BRAKE UP; OR, THE YOUNG PEACEMAKERS.

BY

OLIVER OPTIC,

AUTHOR OF “YOUNG AMERICA ABROAD,” “THE ARMY AND NAVY STORIES,” “THE WOODVILLE STORIES,” “THE BOAT-CLUB STORIES,” “THE STARRY FLAG STORIES,” ETC.

BOSTON:

LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS.

NEW YORK:

LEE, SHEPARD AND DILLINGHAM.

1873.

[2]

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by WILLIAM T. ADAMS, In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.

ELECTROTYPED AT THE BOSTON STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY, NO. 19 SPRING LANE.

[3]

TO

MY YOUNG FRIEND

ELLIOT WILLIAM SAYWARD

This Book

IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED.

[4]

THE LAKE SHORE SERIES.

[5]

PREFACE.

“Brake Up” is the fifth of The Lake Shore Series, and was one of the serials which appeared in Oliver Optic’s Magazine. Although the volume contains an independent story, the same characters that appeared in preceding issues of the series are introduced. While Captain Wolf Penniman still remains true to his high standard of duty, Nick Von Wolter is presented to the reader in strong contrast with the hero. The latter, ambitious to put himself forward in the world, makes the oft-repeated mistake of those who follow any other guide than that of religious principle. The result to the evil-doer is but the reflection of the world’s experience; and though all who seek and follow the True Light may not realize the same worldly success that crowned the life of Wolf, they are absolutely sure to attain that peace of mind which alone is happiness here and hereafter.

[6]

The railroad phrase “Brake Up” is not used in its technical sense, but figuratively indicates how the wrong-doer should proceed when he becomes conscious of his error; and the author hopes his young friends, as well as those of mature years, will follow the example of the magnate of Centreport when they find themselves on the “wrong track.”

Harrison Square, Boston,

January 26, 1870.

[7]

CONTENTS.

[11]

BRAKE UP;

OR,

THE YOUNG PEACEMAKERS.

CHAPTER I. COLONEL WIMPLETON WON’T HAVE IT.

“I won’t have it, Wolf Penniman! No, I won’t have it!” said and repeated Colonel Wimpleton, as, with an uncertain step, he shuffled up to the door of my state-room, on board of the Ucayga.

The magnate of Centreport was more than usually intoxicated. For two or three years he had kept himself well filled with rum. His face had grown red, and toddy-blossoms had gathered upon his aquiline nose, but he seldom manifested any of the ordinary symptoms of drunkenness. It was not often that he reeled, or became incoherent in his speech, as on the present [12] occasion. If he was ever overcome by his besetting vice, it was not in public. I had certainly never before seen him in the condition in which he presented himself at the door of my state-room.

I was aware that the habit of drinking was gaining upon him. I had frequently seen him when he was affected by the liquor he had taken. I had known him to fall asleep in company when the conversation flagged, and I had often noticed the stupor of inebriation. He took less interest in the steamer, and in other business enterprises in which he was engaged, than formerly. Under the influence of his drams, when excited, he was even more violent than when he was sober. For years he had been the deadly enemy of Major Toppleton, the rich man of Middleport, on the opposite side of the lake. His intemperance did not moderate his hatred, though it deprived him of the energy to prosecute malicious schemes against his rival.

Three years before, Major Toppleton had completed the Lake Shore Railroad, intended in the beginning rather as a plaything for the students of the Toppleton Institute, and as a means of giving the young men a [13] knowledge of railroad business, though the idea had enlarged on his hands, and the line had become a regular thoroughfare of travel. A violent competition had sprung up between the two sides of the lake. The projector of the railroad had purchased the old line of steamers, and ran them only to Middleport, thus compelling the people of the large and thriving town of Centreport to do all their business through the rival place on the other side of the lake. This was more than the choleric temper of Colonel Wimpleton could endure, and he immediately built the large, swift, and beautiful steamer Ucayga, to run between Centreport and the lower end of the lake, thus giving the town direct communication with the great business centres of the nation.

