  Early one February morning a committee of ladies and gentlemen waited on Colonel Morrell. He saw them come up the drive, and was surprised to note that the group was made up of a clergyman, two well-known businessmen, and two ladies whom he knew to be leaders of women’s activities in Portville. When they had all been seated in his office, the clergyman, a fine, straight-forward young man who was making good in the largest church in the town, broached the subject to him. “Colonel Morrell,” began Dr. Bicknell. “You may be a bit surprised to see such a formidable gathering bear down on you, but I assure you that we have good intentions. I don’t know whether you have heard anything about it or not, but on Washington’s Birthday Portville is to celebrate its small but honored share in the events of the Revolutionary War. We are a committee in charge of arrangements and have come to ask you for you co-operation on that day. The center of attraction will be the old Gannon House and the picturization of the stirring events that happened in it.” “The Gannon House?” asked the colonel. “I’ve heard of it, but I don’t just recall where it is.” “It is the house at present occupied by Mr. Melvin Gates and his family. You know the place now?” “Oh, yes, surely,” affirmed the colonel. “Now I do remember. That is the most historic house in Portville, eh?” “Yes,” replied Dr. Bicknell. “At the time of the Revolution our armies were harried by one particular spy who seemed to find out every move that the Continental Army made. At last this spy was run down by two determined citizens of Portville, and was found to be a young teacher who lodged at the Gannon House. He was taken from the house by indignant patriots and hanged just outside the town. The act was most fortunate, for from that moment there was no more leaking of news to the British. “On Washington’s Birthday we propose to have a pageant which will show most of that, all but the actual hanging, which people can dispense with, I imagine. The events leading up to the capture of the British spy were highly dramatic, and we wish to show them in the pageant, which will take place in the daytime. What we want you to do, Colonel Morrell, is to permit your boys to parade in the morning. There will be a parade of ex-service men, fraternal organizations and business clubs, to say nothing of the patriotic organizations, and we feel that the line of march would not be complete unless your splendid boys marched with us.” “In the name of the cadet corps, I thank you,” acknowledged the colonel. “I shall be most happy to have the cadet units march in the parade. The boys haven’t been in a public parade for a number of years and it would do them good to get in one. Yes, I shall be very happy to allow the boys to parade.” “That is very helpful, and we are grateful to you for your co-operation,” smiled the pleasant young pastor. “Now, there is one other thing we would like to request. In the evening there will be a public inspection of the Gannon House and at that time we would like to post some of your cadets at various points about the house, to act as guides or whatever else may come up. Can you see your way clear to let us use a few of your honor pupils, say one at the front and rear doors, and one on each side and the staircases? That will add an impressive tone to the whole thing.” “Yes, that can be easily done,” promised the colonel. “I shall be glad to help in any way possible. I shall detail my captains and lieutenants to take posts in the house and do whatever else you wish them to do.” The members of the committee once more thanked the colonel, and after a few plans were made they left him. In due time the news was circulated among the corps and the cadets looked forward with more or less pleasure to the event. “It will be something different,” Terry expressed it. “Won’t I enjoy marching through town, the center of all eyes.” “You mean the town will be the center of all eyes?” asked Jim, slyly. “No, dope! I will be!” “If I remember correctly, you will be perched on the rear of a gun carriage,” retorted Jim. “But just think of me, my boy! I’ll be sitting on a horse, the captain of the cavalry, as proud as you please, bowing to the ladies.” “With all due respect to your exalted position,” grinned Terry. “I would advise you not to bow too much. You might tumble over the neck of the horse and bump your nose!” “I guess I’ll be the only one who won’t shine at all,” said Don. “I’m just a poor, plain little infantry soldier! A lieutenant on foot doesn’t show up much.” “I thought that Gates’ house looked like a very old one when we were in it,” said Don. “But I never guessed that it had such a history. Now that we know the history we can account for the huge doors, the massive bolts and the wide, spreading staircase.” An account in the newspaper interested the boys. It related how, at a time when the British raided Portville, the Gannon family took their silver plate and buried it out in the garden. The British had stolen everything in sight, but the silver was later dug up by the members of the family and saved. “I’d like to see the spot where it was buried, sometime,” said Terry. “That must have been an interesting sight. Imagine the men