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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of On Your Mark!, by Ralph Henry Barbour
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: On Your Mark!
+       A Story of College Life and Athletics
+
+Author: Ralph Henry Barbour
+
+Illustrator: C. M. Relyea
+
+Release Date: March 15, 2014 [EBook #45140]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON YOUR MARK! ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Donald Cummings and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ON YOUR MARK!
+
+
+
+
+BY RALPH HENRY BARBOUR.
+
+Each 12mo, Cloth.
+
+
+  The Spirit of the School.
+    Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.
+
+  Four Afloat.
+    Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.
+
+  Four Afoot.
+    Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.
+
+  Four in Camp.
+    Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.
+
+  On Your Mark.
+    Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.
+
+  The Arrival of Jimpson.
+    Illustrated. $1.50.
+
+  Weatherby’s Inning.
+    Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.
+
+  Behind the Line.
+    Illustrated. $1.50.
+
+  Captain of the Crew.
+    Illustrated. $1.50.
+
+  For the Honor of the School.
+    Illustrated. $1.50.
+
+  The Half-Back.
+    Illustrated. $1.50.
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: “Fooling?” Burley echoed. “Why, no, I ain’t fooling.”]
+
+
+
+
+ON YOUR MARK!
+
+A Story of College Life and Athletics
+
+
+BY RALPH HENRY BARBOUR
+
+AUTHOR OF BEHIND THE LINE, WEATHERBY’S INNING, ETC.
+
+
+_ILLUSTRATED BY C. M. RELYEA_
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+  New York
+  D. Appleton and Company
+  1908
+
+
+
+
+  COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY
+  D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
+
+
+_Published September, 1904_
+
+
+
+
+        TO
+   BERT AND LILA
+
+   IN MEMORY OF
+  “THE BIG HOUSE”
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+ CHAPTER                                         PAGE
+     I.--THE WINNER OF THE MILE                     1
+    II.--A VISITING CARD                           12
+   III.--ON THE CINDERS                            22
+    IV.--HAL HAS AN IDEA                           33
+     V.--“MR. PETER BURLEY, BLACKWATER, COL.”      45
+    VI.--“RIGHT GUARD BACK!”                       57
+   VII.--“THE RANCH”                               65
+  VIII.--PETE’S CLUB TABLE                         73
+    IX.--THE DUCK HUNT                             86
+     X.--DINNER FOR TWO                            96
+    XI.--THE CAPSIZED BOAT                        106
+   XII.--TOMMY CORRECTS A REPORT                  120
+  XIII.--PETE WRITES HOME                         130
+   XIV.--HOCKEY--WITH VARIATIONS                  139
+    XV.--IN THE “CORRAL”                          147
+   XVI.--THE INDOOR MEETING                       157
+  XVII.--ALLAN LEAVES THE CLUB TABLE              172
+ XVIII.--AN ALARM OF FIRE                         181
+   XIX.--PETE PUTS THE SHOT                       193
+    XX.--TRACK AND FIELD                          203
+   XXI.--SUNSHINE AND SHADOW                      210
+  XXII.--A NEWSPAPER PARAGRAPH                    218
+ XXIII.--THE FRESHMAN GAME                        227
+  XXIV.--“ON YOUR MARK!”                          239
+   XXV.--THE LAST EVENT                           254
+  XXVI.--“VALE”                                   263
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+                                                             FACING
+                                                               PAGE
+
+  “Fooling?” Burley echoed. “Why, no, I ain’t fooling.”
+                                                _Frontispiece_
+  A white-clad form sped across the finish.                      11
+  “Sorry you don’t approve of them.”                             94
+  Pete tipped him over the barrier.                             143
+
+
+
+
+ON YOUR MARK
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE WINNER OF THE MILE
+
+
+“All out for the mile!”
+
+Myer, clerk of the course, stuck his head inside the dressing-tent and
+bawled the command in a voice already made hoarse by his afternoon’s
+duties. In response a dozen or so fellows gathered their blankets
+or dressing-gowns about them and tumbled out into the dusk of a
+mid-October evening. Because of the fact that on Wednesday and Saturday
+afternoons the athletic field was required for the football contests
+it was necessary to hold the Fall Handicap Meeting on one of the other
+days of the week. This year it was on Friday, October 17th, and because
+the Erskine College faculty does not permit athletic contests of any
+sort to begin before four o’clock on any day save Saturday, the mile
+run, the last event on the program, was not reached until almost six
+o’clock; and in the middle of October in the latitude of Centerport it
+is almost dark at that time.
