Rodney. "You fellows are mighty ready to talk, but I would like to see you do something. As for you, Marcy, you are a traitor to your State. Let go those halliards."

"I'll not do it. Your ancestors and mine have fought under this flag ever since it has been a flag, and if I can help it, you shall not be the first of our name to haul it down."

"But that flag does not belong up there any longer, and I say, and we all say, that it shall not stay there. Here's our banner," exclaimed Rodney, and as he spoke he drew the Stars and Bars from under his coat and shook out its folds. "It's a much handsomer flag than yours, and if there's a war coming, as some of you seem to think, it will lead us to victory on every battle-field."

The sight of the Confederate emblem seemed to arouse a little martial spirit among Rodney Gray's friends. They cheered it lustily, and Rodney began to hope that they would make energetic and determined effort to run it up; but they lacked the courage. The disgusted Rodney told them in language more forcible than elegant that they were nothing but a lot of wind-bags.

"Sentry, you were stationed here to protect that flag," said Marcy, as he made the halliards fast to a cleat beside the door leading into the belfry.

"Are you officer of the day?" demanded the guard. "Then you are taking a good deal upon yourself when you presume to tell me what my duties are. Go below, the last one of you, or I will call the corporal."

"That is what you would have done long ago if you had been a good soldier, but I reckon he's coming without waiting to be called," observed Dixon, as an imperious knock, followed by the command to "open up here, immediately," was heard at the trapdoor. "Now, Rodney, don't let's have any more nonsense over the flag."

"I shall do as I please about that, and you can't help yourself," replied Rodney. "I'll settle the matter with you on the parade tonight, if you feel in the humor. That flag shall not float over this school with my consent."

"Then I am sorry to say that it will have to float without your consent. It will be time enough to make war upon it when the North makes war on us; and you will get plenty of that, I bet you. Now let's have a look at our friend below, who seems to be in something of a hurry to come up, and then we'll go down and attend to the business of the hour, which, I believe, means breakfast."

So saying Dixon raised the trap-door, revealing the flushed and excited faces of the commandant and officer of the day, who were most respectfully saluted when they entered the belfry.

CHAPTER VII

OLD TOBY'S MONEY

"Young gentlemen, what is the meaning of this new outrage?" demanded the colonel angrily.

"A tussle over the flag, sir," replied Dixon, standing very stiffly and raising his hand to his cap. "The old one having mysteriously disappeared, it became necessary to hoist a new one, sir."

Of course the commandant knew long before this time that the colors had been taken from his bureau, and he knew, also, that the theft had been committed under cover of that sham fight in the hall; but he did not say a word about it. To be candid, he did not think it would be good policy to try to sift the matter to the bottom, for fear of implicating some profitable student whom he could not afford to expel. Being proprietor of the school, he desired to keep it intact as long as he could.

"And during the tussle two of your number came very near being precipitated to the ground," exclaimed the colonel. "I shall put a stop to this insubordination if I have to order the whole school into the guard-house."

"Very good, sir," answered the boys.

"Go downstairs, all of you," commanded the officer of the day. "Sergeant

Rodney and Private Marcy Gray, report to me at once."

The students hastened down the ladder, wondering what was to be the result of this "new outrage." When they reached the hall one of them said, 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 one to be hoisted in its place."

"There's where you are wrong," exclaimed Marcy promptly. "Dick had nothing whatever to do with it, and when he saw this new flag, he was as much surprised as the rest of you were. I have had it concealed in my room 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 you do not expect me to mention her name. She is true to her colors, and that's more than can be said in favor of you fellows who would have hauled it down if you had possessed the pluck."

"That was well put in, Marcy," said Rodney. "There isn't pluck enough among the whole lot of them to fit out a good-sized cat. If the Yankees should come down here, they could drive an army of such fellows with nothing 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 angry they couldn't laugh. If that dread functionary, the officer of the day, heard the uproar, he must have thought that the culprits who had been commanded to report to him did not take their prospective punishment very much to heart.

