Barbour Ralph Henry
Captain of the Crew

CHAPTER XI
ADVENTURES OF A BULL PUP

Trevor smuggled the puppy into his room undetected, against Dick’s advice.

“If Faculty finds it out you’ll not only lose the animal, but get into trouble. And they’re bound to learn of it before long. Why, the ‘goody’ will see the thing when she makes the beds.”

“No, she won’t; I’ll find a way to fix that,” answered Trevor confidently.

“But how’ll you keep him alive?” asked Dick. “The poor little thing has got to eat.”

“Oh, I can bring him something from dining-hall.”

Dick shrugged his shoulders and gave up the argument. And having relieved his conscience by his protest, joined his roommate in teaching the puppy to sit on his hind legs and hold a piece of cracker on his nose: a feat which the animal could not for a long time see the philosophy of. When, however, he discovered that obedience invariably gave him possession of the fragment of biscuit to crumble to his heart’s content over the hearth-rug, he began to understand the game, and to even show a certain pleasure in it. After the work in the gymnasium that afternoon Trevor and Dick walked to the village and the former purchased – I regret to say on credit, thereby infringing one of the rules – a red leather collar and a steel chain. When Trevor left the dining-hall after supper his coat pockets bulged suspiciously, and later the puppy feasted regally on cold roast beef and graham bread, while the two boys watched every mouthful with delight. When bedtime came Trevor arranged a pair of old tennis trousers by the hearth, and placing the puppy thereon, assured him sternly that he was expected to remain there quietly until morning.

Perhaps Trevor’s commands were not altogether clear. That as may be, he had no sooner put out the light and snuggled himself into bed than there arose a sound of grief and dismay in the study, followed presently by tiny footfalls on the bedroom floor.

“Lie down!” commanded Trevor sternly.

The whining ceased for a minute, and a tail thumped the floor delightedly. And then, as no further recognition seemed forthcoming, the whining began again in increased volume and with added pathos.

“Puppy, go lie down,” whispered Trevor, more mildly this time. Dick was laughing silently beyond in the darkness. The puppy again thumped the floor with his tail.

“Perhaps he’s cold,” suggested Dick.

“The poor little fellow wants to get up on the bed, I fancy,” answered Trevor. “I’ll spread my dressing-gown for him at the foot.” This was done, and the disturbing element was hauled to the bed by the nape of his neck. But stay on the dressing-gown he would not, and Trevor finally fell asleep with the small, warm bundle of dog lying against his breast, and a tiny, bullet-shaped head resting peacefully on his neck.

The real troubles began next morning. When the two boys started for breakfast they locked the door carefully, and had reached the stairs, when, faint but unmistakable as to character, came a long howl of grief. Fearfully, Trevor hurried back. The puppy was sitting erect and tragic just inside the door. His delight at Trevor’s return was, however, short-lived, for he was ignominiously shut in the closet, and Trevor, with the key in his pocket, again set forth. But he could find little enjoyment in breakfast, for all the while he was haunted by the fear that the “goody” would get into the room before he could return, hear the dog’s howls, and report the matter to Professor Tomkins, the resident instructor. He hurried back to Masters with his meal but half eaten, and breathed a sigh of relief when he found the beds still unmade and the room still untidied. From the closet came eager, questioning sniffs and whines of impatience. Trevor opened the door, tossed in a mutton chop, and quickly secured it again. And then the study door opened and the “goody” entered.

“Good-morning, Mr. Nesbitt.”

“Good-morning, Mrs. Pratt.”

Trevor seized a Latin book, subsided into a chair by the closet and tried to read. From behind the locked door came sounds of busy gnawings; once a diminutive growl was audible. But the “goody” was in the other room and so all was safe. Trevor discovered that he was holding the book upside down; he corrected the mistake and wondered why it was that the beds took so long to make this morning of all others. They were finally completed, however, and the crucial moment arrived. Armed with dust-cloth, the woman came out and slowly began to move about the study. Suddenly from behind the locked door came two distinct taps; it was only the puppy worrying the mutton bone, but the “goody” didn’t know that, and looked in alarm toward the closet.

“What was that?” she asked.

