CHAPTER V.
BREEZY PROSPECT AHEAD.
I am not quite sure that Major Toppleton did not know the Wimpletonians had selected the Horse Shoe for their camp ground, and that a collision was likely to occur between the students of the rival academies. If he did know it, he was certainly to blame, even though the Toppletonians had legal possession of the land; for a man is morally responsible far beyond the letter of the law. It was plain enough to me that the wire-pullers on our side had selected the Horse Shoe simply because it was the usual encampment of their rivals.
The Toppletonians were highly excited and intensely belligerent. The jealousy between the two sides of the lake and between the two schools had thoroughly infected them. There were only a few who were not ready to fight for the banner under which they marched. While I confess that I was to some extent a partisan for the Toppletonians, I could not help feeling that there was something undignified and unmanly in this senseless quarrel. I could realize this sentiment, even while I was anxious that the Wimpletonians should not “get ahead” of our side. I was not in love with Colonel Wimpleton and his son, but I should have preferred to treat them with dignified contempt, rather than pick a quarrel with them.
The Wimpletonians had a whole fleet of boats, including the dozen or more that belonged to the Institute, and several bateaux, loaded with tents and baggage. The wind was light early in the day, and as they had to sail a dozen miles before they reached their destination, they were not likely to arrive at the island before us. Major Toppleton had ordered the tug steamer to be at Grass Springs to convey the students to the Horse Shoe, and she had towed a number of boats for the use of the battalion.
“We must hurry up, Wolf,” said Faxon, who, as usual, was on the engine with me, after glancing at the aquatic procession on the lake.
“It will take the Wimps three hours to reach the Horse Shoe with this breeze,” I replied. “Our party will arrive in an hour.”
“There may be some delay at the Springs. We don’t know that the steamer will be there when we arrive.”
“Didn’t Major Toppleton send her to the Springs?” I asked, not being aware that there was any contingency.
“He sent her to Ucayga last night with a freight of flour, and told Captain Underwood to be at Grass Springs at eight o’clock, if possible. She may be late. She did not leave Middleport till dark, and of course she must discharge her cargo this morning. If there should be no steamer ready for us, what shall we do?”
“Where are our boats?” I inquired.
“I suppose Captain Underwood left them at the wharf at the Springs, as he passed, or possibly at the Horse Shoe. I only know what Tommy told me, just before we started.”
“There is a chance for a slip, after all,” I added.
“I think there is a big chance for a slip. If the Wimps get to the island first, there will be a big fight, for our fellows don’t wish for any better fun than driving them off.”
“And perhaps the Wimps would like no better fun than that of driving the Tops off.”
“Possession is nine points, you know, and the side which gets a footing on the island first has the best chance,” replied Faxon, cheerfully; and though he did not bluster so much as some others, I knew that he was “ready to go his length” in opposition to the enemy.
“It looks like a fight, any way you can fix it,” I added. “Why couldn’t our fellows have chosen some other place to encamp?”
“Because the Horse Shoe suits them best. There is a good wharf at the island, and plenty of dry wood for the fires.”
“I don’t see the use of quarrelling when there are a hundred other places just as good as that.”
“What’s the matter, Wolf? Have you no stomach for a fight?” laughed Faxon.
“No; I have not.”
“But you are regarded by the fellows as a regular fighting-cock. Your affairs with Waddie and with--” Faxon checked himself, as he glanced at Lewis Holgate, the fireman--“you know whom, are the foundation of your popularity with them.”
“I am willing to fight in a good cause; but I don’t believe in bringing on a quarrel.”
“The Wimps are always picking upon us, and doing us mischief whenever they can. They have torn up our track once, and we haven’t paid them off for that.”
“You sunk all their boats for that; and I think you are about even.”
“Not quite; but if they will let us alone, we won’t meddle with them. We have hired the Horse Shoe for the week, and we mean to have it. We have the legal right to the island, and we are ready to fight for possession.”
“I think it is all nonsense to quarrel for nothing.”
“We shall have the fun of licking them.”
“Or the fun of being licked,” I suggested.
“No danger of that. We have one hundred and fifteen students now, and I was told that the Wimps had fallen off to less than a hundred,” chuckled Faxon.
“The tables may be turned by and by, when the colonel’s plans are in operation.”
“What plans?” asked my companion, anxiously.
“You did not suppose Colonel Wimpleton would permit this railroad scheme to go on without doing something to offset it--did you?” I replied; and I had received some positive information from my father, the night before, on this interesting topic.
“What can he do? He can’t build a railroad on his side of the lake.”
“No; but at this moment Waddie Wimpleton is the president of a corporation.”
“What corporation?”
“A steamboat company.”
“Is that so?”
“My father was over at Centreport yesterday, and found out all about it.”
“But what have the Wimps to do with it?”
