The Story of Paul Boyton: Voyages on All the Great Rivers of the World. Paul Boyton
until it was squeezed down to one corner. Then his captors would get a firm grip on the back of his neck. If the squirrel proved to be a young one, they would put on a collar and little chain, that they had always ready, and keep him to train for a pet. Once Paul caught a gray squirrel kitten so small and young that he had to feed it on milk and crushed walnuts. He called it May. The tiny creature lived in his pocket and desk and shared his bed at night. It would sit on the off page of his book whilst he studied and comb its little whiskers and brush its tail in perfect contentment. Every one marveled at the affection of his pet and at the control he had over it. Paul would let it loose in the woods, it would run up a tree and at his call, "Come May," it would return at once and with a chuckle drop into his pocket. Paul kept this squirrel until after he had left college. The crowded streets of the city seemed to bewilder it, and it jumped from his pocket to the sidewalk. A man passing struck it with a cane and killed it. Paul grieved long over his pet; but from this experience he acquired a great control over animals and always had a supply in hand to train. He carried snakes and bugs and mice and lizards in his pockets and at one time had a white rat that came very near to filling the place of the lost May. If the boys captured an old squirrel, they generally let it go; but sometimes it was retained for another purpose.
It would be taken back to the college and that evening put down through a knot hole in the study-hall floor. The hole was carefully covered by a small piece of board with the leg of Paul's desk to keep it down. Next morning when all would be deep in their studies and a profound silence filled the hall, Paul would quietly slip the board away from the hole. Attracted by the light, the squirrel would soon come out. The studious (?) boys who were posted, kept one eve on their books and one on the hole. When the squirrel appeared, as it usually did in a short time these would start up with well feigned cries of alarm. In a moment the entire study-hall was in an uproar, all pursuing the bewildered squirrel. The first or second time this occurred, the staid professor took active part in the exciting chase. The frequent recurrence of squirrel hunts in the study-hall awakened suspicion in the minds of the faculty. An investigation was made, Paul and Stockie were called to the president's room and interviewed regarding squirrels and their habits. After this, the study-hall was no longer disturbed by these little denizens of the forest.
About the last time that Paul went swimming to Bruce's dam, a decayed thorn was driven into his foot, a portion of which he was unable to remove. This troubled him occasionally. During the month of November the foot commenced to swell in an alarming manner. He had to remain in the dormitory for over a week. While he was still an invalid, a box arrived from home full of cakes, candies, preserves and many other goodies dear to a school-boy's heart. In the box was also a present from his younger brother. It had been packed in without the knowledge of his mother. It was a large Chinese firecracker. Paul carefully concealed this precious gift until a grand occasion would come to fire it. At recess many of the boys came up to see him, and incidentally to share in the delicasies he had received. Stockie came also and told Paul that their crowd had discovered a tale-bearer in the person of a youth from Johnstown, Penn. He wound up by adding:
"And how are we to fix him?"
Paul answered mysteriously: "Leave it to me. I have it; bring me all the string you can find."
From day to day Stockie produced liberal supplies of the desired article. No doubt most of it belonged to the boy whose innocent pastime was that of flying kites during recess. Paul wound this string firmly and tightly around the Chinese cracker until it had assumed considerable proportions. He argued on the principle that, if paper resisted the force of the explosion, the additional binding of string would cause a much louder one. The bomb was at last completed and Stockie received a hint to keep his ears open for music that night. The little iron bed of the doomed talebearer was not far distant from Paul's, and between them was a stove in which burned a brisk fire every night to drive out the chill mountain air. When all were asleep, Paul slipped from his bed, and touched the fuse to the red hot side of the stove. Then he placed the ignited bomb under the tell-tales bed and hastily scrambled back to his own. He had just time to roll himself up in the blankets, when there was a flash and terrible explosion. The bed of the tell-tale turned a complete somersault, while the entire building trembled with the concussion and a shower of broken glass was scattered around. No serious damage was done; but Paul was horrified and frightened half to death at the result of his first essay with explosives. The boys in the dormitory were only too glad of an excuse for excitement. They immediately began the usual battle with pillows accompanied with the wildest yells and whoops, until they were suddenly quieted by the entrance of the officials. No one could find out the culprit, so the investigation was postponed until morning. Classes were suspended next day. Every student, including the invalid, was present in the study-hall. The entire faculty sat in judgment. The president opened the meeting with a severe lecture, during which he quoted that it "was better that ten guilty ones should escape rather than that one innocent person should suffer." He called urgently upon the guilty ones to stand up and declare themselves. His invitation was not accepted.
"Now boys, you know that it is a strict dormitory rule that no one there shall speak above a whisper. The noise you made last night was heard distinctly in the village a mile away. All of you who did not break the rule last night put up your hands."
Every boy's hand in the study hall was at once raised. The president looked perplexed, and said: "Perhaps you misunderstood me. To make it plain to you, I want every boy who did not raise his voice above a whisper after retiring last night to stand up."
The first on their feet were Paul and Stockie, whose good example was followed without any exception by every boy in the school. The president was dumbfounded. He shook his head sadly. After a brief consultation with the professors he remarked. "The young men now before me are grievously lacking either in understanding or veracity." Numerous were the mishaps that befell Paul and his companion Stockie, owing to their love of wandering through the woods. When they were missed, a professor was generally sent after the fugitives. In visiting their squirrel traps they often separated, Stockie examining one trap, Paul another. They would appoint a place of rendezvous, close to some well known giant pine. The one to arrive first would call the other by a loud whistle in close imitation of a quail. The other would answer by a similar whistle. One day when about to mount the tree and give his usual signal of recall, Paul discovered the professor, who had been sent after them, approaching. Quickly he climbed into the tree and concealed himself in the dense foliage. At this moment he heard Stockie's familiar signal quite near the rendezvous, and to his dismay, the professor, hidden behind a tree close by, repeated the quail call, thus leading the unsuspecting Stockie to his doom. As Stockie neared the tree in which Paul was hidden, he shouted: "I've got two!" The professor stepped forward and said: "I have one!"
Paul could distinctly over-hear the professor question Stockie in regard to his chum's whereabouts, all knowledge of which the latter loyally but untruthfully denied. He had grasped the situation at a glance. The professor with his captive remained a long while and the latter was compelled to repeat the quail call time after time in hopes that the other victim would respond. But the moaning of the pines was the only answer. Finally the professor and his prisoner started for the college. Paul slid down the tree and taking a shorter cut, was deep in his books when they entered. Though strongly suspected, he escaped that time, the poor captive receiving a double dose. Stockie was generally unfortunate enough to get more than his share of punishment, but he was thoroughly loyal to his friends and never murmured. It was customary, when a boy had misbehaved himself or broken any rule, to send him to the president's room where either reprimand or a thrashing awaited him. One day a professor called Stockie during recess and said:
"As you are a good, swift runner, I want you to go over to the President's room and ask for his letters. I want to put them in the mail bag. The coach will be starting in a few minutes."
The president was not in his room and Stockie availed himself of the chance to view the pictures hanging around the walls. The president had just made the discovery that several of the boys had utterly ruined some growing tobacco that he had been experimenting on, so he was in bad humor when he entered his sanctum.
"What! You here again?"
And without permitting the astonished Stockie to speak he began to administer a severe thrashing. The door was opened by the professor