+
+It was cold, too. A steady north wind blew down the home-stretch and
+made the waiting contestants dance nimbly about on their spiked shoes
+and rub their bare legs. That wind had helped the sprinters, hurdlers,
+and jumpers very considerably, since it had blown against their backs
+on the straightaway and the runway, enabling them to equal the Erskine
+record in two cases and break it in a third. It was Stearns, ’04, the
+track-team captain and crack sprinter who, starting from scratch, had
+performed the latter feat. Until to-day the Erskine record for the
+220-yards dash had been twenty-two seconds flat; this afternoon, with
+the wind behind him all the way, Stearns had clipped a fifth of a
+second from the former time, to the delight of the shivering audience,
+who had cheered the announcement of the result loudly, glad to be able
+to warm themselves with enthusiasm on any pretext.
+
+But if the north wind had been kind to the sprinters, the middle- and
+long-distance men had derived no benefit from it; for while it aided
+them on the home-stretch, it held them back on the opposite side of the
+field. The spectators had already begun to stream away toward college
+when Myer at length succeeded in getting the last of the milers placed
+upon their marks. The two-mile event had been tame, with Conroy, ’04,
+jogging over the line a good twenty yards ahead of the second man,
+and there was no reason to expect anything more exciting in the mile.
+Rindgely and Hooker were both on scratch and surely capable of beating
+out any of the ambitious freshmen, who, with a leavening of other
+class men, were sprinkled around the turn as far as the 200 yards.
+To be sure, Rindgely and Hooker might fight it out, but it was more
+probable that they had already tossed a coin between themselves to see
+who was to have first prize and who second. So the audience, by this
+time pretty well chilled, went off in search of more comfortable places
+than Erskine Field; or at least most of them did; a handful joined the
+groups of officials along the track, and jumped and stamped about in an
+attempt to get the blood back into toes and fingers.
+
+Clarke Mason was one of those electing to stay. Possibly the fact
+that he had had the forethought to stop in his room on his way to the
+field and don a comfortable white sweater may have had something to do
+with his decision. At least it is safe to say that the mere fact of
+his being managing editor of the Erskine Purple was not accountable,
+for the Purple had a small but assiduous corps of reporters in its
+employment, one of whom, looking very blue about the nose, Clarke spoke
+to on his way across to where Stearns, having got back into his street
+clothes, was talking to Kernahan, the trainer.
+
+“Well, who’s going to win this, Billy?” asked Clarke. (The track
+trainer was “Billy” to only a select few, and many a student, seeking
+to ingratiate himself with the little Irishman, had had his head almost
+snapped off for too familiar use of that first name.) Kernahan looked
+over the contestants and nodded to the men on scratch.
+
+“One of them,” he answered.
+
+“Then you have no infant prodigies for this event in the freshman
+candidates?”
+
+“I don’t know of any. Two or three of them may turn out fast, but I
+guess they can’t hurry Hooker or Rindgely much.”
+
+“Who’s the chap you’ve got by himself over there on the turn?” asked
+Stearns.
+
+“That’s--I don’t mind his name; he’s a freshman from Hillton; he wanted
+more handicap, but I couldn’t give it to him, not with those legs of
+his. He’s built for a runner, anyhow.”
+
+“He surely is,” answered Stearns, “as far as legs are concerned.
+But legs aren’t everything. Hello! you haven’t given that little
+black-haired sophomore much of a show; thirty yards won’t help him much
+in the mile.”
+
+“Track, there!” cried a voice.
+
+The three moved back on to the turf, Kernahan, who was timer, pulling
+out his watch. The dozen or so milers who had been summoned from the
+tent had had their ranks increased by several others. Hooker and
+Rindgely had the scratch to themselves, but the thirty yards held three
+men scarcely less speedy, and from that point onward around the turn
+as far as the middle of the back-stretch the others were scattered
+in little groups of twos and threes. Only the freshman with the long
+legs was alone. He had been given a handicap of 120 yards, and was
+jogging back and forth across the track with the bottom of his drab
+dressing-gown flapping around his slender ankles. Ahead of him in the
+gathering twilight six other runners, in two groups, were fidgeting
+about in the cold. Across the field floated the command to get ready.
+He tossed his wrap aside, revealing a lithe figure of little above
+medium height with long legs in which the muscles played prettily as he
+leaned forward with outstretched arm. At the report of the pistol he
+sprang away with long easy strides that seemed to eat up the distance.
+At the beginning of the home-stretch he had caught up the nearest bunch
+of runners, and at the mark he was speeding close behind the foremost
+men and taking the pace from the leader. It had cost him something to
+gain the position, and to the watchers about the finish it seemed that
+he was already spent.