Of course the boys who remained below were impatient to hear all about the things that had happened in and around the belfry, and to know what was going to be done with Rodney and his cousin. But the last was a point upon which no one could enlighten them, not even the cousins themselves when they came from the presence of the officer of the day, who had given them a stern reprimand and a warning. Being from Louisiana himself, and having offered his services to her in case they should be required, he bore down upon Marcy harder than he did upon Rodney, and even went so far as to try and convince the North Carolina boy that the word "traitor," which had so often been applied to him by his schoolmates, was deserved and appropriate. But Marcy could not look at it that way, and even in the presence of the man who could have shut him up 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 trouble in 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 to run over him. The colonel had said, in so many words, that the flag was to be hoisted every morning until further orders; and in hoisting a new one in the place of the one that had disappeared, he had not broken any rule. The officer knew that to be true, and as he could not punish one without punishing the other also, he was obliged to let them both go scot-free; but he detained Rodney a moment to whisper a word of caution to him.

"Don't let this thing be repeated," said he earnestly. "I think just as you do, and if I could have my own way, your flag would now be waving on the tower; but it is my duty to obey orders, and it is your duty as well. Don't make another move until this State joins the Confederacy, and then there will be no one to oppose you. The hoisting of another flag 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 our heads 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 being the head of the school, he can't back us up as he would like to. But then this will keep," he added, once more shaking out his flag, which he had all the while carried under his arm. "I was afraid the teachers would take it away from me, but as they didn't, we'll hold ourselves in readiness to run it up when the other is ordered down."

But the incidents of the morning, exciting as they were, did not long monopolize the attention of the students, or remain the principal subjects of discussion. They were forgotten the minute the mail was distributed, for of course their papers contained news from all parts, and the boys made it their business to keep posted. There was one thing the papers had already begun to do that excited derisive laughter among all the sensible boys in school. They called dispatches from the North "Foreign Intelligence." But there were some, like Rodney Gray, who could not see that that was anything to laugh at, and following the lead of their favorite journals in politics, they soon learned to follow their vocabulary 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 other members of his company who had been warned for duty, and marched to the parade-ground to go through the ceremony of guard-mounting. Immediately after that he went on post in a remote part of the grounds, a favorite place with the sentries on hot summer days, for the woods on the other side came close up to the fence, and the trees threw a grateful shade over the beat. The only order the boy he relieved had to pass, was a simple as well as a useless one. It was to "keep his eye peeled for that fence and not permit anybody to climb over it"; but Marcy listened as though he meant to obey it. Then the relief passed on, and he was left alone with his thoughts, which, considering the incidents connected with that 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 on the other side of the fence, and presently discovered old Toby looking at him over a fallen log. A smile of genuine joy and relief overspread the black man's features when he saw who the vigilant sentry was, and he immediately got upon his feet and came to the fence.

"The top of the morning to you, parson," said Marcy pleasantly. "You act as 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 you down 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 a smile. "But how are we going to get into trouble? Talk fast, for I have no business to hold any communication whatever with you."

"Dat white trash, Bud Gobble; he's de man," began Toby. "You an' Marse Dick done sont him into de woods to look for de way to dat underground railroad – "

Marcy leaned upon his musket, threw back his head, and laughed heartily but silently, for he did not want to bring the corporal of the guard down 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' now dat man gwine tote you bofe out in de woods an' lick you like he was de oberseer an' you two de niggahs."

When Marcy heard this he did not know whether to laugh again or get angry over it. As time was precious he did neither, but began questioning Toby, who told a story that made the boy open his eyes. When it was concluded the fact was plain to Marcy that somebody had been trying to get him and Dick Graham into trouble; but who could it be? He knew that he had been airing his Union sentiments rather freely, but he wasn't aware that he had made any enemies by it. He wished the hour for his relief would hasten its coming, so that he might compare notes with Dick.

"You think it was the letter Bud received that put all these things into his head, do you?" said he, after a moment's reflection.

