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diff --git a/11041-0.txt b/11041-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..43064a3 --- /dev/null +++ b/11041-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7009 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11041 *** + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 11041-h.htm or 11041-h.zip: + (http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/1/1/0/4/11041/11041-h/11041-h.htm) + or + (http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/1/1/0/4/11041/11041-h.zip) + + + + + +THE HALF-BACK + +A Story of School, Football, and Golf + +By + +RALPH HENRY BARBOUR + +Illustrated by B. West Clinedinst + + + + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +TO +EVERY AMERICAN BOY +WHO LOVES HONEST, MANLY SPORT, +THIS STORY IS DEDICATED. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +CHAPTER + + I.--THE BOY IN THE STRAW HAT. + + II.--STATION ROAD AND RIVER PATH. + + III.--OUTFIELD WEST. + + IV.--THE HEAD COACH. + + V.--A RAINY AFTERNOON. + + VI.--THE PRACTICE GAME. + + VII.--A LETTER HOME. + + VIII.--THE GOLF TOURNAMENT. + + IX.--AN EVENING CALL. + + X.--THE BROKEN BELL ROPE. + + XI.--TWO HEROES. + + XII.--THE PROBATION OF BLAIR. + + XIII.--THE GAME WITH ST. EUSTACE. + + XIV.--THE GOODWIN SCHOLARSHIP. + + XV.--THE BOAT RACE. + + XVI.--GOOD-BY TO HILLTON. + + XVII.--THE SACRED ORDER OF HULLABALOOLOO. + + XVIII.--VISITORS FROM MARCHDALE. + + XIX.--A VARSITY SUB. + + XX.--AN OLD FRIEND. + + XXI.--THE DEPARTURE. + + XXII.--BEFORE THE BATTLE. + + XXIII.--HARWELL _vs_. YATES--THE FIRST HALF. + + XXIV.--HARWELL _vs_. YATES--A FAULT AND A REQUITAL. + + XXV.--THE RETURN. + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. + + + +A leap in the nick of time. + +Joel's arrival at school. + +His next drive took him cleanly over Rocky Bunker. + +"Stay where you are; the fellows are bringing a boat". + +The left-guard bore down straight upon Joel. + +Instantly the crimson crew seemed to lift their boat from the water. + + +DIAGRAMS. + +Plan of Hillton Academy Golf Links. + +Diagram of Second Play. + +Diagram of Third Play. + +Positions, Harwell _vs_. Yates. + + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +THE BOY IN THE STRAW HAT. + +"How's craps, Country?" + +"Shut up, Bart! he may hear you." + +"What if he does, ninny? I want him to. Say, Spinach!" + +"Do you suppose he's going to try and play football, Bart?" + +"Not he. He's looking for a rake. Thinks this is a hayfield, Wall." + +The speakers were lying on the turf back of the north goal on the campus +at Hillton Academy. The elder and larger of the two was a rather +coarse-looking youth of seventeen. His name was Bartlett Cloud, +shortened by his acquaintances to "Bart" for the sake of that brevity +beloved of the schoolboy. His companion, Wallace Clausen, was a handsome +though rather frail-looking boy, a year his junior. The two were +roommates and friends. + +"He'd better rake his hair," responded the latter youth jeeringly. "I'll +bet there's lots of hayseed in it!" + +The subject of their derisive remarks, although standing but a scant +distance away, apparently heard none of them. + +"Hi, West!" shouted Bartlett Cloud as a youth, attired in a finely +fitting golf costume, and swinging a brassie, approached. The newcomer +hesitated, then joined the two friends. + +"Hello! you fellows. What's up? Thought it was golf, from the crowd over +here." He stretched himself beside them on the grass. + +"Golf!" answered Bartlett Cloud contemptuously. "I don't believe you +ever think of anything except golf, Out! Do you ever wake up in the +middle of the night trying to drive the pillow out of the window with a +bed-slat?" + +"Oh, sometimes," answered Outfield West smilingly. "There's a heap more +sense in being daft over a decent game like golf than in going crazy +about football. It's just a kid's game." + +"Oh, is it?" growled Bartlett Cloud. "I'd just like to have you opposite +me in a good stiff game for about five minutes. I'd show you something +about the 'kid's game!'" + +"Well, I don't say you couldn't knock me down a few times and walk over +me, but who wants to play such games--except a lot of bullies like +yourself?" + +"Plenty of fellows, apparently," answered the third member of the group, +Wallace Clausen, hastening to avert the threatening quarrel. "Just look +around you. I've never seen more fellows turn out at the beginning of +the season than are here to-day. There must be sixty here." + +"More like a hundred," grunted "Bart" Cloud, not yet won over to good +temper. "Every little freshman thinks he can buy a pair of moleskins and +be a football man. Look at that fellow over yonder, the one with the +baggy trousers and straw hat. The idea of that fellow coming down here +just out of the hayfield and having the cheek to report for football +practice! What do you suppose he would do if some one threw a ball +at him?" + +"Catch it in his hat," suggested Wallace Clausen. + +"He _does_ look a bit--er--rural," said Outfield West, eying the youth +in question. "I fear he doesn't know a bulger from a baffy," he added +sorrowfully. + +"What's more to the subject," said Wallace Clausen, "is that he probably +doesn't know a touch-down from a referee. There's where the fun +will come in." + +"Well, I'm no judge of football, thank goodness!" answered West, "but +from the length of that chap I'll bet he's a bully kicker." + +"Nonsense. That's what a fellow always thinks who doesn't know anything +about the game. It takes something more than long legs to make a +good punter." + +"Perhaps; but there's one thing sure, Bart: that hayseed will be a +better player than you at the end of two months--that is, if he gets +taken on." + +"I'll bet you he won't be able to catch a punt," growled Cloud. "A fool +like him can no more learn football than--than--" + +"Than you could learn golf," continued West sweetly. + +"Oh, shut up! I know a mule that plays golf better than you do." + +"Well, I sha'n't attempt to compete with your friends, Bart." + +"There you both go, quarreling again," cried Clausen. "If you don't shut +up, I'll have to whip the pair of you." + +Wallace Clausen was about two thirds the size of Cloud, and lacked both +the height and breadth of shoulder that made West's popular nickname of +"Out" West seem so appropriate. Clausen's threat was so absurd that +Cloud came back to good humor with a laugh, and even West grinned. + +"Come on, Wall--there's Blair," said Cloud. "You'd better come too, Out, +and learn something about a decent game." West shook his head, and the +other two arose and hurried away to where the captain of the school +eleven was standing beneath the west goal, surrounded by a crowd of +variously attired football aspirants. West, left to himself, sighed +lazily and fell to digging holes in the turf with his brassie. Tiring of +this amusement in a trice, he arose and sauntered over to the side-line +and watched the operations. Some sixty boys, varying in age from fifteen +to nineteen, some clothed in full football rig, some wearing the +ordinary dress in which they had stepped from the school rooms an hour +before, all laughing or talking with the high spirits produced upon +healthy youth by the tonic breezes of late September, were standing +about the gridiron. I have said that all were laughing or talking. This +is not true; one among them was silent. + +For standing near by was the youth who had aroused the merriment of +Cloud and Clausen, and who West had shortly before dubbed "rural." And +rural he looked. His gray and rather wrinkled trousers and his black +coat and vest of cheap goods were in the cut of two seasons gone, and +his discolored straw hat looked sadly out of place among so many warm +caps. But as he watched the scene with intent and earnest face there was +that about him that held West's attention. He looked to be about +seventeen. His height was above the ordinary, and in the broad shoulders +and hips lay promise of great strength and vigor. + +But it was the face that attracted West most. So earnest, honest, and +fearless was it that West unconsciously wished to know it better, and +found himself drawing nearer to the straw hat and baggy gray trousers. +But their owner appeared to be unconscious of his presence and +West paused. + +"I don't believe that chap knows golf from Puss-in-the-Corner," mused +West, "but I'll bet a dozen Silvertowns that he could learn; and that's +more than most chaps here can. I almost believe that I'd loan him my new +dogwood driver!" + +Wesley Blair, captain of the eleven, was bringing order out of chaos. +Blair was one of the leaders in school life at Hillton, a strongly +built, manly fellow, beloved of the higher class boys, adored from a +distance by the youngsters. Blair was serving his second term as +football captain, having been elected to succeed himself the previous +fall. At this moment, attired in the Crimson sweater, moleskin trousers, +and black and crimson stockings that made up the school uniform, he +looked every inch the commander of the motley array that surrounded him. + +"Warren, you take a dozen or so of these fellows over there out of the +way and pass the ball awhile. Get their names first.--Christie, you take +another dozen farther down the field." + +The crowd began to melt away, squad after squad moving off down the +field to take position and learn the rudiments of the game. Blair +assembled the experienced players about him and, dividing them into two +groups, put them to work at passing and falling. The youth with the +straw hat still stood unnoticed on the side-line. When the last of the +squads had moved away he stepped forward and addressed the captain: + +"Where do you want me?" + +Blair, suppressing a smile of amusement as he looked the applicant over, +asked: + +"Ever played any?" + +"Some; I was right end on the Felton Grammar School team last year." + +"Where's Felton Grammar School, please?" + +"Maine, near Auburn." + +"Oh! What's your name?" + +"Joel March." + +"Can you kick?" + +"Pretty fair." + +"Well, show me what you consider pretty fair." He turned to the nearest +squad. "Toss me the ball a minute, Ned. Here's a chap who wants to try +a kick." + +Ned Post threw the ball, and his squad of veterans turned to observe the +odd-looking country boy toe the pigskin. Several audible remarks were +made, none of them at all flattering to the subject of them; but if the +latter heard them he made no sign, but accepted the ball from Blair +without fumbling it, much to the surprise of the onlookers. Among these +were Clausen and Cloud, their mouths prepared for the burst of ironical +laughter that was expected to follow the country boy's effort. + +"Drop or punt?" asked the latter, as he settled the oval in a rather +ample hand. + +"Which can you kick best?" questioned Blair. The youth considered a +moment. + +"I guess I can punt best." He stepped back, balancing the ball in his +right hand, took a long stride forward, swung his right leg in a wide +arc, dropped the ball, and sent it sailing down the field toward the +distant goal. A murmur of applause took the place of the derisive laugh, +and Blair glanced curiously at the former right end-rush of the Felton +Grammar School. + +"Yes, that's pretty fair. Some day with hard practice you may make a +kicker." Several of the older fellows smiled knowingly. It was Blair's +way of nipping conceit in the bud. "What class are you in?" + +"Upper middle," replied the youth under the straw hat, displaying no +disappointment at the scant praise. + +"Well, March, kindly go down the field to that last squad and tell Tom +Warren that I sent you. And say," he continued, as the candidate started +off, and he was struck anew with the oddity of the straw hat and +wrinkled trousers, "you had better tell him that you are the man that +punted that ball." + +"That chap has got to learn golf," said Outfield West to himself as he +turned away after witnessing the incident, "even if I have to hog-tie +him and teach it to him. What did he say his name was? February? March? +That was it. It's kind of a chilly name. I'll make it a point to scrape +acquaintance with him. He's a born golfer. His calm indifference when +Blair tried to 'take him down' was beautiful to see. He's the sort of +fellow that would smile if he made a foozle in a medal play." + +West drew a golf ball from his pocket and, throwing it on the turf, gave +it a half-shot off toward the river, following leisurely after it and +pondering on the possibility of making a crack golfer out of a country +lad in a straw hat. + +Over on the gridiron, meanwhile, the candidates for football honors were +limbering up in a way that greatly surprised not a few of the +inexperienced. It is one thing to watch the game from the grand stand or +side-lines and another to have an awkward, wobbly, elusive spheroid +tossed to the ground a few feet from you and be required to straightway +throw yourself upon it in such manner that when it stops rolling it will +be snugly stowed between you and the ground. If the reader has played +football he will know what this means. If he has not--well, there is no +use trying to explain it to him. He must get a ball and try it +for himself. + +But even this exercise may lose its terrors after a while, and when at +the end of an hour or more the lads were dismissed, there were many +among them, who limped back to their rooms sore and bruised, but proudly +elated over their first day with the pigskin. Even to the youth in the +straw hat it was tiresome work, although not new to him, and after +practice was over, instead of joining in the little stream that eddied +back to the academy grounds, he struck off to where a long straggling +row of cedars and firs marked the course of the river. Once there he +found himself standing on a bluff with the broad, placid stream +stretching away to the north and south at his feet. The bank was some +twenty feet high and covered sparsely with grass and weeds; and a few +feet below him a granite bowlder stuck its lichened head outward from +the cliff, forming an inviting seat from which to view the sunset across +the lowland opposite. The boy half scrambled, half fell the short +distance, and, settling himself in comfort on the ledge, became at once +absorbed in his thoughts. + +Perhaps he was thinking a trifle sadly of the home which he had left +back there among the Maine hills, and which must have seemed a very long +way off; or perhaps he was dwelling in awe upon the erudition of that +excellent Greek gentleman, Mr. Xenophon, whose acquaintance, by means of +the Anabasis, he was just making; or perhaps he was thinking of no more +serious a subject than football and the intricate art of punting. But, +whatever his thoughts may have been, they were doomed to speedy +interruption, as will be seen. + +Outfield West left the campus behind and, with the little white ball +soaring ahead, took his way leisurely to the woods that bordered the +tiny lake. Here he spent a quarter of an hour amid the tall grass and +bushes, fighting his way patiently out of awkward lies, and finally +driving off by the river bank, where a stretch of close, hard sod +offered excellent chances for long shots. Again and again the ball flew +singing on its way, till at last the campus was at hand again, and Stony +Bunker intervened between West and Home. + +Stony Bunker lay close to the river bluff and was the terror of all +Hillton golfers, for, while a too short stroke was likely to leave you +in the sand pit, a too vigorous one was just as likely to land you in +the river. West knew Stony Bunker well by reason of former meetings, and +he knew equally well what amount of swing was necessary to land just +over the hazard, but well short of the bluff. + +Perhaps it was the brassie that was to blame--for a full-length, +supple-shafted, wooden driver would have been what you or I would have +chosen for that stroke--or perhaps West himself was to blame. That as it +may be, the fact remains that that provoking ball flew clear over the +bunker as though possessed of wings and disappeared over the bluff! + +With an exclamation of disgust West hurried after, for when they cost +thirty-five cents apiece golf balls are not willingly lost even by lads +who, like Outfield West, possess allowances far in excess of their +needs. But the first glance down the bank reassured him, for there was +the runaway ball snugly ensconced on the tiny strip of sandy beach that +intervened between the bank and the water. West grasped an overhanging +fir branch and swung himself over the ledge. + +Now, that particular branch was no longer youthful and strong, and +consequently when it felt the full weight of West's one hundred and +thirty-five pounds it simply broke in his hand, and the boy started down +the steep slope with a rapidity that rather unnerved him and brought an +involuntary cry of alarm to his lips. It was the cry that was the means +of saving him from painful results, since at the bottom of the bank lay +a bed of good-sized rocks that would have caused many an ugly bruise had +he fallen among them. + +But suddenly, as he went falling, slipping, clutching wildly at the +elusive weeds, he was brought up with a suddenness that drove the +breath from his body. Weak and panting, he struggled up to the top of +the jutting ledge, assisted by two strong arms, and throwing himself +upon it looked wonderingly around for his rescuer. + +Above him towered the boy in the straw hat. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +STATION ROAD AND RIVER PATH. + +Traveling north by rail up the Hudson Valley you will come, when some +two hours from New York, to a little stone depot nestling at the +shoulder of a high wooded hill. To reach it the train suddenly leaves +the river a mile back, scurries across a level meadow, shrills a long +blast on the whistle, and pauses for an instant at Hillton. If your seat +chances to be on the left side of the car, and if you look quickly just +as the whistle sounds, you will see in the foreground a broad field +running away to the river, and in it an oval track, a gayly colored +grand stand, and just beyond, at some distance from each other, what +appear to the uninitiated to be two gallows. Farther on rises a gentle +hill, crowned with massive elms, from among which tower the tops of a +number of picturesque red-brick buildings. + +Then the train hurries on again, under the shadow of Mount Adam, where +in the deep maple woods the squirrels leap all day among the tree tops +and where the sunlight strives year after year to find its way through +the thick shade, and once more the river is beside you, the train is +speeding due north again, and you have, perhaps without knowing it, +caught a glimpse of Hillton Academy. + +From the little stone station a queer old coach rumbles away down a wide +country road. It carries the mail and the village supplies and, less +often, a traveler; and the driver, "Old Joe" Pike, has grown gray +between the station and the Eagle Tavern. If, instead of going on to the +north, you had descended from the train, and had mounted to the seat +beside "Old Joe," you would have made the acquaintance of a very worthy +member of Hillton society, and, besides, have received a deal of +information as the two stout grays trotted along. + +"Yes, that's the 'Cademy up there among them trees, That buildin' with +the tower's the 'Cademy Buildin', and the squatty one that you can just +see is one of the halls--Masters they call it, after the man that +founded the school. The big, new buildin' is another of 'em, Warren; and +Turner's beyond it; and if you look right sharp you can see Bradley Hall +to the left there. + +"Here's where we turn. Just keep your foot on that mail-bag, if you +please, sir. There's the village, over yonder to the right. Kind of high +up, ain't it? Ev'ry time any one builds he goes higher up the hill. That +last house is old man Snyder's. Snyder says he can't help lookin' down +on the rest of us. He, he! + +"That road to the left we're comin' to 's Academy Road. This? Well, they +used to call it Elm Street, but it's generally just 'the Station Road' +nowadays. Now you can see the school pretty well, sir. That squatty +place's the gymnasium; and them two littler houses of brick's the +laboratories. Then the house with the wide piazza, that's Professor +Wheeler's house; he's the Principal, you know. And the one next it, the +yellow wooden house, I mean, that's what they call Hampton House. It's a +dormatory, same as the others, but it's smaller and more select, as you +might say. + +"Hold tight, sir, around this corner. Most of them, the lads, sir, live +in the village, however. You see, there ain't rooms enough in the +'Cademy grounds. I heard the other day that there's nigh on to two +hundred and twenty boys in the school this year; I can remember when +they was'nt but sixty, and it was the biggest boardin' school for boys +in New York State. And that wa'n't many years ago, neither. The boys? +Oh, they're a fine lot, sir; a bit mischievous at times, of course, but +we're used to 'em in the village. And, bless you, sir, what can you +expect from a boy anyhow? There ain't none of 'em perfect by a long +shot; and I guess I ought to know--I've raised eight on 'em. There's the +town hall and courthouse, and the Methodist church beyond. And here we +are, sir, at the Eagle, and an hour before supper. Thank you, sir. +Get ap!" + + * * * * * + +Hillton Academy claims the distinction of being well over a century old. +Founded in 1782 by one Peter Masters, LL.D., a very good and learned +pedagogue, it has for more than a hundred years maintained its high +estate among boys' schools. The original charter provides "that there +be, and hereby is, established ... an Academy for promoting Piety and +Virtue, and for the Education of Youth in the English, Latin, and Greek +Languages, in Writing, Arithmetic, Music, and the Art of Speaking, +Practical Geometry, Logic, and Geography, and such other of the Liberal +Arts and Sciences or Languages as opportunity may hereafter permit, and +as the Trustees, hereinafter provided, shall direct." + +In the catalogue of Hillton Academy you may find a proud list of +graduates that includes ministers plenipotentiary, members of cabinets, +governors, senators, representatives, supreme court judges, college +presidents, authors, and many, many other equally creditable to their +alma mater. The founder and first principal of the academy passed away +in 1835, as an old record says, "full of honor, and commanding the +respect and love of all who knew him." He was succeeded by that +best-beloved of American schoolmasters, Dr. Hosea Bradley, whose +portrait, showing a tall, dignified, and hale old gentleman, with white +hair, and dressed in ceremonious broadcloth, still hangs behind the +chancel of the school chapel. Dr. Bradley resigned a few years before +his death, in 1876, and the present principal, John Ross Wheeler, A.M., +professor of Latin, took the chair. + +As Professor Wheeler is a man of inordinate modesty, and as he is quite +likely to read these words, I can say but little about him. Perhaps the +statement of a member of the upper middle class upon his return from a +visit to the "office" will serve to throw some light on his character, +Said the boy: + +"I tell _you_ I don't want to go through with that again! I'll take a +licking first! He says things that count! You see, 'Wheels' has been a +boy himself, and he hasn't forgotten it; and that--that makes a +difference somehow!" + +Yes, that disrespectful lad said "Wheels!" I have no excuse to offer for +him; I only relate the incident as it occurred. + +The buildings, many of them a hundred years old, are with one exception +of warm-hued red brick. The gymnasium is built of red sandstone. Ivy has +almost entirely hidden the walls of the academy building and of Masters +Hall. The grounds are given over to well-kept sod, and the massive elms +throw a tapestry of grateful shade in summer, and in winter hold the +snow upon their great limbs and transform the Green into a fairyland of +white. From the cluster of buildings the land slopes away southward, and +along the river bluff a footpath winds past the Society House, past the +boathouse steps, down to the campus. The path is bordered by firs, and +here and there a stunted maple bends and nods to the passing skiffs. + +Opposite the boat house, a modest bit of architecture, lies Long Isle, +just where the river seemingly pauses for a deep breath after its bold +sweep around the promontory crowned by the Academy Buildings. Here and +there along the path are little wooden benches to tempt the passer to +rest and view from their hospitable seats the grand panorama of gently +flowing river, of broad marsh and meadow beyond, of tiny villages +dotting the distances, and of the purple wall of haze marking the line +of the distant mountains. + +Opposite Long Isle, a wonderful fairyland inaccessible to the scholars +save on rare occasions, the river path meets the angle of the Station +Road, where the coach makes its first turn. Then the path grows +indistinct, merges into a broad ten-acre plot whereon are the track, +gridiron, baseball ground, and the beginning of the golf links. This is +the campus. And here is Stony Bunker, and beyond it is the bluff and the +granite ledge; and lo! here we are back again at the point from which we +started on our journey of discovery; back to Outfield West and to the +boy in the ridiculous straw hat. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +OUTFIELD WEST. + +It was several moments before West recovered his breath enough to speak, +during which time he sat and gazed at his rescuer in amazement not +unmixed with curiosity. And the rescuer looked down at West in simple +amusement. + +"Thanks," gasped West at length. "I suppose I'd have broke my silly neck +if you hadn't given me a hand just when you did." + +The other nodded. "You're welcome, of course; but I don't believe you'd +have been very much hurt. What's that thing?" nodding toward the +brassie, still tightly clutched in West's hand. + +"A bras--a golf club. I was knocking a ball around a bit, and it went +over the cliff here." + +"I should think golf was a rather funny sort of a game." + +"It isn't funny at all, if you know anything about it," replied West a +trifle sharply. The rescuer was on dangerous ground, had he but +known it. + +"Isn't it? Well, I guess it is all in getting used to it. I don't +believe I'd care much for tumbling over cliffs that way; I should think +it would use a fellow up after a while." + +"Look here," exclaimed West, "you saved me an ugly fall, and I'm very +much obliged, and all that; but--but you don't know the first thing +about golf, and so you had better not talk about it." He made an effort +to gain his feet, but sat down again with a groan. + +"You sit still a while," said the boy in the straw hat, "and I'll drop +down and get that ball for you." Suiting the action to the word, he +lowered himself over the ledge, and slid down the bank to the beach. He +dropped the golf ball in his pocket, after examining it with deep +curiosity, and started back. But the return was less easy than the +descent had been. The bank was gravelly, and his feet could gain no +hold. Several times he struggled up a yard or so, only to slip back +again to the bottom. + +"I tell you what you do," called West, leaning over. "You get a bit of a +run and get up as high as you can, and try and catch hold of this stick; +then I'll pull you up." + +The other obeyed, and succeeded in getting a firm hold of the brassie, +but the rest was none so easy. West pulled and the other boy struggled, +and then, at last, when both were out of breath, the straw hat rose +above the ledge and its wearer scrambled up. Sitting down beside West he +drew the ball from his pocket and handed it over. + +"What do they make those of?" he asked. + +"Gutta percha," answered West. "Then they're molded and painted this +way. You've never played golf, have you?" + +"No, we don't know much about it down our way. I've played baseball and +football some. Do you play football?" + +"No, I should say not," answered West scornfully. "You see," more +graciously, "golf takes up about all my time when I haven't got some +lesson on; and this is the worst place for lessons you ever saw. A chap +doesn't get time for anything else." The other boy looked puzzled. + +"Well, don't you want to study?" + +West stared in amazement. "Study! Want to? Of course I don't! Do you?" + +"Very much. That's what I came to school for." + +"Oh!" West studied the strange youth dubiously. Plainly, he was not at +all the sort of boy one could teach golf to. "Then why were you trying +for the football team awhile ago?" + +"Because next to studying I want to play football more than anything +else. Don't you think I'll have time for it?" + +"You bet! And say, you ought to learn golf. It's the finest sport +going." West's hopes revived. A fellow that wanted sport, if only +football, could not be a bad sort. Besides, he would get over wanting to +study; that, to West, was a most unnatural desire. "There isn't half a +dozen really first-class players in school. You get some clubs and I'll +teach you the game." + +"That's very good of you," answered the boy in the straw hat, "and I'm +very much obliged, but I don't think I'll have time. You see I'm in the +upper middle, and they say that it's awfully hard to keep up with. +Still, I should really like to try my hand at it, and if I have time +I'll ask you to show me a little about it. I expect you're the best +player here, aren't you?" West, extremely gratified, tried to conceal +his pleasure. + +"Oh, I don't know. There's Wesley Blair--he's captain of the school +eleven, you know--he plays a very good game, only he has a way of +missing short puts. And then there's Louis Whipple. The only thing about +Whipple is that he tries to play with too few clubs. He says a fellow +can play just as well with a driver and a putter and a niblick as he can +with a dozen clubs. Of course, that's nonsense. If Whipple would use +some brains about his clubs he'd make a rather fair player. There are +one or two other fellows in school who are not so bad. But I believe," +magnanimously, "that if Blair had more time for practicing he could beat +_me_." West allowed his hearer a moment in which to digest this. The +straw hat was tilted down over the eyes of its wearer, who was gazing +thoughtfully over the river. + +"I suppose he's kept pretty busy with football." + +"Yes, he's daft about it. Otherwise he's a fine chap. By the way, +where'd you learn to kick a ball that way?" + +"On the farm. I used to practice when I didn't have much to do, which +wasn't very often. Jerry Green and I--Jerry's our hired man--we used to +get out in the cow pasture and kick. Then I played a year with our +grammar-school eleven." + +"Well, that was great work. If you could only drive a golf ball like +that! Say, what's your name?" + +"Joel March." + +"Mine's Outfield West. The fellows call me 'Out' West. My home's in +Pleasant City, Iowa. You come from Maine, don't you?" + +"Yes; Marchdale. It's just a corner store and a blacksmith shop and a +few houses. We've lived there--our family, I mean--for over a +hundred years." + +"Phew!" whistled West. "Dad's the oldest settler in our county, and he's +been there only forty years. Great gobble! We'd better be scooting back +to school. Come on. I'm all right now, though I _was_ a bit lame after +that tumble." + +The two boys scrambled up the bank and set out along the river path. The +sun had gone down behind the mountains, and purple shadows were creeping +up from the river. The tower of the Academy Building still glowed +crimson where the sun-rays shone on the windows. + +"Where's your room?" asked West. + +"Thirty-four Masters Hall," answered Joel March; for now that we have +twice been introduced to him there is no excuse for us to longer +ignore his name. + +"Mine's in Hampton House," said West. "Number 2. I have it all to +myself. Who's in with you?" + +"A fellow named Sproule." + +"'Dickey' Sproule? He's an awful cad. Why didn't you get a room in the +village? You have lots more fun there; and you can get a better room +too; although some of the rooms in Warren are not half bad." + +"They cost too much," replied March. "You see, father's not very well +off, and can't help me much. He pays my tuition, and I've enough money +of my own that I've earned working out to make up the rest. So, of +course, I've got to be careful." + +"Well, you're a queer chap!" exclaimed West. + +"Why?" asked Joel March. + +"Oh, I don't know. Wanting to study, and earning your own schooling, and +that sort of thing." + +"Oh, I suppose your father has plenty of money, hasn't he?" + +"Gobs! I have twenty dollars a month allowance for pocket money." + +"I wish I had," answered March. "You must have a good deal saved up by +the end of the year." West stared. + +"Saved? Why, I'm dead broke this minute. And I owe three bills in town. +Don't tell any one, because it's against the rules to have bills, you +know. Anyhow, what's the good of saving? There's lots more." It was +March's turn to stare. + +"What do you spend it for?" he asked. + +"Oh, golf clubs and balls, and cakes and pies and things," answered West +carelessly. "Then a fellow has to dress a little, or the other fellows +look down on you." + +"Do they?" March cast a glance over his own worn apparel. "Then I guess +I must try their eyes a good deal." + +"Well, I wouldn't care--much," answered West halfheartedly. "Though of +course that hat--" + +"Yes, I suppose it is a little late for straws." West nodded heartily. +"I was going to get a felt in Boston, but--well, I saw something else I +wanted worse; and it was my own money." + +"What was it?" asked West curiously. + +"A book." West whistled. + +"Well, you can get a pretty fair one in the village at Grove's. And--and +a pair of trousers if you want them." + +March nodded, noncommittingly. They had reached the gymnasium. + +"I'm going in for a shower," said West. "You'd better come along." March +shook his head. + +"I guess not to-night. It's most supper time, and I want to read a +little first. Good-night." + +"Good-night," answered West. "I'm awfully much obliged for what you did, +you know. Come and see me to-morrow if you can; Number 2 Hampton. +Good-night." + +Joel March turned and retraced his steps to his dormitory. He found his +roommate reading at the table when he entered Number 34. Sproule looked +up and observed: + +"I saw you with Outfield West a moment ago. It looks rather funny for a +'grind,' as you profess to be, hobnobbing with a Hampton House swell." + +"I haven't professed to be a 'grind,'" answered Joel quietly, as he +opened his Greek. + +"Well, your actions profess it. And West will drop you quicker than a +hot cake when he finds it out. Why, he never studies a lick! None of +those Hampton House fellows do." + +March made no answer, but presently asked, in an effort to be sociable: + +"What are you reading?" + +"The Three Cutters; ever read it?" + +"No; what's it about?" + +"Oh, pirates and smuggling and such." + +"I should think it would be first rate." + +"It is. I'd let you take it after I'm through, only it isn't mine; I +borrowed it from Billy Cozzens." + +"Thanks," answered Joel, "but I don't believe I'd have time for it." + +"Humph!" grunted Sproule. "There you are again, putting on airs. Just +wait until you've been here two or three months; I guess I won't hear so +much about study then." + +Joel received this taunt in silence, and, burying his head in his hands, +tackled the story of Cyrus the Younger. Joel had already come to a +decision regarding Richard Sproule, a decision far from flattering to +that youth. But in view of the fact that the two were destined to spend +much of their time together, Joel recognized the necessity of making the +best of his roommate, and of what appeared to be an unsatisfactory +condition. During the two days that Joel had been in school Sproule had +nagged him incessantly upon one subject or another, and so far Joel had +borne the persecution in silence. "But some day," mused Joel, "I'll just +_have_ to punch his head!" + +Richard Sproule was a member of the senior class, and monitor for the +floor upon which he had his room. He had, perhaps, no positive meanness +in him. Most of his unpleasantness was traceable to envy. Just at +present he was cultivating a dislike for Joel because of the latter's +enviable success at lessons and because a resident of Hampton House had +taken him up. Sproule cared nothing for out-of-door amusements and hated +lessons. His whole time, except when study was absolutely compulsory, +was taken up with the reading of books of adventure; and Captain Marryat +and Fenimore Cooper were far closer acquaintances than either Cicero or +Caesar. Richard Sproule was popularly disliked and shunned. + +In the dining hall that evening Joel ate and relished his first hearty +meal since he had arrived at Hillton. The exercise had brought back a +naturally good appetite, which had been playing truant. + +The dining hall takes up most of the ground floor of Warren Hall. Eight +long, roomy tables are arranged at intervals, with broad aisles between, +through which the white-aproned waiters hurry noiselessly about. +To-night there was a cheerful clatter of spoons and forks and a loud +babel of voices, and Joel found himself hugely enjoying the novelty of +eating in the presence of more than a hundred and fifty other lads. +Outfield West and his neighbors in Hampton House occupied a far table, +and there the noise was loudest. West was dressed like a young prince, +and his associates were equally as splendid. As Joel observed them, West +glanced across and saw him, and waved a hilarious greeting with a soup +spoon. Joel nodded laughingly back, and then settled in his chair with +an agreeable sensation of being among friends. This feeling grew when, +toward the end of his meal, Wesley Blair, in leaving the hall, saw him +and stopped beside his chair. + +"How did you get on this afternoon?" Blair asked pleasantly. + +"Very well, thanks," Joel replied. + +"That's good. By the way, go and see Mr. Beck to-morrow and get +examined. Tell him I sent you. You'll find him at the gym at about +eleven. And don't forget to show up to-morrow at practice." + +The elder youth passed on, leaving Joel the center of interest for +several moments. His left-hand neighbor, a boy who affected very red +neckties, and who had hitherto displayed no interest in his presence, +now turned and asked if he knew Blair. + +"No," replied Joel. "I met him only to-day on the football field." + +"Are you on the 'Leven?" + +"No, but I'm trying for it." + +"Well, I guess you'll make it; Blair doesn't often go out of his way to +encourage any one." + +"I hope I shall," answered Joel. "Who is Mr. Beck, please?" + +"He's director of the gym. You have to be examined, you know; if you +don't come up to requirements you can't go in for football." + +"Oh, thank you." And Joel applied himself to his pudding, and wondered +if there was any possibility of his not passing. + +Apparently there was not; for when, on the following day, he presented +himself at the gymnasium, he came through the ordeal of measurement and +test with flying colors, and with the command to pay special attention +to the chest-weights, was released, at liberty to "go in" for any +sport he liked. + +Despite his forebodings, the studies proved not formidable, and at four +o'clock Joel reported for football practice with a comforting knowledge +of duties performed. An hour and a half of steady practice, consisting +of passing, falling, and catching punts, left the inexperienced +candidates in a state of breathless collapse when Blair dismissed the +field. West did not turn up at the gridiron, but a tiny scarlet speck +far off on the golf links proclaimed his whereabouts. + +On the way back to the grounds a number of youthful juniors, bravely +arrayed in their first suits of football togs, loudly denounced the +vigor of the practice, and pantingly made known to each other their +intentions to let the school get along as best it might without their +assistance on its eleven. They would be no great loss, thought Joel, as +he trudged along in the rear of the procession, and their resignation +would probably save Blair the necessity of incurring their dislikes when +the process of "weeding-out" began. + +Although no special attention had been given to Joel during practice, +yet he had been constantly aware of Blair's observation, and had known +that several of the older fellows were watching his work with interest. +His feat of the previous day had already secured to him a reputation +throughout the school, and as the little groups of boys passed him he +heard himself alluded to as "the country fellow that punted fifty yards +yesterday," or "the chap that made that kick." And when the three long, +steep flights of Masters confronted him he took them two steps at a +time, and arrived before the door of Number 34 breathless, but as happy +as a schoolboy can be. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +THE HEAD COACH. + +"Upper Middle Class: Members will meet at the gym at 2.15, to march to +depot and meet Mr. Remsen." + + "Louis WHIPPLE, _Pres't_." + +This was the notice pasted on the board in Academy Building the morning +of Joel's fifth day at school. Beside it were similar announcements to +members of the other classes. As he stood in front of the board Joel +felt a hand laid on his shoulder, and turned to find Outfield West +by his side. + +"Are you going along?" asked that youth. + +"I don't believe so," answered Joel. "I have a Latin recitation at two." + +"Well, chuck it! Everybody is going--and the band, worse luck!" + +"Is there a band?" West threw up his hands in mock despair. + +"Is there a _band? Is_ there a band! Mr. March, your ignorance surprises +and pains me. It is quite evident that you have never heard the Hillton +Academy Band; no one who has ever heard it forgets. Yes, my boy, there +_is_ a band, and it plays Washington Post, and Hail Columbia, and +Hilltonians; and then it plays them all over again." + +"But I thought Mr. Remsen was not coming until Saturday?" + +"That," replied West, confidentially, "was his intention, but he heard +of a youngster up here who is such an astonishingly fine punter that he +decided to come at once and see for himself; and so he telegraphed to +Blair this morning. And you and I, my lad, will March--see?