“I’ll do it,” said Mack, promptly. “It will be a big innovation, but I don’t see how the boys can object to it under the circumstances. Here, you fellows; fall in! Don’t stop to ask any questions, but fall in. Forward, march!”
The boys obeyed, lost in wonder, and Colonel Mack marched them at quick time toward the depot. They found the company gathered about the band-master, who was haranguing them in his broken English, emphasizing his remarks by flourishing his staff so furiously that it fairly whistled as it cut the air. He was telling how neatly Meester Plake had turned the tables on the conspirators, and trying to make the students understand how mad he was because he did not get a chance to take dot Veelliams by the collar for just one little minute. In the midst of it all, Mack marched in with his squad, who were greeted with cheers long and loud. The members of the company gathered about them, shaking their hands and patting their heads, and, when Captain Walker told them to fall in with the rest, there was not so much as a dissenting look seen.
The boys had by this time become aware that the events of the day were pretty well known in the city, but they were not prepared for the greeting that was extended to them all along their line of march from the depot to Clarendon Hall. It was almost as enthusiastic as the welcome Mack and his men received in Bridgeport after their battle with the mob at Hamilton Creek. They were loudly cheered, and now and then some one would run out into the street with a bouquet in his hand and make hurried inquiries for Blake, who had remained behind to assist Mr. Taylor; but he had plenty of friends who were willing to act as his representatives, and by the time they reached the reception room adjoining the hall, they were almost loaded down with flowers.
All the exciting incidents connected with this particular class dinner were over at last, and it only remains for us to say nothing happened during the evening to mar their enjoyment, and that when they took the early train for Bridgeport, the students felt that they had done themselves credit. Blake was the hero, as he deserved to be, and he and his committee, as well as the boys who had gone down to Bordentown with them, were “toasted,” the tall student who had been so prompt to put himself in fighting trim, responding in a speech that set the tables in a roar. Everybody wondered what had become of Lester and his party, and how they were going to get back to the academy; but still they did not feel alarmed for their safety, for if they exhibited the same skill in eluding the firemen that they did in getting away with the dinner, they were sure to come off scot free. And they did, every one of them, although a few had some very narrow escapes. They succeeded in boarding a freight train which stopped at a water-tank about two miles above Bordentown, and arrived at Hamilton in time to take the two o’clock train for Bridgeport. When the first-class boys got there, they were all in their rooms under arrest, but sleeping soundly after the fatigue and excitement of the day. Their exploit was a nine days’ wonder, and there were those who were sorry that they did not eat the dinner after they had put themselves to so much trouble to get it. Lester Brigham got into a quarrel with Wallace Ross the minute he entered his room. Ross accused him of treachery, and threatened to go before the court-martial and tell all he knew.