For a time the Lake Shore line had the advantage, and obtained nearly all the through business; but the new steamer, of which I had the honor to be captain, by making one through trip a day to Hitaca, at the upper extremity of the lake, beating the railroad line by three quarters of an hour, and affording better accommodation, without change from boat to cars and from cars to boat, turned the current of travel, and [14] Centreport obtained a complete and decided victory over Middleport. Of course Major Toppleton was sorely vexed at the triumph of his great rival. He had vainly sought the means of recovering his lost prestige. The best time he could make was four hours and a quarter, while the steamer line accomplished the distance in three and a half. He could regain the ground he had lost only by building a steamer like the Ucayga, or extending his railroad through a wild region for twenty-five miles, to the head of the lake. Either of these expedients involved a very large outlay of money, which he was not willing to make. But he continued to talk of doing

something, and there was no end to the agitation of the subject.

I had certain very decided views of my own, and earnestly hoped that the major would adopt neither of his expensive expedients. All Middleport and all Centreport had been at war with each other for years. Not only the major and the colonel, but their two sons, and the two academies under their patronage, had hated and fought each other; but now all had been reconciled except the two magnates, though the business [15] rivalry between the two places was not abated. But it seemed to me that, after the two sons had become good friends and the two Institutes had fraternized, the two magnates hated each other more bitterly than ever. I could not help fearing that a new steamer, or an extension of the railroad, would increase the malignant rivalry; and, acting through Tommy Toppleton, the major’s son, and Waddie Wimpleton, the colonel’s son, I had done what I could to keep the two lines as they were at the opening of my present story.

Major Toppleton had proposed to me, and I had suggested to Colonel Wimpleton, the plan of uniting the two lines; but the magnate of Centreport had indignantly and scornfully repudiated the proposition. He would have nothing to do with the Toppletons. Such a union would be a benefit to the travelling public, while it would afford a remunerative business to each line. It would reduce the time from Hitaca to Ucayga three quarters of an hour, and make an end of all the ill feeling engendered by the competition. The one purpose of my existence, at this time, was to accomplish this union. I hoped and prayed [16] for some happy circumstance that would reconcile the great men. I was even daring enough to attempt to contrive a plan by which this blessed result might be attained; but I had not been able to devise any expedient which appeared hopeful enough to be attempted.

Colonel Wimpleton was more than usually intoxicated when he presented himself at the door of my state-room. As he spoke he staggered into the apartment, and dropped heavily into a chair. It was mortifying and disgusting even to me to see him in this condition; but how much more so to his family! I pitied his wife, I pitied Waddie, and I pitied Minnie Wimpleton, the oldest daughter of the magnate; indeed, I pitied all who were connected with him; for if he was a terrible man when sober, he was vastly more terrible when intoxicated. Though he had occasionally found fault with me since I had been in charge of the steamer, he never indulged in anything which could be called abuse. On the other hand, if anybody could be said to have any influence over him, I had a very little. It was by my plans, and through my direct agency, that the steamer had won [17] the victory over the rival line. I had always treated him with respect, and even with “distinguished consideration,” but at the same time I maintained my independence. The colonel knew that the moment

he cast me off, the major was ready to take me up, and restore me to my old position on the railroad. Perhaps it is not exactly modest for me to state these things, but it would be mere affectation for me to ignore them.

“I won’t have it!” repeated Colonel Wimpleton, with greater emphasis, as he dropped into the chair in my state-room.

“What, sir?” I inquired.

“I say I won’t have it,” he replied, fixing a kind of vacant stare upon the floor.

I concluded that what he would not have related to the steamer, and I was prepared to receive the rebuke he had apparently come to administer. I could think of nothing I had done to deserve censure. The Ucayga had made all her trips with clock-work regularity. We had been “on time;” and except when the days were too short, we had put her “through by daylight.” The pleasure season was [18] just opening, and we were carrying crowds of passengers. Certainly everything seemed to be lovely, and I was not conscious of deserving a rebuke. But in my relations with the colonel I often received what I did not deserve. I was tolerably intimate in the family of Major Toppleton. Tommy, now thoroughly reformed, was one of my best friends. He was grateful to me because I had assisted in saving him from the wrath of Jed Trotwood, and as he still had a great influence over his father, he always insured me a welcome at the Toppleton mansion.