--with the +procession, and sing--" + + "'Hilltonians, Hilltonians, your crimson banner fling + Unto the breeze, and 'neath its folds your anthem loudly sing! + Hilltonians! Hilltonians! we stand to do or die, + Beneath the flag, the crimson flag, that waves for victory!'" + +And, seizing Joel by the arm, West dragged him out of the corridor and +down the steps into the warm sunlight of a September noon, chanting the +school song at the top of his voice. A group of boys on the Green +shouted lustily back, and the occupant of a neighboring window threw a +cushion with unerring precision at West's head. Stopping to deposit this +safely amid the branches halfway up an elm tree, the two youths sped +across the yard toward Warren Hall and the dinner table. + +"You sit at our table, March," announced West. "Digbee's away, and you +can have his seat. Come on." Joel followed, and found himself in the +coveted precincts of the Hampton House table, and was introduced to five +youths, who received him very graciously, and invited him to partake of +such luxuries as pickled walnuts and peach marmalade. Joel was fast +making the discovery that to be vouched for by Outfield West invariably +secured the highest consideration. + +"I've been telling March here that it is his bounden duty to go to the +station," announced West to the table at large. + +"Of course it is," answered Cooke and Cartwright and Somers, and two +others whose names Joel did not catch. "The wealth, beauty, and fashion +will attend in a body," continued Cooke, a stout, good-natured-looking +boy of about nineteen, who, as Joel afterward learned, was universally +acknowledged to be the dullest scholar in school. "Patriotism +and--er--school spirit, you know, March, demand it." And Cooke helped +himself bountifully to West's cherished bottle of catsup. + +"This is Remsen's last year as coach, you see," explained West, as he +rescued the catsup. "I believe every fellow feels that we ought to show +our appreciation of his work by turning out in force. It's the least we +can do, I think. Mind you, I don't fancy football a little bit, but +Remsen taught us to win from St. Eustace last year, and any one that +helps down Eustace is all right and deserves the gratitude of the school +and all honest folk." + +"Hear! hear!" cried Somers. + +"I'd like very well to go," said Joel, "but I've got a recitation at +two." Cooke looked across at him sorrowfully. + +"Are you going in for study?" he asked. + +"I'm afraid so," answered Joel laughingly. + +"My boy, don't do it. There's nothing gained. I've tried it, and I speak +from sad experience." + +"But how do you get through?" questioned Joel. + +"I will tell you." The stout youth leaned over and lowered his voice to +a confidential whisper. "I belong to the same society as 'Wheels,' and +he doesn't dare expel me." + +"I wish," said Joel in the laugh that followed, "that I could join that +society." + +"Easy enough," answered Cooke earnestly. "I will put your name up at our +next meeting. All you have to do is to forget all the Greek and Latin +and higher mathematics you ever knew, give your oath never to study +again, and appear at chapel two consecutive mornings in thigh boots and +a plaid ulster." + +Despite West's pleas Joel refused to "cut" his recitation, promising, +however, to follow to the station as soon as he might. + +"It's only a long mile," West asserted. "If you cut across Turner's +meadow you'll make it in no time. And the train isn't due until three. +You'll see me standing on the truck." And so Joel had promised, and +later, from the seclusion of the schoolroom, which to-day was well-nigh +empty, had heard the procession take its way down the road, headed by +the school band, which woke the echoes with the brave strains of the +Washington Post March. + +To-day the Aeneid lost much of its interest, and when the recitation was +over Joel clapped his new brown felt hat on his head--for West had +conducted him to the village outfitter the preceding day--and hurried up +to his room to leave his book and pad. "Dickey" Sproule was stretched +out upon the lounge--a piece of personal property of which he was very +proud--reading Kenilworth. + +"Hello!" cried Joel, "why aren't you over at the lab? Isn't this your +day for exploding things?" Sproule looked up and yawned. + +"Oh, I cut it. What's the good of knowing a lot of silly chemistry stuff +when you're going to be an author?" + +"I should say it might be very useful to you; but I've never been an +author, and perhaps I'm mistaken. Want to go to the station?" + +"What, to meet that stuck-up Remsen? I guess not. Catch me walking a +mile and a half to see him!" + +"Well, I'm going," answered Joel. An inarticulate growl was the only +response, and Joel took the stairs at leaps and bounds, and nearly upset +Mrs. Cowles in the lower hall. + +"Dear me, Mr. March!" she exclaimed, as together they gathered up a load +of towels, "is it only you, then? I thought surely it was a dozen boys +at least." + +"I'm very sorry," laughed Joel. "I'm going to the station. Mr. Remsen +is coming, you know. Have I spoiled these?" + +"No, indeed. So Mr. Remsen's coming. Well, run along. I'd go myself if I +wasn't an old woman. I knew Mr. Remsen ten years ago, and a more +bothersome lad we never had. He had Number 15, and we never knew what to +expect next. One week he'd set the building on fire with his +experiments, and the next he'd break all the panes in the window with +his football. But then he was such a nice boy!" And with this seemingly +contradictory statement the Matron trudged away with her armful of +towels, and Joel took up his flight again, across the yard to Academy +Road, and thence over the fence into Turner's meadows, where the hill +starts on its rise to the village. Skirting the hill, he trudged on +until presently the station could be seen in the distance. And as he +went he reviewed the five days of his school existence. + +He remembered the strange feeling of loneliness that had oppressed him +on his arrival, when, just as the sun was setting over the river, he had +dropped down from the old stage coach in front of Academy Hall, a +queer-looking, shabbily dressed country boy with a dilapidated leather +valise and a brown paper parcel almost as big. He remembered the looks +of scorn and derision that had met him as he had taken his way to the +office, and, with a glow at his heart, the few simple, kindly words of +welcome and the firm grasp of the hand from the Principal. Then came the +first day at school, with the dread examinations, which after all +turned out to be fairly easy, thanks to Joel's faculty for remembering +what he had once learned. He remembered, too, the disparaging remarks of +"Dickey" Sproule, who had predicted Joel's failure at the "exams.". "Who +ever heard," Sproule had asked scornfully, "of a fellow making the upper +middle class straight out of a country grammar school, without any +coaching?" But when the lists were posted, Joel's name was down, and +Sproule had taken deep offense thereat. "The school's going to the +dogs," he had complained. "Examinations aren't nearly as hard as they +were when _I_ entered." + +The third day, when he had kicked that football down the field, and, +later, had made the acquaintance of Outfield West, seemed now to have +been the turning point from gloom to sunshine. Since then Joel had +changed from the unknown, derided youth in the straw hat to some one of +importance; a some one to whom the captain of the school eleven spoke +whenever they met, a chum of the most envied boy in the Academy, and a +candidate for the football team for whom every fellow predicted success. + +But, best of all, in those few days he had gained the liking of +well-nigh all of the teachers by the hearty way in which he pursued +knowledge; for he went at Caesar as though he were trying for a +touch-down, and tackled the Foundations of Rhetoric as though that study +was an opponent on the gridiron. Even Professor Durkee, known +familiarly among the disrespectful as "Turkey," lowered his tones and +spoke with something approaching to mildness when addressing Joel March. +Altogether, the world looked very bright to Joel to-day, and when, as +presently, he drew near to the little stone depot, the sounds of singing +and cheering that greeted his ears chimed in well with his mood. + +Truly "all Hillton" had turned out! The station platform and the trim +graveled road surrounding it were dark with Hilltonian humanity and gay +with crimson bunting. Afar down the road a shrill long whistle announced +the approach of the train, and a comparative hush fell on the crowd. +Joel descried Outfield West at once, and pushed his way to him through +the throng just as the train came into sight down the track. West was +surrounded on the narrow baggage truck by some half dozen of the choice +spirits from Hampton House, and Joel's advent was made the occasion for +much sport. + +"Ah, he comes! The Professor comes!" shouted West. + +"He tears himself from his studies and joins us in our frivolity," +declaimed Cooke. + +"That's something you'll never have a chance of doing, Tom," answered +Cartwright, as Joel was hauled on to the truck. "You'll never get near +enough to a study to have to be torn away." + +"Study, my respected young friend," answered Cooke gravely, "is the +bane of the present unenlightened age. In the good old days when +everybody was either a Greek or a Roman or a barbarian, and so didn't +have to study languages, and--" + +"Shut up! here's the train," cried West. "Now every fellow cheer, or +he'll have me to fight." + +"Hooray! hooray! hooray!" yelled Cooke. + +"Somebody punch him, please," begged West, and Somers and another +obliging youth thrust the offender off the truck and sat on his head. +The train slowed down, stopped, and a porter appeared laden with a huge +valise. This was the signal for a rush, and the darkey was instantly +relieved of his burden and hustled back grinning to the platform. + +Then Joel caught sight of a gentleman in a neat suit of gray tweed +descending the steps, and saw the pupils heave and push their ways +toward him; and for a sight the arrival was hidden from view. Then the +cheers for "Coach!" burst enthusiastically forth, the train was speeding +from sight up the track, the band was playing Hilltonians, and the +procession took up its march back to the Academy. + +When he at last caught a fair sight of Stephen Remsen, Joel saw a man of +about twenty-eight years, gayly trudging at the head of the line, his +handsome face smiling brightly as he replied to the questions and +sallies of the more elderly youths who surrounded him. Joel's heart went +out to Stephen Remsen at once. And neither then nor at any future time +did he wonder at it. + +"That," thought Joel, "is the kind of fellow I'd like for a big brother. +Although I never _could_ grow big enough to lick him." + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +A RAINY AFTERNOON. + +The following day Joel arrived on the football field to discover the +head coach in full charge. He was talking earnestly to Wesley Blair. His +dress was less immaculate than upon the preceding afternoon, although +not a whit less attractive to Joel. A pair of faded and much-darned +red-and-black striped stockings were surmounted by a pair of soiled and +patched moleskin trousers. His crimson jersey had faded at the shoulders +to a pathetic shade of pink, and one sleeve was missing, having long +since "gone over to the enemy." In contrast to these articles of apparel +was his new immaculate canvas jacket, laced for the first time but a +moment before. But he looked the football man that he was from head to +toe, and Joel admired him immensely and was extremely proud when, as he +was passing, Blair called him over and introduced him to Remsen. The +latter shook hands cordially, and allowed his gaze to travel +appreciatingly over Joel's five feet eight inches of bone and muscle. + +"I'm glad to know you, March," he said, "and glad that you are going to +help us win." + +The greeting was so simple and sincere that Joel ran down the field a +moment later, feeling that football honors were even more desirable than +before. To-day the throng of candidates had dwindled down to some forty, +of whom perhaps twenty were new men. The first and second elevens were +lined up for the first time, and Joel was placed at left half in the +latter. An hour of slow practice followed. The ball was given to the +first eleven on almost every play, and as the second eleven were kept +entirely on the defensive, Joel had no chance to show his ability at +either rushing or kicking. Remsen was everywhere at once, scolding, +warning, and encouraging in a breath, and the play took on a snap and +vim which Wesley Blair, unassisted, had not been able to introduce. +After it was over, Joel trotted back with the others to the gymnasium +and took his first shower bath. On the steps outside was West, and the +two boys took their way together to the Academy Building. + +"Did you hear Remsen getting after Bart Cloud?" asked West. + +"No. Who is Cloud?" + +"He plays right half or left half, I forget which, on the first eleven," +answered West, "and he's about the biggest cad in the school. His +father's an alderman in New York, they say, and has lots of money; but +he doesn't let Bart handle much of it for him. He played on the team +last year and did good work. But this season he's got a swelled head and +thinks he doesn't have to play to keep his place; thinks it's mortgaged +to him, you see. Remsen opened his eyes to-day, I guess! Whipple says +Remsen called him down twice, and then told him if he didn't take a big +brace he'd lose his position. Cloud got mad and told Clausen--Clausen's +his chum--that if he went off the team he'd leave school. I guess few of +us would be sorry. Bartlett Cloud's a coward from the toes up, March, +and if he tries to make it unpleasant for you, why, just offer to knock +him down and he'll change his tune." + +"Thank you for telling me," responded Joel, "but I don't expect to have +much to do with him; I don't like his looks. I know the boy you mean, +now. He's the fellow that called me names--'Country,' you know, and +such--the first day we had practice. I heard him, but didn't let on. I +didn't mind much, but it didn't win my love." West laughed uproariously +and slapped Joel on the back. + +"Oh, you're a queer sort, March. I'd have had a fight on the spot. But +you--Say, you're going to be an awful grind, March, if you keep on in +your present terrible course. You won't have time for any fun at all. +And I was going to teach you golf, you know. It's not nice of you, it +really isn't." + +"I'll play golf with you the first afternoon we don't have practice, +West, honestly. I'm awfully sorry I'm such a crank about lessons, but +you see I've made up my mind to try for the--the--what scholarship +is that?" + +"Carmichael?" suggested West. Joel shook his head. + +"No, the big one." West stared. + +"Do you mean the Goodwin scholarship?" + +"Yes, that's the one," answered Joel. West whistled. + +"Well, you're not modest to hurt, March. Why, man, that's a terror! You +have to have the Greek alphabet backward, and never miss chapel all term +to get a show at that. The Goodwin brings two hundred and +forty dollars!" + +"That's why I want it," answered Joel. "If I win it it will pay my +expenses for this year and part of next." + +"Well, of course I hope you'll make it," answered West, "but I don't +believe you have much show. There's Knox, and Reeves, and--and two or +three others all trying for it. Knox won the Schall scholarship last +year. That carries two hundred even." + +"Well, anyhow, I'll try hard," answered Joel resolutely. + +"Of course. You ought to have it; you need it. Did I tell you that I won +a Masters scholarship in my junior year? Yes, I did really. It was forty +dollars. I remember that I bought two new putters and a jolly fine +caddie bag." + +"You could do better than that if you'd try, West. You're awfully +smart." + +"Who? Me?" laughed West. "Pshaw! I can't do any more than pass my exams. +Of course I'm smart enough when it comes to lofting out of a bad lie or +choosing a good club; but--" He shook his head doubtfully, but +nevertheless seemed pleased at the idea. + +"No, I mean in other ways," continued Joel earnestly. "You could do +better than half the fellows if you tried. And I wish you would try, +West. You rich fellows in Hampton House could set such a good example +for the youngsters if you only would. As it is, they admire you and envy +you and think that it's smart to give all their time to play. I know, +because I heard some of them talking about it the other day. 'You don't +have to study,' said one; 'look at those swells in Hampton. They just go +in for football and golf and tennis and all that, and they never have +any trouble about passing exams.'" West whistled in puzzled amazement. + +"Why, March, you're setting out as a reformer; and you're talking just +like one of those good boys in the story books. What's up?" Joel smiled +at the other boy's look of wonderment. + +"Nothing's up, except that I want you to promise to study more. Of +course, I know it sounds cheeky, West, but I don't mean to meddle in +your business. Only--only--" Joel hesitated. + +"Only what? Out with it!" said West. They had reached the Academy +Building and had paused on the steps. + +"Well, only--that you've been very kind to me, West, and I hate to see +you wasting your time and know that you will wish you hadn't later, when +you've left school, you know. That's all. It isn't that I want to +meddle--" There was a moment of silence. Then: + +"The idea of your caring!" answered West. "You're a good chap, March, +and--I tell you what I'll do. I _will_ go in more for lessons, after +next week. You see there's the golf tournament next Saturday week, and +I've got to put in a lot of hard practice between now and then. But +after that I'll try and buckle down. You're right about it, March, I +ought to do more studying, and I will _try_; although I don't believe +I'll make much of a success as a 'grind.' And as to the--the--the rest +that you said, why, I haven't been extraordinarily kind; I just sort of +took to you that day on the campus because you looked to be such a +plucky, go-ahead, long-legged chap, you know. I thought I'd rescue you +from the ranks of the lowly and teach you golf and make a man of you +generally. Instead of that"--West gave one of his expressive +whistles--"instead of that, why, here you are turning me into a regular +'Masters Hall grind.' Thus do our brightest dreams fade. Well, I'm oil. +Don't forget the upper middle class meeting to-night. They're going to +vote on the Class Crew question, and we want all the votes we can get to +down the fellows that don't want to pay the assessment. Good-night." + +And Outfield West took himself off toward his room, his broad shoulders +well back, and his clear, merry voice singing the school song as he +strode along. Joel turned into the library, feeling well satisfied with +the result of his meddling, to pore over a reference book until +supper time. + +The following morning Joel awoke to find a cold rain falling from a +dull sky. The elms in the yard were dripping from every leaf and branch, +and the walks held little gray pools that made the trip to breakfast a +series of splashes. In the afternoon Joel got into his oldest clothes +and tramped over to Hampton House. The window of West's room looked +bright and cheerful, for a big wood fire was blazing on the hearth +within. Joel kicked the mud from his shoes, and passing through the +great white door with its old-fashioned fanlight above, tapped at West's +room. A faint response from beyond the portal summoned him in. + +The owner of the room was sandpapering a golf shaft before the fire, and +a deep expression of discontent was on his face. But his countenance +lighted up at sight of his visitor, and he leaped to his feet and drew a +second armchair before the hearth. + +"You're a brick, March! I was just wishing you roomed near enough so +that I could ask you to come over and talk a bit. Isn't it a +horrible day?" + +"It's awfully wet; but then it has to rain sometimes, I suppose," +answered Joel as he took off his overcoat. + +"Yes, but it doesn't have to rain just when a fellow has fixed to +practice golf, does it?" West growled. Joel laughed. + +"I thought the real, simon-pure golfer didn't mind the weather." + +"He doesn't as long as he can get over the ground, but the links here is +like a quagmire when it rains. But never mind, we'll have a good chummy +afternoon. And I've got some bully gingersnaps. Do you like +gingersnaps?" Joel replied in the affirmative, and West produced a box +of them from under the bed. + +"I have to keep these kinds of things hid, you know, because Blair and +Cooke and the rest of the fellows would eat them all up. By the way, I +made up a list of the things you'll have to get if you're going in for +golf. Here it is. Of course, I only put down one of each, and only a +dozen balls. I'll get the catalogue and we'll reckon up and see how much +they come to." + +"But I don't think I can afford to buy anything like this, West," +answered Joel doubtfully. + +"Nonsense! you've got to! A fellow has to have _necessities_! What's the +first thing on the list? Read 'em off, will you?" + +"Driving cleek," read Joel. + +"Yes, but never mind the clubs. There are seven of them on the list and +you can get pretty fair ones for a dollar and a half each. What's next?" + +"But that makes ten dollars and a half," cried Joel. + +"Of course it does. And cheap enough, too. Why, some of mine cost three +dollars apiece! What's next?" + +"One dozen Silvertowns." + +"Correct; four dollars. Mark it down. Next?" + +"Caddie bag," responded Joel faintly. + +"A dollar and a half. Next." + +"But, West, I can't afford these things." + +"Nonsense, March! Still--well, you can call the bag a dollar even; +though the dollar ones aren't worth much. Mine cost five." + +"But you have coat and trousers down. And shoes, and--" + +"Well, you can leave the shoes out, and get some hobnails and put them +on the soles of any good heavy shoes. Then there's gloves. They cost +about a dollar and a half. As for trousers, you _can_ do with ordinary +ones, but--you've got to have a coat, March. A chap can't swing a club +in a tight-fitting jacket like the one you've got on. Now let's +reckon up." + +"There's no use in doing that, West," laughed Joel. "I can't buy one of +these things, to say nothing of the whole list. I'm saving up for my +football togs, and after I have those I sha'n't be able to buy anything +else for months." + +West settled his chin in his hand and scowled at the flames. "It's too +bad, March; and I put your name up for the Golf Club, too. You will join +that, won't you? You must, now that I've put you up. It's only a dollar +initiation fee and fifty cents dues." + +"Very well, then, I'll join the club," answered Joel. "Though I don't +see what use there is in it, since I haven't anything to play with and +wouldn't know how to play if I had." + +"Well, I'm going to teach you, you know. And as for clubs and things, +why, I've got some oldish ones that will do fairly well; a beginner +doesn't need extra good ones, you see. And then, for clothes--well, I +guess fellows _have_ played in ordinary trousers and coat; and I've +played myself in tennis shoes. And if you don't mind cold hands, why, +you needn't have gloves. So, after all, we'll get on all right." West +was quite cheerful again and, with a wealth of clubs--divers, spoons, +bulgers, putters, baps, niblicks, and many other sorts--on the rug +before him, chattered on about past deeds of prowess on the links until +the room grew dark and the lamps in the yard shone fitfully through the +rain, by which time a dozen clubs in various states of repair had been +laid aside, the gingersnaps had been totally demolished, and West had +forgotten all about the meanness of the weather and his lost practice. + +Then Cooke and Somers demanded admission, to the annoyance of both West +and Joel, and the lamps were lighted, and Joel said good-night and +hurried back to his room in order to secure a half hour's study ere +supper time. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +THE PRACTICE GAME. + +"First and second Eleven rushes and quarters down the field and practice +formations. Backs remain here to kick!" shouted Wesley Blair. + +It was a dull and cold afternoon. The last recitation was over and half +the school stood shivering about the gridiron or played leapfrog to keep +warm. Stephen Remsen, in the grimiest of moleskins, stood talking to the +captain, and, in obedience to the command of the latter, some fifteen +youths, clad for the coming fray, were trotting down the field, while +eight others, backs and substitute backs on the two teams, passed and +dropped on the pigskin in an endeavor to keep warm. + +The first and second elevens were to play their first real game of the +season at four o'clock, and meanwhile the players were down for a stiff +thirty minutes of practice. Joel March shivered with the rest of the +backs and waited for the coach and the captain to finish their +consultation. Presently Blair trotted off down the field and Remsen +turned to the backs. + +"Browne, Meach, and Turner, go down to about the middle of the field +and return the balls. Cloud, take a ball over nearer the side-line and +try some drop-kicks. Post, you do the same, please. And let me see, what +is your name?" addressing a good-looking and rather slight youth. "Ah, +yes, Clausen. Well, Clausen, you and Wills try some punts over there, +and do try and get the leg swing right. March, take that ball and let me +see you punt." + +Then began a time of sore tribulation for Joel; for not until ten +minutes had passed did the ball touch his toe. His handling was wrong, +his stepping out was wrong, and his leg-swing was very, very wrong! But +he heard never a cross word from his instructor, and so shut his lips +tight and bore the lecture in good-humored silence. + +"There," announced Remsen finally, "that's a lot better. Now kick." Joel +caught the ball nicely, and sent it sailing far down the field. + +"That's a good kick, but it would have been better had you landed higher +up on your foot. Try and catch the ball just in front of the arch of the +foot. You take it about on the toe-cap. Remember that the broader the +surface that propels the ball the greater will be the accuracy--that is, +the ball has less chance of sliding off to one side when the striking +surface is large. Here's your ball coming. Now try again, and remember +what I have said about the swing at the hip. Forget that you have any +joints at all, and just let the right side of you swing round as +it will." + +Then Remsen passed on to the next man and Joel pegged away, doing +better and better, as he soon discovered, every try, until a whistle +blew from the middle of the field and the players gathered about the +captains on the fifty-five-yard line. Joel was down to play left half on +the second eleven, and beside him, at right, was Wills, a promising +lower middle boy, who was an excellent runner, but who, so far, had +failed to develop any aptitude for kicking. Cloud and Clausen occupied +similar positions on the first eleven, and behind them stood Wesley +Blair, the best full-back that Hillton Academy had possessed for many +years. The full-back on the second eleven was Ned Post, a veteran +player, but "as erratic as a mule," to use the words of Stephen Remsen. + +The first eleven was about six pounds heavier in the line than the team +captained by Louis Whipple, who played at quarter, and about the same +weight behind the line. It was a foregone conclusion that the first +would win, but whether the second would score was a mooted point. Joel +felt a bit nervous, now that he was in his first game of consequence, +but forgot all about it a moment later when the whistle blew and Greer, +the big first eleven center, tore through their line for six yards, +followed by Wallace Clausen with the ball. Then there was a delay, for +the right half when he tried to arise found that his ankle was strained, +and so had to limp off the ground supported by Greer and Barnard, the +one-hundred-and-sixty-pound right tackle. Turner, a new player, went +on, and the ball was put in play again, this time for a try through left +tackle. But the second's line held like a stone wall, and the runner was +forced back with the loss of a yard. Then the first eleven guards fell +back, and when the formation hit the second's line the latter broke like +paper, and the first streamed through for a dozen yards. And so it went +until the second found itself only a few yards from its goal line. +There, with the backs pressed close against the forwards, the second +held and secured the ball on downs, only to lose it again by a fumble on +the part of Post. Then a delayed pass gained two yards for the first and +a mass at left tackle found another. But the next play resulted +disastrously, for when the ball was passed back there was no one to take +it, and the quarter was borne back several yards before his own +astounded players could come to his assistance. + +"That about settles Cloud," whispered Post to Joel, as they hurried up +to take the new position. "That was his signal to take the leather +through right end, and he was fast asleep. Remsen's laying for him." + +But the advantage to the second was of short duration, for back went the +first's guards again, and down came the ball to their goal line with +short, remorseless gains, and presently, when their quarter knelt on the +last white line, the dreaded happened, and Blair lay between the posts +with half the second eleven on top of him, but with the ball a yard over +the line. An easy goal resulted, and just as the teams trotted back to +mid-field the whistle sounded, and the first twenty-minute half +was done. + +The players wrapped themselves warmly in blankets and squatted in the +protection of the fence, and were immediately surrounded by the +spectators. Remsen and Blair talked with this player and that, +explaining his faults or saying a good word for his work. In the second +half many of the second eleven went into the first, the deposed boys +retiring to the side-lines, and several substitutes were put into the +second. Joel went back to full, Ned Post taking Clausen's place at right +half on the first eleven and Turner becoming once more a spectator. + +It was the second eleven's ball, and Joel raced down the field after the +kick-off as far as their twenty-yard line, and there caught Blair's +return punt very neatly, ran three yards under poor interference, and +was then seized by the mighty Greer and hurled to earth with a shock +that completely took the breath out of him for a moment. But he was soon +on his feet again, and Whipple gave him an encouraging slap as he +trotted back to his place. The next play was an ordinary formation with +the ends back, and the ball passed to left end for a run back of quarter +and through the line outside of guard. It worked like a charm, and left +end sped through with Joel bracing him at the turn and the left half +going ahead. Four yards were netted, Meach, the substitute left half, +being tackled by Post. In the mix-up that followed Joel found himself +sprawling over the runner, with Cloud sitting astride the small of his +back, a very uncomfortable part of the body with which to support a +weighty opponent. But he would not have minded that alone; but when +Cloud arose his foot came into violent contact with Joel's head, which +caused that youth to see stars, and left a small cut back of his ear. + +"That wasn't an accident," muttered Joel, as he picked himself up and +eyed Cloud. But the latter was unconcernedly moving to his position, and +Joel gave his head a shake or two and resolved to forgive and forget. A +play similar to the last was next tried with an outlet on the other +side, outside tackle. But it resulted in a loss of a yard, and at the +next down the ball was thrown back to Joel, who made a poor catch and +followed it with a short high punt to the opponent's forty yards. + +"Your head's cut, March," said Wills, as they took up the new position. +Joel nodded. "Cloud," he answered briefly. + +"Punch him," answered Wills. "He's mad because he made such a bull of +his play in the other half. If he tries tricks with me--" + +"If he does, let him alone, if you want to stay on the team," said Joel. +"That sort of thing doesn't help. Watch your chance and spoil a play of +his. That's the best way to get even." + +The next ten minutes were spent in desperate attack on the part of the +first and an equally desperate defense by the second eleven. Twenty +yards of gain for the former was the result, and the half was nearly up. +On a first down Blair ran back and Joel, whispering "Kick!" to himself, +turned and raced farther back from the line. Then the ball was snapped, +there was a crossing of backs, and suddenly, far out around the right +end came Cloud with the pigskin tightly clutched, guarded by Post and +the left end. It was an unexpected play, and the second's halfs saw it +too late. Meach and Wills were shouldered out of the way, and Cloud ran +free from his interference and bore down on Joel, looking very big +and ugly. + +It was Cloud's opportunity to redeem himself, and with only a green +full-back between him and the goal line his chances looked bright +indeed. But he was reckoning without his host. Joel started gingerly up +to meet him. The field was streaming down on Cloud's heels, but too far +away to be in the running. Ten yards distant from Joel, Cloud's right +arm stretched out to ward off a tackle, and his face grew ugly. + +"Keep off!" he hissed as Joel prepared for a tackle. But Joel had no +mind for keeping off; that cut in his head was aching like everything, +and his own advice to Wills occurred to him and made him grin. Cloud +swerved sharply, but he was too heavy to be a good dodger, and with a +leap Joel was on him, tackling hard and true about the runner's hips. +Cloud struggled, made a yard, another, then came to earth with Joel's +head snugly pillowed on his shoulder. A shout arose from the crowd. The +field came up and Joel scrambled to his feet. Cloud, his face red with +chagrin and anger, leaped to his feet, and stepping toward Joel aimed a +vicious blow at his face. The latter ducked and involuntarily raised his +fist; then, ere Greer and some of the others stepped between, turned and +walked away. + +"That will do, Cloud," said Remsen in sharp, incisive tones. "You may +leave." + +And with a muttered word of anger Cloud strode from the field, passing +through the silent and unsympathetic throng with pale face and +black looks. + +"First's ball down here," cried Greer, and play went on; but Joel had +lost his taste for it, and when, a few minutes later, neither side +having scored again, time was called, he trotted back to the gymnasium +in a depressed mood. + +"You did great work," exclaimed Outfield West, as he joined Joel on the +river path. "That settles Cloud's chances. Remsen was laying for him +anyhow, you know, and then that 'slugging!' Remsen hates dirty playing +worse than anything, they say." + +"I'm sorry it happened, though," returned Joel. + +"Pshaw! don't you be afraid of Cloud. He's all bluster." + +"I'm not afraid of him. But I'm sorry he lost the team through me. Of +course I couldn't have let him go by, and I don't suppose it could have +been helped, but I wish some one else had tackled him." + +"Of course, it couldn't have been helped," responded West cheerfully. +"And I'm glad it couldn't. My! isn't Cloud mad! I passed him a minute or +two ago. 'You ought to try golf, Bart,' said I. You should have seen the +look he gave me. I guess it was rather like 'rubbing it in.'" And West +grinned hugely at the recollection. + +"How about the tournament, West?" asked Joel. + +"Fine! There are twelve entries, and we're going to begin at nine in the +morning. I did the fourth hole this afternoon in two, and the eighth in +three. No one has ever done the fourth in two before; it's the Bogey +score. Don't forget that you have promised to go around with me. They +say Whipple is practicing every morning over in Turner's meadow. What +with that and football he's a pretty busy lad, I dare say. Don't forget, +nine o'clock day after to-morrow." + +And Outfield West waved his hand gayly and swung off toward Hampton +House, while Joel entered the gymnasium and was soon enjoying the luxury +of a shower bath and listening to the conversation of the others. + +"There'll be a shake-up to-morrow," observed Warren as he rubbed himself +dry with a big, crimson-bordered towel. "Mr. Remsen wasn't any too well +pleased to-day. He's going to put Greer on the scrub to-morrow." + +"That's where you might as well be," answered the big center +good-naturedly. "The idea of playing a criss-cross with your right end +on the side-line!" + +"We took two yards just the same," replied Warren. + +"We gave it to you, my lad, because we knew that if you lost on such a +fool play your name would be--well, anything but Thomas 'Stumpy' +Warren." The reply to this sally was a boot launched at the center rush, +for Tom Warren's middle name was in reality Saalfield, and "Stumpy" was +a cognomen rather too descriptive to be relished by the quarter-back. +Greer returned the missile with interest, and the fight grew warm, and +boots and footballs and shin-guards filled the air. + +In the dining hall that evening interest was divided between the golf +match to be played on the following Saturday morning and the football +game with the Westvale Grammar School in the afternoon. Golf had fewer +admirers than had the other sport, but what there were were fully as +enthusiastic, and the coming tournament was discussed until Joel's head +whirled with such apparently outlandish terms as "Bogey," "baffy," +"put," "green," "foozle," and "tee." + +Whipple, Blair, and West all had their supporters, and Joel learned a +number of marvelous facts, as, for instance, that Whipple had "driven +from Purgatory to The Hill in five," that Blair was "putting better than +Grimes did last year," and that "West had taken four to get out of +Sandy." All of which was undoubtedly intensely interesting, but was as +so much Sanskrit to Joel; and he walked back to his room after supper +with a greatly increased respect for the game of golf. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +A LETTER HOME. + +One of Joel's letters written to his mother at about this time contains +much that will prove of interest to the reader who has followed the +fortunes of that youth thus far. It supplied a certain amount of +information appreciated only by its author and its recipient: facts +regarding woolen stockings; items about the manner in which the boy's +washing was done; a short statement of his financial condition; a weak, +but very natural, expression of home-longing. But such I will omit, as +being too private in character for these pages. + +"... I don't think you need worry. Outfield West is rather idle about +study, but he doesn't give Satan much of a show, for he's about the +busiest fellow I know in school. He's usually up a good hour before +breakfast, which we have at eight o'clock, and puts in a half hour +practicing golf before chapel. Then in the afternoon he's at it again +when the weather will let him, and he generally spends his evenings, +when not studying, in mending his clubs or painting balls. Then he's one +of the canvassers for the class crew; and belongs to the Senior Debating +Club, which draws its members from the two upper classes; and he's +president of the Golf Club. So you can see that he's anything but idle, +even if he doesn't bother much about lessons. + +"He's naturally a very bright fellow; otherwise he couldn't get along +with his classes. I grow to like him better every day; he's such a +manly, kind-hearted fellow, and one of the most popular in school. He's +rather big, with fine, broad shoulders, and awfully good-looking. He has +light-brown hair, about the color of Cousin George's, and bright blue +eyes; and he always looks as though he had just got out of the +bath-tub--only stopped, of course, to put his clothes on. I guess we +must be pretty old-fashioned in our notions, we Maine country folks, +because so many of my pet ideas and beliefs have been changed since I +came here. You know with us it has always gone without dispute that rich +boys are mean and worthless, if not really immoral. But here they're not +that way. I guess we never had much chance to study rich people up our +way, mother. At the grammar school all the fellows looked down on +wealthy boys; but we never had any of them around. The richest chap was +Gilbert, whose father was a lumberman, and Gilbert used to wear shoes +that you wouldn't give to a tramp. + +"I suppose West's father could buy Mr. Gilbert out twenty times and not +miss the money. Outfield--isn't it a queer name?