out in the garden in the dead of night, burying the boxes of silver plate!” Parade orders were given two days before Washington’s Birthday and the cadets found themselves in for a busy time. Dress uniforms were brought out and cleaned, swords polished and bayonets rubbed down. Rifles were inspected and the horses well groomed, for the colonel was anxious for his boys to give a good account of themselves. Good fortune fell to Jim. As an officer he had received a post inside the historic house. In high spirits he told Don and Terry of his good fortune. “Nice going, kid!” approved Don, generously. “Where is your post to be?” Jim made a wry face. “I’m not so sure that the post is a good one, for I am stationed at the back door. I won’t be able to see much of what goes on there, but at least I’ll be in the house.” “Maybe we’re luckier than you are, at that,” chuckled the red-headed boy. “Those of us who are not to be on post in the house will be able to roam around the town, for the colonel has given us full liberty on that day. But just the same, I think I’d rather be in the house.” “So should I,” nodded Don. “At any rate, keep your eyes open, Jim. There is no telling what you may see.” “I’ll do that,” Jim promised. On Washington’s Birthday the school showed the marks of feverish activity. After breakfast and the school exercises the corps assembled on the campus. It was indeed a splendid sight. The cavalry, with Captain Jim and Lieutenant Thompson at the head, assembled on the road in front of the campus, while the cadet brigade took up the campus. Back of the infantry the artillery unit stood at attention, the several guns polished to the last degree. All of the cadets were in dress uniform, with the tall military hats, the braided coats, and the white gloves. When the corps was fully formed and the orders of the day read, they started out to join the other divisions of the parade, the citizen units. With the jangle of trappings the cavalry, in perfect formation four abreast, moved off down the road, and the infantry, also marching four abreast, with the band playing a lively march and the heels of the young men ringing out on the pavement, followed. A dull rumble to the rear marked the progress of the artillery division. When they struck the center of town they fell into place behind the patriotic clubs. The parade began at eleven o’clock. It was a fine parade from start to finish. A number of ex-service men led the van, with the town organizations following. They made up fully one-half of the parade and then came the Woodcrest Military Institute corps. Afterward, everyone gave praise to the young soldiers from the school up in the hills. The cavalry was superb, the infantry marched with precision, every foot in step and every white glove swinging with accuracy, the flags drooping colorfully and the young men erect. The field guns rolled along looking grim and effective, and when the parade finally came to an end the colonel was more than satisfied. In the afternoon the pageant was held and the cadets, no longer under orders, watched the display. Fortunately, the Gannon House stood back from the street and was favored with wide lawns, and the people who came to see the spectacle, and that included practically the entire town, were all able to see the display. Actors dressed in the costumes of Revolutionary times took part and it proved to be most entertaining. A young man came to the door of the Gannon House, dressed in the Colonial costume, and asked for lodging, explaining that he was a teacher and wanted to earn his living in the town. He was graciously received by the Gannon family and installed as one of the family. But no sooner had this young man settled himself than he began to entertain strange visitors. Very erect men visited him, listening to his low-spoken talk with great attention and then going away. At night the teacher left the house, wrapped in a great cloak, explaining to Mr. Gannon, who asked his purpose, that he was merely walking for exercise and recreation. Then came two patriots who pretended great friendship for the young teacher and watched him at night, crouching beneath the windows to do so. Toward the end of the pageant they unmasked the spy and Mr. Gannon was the first to condemn him to the fate of hanging. The last scene showed the Gannon family hearing from the lips of American officers that no more information was “leaking” to the British. The pageant was well given and the spectators enjoyed it. Gates’ house was then opened to the public for a supper, which was served to the members of the committee. At eight o’clock the doors were formally opened to the general public, and Jim took his post at the back door. Hudson, as senior captain of the corps, occupied the central position at the front door. Other captains and lieutenants had posts throughout the house. There were two cadets on the lower floor, one in the center of the house and another in the huge, Colonial kitchen, a cadet on the central staircase and one on the landing of the second floor. One cadet stood post on the third floor, where the quarters of the servants still stood unchanged since the days of the building of the house. And at the back door stood Jim. He was not