“What was what?” asked Trevor.

“That sound; them sounds – in there?”

“Pshaw, you’re dreaming; there – there’s no one in – ”

Something bumped softly against the door; the woman glanced suspiciously from Trevor to the closet. Trevor looked carelessly out the window and began to whistle. A low whine issued from the prison. Trevor heard it, but apparently the “goody” didn’t; he whistled louder. The whining increased. Trevor began to sing.

Then began a most appalling series of bumps, growls, knocks, whines, jars, gnawings, and similar disturbing noises from the closet. With loudly thumping heart Trevor sang on, rapidly, loudly, unceasingly. The woman turned and viewed him in astonishment not unmixed with alarm. Trevor’s singing was more creditable from the point of vigor and whole-souledness than on the score of harmony or rhythm. His notes were nearly all flats, which, with the fact that he never for an instant varied the time, made even the most joyous of ballads lugubrious when performed by him. He had finished In the Gloaming, Way down upon the Suwanee River, and Rule, Britannia, and was now breathlessly, heroically thundering forth Hilltonians in tones that could be, and probably were, heard in the next dormitory:

 
“Hilltonians, Hilltonians, your crimson banner fling”
(Bang! Bump! Gr-r-r-r!)
“Unto the breeze, and ’neath its folds your anthem loudly sing!”
(Whack! Bang! Bump!)
“Hilltonians, Hilltonians, our loyalty we’ll prove
Beneath the flag, the crimson flag, the bonny flag we love!”
(Gr-r-r-r! Ao-o-oow! Ao-o-o-ow! Bang!)
 

And then, with her hands over her ears and her dust-cloth trailing in defeat, the “goody” fled from the room, and the day was won! Trevor sank back exhausted. From the closet the strange sounds continued to issue. He sat up and stared fearfully at the closed door. What, he asked himself with sinking heart, what could they mean? He drew forth the key, crossed the room, unlocked the door, threw it open, and —

Out tumbled the puppy and – and – could it be? It could; it was! – one of Dick’s immaculate patent-leather pumps, torn and chewed into as sorry a looking object as he had ever seen!

At sight of Trevor the puppy dropped his prize, put his small head on one side, wagged his tail proudly, and gazed up at his master as though asking “How’s that for a good job well done?”

Trevor peered into the closet and groaned. The floor was a mass of débris; shoes and garments from the hooks were writhed together madly; and everywhere was set the puppy’s mark of approval. Trevor gathered up the garments and returned them to their hooks. A cold, blunt nose thrust itself into the way. Trevor’s hand rose and fell smartly twice, and with a yelp the puppy retreated to the hearth-rug, where he turned and barked defiance.

Trevor observed him wrathfully for an instant, but his attitude of insulted dignity and his ferocious challenge to combat were so ludicrous that the boy subsided amid the wreckage and laughed until the tears came. And the puppy, bounding joyfully upon him, instantly forgiving, gurgled his pleasure and licked his hands, shoes, and face with whole-souled impartiality.

And upon this scene entered Dick!

Let us draw the curtain.

That night, long after Dick had dropped off to slumber, he was awakened by Trevor’s urgent voice.

“Dick! Dick! Wake up!”

“Wha-what’s the matter?” cried Dick, starting suddenly from sleep, and sitting up in bed with confused visions of fire and flood.

“I’ve found a name for him,” answered Trevor triumphantly.

“Name? What name? Who’s name?”

“The puppy’s. I’m going to call him Muggins!”

Dick snorted wrathfully and went back to sleep.

Trevor fondled the slumberous puppy. “Isn’t he an unfeeling brute, Muggins?” he whispered. And Muggins thumped his tail affirmatively, sleepily.

The following night, when all was silent in the dormitory, a form bundled against the weather in a greatcoat, and followed by a second form, vastly smaller in outline and wearing only the coat that nature had provided him with, might have been seen – but were not – tiptoeing from study No. 16 and descending the creaking stairs. The door was locked, but the key was there, and in a moment the two forms had vanished into outer darkness and the portal had closed again.

As the discerning reader has no doubt already surmised, the mysterious forms were those of Trevor and Muggins.