--spends a lot of money, +but not foolishly; I mean he has no bad habits, like a few of the +fellows. I hope you will meet him some time. Perhaps I could have him +up to stay a few days with me next summer. He'd be glad to come. + +"No, my roommate, Sproule, doesn't improve any on acquaintance. But I've +got so I don't mind him much. I don't think he's really as mean as he +makes you believe. He's having hard work with his studies nowadays, and +has less time to find fault with things. + +"You ask how I spend my time. Dear little mother, you don't know what +life in a big boarding school like Hillton is. Why, I haven't an idle +moment from one day's end to the next. Here's a sample. This morning I +got up just in time for chapel--I'm getting to be a terrible chap for +sleeping late--and then had breakfast. By that time it was quarter to +nine. At nine I went to my mathematics. Then came Latin, then English. +At twelve I reported on the green and practiced signals with the second +squad until half past. Then came lunch. After lunch I scurried up to my +room and dug up on chemistry, which was at one-thirty. Then came Greek +at half past two. Then I had an hour of loafing--that is, I should have +had it, but I was afraid of my to-morrow's history, so put in part of +the time studying that. At a little before four I hurried over to the +gymnasium, got into football togs, and reached the campus 'just in time +to be in time.' We had a stiff hour's practice with the ball and learned +two new formations. When I got back to the 'gym' it was a quarter past +five. I had my bath, rubbed down, did two miles on the track, exercised +with the weights, and got to supper ten minutes late. West came over to +the room with me and stayed until I put him out, which was hard work +because he's heavier than I am, and I got my books out and studied until +half an hour ago. It is now just ten o'clock, and as soon as I finish +this I shall tumble into bed and sleep like a top. + +"I can't answer your question about Mr. Remsen, because I do not know +him well enough to ask about his home or relatives. But his first name +is Stephen. Perhaps he is a relative of the Remsens you mention. Some +day I'll find out. Anyhow, he's the grandest kind of a fellow. I suppose +he's about thirty. He has plenty of money, West says, and is a lawyer by +profession. He has coached Hillton for three years, and the school has +won two out of three of its big games during those years. The big game, +as they call it, is the game on Thanksgiving Day with St. Eustace +Academy, of Marshall. This fall it is played here.... + +"Please tell father that I am getting on well with my studies, but not +to hope too much for the Goodwin Scholarship. There are so many, many +smart fellows here! Sometimes I think I haven't a ghost of a show. +But--well, I'm doing my best, and, after all, there are some other +scholarships that are worth getting, though I don't believe I shall be +satisfied with any other. West says I'm cheeky to even expect a show at +the Goodwin.... All the professors are very nice; even 'Turkey.' His +real name is Durkee, and he is professor of English. He is not popular +among the fellows, but is an awfully good instructor. The principal, +Professor Wheeler, is called 'Wheels,' but it sounds worse than it is. +Every one likes him. He is not at all old, and talks to the fellows +about football and golf; and West says he can play a fine game of the +latter when he tries. + +"I have been elected to the Golf Club and have joined. It costs a dollar +and a half for this year, but West wanted me to join so much that I did. +There are a lot of nice fellows in it--the sort that it is well to know. +And I am going to try for the Senior Debating Club after the +holidays.... Tell father that he wouldn't be so down on football if he +could see the fellows that play it here at Hillton. Mr. Remsen is head +coach, as I have told you. Then there is an advisory committee of one +pupil, one graduate, and one professor. These are Wesley Blair, Mr. +Remsen, and Professor MacArthur. Then there is a manager, who looks +after the business affairs; and a trainer, who is Professor Beck; and, +of course, a captain. Wesley Blair is the captain. The second eleven is +captained by Tom Warren, who is a fine player, and who is substitute +quarter-back on the first or school eleven. In a couple of weeks both +the first and second go to training tables: the first at one of the +boarding houses in the village and the second in the school dining hall. +When that happens we go into training for sure, and have to be in bed +every night at ten sharp and get up every morning at seven. I'm pretty +sure now of a place on the second, and may possibly make the first +before the season's done.... + +"Of course, I want the overcoat. But you had better send it as it is, +and I will have the tailor here in the village cut it over. He is very +moderate in charges and does good work, so West tells me, and in this +way it will be sure to fit right. Thank father for me, please.... +Good-night.... + +"Your loving son, + +"JOEL." + +The opportunity to inquire regarding Stephen Remsen's family connections +presented itself to Joel on the day preceding the golf tournament and +the football game with Westvale. On account of the latter there had been +only a half hour of light practice for the two squads, and Joel at half +past four had gone to his room to study. But when it came time to puzzle +out some problems in geometry Joel found that his paper was used up, +and, rather than borrow of his neighbors, he pulled on his cap and +started for the village store. + +October had brought warm weather, and this afternoon, as he went along +the maple-bordered road that leads to the post office he found himself +dawdling over the dusty grasses and bushes, recognizing old friends and +making new ones, as right-minded folks will when the sun is warm and the +birds sing beside the way. He watched a tiny chipmunk scamper along the +top of the stone wall and disappear in the branches of a maple, looked +upward and saw a mass of fluffy white clouds going northward, and +thought wistfully of spring and the delights it promised here in the +Hudson Valley. The golden-rod had passed its prime, though here and +there a yellow torch yet lighted the shadowed tangles of shrub and vine +beneath the wall, but the asters still bloomed on, and it was while +bending over a clump of them that Joel heard the whir of wheels on the +smooth road and turned to see a bicyclist speeding toward him from the +direction of the academy. + +When the rider drew near, Joel recognized Stephen Remsen, and he +withdrew toward the wall, that the Coach might have the benefit of the +level footpath and avoid the ruts. But instead of speeding by, Remsen +slowed down a few feet distant and jumped from his wheel. + +"Hello, March!" was his greeting as he came up to that youth. "Are you +studying botany?" Joel explained that he had been only trying to +identify the aster, a spray of which he had broken off and still held +in his hand. + +"Perhaps I can tell you what it is," answered Remsen as he took it. +"Yes, it's the Purple-Stemmed, _Aster puniceus_. Isn't it common where +you live?" + +"I've never noticed it," answered Joel. "We have lots of the +_Novoe-Anglioe_ and _spectabilis_ in Maine, and some of the white +asters. It must be very lovely about here in spring." + +"Yes, it is. Spring is beautiful here, as it is everywhere. The valley +of the Hudson is especially rich in flora, I believe. I used to be very +fond of the woods on Mount Adam when I was a boy here at Hillton, and +knew every tree in it." They were walking on toward the village, Remsen +rolling his bicycle beside him. + +"It's a long while since then, I suppose, sir?" queried Joel. + +"I graduated from Hillton ten years ago this coming June. I rowed stroke +in the boat that spring, and we won from Eustace by an eighth of a mile. +And we nearly burned old Masters down to the ground with our Roman +candles and sky rockets. You room there, don't you, March?" + +"Yes, sir; Number 34." + +"That was Billy Mathews's room that year. Some time if you look under +the carpet you'll find a depression in the middle of the floor. That's +where Billy made a bonfire one night and offered up in sacrifice all his +text-books. It took half an hour to put that fire out." Remsen was +smiling reminiscently. + +"But what did he burn his books for, sir? Was it the end of the year?" + +"No, but Billy had been expelled that day, and was celebrating the fact. +He was a nice old chap, was Billy Mathews. He's president of a Western +railroad now." Joel laughed. + +"That bonfire must have made as much commotion as some of the explosions +in Number 15, Mr. Remsen." + +"Hello! Are my efforts in pursuit of science still remembered here? Who +told you about that, March?" + +"Mrs. Cowles. She said you were forever doing something terrible, but +that you were such a _nice_ boy." Remsen laughed heartily as he replied: + +"Well, don't pattern your conduct on mine or Mathews's, March. We +weren't a very well-behaved lot, I fear. But I don't believe our pranks +did much harm. In those days football wasn't as popular as it is to-day, +at Hillton, and fellows couldn't work off their surplus animal spirits +thumping a pigskin as they can now. Football is a great benefactor in +that way, March. It has done away with hazing and street brawls and gate +stealing and lots of other deviltry. By the way, how are you getting on +with the game?" + +"I think I'm getting the hang of it, sir. I'm having a hard time with +drop kicking, but I guess I'll learn after a while." + +"I'm sure you will. I'm going to have Blair give you a bit of coaching +in it next week. He'll have more time then, after he has finished with +this golf business. Don't get discouraged. Peg away. It's worth the +work, March, and you have the making of a good back as soon as you learn +how to kick a goal and run a little faster. And whenever you're puzzled +about anything come to me and we'll work it out together. Will you?" + +"Yes, sir, thank you." + +"That's right. Well, here's where I turn off. Have you time to come and +pay me a visit?" + +"Not to-day, I'm afraid, Mr. Remsen. I'm just going to the post office +for some paper, and--" + +"Well, come and see me some time. I'm pretty nearly always at home in +the evenings and will be very glad to see you. And bring your friend +West with you. That's my headquarters down there, the yellow house; Mrs. +Hutchins's. If you cut across the field here it will save you quite a +distance. Good-by; and get to bed early to-night, March, if you can. +There's nothing like a good sleep before a game." + +"Good-by," answered Joel. Then, "Mr. Remsen, one minute, please, sir," +he called. "Are you any relation to the Remsens that live near +Clairmont, in Maine, sir?" + +"Why, I shouldn't wonder," answered Remsen, with a smile. "I think I've +heard my father speak of relatives in Maine, but I don't recollect +where. Why do you ask?" + +"My mother wrote me to find out. She's very much interested in people's +relatives, Mr. Remsen, and so I thought I'd ask and let her know. You +didn't mind my asking you, did you?" + +"Certainly not. Tell your mother, March, that I hope those Remsens are +some of my folks, because I should like to be related to her friends. +And say, March, when you're writing to your mother about me you needn't +say anything about those explosions, need you?" + +"I don't think it will be necessary, sir," laughed Joel. + +"Very well; then just mention me as a dignified and reverend +attorney-at-law, and we'll keep the rest a secret between us." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +THE GOLF TOURNAMENT. + +It was Saturday afternoon. The day was bright and sunny, and in the +shelter of the grand stand on the campus, where the little east wind +could not rustle, it was comfortably warm. The grass still held much of +its summer verdancy, and the sky overhead was as deeply blue as on the +mildest spring day. After a week of dull or stormy weather yesterday and +to-day, with their fair skies, were as welcome as flowers in May, and +gladness and light-heartedness were in the very air. + +On the gridiron Westvale Grammar School and Hillton Academy were trying +conclusions. On the grand stand all Hillton, academy and village, was +assembled, and here and there a bright dress or wrap indicated the +presence of a mother or sister in the throng. The Westvale team had +arrived, accompanied by a coterie of enthusiastic supporters, armed with +tin horns, maroon-colored banners, and mighty voices, which, with small +hopes of winning on the field, were resolved to accomplish a notable +victory of sound. On the side-line, with a dozen other substitutes whose +greatest desire was to be taken on the first eleven, sat Joel. Outfield +West was sprawled beside him with his caddie bag clutched to his breast, +and the two boys were discussing the game. West had arrived upon the +scene but a moment before. + +"We'll beat them by about a dozen points, I guess," Joel was +prophesying. "They say the score was twenty to nothing last year, but +Remsen declares the first isn't nearly as far advanced as it was this +time last season. Just hear the racket those fellows are making! You +ought to have seen Blair kick down the field a while ago. I thought the +ball never would come down, and I guess Westvale thought so too. Their +full-back nearly killed himself running backward, and finally caught it +on their five-yard line, and had it down there. Then Greer walked +through, lugging Andrews for a touch-down, after Westvale had tried +three times to move the ball. There's the whistle; half's up. How is the +golf getting along?" + +"Somers and Whipple were at Look Off when I came away. I asked Billy +Jones to come over and call me when they got to The Hill. I think +Whipple will win by a couple of strokes. Somers is too nervous. I wish +they'd hurry up. We'll not get through the last round before dark if +they don't finish soon. You'll go round with me, won't you?" + +"If the game's over. They're playing twenty-minute halves, you know; so +I guess it will be. I hope Blair will let me on this half. Have you +seen Cloud?" + +"Yes; he's over on the seats. Who has his place?" + +"Ned Post; and Clausen's playing at right. I'm glad that Blair is doing +such good work to-day. I think he was rather cut up about getting beaten +this morning." + +"Yes; wasn't that hard luck? To think of his being downed by a cub of a +junior! Though that same junior is going to be a fine player some day. +He drives just grand. He had too much handicap, he did. Remsen didn't +know anything about him, and allowed him ten. Here they come again." + +The two elevens were trotting out on the field once more, and Joel stood +up in the hope that Blair might see him and decide to take him on. But +Joel was doomed to disappointment, for the second half of the game began +with practically the same line-up. The score stood six to nothing in +favor of Hillton. The playing had been decidedly ragged on both sides; +and Remsen, as he left the team after administering a severe lecture, +walked past with a slight frown on his face. + +"Well, I guess I'll go over and see if I can hurry those chumps up +some." West swung his bag over his shoulder and turned away. "When the +game's done, hurry over, March. You'll find us somewhere on the course." +Joel nodded, and West sauntered away toward the links. The second half +of the game was similar to the first, save in that Remsen's scolding had +accomplished an awakening, and the first put more snap into its playing. +Six more points were scored from a touch-down by the Hillton right end, +after a thirty-yard run, followed by a difficult goal by Blair. But the +Westvale rooters kept up their cheering bravely to the end, and took +defeat with smiling faces and upraised voices; and long after the coach +containing them had passed from sight their cheers could still be heard +in the distance toward the station. + +The bulk of the spectators turned at the conclusion of the match toward +the links, and Joel followed in his football togs. At Home Hole he found +Whipple and West preparing for the deciding round of the tournament, and +the latter greeted him with a shout, and put his clubs into his keeping. +Then Whipple went to the tee and led off with a long drive for the first +hole, and the round began. West followed with a shorter shot and the +march was taken up. + +The links at Hilton consists of nine holes, five out and four in. The +entire length of the course is a trifle over one and a half mile, and +although the land is upland meadow and given to growing long grass, yet +the course is generally conceded to be excellent. The holes are short, +allowing the round to be accomplished by a capable player in thirty-two +strokes. The course has thirteen bunkers of varying sizes, besides two +water hazards at the inlet and outlet of the lake. The lake itself is +spoiled as a hazard by the thick grove of trees on the side nearest the +Academy. Sometimes a poor drive lands a ball in that same grove, and +there is much trial and tribulation ere the player has succeeded in +dislodging it from the underbrush. + +While generally level, the course is diversified by slight elevations, +upon which are the putting greens, their red and white flags visible +from all parts of the links. As has been said, the holes are short, the +longest, Lake Hole, being four hundred and ninety-six yards, and the +shortest, the first, but one hundred and thirty-three. Outfield West +once spent the better part of two weeks, at great cost to his class +standing, in making a plan of the links, and, while it is not warranted +accurate as to distances, it is reproduced here with his permission as +giving a clearer idea of the ground than any verbal description. + +Play had begun this morning at nine o'clock, and by noon only Somers, +Whipple, and West had been left in the match. Blair had encountered +defeat most unexpectedly at the hands of Greene, a junior, of whose +prowess but little had been known by the handicapper; for, although +Blair had done the round in three strokes less than his adversary's +gross score, the latter's allowance of six strokes had placed him an +easy winner. But Blair had been avenged later by West, who had defeated +the youngster by three strokes in the net. In the afternoon Somers and +Whipple had met, and, as West had predicted, the latter won by +two strokes. + +And now West and Whipple, both excellent players, and sworn enemies of +the links, were fighting it out, and on this round depended the +possession of the title of champion and the ownership for one year of +the handicap cup, a modest but highly prized pewter tankard. Medal +Play rules governed to-day, and the scoring was by strokes. + +[Illustration: Plan of Hilton Academy Golf Links] + +Whipple reached the first green in one stroke, but used two more to +hole-out. West took two short drives to reach a lie, from which he +dropped his ball into the hole in one try. And the honors were even. The +next hole was forty yards longer, and was played either in two short +drives or one long drive and an approach shot. It contained two hazards, +Track Bunker and High Bunker, the latter alone being formidable. Whipple +led off with a long shot that went soaring up against the blue and then +settled down as gently as a bird just a few yards in front of High +Bunker. He had reversed his play of the last hole, and was now relying +on his approach shot for position. West played a rather short drive off +an iron which left his ball midway between the two bunkers. Whipple's +next stroke took him neatly out of danger and on to the putting green, +but West had fared not so well. + +There was a great deal of noise from the younger boys who were looking +on, much discussion of the methods of play, and much loud boasting of +what some one else would have done under existing circumstances. West +glanced up once and glared at one offending junior, and an admonitory +"_Hush!_" was heard. But he was plainly disturbed, and when the little +white sphere made its flight it went sadly aglee and dropped to earth +far to the right of the green, and where rough and cuppy ground made +exact putting well-nigh impossible. Professor Beck promptly laid down a +command of absolute silence during shots, and some of the smaller youths +left the course in favor of another portion of the campus, where a boy's +right to make all the noise he likes could not be disputed. But the harm +was done, and when play for the third hole began the score was: Whipple +7, West 8. + +Even to one of such intense ignorance of the science of golf as Joel +March, there was a perceptible difference in the style of the two +competitors. Outfield West was a great stickler for form, and imitated +the full St. Andrews swing to the best of his ability. In addressing the +ball he stood as squarely to it as was possible, without the use of a +measuring tape, and drove off the right leg, as the expression is. +Despite an almost exaggerated adherence to nicety of style, West's play +had an ease and grace much envied by other golf disciples in the school, +and his shots were nearly always successful. + +Whipple's manner of driving was very different from his opponent's. His +swing was short and often stopped too soon. His stance was rather +awkward, after West's, and even his hold on the club was not according +to established precedent. Yet, notwithstanding all this, it must be +acknowledged that Whipple's drives had a way of carrying straight and +far and landing well. + +Joel followed the play with much interest if small appreciation of its +intricacies, and carried West's bag, and hoped all the time that that +youth would win, knowing how greatly he had set his heart upon so doing. + +There is no bunker between second and third holes, but the brook which +supplies the lake runs across the course and is about six yards wide +from bank to bank. But it has no terrors for a long drive, and both the +players went safely over and won Academy Hole in three strokes. West +still held the odd. Two long strokes carried Whipple a scant distance +from Railroad Bunker, which fronts Ditch Hole, a dangerous lie, since +Railroad Bunker is high and the putting green is on an elevation, almost +meriting the title of hill, directly back of it. But if Whipple erred in +judgment or skill, West found himself in even a sorrier plight when two +more strokes had been laid to his score. His first drive with a brassie +had fallen rather short, and for the second he had chosen an iron. The +ball sailed off on a long flight that brought words of delight from the +spectators, but which caused Joel to look glum and West to grind the +turf under his heel in anger. For, like a thing possessed, that ball +fell straight into the very middle of the bunker, and when it was found +lay up to its middle in gravel. + +West groaned as he lifted the ball, replaced it loosely in its cup, and +carefully selected a club. Whipple meanwhile cleared the bunker in the +best of style, and landed on the green in a good position to hole out in +two shots. "Great Gobble!" muttered West as he swung his club, and fixed +his eye on a point an inch and a half back of the imbedded ball, "if I +don't get this out of here on this shot, I'm a gone goose!" March +grinned sympathetically but anxiously, and the onlookers held their +breath. Then back went the club--there was a scattering of sand and +gravel, and the ball dropped dead on the green, four yards from +the hole. + +"Excellent!" shouted Professor Beck, and Joel jumped in the air from +sheer delight. "Good for you, Out!" yelled Dave Somers; and the rest of +the watchers echoed the sentiment in various ways, even those who +desired to see Whipple triumphant yielding their meed of praise for the +performance. And, "I guess, Out," said Whipple ruefully, "you might as +well take the cup." But Outfield West only smiled silently in response, +and followed his ball with businesslike attention to the game. + +Whipple was weak on putting, and his first stroke with an iron failed to +carry his ball to the hole. West, on the contrary, was a sure player on +the green, and now with his ball but four yards from the hole he had +just the opportunity he desired to better his score. The green was level +and clean, and West selected a small iron putter, and addressed the ball +with all the attention to form that the oldest St. Andrews veteran might +desire. Playing on the principle that it is better to go too far than +not far enough, since the hole is larger than the ball, West gave a long +stroke, and the gutta-percha disappeared from view. Whipple holed out on +his next try, adopting a wooden putter this time, and the score stood +fifteen strokes each. + +The honor was West's, and he led off for End Hole with a beautiful +brassie drive that cleared the first two bunkers with room to spare. +Whipple, for the first time in the round, drove poorly, toeing his ball +badly, and dropping it almost off of the course and just short of the +second bunker. West's second drive was a loft over Halfway Bunker that +fell fairly on the green and rolled within ten feet of the hole. From +there, on the next shot, he holed out very neatly in eighteen. Whipple +meanwhile had redeemed himself with a high lofting stroke that carried +past the threatening dangers of Masters Bunker and back on to the course +within a few yards of West's lie. But again skill on the putting green +was wanting, and he required two strokes to make the hole. Once more the +honor was West's, and that youth turned toward home with a short and +high stroke. The subsequent hole left the score "the like" at 22, and +the seventh gave Whipple, 25, West 26. + +"But here's where Mr. West takes the lead," confided that young +gentleman to Joel as they walked to the teeing ground. "From here to +Lake Hole is four hundred and ninety-six yards, and I'm going to do it +in three shots on to the green. You watch!" + +Four hundred and ninety-odd yards is nothing out of the ordinary for an +older player, but to a lad of seventeen it is a creditable distance to +do in three drives. Yet that is what West did it in; and strange to +relate, and greatly to that young gentleman's surprise, Whipple +duplicated the performance, and amid the excited whispers of the +onlookers the two youths holed out on their next strokes; and the score +still gave the odd to West--29 to 30. + +"I didn't think he could do it," whispered West to Joel, "and that makes +it look bad for your uncle Out. But never mind, my lad, there's still +Rocky Bunker ahead of us, and--" West did not complete his remark, but +his face took on a very determined look as he teed his ball. The last +hole was in sight, and victory hovered overhead. + +Now, the distance from Lake Hole to the Home Hole is but a few yards +over three hundred, and it can be accomplished comfortably in two long +brassie drives. Midway lies The Hill, a small elevation rising from +about the middle of the course to the river bluff, and there falling off +sheer to the beach below. It is perhaps thirty yards across, and if the +ball reaches it safely it forms an excellent place from which to make +the second drive. So both boys tried for The Hill. Whipple landed at the +foot of it, while West came plump upon the side some five yards from the +summit, and his next drive took him cleanly over Rocky Bunker and to the +right of the Home Green. But Whipple summoned discretion to his aid, and +instead of trying to make the green on the next drive, played short, and +landed far to the right of the Bunker. This necessitated a short +approach, and by the time he had gained the green and was "made" within +holing distance of the flag, the score was once more even, and the end +was in sight. + +And now the watchers moved about restlessly, and Joel found his heart +in his throat. But West gripped his wooden putter firmly and studied the +situation. It was quite possible for a skillful player to hole out on +the next stroke from Whipple's lie. West, on the contrary, was too far +distant to possess more than one chance in ten of winning the hole in +one play. Whether to take that one chance or to use his next play in +bettering his lie was the question. Whipple, West knew, was weak on +putting, but it is ever risky to rely on your opponent's weakness. While +West pondered, Whipple studied the lay of the green with eyes that +strove to show no triumph, and the little throng kept silence save for +an occasional nervous whisper. + +Then West leaned down and cleared a pebble from before his ball. It was +the veriest atom of a pebble that ever showed on a putting green, but +West was willing to take no chances beyond those that already confronted +him. His mind was made up. Gripping his iron putter firmly rather low on +the shaft and bending far over, West slowly, cautiously swung the club +above the gutty, glancing once and only once as he did so at the distant +goal. Then there was a pause. Whipple no longer studied his own play; +his eyes were on that other sphere that nestled there so innocently +against the grass. Joel leaned breathlessly forward. Professor Beck +muttered under his breath, and then cried "S--sh!" to himself in an +angry whisper. And then West's club swung back gently, easily, paused an +instant--and-- + +Forward sped the ball--on and on--slower--slower--but straight as an +arrow--and then--Presto! it was gone from sight! + +A moment of silence followed ere the applause broke out, and in that +moment Professor Beck announced: + +"The odd to Whipple. Thirty-two to thirty-three." + +Then the group became silent again. Whipple addressed his ball. It was +yet possible to tie the score. His face was pale, and for the first time +during the tournament he felt nervous. A better player could scarce have +missed the hole from Whipple's lie, but for once that youth's nerve +forsook him and he hit too short; the ball stopped a foot from the hole. +The game was decided. Professor Beck again announced the score: + +"The two more to Whipple. Thirty-two to thirty-four." + +Again Whipple addressed his ball, and this time, but too late to win the +victory, the tiny sphere dropped neatly into the hole, and the throng +broke silence. And as West and Whipple, victor and vanquished, shook +hands over the Home Hole, Professor Beck announced: + +"Thirty-two to thirty-five. West wins the Cup!" + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +AN EVENING CALL. + +The last week of October brought chilling winds and flying clouds. Life +at Hillton Academy had gone on serenely since West's victory on the +links. The little pewter tankard reposed proudly upon his mantel beside +a bottle of chow-chow, and bore his name as the third winner of the +trophy. But West had laid aside his clubs, save for an occasional hour +at noon, and, abiding by his promise to Joel, he had taken up his books +again with much resolution, if little ardor. Hillton had met and +defeated two more football teams, and the first eleven was growing +gradually stronger. Remsen was seen to smile now quite frequently during +practice, and there was a general air of prosperity about the gridiron. + +The first had gone to its training table at "Mother" Burke's, in the +village, and the second ate its meals in the center of the school dining +hall with an illy concealed sense of self-importance. And the grinds +sneered at its appetites, and the obscure juniors admired reverently +from afar. Joel had attended both recitations and practice with +exemplary and impartial regularity, and as a result his class standing +was growing better and better on one hand, and on the other his muscles +were becoming stronger, his flesh firmer, and his brain clearer. + +The friendship between him and Outfield West had ripened steadily, until +now they were scarcely separable. And that they might be more together +West had lately made a proposition. + +"That fellow Sproule is a regular cad, Joel, and I tell you what we'll +do. After Christmas you move over to Hampton and room with me. You have +to make an application before recess, you know. What do you say?" + +"I should like to first rate, but I can't pay the rent there," Joel had +objected. + +"Then pay the same as you're paying for your den in Masters," replied +West. "You see, Joel, I have to pay the rent for Number 2 Hampton +anyhow, and it won't make any difference whether I have another fellow +in with me or not. Only, if you pay as much of my rent as you're paying +now, why, that will make it so much cheaper for me. Don't you see?" + +"Yes, but if I use half the room I ought to pay half, the rent." And to +this Joel stood firm until West's constant entreaties led to a +compromise. West was to put the matter before his father, and Joel +before his. If their parents sanctioned it, Joel was to apply for the +change of abode. As yet the matter was still in abeyance. + +Richard Sproule, as West had suggested rather more forcibly than +politely, was becoming more and more objectionable, and Joel was not a +bit grieved at the prospect of leaving him. Of late, intercourse between +the roommates had become reduced to rare monosyllables. This was the +outcome of a refusal on Joel's part to give a portion of his precious +study time to helping Sproule with his lessons. Once or twice Joel had +consented to assist his roommate, and had done so to the detriment of +his own affairs; but the result to both had proved so unsatisfactory +that Joel had stoutly refused the next request. Thereupon Sproule had +considered himself deeply aggrieved, and usually spent the time when +Joel was present in sulking. + +Bartlett Cloud, since his encounter with Joel on the field the afternoon +that he was put off the team, had had nothing to say to him, though his +looks when they met were always dark and threatening. But in a school as +large as Hillton there is plenty of room to avoid an objectionable +acquaintance, so long as you are not under the same roof with him, and +consequently Cloud and Joel seldom met. The latter constantly regretted +having made an enemy of the other, but beyond this regret his +consideration of Cloud seldom went. + +So far Joel had not found an opportunity to accept the invitation that +Remsen had extended to him, though that invitation had since been once +or twice repeated. But to-night West and he had made arrangement to +visit Remsen at his room, and had obtained permission from Professor +Wheeler to do so. The two boys met at the gymnasium after supper was +over and took their way toward the village. West had armed himself with +a formidable stick, in the hope, loudly expressed at intervals, that +they would be set upon by tramps. But Remsen's lodgings were reached +without adventure, and the lads were straightway admitted to a cosey +study, wherein, before an open fire, sat Remsen and a guest. After a +cordial welcome from Remsen the guest was introduced as Albert Digbee. + +"Yes, we know each other," said West, as he shook hands. "We both room +in Hampton, but Digbee's a grind, you know, and doesn't care to waste +his time on us idlers." Digbee smiled. + +"It isn't inclination, West; I don't have the time, and so don't attempt +to keep up with you fellows." He shook Joel's hand. "I'm glad to meet +you. I've heard of you before." + +Then the quartet drew chairs up to the blaze, and, as Remsen talked, +Joel examined his new acquaintance. + +Digbee was a year older than West and Joel. He was in the senior class, +and was spoken of as one of the smartest boys in the school. Although a +Hampton House resident, he seldom was seen with the others save at the +table, and was usually referred to among themselves as "Dig," both +because that suggested his Christian name and because, as they said, he +was forever digging at his books. In appearance Albert Digbee was a +tall, slender, but scarcely frail youth, with a cleanly cut face that +looked, in the firelight, far too pale. His eyes were strikingly bright, +and though his smiles were infrequent, his habitual expression was one +of eager and kindly interest. Joel had often come across him in class, +and had long wanted to know him. + +"You see, boys," Remsen was saying, "Digbee here is of the opinion that +athletics in general and football in particular are harmful to schools +and colleges as tending to draw the attention of pupils from their +studies, and I maintain the opposite. Now, what's your opinion, West? +Digbee and I have gone over it so often that we would like to hear some +one else on the subject." + +"Oh, I don't know," replied West. "If fellows would give up football and +go in for golf, there wouldn't be any talk about athletics being +hurtful. Golf's a game that a chap can play and get through with and +have some time for study. You don't have to train a month to play for an +hour; it's a sport that hasn't become a business." + +"I can testify," said Joel gravely, "that Out is a case in point. He +plays golf, and has time left to study--how to play more golf." + +"Well, anyhow, you know I _do_ study some lately, Joel," laughed West. +Joel nodded with serious mien. + +"I think you've made a very excellent point in favor of golf, West," +said Digbee. "It hasn't been made a business, at least in this school. +But won't it eventually become quite as much of a pursuit as +football now is?" + +"Oh, it may become as popular, but, don't you see, it will never become +as--er--exacting on the fellows that play it. You can play golf without +having to go into training for it." + +"Nevertheless, West," replied the head coach, "if a fellow can play golf +without being in training, doesn't it stand to reason that the same +fellow can play a better game if he is in training? That is, won't he +play a better game if he is in better trim?" + +"Yes, I guess so, but he will play a first-class game if he doesn't +train." + +"But not as good a game as he will if he does train?" + +"I suppose not," admitted West. + +"Well, now, a fellow can play a very good game of football if he isn't +in training," continued Remsen, "but that same fellow, if he goes to bed +and gets up at regular hours, and eats decent food at decent times, and +takes care of himself in such a way as to improve his mental, moral, and +physical person, will play a still better game and derive more benefit +from it. When golf gets a firmer hold on this side of the Atlantic, +schools and colleges will have their golf teams of, say, from two to a +dozen players. Of course, the team will not play as a team, but the +members of it will play singly or in couples against representatives of +other schools. And when that happens it is sure to follow that the +players will go into almost as strict training as the football men +do now." + +"Well, that sounds funny," exclaimed West. + +"Digbee thinks one of the most objectionable features of football is the +fact that the players go into it so thoroughly--that they train for it, +and study it, and spend a good deal of valuable time thinking about it. +But to me that is one of its most admirable features. When a boy or a +man goes in for athletics, whether football or rowing or hockey, he +desires, if he is a real flesh-and-blood being, to excel in it. To do +that it is necessary that he put himself in the condition that will +allow of his doing his very best. And to that end he trains. He gives up +pastry, and takes to cereals; he abandons his cigarettes and takes to +fresh air; he gives up late hours at night, and substitutes early hours +in the morning. And he is better for doing so. He feels better, looks +better, works better, plays better." + +"But," responded Digbee, "can a boy who has come to school to study, and +who has to study to make his schooling pay for itself, can such a boy +afford the time that all that training and practicing requires?" + +"Usually, yes," answered Remsen. "Of course, there are boys, and men +too, for that matter, who are incapable of occupying their minds with +two distinct interests. That kind should leave athletics alone. And +there are others who are naturally--I guess I mean-unnaturally--stupid, +and who, should they attempt to sandwich football or baseball into their +school life, would simply make a mess of both study and recreation. But +they need not enter into the question of the harm or benefit of +athletics, since at every well-conducted school or college those boys +are not allowed to take up with athletics. Yes, generally speaking, the +boy who comes to school to study can afford to play football, train for +football, and think football, because instead of interfering with his +studies it really helps him with them. It makes him healthy, strong, +wide-awake, self-reliant, and clearheaded. Some time I shall be glad to +show you a whole stack of careful statistics which prove that football +men, at least, rather than being backward with studies, are nearly +always above the average in class standing. March, you're a hard-worked +football enthusiast, and I understand that you're keeping well up with +your lessons. Do you have trouble to attend to both? Do you have to +skimp your studies? I know you give full attention to the pigskin." + +"I'm hard put some days to find time for everything," answered Joel, +"but I always manage to make it somehow, and I have all the sleep I want +or need. Perhaps if I gave up football I might get higher marks in +recitations, but I'd not feel so well, and it's possible that I'd only +get lower marks. I agree with you, Mr. Remsen, that athletics, or at +least football, is far more likely to benefit a chap than to hurt him, +because a fellow can't study well unless he is in good health +and spirits." + +"Are you convinced, Digbee?" asked Remsen. Digbee shook his head +smilingly. + +"I don't believe I am, quite. But you know more about such things than +I do. In fact, it's cheeky for me to argue about them. Why, I've never +played anything but tennis, and never did even that well." + +"You know the ground you argue from, and because I have overwhelmed you +with talk it does not necessarily follow that I am right," responded his +host courteously. "But enough of such dull themes. There's West most +asleep.--March, have you heard from your mother lately?" + +"Yes, I received a letter from her yesterday morning. She writes that +she's glad the relationship is settled finally; says she's certain that +any kin of the Maine Remsens is a person of good, strong moral +character." When the laugh had subsided, Remsen turned to West. + +"Have you ever heard of Tommy Collingwood?" + +"Wasn't he baseball captain a good many years ago?" + +"Yes, and used to row in the boat. Well, Tommy was a good deal better at +spinning top on Academy steps than doing lessons, and a deal fonder of +playing shinney than writing letters. But Tommy's mother always insisted +that Tommy should write home once a week, and Tommy's father wrote and +explained what would happen to Tommy if he didn't obey his mother; and +as Tommy's folks lived just over in Albany it was a small thing for +Tommy's father to run over some day with a strap; so Tommy obeyed his +parents and every week wrote home. His letters weren't long, nor were +they filled with a wealth of detail, but they answered the purpose in +lieu of better. Each one ran: 'Hillton Academy, Hillton, N.Y.,' with +the date. 'Dear Father and Mother, I am well and studying hard. Your +loving son, Thomas Collingwood.' + +"Well, when Christmas recess came, Tommy went home. And one day his +mother complimented Tommy on the regularity of his correspondence. Tommy +looked sheepish. 'To tell the truth, mother, I didn't write one of those +letters each week,' explained Tommy. 'But just after school opened I was +sick for a week, and didn't have anything to do; so I wrote 'I am well' +twelve times, and dated each ahead.'" + +Digbee accompanied the other two lads back to the yard, and he and March +discussed studies, while West mooned along, whistling half aloud and +thrashing the weeds and rocks with his cudgel, for the tramps refused to +appear on the scene. He and Digbee went out of their way to see Joel +safely to his dormitory, and then Joel accompanied them on their +homeward way as far as Academy Building. There good-nights were said, +and Joel, feeling but little inclined for sleep, drew his collar up and +strolled to the front of the building, where, from the high steps, the +river was visible for several miles in either direction. The moon was +struggling out from a mass of somber clouds overhead, and the sound of +the waters as they swirled around the rocky point was plainly heard. + +Joel sat there on the steps, under the shadow of the dark building, +thinking of many things, and feeling very happy and peaceful, until a +long, shrill sound from the north told of the coming of the 9.48 train; +then he made his way back to Masters, up the dim stairs, and into his +room, where Dickey Sproule lay huddled in bed reading The Three +Guardsmen by the screened light of a guttering candle. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +THE BROKEN BELL ROPE. + +Joel arrived at chapel the following morning just as the doors were +being closed. Duffy, the wooden-legged doorkeeper, was not on duty, and +the youth upon whom his duties had devolved allowed Joel to pass without +giving his name for report as tardy. During prayers there was an evident +atmosphere of suppressed excitement among the pupils, but not until +chapel was over did Joel discover the cause. + +"Were you here when it happened?" asked West. + +"When what happened?" responded Joel. + +"Haven't you heard? Why, some one cut the bell rope, and when 'Peg-leg' +went to ring chapel bell the rope broke up in the tower and came down on +his head and laid him out there on the floor, and some of the fellows +found him knocked senseless. And they've taken him to the infirmary. You +know the rope's as big as your wrist, and it hit him on top of the head. +I guess he isn't much hurt, but 'Wheels' is as mad as never was, and +whoever did it will have a hard time, I'll bet!" + +"Poor old Duffy!" said Joel. "Let's go over and find out if he's much +hurt. It was a dirty sort of a joke to play, though I suppose whoever +did it didn't think it would hurt any one." + +At the infirmary they found Professor Gibbs in the office. + +"No, boys, he isn't damaged much. He'll be all right in a few hours. I +hope that the ones who did it will be severely punished. It was a most +contemptible trick to put up on Duffy." + +"I hope so too," answered West indignantly. "You may depend that no +upper middle boy did it, sir." The professor smiled. + +"I hope you are right, West." + +At noon hour Joel was summoned to the principal's office. Professor +Wheeler, the secretary, and Professor Durkee were present, and as Joel +entered he scented an air of hostility. The secretary closed the door +behind him. + +"March, I have sent for you to ask whether you can give us any +information which will lead to the apprehension of the perpetrators of +the trick which has resulted in injury to Mr. Duffy. Can you?" + +"No, sir," responded Joel. + +"You know absolutely nothing about it?" + +"Nothing, sir, except what I have been told." + +"By whom?" + +"Outfield West, sir, after chapel. We went to the infirmary to inquire +about 'Peg'--about Mr. Duffy, sir." The secretary repressed a smile. The +principal was observing Joel very closely, and Professor Durkee moved +impatiently in his seat. + +"I can not suppose," continued the principal, "that the thing was done +simply as a school joke. The boy who cut the rope must have known when +he did so that the result would be harmful to whoever rang the chapel +bell this morning. I wish it understood that I have no intention of +dealing leniently with the culprit, but, at the same time, a confession, +if made now, will have the effect of mitigating his punishment." He +paused. Joel turned an astonished look from him to Professor Durkee, +who, meeting it, frowned and turned impatiently away. "You have nothing +more to tell me, March?" + +"Why, no, sir," answered Joel in a troubled voice. "I don't understand. +Am I suspected--of--of this--thing, sir?" + +"Dear me, sir," exclaimed Professor Durkee, explosively, turning to the +principal, "it's quite evident that--" + +"One moment, please," answered the latter firmly. The other +subsided.--"You had town leave last night, March?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You went with Outfield West?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"What time did you return to your room?" + +"At about a quarter to ten, sir." + +"You are certain as to the time?" + +"I only know that I heard the down train whistle as I left Academy +Building. I went right to my room, sir." + +"Was the door of Academy Building unlocked last night?" + +"I don't know. I didn't try it, sir." + +"What time did you leave Mr. Remsen's house?" + +"A few minutes after nine." + +"You came right back here?" + +"Yes, sir. We came as far as Academy Building, and West and Digbee went +home. I sat on the front steps here until I heard the whistle blow. Then +I went to my room." + +"Why did you sit on the steps, March?" + +"I wasn't sleepy; and the moon was coming out--and--I wanted to think." + +"Do you hear from home very often?" + +"Once or twice a week, sir." + +"When did you get a letter last, and from whom was it?" + +"From my mother, about three days ago." + +"Have you that letter?" + +"Yes, sir. It is in my room." + +"You sometimes carry your letters in your pocket?" + +"Why, yes, but not often. If I receive them on the way out of the +building I put them in my pocket, and then put them away when I +get back." + +"Where do you keep them?" + +"In my bureau drawer." + +"It is kept locked?" + +"No, sir. I never lock it." + +"Do you remember what was in that last letter?