"No; I think I will stay here and try to read," replied Marcy. "I know this book will not quarrel with me, but some of the Barrington people might. There must be a good deal of excitement down there, and I shouldn't think you would care to go." "It's the very reason we do care to go," replied Rodney, who, with Dick Graham at his side, was taking long steps toward the fence that separated the academy grounds from the woods. "We want to see what the folks think of last night's work. They'll not say a word to Dick and me, for we were not there." "You'll find that that will not make any difference," said Marcy. "They are down on the school, and you two will have to stand snubbing with the rest." Dick laughed and said he did not believe it, and he and his companion kept on to the fence, which they climbed without a word of remonstrance from the sentry, who was obliging enough to turn his back when he saw them coming. Marcy watched them until they disappeared in the bushes, and then fastened his eyes on his book; but he could not read. The air was too full of excitement for that, and he could do nothing but think. How he passed the time until the guard-runners and those who had received passes began to return from town, he could not have told. There was a good deal of feeling among the best of the Barrington people, they said, but the members of the committee did not blame the academy boys for marching into town. On the contrary, they were rather gratified at the promptness with which they "showed up"; for it was an indication that they would not be found wanting when the critical time came; but they did not like the way the commandant had of meddling with their municipal affairs, and had sent Mr. Riley and some others to extort from him a promise that he would never be guilty of it again. "So that report was true," said Dixon, who brought this news to Marcy Gray, "and that was the lesson the colonel has been pouting over all day. He gave Mr. Riley the assurance that no matter what happened in Barrington, not a single boy of us should be allowed outside the grounds with a musket in his hand." "Rodney didn't come home with you, did he?" said Marcy. "I wish he would make haste, for I should like to get my mail. Do you know where he is?" "That reminds me of something I made up my mind to ask you the minute I got here," answered Dixon; and Marcy judged, by the furtive manner in which he looked around to make sure there was no one within earshot, that he did not want anybody else to know what he had to say. "Has Rodney anything in common with that villain, Bud Goble?" "Not by a long shot," exclaimed Marcy indignantly. "Why do you ask? Don't you know him any better than that?" "I thought I did; but the last time I saw him and Dick Graham, they were searching everywhere for Bud. Graham is, or _was_, all right; there's no discount on him, but--"