Trevor had concluded that Muggins’s health demanded more exercise than his puppyship was getting, and so on the preceding night and again to-night Muggins, at the end of the steel chain, had been surreptitiously conveyed from the building for a stroll about the yard. It was bitterly cold and Trevor shivered as he ambled slowly toward the gymnasium followed by the dog; but since Muggins’s health demanded exercise Muggins should have it, though the thermometer stood at miles below zero, which luckily it didn’t to-night. Around the gymnasium plodded Trevor, slipping, sliding on the icy walks; around trotted Muggins, sniffing, shivering in the nipping wind. Then down the path by Bradley to Turner, around the corner of Turner, and —

Alas, tragedy was in the air that night!

Trevor paused, listening. Footsteps sounded loudly, frostily at a little distance, and in the darkness a dim form loomed up from the direction of the gate. It was but the work of an instant to slink into the recess of the building made by the protruding entrance, and to pull Muggins after him. The footsteps drew nearer. One of the professors returning late from the village, Trevor told himself. The form came abreast of him, a scant two yards distant, and was almost past his hiding-place when Muggins awoke to the demands of the occasion.

Muggins, despite his tender age, was valor to the tip of his wagging tail. He heard strange footsteps; he saw a strange form; he feared an attack on his master. But, what ho! was not he, Muggins, there? Certainly! And —

Away went the chain from Trevor’s numbed fingers; away went Muggins, dashing to the fray like a knight of old!

“Bow! Bow-wow!” challenged Muggins.

Trevor heard an ejaculation of alarmed surprise, saw the form of the tall professor jump back, and then – then there was a crash, and Trevor, seizing the opportunity, was off like the wind, and had gained the doorway of Masters Hall ere the astonished professor had regained his feet. For Muggins in his excess of valor had got his small body between his adversary’s legs, and great and sudden was the fall. Trevor waited long at the entrance of Masters Hall, standing with door ajar and peering anxiously into the darkness; once even venturing upon a subdued whistle and a yearning “Muggins, Muggins!” But his appeals were vain, and after a while he crept dejectedly upstairs and back into his cold and Muggins-less bed, wondering, sorrowful, fearful of the morrow.

CHAPTER XII
MUGGINS IS EXPELLED

Dick learned the story the next morning while the boys were dressing, and, to Trevor’s pained surprise, subsided onto the hearth-rug, where he sprawled at length, and gave way to heartless mirth.

“Oh, I dare say you don’t care,” said Trevor with wounded dignity. “He wasn’t your dog. If he had been” – savagely – “I dare say I should have laughed!” Dick stopped rolling and sat up against the wood-box.

“But – but, don’t you see, Trevor,” he gurgled, “I’m – I’m not laughing because you’ve lost Buggins – ”

“Muggins,” corrected Trevor coldly.

“I – I mean Muggins. I’m awfully sorry about that, honest injun! But – but think of Longworth – it must have been Longworth, you see – think of him rolling over there on the ice, all tangled up with Bug – Muggins and the chain! Oh, jiminy!” And Dick went off into another spasm of laughter.

Trevor stared thoughtfully into the flames, trying to summon up the picture that appeared so delightful to his roommate. After a moment he smiled faintly.

“Yes, I see; yes, I fancy it was comical. But – but wasn’t it awfully brave of Muggins?”

“Awfully,” answered Dick with emphasis as he sat up again, dried his eyes with a towel, and proceeded with his dressing. “Perhaps you’ll find him again.”

But Trevor shook his head sadly.

“No chance of that. Poor Muggins!”

After chapel that morning Professor Wheeler, the principal, arose. “One of the professors while returning through the yard late last evening came across a – a young dog wearing a collar and chain. There are reasons to believe that the animal belongs to one of you, as the professor caught sight of a boy running toward a dormitory.”

A murmur of surprise, amusement, and excitement traveled through the hall. Boys studied each other’s faces questioningly. “He saw you after all!” whispered Dick. “I don’t see how he could,” whispered Trevor.

“There is a rule,” continued the principal, “forbidding the keeping of dogs, or any sort of animals, in the academy buildings.” He paused, and then added grimly: “I will ask the owner of the animal to stand up.”

