*CHAPTER XII.*
*THE MISSING BOYS.*
To take up the story where Ralph and Ben Carver dropped out, we mustreturn to the evening after the final examination.
They had come to their room early, as all the scholars had, to pack fortheir camp trip. Ben pulled out the valises from the closet, and beganto stir up the contents of his trunk to make a selection of the thickestand oldest garments to take with him.
"There's a jacket in the sear and yellow leaf, but it's warm; in shegoes. Those trousers, I don't know about them. There's a pretty bighole in them; but yes, they'll do to fish in. Come, Ralph, get yourclothes together," exclaimed Ben, seeing that his room-mate had thrownhimself down astride of a chair, and with his head supported by bothhands, looked like a third-rate tragedy actor.
There was no answer, and Ben went on packing and talking.
"I'm going to take more things this time. I know I hadn't anything fitto wear last year. Camp-life is very hard on clothes and shoes."
There was no response from Ralph, and Ben, pausing in his packing,exclaimed,--
"What's the matter, Drayton? You look as glum as a catfish with a hookin his gills!"
"I feel just as I look, then."
"Come on, boy, we've got to start right after breakfast, and there'll beno time to pack then."
"I don't care."
"Nonsense! Come, here's your valise gaping at you."
"I'm not going, Carver."
"Fiddlesticks! you are too. There's the foot-ball and yourfishing-tackle. I'll get your things together for you."
"No. I tell you I shan't go. I've let this thing go on far enough. Iabsolutely haven't courage to go with the rest of the crowd to thatisland, where I can't get away, if I feel ever so much like running."
"The supply of courage has given out, has it?" asked Ben laughing."There has been a pretty heavy drain on it, I will admit."
"Yes, it has given out," and Ralph laughed in spite of his melancholy.
"That's bad; but come, old fellow, you'll feel better after we get off."
"And leave Joe Chester behind?"
Ralph got off the chair that he had been torturing, and, putting hishands deep in his pockets, paced to and fro.
"No, Ben; I'm a pretty mean lot, but I declare it's getting beyond mydepth. The next thing I shall go all under."
"And drag me too," added Ben, casting a sidelong glance at his friend.
"Yes, you too. I have been dragging you along in the same mire, until,to accommodate me, you've got in about as deep as I have."
"Don't mind me, Drayton. It doesn't trouble me one bit," said Bencarelessly. "My lies have all been in the cause of friendship. Come,cheer up, old fellow. We'll both reform after this, and never again telllies."
"If I ever do tell another, I'll be a fool," said Ralph emphatically."It doesn't pay; besides, it is mean work."
"Yes, but what could you do? Confess to that job with the books? Thatwas enough to expel you; don't you know it was?"
"I don't care; that would be better than living a lie here day afterday, and seeing those eyes of Joe Chester's on me day and night. No,sir! I'm not going to the island and leave him behind. You aremistaken in me. I've got to the end of my rope."
Ben whistled dolefully; went and drummed a funeral march on the window;then coming back, and dropping into a chair, rested his elbow on thetable, and his cheek on his hand, looking up meanwhile at his companion.
"What's the next thing on the bill of fare, then?"
"I'm going to cut," answered Ralph deliberately.
"What good will that do?"
"I'll leave a note for Bernard, confessing about the books, and then JoeChester can go. Even if the master did not get the note till after theboat started, he would come back for Joe."
"Now, Ralph, if you do this I am set adrift too, you see. I have toldas many lies as you have, and if you tell on yourself it will come outsomehow,--that I know."
"No, it won't, Ben."
"It will, as sure as anything. Anyhow my courage is gone too. I don'twant to face Mr. Bernard and the other fellows. No, sir! I shall stickby you. Give us your hand, old fellow. 'Sink or swim, live or die,survive or perish,' we'll stick together. What's the use of a chum thatwon't stick? Now, where shall we go? That's the question."
"That's the question," repeated Ralph, beginning to throw things intohis open trunk, to be left till called for, because he expected this wasto end his school-days at Massillon Academy.
"If we start off now on foot we shall be tracked, for Mr. Bernard willnot rest till he gets news of us."
"That's so. And if we wait and go by train in the morning, all the townwill know it. That will never do."
Both meditated a while, and then Ben said, waving an imaginary hataround his head, "I tell you! Let's go over to the Cape and see if wecan't find a vessel bound out. Father sent me ten pounds for the campout, and we'll hire a passage."