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Was any one mentioned in it?" + +"Yes, sir. Mr. Remsen was mentioned. And Outfield West, and my brother, +and father." + +"Is this your letter?" Professor Wheeler extended it across the desk, +and Joel took it wonderingly. + +"Why, yes, sir. But where--I don't understand--!" Again he looked toward +Professor Durkee in bewilderment. + +"Nor do I," answered that gentleman dryly. + +"March," continued the principal, as he took the letter again, "this was +found this morning, after the accident, on the floor of the bell tower. +Do you know how it came there?" Joel's cheeks reddened and then grew +white as the full meaning of the words reached him. His voice suddenly +grew husky. + +"No, sir, I do not." The words were spoken very stoutly and rang with +sincerity. A silence fell on the room. Professor Wheeler glanced +inquiringly at Professor Durkee, and the latter made a grimace of +impatience that snarled his homely face into a mass of wrinkles. + +"Look here, boy," he snapped, "who do you think dropped that letter +there?" + +"I can't think, sir. I can't understand it at all. I've never been in +the tower since I've been in school." + +"Do you know of any one who might like to get you into trouble in such +a way as this?" + +"No, sir," answered Joel promptly. Then a sudden recollection of +Bartlett Cloud came to him, and he hesitated. Professor Durkee +observed it. + +"Well?" he said sharply. + +"I know of no one, sir." + +"Humph!" grunted the professor, "you do, but you won't say." + +"If you suspect any one it will be best to tell us, March," said +Professor Wheeler, more kindly. "You must see that the evidence is much +against you, and, while I myself can not believe that you are guilty, I +shall be obliged to consider you so until proof of your innocence is +forthcoming. Have you any enemy in school?" + +"I think not, sir." + +The door opened and Remsen appeared. + +"Good-morning," he said. "You wished to see me, professor?" + +"Yes, in a moment. Sit down, please, Remsen." Remsen nodded to Joel and +the secretary, shook hands with Professor Durkee, and took a chair. The +principal turned again to Joel. + +"You wish me to understand, then, that you have no explanation to offer +as to how the letter came to be in the bell tower? Recollect that +shielding a friend or any other pupil will do neither you nor him +any service." + +Joel was hesitating. Was it right to throw suspicion on Bartlett Cloud +by mentioning the small occurrence on the football field so long before? +It was inconceivable that Cloud would go to such a length in mere spite. +And yet--Remsen interrupted his thoughts. + +"Professor, if you will dismiss March for a while, perhaps I can throw +some light on the matter. Let him return in half an hour or so." +Professor Wheeler nodded. + +"Come back at one o'clock, March," he said. + +Outside Joel hesitated where to go. He must tell some one his trouble, +and there was only one who would really care. He turned toward Hampton +House, then remembered that it was dinner hour and that Outfield would +be at table. He had forgotten his own dinner until that moment. In the +dining hall West was still lingering over his dessert. Joel took his +seat at the training table, explaining his absence by saying that he had +been called to the office, and hurried through a dinner of beef and rice +and milk. When West arose Joel overtook him at the door. And as the +friends took their way toward Joel's room, he told everything to West in +words that tumbled over each other. + +Outfield West heard him in silence after one exclamation of surprise, +and when Joel had finished, cried: + +"Why didn't you tell about Cloud? Don't you see that this is his doing? +That he is getting even with you for his losing the football team?" + +"I thought of that, Out, but it seemed too silly to suppose that he +would do such a thing just for--for that, you know." + +"Well, you may be certain that he did do it; or, at least, if he didn't +cut the rope himself, found some one to do it for him. It's just the +kind of a revenge that a fellow of his meanness would think of. He won't +stand up and fight like a man. Here, let's go and find him!" + +"No, wait. I'll tell Professor Wheeler about him when I go back; then if +he thinks--If he did do it, Out, I'll lick him good for it!" + +"Hooray! And when you get through I'll take a hand, too. But what do you +suppose Remsen was going to tell?" + +Joel shook his head. They found Sproule in the room, and to him West +spoke as follows: + +"Hello, Dickey! You're not studying? It's not good for you; these sudden +changes should be avoided." Sproule laughed, but looked annoyed at the +banter. "Joel and I have come up for a chat, Dickey," continued West. +"Now, you take your Robinson Crusoe and read somewhere else for a while, +like a nice boy." + +Sproule grew red-faced, and turned to West angrily. + +"Don't you see I'm studying? If you and March want to talk, why, either +go somewhere else, or talk here." + +"But our talk is private, Dickey, and not intended for little boys' +ears. You know the saying about little pitchers, Dickey?" + +"Well, I'm not going out, so you can talk or not as you like." + +"Oh, yes, you are going out, Dickey. Politeness requires it, and I shall +see that you maintain that delightful courteousness for which you are +noted. Now, Dickey!" West indicated the door with a nod and a smile. +Sproule bent his head over his book and growled a response that sounded +anything but polite. Then West, still smiling, seized the unobliging +youth by the shoulders, pinioning his arms to his sides, and pushed him +away from the table and toward the door. Joel rescued the lamp at a +critical moment, the chairs went over on to the floor, and a minute +later Sproule was on the farther side of the bolted door, and West was +adjusting his rumpled attire. + +"I'll report you for this, Outfield West!" howled Sproule through the +door, in a passion of resentment. + +"Report away," answered West mockingly. + +"And if I miss my Latin I'll tell why, too!" + +"Well, you'll miss it all right enough, unless you've changed mightily. +But, here, I'll shy your book through the transom." + +This was done, and the sound of ascending feet on the stairway reaching +Sproule's ears at that moment, he grabbed his book and took himself off, +muttering vengeance. + +"Have you looked?" asked West. + +"Yes; it's not there. But there are no others missing. Who could have +taken it?" + +"Any one, my boy; Bartlett Cloud, for preference. Your door is +unlocked, he comes in when he knows you are out, looks on the table, +sees nothing there that will serve, goes to the bureau, opens the top +drawer, and finds a pile of letters. He takes the first one, which is, +of course, the last received, and sneaks out. Then he climbs into the +bell tower at night, cuts the rope through all but one small strand, and +puts your letter on the floor where it will be found in the morning. +Isn't that plain enough?" Joel nodded forlornly. "But cheer up, Joel. +Your Uncle Out will see your innocence established, firmly and beyond +all question. And now come on. It's one o'clock, and you've got to go +back to the office, while I've got a class. Come over to my room at +four, Joel, and tell me what happens." + +Remsen and the secretary were no longer in the office when Joel +returned. Professor Durkee was standing with his hat in his hand, +apparently about to leave. + +"March," began the principal, "Mr. Remsen tells us that you were struck +at by Bartlett Cloud on the football field one day at practice. Is that +so?" Joel replied affirmatively. + +"Does he speak to you, or you to him?" + +"No, sir; but then I've never been acquainted with him." + +"Do you believe that he could have stolen that letter from your room?" + +"I know that he could have done so, sir, but I don't like to think--" + +"That he did? Well, possibly he did and possibly he didn't. I shall +endeavor to find out. Meanwhile I must ask you to let this go no +further. You will go on as though this conversation had never occurred. +If I find that you are unjustly suspected I will summon you and ask your +pardon, and the guilty one will be punished. Professor Durkee here has +pointed out to me that such conduct is totally foreign to his conception +of your character, and has reminded me that your standing in class has +been of the best since the beginning of the term. I agree with him in +all this, but duty in the affair is very plain and I have been +performing it, unpleasant as it is. You may go now, March; and kindly +remember that this affair must be kept quiet," + +Joel turned with a surprised but grateful look toward Professor Durkee, +but was met with a wrathful scowl. Joel hurried to his recitation, and +later, before West's fireplace, the friends discussed the unfortunate +affair in all its phases, and resolved, with vehemence, to know the +truth sooner or later. + +But Joel's cup was not yet filled. When he returned to the dormitory +after supper, he found two missives awaiting him. The first was from +Wesley Blair: + +"DEAR MARCH" (it read): "Please show up in the morning at Burke's for +breakfast with the first eleven. You are to take the place of Post at +L.H.B. It will be necessary for you to report at the gym at eleven each +day for noon signals; please arrange your recitations to this end. I am +writing this because I couldn't see you this afternoon; hope you are all +right. Yours, + + "WESLEY BLAIR." + +Joel read this with a loudly beating heart and flushing cheeks. It was +as unexpected as it was welcome, that news; he _had_ hoped for an +occasional chance to substitute Post or Blair or Clausen on the first +team in some minor game, but to be taken on as a member was more than he +had even thought of since he had found how very far from perfect was his +playing. He seized his cap with the intention of racing across to +Hampton and informing West of his luck; then he remembered the other +note. It was from the office, and it was with a sinking heart that he +tore it open and read: + +"You are placed upon probation until further notice from the Faculty. +The rules and regulations require that pupils on probation abstain from +all sports and keep their rooms in the evenings except upon permission +from the Principal. Respectfully, + + "CURTIS GORDON, Secretary." + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +TWO HEROES. + +One afternoon a week later Outfield West and Joel March were seated on +the ledge where, nearly two months before, they had begun their +friendship. The sun beat warmly down and the hill at their backs kept +off the east wind. Below them the river was brightly blue, and a skiff +dipping its way up stream caught the sunlight on sail and hull until, as +it danced from sight around the headland, it looked like a white gull +hovering over the water. Above, on the campus, the football field was +noisy with voices and the pipe of the referee's whistle; and farther up +the river at the boathouse moving figures showed that some of the boys +were about to take advantage of the pleasant afternoon. + +"Some one's going rowing," observed Outfield. "Can you row, Joel?" + +"I guess so; I never tried." West laughed. + +"Then I guess you can't. I've tried. It's like trying to write with both +hands. While you're looking after one the other has fits and runs all +over the paper. If you pull with the left oar the right oar goes up in +the air or tries to throw you out of the boat by getting caught in the +water. Paddling suits me better. Say, you'll see a bully race next +spring when we meet Eustace. Last spring they walked away from us. But +the crew is to have a new boat next year. Look! those two fellows row +well, don't they? Remsen says a chap can never learn to row unless he +has been born near the water. That lets me out. In Iowa we haven't any +water nearer than the Mississippi--except the Red Cedar, and that +doesn't count. By the way, Joel, what did Remsen say to you last night +about playing again?" + +"He said to keep in condition, so that in case I got off probation I +could go right back to work. He says he'll do all he can to help me, and +I know he will. But it won't do any good. 'Wheels' won't let me play +until he's found out who did that trick. It's bad enough, Out, to be +blamed for the thing when I didn't do it, but to lose the football team +like this is a hundred times worse. I almost wish I _had_ cut that old +rope!" continued Joel savagely; "then I'd at least have the satisfaction +of knowing that I was only getting what I deserved." West looked +properly sympathetic. + +"It's a beastly shame, that's what I think. What's the good of +'believing you innocent,' as 'Wheels' says, if he goes ahead and +punishes you for the affair? What? Why, there isn't any, of course! If +it was me I'd cut the pesky rope every chance I got until they let up on +me!" Joel smiled despite his ill humor. + +"And I've lost half my interest in lessons, Out. I try not to, but I +can't help it. I guess my chance at the scholarship is gone higher +than a kite." + +"Oh, hang the scholarship!" exclaimed West. "But there's the St. Eustace +game in three weeks. If you don't play in that, Joel, I'll go to +'Wheels' and tell him what I think about it!" + +"It's awfully rough on a fellow, Out, but Professor Wheeler is only +doing what is right, I suppose. He can't let the thing go unnoticed, you +see, and as long as I can't prove my innocence I guess he's right to +hold me to blame for it." + +"Tommyrot!" answered West explosively. "The faculty's just trying to +have us beaten! Why--Say, don't tell a soul, Joel, but Blair's worried +half crazy. They had him up yesterday, and 'Wheels' told him that if he +didn't get better marks from now on he couldn't play. What do you think +of that? They're not _decent_ about it. They're trying to put us _all_ +on probation. Why, how do I know but what they'll put _me_ on?" + +Outfield hit his shoe violently with the driver he held until it hurt +him. For although Joel was debarred from playing golf there was nothing +to keep him from watching West play, and this afternoon the two had been +half over the course together, West explaining the game, and Joel +listening intently, and all the while longing to take a club in hand and +have a whack at the ball himself. + +"That's bad," answered Joel thoughtfully. "It would be all up with us +if Blair shouldn't play." + +"And that's just what's going to happen if 'Wheels' keeps up his present +game," responded Outfield. "Who are those chaps in that shell, Joel? One +looks like Cloud, the fellow in front." Joel watched the approaching +craft for a moment. + +"It is Cloud," he answered. "And that looks like Clausen with him. Why +isn't he practicing, I wonder?" + +"Haven't you heard? He was dropped from the team yesterday. Wills has +his place. Post says, by the way, that he's sorry you're in such a fix, +but he's mighty glad to get back on the first. He's an awfully decent +chap, is Post. Did you see that thing he has in this month's Hilltonian +about Cooke? Says the Fac's going to establish a class in bakery and put +Cooke in as teacher because he's such a fine _loafer_! Say, what's the +matter down there?" + +The shell containing Cloud and Clausen had reached a point almost +opposite to where West and Joel were perched, and as the latter looked +toward it at West's exclamation he saw Cloud throw aside his oars and +stand upright in the boat. Clausen had turned and was looking at his +friend, but still held his oars. + +"By Jove, Joel, she's sinking!" cried Outfield. "Look! Why doesn't +Clausen get out? There goes Cloud over. I wonder if Clausen can swim? +swim? Come on!" + +And half tumbling, half climbing, West sped down the bank on to the +tiny strip of rocks and gravel that lay along the water. Joel followed. +Cloud now was in the water at a little distance from the shell, which +had settled to the gunwales. Clausen, plainly in a state of terror, was +kneeling in the sinking boat and crying to the other lad for help. The +next moment he was in the water, and his shouts reached the two lads on +the beach. Cloud swam toward him, but before he could reach him Clausen +had gone from sight. + +"What shall we do?" cried West. "He's drowning! Can you swim?" For Joel +had already divested himself of his coat and vest, and was cutting the +lacings of his shoes. West hesitated an instant only, then +followed suit. + +"Yes." Off went the last shoe, and Joel ran into the water. West, pale +of face, but with a determined look in his blue eyes, followed a moment +later, a yard or two behind, and the two set out with desperate strokes +to reach the scene of the disaster. As he had taken the water Joel had +cast a hurried glance toward the spot where Clausen had sunk, and had +seen nothing of that youth; only Cloud was in sight, and he seemed to be +swimming hurriedly toward shore. + +Joel went at the task hand over hand and heard behind him West, laboring +greatly at his swimming. Presently Joel heard his name cried in an +exhausted voice. + +"I--can't make--it--Joel!" shouted West. "I'll--have to--turn--back." + +"All right," Joel called. "Go up to the field and send some one for +help." Then he turned his attention again to his strokes, and raising +his head once, saw an open river before him with nothing in sight +between him and the opposite bank save, farther down stream, a floating +oar. He had made some allowance for the current, and when in another +moment he had reached what seemed to him to be near the scene of the +catastrophe, yet a little farther down stream, he trod water and looked +about. Under the bluff to the right Cloud was crawling from the river. +West was gone from sight. About him ran the stream, and save for its +noise no sound came to him, and nothing rewarded his eager, searching +gaze save a branch that floated slowly by. With despair at his heart, he +threw up his arms and sank with wide-open eyes, peering about him in the +hazy depths. Above him the surface water bubbled and eddied; below him +was darkness; around him was only green twilight. For a moment he +tarried there, and then arose to the surface and dashed the water from +his eyes and face. And suddenly, some thirty feet away, an arm clad in a +white sweater sleeve came slowly into sight. + +With a frantic leap through the water Joel sped toward it. A bare head +followed the upstretched arm; two wild, terror-stricken eyes opened and +looked despairingly at the peaceful blue heavens; the white lips moved, +but no sound came from them. And then, just as the eyes closed and just +as the body began to sink, as slowly as it had arisen, and for the last +time, Joel reached it. + +There was no time left in which to pause and select a hold of the +drowning boy, and Joel caught savagely at his arm and struck toward the +bank, and the inert body came to the surface like a water-logged plank. + +"Clausen!" shouted Joel. "Clausen! Can you hear? Brace up! Strike out +with your right hand, and don't grab me! Do you hear?" + +But there was no answer. Clausen was like stone in the water. Joel cast +a despairing glance toward the bluff. Then his eyes brightened, for +there sliding down the bank he saw a crowd of boys, and as he looked +another on the bluff threw down a coil of new rope that shone in the +afternoon sunlight as it fell and was seized by some one in the +throng below. + +Nerved afresh, Joel took a firm grasp on Clausen's elbow and struck out +manfully for shore. It was hard going, and when a bare dozen long +strokes had been made his burden so dragged him down that he was obliged +to stop, and, floundering desperately to keep the white face above +water, take a fresh store of breath into his aching lungs. Then drawing +the other boy to him so that his weight fell on his back, he brought one +limp arm about his shoulder, and holding it there with his left hand +started swimming once more. A dozen more strokes were accomplished +slowly, painfully, and then, as encouraging shouts came from shore, he +felt the body above him stir into life, heard a low cry of terror in his +ear, and then--they were sinking together, Clausen and he, struggling +there beneath the surface! Clausen had his arm about Joel's neck and was +pulling him down--down! And just as his lungs seemed upon the point of +bursting the grasp relaxed around his neck, the body began to sink and +Joel to rise! + +With a deafening noise as of rushing water in his ears, Joel reached, +caught a handful of cloth, and struggled, half drowned himself, to the +surface. And then some one caught him by the chin--and he knew no more +until he awoke as from a bad dream to find himself lying in the sun on +the narrow beach, while several faces looked down into his. + +"Did you get him?" he asked weakly. + +"Yep," answered Outfield West, with something that sounded like a sob +in his voice. "He's over there. He's all right. Don't get up," he +continued, as Joel tried to move. "Stay where you are. The fellows are +bringing a boat, and we'll take you both back in it." + +"All right," answered Joel. "But I guess I'll just look around a bit." +And he sat up. At a little distance a group among which Joel recognized +the broad back of Professor Gibbs were still working over Clausen. But +even as he looked Joel was delighted to see Clausen's legs move and hear +his weak voice speaking to the professor. Then the boat was rowed in, +the occupants panting with their hurried pull from the boathouse, and +Joel clambered aboard, disdaining the proffered help of West and +others, and Clausen was lifted to a seat in the bow. + +On the way up river Joel told how it happened, West throwing in an eager +word here and there, and Clausen in a low whisper explaining that the +shell had struck on a sunken rock or snag when passing the island, and +had begun to sink almost immediately. + +"And Cloud?" asked Professor Gibbs. There was no reply from either Joel +or Clausen or-West. Only one of the rowers answered coldly: + +"He's safe. I saw him on the path near the Society Building. He was +running toward Warren." A silence followed. Then-- + +"You've never learned to swim, Clausen?" + +"No, sir." + +"But it is the rule that no boy is allowed on the river who can not +swim. How is that?" + +"I--I said I could, sir." + +"Humph! Your lie came near to costing you dear, Clausen." + +Then no more was said in the boat until the float was reached, although +each occupant was busy with his thoughts. Clausen was helped, pale and +shaking, to his room, and West and Joel, accompanied by several of their +schoolmates, trotted away to the gymnasium, where Joel was put through +an invigorating bath and a subsequent rubbing that left him none the +worse for his adventure. The story had to be told over and over to each +new group that came in after practice, and finally the two friends +escaped to West's room, where they discussed the affair from the +view-point of participants. + +"When I got back to the bluff with the other fellows you weren't to be +seen, Joel," West was saying, "and I thought it was all up with poor old +Joel March." + +"That's just what I thought a bit later," responded Joel, "when that +fellow had me round the neck and was trying to show me the bottom of +the river." + +"And then, when they brought you in, Whipple and Christie, and you were +all white and--and ghastly like, you know"--Outfield West whistled long +and expressively--"then I thought you _were_ a goner." + +Joel nodded. "And Cloud?" he asked presently. + +"Cloud has settled himself," responded West. "When he thought Clausen +was drowning he just cut and ran--I mean swam--to shore. The fellows are +madder than hornets. As Whipple said, you can't insist on a fellow +saving another fellow from drowning, but you can insist on his not +running away. They're planning to show Cloud what they think of him, +somehow. They wouldn't talk about it while I was around. I wonder why?" +Outfield stopped suddenly and frowned perplexedly. "Why, a month or six +weeks ago I would have been one of the first they would have asked to +help! I'm afraid it's associating with you, Joel. You're corrupting me! +Say, didn't I make a mess of it this afternoon? I got about ten yards +off the beach and just had to give up and pull back--and pull hard. +Blessed if I didn't begin to wonder once if I'd make it! The fact is, +Joel, I'm an awful dab at swimming. And I ought to be punched for +letting you go out there all alone." + +"Nonsense, Out! You couldn't help getting tired, especially if you +aren't much of a swimmer. And now you speak of it I remember you saying +once that you couldn't--" Joel stopped short and looked at West in +wondering amazement. And West grew red and his eyes sought the floor, +and for almost a minute there was silence in the room. Then Joel arose +and stood over the other lad with shining eyes. + +"Out," he muttered huskily, "you're a brick!" + +West made no reply, but his feet shuffled nervously on the hearth. + +"To think of you starting out there after me! Why, you're the--the hero, +Out; not me at all!" + +"Oh, shut up!" muttered West. + +"I'll not! I'll tell every one in school!" cried Joel. "I'll--" + +"If you do, Joel March, I'll thrash you!" cried West. + +"You can't!--you can't, Out!" Then he paused and laid a hand +affectionately on the other's shoulder as he asked softly: + +"And it's really so, Out? You can't--" West shook his head. + +"I'm afraid it's so, Joel," he answered apologetically. "You see out in +Iowa there isn't much chance for a chap to learn, and--and so before +this afternoon, Joel, I never swam a stroke in my life." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +THE PROBATION OF BLAIR. + +Wallace Clausen's narrow escape from death and Joel's heroic rescue were +nine-day wonders in the little world of the academy and village. In +every room that night the incident was discussed from A to Z: Clausen's +foolhardiness, March's grit and courage, West's coolness, Cloud's +cowardice. And next morning at chapel when Joel, fearing to be late, +hurried in and down the side aisle to his seat, his appearance was the +signal for such an enthusiastic outburst of cheers and acclamations that +he stopped, looked about in bewilderment, and then slipped with crimson +cheeks into his seat, the very uncomfortable cynosure of all eyes. + +Older boys, who were supposed to know, stoutly averred that such a +desecration of the sacred solitude of chapel had never before been heard +of, and "Peg-Leg," long since recovered from his contact with the bell +rope, shook his gray head doubtfully, and joined his feeble tones with +the cheers of the others. And then Professor Wheeler made his voice +heard, and commanded silence very sternly, yet with a lurking smile, and +silence was almost secured when, just as the door was being closed, +Outfield West slipped through, smiling, his handsome face flushed from +his tear across the yard. And again the applause burst forth, scarcely +less great in volume or enthusiasm, and West literally bolted back to +the door, found it closed, was met with a grinning shake of the head +from Duffy, looked wildly about for an avenue of escape, and finding +none, slunk to his seat at Joel's side, while the boys joined laughter +at his plight to their cheers for his courage. + +"You promised not to tell!" hissed West with blazing cheek. + +"I didn't, Out; not a word," whispered Joel. + +Many eyes were still turned toward the door, but their owners were +doomed to disappointment, for Bartlett Cloud failed to appear at chapel +that morning, preferring to accept the penalty of absence rather than +face his fellow-pupils assembled there in a body. But he did not escape +public degradation; for, although he waited until the last moment to go +to breakfast, he found the hall filled, and so passed to his seat amid a +storm of hisses that plainly told the contempt in which his schoolmates +held him. And then, as though scorning to remain in his presence, the +place emptied as though by magic, and he was left with burning cheeks to +eat his breakfast in solitude. + +Joel and Outfield were publicly thanked and commended by the principal, +and every master had a handshake and a kind and earnest word for them. +The boys learned that Clausen had taken a severe cold from his +immersion in the icy water, and had gone to the infirmary. Thither they +went and made inquiry. He would be up in a day or two, said Mrs. +Creelman; but they could not see him, since Professor Gibbs had charged +that the patient was not to be disturbed. And so, leaving word for him +when he should awake, Joel and West took themselves away, relieved at +not having to receive any more thanks just then. + +But three days later Clausen left the infirmary fully recovered, and +Joel came face to face with him on the steps of Academy Building. A +number of fellows on their way to recitations stopped and watched the +meeting. Clausen colored painfully, appeared to hesitate for a moment, +and then went to Joel and held out his hand, which was taken and +gripped warmly. + +"March, it's hard work thanking a fellow for saving your life, and--I +don't know how to do it very well. But I guess you'll understand +that--that--Oh, hang it, March! you know what I'd like to say. I'm more +grateful than I could tell you--ever. We haven't been friends, but it +was my fault, I know, and if you'll let me, I'd like to be--to know +you better." + +"You're more than welcome, Clausen, for what I did. I'm awfully glad +West and I happened to be on hand. But there wasn't anything that you or +any fellow couldn't have done just as well, or better, because I came +plaguey near making a mess of it. Anyhow, it's well through with. As +for being friends, I'll be very glad to be, Clausen. And if you don't +mind climbing stairs, and have a chance, come up and see me this +evening. Will you?" + +"Yes, thanks. Er--well, to-night, then." And Clausen strode off. + +After supper West and Clausen came up to Joel's room, and the four boys +sat and discussed all the topics known to school. Richard Sproule was at +his best, and strove to do his share of the entertaining, succeeding +quite beyond Joel's expectations. When the conversation drew around to +the subject of the upsetting on the river, Clausen seemed willing enough +to tell his own experiences, but became silent when Cloud's name was +mentioned. + +"I've changed my room, and haven't seen Cloud since to speak to," he +said. And so Cloud's name was omitted from discussion. + +"I'm sorry," said Clausen, "that I made such a dunce of myself when you +were trying to get me out. I don't believe I knew what I was doing. I +don't remember it at all." + +"I'm sure you didn't," answered Joel. "I guess a fellow just naturally +wouldn't, you know. But I was glad when you let go!" + +"Yes, you must have been. The fellows all say you were terribly plucky +to keep at it the way you did. When they got you it was all they could +do to make you let go of me, they say." + +"The queerest thing," said West, with a laugh, "was to see Post +standing on shore and trying to throw a line to you all. It never came +within twenty yards of you, but he kept on shouting: 'Catch hold--catch +hold, can't you? Why don't you catch hold, you stupid apes?'" + +"And some one told me," said Sproule, "that Whipple took his shoes, +sweater, and breeches off, and swam out there with his nose-guard on." + +"Used it for a life-preserver," suggested West.--"Did you get lectured, +Clausen?" + +"Yes, he gave it to me hard; but he's a nice old duffer, after all. Said +I had had pretty near punishment enough. But I've got to keep in bounds +all term, and can't go on the river again until I learn how to swim." + +"Shouldn't think you'd want to," answered Sproule. + +"Are you still on probation, March?" asked Clausen. + +"Yes, and it doesn't look as though I'd ever get off. If I could find +out who cut that rope I'd--I'd--" + +"Well, I must be going back," exclaimed Clausen hurriedly. "I wish, +March, you'd come and see me some time. My room's 16 Warren. I'm in with +a junior by the name of Bowler. Know him?" + +Joel didn't know the junior, but promised to call, and West and Clausen +said good-night and stumbled down the stairway together. + +The next morning Joel dashed out from his history recitation plump into +Stephen Remsen, who was on his way to the office. + +"Well, March, congratulations! I'm just back from a trip home and was +going to look you up this afternoon and shake hands with you. I'll do it +now. You're a modest-enough-looking hero, March." + +"I don't feel like a hero, either," laughed Joel in an endeavor to +change the subject. "I'm just out from Greek history, and if I could +tell Mr. Oman what I think--" + +"Yes? But tell me, how did you manage--But we'll talk about that some +other time. You're feeling all right after the wetting, are you?" And as +Joel answered yes, he continued: "Do you think you could go to work +again on the team if I could manage to get you off probation?" + +"Try me!" cried Joel. "Do you think they'll let up on me?" + +"I'm almost certain of it. I'm on my way now to see Professor Wheeler, +and I'll ask him about you. I have scarcely any doubt but that, after +your conduct the other day, he will consent to reinstate you, March, if +I ask him. And I shall be mighty glad to do so. To tell the truth, I'm +worried pretty badly about--well, never mind. Never cross a river until +you come to it." + +"But, Mr. Remsen, sir," said Joel, "do you mean that he will let me play +just because--just on account of what happened the other day?" + +"On account of that and because your general conduct has been of the +best; and also, because they have all along believed you innocent of the +charge, March. You know I told you that when Cloud and Clausen were +examined each swore that the other had not left the room that evening, +and accounted for each other's every moment all that day. But, +nevertheless, I am positive that Professor Wheeler took little stock in +their testimony. And as for Professor Durkee, why, he pooh-pooed the +whole thing. You seem to have made a conquest of Professor +Durkee, March." + +"He was very kind," answered Joel thoughtfully. "I don't believe, Mr. +Remsen, that I want to be let off that way," he went on. "I'm no less +guilty of cutting the bell rope than I was before the accident on the +river. And until I can prove that I am not guilty, or until they let me +off of their own free wills, I'd rather stay on probation. But I'm very +much obliged to you, Mr. Remsen." + +And to this resolve Joel adhered, despite all Remsen's powers of +persuasion. And finally that gentleman continued on his way to the +office, looking very worried. + +The cause of his worry was known to the whole school two days later when +the news was circulated that Wesley Blair was on probation. And great +was the consternation. The football game with St. Eustace Academy was +fast approaching, and there was no time to train a satisfactory +substitute for Blair's position at full-back, even had one been in +reach. And Whipple as temporary captain was well enough, but Whipple as +captain during the big game was not to be thought of with equanimity. +The backs had already been weakened by the loss of Cloud, who, despite +his poor showing the first of the season, had it in him to put up a +rattling game. And now to lose Blair! What did the faculty mean? Did it +want Hillton to lose? But presently hope took the place of despair among +the pupils. He was going to coach up and pass a special exam the day +before the game. Professor Ludlow was to help him with his modern +languages and Remsen with his mathematics, while Digbee, that confirmed +old grind, had offered to coach him on Greek. And so it would be all +right, said the school; you couldn't down Blair; he'd pass when the +time came! + +But Remsen--and Blair himself, had the truth been known--were not so +hopeful. And Remsen went to West and besought him to induce Joel to +allow him (Remsen) to ask for his reinstatement. And this West very +readily did, bringing to bear a whole host of arguments which slid off +from Joel like water from a duck's back. And Remsen groaned and shook +his head, but always presented a smiling, cheerful countenance in +public. Those were hard days for the first eleven. Despair and +discouragement threatened on all sides, and, as every thoughtful one +expected, there was such a slump in the practice as kept Remsen and +Whipple and poor Blair awake o' nights during the next week. But Whipple +toiled like a Trojan, and Remsen beamed contentment and scattered +tongue-lashings alternately; and Blair, ever armed with a text-book, +watched from the side-line whenever the chance offered. + +Joel seldom went to the field those days. The sight of a canvas-clad +player made him ready to weep, and a soaring pigskin sent him wandering +away by himself along the river bluff in no enviable state of mind. But +one day he did find his way to the gridiron during practice, and he and +Blair sat side by side, or raced down the field, even with a runner, and +received much consolation in the sort of company that misery loves, and, +deep in discussion of the faults and virtues of the players, forgot +their troubles. + +"Why, it wouldn't have mattered if you were playing, March," said Blair. +"For there's no harm in telling you now that we were depending on you +for half the punting. Remsen thinks you are fine and so do I. 'With +March to take half the punting off your hands,' said he one day, 'you'll +have plenty of time to run the team to the Queen's taste.' Why, we had +you running on the track there, so you would get your lungs filled out +and be able to run with the ball as well as kick it. If you were playing +we'd be all right. But as it is, there isn't a player there that can be +depended on to punt twenty yards if pushed. Some of 'em can't even catch +the ball if they happen to see the line breaking! St. Eustace is eight +pounds heavier in the line than we are, and three or four pounds heavier +back of it. So what will happen? Why, they'll get the ball and push us +right down the field with a lot of measly mass plays, and we won't be +able to kick and we won't be able to go through their line. And it's +dollars to doughnuts that we won't often get round their ends. It's a +hard outlook! Of course, if I can pass--" But there Blair stopped and +sighed dolefully. And Joel echoed the sigh. + +The last few days before the event of the term came, and found the first +eleven in something approaching their old form. Blair continued to burn +the midnight oil and consume page after page of Greek and mathematics +and German, which, as he confided despondently to Digbee, he promptly +forgot the next moment. Remsen made up a certain amount of lost sleep, +and Whipple gained the confidence of the team. Joel studied hard, and +refound his old interest in lessons, and dreamed nightly of the Goodwin +scholarship. West, too, "put in some hard licks," as he phrased it, and +found himself climbing slowly up in the class scale. And so the day of +the game came round. + +The night preceding it two things of interest happened: the eleven and +substitutes assembled in the gymnasium and listened to a talk by Remsen, +which was designed less for instruction than to take the boys' mind off +the morrow's game; and Wesley Blair took his examination in the four +neglected studies, and made very hard work of it, and finally crawled +off to a sleepless night, leaving the professors to make their +decision alone. + +And as the chapel bell began to ring on Thanksgiving Day morning, Digbee +entered Blair's room, and finding that youth in a deep slumber, sighed, +wrote a few words on a sheet of paper, placed this in plain sight upon +the table, and tiptoed noiselessly out. + +And the message read: + +"We failed on the Greek. I'm sorrier than I can tell you.--Digbee." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +THE GAME WITH ST. EUSTACE. + +There is a tradition at Hillton, almost as firmly inwrought as that +which credits Professor Durkee with wearing a wig, to the effect that +Thanksgiving Day is always rainy. To-day proved an exception to the +rule. The sun shone quite warmly and scarce a cloud was to be seen. At +two o'clock the grand stand was filled, and late arrivals had perforce +to find accommodations on the grass along the side-lines. Some fifty +lads had accompanied their team from St. Eustace, and the portion of the +stand where they sat was blue from top to bottom. But the crimson of +Hillton fluttered and waved on either side and dotted the field with +little spots of vivid color wherever a Hilltonian youth or ally sat, +strolled, or lay. + +Yard and village were alike well-nigh deserted; here was the staid +professor, the corpulent grocer, the irrepressible small boy, the +important-looking senior, the shouting, careless junior, the giggling +sister, the smiling mother, the patronizing papa, the crimson-bedecked +waitress from the boarding house, the--the--band! Yes, by all means, +the band! + +There was no chance of overlooking the band. It stood at the upper end +of the field and played and played and played. The band never did things +by halves. When it played it played; and, as Outfield West affirmed, "it +played till the cows came home!" + +There were plenty of familiar faces here to-day; Professor Gibbs's, old +"Peg-Leg" Duffy's, Professor Durkee's, the village postmaster's, "Old +Joe" Pike's, and many, many others. On the ground just outside the rope +sat West and a throng of boys from Hampton House. There were Cooke and +Cartwright and Somers and Digbee--and yes, Wesley Blair, looking very +glum and unhappy. He had donned his football clothes, perhaps from force +of habit, and sat there taking little part in the conversation, but +studying attentively the blue-clad youths who were warming-up on the +gridiron. A very stalwart lot of youngsters, those same youths looked to +be, and handled the ball as though to the manner born, and passed and +fell and kicked short high punts with discouraging ease and vim. + +But one acquaintance at least was missing. Not Bartlett Cloud, for he +sat with his sister and mother on the seats; not Clausen, for he sat +among the substitutes; not Sproule, since he was present but a moment +since. But Joel March was missing. In his room at Masters Hall Joel sat +by the table with a Greek history open before him. I fear he was doing +but little studying, for now and then he arose from his chair, walked +impatiently to the window, from which he could see in the distance the +thronged field, bright with life and color, turned impatiently away, +sighed, and so returned again to his book. But surely we can not tarry +there with Joel when Hillton and St. Eustace are about to meet in +gallant if bloodless combat on the campus. Let us leave him to sigh and +sulk, and return to the gridiron. + +A murmur that rapidly grows to a shout arises from the grand stand, and +suddenly every eye is turned up the river path toward the school. They +are coming! A little band of canvas-armored knights are trotting toward +the campus. The shouting grows in volume, and the band changes its tune +to "Hilltonians." Nearer and nearer they come, and then are swinging on +to the field, leaping the rope, and throwing aside sweaters and coats. +Big Greer is in the lead, good-natured and smiling. Then comes Whipple, +then Warren, and the others are in a bunch--Post, Christie, Fenton, +Littlefield, Barnard, Turner, Cote, Wills. The St. Eustace contingent +gives them a royal welcome, and West and Cooke and Somers and others +take their places in front of the seats and lead the cheering. + +"Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah, Hillton!" The mighty chorus +sweeps across the campus and causes more than one player's heart to +swell within him. + +"S-E-A, S-E-A, S-E-A, Saint Eustace!" What the cheer lacks in volume is +atoned for by good will, and a clapping of hands from the hostile seats +attests admiration. Hillton is warming for the fray. Greer and Whipple +are practicing snapping-back, the latter passing the ball to Warren, +who seizes it and runs a few steps to a new position, where the play is +repeated. The guards and tackles are throwing themselves on to the +ground and clutching rolling footballs in a way that draws a shudder of +alarm from the feminine observer. Stephen Remsen is talking with the +ends very earnestly under the goal posts, and Post and Wills are aiming +balls at the goal with, it must be acknowledged, small success. + +Then a whistle blows, the two teams congregate in the center of the +field, the opposing captains flip a coin, the referee, a Yates College +man, utters a few words of warning, and the teams separate, St. Eustace +taking the ball and the home team choosing the northern goal. Then the +cheering lessens. St. Eustace spreads out; Cantrell, their center, +places the ball; the referee's whistle sounds, the pigskin soars aloft, +and the game is on. + +In charity toward Hillton let us pass over the first half as soon as may +be. Suffice to tell that the wearers of the crimson fought their best; +that Whipple ran the team as well as even Remsen could desire; that Post +made a startling run of forty yards, had only the St. Eustace full-back +between him and the goal--and then ran plump into that full-back's arms; +that Greer and Barnard and Littlefield stood like a stone wall--and went +down like one; that Wills kicked, and Post kicked, and Warren kicked, +and none of them accomplished aught save to wring groans from the souls +of all who looked on. In short, it was St. Eustace's half from kick-off +to call of time, and all because Hillton had never a youth behind the +line to kick out of danger or gain them a yard. For St. Eustace was +heavier in the line than Hillton and heavier back of it, and with the +ball once in her possession St. Eustace had only to hammer away at +center, guard, or tackle with "guards back" or "tandem," to score +eventually. And that is what she did. And yet four times did Hillton +hold St. Eustace literally on her goal-line and take the ball. And each +time by hook or crook, by a short, weak punt or a clever, dashing run +around end, did Hillton win back a portion of her lost territory, only +to lose it again at the second or third attempt to advance the ball. + +The halves were twenty-five minutes long, and in that first twenty-five +minutes St. Eustace scored but once, though near it thrice that many +times. Allen, St. Eustace's right half-back, had plunged over the line +for a touch-down at the end of fifteen minutes of play and Terrill had +missed an easy goal. Then the grand stand was silent save for one small +patch, whereon blue flags went crazy and swirled and leaped and danced +up and down as though possessed of life. And over the field sped, sharp +and triumphant, the St. Eustace cheer. And the score stood: St. Eustace +5, Hillton O. + +The first half ended with the leather but ten yards from the north goal, +and a great murmuring sigh of relief went up from the seats and from +along the side-lines when the whistle sounded. Then the Hillton players, +pale, dirty, half defeated, trotted lamely off the field and around the +corner of the stand to the little weather-beaten shed which served for +dressing room. And the blue-clad team trotted joyfully down to their +stage, and there, behind the canvas protections were rubbed down and +plastered up, and slapped on the back by their delighted coach +and trainer. + +In the Hillton quarters life was less cheerful during the ten minutes of +intermission. After the fellows had rubbed and redressed, Remsen talked +for a minute or two. There was no scolding, and no signs of either +disappointment or discouragement. But he cautioned the team against +carelessness, predicted a tied score at the end of fifteen minutes, and +called for three-times-three for Hillton, which was given with reviving +enthusiasm. A moment later the team trotted back to the field. + + "Touch her down, + Touch her down, + Touch her down again! + H-I-double-L-T-O-N!" + +chanted the wearers of the crimson; and--"St. Eustace! St. Eustace! St. +Eustace!" shouted the visitors as they waved their bright blue banners +in air. The whistle piped merrily, the ball took its flight, and it was +now or never for old Hillton! + +Stephen Remsen joined the string of substitutes and found a seat on the +big gray blanket which held Browne and Clausen. From there he followed +the progress of the game. + +Outwardly he was as happy and contented, as cool and disinterested, as +one of the goal posts. Inwardly he was railing against the fate that had +deprived Hillton of both the players who, had they been in the team, +could have saved the crimson from defeat. Wesley Blair joined him, and +with scarce a word they watched St. Eustace revert to her previous +tactics, and tear great gaping holes in the Hillton line, holes often +large enough to admit of a coach and four, and more than large enough to +allow Allen or Jansen to go tearing, galloping through, with the ball +safe clutched, for three, five? or even a dozen yards! + +No line can long stand such treatment, and, while the +one-hundred-and-fifty-pound Greer still held out, Barnard, the big +right-guard, was already showing signs of distress. St. Eustace's next +play was a small wedge on tackle, and although Barnard threw himself +with all his remaining strength into the breach he was tossed aside like +a bag of feathers and through went the right and left half-backs, +followed by full with the ball, and pushed onward by left-end and +quarter. When down was called the ball was eight yards nearer Hillton's +goal, and Barnard lay still on the ground. + +Whipple held up his hand. Thistelweight--a youth of some one hundred and +forty pounds--struggled agitatedly with his sweater and bounded into the +field, and Barnard, white and weak, was helped limping off. For awhile +St. Eustace fought shy of right-guard, and then again the weight of all +the backs was suddenly massed at that point, and, though a yard +resulted, the crimson wearers found cause for joy, and a ringing cheer +swept over the field. But Littlefield at left-guard was also weakening, +and the tackle beside him was in scarce better plight. And so, with +tandem on tackle, wedge, or guard back, St. Eustace plowed along toward +the Hillton goal, and a deep silence held the field save for the squad +of blue-decked cheerers on the seats. + +Remsen looked at his watch. "Eighteen minutes to play," he announced +quietly. Blair nodded. He made no attempt to disguise his dejection. +Clausen heard, and suddenly turned toward the coach. He was pale, and +Remsen wondered at his excitement. + +"Can't we tie them, sir?" he asked breathlessly. + +"I'm afraid not. And even if we could they'd break loose." Clausen paid +no heed to the sorry joke. + +"But they'll win, sir! Isn't there anything to do?" Remsen stared. Then +he smiled. "Failing an extraordinary piece of luck, my lad, we're +already beaten. Our line can't hold them; we have no one to kick, even +should we get a chance, and--" + +"But if Blair was there, sir, or March?" + +"It might make a difference. Hello! there they go through tackle-guard +hole again. Lord, six yards if an inch!" Blair groaned and rolled over +in despair. The whistle sounded, and as the pile of writhing youths +dissolved it was seen that Tom Warren was hurt. Out trotted the rubber. +The players sank exhausted to the ground and lay stretched upon the +sward, puffing and panting. Two minutes went by. Then Whipple called +for Clausen. + +"Clausen," cried Remsen turning, "go in and--" But Clausen was not to be +seen. "Clausen!" cried a dozen voices. There was no response, and Browne +was taken on instead, and Warren, with an ankle that failed him at every +step, struggled off the field. + +"What's become of Clausen?" asked Remsen. But no one could answer. + +The play went on. With the ball on Hillton's twenty-yard line a fumble +gave it to the home team, and on the first down Browne gathered it in +his arms and tried to skirt St. Eustace's left end, but was thrown with +a loss of a yard. A similar play with Wills as the runner was tried +around the other end and netted a yard and a half. It was the third down +and four and a half yards to gain. Back went the ball to Post and he +kicked. But it was a poor performance, that kick, and only drove the +pigskin down the side-line to the forty-yard line, where it bounded in +touch. But it delayed the evil moment of another score for St. Eustace, +and the seats cheered. + +"Twelve minutes left," announced Remsen. + +Relentless as fate the St. Eustace forwards surged on toward the +opposing goal. Two yards, three yards, one yard, five yards, half a +yard, always a gain, never a check, until once more the leather reposed +just in front of the Hillton goal and midway between the ten and +fifteen-yard line. Then a plunge through the tackle-guard hole, +followed by a tandem on guard, and another five yards was passed. The +cheering from the wearers of the blue was now frantic and continuous. +There was two years of defeat to make up for, and victory was hovering +over the azure banner! + +"Eight minutes to play," said Remsen. "If we can only keep them from +scoring again!" Suddenly there was a murmur from the seats, then a cry +of surprise from Remsen's side, then a shout of exultation that gathered +and grew as it traveled along the line. And around the corner of the +stand came a youth who strove to lace his torn and tattered canvas +jacket as he ran. Remsen leaped to his feet, dropping his pipe +unnoticed, and hastened toward him. They met and for a moment conversed +in whispers. + +"It's Joel March!" cried Blair. "He's going to play!" exclaimed a dozen +voices. "But he can't," cried a dozen others. "He's on probation." "He +is! He is! He's going on! He's going to play!" + +And so he was. Whipple had already seen him, and had sunk to the ground +nursing an ankle which had suddenly gone lame. "Time!" he cried, and +obedient to his demand the referee's whistle piped. "Give your place to +Post, Wills!" he commanded, and then, limping to Joel, he led that +youth apart. + +"Can you play?" he asked hoarsely. + +"Yes." + +"Then get in there at full-back, and, O March, kick us out of this +bloody place! I'll give you the ball on the next down. Kick it for all +you're worth." He gave Joel a shove. "All right, Mr. Referee!" The +whistle sounded. + +Forward charged St. Eustace. But, gathering encouragement from the +knowledge that back of them stood a full who would put them out of +danger if the opportunity were given him, Hillton stood fast. + +"Second down, five yards to gain!" cried the umpire. + +Again the wearers of bedraggled blue stockings surged and broke against +the line. And again there was no gain. Back of Hillton, less than eight +yards away, lay the goal-line. Desperation lends strength. Huddled +together, shoulder to shoulder, the backs bracing from behind, the +crimson-clad youths awaited the next charge. It was "the thin red line" +again. Then back went the ball, there was a moment of grinding canvas, +of muttered words and smothered gasps, of swaying, clutching, falling, +and "Down!" was heard. + +"Hillton's ball; first down," announced the umpire. + +What a cheer went up from the grand stand! What joy was in Remsen's +heart as the St. Eustace full-back went trotting up the field and Greer +stooped over the ball! Then came a pause, a silence. Every one knew what +to look for. Squarely between the posts and directly under the cross-bar +stood Joel March, his left foot on the goal-line. Back came the ball, +straight and low into Joel's outstretched hands. The line blocked long +and hard. One step forward, an easy, long swing of his right leg, and +Joel sent the ball sailing a yard over the upstretched hands of the +opposing line and far and high down the field. + +There it was gathered into the arms of the St. Eustace full-back, but +ere that player had put his foot twice to ground he was thrown, and the +teams lined up on St. Eustace's forty-five-yard line. Then it was that +the god of battle befriended Hillton; for on the next play St. Eustace +made her first disastrous fumble, and Christie, Hillton's right end, +darted through, seized the rolling spheroid, and started down the field. +Five, ten, fifteen, twenty yards he sped, the St. Eustace backs trailing +after him. + +"A touch-down!" cried Remsen. "No, the half's gaining! He's got him! No, +missed him, by Jove! A-ah!" + +The run was over, and Christie lay panting on the ground, with the +triumphant St. Eustace half-back sitting serenely on his head; for, +although the latter had missed his tackle, Christie had slipped in +avoiding him. But cheers for Christie and Hillton filled the afternoon +air, and the two elevens lined up near St. Eustace's twenty-five-yard +line, yet well over toward the side of the field. + +"If it was only in the middle of the field," groaned Blair, "a +place-kick would tie the score. How much time is there, Mr. Remsen?" + +"About two and a half minutes," answered Remsen. "But I've an idea that, +middle or no middle, Whipple's going to signal a kick." + +"It can't be done," answered Blair with conviction, "drop or placement! +March is only fair at goals, and at that angle--" + +"What's the matter with the man?" cried Remsen; "what's he up to?" For +the Hillton backs were clustered well up behind the line as though for a +wedge attack. And as Remsen wondered, the ball was put in play, the line +blocked sharply, and Christie left his place at right end, and skirting +behind the backs received the ball by a double pass _via_ right +half-back and ran for the middle of the field, the backs helping the end +and tackle to hold the St. Eustace right line. Christie gained the +center of the gridiron and advanced a yard toward the opponent's goal +ere the St. Eustace right half-back reached him. Then there was a quick +line-up, and Joel took up his position for a kick. + +"Well done, Whipple!" cried Remsen and Blair in a breath. + +"But the time!" muttered Remsen, "does he know--" + +"One minute to play!" came the ominous announcement. + +Then, while a snap of the fingers could have been heard the length of +the field, Whipple glanced deliberately around at the backs, slapped the +broad back of the center sharply, seized the snapped ball, and made a +swift, straight pass to Joel. Then through the Hillton line went the St. +Eustace players, breaking down with vigor born of desperation the +blocking of their opponents. With a leap into the air the St. Eustace +left-guard bore down straight upon Joel; there was a concussion, and +the latter went violently to earth, but not before his toe had met the +rebounding ball; and the latter, describing a high arc, sailed safely, +cleanly over the bar and between the posts! And then, almost before the +ball had touched the ground, the whistle blew shrilly, and apparent +defeat had been turned into what was as good as victory to the +triumphant wearers of the Hillton crimson! + +Hillton and St. Eustace had played a tie. + +And over the ropes, rushing, leaping, shouting, broke the tide of +humanity, crimson flags swirled over a sea of heads, and pandemonium +ruled the campus! + +And on the ground where he had fallen lay Joel March. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +THE GOODWIN SCHOLARSHIP. + +"But how did it all happen?" asked Outfield West breathlessly. + +He had just entered and was seated on the edge of the bed whereon Joel +lay propped up eating his Thanksgiving dinner from a tray. It was seven +o'clock in the evening, and Dickey Sproule was not yet back. The yard +was noisy with the shouts of lads returning from the dining hall, and an +occasional cheer floated up, an echo of the afternoon's event. Joel +moved a dish of pudding away from Outfield's elbow as he answered +between mouthfuls of turkey: + +"I was up here studying at the table there when I heard some one coming +up stairs two steps at a time. It was Clausen. He threw open the door +and cried: 'They're winning, March, they're winning! Come quick! Remsen +says we can tie them if you play. It's all right, March. We'll go to the +office and I'll tell everything. Only come, hurry!' Well, of course I +thought first he was crazy. Then I guessed what was up, because I knew +that Eustace had scored--" + +"You couldn't have known; you were studying." + +"Well, I--I wasn't studying all the time, Out. So up I jumped, and we +raced over to the office and found Professor Wheeler there asleep on the +leather couch under the window. 'It was Cloud and I, sir, that cut the +rope!' said Clausen. 'I'm very sorry, sir, and I'll take the punishment +and glad to. But March hadn't anything to do with it, sir; he didn't +even know anything about it, sir!' Professor Wheeler was about half +awake, and he thought something terrible was the matter, and it took the +longest time to explain what Clausen was talking about. Then he said he +was glad to learn that I was innocent, and I thanked him, and he started +to ask Clausen a lot of questions. 'But St. Eustace is winning, sir!' I +cried. He looked at me in astonishment. 'Indeed, I'm very sorry to hear +it,' he said. 'But it isn't too late now, sir,' said Clausen. 'For +what?' asked 'Wheels.' 'For me to go on the team,' said I. 'You know, +sir, you put me on probation and I can't play.' 'Oh,' said he, 'but you +were put on probation by the faculty, and the faculty must take you +off.' 'But meanwhile Hillton will be beaten!' said Clausen. 'Can't he +play, sir? He can save the day!' Wheels thought a bit. 'What's the +score?' he asked. Clausen told him. 'Yes,' he said at last, 'run and get +to work. I'll explain to the faculty. And by the way, March, remember +that a kick into touch is always the safest.'" + +"Isn't he a rummy old guy?" exclaimed West. "And then?" + +"Then I struck out for the gym, got into my canvas togs somehow or +other, and reached the field just about in time. Luckily I knew the +signals. And then after I'd kicked that goal that big Eustace chap +struck me like a locomotive, and I went down on the back of my head; and +that's all except that they brought me up here and Professor Gibbs +plastered me up and gave me a lot of nasty sweet water to take." + +"And Clausen?" + +"From the little I heard I think Cloud cut the rope and made Clausen +promise not to tell. And he kept his promise until he saw Hillton +getting beaten yesterday, and then he couldn't stand it, and just up and +told everything, and saved us a licking." + +"Didn't I tell you Cloud did it? Didn't I--" There came a knock on the +door and in response to Joel's invitation Professor Wheeler and Stephen +Remsen entered. West leaped off the bed--there is a rule at Hillton +forbidding occupying beds save for sleep--and upset Joel's tea. +Professor Wheeler smiled as he said: + +"West, you're rather an uneasy fellow to have in a sick-room. Get +something and dry that off the floor there, please.--Well, March, I +understand you got there in the nick of time to-day. Mr. Remsen says you +saved us from defeat." + +"Indeed he did, professor; no one else save Blair could have done it +to-day. That goal from the twenty-five-yard line was as pretty a +performance as I've ever seen.--How are you feeling, lad?" + +"All right," answered Joel. "I've got a bit of a headache, but I'll be +better in the morning." + +"Your appetite doesn't seem to have failed you," said the principal. + +"No, sir, I was terribly hungry." + +"That's a good sign, they say.--West, you may take your seat again." The +professor and Stephen Remsen occupied the two chairs, and West without +hesitation sat down again on the bed. + +"March, I have learned the truth of that affair. Bartlett Cloud, it +appears, cut the bell rope simply in order to throw suspicion on you. He +managed to secure a letter of yours through--hem!--through your +roommate, who, it seems, also bears you a grudge for some real or +fancied slight. Clausen, while a party to the affair, appears to have +taken no active part in it, and only remained silent because threatened +with bodily punishment by Cloud. These boys will be dealt with as +they deserve. + +"But I wish to say to you that all along it has been the belief of the +faculty, the entire faculty, that you had no hand in the matter, and we +are all glad to have our judgments vindicated. An announcement will be +made to-morrow which will set you right again before the school. And +now, in regard to Richard Sproule; do you know of any reason why he +should wish you harm?" "No, sir. We don't get along very well, but--" + +"I see. Now, it will be best for you to change either your room or your +roommate. Have you any preference which you do?" + +"I should like to change my room, sir. I should like to go in with West. +He has a room to himself in Hampton, and wants to have me join him." + +"But do you realize that the rent will be very much greater, March?" + +"Yes, sir, but West wants me to pay only what I have paid for this room, +sir. He says he'd have to pay for the whole room if I didn't go in with +him, and so it's fair that way. Do you think it is, sir?" + +"What would your father say, West?" + +"I've asked him, sir. He says to go ahead and do as I please." The +principal smiled as he replied: + +"Well, March, then move over to West's room to-morrow. It will be all +fair enough. And I shall be rather glad to have you in Hampton House. +Digbee is an example of splendid isolation there; it will be well to +have some one help him maintain the dignity of study amid such a number +of--er--well, say lilies of the field, West; they toil not, if you +remember, and neither do they spin. Don't get up in the morning if your +head still hurts, March; we don't want you to get sick.--Keep a watch on +him, West; and, by the way, if he wants more tea, run over to the dining +hall and tell the steward I said he was to have it. Good-night, boys." + +"Good-night, sir." Remsen shook hands with Joel. + +"March, I hope I shall be able to repay you some day for what you did +this afternoon. It meant more to me, I believe, than it did to even you +fellows. I'm going Thursday next. Come and see me before then if you +can. Good-night." + +When the door had closed Outfield shouted, "Hurrah!" in three different +keys and pirouetted about the room. "It's all fixed, Joel. Welcome to +Hampton, my lad! Welcome to the classic shades of Donothing Hall! We +will live on pickles and comb-honey, and feast like the Romans of old! +We--" He paused. "Say, Joel, I guess Cloud will be expelled, eh?" Joel +considered thoughtfully with a spoonful of rice pudding midway between +saucer and mouth. Then he swallowed the delicacy. "Yes," he replied, +"and I'm awful glad of it." + +But Joel was mistaken; for Cloud was not to be found the next morning, +and the condition of his room pointed to hasty flight. He had taken +alarm and saved himself from the degradation of public dismissal. And so +he passed from Hillton life and was known there no more. Clausen escaped +with a light punishment, for which both Joel and West were heartily +glad. "Because when you get him away from Cloud," said West, "Clausen's +not a bad sort, you know." + +Richard Sproule was suspended for the balance of the fall term, and was +no longer monitor of his floor. Perhaps the heaviest punishment was the +amount of study he was required to do in order to return after Christmas +recess, entailing as it did a total relinquishment of Mayne Reid, Scott, +and Cooper. And when he did return his ways led far from Joel's. Very +naturally that youth had now risen to the position of popular hero, and +unapproachable seniors slapped him warmly on the shoulder--a bit of +familiarity Joel was too good-natured to resent--and wide-eyed little +juniors admired him open-mouthed as he passed them. But Joel bore +himself modestly withal, and was in no danger of being spoiled by a +state of things that might well have turned the head of a more +experienced lad than he. It is a question if Outfield did not derive +more real pleasure and pride out of Joel's popularity than did Joel +himself. Every new evidence of the liking and admiration in which the +latter was held filled Outfield's heart with joy. + +At last Joel found time to begin his course in golf, and almost any day +the two lads might have been seen on the links, formidably armed with a +confusing assortment of clubs, Outfield quite happy to be exhibiting the +science of his favorite sport, and Joel plowing up the sod in a way to +cause a green-tender, had there been such a person on hand, the most +excruciating pain. But Joel went at golf as he went at everything else, +bending all his energies thereto, and driving thought of all else from +his mind, and so soon became, if not an expert, at least a very +acceptable player who won commendation from even West--and where golf +was concerned Outfield was a most unbiased and unsympathetic judge. + +One afternoon Whipple and Blair, the latter once more free from +probation, played a match with Joel and West, and were fairly beaten by +three holes--a fact due less, it is true, to Joel's execution with the +driver than West's all-around playing. But Joel, nevertheless, derived +not a little encouragement from that result, and bade fair to become +almost if not quite as enthusiastic a golfer as West. At first, in the +earlier stages of his initiation, Joel was often discouraged, whereupon +West was wont to repeat the famous reply of the old St. Andrews player +to the college professor, who did not understand why, when he could +teach Latin and Greek, he failed so dismally at golf. "Ay, I ken well ye +can teach the Latin and Greek," said the veteran, "but it takes +_brains_, mon, to play the gowf!" And Joel more than half agreed +with him. + +Remsen departed a week after Thanksgiving, being accompanied to the +train by almost as enthusiastic a throng as had welcomed him upon his +arrival. He had consented to return to Hillton the following year and +coach the eleven once more. "I had expected to make this the last year," +he said, "but now I shall coach, if you will have me, until we win a +decisive victory from St. Eustace. I can't break off my coaching career +with a tie game, you see." And Christie occasioned laughter and applause +by replying, "I'm afraid you're putting a premium on defeat, sir, +because if we win next year's game you won't come back." He shook hands +cordially with Joel, and said: + +"When the election of next year's captain comes off, my boy, it's a +pretty sure thing that you'll have a chance at it. But if you'll take my +advice you'll let it alone. I tell you this because I'm your friend all +through. Next fall will be time enough for the honors; this year should +go to hard work without any of the trouble that falls to the lot +of captain." + +"Thank you, Mr. Remsen," Joel answered. "I hadn't thought of their doing +such a thing. I don't see why they should want me. But if it's offered +you may be sure I'll decline. I'd be totally unfitted for it; and, +besides, I haven't got the time!" + +And so, when two weeks later the election was held in the gymnasium one +evening, Joel did decline, to the evident regret of all the team, and +the honor went to Christie, since both Blair and Whipple were seniors +and would not be in school the next autumn. And Christie made a very +manly, earnest speech, and subsequently called for three times three for +Blair, and three times three for Remsen, and nine times three for +Hillton, all of which were given with a will. + +As the Christmas recess approached, Joel spent a great deal of valuable +time in unnecessary conjecture as to his chance of winning the Goodwin +scholarship, and undoubtedly lessened his chance of success by worrying. +The winners were each year announced in school hall on the last day of +the term. The morning of that day found Outfield West very busy packing +a heap of unnecessary golf clubs and wearing apparel into his trunk and +bags, and found Joel seated rather despondently on the lounge looking +on. For West was to spend his vacation with an uncle in Boston, and +Joel, although Outfield had begged him to go along, asserting positively +that his uncle would be proud and happy to see him (Joel), was to spend +the recess at school, since he felt he could not afford the expense of +the trip home. West hesitated long over a blue-checked waistcoat and at +length sighed and left it out. + +"Isn't it most time to go over?" asked Joel. + +"No; don't you be in a hurry. There's a half hour yet. And if you're +going to get the Goodwin you'll get it, and there isn't any use stewing +over it," replied West severely. "As for me, I'm glad I'm not a grind +and don't have to bother my head about such tommyrot. Just sit on the +lid of this pesky thing, Joel, will you? I'm afraid that last coat was +almost too much for it." + +But even suspense comes to an end, and presently Joel found himself +seated by West in the crowded hall, and felt his face going red and pale +by turns, and knew that his heart was beating with unaccustomed violence +beneath his shabby vest. Professor Wheeler made his speech--and what a +long one it seemed to many a lad!--and then the fateful list was lifted +from the table. + +"Senior class scholarships have been awarded as follows," announced the +principal. "The Calvin scholarship to Albert Park Digbee, Waltham, +Massachusetts." Joel forgot his unpleasant emotions while he clapped and +applauded. But they soon returned as the list went on. Every +announcement met with uproarous commendation, and boy after boy arose +from his seat and more or less awkwardly bowed his recognition. The +principal had almost completed the senior list. + +"Ripley scholarships to George Simms Lennox, New York city; John Fiske, +Brookville, Mississippi; Carleton Sharp Eaton, Milton, Massachusetts; +William George Woodruff, Portland, Maine. Masters scholarships to Howard +McDonnell, Indianapolis, Indiana; Thomas Grey, Yonkers, New York; +Stephen Lutger Williams, Connellsville, Rhode Island; Barton Hobbs, +Farmington, Maine; Walter Haskens Browne, Denver, Colorado; and Justin +Thorp Smith, Chicago, Illinois." + +Joel's hands were cold and his feet just wouldn't keep still. The +principal leaned down and took up the upper middle class list. West +nudged Joel smartly in the ribs, and whispered excitedly: + +"Now! Keep cool, my boy, keep cool!" + +Then Joel heard Professor Wheeler's voice reading from the list, and for +a moment it seemed to come from a great distance. + +"Upper middle class scholarships have been awarded as follows:" There +was a pause while he found his place. "Goodwin scholarship to Harold +Burke Reeves, Saginaw, Michigan." + +West subsided in his seat with a dismal groan. Joel did not hear it. It +is doubtful if he heard anything until several minutes later, when the +pronouncement of his name awoke him from the lethargy into which he +had fallen. + +"Masters scholarships to Joel March, Marchdale, Maine--" + +"It's better than nothing, Joel," whispered Outfield. "It's fifty +dollars, you know." But Joel made no reply. What was a Masters to him +who had set his heart on the first prize of all? Presently, when the +lists were over, he stole quietly out unnoticed by his chum, and when +West returned to the room he found Joel at the table, head in hands, an +open book before him. West closed the door and walked noiselessly +forward in the manner of one in a sick-room, At length he asked in a +voice which strove to be natural and unconcerned: + +"What are you doing, Joel?" + +The head over the book only bent closer as its owner answered doggedly: + +"Studying Greek!" + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +THE BOAT RACE. + +The balance of that school year was a season of hard study for Joel. It +was not in his nature to remain long despondent over the loss of the +Goodwin scholarship, and a week after the winter term commenced he was +as cheerful and light-hearted as ever. But his failure served to spur +him on to renewed endeavors, and as a result he soon found himself at +the head of the upper middle. Rightly or wrongly--and there is much to +be said on both sides--he gave up sports almost entirely. Now and then +West persuaded him to an afternoon on the links, but this was +infrequent. The hockey season opened with the first hard ice on the +river, and West joined the team that met and defeated St. Eustace in +January. There was one result of his application to study that Joel had +not looked for. Outfield West, perhaps from a mere desire to be +companionable, took to lessons, and, much to his own pretended dismay, +began to earn the reputation of a diligent student. + +"You won't talk," growled West, "you won't play chess, you won't eat +things. You just drive a chap to study!" As spring came in the school +talk turned to baseball and rowing. For the former Joel had little +desire, but rowing attracted him, and he began to allow himself the +unusual pleasure of an hour away from lessons in the afternoon that he +might go down to the boathouse with West, and there, in a sunny angle of +the building, watch the crews at work upon the stream. Hillton was +trying very hard to turn out a winning crew, and Whipple, who was +captain of the first eight, toiled as no captain had toiled before in +the history of Hillton aquatics. + +The baseball season ended disastrously with a severe drubbing for the +Hillton nine at the hands of St. Eustace on the latter's home ground. +The fellows said little, but promised to atone for it when the boat race +came off. This occurred two days before class day, which this year came +on June 22d, and very nearly every pupil traveled down the river to +Marshall to witness it. The day away from school came as a welcome +relief after the worry and brain-aching of the spring examination, and +Joel, although he knew for a certainty that he had passed with the +highest marks, was glad to obey Outfield's stern decree and accompany +that youth to the scene of the race. + +They went by train and arrived at the little town at noon. After a regal +repast of soup and sandwiches, ice cream and chocolate éclairs, the two +set out for the river side. The Hillton crew had come down the day +before with their new shell, and had spent the night at the only hotel +in the village. The race was to be started at three, and West and Joel +spent the intervening time in exploring the river banks for a mile in +each direction from the bridge, and in getting their feet wet and their +trousers muddy. + +By the hour set for the start the river sides were thronged with +spectators, and rival cheers floated across the sparkling stream from +bank to bank. That side of the river whereon St. Eustace Academy lies +hidden behind a hill held the St. Eustace supporters, while upon the +other bank the Hillton lads and their friends congregated. But the long +bridge, something more than a mile below, was common ground, and here +the foes mingled and strove to outshout each other. + +The river is broad here below Marshall, and forms what is almost a +basin, hemmed in on either side by low wooded bluffs. From where Joel +and West, with a crowd of Hillton fellows, stood midway upon the bridge, +the starting point, nearly a mile and a half up stream was plainly +visible, and the finish line was a few rods above them. West was +acquainted with several of the St. Eustace boys, and to these Joel was +introduced and was welcomed by them with much cordiality and examined +with some curiosity. He had accomplished the defeat of their Eleven, and +they would know what sort of youth he was. + +While they were talking, leaning against the railing of the bridge, Joel +suddenly caught West's arm and drew his attention to a boy some distance +away who was looking toward the starting point through a pair of field +glasses. West indulged in a long whistle, plainly indicative of +amazement. + +"Who's that fellow over there?" he asked. One of the St. Eustace boys +followed the direction of his gaze. + +"Well, you ought to know him. He knows you. That's Bartlett Cloud. He +was at Hillton last term, and left because he was put off the Eleven; or +so he says." + +"Humph!" ejaculated Outfield West. "He left to keep from being +expelled, he did. He left because he was mixed up in some mighty dirty +work, and knew that, even if they let him stay in school, no decent +fellow would associate with him. And you can tell him from me that if he +says I know him he's a liar. I don't know him from--from mud! I should +think you'd be proud of him at Eustace." + +"We didn't know that," answered the St. Eustace boy in perplexity. "We +thought--" + +"What?" demanded West as the other paused. + +"Well, he said that the coach was down on him, and gave his place to +your friend here, and--" + +"No," answered Joel quietly. "I didn't take his place. He tried to +strike me one day at practice, and Remsen, our coach, put him off. That +was all. Afterward he--he--But it isn't worth talking about." + +"But I didn't know that St. Eustace made a practice of taking in +cast-off scamps from other schools," said West. The other lad flushed as +he answered apologetically: + +"We didn't know, West. He said he was a friend of yours and so--But the +other fellows shall know about him." Then there was a stir on the bridge +and a voice cried, "There they go to the float!" + +Up the stream at the starting point two shells were seen leisurely +paddling toward a float anchored a few yards off the right bank. The +colors were easily distinguishable, and especially did the crimson of +Hillton show up to the eager watchers on the bridge. Every eye was +turned toward the two boats, and a silence held the throng, a silence +which lasted until sixteen oar-blades caught the water almost together, +and the two boats began to leave the float behind. Then cries of +"They're off!" were raised, and there was a general shoving and pushing +for places of observation on the up-stream side of the structure, while +along the banks the crowds began to move about again. + +It was Joel's first sight of a boat race, and he found himself becoming +very excited, while West, veteran though he was, breathed a deal faster, +and talked in disjointed monosyllables. + +"Side by side!... No, Hillton's ahead!... Isn't she?... Eh ... You +can't... see from here ... which is ... leading.... Get another hold on +my ... arm, ... Joel; that one's black ... and blue! ... Hillton's +ahead! Hillton's ahead by a half length!" + +But she wasn't. Side by side the two shells swept on toward the first +half-mile mark. They were both rowing steadily, with no endeavor to draw +away, Hillton at thirty strokes, St. Eustace at thirty-two. The course +was two miles, almost straight away down the river. The half-mile buoy +was not distinguishable from where Joel stood, but the mile was plainly +in sight. Some one who held a stop-watch behind Joel uttered an +impatient growl at the slow time the crews were making. + +"There'll be no record broken to-day," he said. "They're eight seconds +behind already for the first quarter." + +But Joel didn't care about that. If only those eight swaying forms might +pass first beyond the finish line he cared but little what the time +might be. The cheering, which had ceased as the boats left the start, +now began again as they approached the finish of the first quarter of +the course. + +"Rah-rah-rah; rah-rah-rah; rah-rah-rah, Hillton!" rang out from the +right bank. + +"S, E, A; S, E, A; S, E, A; Saint Eustace!" replied the left bank with a +defiant roar of sound that was caught by the hills and flung back in +echoes across the water. "Saint Eustace! Saint Eustace! Saint Eustace!" +"Hillton! Hillton! Hillton!" + +Then the cheering grew louder and more frenzied as, boat to boat, the +rival eights passed the half-mile buoy, swinging along with no +perceptible effort over the blue, dancing water. + +"Anybody's race," said Outfield West, as he lowered his glasses. "But +Hillton's got the outside course on the turn." The turn was no more than +a slight divergence from the straight line at the one-mile mark, but it +might mean from a half to three quarters of a length to the outside +boat should they maintain their present relative positions. For the next +half mile the same moderate strokes were used until the half-course buoy +was almost reached, when Hillton struck up to thirty-two and then to +thirty-four, and St. Eustace increased her stroke to the latter number. +It was a race for the position nearest the buoy, and St. Eustace won it, +Hillton falling back a half length as the course was changed. Then the +strokes in both boats went back to thirty-two, Hillton seemingly willing +to keep in the rear. On and on they came, the oars taking the water in +unison, and shining like silver when the sun caught the wet blades. And +back, the wakes seemed like two ruled marks, so straight they were. +There was no let up of the cheering now. Back and forth went challenge +and reply across the stream, while the watchers on the bridge fairly +shook that iron-trussed structure with the fury of their slogans. + +As the boats neared the three-quarter buoy it was plain to all who +looked that the real race was yet to come. Hillton suddenly hit up her +stroke to thirty-four, to thirty-six, to thirty-eight, and, a bit ragged +perhaps, but nevertheless at a beautiful speed, drew up to St. Eustace, +shoved her nose a quarter length past, and hung there, despite St. +Eustace's best efforts to shake her off. + +Both boats were now straining their uttermost, and from now on to the +finish it was to be the stiffest rowing of which each was capable. +Hillton _was_ ragged on the port side, and bow was plainly tuckered. +But St. Eustace also showed signs of wear, and there was an evident +disposition the length of the boat to hurry through the stroke. Joel was +straining his eyes on the crimson backs, and West was vainly and +unconsciously endeavoring to see through the glasses from the wrong end. +The three-quarter mark swept past the boats, and Hillton still +maintained her lead. + +The judges' boat, a tiny, saucy naphtha launch, had steamed down to the +finish, and now quivered there as though from impatience and excitement, +and awaited the victor. Suddenly there was a groan of dismay from the +St. Eustace supporters. And no wonder. Their boat had suddenly dropped +behind until its nose was barely lapping the rival shell. Number Four +was rowing "out of time and tune," as Joel shouted triumphantly, and +although he soon steadied down, the damage was hard to repair, for +Hillton, encouraged by the added lead, was rowing magnificently. + +But with strokes that brought cries of admiration even from her foes St. +Eustace struggled gloriously to recover her lost water. Little by little +the nose of her boat crept up and up, until it was almost abreast with +Number Three's oar, while cries of encouragement from bridge and shore +urged her on. But now Green, the Hillton coxswain, turned his head +slightly, studied the position of the rival eight, glanced ahead at the +judges' boat, and spoke a short, sharp command. + +And instantly, ragged port oars notwithstanding, the crimson crew seemed +to lift their boat from the water at every stroke, and St. Eustace, +struggling gamely, heroically, to the last moment, fell farther and +farther behind. A half length of clear water showed between them, then a +length, then--and now the line was but a stone-throw away--two fair +lengths separated the contestants. And amid the deafening, frenzied +shrieks of their schoolmates, their crimson-clad backs rising and +falling like clock-work, all signs of raggedness gone, the eight heroes +swept over the line winners by two and a half lengths from the St. +Eustace crew, and disappeared under the bridge to emerge on the other +side with trailing oars and wearied limbs. + +And as they went from sight, Joel, stooping, yelling, over the railing, +saw, with the piercing shriek of the launch's whistle in his ears, the +upraised face of Green, the coxswain, smiling placidly up at him. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +GOOD-BY TO HILLTON. + +Joel took the preliminary examination for Harwell University in June, +and left class day morning for home. He had the satisfaction of seeing +his name in the list of honor men for the year, having attained A or B +in all studies for the three terms. The parting with Outfield West was +shorn of much of its melancholy by reason of the latter's promise to +visit Joel in August. The suggestion had been made by Outfield, and Joel +had at once warmly pressed him to come. + +"Only, you know, Out," Joel had said, "we don't live in much style. And +I have to work a good deal, so there won't be much time for fun." + +"What do you have to do?" asked West. + +"Well, milk, and go to mill, and perhaps there will be threshing to do +before I leave. And then there's lots of other little things around the +farm that I generally do when I'm home." + +"That's all right," answered West cheerfully. "I'll help. I milked a cow +once. Only--Say, what do you hit a cow with when you milk her?" + +"I don't hit her at all," laughed Joel. "Do you?" + +"I _did_. I hit her with a plank and she up and kicked me eight times +before I could move off. Perhaps I riled her. I thought you should +always hit them before you begin." + +Joel had not seen his parents since he had left home in the preceding +fall, and naturally a warm welcome awaited him. Mr. March, to Joel's +relief, did not appear to regret the loss of the Goodwin scholarship +nearly as much as Joel himself had done, and seemed rather proud than +otherwise of the lad's first year at the Academy. + +In August Outfield West descended at the little station accompanied by +two trunks, a golf-bag, a photograph camera, and a dress-suit case; and +Farmer March regarded the pile of luggage apprehensively, and +undoubtedly thought many unflattering thoughts of West. But as no one +could withstand that youth for long, at the end of three days both +Joel's father and mother had accepted him unreservedly into their +hearts. As for Joel's brother Ezra, and his twelve-year-old sister, they +had never hesitated for a single instant. + +Mr. March absolutely forbade Joel from doing any of the chores after +West arrived at the farm, and sent the boys off on a week's hunting and +fishing excursion with Black Betty and the democrat wagon. West took his +camera along, but was prevailed on to leave his golf clubs at the farm; +and the two had eight days of ideal fun in the Maine woods, and +returned home with marvelous stories of adventure and a goodly store of +game and fish. + +West was somewhat disappointed in the golfing facilities afforded by the +country about Marchdale, but politely refrained from allowing the fact +to be known by Joel. Outside of the "pasture" and the "hill-field" the +ground was too rocky and broken to make driving a pleasure, and after +losing half a dozen balls Outfield restricted himself to the pasture, +where he created intense interest on the part of the cows. He found that +he got along much more peaceably with them when he appeared without +his red coat. + +In September, happy, healthy, and well browned, the two boys returned to +Hillton with all the dignity becoming the reverend Senior. West had +abandoned his original intention of entering Yates College, and had +taken with Joel the preliminary examination for Harwell; and they were +full of great plans for the future, and spent whole hours telling each +other what marvelous things awaited them at the university. + +Joel's Senior year at Hillton was crowded with hard work and filled with +incident. But, as it was more or less a repetition of the preceding +year, it must needs be told of briefly. If space permitted I should like +to tell of Joel's first debate in the Senior Debating Society, in which +he proved conclusively and to the satisfaction of all present that the +Political Privileges of a Citizen of Athens under the Constitution of +Cleisthenes were far superior to those of a Citizen of Rome at the Time +of the Second Punic War. And I should like to tell of the arduous +training on the football field and in the gymnasium, by means of which +Joel increased his sphere of usefulness on the Eleven, and learned to +run with the ball as well as kick it, so proving the truth of an +assertion made by Stephen Remsen, who had said, "With such long legs as +those, March, you should be as fine a runner as you are a kicker." + +And I should like to go into tiresome detail over the game with St. +Eustace, in which Joel made no star plays, but worked well and steadily +at the position of left half-back, and thereby aided in the decisive +victory for Hillton that Remsen had spoken of; for the score at the end +of the first half was, Hillton 5, St. Eustace 0; and at the end of the +game, Hillton 11, St. Eustace 0. + +Joel and Remsen became fast and familiar friends during that term, and +when, a few days after the St. Eustace game, Remsen took his departure +from the Academy, no more to coach the teams to glorious victory or +honorable defeat, Joel of all the school was perhaps the sorriest to +have him go. But Remsen spoke hopefully of future meetings at Harwell, +and Joel and West waved him farewell from the station platform and +walked back to the yard in the manner of chief mourners at a funeral. + +Outfield West again emerged triumphant from the golf tournament, and the +little pewter mug remained securely upon his mantel, a receptacle for +damaged balls. For some time the two missed the familiar faces of +Digbee and Blair and Whipple and some few others. Somers and Cooke still +remained, the latter with radiant hopes of graduation the coming June, +the former to take advanced courses in several studies. Clausen was a +frequent visitor to Number Four Hampton, and both West and Joel had +conceived a liking for him which, as the year went by, grew into sincere +friendship. Those who had been intimate with Wallace Clausen when he was +under the influence of Bartlett Cloud saw a great difference in the lad +at this period. He had grown manlier, more earnest in tone and +attainments, and had apparently shaken off his old habit of weak +carelessness as some insects shed their skins. He, too, was to enter +Harwell the coming fall, a fact which strengthened the bond between the +three youths. + +One resolve was uppermost in Joel's heart when he began his last year at +Hillton, and that was to gain the Goodwin scholarship. His failure the +year before had only strengthened his determination to win this time; +and win he did, and was a very proud and happy lad when the lists were +read and the name of "Joel March, Marchdale, Maine," led all the rest. +And it is to be supposed that there was much happiness in the great +rambling snow-covered farmhouse up north when Joel's telegram was +received; for Joel could not wait for the mail to carry the good news, +but must needs run at once to the village and spend a bit of his +prospective fortune on a "night message." + +Despite this fortune of two hundred and forty dollars, Joel elected to +spend his Christmas holidays again at Hillton, and Outfield, when he +learned of the intention, declined his uncle's invitation and remained +also. The days passed quickly and merrily. There was excellent skating +on the river, and Joel showed West the methods of ice-fishing, though +with but small results of a finny nature. + +Cicero's Orations gave place to De Senectute, the Greek Testament to +Herodotus, and Plane Geometry to Solid; and spring found Joel with two +honor terms behind him, and as sure as might be of passing his final +examination for college. + +Again in June St. Eustace and Hillton met on the river, and, as though +to atone for her defeat on the gridiron, Fate gave the victory to St. +Eustace, the wearers of the blue crossing the finish a full length ahead +of the Hillton eight. The baseball team journeyed down to Marshall and +won by an overwhelming majority of runs, and journeyed home again in the +still of a June evening, bringing another soiled and battered ball to +place in the trophy case of the gymnasium. + +And finally, one bright day in early summer, Joel put on his best +clothes and, accompanied by West and Clausen, took his way to the +chapel, where, amid an eloquent silence, Professor Wheeler made his +farewell address, and old, gray-haired Dr. Temple preached the +Valedictory Sermon. Then the diplomas were presented, and, save for the +senior class exercises in the school hall in the afternoon, Class Day +was over, and Joel March's school days were past. Joel was graduated at +the head of the class, an honor man once more; and Outfield West, +greatly to every one's amazement, not excepting his own, was also on the +honor list. Cooke passed at last, and later confided to West that he +didn't know what he'd do now that they wouldn't let him stay longer at +Hillton; he was certain he would feel terribly homesick at Harwell. West +playfully suggested that he stay at Hillton and take an advanced course, +and Cooke seemed quite in the notion until he found that he would be +obliged to make the acquaintance of both Livy and Horace. + +A lad can not stay two years at a school without becoming deeply +attached to it, and both Joel and West took their departures from +Hillton feeling very melancholy as the wooded hill, crowned by the +sun-lit tower, faded from sight. West went directly to his home, +although Joel had tried to persuade him to visit at Marchdale for a few +weeks. In July Joel received a letter from Outfield asking him to visit +him in Iowa, and, at the solicitation of his parents, he decided to +accept the invitation. The West was terra incognita to Joel, and he +found much to interest and puzzle him. The methods of farming were so +different from those to which he had been accustomed that he spent the +first week of his stay in trying to revolutionize them, much to the +amusement of both Outfield and his father. He at length learned that +Eastern ways are not Western ways, and so became content to see wheat +harvested by machinery and corn cultivated with strange, new implements. + +He received one day a letter forwarded from Marchdale which bore the +signature of the captain of the Harwell Varsity Football Eleven. It +asked him to keep in practice during the summer, and, if convenient, to +report on the field two days before the commencement of the term. +Remsen's name was mentioned and Joel knew that he had him to thank for +the letter. + +The friends had decided to take a room together, and had applied for one +in the spring. Much to their gratification they were given a third floor +room in Mayer, one of the best of the older college dormitories. When +the time came for going East both West and Joel were impatient to be on +the way. Mrs. West accompanied the boys, and the little party reached +the old, elm-embowered college town four days before the opening of the +term. Agreeably to the request of the football captain, Joel reported on +the field in football togs the day after reaching town, and was given a +cordial welcome. Captain Button was not there, but returned with the +Varsity squad from a week's practice at a neighboring village two +days later. + +Mrs. West meanwhile toiled ceaselessly at furnishing the boys' room, and +the result was a revelation to Joel, to whom luxurious lounges and +chairs, and attractive engravings, were things hitherto admired and +longed for from a distance. And then, bidding a farewell to the lads, +Outfield's mother took her departure for home, and they were left +practically rulers of all they surveyed, and, if the truth were told, a +trifle sobered by the suddenness of their plunge into independence. + +And one warm September day the college bell rang for chapel and the two +lads had begun a new, important, and to them exciting chapter of +their lives. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +THE SACRED ORDER OF HULLABALOOLOO. + +Picture a mild, golden afternoon in early October, the yellowing green +of Sailors' Field mellow and warm in the sunlight, the river winding its +sluggish way through the broad level marshes like a ribbon of molten +gold, and the few great fleecy bundles of white clouds sailing across +the deep blue of the sky like froth upon some placid stream. Imagine a +sound of fresh voices, mellowed by a little distance, from where, to and +fro, walking, trotting, darting, but ever moving like the particles in a +kaleidoscope, many squads of players were practicing on the football +field. Such, then, is the picture that would have rewarded your gaze had +you passed through the gate and stood near the simple granite shaft +which rises under the shade of the trees to commemorate the little +handful of names it bears. + +Had you gone on across the intervening turf until the lengthened shadow +of the nearest goal post was reached you would have seen first a +squad--a veritable awkward squad--arranged in a ragged circle and +passing a football with much mishandling and many fumbles. Further along +you would have seen a long line of youths standing. Their general +expression was one of alertness bordering on alarm. The casual observer +would have thought each and every one insane, as, suddenly darting from +the line, one after another, they flung themselves upon the ground, +rolled frantically about as though in spasms, and then arose and went +back into the rank. But had you observed carefully you would have +noticed that each spasm was caused by a rolling ball, wobbling its +erratic way across the turf before them. + +Around about, in and out, forms darted after descending spheroids, or +seized a ball from outstretched hands, started desperately into motion, +charged a few yards, and then, as though reconsidering, turned and +trotted back, only to repeat the performance the next moment. And +footballs banged against broad backs with hollow sounds, or rolled about +between stoutly clad feet, or ascended into the air in great arching +flights. And a babel of voices was on all sides, cries of warning, sharp +commands, scathing denouncements. + +"Straighten your arm, man; that's not a baseball!" "Faster, faster! Put +some ginger into it!" "Get on your toes, Smith. Start when you see the +ball coming. This isn't a funeral!" "Don't stoop for the ball; fall on +it! The ground will catch you!" "Jones, what _are_ you doing? Wake up." +"No, _no_, NO! Great Scott, the ball won't _bite_ you!" + +The period was that exasperating one known as "the first two weeks," +when coaches are continually upon the border of insanity and players +wonder dumbly if the game is worth the candle. To-day Joel, one of a +squad of unfortunates, was relearning the art of tackling. It was Joel's +first experience with that marvelous contrivance, "the dummy." One after +another the squad was sent at a sharp spurt to grapple the inanimate +canvas-covered bag hanging inoffensively there, like a body from a +gallows, between the uprights. + +There are supposed to be two ways to tackle, but the coach who was +conducting the operations to-day undoubtedly believed in the existence +of at least thrice that number; for each candidate for Varsity honors +tackled the dummy in a totally different style. The lift tackle is +performed by seizing the opponent around the legs below the hips, +bringing his knees together so that further locomotion is an +impossibility to him, and lifting him upward off the ground and +depositing him as far backward toward his own goal as circumstances and +ability will permit. The lift tackle is the easiest to make. The dive +tackle pertains to swimming and suicide. Running toward the opponent, +the tackler leaves the ground when at a distance of a length and a half +and dives at the runner, aiming to tackle a few inches below the hips. A +dive tackle well done always accomplishes a well-defined pause in the +runner's progress. + +Joel was having hard work of it. Time and again he launched himself at +the swaying legs, bringing the canvas man to earth, but always picking +himself up to find the coach observing him very, very coldly, and to +hear that exasperating gentleman ask sarcastically if he (Joel) thinks +he is playing "squat tag." And then the dummy would swing back into +place, harboring no malice or resentment for the rough handling, and +Joel would take his place once more and watch the next man's attempt, +finding, I fear, some consolation in the "roast" accorded to the latter. + +It was toward the latter part of the second week of college. Joel had +practiced every day except Sundays, and had just arrived at the +conclusion that football as played at Harwell was no relation, not even +a distant cousin to the game of a similar name played at Hillton. Of +course he was wrong, since intercollegiate football, whether played by +schoolboys or college students, is still intercollegiate football. The +difference lies only in the state of development. At Hillton the game, +very properly, was restricted to its more primary methods; at Harwell it +is developed to its uttermost limits. It is the difference between whist +over the library table and whist at the whist club. + +But all things come to an end, and at length the coach rather +ungraciously declared he could stand no more and bade them join the rest +of the candidates for the run. That run was two miles, and Joel finally +stumbled into the gymnasium tuckered out and in no very good temper just +as the five o'clock whistle on the great printing house sounded. + +After dinner in the dining hall that evening Joel confided his doubts +and vexations to Outfield as they walked back to their room. "I wouldn't +care if I thought I was making any progress," he wailed, "but each day +it gets worse. To-day I couldn't seem to do a start right, and as for +tackling that old dummy, why--" + +"Well, you did as well as the other chaps, didn't you?" asked Outfield. + +"I suppose so. He gave it to us all impartially." + +"Well, there you are. He can't tell you you're the finest young tacklers +that ever happened, because you'd all get swelled craniums and not do +another lick of work. I know the sort of fellow he is. He'll never tell +you that you are doing well; only when he's satisfied with you he'll +pass you on. You see. And don't you care what he says. Just go on and do +the best you know how. Blair told me to-day that if you tried you could +make the Varsity before the season is over. What do you think of that? +He says the coaches are puzzling their brains to find a man that's fit +to take the place of Dangfield, who was left-half last year." + +"I dare say," answered Joel despondently, "but Durston will never let me +stop tackling that dummy arrangement. I'll be taking falls out of it all +by myself when the Yates game is going on. Who invented that +thing, anyhow?" + +But, nevertheless, Joel's spirits were very much better when the two +lads reached the room and West had turned on the soft light of the +argand. And taking their books in hand, and settling comfortably back in +the two great cozy armchairs, they were soon busily reading. + +Hazing has "gone out" at Harwell, and so, when at about nine the two +boys beard many footfalls outside their door, and when in response to +West's loud "Come" five mysterious and muffled figures in black masks +entered they were somewhat puzzled what to think. + +"March?" asked a deep voice. + +"Yes," answered Joel with a wondering frown. + +"West?" + +"Yep. What in thunder do you want? And who in thunder are you?" + +"Freshies, aren't you?" continued the inexorable voice. The maskers had +closed and locked the door behind them, and now stood in rigid +inquisitorial postures between it and the table. + +"None of your business," answered West crossly. "Get out, will you?" + +"Not until our duties are done," answered the mask. "You are freshies, +nice, new, tender little freshies. We are here to initiate you into the +mysteries of the Sacred Order of Hullabalooloo. Stand up!" Neither +moved; they were already standing, West puzzled and angry, Joel +wondering and amused. + +"Well, sit down, then," commanded the voice. Joel looked meaningly at +Outfield, and as the latter nodded the two rushed at the members of the +Sacred Order of Hullabalooloo. But the latter were prepared. Over went +the nearest armchair, down from the wall with a clatter came a rack of +books, and this way and that swayed the forms of the maskers and the +two roommates. The battle was short but decisive, and when it was done, +Joel lay gasping on the floor and Outfield sprawled breathless on +the couch. + +"Will you give up?" asked the first mask. + +"Yes," growled West, and Joel echoed him. + +"Then you may get up," responded the mask. "But, mind you, no tricks!" +Joel thought he heard the sound of muffled laughter from one of the +masks as he arose and arranged his damaged attire. "Freshman March will +favor us with a song," announced the mask. + +"I can't sing a word," answered Joel. + +"You must. Hullabalooloo decrees it." + +"Then Hullabalooloo can come and make me," retorted Joel stubbornly. + +"What," asked the mask in a deep, grewsome voice, "what is the penalty +for disobedience?" + +"Tossed in the blanket," answered the other four in unison. + +"You hear, Freshman March?" asked the mask. "Choose." + +"I'll sing, I guess," answered Joel, with a grin. But West jumped up. + +"Don't you do it, Joel! They can't make you sing! And they can't make me +sing; and the first one that comes in reach will get knocked down!" + +"Oh, well, I don't mind singing," answered Joel. "That is, I don't mind +trying. If they can stand it, I can. What shall I sing?" + +"What do you know?" + +"I only know one song. I'll sing that, but on one condition." + +"Name it?" answered the mask. + +"That you'll join in and sing the chorus." + +There was a moment of hesitation; then the masks nodded, and Joel +mounted to a chair and with a comical grimace of despair at West, who +sat scowling on the couch, he began: + + "There is a flag of crimson hue, + The fairest flag that flieth, + Whose folds wave over hearts full true, + As nobody denieth. + Here's to the School, the School so dear; + Here's to the soil it's built on! + Here's to the heart, or far or near, + That loves the Flag of Hillton.'" + +Joel was not much of a singer, but his voice was good and he sang as +though he meant it. Outfield sat unresponsive until the verse was nearly +done; then he moved restlessly and waited for the chorus, and when it +came joined in with the rest; and the strains of Hilltonians rang +triumphantly through the building. + + "Hilltonians, Hilltonians, your crimson banner fling + Unto the breeze, and 'neath its folds your anthem loudly sing! + Hilltonians, Hilltonians, our loyalty we'll prove + Beneath the flag, the crimson flag, the bonny flag we love!" + +The Knights of the Sacred Order of Hullabalooloo signified their +approval and demanded the next verse. And Joel sang it. And when the +chorus came the maskers lost much of their dignity and waved their arms +about and shouted the refrain so loud that doors up and down the hall +opened and wondering voices shouted "Shut up!" or "More! M-o-r-e!" for +two minutes after. As the last word was reached Joel leaned quickly +forward toward an unsuspicious singer, and, snatching the mask from his +face, revealed the countenance of Louis Whipple. + +And then, amid much laughter, the other masks were slipped off, and the +remaining members of the Sacred Order of Hullabalooloo stood revealed as +Blair, Cartwright, Somers, and Cooke. + +And Outfield, joining in the laugh at his own expense, was seized by +Cooke and waltzed madly around the table, while the rest once more +raised the strains of Hilltonians: + + "Hilltonians, Hilltonians, your crimson banner fling + Unto the breeze, and 'neath its folds your anthem loudly sing! + Hilltonians, Hilltonians, we stand to do or die, + Beneath the flag, the crimson flag, that waves for victory!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +VISITORS FROM MARCHDALE. + +Despite Joel's dark forebodings, he was at last released from tackling +practice. And with that moment he began to take hope for better things. +Under the charge of Kent, one of the coaches and an old Harwell half, +Joel was instructed in catching punts till his arms ached and his eyes +watered, and in kicking until he seemed to be one-sided. Starting with +the ball he no longer dreaded, since he had mastered that science and +could now delight the coach by leaping from a stand as though shot from +the mouth of a cannon. + +Signals he had no trouble with. His memory was excellent, and he +possessed the faculty of rapid computation; though as yet his brain had +been but little taxed, since the practice code was still in use. At the +end of the third week both Varsity and scrub teams were at length +selected, and Joel, to his delight, found himself playing left-half on +the latter. Two match games a week was now the rule for the Varsity, and +Joel each Wednesday and Saturday might have been found seated under the +fence dividing the gridiron from the grand stand wrapped nearly from +sight, if the afternoon was chilly, in a great gray blanket, and +watching the play with all the excited ardor of the veriest schoolboy on +the stand behind. + +One Saturday Prince, the Varsity left-half, twisted his ankle, and Joel +was taken on in his place. They were playing Amherst, and Joel has ever +since held that college in high esteem, for that it was against its +Eleven he made his _début_ into Harwell football life. And how he +played! The captain smiled as he watched him prance down the field after +a punt, never content to be there in time, but always striving to get +there first, and not seldom succeeding. Once he succeeded too well. + +It was in the second half. Blair--it was his first year on the team--was +playing full-back. On a first down he punted the ball a long and rather +low kick into Amherst's territory. Joel bowled over an Amherst end who +was foolish enough to get in the way and started down the field like an +Indian warrior on the war path. The Harwell ends were a little in +advance but off to the sides, and Joel sprinted hard and easily passed +them both. Kingdon, the right half, gave him a good run, but he too was +passed, and Joel reached the Amherst full-back just as that gentleman +turned for the ball, which had passed unexpectedly over his head. The +goal line was but thirty yards distant. Joel saw only the full-back, the +ball, and the goal line. He forgot everything else. A small cyclone +struck the full, and when he picked himself up it was to see a +crimson-legged player depositing the pigskin back of goal and to hear a +roar of laughter from the seats! + +Then he yelled "Off side!" at the top of his lungs and tore down on +Joel, and, much to that young gentleman's surprise, strove to wrest the +ball from him. It was quite uncalled for, and Joel naturally resented it +to the extent of pushing violently, palms open, against the Amherst +man's jacket, with the result that the Amherst gentleman sat down +backward forcibly upon the turf at some distance. And again the stands +laughed. But Joel gravely lifted the ball and walked back to the +thirty-yard line with it. The center took it with a grin, and, as the +five yards of penalty for off side was paced, Joel was rewarded for his +play with the muttered query from the captain: + +"What were you doing, you idiot?" + +But too great zeal is far more excusable than too small, and Joel was +quickly forgiven, and all the more readily, perhaps, since Amherst was +held for downs, and the ball went over on the second next play. But Joel +called himself a great many unpleasant names during the rest of the +game, and for a long while after could not think of his first touch-down +without feeling his cheeks redden. Nevertheless, his manner of getting +down the field under kicks undoubtedly impressed the coaches favorably, +for when the scrub was further pruned to allow it to go to training +table Joel was retained. + +One bright October day Joel and Outfield went into town to meet the +former's parents at the station; for Mr. and Mrs. March had long before +made up their minds to the visit, and the two boys had been looking +forward to it for some time. It was worth going a long way to see the +pleasure with which the old farmer and his wife greeted the great +long-legged youth who towered so far above them there on the station +platform. Joel kissed his mother fondly, patted his father patronizingly +but affectionately on the back, and asked fifty questions in as many +minutes. And all his mother could do was to gaze at him in reverent +admiration and sigh, over and over: + +"Land sakes, Joel March, how you do grow!" + +It must not be thought that West was neglected. Farmer March, in +especial, showed the greatest pleasure at meeting him again, and shook +hands with him four times before the street was reached and the car that +was to carry them to the college town gained. The boys conducted the +visitors to their room, and made lunch for them on a gas stove, Outfield +drawing generously on his private larder, situated under the foot of his +bed. Then the four hunted up a pleasant room in one of the student +boarding houses, and afterward showed the old people through +the college. + +There was a good deal to see and many questions to answer, since Joel's +father was not a man to leave an object of interest until he had learned +all there was to be told about it. The elms in the yard were fast losing +their yellow leaves, but the grass yet retained much of its verdancy, +and as for the sky, it was as sweetly blue as on the fairest day in +spring. Up one side of the yard and down the other went the sightseers, +poking into dark hallways, reading tablets and inscriptions, the latter +translated by West into the most startling English, pausing before the +bulletins to have the numerous announcements of society and club +meetings explained, drinking from the old pump in the corner, and so +completing the circuit and storming the gymnasium, where at last Joel's +powers of reply were exhausted and Outfield promptly sprang into the +breech, explaining gravely that the mattresses on the floor were used by +Doctor Major, the director of the gymnasium, who invariably took a +cat-nap during the afternoon, that the suspended rings were used to +elevate sophomores while corporeal punishment was administered by +freshmen, and that the queer little weights in the boxes around the +walls were reserve paper weights. + +Then the line of march was taken up toward Sailors' Field, where they +arrived just in time to see the beginning of the practice game between +the Varsity and the scrub. Joel had been excused from attendance that +day, and so he took his seat beside the others on the grand stand and +strove to elucidate the philosophy of football. + +"You see the scrubs have the ball. They must get it past the Varsity +down to the end of the field, where they can either put it down over the +line or kick it over that cross-piece there. That's center, that fellow +that's arranging the ball. He kicks off. There it goes, and a good kick, +too. Sometimes the center-rush isn't a good kicker; then some one else +kicks off. Blair has the ball. Look, see him dodge with it. He gained +ten yards that time." + +"Oh!" It was Joel's mother who exclaimed. "Why, Joel, that other man +threw him down." + +"That's part of the game, mother. He did that to keep Blair from getting +the ball any nearer the scrub's goal. He isn't hurt, you see." + +"And do you mean that they do that all the time?" + +"Pretty often." + +"And do _you_ get thrown around that way, Joel?" + +"Sometimes, mother; when I'm lucky enough to get the ball." + +"Well, I never." + +"Football's not a bad game, Mr. March," West was saying. "But it doesn't +come up to golf, you know. It's too rough." + +"It does look a little rough," answered Mr. March. "Do they often get +hurt? Seems as though when a boy had another fellow on his head, and +another on his stomach, and another on his feet, and the whole lot of +them banging away at once, seems like that boy would be a little +uncomfortable." + +West laughed. + +"Sometimes a fellow has his ankle sprained or a knee twisted, or a +shoulder-bone bust, or something like that. But it isn't often anything +worse occurs." + +"Well, I suppose it's all right then. Only when I was a boy we never +went round trying to get our ankles sprained or our collar-bones broke; +you young fellows are tougher than we were, I guess." + +"I shouldn't wonder, sir. I believe Joel has been feeling pretty bad for +a long time because he's got nothing worse than a broken finger." + +"What? Broke his finger, did he? Eh? He didn't write anything about it; +what's he mean, getting broken to pieces and not telling his parents +about it?" West glanced apprehensively at Joel, but the latter had +missed the conversation, being busy following the progress of Barton, of +the scrub, who was doing a long run along the side line. + +"Well, it wasn't much of a break, sir. It's all right now, and I think +he thought you'd be worried, you know. I'm sure if it had been anything +important he would have written at once." + +"Humph," grunted Joel's father. "If he's going to break himself in +pieces he'd better stop football. I won't have him taking risks. I'll +tell him so!" + +The fifteen-minute half had come to an end, and the players were either +resting on the ground or going through some pass or start under the +tuition of a coach. Suddenly Joel looked down to see Briscom, the scrub +captain, climbing the seats. He ducked his bare head to the others and +sank into the seat at Joel's side. + +"Look here, March, can you help us out the next half? They've taken +Webster on the Varsity, and"--he lowered his voice to a confidential +roar--"we want to make a good showing to-day." + +"Of course," answered Joel, "I'll come at once. Can I get some togs from +some fellow?" + +"Yes. I'll ask Whitman to find some. I'm sorry to take you away from +your folks, but it's only fifteen minutes, you know." + +So when the whistle blew Joel was at left half-back on the scrub, +attired in borrowed plumage that came far from fitting him. And Mrs. +March was in a tremor of dismay lest some one should throw Joel down as +she had seen Blair thrown. Mr. March had not quite recovered from his +resentment over his son's failure to apprise him of the broken finger, +which, after all, was only broken in West's imagination, and viewed his +advent on the field with disfavor. + +Outfield began to wonder if his pleasant fiction regarding Joel's finger +was to lead to unpleasant results, when Mr. March relieved his mind +somewhat by suddenly taking interest in the career of his son, who was +trying to make an end run inside Dutton with half the scrub hauling, +pushing, pulling, shoving him along. + +"Er--isn't that likely to be bad for that finger of his?" + +"Oh, no, sir," answered West. "He looks out for his finger all right +enough. There, he made the distance. Bully work. Good old Joel." + +"Did he do well then, Mr. West?" asked Joel's mother. "Of course he +did, mother," answered Mr. March disdainfully. "Didn't you see him +lugging all those fellows along with him? How much does that +count, West?" + +"Well, that doesn't score anything, but it helps. The scrub has to pass +that line down there before it can score. What they're trying to do now +is to get down there, and Joel's helping. You watch him now. I think +they're going to give him the ball again for another try around end." +West was right in his surmise. Kicks were barred to-day save as a last +resort, and the game was favoring the scrub as a consequence. The ball +was passed to the right half-back; Joel darted forward like an arrow, +took the ball from right, made a quick swerve as he neared the end of +the line, and ran outside of the Varsity right end, Captain Dutton, who +had been playing pretty well in, in the expectation of another try +through tackle-end hole. As Joel got safely by it is more than likely +that he found added satisfaction in the feat as he recalled that remark +of Dutton's the week before: "What were you doing, you idiot?" + +Joel got safely by Dutton, and fooled the sprightly Prince, but very +nearly ran into the arms of Kingdon, who missed his tackle by a bare six +inches. Then the race began. Joel's path lay straight down by the side +line. The field followed him at a distance, and the most he could hope +for was a touch-down near the corner of the field, which would require +a punt-out. + +"Ain't that Joel?" cried Mr. March, forgetting his grammar and his +dignity at one and the same moment, and jumping excitedly to his feet. +"Ain't that Joel there running? Hey? They can't catch him. I'll lay Joel +to outrun the whole blame pack of 'em. Every day, sir. Hey? What?" + +"I think he's all right, sir, for a touch-down," answered West gayly. +"Hello, there's Blair leaving the bunch. Tally-Ho!" + +"I don't care if it's a steam-engine," shouted Mr. March, "he can't--I +don't know but as he's gaining a little, that fellow. Eh?" + +"Looks like it," answered West, while Mrs. March, with her hand on her +husband's arm, begged him to sit down and "stop acting so silly." + +"Geewhillikins!" cried Mr. March, "Joel's caught! No, he's +not--yet--Eh?--Too bad, too bad. Run, Joel, he's got ye!" Suddenly Mr. +March, who had almost subsided on his seat, jumped again to his feet. + +"Here! Stop that, you fellow! Hi!" He turned angrily to Outfield, his +eyes blazing. "What'd he knock him down for? Eh? What's he sitting on my +boy for? Is that fair? Eh?" + +West and Mrs. March calmed him down and explained that tackling was +quite within the law, and that he only sat on him to prevent him from +going on again; for Blair had cut short Joel's triumph fifteen yards +from the goal line, and the spectators of the soul-stirring dash down +the field were slowly settling again in their seats. Mr. March was +presently relieved to see Joel arise, shake himself like a dog coming +out of water, and trot back to his position. + +Another five minutes, during which the scrub tried desperately to force +the ball over the Varsity's goal line, but without success, and the +match was over, and Briscom was happy; for the Varsity had scored but +once, and that on a fumble by the scrub quarter-back. Joel trotted off +with the teams for a shower and a rub-down, and West conducted his +parents back to the gate, where they awaited him. On the way Mr. March +confided to West that "football wasn't what he'd call a parlor game, but +on the whole it appeared to be rather interesting." + +In the evening the quartet went into town to the theater and Joel's +mother cried happily over the homely pathos of The Old Homestead, and +Outfield laughed uproariously upon the slightest provocation, and every +one was extremely happy. And afterward they "electriced" back to +college, as West put it, and the two boys stayed awake very, very late, +laughing and giggling over the humors of the play and Joel's +broken finger. + +Mr. and Mrs. March left the next day at noon, and Joel accompanied them +to the depot, West having a golf engagement which he could not break. +And when good-by had been said, and the long train had disappeared from +sight, Joel returned to college on foot, over the long bridge spanning +the river, busy with craft, past the factories noisy with the buzz of +wheels and the clang of iron, and on along the far-stretching avenue +until the tower of the dining hall loomed above the tops of the autumn +branches, entering the yard just as the two o'clock bell was ringing. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +A VARSITY SUB. + +Give a boy the name of being a hero and it will stick. Joel was still +pointed out by admiring Hillton graduates to their friends at Harwell as +"March, the fellow who kicked the winning goal-from-field in the St. +Eustace game two years ago." And while Joel had performed of late no +doughty deed to sustain his reputation for valor, the freshman class +accepted him in all faith as a sort of class hero, off duty for the +moment, perchance, but ever ready to shed glory upon the class by some +soul-stirring act. + +Consequently when it was told through college that Joel March had been +taken on to the Varsity Eleven as substitute left half-back no one was +surprised, unless it was Joel himself. The freshman class wagged its +head knowingly and said: "I told you they couldn't get on without +March," and held its head higher for that one of its members was a +Varsity player. It is not a frequent thing to find a freshman on the +Varsity team, even as substitute, and Joel's fame grew apace and many +congratulations were extended to him, in classroom and out. Blair was +one of the first to climb the stairs of Mayer and express pleasure at +the event. He found Joel seated in the window, propped up with half a +dozen crimson pillows, attempting to sketch the view across the yard to +send home to his sister. West was splicing a golf shaft and whistling +blithely over the task. + +"Hello, Sophy," cried that youth, "have you come to initiate us into the +Sacred Order of Hullabalooloo? Dump those books off the chair and be +seated. March is such a beastly untidy chap," he sighed; "he _will_ +leave his books around that way despite all I can say!" + +"These books, Out," replied Blair, "bear the name of one West on their +title pages, and, in fact, on a good many other pages, too. What say +you?" A look of intense surprise overspread the face of Outfield. + +"How passing strange," he muttered. "And is there a chemistry note-book +among them?" + +"I think so. Here is one that contains mention of C2H6O, H2SO4, and +other mystic emblems which appear very tiresome; it also contains +several pages filled with diagrams of the yard and plans of Pompeii +before the devastation." + +"Yes," answered West, "that's my chem. note-book. It's been missing ever +since Tuesday. But those are not diagrams of the yard, my sophomoric +friend; they're plans of the golf course." + +"Well, just as you say. Catch! Say, March, I've just heard that you've +made the Varsity. I'm most splendidly glad, my young friend. You make +three Hillton fellows on the team. There's Selkirk, and you, and yours +tenderly; and we'll show them what's what when Yates faces us. And I'll +tell you a little fact that may interest you. Prince won't last until +the Yates game, my lad. He's going silly in his ankle. But don't say I +told you, for of course it's a dead secret. And if he gives out you'll +get the posish. And then if you can make another one of those +touch-downs in the Yates game--" + +"Shut up, please, Blair!" groaned Joel. + +"Nonsense, you're all right. I heard Button saying last week that +nothing short of a ten-story house could have stopped you that day." + +"He must think me an awful fool," responded Joel. "The idea of not +remembering that I was off-side!" + +"Pshaw; why, the first time I played against Eustace at Hillton I +tackled the referee in mistake for the man with the ball! And threw him, +too! And sat on his head!" West grinned. + +"And they _did_ say, Blair, that you were feeling aggrieved against that +referee because he had called you down for holding. And I _have_ heard +that you weren't such a fool as you looked." + +"Nothing in it, my boy," answered Wesley Blair airily. "Mere calumny. Am +I one to entertain feelings of anger and resentment against my fellow +men? Verily, very much not. But he put me off, did that referee chap. +He was incapable of accepting the joke. What is more depressing than a +fellow who can't see a joke, March?" + +"Two fellows who can't see--et cetera," answered Joel promptly. + +"Wrong, very wrong. I don't know what the answer is, but I'm quite +certain it isn't that. Well, I must be going. _I_ have studies. _I_ +don't waste the golden moments in idleness. I grind, my young and +thoughtless friends, I grind. Well, I only came up to congratulate you, +Mr. March, of Maine. I have done so. I now depart. Farewell! Never allow +the mere fact of being off-side interfere with--" + +Blair slammed the door just in front of a whizzing golf ball and +clattered downstairs. Presently he appeared on the walk beneath the +window and wiggled his fingers derisively with the thumb against a +prominent feature of his face. But at the first squeak of the window +being pushed up he disappeared around the corner. + +Joel's days were now become very busy ones. Every morning he was +awakened at seven, and at eight was required to be on hand at the +training table for breakfast. The quarters were at Old's, a boarding +house opposite the college yard, and here in a big, sunny front room the +two long tables were laid with numerous great dishes of oatmeal or +hominy, platters of smoking steak, chops or crisp bacon, plates of +toast, while potatoes, usually baked, flanked the meat. The beverage was +always milk, and tall pitchers of it were constantly filled and emptied +during this as well as the other meals. And then there were eggs--eggs +hard boiled, eggs soft boiled, eggs medium, eggs poached--until, at the +end of the season, the mere mention of eggs caused Joel's stomach to +writhe in disgust. + +During breakfast disabilities were inquired after, men who were known to +have nerves were questioned as to their night's rest, and orders for the +day were given out. This man was instructed to see the doctor, another +to interview the trainer, a third to report to the head coach. The meal +over, save for a half hour of practice for the backs behind the +gymnasium the men were free to give all their energies to lessons, and +so hurried away to recitation hall or room. + +At one o'clock the team assembled again for lunch, with books in hand, +and at break-neck speed devoured the somewhat elaborate repast, each man +rushing in, eating, and rushing out, with no attempt at sociability or +heed to the laws of digestion. + +Afternoon practice was at four o'clock. Individual practice was followed +by team practice against an imaginary foe, and this in turn gave place +to a line-up against the second eleven. Two stiff twenty-minute halves +were played. Then again individuals were seized on by captain and +coaches and put through paces to remedy some fault or other. And then +the last player trots off the field, and the coaches, conversing +earnestly among themselves, follow, and the day's work is done. There +are still the bath and the rub-down and the weighing; but these are +gone through with leisurely while the day's work is discussed and the +coaches, circulating among the fellows, inflict an epilogue of criticism +and instruction. + +There remained usually the better part of an hour before dinner, and +this period Joel spent in his room, where with the lamp throwing its +glow over his shoulder, he strove to take his mind from the subject of +tackling and starting, of punting and passing, and fix it upon his +studies for the morrow. + +For life was far from being all play that fall--if hard practice and +strict training can be called play!