CHAPTER VII.

MAJOR TOMMY GETS MAD.

Though I was nominally sent to the Horse Shoe as an ambassador of peace, I fully understood the real object of the magnate in giving me a vacation. The mission was certainly complimentary to me, for I was really expected to do the “engineering” for the Toppletonians. I was not to permit them to be whipped by their great enemy: if I could not prevent it myself, I was to call in the assistance of Major Toppleton. Whatever instructions he may have given me, this was precisely what he meant. I was, in some sense, to be his representative.

I desired to keep the peace, and I hoped to have influence enough to accomplish something in this direction; but it would not be an easy matter to do this, and at the same time escape the wrath of the belligerent Toppletonians. The Wimpleton battalion, under command of Major Waddie, would be ten times as reckless as the Toppletonians under Major Tommy. My late enemy on the other side was not restrained either by fear or by principle. No violence or destruction appalled him. His father had so often paid for damage done by him, that he never hesitated to gratify his malice and revenge by smashing a boat, firing a building, or even discharging his pistol at any one who thwarted him. He was a dangerous enemy. But Waddie was reckless only when he was personally in a safe position. He was prudent enough to keep his own body out of the way of harm, except when his wrath completely mastered him.

Lewis Holgate was glad enough of an opportunity to run the dummy alone, for it would enable him to prove his fitness for the position to which he aspired. I cautioned him carefully in regard to keeping up the water in the boiler, and the pressure of steam he might carry. He was very passive and tractable, and, for the sake of his own reputation, I had no doubt he would be faithful and careful in the discharge of his duty.

When I arrived at Grass Springs in the dummy, the steamer was just approaching the wharf. The company sent over to the island under Captain Briscoe had landed, and thus far had held peaceful possession. The Horse Shoe was the most western of four islands, just below Ruoara. The two largest of them lay east and west of each other, while the one to the north of them was called the North Shoe, and the one to the south the South Shoe. They bore some resemblance to shoes; and the western island having a bay which made into its southern side, gave it the shape of a horse shoe. The eastern island, and the nearest to the shore, looked more like a pistol than either of the others did like the articles for which they were named. But the person who had christened the group, having probably named the others first, calling each a shoe, designated the fourth the “Shooter,” instead of the Pistol, which would have been more appropriate. “Shoe” and “Shooter” seemed to jingle well with him, and, as he was satisfied, I shall not complain.

The squadron of boats from Centreport lay between the Horse Shoe and the South Shoe when I came upon the ground. So far as I could judge by seeing them at the distance of two miles, the Wimpletonians were consulting upon their next movement. If they intended to take possession of the island, they had permitted the favorable opportunity to pass. Doubtless they were also waiting for the arrival of the bateaux, on which their baggage was transported.

“Has anything happened?” I asked of Faxon, as I joined the students on the wharf.

“Not a thing!” exclaimed he. “The Wimps smell a mice, and don’t seem to be inclined to pitch in. If I had been Waddie Wimpleton, I would have landed on that island before this time.”

Faxon appeared to be disappointed because the row had not come off, and more, perhaps, because the Wimpletonians did not display a belligerent spirit. The steamer came up to the wharf, and the students embarked. Major Tommy stormed at Captain Underwood for his delay, and the poor captain defended himself very modestly and gently. He had discharged his cargo as speedily as possible, and he had not been told to be at the Springs at eight, but as soon as he could. His bread and butter depended upon keeping the right side of the magnate, and to prejudice the son was to influence the father.

“What are you doing here, Wolf?” asked Tommy, as he saw me standing on the forward deck, after the steamer started.

“Your father has just given me a vacation,” I replied, very quietly; for I did not deem it prudent to put on any airs about my mission. “I thought I would come over and see how this thing was coming out.”

“It’s coming out all right, Wolf. What did my father say?” asked the little major, with some show of anxiety. “Was he mad because we came away so early?”

“O, no! I told him where you were going, and that the Wimps were bound to the same place. He was very glad you had obtained permission of the owner to use the island.”

“Then it is all right--is it, Wolf?” added Tommy, with an apparent feeling of relief. “I didn’t know but my governor sent you here as a spy. If he did, you can return as fast as you came.”

Perhaps, according to Tommy’s interpretation of my mission, I might be a spy. I had really been sent to act as a check upon the students, who were very jealous of any interference when they were on camp duty, or any other military service. The steamer sped on its way, and as the deep water was between the Horse Shoe and the Shooter, we had to round the southern point of the former in order to reach the landing-place. The Wimpleton boats still lay off the South Shoe, and Captain Underwood said they were in the channel through which he must pass.