“The colonel is building a magnificent little steamer at Hitaca. She is to be very long and narrow, and good for fifteen to eighteen miles an hour. The Institute fellows on the other side are to own and manage her, just as you do the railroad.”
“That is news, certainly,” said Faxon, musing, and apparently not at all pleased with the plan.
“They say Major Toppleton has bought up the steamers which now run on the lake, and means to take them off between Ucayga and Middleport as soon as the Lake Shore Railroad is completed.”
“Of course; what’s the use of having the boats after the road is finished? We are to run a LIGHTNING EXPRESS twice a day then, and I think it is very good-natured of the major to buy up the boats, and thus save the owners from loss.”
“Perhaps it is; but is it good-natured for him to deprive the Centreporters of the means of getting to Ucayga, as he will when the boats are taken off?”
“They can go by the railroad, the same as others,” laughed Faxon.
“They can, but they won’t. Do you think Colonel Wimpleton would come over here and ride in these cars? He would hang himself first.”
“Then he can hang himself, if he likes. The Middleporters wouldn’t cry if he did.”
“But he intends neither to hang himself nor to ride on the Lake Shore Railroad. Of course you can’t blame him for kicking against the movements of the major.”
“See here, Wolf; are you a Wimp or a Top?” demanded Faxon, coloring a little, as we looked into each other’s face.
“Why do you ask that question?” I inquired, quietly.
“Just now you seemed to stick up for the Wimpleton side.”
“I was only stating the case just as it is. My sympathies are on this side; but I don’t blame Colonel Wimpleton for not being willing to have his facilities for going to and from Ucayga cut off.”
“You don’t blame him!”
“Certainly not.”
“I believe you are only half a Top now, Wolf. Just now you were condemning us for standing up for our own rights. Be on one side or the other, old fellow.”
“I am willing to fight for the side that gives me bread and butter, as long as it stands by the right.”
“I don’t like this making reservations. I go the whole figure. My country, right or wrong--that’s what I go for.”
“So do I. My country, right or wrong; if wrong, to set her right.”
“There you spoil all the poetry of the thing. If you had stopped before you put the last sentence on, it would have been just the thing. I go for Toppleton, right or wrong.”
“I don’t,” I replied, decidedly. “I am for keeping Toppleton right, and then I go for Toppleton.”
“What’s the use of talking, Wolf! You can’t make me believe you are not right on the goose,” added Faxon, good-naturedly. “When will that magnificent steamer be launched?”
“I don’t know; but father said the hull was nearly completed. I suppose they can’t get her ready for service before August or September; perhaps not till next spring.”
“And then she is to run in opposition to the Lake Shore Railroad?”
“That’s the idea, I believe.”
“There will be jolly times then; but she can’t do anything against our lightning express.”
“I’m not so sure of that.”
“Come, Wolf! You are a Wimp at heart, after all. The fellows would mob you if they should hear you sticking up for the other side,” added Faxon.
“I’m not sticking up for the other side,” I replied, smartly, for I did not relish this charge. “I’m only looking the facts fair in the face. The Wimps’ steamer will give you a hard run. Look at it for yourself.”
“I don’t believe the Wimps can get ahead of us, any how--I won’t believe it!” persisted Faxon.
“How far is it from Middleport to Ucayga?” I asked.
“Twenty miles, to a rod.”
“How long will it take the lightning express to go through?”
“Half an hour,” replied Faxon, sharply.
“Not much! We should have a smash every day at that rate. The track is not stiff enough to make that time upon. Call it forty minutes; and that is high speed for this light rail.”
“Well, forty minutes. You don’t mean to say any steamer can make twenty miles in that time?”
“Hold on a minute! How wide is the river at Ucayga?”
“Half a mile.”
“Good; we have to land our passengers on this side of the river. To take the trains east and west, they must cross the river, and do the same when they visit the town. How long will that take in the old sail-boat ferry?”
“I don’t know,” replied Faxon, nettled by the force of the argument, which he could not answer.
“Half an hour, at least, on an average. That will make an hour and ten minutes; and the steamer will do it in an hour and a quarter. I think the colonel has a pretty good show,” I continued, as the train reached Spangleport, and I blew some desperate whistles to warn idlers about the track.
“You are a Wimp!”
“No. I’m a Top.”
“Don’t talk so before the other fellows. If you do they will think you have sold out to the enemy.”
“Can’t a fellow express an honest opinion?” I asked, warmly.
“Not when it don’t jibe with the public sentiment.”
“I don’t know about that. I’m not afraid to tell Major Toppleton what I think.”
“Don’t you do it.”
“If he wants to come out ahead, as of course he does, it would be better for him to look the facts and contingencies fairly in the face.”
Faxon was thinking of the matter, and by mutual consent both of us were silent.