Grace Toppleton was very kindly disposed towards me; and being eighteen now, I am willing to confess that I believed her to be the prettiest and the dearest girl in the whole world. I had become very particular in regard to my dress, and my mother often declared that she was afraid I should yet be a dandy, I was so particular to wear good clothes, and to have my neck-tie nicely adjusted. But, then, I was the commander of the Ucayga, and it was a part of my duty to make myself agreeable to the passengers, including many elegant and accomplished ladies. Yet I could not conceal from myself the truth that I cared [19] more for the opinion of Grace than of all others. For her I wore the good clothes; for her I was particular about my neck-tie; and for her I brushed my hair till every individual lock had found its most graceful position. By continued perseverance in shaving my upper lip, I had coaxed a tolerable mustache into being, which, I fondly believed, not only overcame the juvenility of my appearance, but added a manly feature to my face.

I was very much interested in Grace, as I had been from the first moment I saw her. Indeed, this interest had grown upon me in a manner which I need not stop to explain. I acknowledged to myself that I had “intentions” in regard to her, though I could not help feeling that they were very presumptuous in me, who had neither a great name nor a great family to boast of. I had never said anything to Grace about these intentions, but I flattered myself that she was not wholly indifferent towards me. Her father did not seem to notice my attentions, but I was afraid he would. As this was the thought always nearest to my heart, it occurred to me, as the tipsy colonel sat looking at the floor in my state-room, that my devotion to Grace was what he would not have.

[20]

CHAPTER II BRAKE UP!

I looked at Colonel Wimpleton, as he sat gazing, with a stupid stare, upon the floor of the state-room. I began to feel some trepidation lest my relations with the family of Major Toppleton were to be criticised and censured. But true to the instincts of all young men in my situation, I was ready to die rather than yield the breadth of a hair in my devotion to Grace. The magnates might quarrel as much as suited their imperial pleasure, but I would neither be coaxed nor driven into the feud. I was resolved to be discharged from my pleasant and lucrative position rather than have my agreeable relations with the Toppletons suspended.

“Wolf, I won’t have it!” exclaimed the colonel, suddenly, as he stamped his foot upon the floor, after a silence which enabled me to review my previous conduct for months.

[21]

“What, sir?” I inquired again.

But the tipsy magnate did not condescend to reply to my question. He contracted the muscles of his face into a maudlin expression of indignation, and continued to brood over the evil which disturbed him.

“You must go with me, Wolf,” said he, after another long pause.

“Where, sir?”

“Over to Middleport.—No, I won’t have it! I’ll put a stop to it!”

“I really don’t understand you, Colonel Wimpleton,” I pleaded.

“You don’t understand it, Wolf? Yes, you do understand it, Wolf. You know all about it.”

“What, sir?”

“What, sir!” sneered the colonel, fixing a stare of drunken ire upon me. “You must go with me, Wolf.”

“But the boat must start in less than an hour,” I added, consulting my watch.

“I don’t care for the boat. This thing is of more consequence than the boat, Wolf.”

“What thing, sir?”

“Boys musn’t be men till they are old enough to [22] be men, Wolf,” protested the great man. “Come with me.”

He rose with some difficulty from the chair, and tottered towards the door.

“Where am I to go, sir?” I asked.

“Over to the other side of the lake.”

“But the boat⁠—”

“Don’t say any more to me about the boat, Wolf. Van Wolter can run the boat as well as you can. Come along with me.”

“Very well, sir; I will tell Mr. Van Wolter that I shall not go down the lake with him.”

When I had seen the mate, I returned to my state-room, where the colonel had again seated himself. I kept a tumbler and a pitcher of ice water in the room, and as I went to take a drink, I found the glass smelled strongly of liquor. The magnate had a bottle in his pocket, and had taken another dram. I did not like to go with him while he was in his present condition, and evidently growing worse, but I could not refuse without creating a tempest.

“Courting!” ejaculated the colonel, as I put on my cap. “I won’t have it.”

[23]

“I don’t understand you, sir,” I replied, startled by the suggestive word he had used.

“You’ll understand it very soon, Wolf, for I won’t have it. Come with me.”