“Can’t you get to the landing without going near them?” I asked privately of the captain, though I knew the navigation of the lake as well as he did.

“I can go to the north of the Horse Shoe, and come down the channel in that way,” he replied.

“These fellows are spoiling for a fight, and I am afraid there will be some broken heads before the day is finished. If you can prevent a row, it will be better to do it.”

“Very well,” said he, ringing the bell to stop her, just as he was entering the channel between the Horse Shoe and the South Shoe.

“What’s that for?” demanded Major Tommy from the forward deck.

“Don’t you think we had better go in at the northward of the island?” inquired Captain Underwood, with the utmost deference.

“No, sir! I don’t think so!” replied Tommy, warmly. “Are you going the other way because those boats are here? Go ahead, sir! Run them down, if they don’t get out of the way!”

Captain Underwood felt obliged to obey this imperative order. If he had refused to do so, it is quite likely he would have been compelled to return to the skippership of a canal boat, from which he had been promoted to his present more dignified and lucrative position.

“Don’t run them down, captain,” I ventured to say, in a low tone, as the master rang the bell to go ahead again.

“It is hard work to please that boy without getting into trouble,” added the captain. “The good book says no man can serve two masters, but I have to serve two.”

“Blow the whistle, captain!” I suggested.

He blew the whistle till the shores resounded with the echoing screeches; but the Wimpletonians evidently believed the steamer had come this way on purpose to annoy them, and they stood upon their dignity. Not a boat moved, and the students in them looked as resolute as though they meant to be smashed rather than change their position. We were almost upon them, and I was afraid the captain intended to execute the barbarous threat of Major Tommy. I begged him again not to run into the boats; and seeing the enemy did not mean to move, he stopped and backed in season to avoid a calamity.

“What did you stop for, captain?” shouted Tommy; but I was charitable enough to believe that the words were intended for the benefit of the Wimpletonians, rather than the person to whom they were addressed.

Captain Underwood made no reply, but rang to go ahead again, though he permitted but two or three turns of the wheels.

“I can shove the boats out of the way without hurting any one, I think,” said he, as the steamer moved slowly forward.

“Look out, or you will run into us!” shouted my old enemy, Ben Pinkerton, who was in the nearest boat.

“Out of the way, then!” replied Captain Underwood.

“Go ahead, full steam, captain!” called Tommy; but again I wished to believe that his order was a threat to the enemy rather than an indication of a wicked purpose.

Instead of obeying this rash command, the captain rang the bell to back her, fearful that some of the boats might be smashed.

I saw Tommy rush aft, and I supposed he intended to come upon the hurricane deck, where he could bully Captain Underwood more effectually. I left the wheel-house, where I had been during the conversation with the captain, that he might not implicate me in the disobedience. But Tommy did not appear, and it was plain that he had adopted some other tactics.

“Wolf Penniman!” shouted some one at the gangway. “You are wanted below!”

“What is wanted?” I asked of the messenger, who could hardly speak, he was so excited.

“Major Toppleton wants you.”

I went below, and found Major Tommy standing at the door of the engine-room, foaming with wrath; indeed, he had steam enough on to carry a forty-horse engine.

“Will you do as I tell you, or not?” stormed Tommy, addressing his energetic words to the engineer.

“You must excuse me, Mr. Tommy; but I must mind the bells. It won’t do for me to disobey the captain’s orders,” protested the engineer, gently and respectfully.

“Here, Wolf!” shouted Tommy. “Come here!”

I presented myself to the little magnate, and I was conscious that I was already in a bad scrape.

“Go in there, and start up that engine! Go ahead, full steam!” continued he.

I looked at him, but I did not move to obey. I smiled, and looked as good-natured as possible, for I did not wish him to think that I was ugly about it.

“Don’t you hear me, Wolf? I tell you to start up that engine!” repeated Major Tommy.

“It won’t do for me to step in between the man and his engine,” I remonstrated, mildly.

“Yes, it will! I tell you to do it; and if you don’t do it, you shall suffer for it.”

“Let us argue the point a little, major,” I replied.

“Will you do what I tell you, or not?” roared he, swelling up as big as a major general.

“You must excuse me, major, but I can’t take the engine out of the engineer’s hands, without the captain’s orders.”

“I will let you know that this boat is my father’s, and I can do with it as I please. If you won’t start it, I will do so myself!” said the juvenile magnate, desperately, as he rushed into the engine-room, and seized hold of the working-bar.

“You musn’t touch the engine,” said the man in charge, as he took hold of Tommy’s arm, and, with as little force as was necessary, thrust him out of the room.

Tommy was the maddest major I ever saw.