There was a flutter of excitement; heads turned expectantly for sight of the unlucky youth. Silence reigned save for the whisperings of the boys. But no one arose. The principal waited calmly, patiently, for several minutes.

“Very well,” he said then. “I want every resident of Masters Hall to come to my office at a quarter of nine, prompt.” He moved down the steps and the boys flocked from their seats and hurried out of chapel, laughing, whispering in the throes of a new sensation. Trevor groaned as he arose.

“I fancy it would have been better if I’d ’fessed up,” he said to Dick. “Perhaps he’d have let me off easier. What do you think?”

“Blessed if I know. Anyhow, there’s no harm done so far; you have a right to refuse to incriminate yourself. Only what he wants us at the office for I can’t see, unless he’s going to ask each one of us separately. In that case it’s all up with you.”

“In that case I’ll own up, of course,” said Trevor. “But it’s rather tough getting into another fuss just when I’ve got over that stage-coach business. Maybe it’ll be probation this time.”

“Oh, I guess not,” answered Dick as they crossed the dining-hall. “And it isn’t like Wheels to ask the fellows to tell on each other; and that’s why I can’t understand this office business.”

At the appointed time forty-two youths of various ages and sizes crowded into the principal’s office in Academy Building. The office consists in reality of two rooms, an outer and an inner apartment, the first used by the secretary, the second sacred to Professor Wheeler. The outer room was crowded when the principal entered, and a gasp of surprise went up when it was seen that under one arm he carried a small, wriggling, greatly excited bull puppy, which strove earnestly to reach his face with an eager pink tongue. The principal appeared to appreciate the humor of his entrance, for there was a slight twitch at the corners of his mouth, as though he would have liked to smile. At sight of Muggins Trevor started and made as though to move forward and claim his property, but Dick laid a warning hand on his arm, and he kept his place and watched professor and dog disappear into the inner office. The forty-two youths – or to be strictly truthful – forty of them – gazed wonderingly into each other’s faces while titters of suppressed laughter ran up and down the ranks. Then the principal came out again still with the squirming puppy in his arms, and the titters died away abruptly.

“Are we all here?” he asked. “Supposing you form into, say, three lines across the room here; that’s it; now I can count you. Exactly; forty-two; a full attendance, I see. Kindly give me your attention for a moment.” He held up the puppy, a squirming white mass of legs, tail, and pink tongue. “I have here, as you see, a young dog, of just what breed, age, and previous condition of servitude I am in doubt. But it has, as you will observe, a collar of Hillton crimson and a strong steel chain; possibly we shall be able to identify it by those. Now the owner, or at least the companion at a late hour last night, of this animal is known to room in your dormitory. I have called you together here in order that he may claim his property. I will ask him to do so.”

Each boy viewed his neighbor suspiciously, but none said a word. As before, the principal waited calmly, patiently, for several moments. Then:

“Very well. You will perhaps recollect the saying in regard to Mahomet and the mountain. The mountain having refused to go to Mahomet, Mahomet very sensibly decided to go to the mountain. In this case, as the owner refuses to go to the dog, we will see if the dog will go to the owner.”

Professor deposited the puppy on the floor. Forty-two – or, to be again truthful, forty – youths viewed the animal with apprehension. It was all very clever, of course, and no doubt had a flavor of humor, but – but supposing that silly dog got it into his head that they were his owner! How could they prove that they weren’t? How produce a satisfactory alibi? They stirred uneasily, and frowned at the puppy.

The puppy, meanwhile, sat down and industriously scratched his neck.

But after that a spirit of adventure seized him, and he cast an inquiring glance over the breathless assembly. Then he moved forward and sniffed tentatively at the damp boots of Todd, who stood in the middle of the front line. Todd held his breath and turned pale. But Muggins evidently didn’t fancy wet leather, for he moved off down the line, sniffing here and there, but without enthusiasm. Once he paused and cocked an interrogatory brown eye up at Williams. And it was Williams’s turn to wish himself away. He frowned darkly, threateningly, and Muggins, scenting animosity, turned tail. Williams heaved a sigh of relief.