"You haven't any idea who wrote the letter or what else there was in it?"

"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 Elder Bowen's niggah Sam was in de store when he 'buse de storekeeper, an' he was 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 you born."

"Don't be uneasy," replied Marcy. "If Mr. Goble thinks he is going to catch us napping, he will find himself mistaken. I should like to see him and his friends come to this school and try to carry out their threats. There are plenty of Union boys among the students, parson."

"I'se suspicioned dat all along, sah, an' I'se mighty proud to hear you say so; I is for a fac'. Dere's a few of 'em in de settle_ment_, but I'se mighty jubus what will happen to 'em when Marse Gobble gets on de war-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 Marcy indignantly. "I hope if he goes to Mr. Bowen's house the elder will turn loose 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 troublous times 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 Norf shet dere moufs an' luf we-uns be. Dey gwine get us in a peck of trouble."

"And such fellows as Bud Goble seem perfectly willing to help it on," said Marcy, whose indignation increased, the longer he dwelt upon the details of the story Toby had told him. "For two cents I would muster a squad and go down to his shanty and turn him out of doors. We'll do something of the kind if the authorities do not put a curb on him."

"But dey hire him to do all dis meanness, Marse Marcy," exclaimed the negro. "He 'longs to dat committee."

"Don't you believe any such stuff. It is likely that he is in the pay of that committee, and more shame to them, but he doesn't belong to it. Now you 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 from one of his capacious pockets a stocking filled half-way up the leg with something that must have been heavy, judging by the care he took in handling it), – "an' I'm that skeared of havin' it in de house dat I can't sleep. Marse Gobble 'lows to steal bacon an' taters of me now as often 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 you get so much?"

"I earn it ebery cent, an' sabe it, too," answered Toby, with some pride in his tones. "It's all mine, but I 'fraid I aint gwine be 'lowed to keep it, now dat de wah comin'."

"I think myself that it will bring you trouble sooner or later. You ought never to have told anybody that you had it."

"Who? Me, sah? I never tol' de fust livin' soul in dis world. It got round de quarter some way, I dunno how, an' some of dem fool niggahs had to 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 a minute," answered Marcy. "But I am liable to leave here at an hour's notice, and what should I do with it if I did not have time to take it to your cabin? Give it to your master, and ask him to take care of it for you."

"Oh, laws! Marse Riley secession de bigges' kind," exclaimed Toby, with a gesture which seemed that such a proposition was not to be entertained for a moment.

"No matter for that," replied Marcy. "He's honest, and what more do you want? He is a kind master, the best friend you have in the world, and you don't want to keep anything from him. Come to think of it, I wouldn'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 very much disappointed. "Den I reckon I'd best bury it somewhars in de ground."

"You will surely lose it if you do that," protested Marcy. "Does Bud Goble know you've got it? Well, if he gets after you, he'll thrash you till you will be glad to tell where you have concealed it; but if you can tell him that it is in Mr. Riley's hands, he'll not bother you or the money, either. Now run along, parson. I see a uniform over there among the trees, and I shouldn't be surprised if the corporal was inside of it."

The old negro hastened into the woods, hiding the stocking somewhere about his patched clothes as he went, and Marcy brought his piece to "support arms," and paced his beat while waiting for the corporal to come 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 did not speak to the sentry, but he was so close to him that Marcy could not have held any more private conversation with old Toby.

"It is nothing more than I expected," thought Marcy, recalling some of the incidents the negro had described to him. "Union men all over the South have been the victims of hotheaded secessionists, like those who compose that Committee of Safety, and now we're going to have the same sort of work right here in our midst. I don't believe that Bud Goble has organized a company for the purpose of running Northern sympathizers out of the State; he said that just to frighten Toby and a few others. But if he has, I hope he will bring them up here some night and try to take Dick Graham and me out of the building. I am glad those men had the courage to defy him to his face, and wish I could have seen Bud about the time the elder was walking him out of the yard."