sure that his post was the best in the world, but he did have an active one. Early in the evening numbers of townsfolk, some of them brilliantly dressed, entered the house and were led through it by members of the Daughters of the American Revolution, who were all dressed in costumes of that period. When they finished inspecting the house they went to the grounds in the back and kept Jim active. When he heard a step on the other side of the door he would step quickly to the door, open it wide and step back, holding it open until the persons had passed through and then closing it. The yard had been lighted only in the immediate vicinity of the house. The back gardens remained in darkness. Of course much was seen of the Gates family. Melvin Gates, who had recovered from his accident, was everywhere in evidence, easily the center of the affair. A few knew that the senior Gates was more than delighted at the entire circumstance, as it was raising him vastly in the eyes of the townspeople in general. He had not himself offered his house for inspection, but had been very willing when the subject had been broached to him by the leaders of the movement. Arthur Gates was also much in the public eye as he moved with immense sociability around the house, his wife beside him, bowing and smiling. When the party happened to be composed of persons of wealth and distinction in Portville the bow and the smile became very genial indeed. However, not only the rich and influential came that night to the old Gannon House, but also the poor and humble. Many a plain working man, interested in the history of his country or the structure of the house, came to look through it and Jim opened the door to such as well as to the others who swept by him with a swish of costly garments. To all of them Jim extended the same unfailing courtesy. Toward nine o’clock in the evening a man who looked to be a laborer passed out of the back door and went into the garden. Jim noted that the man looked at his watch and then seemed to be waiting. After a time he went down to the gardens, losing himself in the blackness beyond the electric lights. Not fifteen minutes after he had gone there was another step inside the kitchen and Jim quickly opened the door. Arthur Gates stepped out, looked all around him without paying any attention to Jim, and then set off at a rapid pace for the garden, following the same direction taken by the man. Jim was curious at once. “I’d like to know what is going on,” he reflected. “I wonder if I ought to go down and see? Very few people are coming through any more, and besides, if I do leave my post, it will be thought I did so to run an errand. I guess I’ll take a chance on it.” Seeing that no one was about Jim slipped quickly to the side of the yard and away from the glare of the lights. Then, following a path which wound down into the farther reaches of the place he moved forward, treading with infinite care, avoiding gravelled walks where possible and fairly creeping over them when they could not be avoided. In a short time he reached the garden and saw ahead of him in the darkness two forms. A screen of bushes loomed between him and the two men and Jim crouched as he made his way to them. Once in their shelter he was able to hear plainly what was being said. “—close against the back wall,” Gates was saying. “You want me to mark the spot so you’ll know the place?” the man asked. “No,” replied Gates. “I don’t care if I never see it again.” “Not valuable, eh?” the man asked, cautiously. “No, only a trinket I won at school, but I’m sick and tired of having it around. It is better off buried. But never mind that; all you have to do is to bury the thing. I don’t want it done by daylight, either. Will you do it tomorrow night?” “Sure, around ten o’clock. I got to work up until that time. Right here will be all right eh?” the laborer said. “Yes. I’ll pay you well for it, but you are to keep your mouth shut. Good heavens! this thing you’re to bury isn’t worth a dollar, and yet I’ve had more trouble with it than if it cost a thousand. Now, let’s get back and you be sure to go to work tomorrow night.” With that they separated and Jim could see them going toward the house, but the laborer branched off and left the grounds while Arthur Gates went in the back door. Before he went to his post again Jim looked carefully around the garden where he stood. There was a high wall nearby and he knew that he was at the end of the property. Then he went back to his post, taking care to approach it from the side of the house, casually and as though he was coming from an errand. Once more he took up his post at the back door. “So Gates is going to bury the cup?” he reflected. “And it had given as much trouble as though it cost a thousand dollars. Of course, it may not be the cup, after all, but I’ll bet it is. Well, we’ll just dig it up as soon as he gets it planted!” In another hour all inspection of the Gannon House was over and it once more became simply the home of the Gates family. The cadets on post assembled and marched up to the school reporting in from duty, and soon after that Jim was relating his remarkable story to Don and Terry. |
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