Muggins now crawled laboriously between the feet of the next youth, and found himself confronted by a second rank of motionless, silent, and unsympathetic persons. He began to feel nervous. He stopped and, pointing his blunt nose toward heaven, howled long and dismally. Some one laughed, and the spell of terror was broken. Even Professor Wheeler smiled, while Muggins, delighted at the evidence of companionship, wagged his tail and began his search anew. Dick and Trevor stood, backs to the wall, in the last of the three lines. Trevor watched the puppy, scowling ferociously. The suspense was awful. He never for an instant doubted that sooner or later Nemesis in the shape of Muggins would find him out. Meanwhile he frowned, clenched his fists, and waited for his doom. His doom when it came came speedily.

Muggins had apparently lost interest in the proceedings, and had begun to whine softly, when suddenly he stopped dead short, and putting his head aloft, twitched the wrinkled end of his pink nose and sniffed suspiciously. One ear went up at an animated angle, and he put his little bullet-shaped head on one side. Professor Wheeler moved softly forward to a point where he could better watch events, and Trevor, after one annihilating glance at the puppy, stared straight before him. Muggins squirmed through the second rank, showing signs of strong excitement. And then —

Then there was a yelp of triumph, of delight, and Muggins was leaping deliriously at Trevor, giving vent to his joy in short explosive barks and gurgling yelps.

“I won’t keep you any longer,” said the principal. “If any of you are late at recitations, you may explain that it was my fault. I will ask Nesbitt to remain for a few minutes.”

And with grins of relief and amusement the forty-one boys crowded forth, leaving Trevor standing there alone, very red in the face, and with the puppy clasped close in his arms. Then the principal and Trevor and Muggins adjourned to the inner room. And there, while Muggins lay curled contentedly against the boy’s breast – simply because he couldn’t be induced to stay anywhere else – Trevor, rather haltingly, explained.

“And you had the dog in your study ever since Saturday?”

“Yes, sir.”

“But how – I can’t understand why no one discovered it. Didn’t the ‘goody’ see it there?”

“No, sir.” And Trevor explained his manner of keeping that worthy person in ignorance. And once or twice during the recital, although Trevor really didn’t do the narrative half justice, the professor concealed his smiles with difficulty. And then, when there was nothing more to be said on Trevor’s side, the principal sat silent for several moments, gazing out of the window. And Trevor took heart.

“Well, the whole case seems to have been one of sudden infatuation between a boy and a dog,” said Professor Wheeler at last, “rather than a preconceived plan to create mischief or transgress the rules. Under the circumstances – But, of course, you understand that the dog can not remain in the grounds?”

“I suppose not, sir.” And the principal smiled at the lad’s dolorous tones.

“No; now I would suggest that you take him to the village and find some one there to look after him for you; I think you can do it; you might try Watson’s stables, back of the Eagle. Then you can see the dog occasionally, though you must promise never to bring him onto school grounds.”

“Yes, sir; thank you, sir.”

“And I think that that will be punishment enough for the case. You may go, Nesbitt. And you may leave the puppy here, if you like, until you have an opportunity to go to the village.”

“Thank you very much, sir,” answered Trevor gratefully.

“By the way, it’s a bulldog, isn’t it?” asked the principal. “Yes, I thought so; that head, you know; very intelligent creature, to be sure.”

And then Trevor placed Muggins on the principal’s big leather couch, with never a doubt but that that was the most appropriate place for him, and sneaked to the door. And when he hurried down the steps of Academy Building, shrill and faint came to his ears the wailing of Muggins.

After dinner, accompanied by Dick, he conveyed the puppy to the village and arranged for his board and room – the latter a comfortable soap-box in the office – at Watson’s livery-stable. And after a heartrending parting the two boys returned to the academy and two o’clock recitations.

“Do you think he’ll be happy there?” asked Trevor wistfully.

“Sure to be,” Dick assured him. “He’ll be as happy as – as a bull pup!”

The following afternoon Carl Cray burst excitedly into the study, where the two were deep in the morrow’s lessons.

“It’s come!” he cried triumphantly. “She’s here!”

“Who’s come?” asked Dick blankly.

“What’s here?” echoed Trevor.

“Why, the ice-yacht – The Sleet!”