--and Joel found it necessary to +occupy every moment not taken up by eating, sleeping, and practicing on +the gridiron with hard study. It can scarcely be truthfully asserted +that Joel's lessons suffered by reason of his adherence to athletics, +though a lecture now and then was slighted that he might use the time in +pursuing some study that lack of leisure had necessitated his +neglecting. + +But a clear head, a good digestion, and racing blood render studying a +pleasure rather than a task, and Joel found that, while giving less time +than before to lessons, he learned them fully as well. One thing is +certain: his standing in class did not suffer, even when the coaches +were more than usually severe. Joel's experience that fall, and many a +time later, led him to conclude that the amount of outdoor athletics +indulged in and the capability for study are in direct ratio. + +West, too, was a most studious young gentleman that term, and began to +pride himself on his recently discovered ability to learn. To be sure, +golf was a hard taskmaster, but with commendable self-denial he did not +allow it to interfere with his progress in class. Both he and Joel had +earned the name of being studious ere the end of the fall term, and +neither of them resented it. + +Unlike the preceding meal, dinner at the training table was a sociable +and cheerful affair, when every man at the board tried his best to be +entertaining, and when "shop," either study or football, was usually +tabooed. The menu was elaborate. There were soup, two or three kinds of +meat, a half dozen vegetables, sauces, the ever-present toast, pudding +or cream, and plenty of fruit; and for drinkables, why, there was the +milk, and sometimes light ale in lesser quantities. At one end of the +table--whether head or foot is yet undecided--sat the captain, at the +other end the head coach. Other coaches were present as well, and the +trainer sat at the captain's left. + +There was always lots of noise, for weighty things were seldom touched +upon in the conversation, and jokes were given and taken in good part. +When all other means of amusement failed there were still the potatoes +to throw; and a butter chip, well laden, can be tossed upward in such a +manner that it will remain stuck more or less securely to the ceiling. +This is a trick that comes only with long practice, but any one may try +it; and the ceiling above the training table that year was always well +studded with suspended disks of crockery. Bread fights--so named because +the ammunition is more likely to be potatoes--were extremely popular, +and the dinner often came to an end with a pitched battle, in which +coats were decorated from collar to hem with particles of that clinging +vegetable. + +His evenings usually belonged to Joel to spend as he wished, though not +unfrequently a blackboard talk by the head coach or a lecture by some +visiting authority curtailed them considerably. He had always to be in +bed by ten o'clock. + +But sleep sometimes, especially after a day of hard practice, did not +readily come, and he often laid awake until midnight had sounded out on +the deep-toned bell in the old church tower thinking over the events of +the day, and wondering what fate, in the person of the head coach, held +in view for him. And one night he awoke to find Outfield shaking him +violently by the shoulder. + +"Wh-what's the row?" he asked sleepily. + +"You," answered Outfield. "You've been yelling '4, 9; 5, 7; 8, 6' for +half an hour. What's the matter with you, anyhow?" + +"The signals," muttered Joel, turning sleepily over, "that's a +run around left end by left half-back. And don't forget to start +when the ball's snapped. And jump high if you're blocked. +And--don't--forget--to--" Snore--snore! "Well," muttered West as he +stumbled against an armchair and climbed into bed, "of all +crazy games--" + +But West was not in training and so possessed the faculty of going to +sleep when his head struck the pillow. As a consequence the rest of his +remark was never heard. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +AN OLD FRIEND. + +"MARCH! Joel March!" + +Joel was striding along under the shadow of the chapel on his way from a +recitation to Mayer and his room. The familiar tones came from the +direction of the library, and turning he saw Stephen Remsen trotting +toward him with no regard for the grass. Joel hurdled the knee-high wire +barrier and strode to meet him. The two shook hands warmly, almost +affectionately, in the manner of those who are glad to meet. + +"March, I'm delighted to see you again! I was just going to look you up. +Which way were you going?" + +"Up to the room. Can't you come up for a while? When'd you arrive? Are +you going to stay now?" + +"Third down!" laughed Remsen. "No gain! What a fellow you are for +questions, March! I got in this morning, and I'm going to stay until +after the Yates game. They telegraphed me to come and coach the tackles. +Instead of going to your room let's go to mine. I've taken a suite of +one room and a closet at Dixon's on the avenue. I haven't unpacked my +toothbrush yet. Come over with me and take lunch, and we'll talk it +all over." + +So Joel stuck his books under his arm and the two crossed the yard, +traversing the quadrangle in front of University and debouching on to +the avenue near where the tall shaft of the Soldiers' Monument gleams in +the sunlight. But they did not wait until Remsen's room was gained to +"talk it all over." Joel had lots to tell about the Hillton fellows whom +he had not lost sight of: of how Clausen was captain of the freshman +Eleven and was displaying a wonderful faculty for generalship; how West +was still golfing and had at last met foemen worthy of his steel; how +Dicky Sproule was in college taking a special course, and struggling +along under popular dislike; how Whipple and Cooke were rooming together +in Peck, the former playing on the sophomore class team and going in for +rowing, and the latter still the same idle, good-natured ignoramus, and +liked by every fellow who knew him; how Digbee was grinding in Lanter +with Somers; how Cartwright had joined the Glee Club; and how Christie +had left college and gone into business with his father. + +"And Cloud?" asked Remsen. "Have you seen him?" + +"Yes, once or twice. I've heard that he was very well liked when he left +St. Eustace last year. I dare say he has turned over a new leaf since +his father died." + +"Indeed? I hadn't heard of that." + +"West heard it. He died last spring, and left Cloud pretty near +penniless, they say. I have an idea that he has taken a brace and is +studying more than he used to." + +"The chap has plenty of good qualities, I suppose. We all have our bad +ones, you know. Perhaps it only needed some misfortune to wake up the +lad's better nature. They say virtue thrives best on homely fare, and, +like lots of other proverbs, I guess it's sometimes true." + +Then Remsen told of his visit to Hillton a few weeks previous. The +Eleven this year was in pretty good shape, he thought; Greene, an upper +middle man, was captain; they expected to have an easy time with St. +Eustace, who was popularly supposed to be in a bad way for veteran +players. That same Greene was winning the golf tournament when he was +there, Remsen continued, and the golf club was in better shape than ever +before, thanks to the hard work of West, Whipple, Blair, and a few +others in building it up. + +The two friends reached the house, and Remsen led the way into his room, +and set about unpacking his things. Joel took up a position on the bed +and gave excellent advice as to the disposal of everything from a pair +of stockings to a typewriter. + +"It's a strange fact," said Remsen as he thrust a suit of pajamas under +the pillow, "that Outfield West is missed at Hillton more than any +fellow who has graduated from there for several years past. Perhaps I +don't mean exactly strange, either, for of course he's a fellow that +every one naturally likes. What I do mean is that one would naturally +suppose fellows like Blair or Whipple would leave the most regrets +behind them, for Blair was generally conceded to be the most popular +fellow in school the last two years of his stay, and Whipple was surely +running him a close second. And certainly their memories are still +green. But everywhere I went it was: 'Have you heard from Outfield +West?' 'How's West getting on at college?' And strange to say, such +inquiries were not confined to the fellows alone. Professor Wheeler +asked after West particularly, and so did Briggs, and several others of +the faculty; and Mrs. Cowles as well. + +"But you are still the hero there, March. The classic history of Hillton +still recounts the prowess of one Joel the First, who kicked a goal from +field and defeated thereby the hosts of St. Eustace. And Professor +Durkee shakes his head and says he will never have another so attentive +and appreciative member of his class. And now tell me, how are you +getting on with Dutton?" + +So Joel recited his football adventures in full, not omitting the +ludicrous touch-down, which received laughing applause from his +listener, and recounting his promotion to the position of Varsity +substitute. + +"Yes, I saw in the paper last week that you had been placed on the sub +list of the Varsity. I hope you'll have a chance to play against Yates, +although I don't wish Prince any harm. He's a good fellow and a hard +worker. Hello, it's one-fifteen. Let's get some lunch." + +A half hour later they parted, Joel hurrying off to recitation and +Remsen remaining behind to keep an appointment with a friend. After this +they met almost every day, and Remsen was a frequent caller at Joel's +room, where he with Joel and Outfield held long, cosy chats about every +subject from enameling golf balls to the Philosophy of Kant and the +Original Protoplasm. + +Meanwhile the season hurried along. Harwell met and defeated the usual +string of minor opponents by varying scores, and ran up against the red +and blue of Keystone College with disastrous results. But one important +contest intervened between the present time and the game with Yates, and +the hardest sort of hard work went on daily inside the inclosed field. A +small army of graduates had returned to coach the different players, and +the daily papers were filled, according to their wont, with columns of +sensational speculation and misinformation regarding the merits of the +team and the work they were performing. Out of the mass of clashing +"facts" contained in the daily journals but one thing was absolutely +apparent: to wit, the work of the Harwell Eleven was known only to the +men and the coaches, and neither would tell about it. + +At last, when chill November had been for a few days in the land, the +game with the red and white clad warriors from Ithaca took place on a +wet and muddy field, and Joel played the game through from start to +finish, Prince being engaged in nursing his treacherous ankle, which had +developed alarming symptoms with the advent of wet weather. The game +resulted in a score of twenty-four to five, the Ithacans scoring a neat, +but inexcusable, goal from field in the first half. Joel played like a +Trojan, and went around the left end of the opposing line time and again +for good gains, until the mere placing of the ball in his hands was +accepted by the spectators as equal to an accomplished gain. + +Wesley Blair made a dashing charge through a crowded field for twelve +yards and scored a touch-down that brought the onlookers to their feet +cheering. Dutton, the captain, played a steady brilliant interfering +game, and Kingdon, at right half-back, plunged through the guard-tackle +holes time and again with the ball hugged to his stomach, and kept his +feet in a manner truly marvelous until the last inch had been gained. + +But critics nevertheless said unkind things of the team work as they +wended their way back over the sodden turf, and shook their heads +dubiously over the field-goal scored by the opponents. There would be a +general shaking up on the morrow, they predicted, and we should see what +we should see. And the coaches, too, although they dissembled their +feelings under cheerful countenances, found much to condemn, and the +operations of bathing, dressing, and weighing that afternoon were less +enjoyable to the breathless, tattered men. + +The next day the team "went into executive session," as Joel called it, +and the predicted shake-up took place. Murdoch, the left guard, was +deemed too slight for the place, and was sent to the side line, from +where he presently crawled to a seat on the great empty stand, and +hiding his blanketed head wept like a child. And there were other +changes made. Joel kept his place at left half, pending the bettering of +Prince's ankle, and Blair was secure at full. But when the practice game +began, many of the old forms were either missing or to be seen in the +second Eleven's line, and the coaches hovered over the field of battle +with dark, forbidding looks, and said mean things whenever the +opportunity presented itself, and were icily polite to each other, as +men will be when they know themselves to be in the right and every one +else in the wrong. And so practice that Thursday was an unpleasant +affair, and had the desired effect; for the men played the game for all +that was in them and attended strictly to the matter in hand, forgetting +for the time the intricacies of Latin compositions and the terrors of +coming examinations. When it was over Joel crawled off of the scale with +the emotions of a weary draught horse and took his way slowly toward +home. In the square he ran against Outfield, who, armed with a monstrous +bag of golf requisites, had just leaped off a car. + +"Hello, Joel," he cried. "What's happened? Another off-sider? Have you +broken that finger again? Honest Injun, what's up?" + +"Nothing, Out; I'm just kind of half dead. We had two thirty-minute +halves, with forty-'leven coaches yelling at us every second, and a +field like a turnip patch just before seeding. Oh, no, there's nothing +the matter; only if you know of any quiet corner where I can die in +peace, lead me there, Out. I won't keep you long; it will soon be over." + +"No, I don't, my flippant young friend, but I know something a heap +better." + +"Nothing can be better any more, Out. Still--well, what is it?" + +"A couple of hot lemonades and a pair of fat sandwiches at Noster's. +Come along." + +"You're not so bad, Out," said Joel as they hurried up the street. "You +have _moments_ of almost human intelligence!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +THE DEPARTURE. + +The backs and substitute backs, together with Story, the quarter, +Captain Dutton, and one or two assistant coaches, including Stephen +Remsen, were assembled in Bancroft 6. The head coach was also present, +and with a long pointer in one hand and a piece of chalk in the other +was going through a sequence for the benefit of the backs, who had been +called a half hour ahead of the rest of the Eleven. The time was a half +hour after dinner. + +On the blackboard strange squares and lines and circles confronted the +men in the seats. The head coach placed the tip of the pointer on a +diagram marked "No. 2. Criss-Cross." + +"This is the second of the sequence, and is an ordinary criss-cross from +left half-back to right half-back. If you don't understand it readily, +say so. I want you to ask all the questions you can think of. The halves +take positions, as in the preceding play, back of the line behind the +tackle-guard holes. The ball goes to left half, who runs just back of +quarter. Right half starts a moment after the ball is put in play, also +going back of quarter and outside of left half and receiving the ball +at a hand pass from the latter, and continuing on through the hole +between left end and tackle. Right end starts simultaneously with left +half, taking the course indicated, in front of quarter and close to the +line, and interfering through the line for the runner." + +[Illustration: 2nd PLAY] + +"Left end blocks opposing end outward. Quarter clears the hole out for +the runner. Full-back does not start until the pass from quarter to left +half is made. He must then time himself so as to protect the second +pass. In case of a fumble the ball is his to do the best he can with +through the end-tackle hole. If the pass is safe he follows left half +through, blocking opposing left end long enough to keep him out of +the play. + +"You will go through this play to-morrow and you will get your slips +to-morrow evening here. Now is there anything not clear to you?" + +Apparently there was a great deal, for the questions came fast and +furious, the coaches all taking a hand in the discussion, and the +diagram being explained all over again very patiently by the head. Then +another diagram was tackled. + +[Illustration: 3rd PLAY] + +"The third of this sequence is from an ordinary formation," began the +head coach. "It is intended to give the idea of a kick, or, failing +that, of a run around left end. It will very probably be used as a +separate play in the last few minutes of a half, especially where the +line-up is near the side line, right being the short side of the field. +You will be given the signal calling this as a separate play +to-morrow evening. + +"Full-back stands as for a kick, and when the signal is given moves in a +step or two toward quarter as unnoticeably as possible; position 2 in +the diagram. He must be careful to come to a full stop before the ball +is snapped back, and should time himself so that he will not have to +stay there more than a second. The instant the ball is snapped full-back +runs forward to the position indicated here by 3, and receives the ball +on a short pass from quarter. Left half starts at the same instant, and +receives the ball from full as he passes just behind him, continuing on +and around the line outside of right end. It is right half's play to +make the diversion by starting with the ball and going through the line +between left tackle and guard; he is expected to get through and into +the play on the other side. Left end starts when the ball is snapped, +and passing across back of the forwards clears out the hole for the +runner. Quarter interferes, assisted by full-back, and should at all +costs down opposing half. Right end helps right tackle throw in opposing +end. Much of the success of this play depends on the second pass, from +full-back to left half, and it must be practiced until there is no +possibility of failure. Questions, fellows." + +After the discussion of the last play a half hour's talk on +interference was given to the rest of the Eleven and substitutes, who +had arrived meanwhile. Remsen and Joel left Bancroft together and +crossed the yard toward the latter's room. The sky was bright with +myriads of stars and the buildings seemed magnified by the wan radiance +to giant castles. Under the shadow of University Remsen paused to light +his pipe, and, without considering, the two found themselves a moment +later seated on the steps. + +From the avenue the clang-clang of car gongs sounded sharp and clear, +and red and white and purple lights flitted like strange will-o'-wisps +through the half light, and disappeared into the darkness beyond the +common. The lights in the stores beamed dimly. A green shade in Pray's +threw a sickly shaft athwart the pavement. But even as they looked a +tall figure, weariness emanating from every movement, stepped between +window and light, book in hand, and drew close the blinds. + +"Poor devil!" sighed Remsen. "Three hours more of work, I dare say, +before he stumbles, half blind, into bed. And all for what, Joel? That +or--that?" He pointed with his pipe-stem to where Jupiter shone with +steady radiance high in the blue-black depths; then indicated a faint +yellow glow that flared for an instant in the darkness across the yard +where a passer had paused to light his pipe. + +"We can't all be Jupiters, Remsen," answered Joel calmly. "Some of us +have to be little sticks of wood with brimstone tips. But they're very +useful little things, matches. And, after all, does it matter as long +as we do what we have to do as well as we can? Old Jupiter up there is a +very fine chap undoubtedly, and if he shirked a minute or two something +unpleasant would probably occur; but he isn't performing his task any +better than the little match performed his. 'Scratch--pouf' and the +match's work's done. But it has lighted a fire. Can you do better, +Mr. Jupiter?" + +Remsen made no reply for a moment, but Joel knew that he was smiling +there beside him. A little throng of students passed by, humming softly +a song in time with their echoing footsteps, and glanced curiously at +the forms on the steps. Then Remsen struck a match on the stone. + +"'Scratch--pouf!'" he said musingly, relighting his pipe. In the act of +tossing the charred splinter away he stopped; then he laid it beside him +on the step. "Good little match," he muttered. Joel laughed softly. + +"March," asked Remsen presently, "have you changed your mind yet about +studying law?" + +"No; but sometimes I get discouraged when I think of what a time it will +take to arrive anywhere. And sometimes, too, I begin to think that a +fellow who can't talk more readily than I ought to go into the hardware +business or raise chickens for a living instead of trying to make a +lawyer out of himself." + +"It isn't altogether talk, March," answered Remsen, "that makes a good +lawyer. Brains count some. If you get where you can conduct a case to a +successful result you will never miss the 'gift o' the gab.' Talking's +the little end of the horn in my profession, despite tradition. + +"I asked for a reason, March," he went on. "What do you say to our +forming a partnership? When you get through the Law School you come to +me, if you wish, and tell me that you are ready to enter my office, and +I'll answer 'I'm very glad to have you, Mr. March.' Of course we could +arrange for a regular partnership a year or so later. Meanwhile the +usual arrangement would be made. It may be that you know of some very +much better office which you would prefer to go to. If you do, all +right. If you don't, come to me. What do you say?" + +"But--but what good would I do you?" Joel asked, puzzled at the offer. +"I'd like it very much, of course, but I can't see--" + +"I'll tell you, March. I have a good deal of faith in your future, my +boy. You have a great deal of a most valuable thing called application, +which I have not, worse luck. You are also sharp-witted and level-headed +to a remarkable degree. And some day, twenty or thirty years from now, +you'll likely be _hard_-headed, but I'll risk that. By the time you're +out of college I shall be wanting a younger man to take hold with me. +There will be plenty of them, but I shall want a good one. And that is +why I make this offer. It is entirely selfish, and you need not go +searching for any philanthropy in it. I'm only looking a bit ahead and +buttering my toast while it's hot, March. What do you say? Or, no, you +needn't say anything to-night. Think it over for a while, and let me +know later." + +"But I don't want to think it over," answered Joel eagerly. "I'm ready +to sign such a partnership agreement now. If you really believe that I +would--could be of use to you, I'd like it mightily. And I know all +about your 'selfishness,' and I'm very grateful to you for--for +buttering your toast." + +Later, when they arose and went on, Remsen consented to accompany Joel +to his room, bribed thereto with a promise of hot chocolate. They found +Outfield diligently poring over a Greek history. But he immediately +discarded it in favor of a new book on the Royal Game which lay in his +lap hidden under a note book. + +"You see," he explained, "old Pratt has taken a shine to me, and I +expected him to call this evening. And I thought at first that you were +he--or him--which is it? And of course I didn't want to disappoint the +old gentleman; he has such a fine opinion of me, you know." + +While Outfield boiled the water and laid bare the contents of the +larder, Joel told him of Remsen's offer. A box of biscuits went down +with a crash, and Outfield turned indignantly. + +"That's all very fine," he exclaimed. "But where do I come in? How about +Mr. West? Where does he get his show in this arrangement? You promised +that if I studied law, too, Joel, you'd go into partnership with _me_. +Now, didn't you?" + +"But it was all in fun," protested Joel, distressedly. "I didn't +suppose you meant it, you know." + +"Meant it!" answered Outfield indignantly. "Of course I meant it. Don't +you expect I appreciate level-headedness and sharp-wittedness and +applicationousness just as much as Remsen? Why, I had it all fixed. We +were to have an office fitted with cherry railings and revolving +bookcases near--near--" + +"A good links?" suggested Remsen smilingly. + +"Well, yes," admitted Outfield, "that wouldn't be a half bad idea. But +now you two have gone and spoiled it all." + +"Well, I tell you, West," suggested Remsen, "you come in with us and +supply the picturesque element of the business. You might look after the +golf cases, you know; injuries to bald-headed gentlemen by gutties; +trespassing by players; forfeiting of leases, and so forth. What do +you say?" + +"All right," answered Outfield cheerfully. "But it must be understood +that the afternoons belong to the links and not to the law." + +So Stephen Remsen and Joel March sealed their agreement by shaking +hands, and Outfield grinned approval. + +One afternoon a few days later Outfield pranced into the room just as +dusk was falling brandishing aloft a silver-plated mug, and uttering a +series of loud cheers for "Me." Joel, who had returned but a moment +before from a hard afternoon's practice, and was now studying in the +window seat by the waning light, looked languidly curious. + +"A trophy, Joel, a trophy from the links!" cried West. "Won by the great +Me by two holes from Jenkins, Jenkins the Previously Great, Jenkins the +Defeated and Devastated!" He tossed the mug into Joel's lap. + +"I'm very glad, Out," said the latter. "Won't it help you with the +team?" + +"It will, my discerning friend. It will send me to New York next month +to represent Harwell. And Lapham says I must go to Lakewood for the open +tournament. Oh, little Outie is some pumpkins, my lad! It was quite the +most wonderful young match to-day. Jenkins led all the way to the +fifteenth hole. Then he foozled like a schoolboy, and I holed out in one +and went on to the Cheese Box in two." + +"I'm awfully glad," repeated Joel, smiling up into the flushed and +triumphant face of his chum. "If you go to New York it will be after the +big game, and, if you like, I'll go with you and shout." Outfield West +executed a war-dance and whooped ecstatically. + +"Will you, Joel? Honest Injun? Cross your heart and hope to die? Then +shake hands, my lad; it's a bargain! Now, where's my chemistry?" + +The days flew by and the date of the Yates game rapidly approached. The +practice was secret every afternoon, and the coaches lost weight eluding +the newspaper reporters. Prince disappointed Joel by returning to the +Varsity with his ankle apparently as well as ever, although he was +generally "played easy," and Joel often took his place in the second +half of the practice games. + +And at last the Thursday preceding the big game arrived, and the team +and substitutes, together with the trainer and the manager and the head +coach and two canine mascots, assembled in the early morning in the +square and were hustled into coaches and driven into town to their +train. And half the college heroically arose phenomenally early and +stood in the first snow storm of the year and cheered and cheered for +the team individually and collectively, for the head coach and the +trainer, for the rubbers and the mascots, and, between times, for +the college. + +The players went to a little country town a few miles distant from the +seat of Yates University, and spent the afternoon in practicing signals +on the hotel grounds. The next day, Friday, was a day of rest, save for +running through a few formations and trick plays after lunch and taking +a long walk at dusk. The Yates Glee Club journeyed over in the evening +and gave an impromptu entertainment in the parlor, a courtesy well +appreciated by the Harwell team, whose nerves were now beginning to make +themselves felt. And the next morning the journey was continued and the +college town was reached at half past eleven. + +The men were welcomed at the station by a crowd of Harwell fellows who +had already arrived, and the Harwell band did its best until the team +was driven off to the hotel. There for the first time the men were +allowed to see the line-up for the game. It was a long list, containing +the names, ages, heights, and weights of thirty-six players and +substitutes, and was immediately the center of interest to all. + +"Thunder!" growled Joel ruefully, as he finished reading the list over +Blair's shoulder, "it's a thumpin' long ways down to _me!_" + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + +BEFORE THE BATTLE. + +"Harwell, Harwell, Harwell! Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, +Harwell!" + +The lobby grew empty on the instant, and outside on the steps and on the +sidewalk the crowd spread itself. The procession had just turned the +corner, the college band leading. + +"The freshmen won!" cried a voice on the edge of the throng, and the +news was passed along from man to man until it swept up the steps, +through the lobby and to the dining room upstairs where the football men +of the Varsity team were impatiently awaiting lunch. "A good omen," said +the head coach. + +Below in the street admonitory thumps upon the great drum, with its +college coat-of-arms on the head, were heard, and a moment later the +shouts of the exuberant freshmen and their allies were drowned in the +first strains of the college song. Off came the silk hats of the +frock-coated graduates and the plaided golf caps of the students, and +side by side there in the sun-swept street they lifted their voices in +the sweet, measured strains of the dear familiar hymn. And stout, +placid-faced men of fifty, with comfortable bank accounts and incipient +twinges of gout, felt the unaccustomed dimming of the sight that +presages tears, and boyish, carefree students, to whom the song was as +much an everyday affair as D marks and unpaid bills, felt strange +stirrings in their breasts, and with voices that stumbled strangely over +the top notes sang louder and louder. And upstairs in the dining room +many a throat grew hard and "lumpy" as the refrain came in at the +open windows. + +But, as the trainer muttered presently, it was only the freshmen who had +won, and the real battle of the day was yet to come. And soon the band +and the shouting parade wheeled away from beneath the windows and swung +off up the street to make known far and wide the greatness of Harwell, +her freshmen, and the grandeur of their victory over the youngsters of +Yates. And, as the last cheer floated up from the procession as it +disappeared around a far corner, lunch was served, and player and coach, +trainer and rubber, substitute and mascot, drew up to the last meal +before--what? Victory or defeat? + +It was not a merry repast, that lunch before the fray. Some men could +not bring themselves to eat at all until the coaches commanded with dire +threats. Others, as though nothing out of the ordinary was about to take +place, ate heartily, hungrily, of everything set before them. At the far +end of the room Joel March played with his steak and tried to delude +himself into thinking he was eating. He felt rather upset, and weak in +the joints, and as for the lad's stomach it had revolted at sight of the +very first egg. But luckily the last meal before a game has little +effect one way or the other upon the partaker, since he is already keyed +up, mentally and physically, to a certain pitch, and nothing short of +cold poison can alter it. + +In the streets below, for blocks in all directions, the crowds surged up +and down, and shouts for Harwell and yells for Yates arose like +challenges in the afternoon air. Friends met who had not done so for +years, enemies accorded enemies bows of recognition ere they remembered +their enmity. The deep blue and the deeper crimson passed and +counterpassed, brushed and fluttered side by side, and lighted up the +little college city till it looked like a garden of roses and violets. + +And everywhere, over all, was the tensity that ever reigns before a +battle. + +The voices of the ticket speculator and of the merchant of "Offish'l +Score Cards" were heard upon every side. The street cars poked their +blunt noses through the crowd which closed in again behind them like +water about the stern of a ship. Violets blossomed or crimson +chrysanthemums bloomed upon every coat and wrap, or hung pendant from +the handle of cane and umbrella. The flags of Harwell and Yates, the +white H and white Y, were everywhere. Shop windows were partisan to the +blue, but held dashes of crimson as a sop to the demands of hospitality +and welcome. + +At one o'clock the exodus from town began. Along the road that leads to +the football field hurried the sellers of rush cushions and badges, of +score cards and pencils, of blue and crimson flags and cheap canes, of +peanuts and sandwiches, of soda water and sarsaparilla, bent upon +securing advantageous stands about the entrance. A quarter of an hour +later the spectators were on the way. The cars, filled in and out with +shouting humanity, crept slowly along, a bare half block separating +them. Roystering students swung arm in arm in eccentric dance from side +to side across the street. Ladies with their escorts hurried along the +sidewalks. Carriages, bright with fluttering flags, rolled by. Bicycles +darted in and out, their riders throwing words of salutation over their +shoulders to friends by the way. In the windows along the route was +displayed the bravery of blue banners. A window in a college hall was +piled high with great comfortable-looking pillows, each bearing a great +challenging Y in white ribbon or embroidery. And overhead the sky arched +a broad blue expanse from horizon to horizon. + +In this manner on some fair morning, centuries ago, did all Greece wend +its way to the Stadium and the Games of Olympia. + +In the hotel the lunch was over and that terrible age between it and the +arrival of the coaches was dragging its weary length along. Joel and +Blair were standing by the window talking in voices that tried to be +calm, cool and indifferent, but which were neither. + +"They're offering bets of ten to nine downstairs that Yates wins," +remarked Blair with elaborate composure. + +"Are they?" responded Joel absent-mindedly, thinking the while of the +signal for the second sequence. "I thought the odds were even." + +"They were until the news about Chesney's shoulder got about." + +"But there isn't really anything the matter with his shoulder, is +there?" + +"No. No one knows how the story got out. Whipple was taking all he could +get a while ago." + +"Some one wants to see you at the door, March," called the trainer, and +Joel found Outfield West, smiling and happy, waiting there. + +"How are you?" he whispered. "All right? How are the rest? Great Gobble, +Joel, but these Yates Johnnies are so sure of winning that they can't +keep still! There's a rumor here in the lobby that Yates's center is +sick. Know anything about it?" Joel shook his head. "Well, I'll see you +out at the field. We're going out now; Cooke, and Caldwell, and some of +the others. So long, my valiant lad. Keep a stiff upper lip and never +say die, and all that, you know. Adios!" + +There was a cheer below, and Blair, at the window, announced the +arrival of the conveyances. Instantly the lethargy of a minute before +was turned to excited bustle and confusion. Pads and nose-guards, +jerseys and coats, balls and satchels were seized and laid aside and +grabbed up again. Cries for missing apparel and paraphernalia were heard +on every side, and only a loud, peremptory command to "Shut up!" from +the head coach restored order and quietude. Then the door was thrown +open and down the narrow stairs they trooped, through the crowded lobby +where friends hemmed them about, patting the broad backs, shouting words +of cheer into their ears, and delaying them in their passage. + +Into the coaches they hurried, and as the crowd about the hotel burst +into loud, ringing cheers, the whips were cracked and the journey to the +field began. The route lay along quiet, unfrequented streets where only +an occasional cheer from a college window met their advent. Restraint +had worn off now, and the fellows were chatting fast and furiously. Joel +looked out at the handsome homes and sunny street, and was aware only of +a longing to be in the fray, an impatient desire to be doing. Briscom, +the substitute centre, a youth of twenty-one summers and one hundred and +ninety-eight pounds, sat beside him. + +"I was here two years ago with the freshman team," he was saying. "We +didn't do a thing to them, we youngsters, although the Varsity was +licked badly. And all during the afternoon game we sat together and +cheered, until at five o'clock I couldn't speak above a whisper. That +was a great game, that freshman contest! It took three hours and a half +to settle it. At the beginning of the second half there were only three +men on our team who had played in the first. I was one of them. I was +playing left guard. Story there was another. He gave up before the game +was through, though. I held out and when the whistle sounded, down I +went on the grass and didn't stir for ten minutes. We had two referees +that day. The first chap got hurt in a rush, and it took us half an hour +to find a fellow brave enough to take his place. That _was_ a game. +Football's tame nowadays." + +Across the coach Rutland, the right guard, a big bronze-haired chap of +one hundred and ninety-six, was deep in a discussion with "Judge" Chase, +right end, on an obscure point of ruling. + +"If you're making a fair catch and a player on the other side runs +against you intentionally or otherwise, you're interfered with, and the +rules give your side fifteen yards," declared Rutland. + +"Not if the interference is accidental and doesn't hurt your catch," +replied Chase. "If the other fellow is running and can't stop in time--" + +"Shut up, you fellows," growled Captain Button. "You play the game, and +the referee will look after the rules for you." + +"If you go on," said Briscom, "you must be careful about holding. De +Farge (the referee) is awfully down on holding and off-side plays. Last +year he penalized us eight times during the game. But he's all right, +just the same. He's the finest little ref that ever tossed a coin." + +"I fear I won't get a show," mourned Joel. + +"You can't tell," answered Briscom knowingly. "Last year there were two +fellows ahead of me and I got on for twenty minutes of the last half. +Trueland bent his ankle, Chesney hurt his knee, and Condon got whacked +on the head. Watch the game every minute of the time, March, and learn +how the Yates halves play the game. Then if you do go on you won't be in +the dark." + +The coaches rolled up to the players' entrance to the field, and the +fellows hopped out and disappeared into the quarters. + +The time was two o'clock. The gates were still thronged, although to the +people already on the stands it was a puzzle where the newcomers were +going to find seats. On the east side of the field Yates held open +house. From end to end, and overflowing half way around both north and +south stands, the blue of Yates fluttered in the little afternoon breeze +till that portion of the field looked like a bank of violets. + +On the west stand tier after tier of crimson arose until it waved +against the limitless blue of the sky. Countless flags dipped and +circled, crimson bonnets gleamed everywhere, and great bunches of +swaying chrysanthemums nodded and becked to each other. All collegedom +with its friends and relations was here; all collegedom, that is, within +traveling distance; beyond that, eager eyes were watching the bulletin +boards from Maine to Mojave. + +The cheering had begun. Starting at one end of the west stand the slogan +sped, section by section, growing in volume as it went, and causing the +crimson flags and banners to dance and leap in the sunlight. Across the +field answering cheers thundered out and the bank of violets trembled as +though a wind ruffled it. In front of the north stand the Yates college +band added the martial strains of The Stars and Stripes Forever to the +general pandemonium of enthusiasm. + +Then along the west stand a ripple of laughter which grew into a loud +cheer traveled, as a bent and decrepit figure attired in a long black +frock coat and high silk hat, the latter banded with crimson ribbon, +came into sight down the field. It was the old fruit seller of Harwell, +whose years are beyond reckoning, and who is remembered by the oldest +graduates. On he came, his old, wrinkled face grimacing in toothless +smiles, his ribboned cane waving in his trembling hand, and his +well-nigh bald head bowing a welcome to the watchers. For it was not he +who was the guest, for from time almost immemorial the old fruit seller +has presided at the contests of Harwell, rejoicing in her victories, +lamenting over her defeats. Down the line he limped, while gray-haired +graduates and downy-lipped undergrads cheered him loyally, calling his +name over and over, and so back to a seat in the middle of the stand, +from where all through the battle his crimson-bedecked cane waved +unceasingly. + +He was not the only one welcomed by the throng. A great jurist, +chrysanthemumed from collar to waist, bowed jovial acknowledgment of the +applause his appearance summoned. The governor of a State came too to +see once more the crimson of his alma mater clashing with the blue of +her old enemy. Professors, who had put aside their books, beamed +benevolently through their glasses as they walked somewhat embarrassedly +past the grinning faces of their pupils. Old football players, former +captains, bygone masters of rowing, commanders of olden baseball teams, +all these and many more were there and were welcomed heartily, +tumultuously, by the wearers of the red. And through it all the cheers +went on, the college songs were sung, and the hearts of youth and age +were happy and glad together. + +Then the cry of "Here they come!" traveled along the field, and the +blue-clad warriors leaped into the arena at the far end, and the east +stand went delirious, and flags waved, and a tempest shook the bank +of violets. + +"Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Yates!" + +And almost simultaneously the west stand arose and its voice arose to +the sky in wild, frenzied shouts of: + +"Har-well, Har-well, Har-well, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, +Har-well! Har-well! Har-well!" + +For over the fence came the head coach, and big Chesney, and Captain +Dutton, Story, the little quarter-back, and all the others, a long line +of crimson-stockinged warriors, with Joel March, Briscom, Bedford, and +the other substitutes flocking along in the tag end of the procession. +Over the field the two Elevens spread, while cheer after cheer met in +mid-field, clashed, and rolled upward to the blue. Then came a bare five +minutes of punting, dropping, passing, snapping, ere the officials +appeared from somewhere and gathered the opposing captains to them. A +coin flashed in the sunlight, spun aloft, descended, and was caught in +the referee's palm. "Heads!" cried Ferguson, the Yates captain. "Heads +it is!" announced the referee. + +The substitutes retreated unwillingly to the side lines, the Harwell men +spread themselves over the north end of the gridiron, Elton, the Yates +full-back, ground his heel into the turf and pointed the ball, the +cheering ceased, the whistle piped merrily, the bright new ball soared +aloft on its arching flight, and the game of the year was on. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + +HARWELL _VS_. YATES--THE FIRST HALF. + +That game will live in history. + +It was a battle royal between giant foes. On one hand was the confidence +begat of fifteen years of almost continuous victory over the crimson; on +the other the desperation that such defeat brings. Yates had a proud +record to sustain, Harwell a decade of worsting to atone for. And +twenty-five thousand persons watched and hoped and feared as the +battle raged. + +Down settled the soaring ball into the arms of Kingdon, who tucked it +under his arm and started with it toward the distant goal. But eight +yards was all he found ere a Yates forward crashed down upon him. Then +came a quick line-up on Harwell's forty yards, and first Prince, then +Kingdon, then Blair was put through the line, each for a small gain, and +the Harwell benches shouted their triumph. Again the pigskin was given +to Prince for a try through the hole between tackle and guard, but this +time he was hurled back for a loss. The next try was Kingdon's, and he +made a yard around the Yates left end. It was the third down and five +yards were lacking. Back went the ball for a kick, and a moment later +it was Yates's on her thirty-five yards, and again the teams were lining +up. It was now the turn of the east stand to cheer, and mightily the +shout rolled across the field. + +Through came the Yates full, the ball safely stowed in the crook of his +elbow, the whole force of the backs shoving him on. Three yards was his. +Another line-up. Again the Yates full-back was given the ball, and again +he gained. And it was the first down on Yates's forty-five-yard line. +Then began a rout in which Harwell retreated and Yates pursued until the +leather had crossed the middle of the field. The gains were made +anywhere, everywhere, it seemed. Allardyce yielded time and again, and +Selkirk beside him, lacking the other's support, was thrust aside almost +at will. The Yates shouters were wild with joy, and the cheers of +Harwell were drowned beneath the greater outbursts from the supporters +of the blue. + +Harwell appeared to be outclassed, so far as her rush line was +concerned. Past the fifty-yard line went the ball, and between it and +the next white streak, Harwell at last made a desperate stand, and +secured the ball. At the first play it was sent speeding away from +Blair's toe to the Yates mid-field, a long, clean, high kick, that led +the forwards down under it in time to throw the waiting back ere he had +taken a step, and that brought shouts of almost tearful delight from the +Harwell sympathizers. Back to her line-bucking returned Yates, and +slowly, but very surely, the contest moved over the lost ground, back +toward the Harwell goal. The fifty-five-yard line was passed again, the +fifty, the forty-five, and here or there holes were being torn in the +Harwell line, and the crimson was going down before the blue. At her +forty-yard line Harwell stayed again for a while the onslaught of the +enemy, and tried thrice to make ground through the Yates line. Then back +to the hands of Wilkes went the oval and again the heart-breaking +rout began. + + YATES. + + Full-back + ELTON, 184 + + Right Left + Half-Back Half-Back + THOMPSON, 153 CUSHING, 157 + + BIRCH, 140 + Quarter-back + + Right Right Right Left Left Left + End Tackle Guard Center Guard Tackle End +O'CALLAGHAN, FERGUSON, MORRIS, WILKES, ALLISON, GALT, FRASER, + 163 203 197 204 194 189 150 + + + Left Left Left Center Right Right Right + End Tackle Guard Guard Tackle End + DUTTON, SELKIRK, ALLARDYCE, CHESNEY, RUTLAND, BURBRIDGE, CHASE, + 150 186 189 229 196 179 156 + + Quarter-back + STORY, 144 + PRINCE, 157 KINGDON, 182 + Left Right + Half-Back Half-Back + + BLAIR, 179 + Full-Back + + + HARWELL. + +Harwell made her last desperate rally on her twenty-five yards. The ball +was thrown to Blair, who kicked, but not soon enough to get it out of +the way of the opposing forwards, who broke through as the ball rose. It +struck against the upstretched hand of the Yates right guard and bounded +toward the crimson's goal. The Yates left half fell upon it. From there, +without forfeiting the ball, Yates crashed down to the goal line, and +hurled Elton, her crack full-back, through at last for a touch-down. + +For five minutes chaos reigned upon the east stand. All previous efforts +paled into nothingness beside the outbursts of cheers that followed each +other like claps of thunder up and down the long bank of fluttering +color. Upon the other side of the field no rival shouts were heard. It +was useless to try and drown that Niagara of sound. But here and there +crimson flags waved defiantly at the triumphant blue. + +The goal was an easy one, though it is probable that it would have been +made had it been five times more difficult; for Elton was the +acknowledged goal kicker par excellence of the year. Then back trotted +the teams, and as the Harwell Eleven lined up for the kick-off Allardyce +at left guard gave place to Murdoch. The big fellow had given out and +had limped white-faced and choking from the field. + +The whistle sounded and the ball rose into air, corkscrewing toward the +Yates goal. Down the field under it went the Harwell runners like bolts +from a bow, and the Yates half who secured the pigskin was downed where +he caught. The two teams lined up quickly. Then back, foot by foot, yard +by yard, went the struggling Harwell men. Yet the retreat was less like +a rout than before, and Yates was having harder work. Her players were +twice piled up against the Harwell center, and she was at last forced to +send a blue-clad youth around the left end, an experiment which netted +her twelve yards and which brought the east stand to its feet, +yelling like mad. + +But here the crimson line at length braced and the ball went to its +center on three downs, and the tide turned for a while. The backs and +the right end were hurled, one after another, at the opposing line, and +shouts of joy arose from the crimson seats as gain after gain resulted. +Thrice in quick succession Captain Dutton shot through the left end of +the blue's line, the second time for a gain of five yards. + +The cheering along the west side of the great field was now continuous, +and the leaders, their crimson badges fluttering agitatedly, were waving +their arms like tireless semaphores and exciting the supporters of +Harwell to greater and greater efforts. Nearer and nearer to the coveted +touch-down crept the crimson line. With clock-work precision the ball +was snapped, the quarter passed, the half leaped forward, the rush line +plunged and strove, and then from somewhere a faint "Down!" was cried; +and the panting players staggered to their feet, leaving the ball yet +nearer to the threatened goal line. On the blue's twenty-three yards the +whistle shrilled, and a murmur of dismay crept over the Yates seats as +it was seen that Captain Ferguson lay motionless on the ground. But a +moment's rubbing brought him to his feet again. + +"He's not much hurt," explained the knowing ones. "He wants to rest a +bit." + +A minute later, while the ball still hovered about the twenty-yard line, +Yates secured it on a fumbled pass, and the tide ebbed away from the +beleagured posts. Back as before were borne the crimson warriors, while +the Yates forwards opened holes in the opposing line and the Yates +halves dashed and wormed through for small gains. Then Fate again aided +the crimson, and on the blue's forty-seven-yard line a fake kick went +sadly aglee and the runner was borne struggling back toward his own goal +before he could cry "Down!" And big Chesney grinned gleefully as he +received the leather and bent his broad back above it. + +Canes, crysanthemums, umbrellas, flags, carnations, hats, all these and +many other things waved frantically above the great bank of crimson as +the little knot of gallant knights in moleskin crept back over their +recent path of retreat and took the war again into the enemy's country. +Every inch of the way was stubbornly contested by the defenders, but +slowly they were pushed back, staggering under the shocks of the +crimson's attack. Chesney, Rutland, and Murdoch worked together, side by +side, like one man--or forty!--and when time was called for an instant +on the Yates twenty-five yards it was to bring Galt, the blue's left +tackle, back to consciousness and send him limping off the gridiron. His +place in the line was taken by an old Hilltonian, one Dunsmore, and the +game went on. + +And now it was the blue that was in full retreat and the crimson that +pursued. Nearer and nearer to the Yates goal line went the resisting +besieged and the conquering besiegers, and the great black score-board +announced but eight more minutes of the first half remaining. But even +eight were three more than were needed. For Harwell crossed the twenty +yards by tandem on tackle, gained the fifteen in two downs by wedges +between tackle and guard, and from there on until the much-desired goal +line was reached never paused in her breathless, resistless onslaught. +It was Wesley Blair who at last put the ball over for a touch-down, +going through between center and left guard with all the weight of the +Harwell Eleven behind him. His smothered "Down!" was never heard, for +the west stand was a swaying, tumultuous unit of thunderous acclaim. + +Up went the flags and banners of crimson hues, loud sounded the paean +of praise and thanksgiving from thousands of straining throats, while +below on the side lines the coaches leaped for joy and strained each +other to their breasts in unspeakable delight. + +And while the shouting went on as though never would the frenzied +shouters cease, the grim, panting Yates players lined up back of their +goal line, on tiptoe, ready at the first touch of the ball to the earth +to spring forward and, leaping upward, strive to arrest the speeding +oval. Prone upon the ground, the ball in his hands, lay Story. A yard or +two distant Blair directed the pointing of it. The goal was a most +difficult one, from an angle, and long the full-back studied and +directed, until faint groans of derision arose from the impatient east +stand and the men behind the goal line moved restively. + +"Lacing to you," said Blair quietly. Story shifted the ball +imperceptibly. + +"More." The quarter-back obeyed. + +"Cock it." Higher went the end toward the goal. + +"Not so much." It was lowered carefully, slowly. + +"Steady." Blair stepped back, glanced once swiftly at the cross-bar, and +stepped forward again. + +"Down!" Story's left hand touched the grass, the Yates men surged +forward, there was a thud, and-- + +Upward sped the ball, rising, rising, until it topped the bar, then +slowly turning over, over in its quickening descent. But the nearly +silent west stand had broke again into loud cries of triumph, and upon +the face of the Scoreboard appeared the momentous word, "GOAL!" + +Again the ball was put in play, but the half was soon over and the +players, snatching their blankets, trotted to the dressing rooms. And +the score-board announced: + +"Opponents, 6. Yates, 6." + +As the little swinging door closed behind him Joel found himself in a +seething mass of players, rubbers, and coaches, while a babel of voices, +greetings, commands, laughter, and lament, confused him. It was a busy +scene. The trainer and his assistants were working like mad. The doctor +and the head coach were talking twenty to the second. Everybody was +explaining everything, and the indefatigable coaches were hurrying from +man to man, instructing, reminding, and scolding. + +Joel had only to look on, save when he lent a hand at removing some torn +and stubborn jersey, or at finding lost shin-guards and nose masks, and +so he found a seat out of the way, and, searching the room with his +gaze, at length found Prince. That gentleman was having a nice, new pink +elastic bandage put about his ankle. He was grinning sturdily, but at +every clutch of the web his lips twitched and his brow puckered. Joel +watching him wondered how much more he would stand, and whether his +(Joel's) chance would come ere the fatal whistle piped the end of +the match. + +"Time's up!" cried the head coach suddenly, and the confusion redoubled +until he mounted to a bench and clapped his hands loudly above the din. +Comparative silence ensued. "Fellows," he began, "here's the list for +the next half. Answer to your names, please. And go over to the door. +Fellows, you'll have to make less noise. Dutton, Selkirk, +Murdoch--Murdoch?" + +"Right!" The voice emerged from the folds of a woolen sweater which had +stubbornly refused to go on or off. With a smile the head coach +continued the list, each man responding as his name was announced and +crowding to the doorway. + +"Chesney, Rutland, Burbridge, Barton--" + +A murmur arose from the listening throng, and Chase, a tall, pale-faced +youth, his cheek exhibiting the marks of a contact with some one's shoe +cleats, groaned loudly and flung himself on to a bench, where he sat +looking blindly before him until the list was finished. + +"Story, Prince--" + +"Here!" called the latter, jumping from his seat. Then a sharp, agonized +cry followed, and Prince toppled over, clutching vainly at the air. The +head coach paused. The doctor and the trainer pushed toward the fallen +man, and a moment later the former announced quietly: + +"He's fainted, sir." + +"Can he go on?" asked the head coach. + +"He is out of the question. Ankle's too painful. I couldn't allow it." + +"Very well," answered the other as he amended the list. "Kingdon, Blair, +March." + +Joel's heart leaped as he heard his name pronounced, and he tried to +answer. + +"March?" demanded the head coach impatiently; and + +"Here, sir!" gulped Joel, rushing to the door. + +"All right," continued the head coach. "There isn't time for any fine +phrases, fellows, and if there was I couldn't say them so that they'd do +any good. You know what you've got to do. Go ahead and do it. You have +the chance of wiping out a good many defeats, more than it's pleasant to +think about. The college expects a great deal from you. Don't disappoint +it. Play hard and play together. Don't give an inch; die first. Tackle +low, run high, _and keep your eyes on the ball!_ And now, fellows, +_three times three for Harwell!_" + +And what a cheer that was! The little building shook, the men stood on +their toes; the head coach cheered himself off the bench; and Joel +yelled so desperately that his breath gave out at the last "Rah!" and +didn't come back until the little door was burst open and he found +himself leaping the fence into the gridiron. + +And what a burst of sound greeted their reappearance! The west stand +shook from end to end. Crimson banners broke out on the breeze, every +one was on his feet, hats waved, umbrellas clashed, canes swirled. A +youth in a plaid ulster went purple in the face at the small end of a +five-foot horn; and for all the sound it seemed to make it might as well +have been a penny whistle. The ushers waved their arms, but to no +purpose, since the seats heeded them not at all, but shouted as their +hearts dictated and as their throats and lungs allowed. + +Joel, gazing about him from the field, felt a shiver of emotion pass +through him. They were cheering _him_! He was one of the little band in +honor of which the flags waved, the voices shouted, and the songs were +sung! He felt a lump growing in his throat, and to keep down the tears +that for some reason were creeping into his eyes, he let drive at a ball +that came bumping toward him and kicked it so hard that Selkirk had to +chase it half down the field. + +"Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Harwell! Harwell! Harwell! +Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Harwell!" + +The leaders of the cheering had again gotten control of their sections, +and the long, deliberate cheer, majestic in its intensity of sound, +crashed across the space, rebounded from the opposite stand, and went +echoing upward into the clear afternoon air. + +"Harwell!" muttered Joel. "_You Bet_!" Then he gathered with the others +about Dutton to listen to that leader's last instructions. And at the +same moment the east stand broke into cheers as the gallant sons of +Yates bounded on to the grass. Back and forth rolled the mighty torrents +of sound, meeting in midair, breaking and crashing back in fainter +reverberations. They were singing the college songs now, and the merits +and virtues of both colleges were being chanted defiantly to the tunes +of popular airs. Thousands of feet "tramp-tramped," keeping time against +the stands. The Yates band and the Harwell band were striving, from +opposite ends of the field, to drown each other's strains. And the blue +and crimson fluttered and waved, the sun sank lower toward the western +horizon, and the shadows crept along the ground. + +"There will be just one more score," predicted the knowing ones as they +buttoned their ulsters and overcoats up at the throat and crouched along +the side lines, like so many toads. "But who will make it I'm blessed +if I know!" + +Then Harwell lined up along the fifty-five-yard line, with the ball in +their possession, and the south goal behind them. And Yates scattered +down the field in front. And the linesmen placed their canes in the +turf, the referee and the umpire walked into the field, and the stands +grew silent save for the shrill voice of a little freshman on the west +stand who had fallen two bars behind in "This is Harwell's Day," and +needs must finish out while his breath lasted. + +"Are you all ready?" asked the referee. There was no reply. Only here +and there a foot moved uneasily as weights were thrown forward, and +there was a general, almost imperceptible, tightening of nerves +and muscles. + +And then the whistle blew. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + +HARWELL _VS_. YATES--A FAULT AND A REQUITAL. + +The kick-off came into Blair's ready arms, the interference formed +quickly, and the full-back sped down the field. One white line passed +under foot--another; Joel felt Blair's hand laid lightly upon his +shoulder, and ran as though life itself depended upon getting that +precious ball past the third mark. But the Yates ends were upon them. +Joel gave the shoulder to one, but the second dived through Kingdon, and +the runner came to earth on the twenty-three-yard line, with Joel +tugging at him in the hope of advancing the pigskin another foot. + +"Line up quickly, fellows!" called Story. The players jumped to their +places. "_1--9--9!_" Joel crept back a bare yard. "_1--9--9!_" + +Kingdon leaped forward, snugged the ball under his arm, and followed by +Joel tried to find a hole inside left end. But the hole was not there, +and the ball was instantly in the center of a pushing, grinding mass. +"Down!" No gain. + +Story, worming his way through the jumble, clapped his hands. Chesney +was already stooping over the ball. Joel ran to his position, and the +quarter threw a rapid glance behind him. + +"_2--8--9_!" He placed his hand on the center's broad back. + +"_2--8_--!" The ball was snapped. Joel darted toward the center, took +the leather at a hand pass, crushed it against the pit of his stomach, +and followed the left end through a breach in the living wall. Strong +hands pushed him on. Then he came bang! against a huge shoulder, was +seized by the Yates right half, and thrown. He hugged the ball as the +players crashed down upon him. + +"Third down," called the referee. "Three yards to gain." + +"Line up, fellows, line up!" called the impatient Story, and Joel jumped +to his feet, upsetting the last man in the pile-up, and scurried back. + +"_2--9--9_!" + +"_2--9_--!" Back sped Blair. Up ran Joel and Kingdon. The line blocked +desperately. A streak of brown flew by, and a moment later Joel heard +the thud as the full-back's shoe struck the ball. Then down the field he +sped, through the great gap made by the Yates forwards. The Harwell ends +were well under the kick and stood waiting grimly beside the Yates +full-back as the ball settled to earth. As it thudded against his canvas +jacket and as he started to run three pairs of arms closed about him, +and he went down in his tracks. The ball lay on Yates's +fifty-three-yard line. + +The field streamed up. The big Yates center took the ball. Joel crept +up behind the line, his hands on the broad canvas-covered forms in +front, dodging back and forth behind Murdoch and Selkirk. +"_26--57--38--19--_!" The, opposing left half started across, took the +ball, and then--why, then Joel was at the very bottom of some seven +hundred pounds of writhing humanity, trying his best to get his breath, +and wondering where the ball was! + +"Second down. Three and a half yards to gain." + +Again the lines faced. Joel was crouched close to quarter, obeying that +player's gesture. They were going to try Murdoch again. Joel heard the +breathless tones of the Yates quarter as he stooped behind the +opposing line. + +"A tandem on guard," whispered Joel to himself. The next moment there +was a crash, the man in front of him gave; then Joel and Story, gripping +the turf with their toes, braced hard; there was a moment of heaving, +panting suspense; then a smothered voice cried "Down!" + +"Third down," cried the referee. "Three and a half yards to gain." + +"Look out for a fake kick," muttered Story, as Joel fell back. The +opposing line was quickly formed, and again the signal was given. The +rush line heaved, Joel sprang into the air, settling with a crash +against the shoulders of Chesney and Murdoch, who went forward, carrying +the defense before them. But the ball was passed, and even as the Yates +line broke the thud of leather against leather was heard. Joel +scrambled to his feet, assisted by Chesney, and streaked up the field. +The ball was overhead, describing a high, short arch. Blair was awaiting +it, and Kingdon was behind and to the right of him. Down it came, out +shot Blair's hands, and catching it like a baseball he was off at a +jump, Kingdon beside him. Joel swung about, gave a shoulder to an +oncoming blue-clad rusher, ran slowly until the two backs were hard +behind him, and then dashed on. + +Surely there was no way through that crowded field. Yet even as he +studied his path a pair of blue stockings went into the air, and a +threatening obstacle was out of the way, bowled over by a Harwell +forward. The ends were now scouting ahead of the runners, engaging the +enemy. The fifty-five-yard line was traversed at an angle near the east +side of the field, and Joel saw the touch line growing instantly more +imminent. But a waiting Yates man, crouchingly running up the line, was +successfully passed, and the trio bore farther infield, putting ten more +precious yards behind them. + +The west stand was wild with exultant excitement, and Joel found himself +speeding onward in time with the rhythmic sway of the deep +"Rah-rah-rah!" that boomed across from the farther side. But the enemy +was fast closing in about them. The Yates right half was plunging down +from the long side, a pertinacious forward was almost at their heels. +And now the Yates full was charging obliquely at them with his eyes +staring, his jaw set, and determination in every feature and line. The +hand on Joel's shoulder dropped, Blair eased his pace by ever so little, +and Joel shot forward in the track of the full, his head down, and the +next moment was sprawling on the turf with the enemy above him. But he +saw and heard Blair and Kingdon hurdling over, felt a sharp pain that +was instantly forgotten, and knew that the ball was safely by. + +But the run was over at the next line. Kingdon made a heroic effort to +down the half, and would have succeeded had it not been for the +persevering forward, who reached him with his long arms and pulled him +to earth. And Blair, the ball safe beneath him, lay at the Yates +thirty-five yards, the half-back holding his head to earth. + +Joel arose, and as he trotted to his position he looked curiously at the +first finger of his left hand. It bore the imprint of a shoe-cleat, and +pained dully. He tried to stretch it, but could not. Then he shook his +hand. The finger wobbled crazily. Joel grinned. + +"Bust!" he whispered laconically. + +His first impulse was to ask for time to have it bound. Then he +recollected that some one had said the doctor was very strict about +injuries. Perhaps the latter would consider the break sufficient cause +for Joel's leaving the field. That wouldn't do; better to play with a +broken arm than not to play at all. So he tried to stick the offending +hand in his pocket, found there was no pocket there, and put the finger +in his mouth instead. Then he forgot all about it, for Harwell was +hammering the blue's line desperately and Joel had all he could do to +remember the signals and play his position. + +For the next quarter of an hour the ball hovered about Yates's danger +territory. Twice, by the hardest kind of line bucking, it was placed +within the ten-yard line, and twice, by the grimmest, most desperate +resistance, it was lost on downs and sent hurtling back to near +mid-field. But Yates was on the defensive, even when the oval was in her +possession, and Harwell experienced the pleasurable--and, in truth, +unaccustomed--exultation that comes with the assurance of superiority. +Harwell's greatest ground-gaining plays now were the two sequences from +ordinary formation and full-back forward. These were used over and over, +ever securing territory, and ever puzzling the opponents. + +Joel was hard worked. He was used not only to wriggle around the line +inside of ends and to squirm through difficult outlets, but to charge +the line as well, a feat of which his height and strong legs rendered +him well capable. He proved a consistant ground-gainer, and with Blair, +who worked like a hero, and Kingdon, who won laurels for himself that +remained fresh many years, gained the distance time and again. But +although the spectacular performances belonged here to the backs, the +line it was that made such work possible. Chesney, with his six feet +four and a half inches of muscle, and his two hundred and twenty-nine +pounds of weight, stood like a veritable Gibraltar of strength. Beside +him Rutland was scarcely less invulnerable, and Murdoch, on the other +side, played like a veteran, which he was not, being only a +nineteen-year-old sophomore, with but one hundred and sixty-seven pounds +to keep him from blowing away. + +Selkirk gave way to Lee when the half was two thirds over, but Burbridge +played it out, and then owned up to a broken shoulder bone, and was +severely lectured by the trainer, the head coach, and the doctor in +turn; and worshiped by the whole college. Captain Dutton played a +dashing, brilliant game at left end, and secured for himself a +re-election that held no dissenting vote. And Barton, at the other end +of the red line, tried his best to fill the place of the deposed Chase, +and if he did not fully succeed, at least failed not from want of +trying. But it was little Story, the quarter-back, who won unfading +glory. A mass of nerves, from his head down, his brain was as clear and +cool as the farthest goal post, and he ran the team in a manner that +made the coaches, hopping and scrambling along on the side lines, hug +themselves and each other in glee. So much for the Harwell men. + +As for Yates, what words are eloquent enough to do justice to the +heroic, determined defense she made there under the shadow of her own +goal, when defeat seemed every moment waiting to overwhelm her? Every +man in that blue-clad line and back of it was a hero, the kind that +history loves to tell of. The right guard, Morris, was a pitiable sight +as, with white, drawn face, he stood up under the terrific assault, +staggering, with half-closed eyes, to hold the line. Joel was heartily +glad when, presently, he fell up against the big Yates center after a +fierce attack at his position, and was supported, half fainting, from +the field. The substitute was a lighter man, as the next try at his +position showed, and the gains through the guard-tackle hole still went +on. Yates's team now held four substitutes, although with the exception +of Douglas, the substitute right-guard, none of them was perceptibly +inferior to the men whose places they took. + +The cheering from the Harwell seats was now continuous, and the refrain +of "Glory, glory for the Crimson!" was repeated over and over. On the +east stand the Yates supporters were neither hopeless nor silent. Their +cheers were given with a will and encouraged their gallant warriors to +renewed and ever more desperate defense. The score-board proclaimed the +game almost done. With six minutes left it only remained, as it seemed, +for Yates to hold the plunging crimson once more at the last ditch to +keep the game a tie, and so win what would, under the circumstances, +have been as good as a victory. + +Down came the Harwell line once more to the twenty yards, but here they +stopped. For on a pass from quarter to left half, the latter, one Joel +March of our acquaintance, fumbled the ball, dived quickly after it, and +landed on the Yates left guard, who had plunged through and now lay with +the pigskin safe beneath him! + +It is difficult to either describe or appreciate the full depth of +Joel's agony as he picked himself up and limped back to his place. It +was a heart-tearing, blinding sensation that left him weak and limp. But +there was nothing for it save to go on and try to retrieve his fatal +error. The white face of Story turned toward him, and Joel read in the +brief glance no anger, only an almost tearful grief. He swung upon his +heel with a muttered word that sounded ill from his lips. But he was +only a boy and the provocation was great; let us not remember it +against him. + +The Yates center threw back the ball for a kick, and Joel went down the +field after it. As he ran he wondered if Story would try him again. It +seemed doubtful, but if he did--Joel ground his teeth--he would take it +through the line! They would see! Just give him one chance to retrieve +that fumble! A year later and he had learned that a misplay, even though +it lose the game for your side, may in time be lived down. But now that +knowledge was not his, and a heart-rending picture of disgrace before +the whole college presented itself to him. + +Then Blair had the ball, was off, was tackled near the side line under +the Yates stand, and the two teams were quickly lined up again. The +cheers from the friends of the blue were so loud that the quarter's +voice giving the signal was scarcely to be heard. Joel crept nearer. +Then his heart leaped up into his throat and stood still. + +"_7--1--2!_" + +There was no mistake! It was left half's ball on a double pass for a +run around right end! The line-up was within eight yards of the east +side line. The play was the third of the second sequence, in which Joel +with the other backs had been well instructed, and its chance of success +lay in the fact that it had the appearance of a full-back punt or a run +around the long side of the field. Joel leaned forward, facing the left +end. Blair crept a few feet in. + +"_7--1--!_" began the quarter. + +The ball was snapped, Blair ran three strides nearer, the quarter +turned, and the pigskin flew back. Joel started like a shot, seized the +ball from the full-back's outstretched hands, and sped toward the right +end of the line. The right half crossed in front of him, the right end +and tackle thrust back their opponents, the left tackle and guard +blocked hard and long. Blair helped the right half in his diversion at +the left end, and Joel, with Dutton interfering and Blair a stride +behind, swept around the end. + +The only danger was in being forced over the touch line, but the play +worked well, and the opposing tackle seemed anchored. The Yates end, +from his place back of the line, leaped at them, but was upset by +Dutton, and the two went down together. The opposing left half bore down +upon Joel and Blair, the latter speeding along at the runner's side, and +came at them with outstretched arms. Another moment and Joel was alone. +Story and the half were just a mass of waving legs and arms many +yards behind. + +Joy was the supreme sensation in Joel's breast. Only the Yates +full-back threatened, the ball was safely clutched in his right arm, his +breath came easily, his legs were strong, and the goal-posts loomed far +down the field and beckoned him on. This, he thought exultingly, was the +best moment that life could give him. + +Behind, although he could not hear it for the din of shouting from the +Harwell stand, he knew the pursuit to be in full cry. He edged farther +out from the dangerous touch line and sped on. The Yates full-back had +been deceived by the play and had gone far up the field for a kick, and +now down he came, and Joel found a chill creeping over him as he +remembered the player's wide reputation. He was the finest full-back, so +report had it, of the year. And of a sudden Joel found his breath +growing labored, and his long legs began to ache and seemed stiffening +at the thighs and knees. But he only ran the faster and prepared for the +threatened tackle. Harwell hearts sank, for the crimson-clad runner +appeared to waver, to be slowing down. Suddenly, when only his own +length separated him from his prey, the Yates full-back left the ground +and, like a swimmer diving into the sea, dove for the hesitating runner. + +There was but one thing that day more beautiful to see than that +fearless attempt to tackle; and that one thing was the leap high into +the air that the Harwell left half made just in the nick of time, +clearing the tackler, barely avoiding a fall, and again running free +with the ball still safe! + +The Yates player quickly recovered and took up the chase, and the +momentary pause had served to bring the foremost of the other pursuers +almost to Joel's heels. And now began a contest that will ever live in +the memories of those who witnessed it. + +Panting, weary, his legs aching at every bound, his throat parching with +the hot breath, Joel struggled on. Joy had given place to fear and +desperation. Time and again he choked down the over-ready sobs. Behind +him sounded the thud of relentless feet. He dared not look back lest he +stumble. Every second he expected to feel the clutch of the enemy. Every +second he thought that _now_ he must give up. But recollection of that +fumble crushed down each time the inclination to yield, and one after +another the nearly obliterated lines passed under foot. He gave up +trying to breathe; it was too hard. His head was swimming and his lungs +seemed bursting. + +Then his wandering faculties rushed back at a bound as he felt a touch, +just the lightest fingering, on his shoulder, and gathering all his +remaining strength he increased his pace for a few steps, and the hand +was gone. And the ten-yard line passed, slowly, reluctantly. + +"One more," he thought, "one more!" + +The great stands were hoarse with shouting; for here ended the game. The +figures on the score-board had changed since the last play, and now +relentlessly proclaimed one minute left! + +Nearer and nearer crept the five-yard line, nearer and nearer crept the +pursuing full-back. Then, and at the same instant, the scattered breadth +of lime was gone, and a hand clutched at the canvas jacket of the +Harwell runner. Once more Joel called upon his strength and tried to +draw away, but it was no use. And with the goal line but four yards +distant, stout arms were clasped tightly about his waist. + +One--two--three strides he made. The goal line writhed before his dizzy +sight. Relentlessly the clutching grasp fastened tighter and tighter +about him like steel bands, and settled lower and lower until his legs +were clasped and he could move no farther! Despairingly he thrust the +ball out at arms' length and tried to throw himself forward; the +trampled turf rose to meet him.... + + * * * * * + +"The ball is over!" pronounced the referee. It was a nice decision, for +an inch would have made a world of difference; but it has never +been disputed. + +Then Dutton leaped into the air, waving his arms, Rutland turned a +somersault, and the west stand arose as one man and went mad with +delight. Hats and cushions soared into air, the great structure shook +and trembled from end to end, and the last few golden rays of the +setting sun glorified the waving, fluttering bank of triumphant crimson! + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + + +THE RETURN. + +"Boom! Boom!" thundered the big drum. + +"Tootle-toot!" shrilled the fife. + +"Tarum! Taroom!" growled the horns. + +The Harwell band marched through the archway and defiled on to the +platform. The college marched after. Well, perhaps not all the college; +I have heard that a senior living in Lanter was too ill to be present. +But the incoming platform was thronged from wall to track, so it was +perhaps as well that he didn't come, because there positively wasn't +room for him. + +"What is it?" asked a citizen in a silk hat of a gayly decorated youth +on the outskirts of the crowd. The latter stared for full a minute ere +the words came. Then he cried: + +"Here's a fellow who wants to know what we're here for!" And a great +groan of derision went up to the arching roof, and the ignorant person +slunk away, yet not before his silk hat had been pushed gently but +firmly far down over his eyes. Punishment ever awaits the ignorant who +will not learn. + + "Glory, glory for the Crimson, + Glory, glory for the Crimson, + Glory, glory for the Crimson, + For this is Harwell's day," + +sang the throng. + +"Boom! Boom! Boom!" thundered the big drum. + +"Tootle-toot!" shrilled the fife. + +"Now, fellows, three times three, three long Harwells, and three times +three!" shouted the master of ceremonies hoarsely. + +"Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Harwell! Harwell! Harwell! +Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Harwell!" shrieked the crowd. + +"Louder! Louder!" commanded the remorseless youth on the baggage truck. +"Nine long Harwells! One, two, three!" + +"Har-well! Har-well! Har-well! Har-well! Har-well! Har-well! Har-well! +Har-well! Har-well!" The sound crashed up against the vaulted station +roof and thundered back. And none heard the shriek of the incoming train +as it clattered over the switches at the entrance of the shed, and none +saw it until it was creeping in, the engineer leaning far out of the cab +window and waving a red bandanna handkerchief, a courtesy that won him a +cheer all to himself. + +Then out tumbled the returning heroes, bags in hands, followed by the +head coach and all the rest of the attendant train. And then what a +pushing and shouting and struggling there was! There were forty men to +every player, and the result was that some of the latter were nearly +torn limb from limb ere they were safe out of reach on the shoulders of +lucky contestants for the honor of carrying them the first stage of the +journey to college. + +There were some who tried to hide, some who tried to run, others who +enjoyed the whole thing hugely and thumped the heads of their bearers +heartily just to show good feeling. + +Joel was one of the last to leave the car, and as he set foot on the +platform a hundred voices went up in cheers, and a hundred students +struggled for possession of him. But one there was who from his place of +vantage halfway up the steps repelled all oncomers, and assisted by a +second youth of large proportions seized upon Joel and setting him upon +their shoulders bore him off in triumph. + +"Boom! Boom!" said the big drum. And the procession started. Down the +long platform it went, past the waiting room doors where a crowd of +onlookers waved hats and handkerchiefs, and so out into the city street. +Joel turned his head away from the observers, ashamed and happy. There +was no let-up to the cheering. One after another the names of the +players and substitutes, coaches and trainer, were cheered and +cheered again. + +"Out of the way there!" cried Joel's bearers, and the marching throng +looked about, moved apart, and as Joel was borne through, cheered him to +the echo, reaching eager hands toward him, crying words of commendation +and praise into his buzzing ears. + +"Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, March!" + +"One!" shrieked a youth near where Joel soon found himself at the head +of the procession, and the slogan was taken up: + +"Two! Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten! E-lev-en!" + +"Now give me your hand, Joel!" cried the youth upon whose left shoulder +he was swaying. Joel obeyed, smiling affectionately down into the +upraised face. Then he uttered a cry of pain. One of the fingers of his +left hand was bandaged, and Outfield West dropped it gingerly. + +"Not--not _broke_?" he asked wonderingly. Joel nodded. + +"Aren't you _proud_ of it?" whispered his chum. + +"Yes," answered Joel simply and earnestly. + +"May I take it, too?" asked the other youth. Joel started and looked +down into the anxious and entreating face of Bartlett Cloud. He grasped +the hesitating hand that was held up. + +"Yes," he answered smilingly. + +And the big drum boomed, and the shrill fifes tootled, and the crimson +banners waved upon the breeze, and every one cheered himself hoarse, and +thus the conquering heroes came back to the college that loved them. + +And Joel, a little tearful when no one was looking, and very happy +always, was borne on the shoulders of West and Cloud, friend and enemy, +at the very head of the procession, honored above all! + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11041 *** |