"Agreed!--the very thing! What shall we want to take?"
"We will wear these school-suits, and pack up some rough clothes, ourblankets, and just about what we would take to camp, for we may have towork our way to get the fellow to take us."
Ralph was about to throw his fishing-rod into the closet with hisfoot-ball and base-ball, when he exclaimed, "Hold on; I will make mywill, and leave that rod in the hall for Joe Chester. Here, give me acard! 'For Joe Chester.' There, that will please the little chap, andlet him know I remember him. Now I must write to Bernard. Where's myportfolio? Oh, here. Well, now, what to say to him? That's a puzzler.Shall I say anything about you, Ben?"
"I suppose you'll have to; but I am not anxious to be remembered tohim," was the laughing reply, as Ralph dipped his pen in the ink andwrinkled his brow, trying to think of the proper thing to say. "Tell himI'm just as bad as you are, and we thought we had both better get outfrom such a high-toned crowd."
"Well, it is a good crowd, Ben--a splendid set of boys, take them alltogether. You know it is. No; I am going to do the right thing, andconfess without any nonsense. He won't think me any meaner than I thinkmyself. I'll just say that you knew about it, and so thought you hadbetter go too."
After dipping his pen and scowling again, he wrote hastily:--
"MR. BERNARD,--I can't go with you. Let Joe Chester go, please. I didthe mischief, and was afraid to tell. Ban Carver knew about it, but didnot do it. We are going off together. Please send our fathers word thatwe are safe.--Respectfully yours,
"RALPH DRAYTON.
"_P.S._--I was never sorrier in my life, Mr. Bernard."
"There, Ben, how does that sound?" he asked, throwing the letter acrossthe table to his companion.
"There, Ben, how does that sound?" he asked.]
Ben laughed as he read it, and said, "Nothing could be better. Icouldn't have done it so well myself."
"Seal it then, please. I don't want to read it over."
"Now, shall we start, or go to bed for an hour or two?" asked Ben, asthe arrangements were all completed.
"I am afraid we would oversleep, and not get away till daylight, if welie down. Let's sit up and talk till after midnight. We want to startbefore the first streak of light."
"All right."
They chatted a while, and then grew sleepy. So after finding himselfnodding a number of times, Ralph said, "Let's just take a short nap,Ben."
"So I say."
Folding their arms on the table for a pillow, the boys dropped theirheads upon them, and were speedily sleeping soundly. They might haveslept till the rising-bell rang, only Ralph was awakened by a fearfuldream, in which he thought Mr. Bernard had seized him, and was trying tohold him under the water as a punishment for lying, to wash off the sinof it, Ralph thought. He started up so violently that he nearly fellover backward.
"What! what's the matter?" cried Ben in alarm.
"Nothing but a dream," said Ralph laughing. "But it is l
ucky I had it,for it is getting toward morning, and we may as well be stealing out.We had better take our boots in our hands and just crawl, thoseconfounded stairs squeak so!"
Taking their valises, the boys, with a parting glance around the room tosee if they had left anything, opened the door softly, and creptdownstairs cautiously, waiting long after each step; for, as Ralph hadsaid, they did creak unmercifully, as if in a league to betray them.
They knew the boys, their schoolmates, were too soundly sleeping to bedisturbed, and if Mr. Andrews, whose room was at the farther end of thehall, did not hear them, they were safe.
They were down at last; and, unlocking the outer door, they steppedoutside, and closed it carefully behind them.
"Good!" whispered Ben. "Now put on your boots, and away you go."
The moon was down long ago, and only the stars gave light to therunaways as they hastened through the Academy garden and over the fenceinto the field leading to the shore, feeling that every bush by the waymight have some one behind to arrest them.
Everything on the Cape was quiet.
There were several vessels at the wharf, but if manned at all, it was bya sleeping crew. They crept under the outside stairs leading to thesecond story of a sail-loft, and waited impatiently and uncomfortablyfor daylight.
"It seems like a graveyard or a funeral. I hate things so still,"whispered Ben, as if whispering were necessary in such stillness.
"It is an hour yet before daylight," said Ralph, looking at his watch.
"We may as well have a nap."
"If we can get one. Oh, how cold it is down here!"
The boys crept closer together for warmth, and with their heads on theirknees tried to sleep; and after much turning and twisting, and grumblingat the hard seat, and shivering in the cold night air as it blew acrossthe water, they at last fell asleep.