What could the great man mean? Did he apply that word to my relations with Grace Toppleton? I was not willing to have them called by so vulgar a term. He rose from the chair, and bolted out of the state-room, for he could not now maintain a steady gait. I followed him to the gangway, where the boat I had ordered was waiting for us. Van Wolter winked at me as I passed him, and seemed to regard the drunkenness of the magnate as a good joke, instead of the most serious thing in the world. With the assistance of the mate and myself, the colonel succeeded in depositing himself in the boat without falling into the lake, and the men landed us at Middleport.

Bracing up his nerves to their utmost tension, the great man walked up the wharf to the railroad station, whence he dropped into a chair, overcome by his exertions to act like a sober man. The last dram imbibed had not yet produced its full effect, and I hoped, in [24] the stupor of intoxication, he would forget his mission, whatever it was. People looked at him, smiled, winked, and sneered, as he sat in the waiting-room, and it was very disagreeable to me to be obliged to be his companion. There is no knowing what a tipsy man may do, and I was fearful that he would place me in a still more embarrassing position. The vulgar expression he had used—“courting”—indicated that there was a lady in the affair. I suspected that he meant to proceed to the house of Major Toppleton; but I was determined not to go there with him, for such a step would imply that he intended to meddle with my affair.

“No, I won’t have it, Wolf! Now go and see where they have gone,” said the colonel, after he had sat a few moments.

“See where who have gone, sir?” I inquired.

“Why, Tom Toppleton and Waddie.”

“I know where they have gone.”

“Where?” he demanded, jerking up his head suddenly.

“Down to the Horse Shoe, sir.”

“I suppose you know all about it.”

[25]

“They have gone to select a camp for the regiment—that’s all.”

“No, sir! That’s not all, Wolf! You know very well that’s not all.”

“At least, that’s all I know about it,” I pleaded.

“Now, where’s Grace Toppleton? That’s what I want to know,” said he, savagely.

“I don’t know where she is,” I replied, not pleased to have her name connected with the matter, whatever it might prove to be.

“You go and find out where she is—that’s what I want you to do. Don’t talk to me! I tell you I won’t have it.”

“I will ascertain where she is,” I replied, not unwilling to call at the house of the major, where I might see her.

“Go, and don’t stop long.”

I did go, and I did not stop long. Grace was not at home. She had gone to the Horse Shoe in the same boat with Tommy, where he was to meet Waddie. I reported this intelligence to the colonel.

“That is just what I supposed!” exclaimed he, springing to his feet. “I won’t have it. Get two tickets, Wolf, and take me to the Horse Shoe.”

[26]

“I will, sir.”

“Courting!” snuffed the colonel.

“Who, sir?”

“In love.”

“Who, sir?”

“I won’t have it! No, I won’t.”

By this time I began to believe that I was not the object of his suspicion; but I was very anxious to know who was implicated in this grave charge of “courting,” or of being in love. I knew that Nick Van Wolter, the mate’s son, had gone down to the Horse Shoe with Waddie, in the Raven; and now it appeared that Tommy and Grace had also gone. My present information assured me that Grace was the only young lady of the party, and if any “courting” was meditated, it was plain to me, from the nature of the circumstances, that she must be one of the parties.

I confess that I began to feel very uneasy when the possibility of the occasion dawned upon me. Grace, so far as I knew, was the only lady in the party. If any one was in love with her, who could it be? Certainly it was not Tommy; and it was almost as certain that it could not be Nick Van Wolter, though the [27] latter was a very conceited young man, with assurance enough to fall in love with one so much his superior as Grace. But if it was Nick, why should the colonel trouble himself about the matter? I was satisfied that it could not be Nick. Then it must be Waddie.

My blood seemed to grow cold in my veins as the only reasonable explanation of the problem was forced upon my mind. Such an event would inflame the magnate of Centreport to wrath, for he could conceive of no more terrible calamity than an alliance by marriage between the rival families. I was shocked and confounded. Yet I was reasonable enough to believe that it was the most natural thing in the world for Waddie to fall in love with Grace. She was beautiful and winning beyond any words of mine to express. He was socially her equal, which I was not. Distressed as I was, I could offer no objection to the idea.