+
+“Your long-legged freshman’s done for, I guess,” said Clarke.
+
+“Yes, he’s too ambitious. Has a pretty stride, though, hasn’t he,
+Billy?” Walter Stearns followed the freshman runner with his gaze while
+he began the turn. Kernahan too was watching him, and with something
+like interest. But all he said was:
+
+“Stride’s pretty good; feet drag a good deal, though.”
+
+“Who’s that closing up?” asked Stearns. “Oh, it’s the sophomore chap
+with the black hair. He’s an idiot, that’s what he is. Look! he’s
+trying to pass Long-legs. There he goes! Long-legs has sense, anyhow.
+Sophomore’s taken the lead, and look at the pace he’s making! Long-legs
+is dropping back; none but a fool would try to keep up to that.”
+
+They were at the turn now, and the gathering darkness made it difficult
+to determine who was who. So the watchers gave their attention to
+the scratch-men and one or two stragglers who were bunched together
+half-way down the back-stretch. Rindgely and Hooker were close
+together, the latter putting his toes down squarely into the former’s
+prints. Both were running easily and with the consciousness of plenty
+of power in reserve. When the turn was begun they had gained slightly
+on the others near them and were about 120 yards behind the first
+bunch. The black-haired sophomore was still setting the pace when he
+crossed the mark again. Behind him at short intervals sped four others,
+and last in the group came the freshman with the long legs. The
+half-hundred spectators that remained were clustered close to the track
+near the finish and, in spite of chattering teeth, were displaying some
+enthusiasm. A junior named Harris who was running third was encouraged
+lustily, but most of the applause was reserved for the two cracks,
+Rindgely and Hooker; they were well known and well liked; besides, they
+were pretty certain to win, and it is always satisfactory to back the
+victor.
+
+“What’s this, the third lap?” Clarke asked, thumping his bare hands
+together. “Well, I’m going back; better come along, Walt. You’ll freeze
+here. If we’re going to have this sort of weather in October, I’d like
+to know what’s going to happen to us in December.”
+
+“Well, I guess I’ll go along,” Stearns said. “It surely is cold, and we
+know how this is going to end. There go Rindgely and Hooker now; watch
+’em overhaul the bunch. If you see Ames, Billy, tell him I said he was
+to look me up to-night, will you?”
+
+“All right,” answered the trainer. “But you’d better see this out;
+there’s something in the way of a finish coming pretty quick.”
+
+“Why, what’s up?” asked the track-team captain, turning quickly to
+observe the runners.
+
+“Well, I don’t know for sure,” answered Kernahan, cautiously, “but the
+scratch-men aren’t going to get their mugs without a fight for them,
+I’m thinking.”
+
+“Who’s in the running?” Stearns asked, eagerly. Once more the first men
+were coming down the home-stretch. But now the order was changed. The
+black-haired sophomore was not in sight, but in his place sped Hooker,
+an easy, confident smile on his face. On his heels was Rindgely. Then
+came the junior, Harris, and beside him, fighting for the pole, was a
+little plump senior. Behind this pair and about five yards distant was
+the long-legged freshman. His head was held well, but his breathing was
+loud and tortured. Stearns looked each man over searchingly. Then he
+turned to the trainer.
+
+“Last lap! Last lap!” was the cry.
+
+“Say, Billy, you don’t mean Harris?” shouted Stearns when he could make
+himself heard.
+
+Kernahan shook his head.
+
+“Then who?”
+
+“Keep your eyes on Ware,” said the trainer.
+
+“Ware? Who the dickens is Ware?” asked Stearns. But the trainer was
+scattering the spectators from beside the finish, and so paid no heed.
+The stragglers were passing now and the crowd was speeding them along
+with announcements that the last lap had begun and with mildly ironical
+injunctions to “move up head” or “cut across the field.” Then all eyes
+were turned to the back-stretch, where the five leaders, survivors of
+a field of some fifteen, were racing along, dim whitish forms in the
+evening twilight. Hooker was setting a hot pace now, and the gaps were
+lengthening. But as the last turn was reached the figures changed their
+positions; some one dropped back; some one else moved suddenly to the
+front. But it was all a blur and the identity of the runners could be
+only surmised.
+
+“That’s Rindgely taking the lead, I guess,” said Stearns. “That means
+that Hooker’s to sprint the last fifty yards or so and get first. But
+I’d like to know who Ware is. Do you know?”
+
+Clarke shook his head.
+
+“Search me,” he answered. “Maybe it’s the long-legged chap. He’s still
+in the bunch, I think.”
+
+“Yes, but he was just about done up when the last lap was finished. Did
+you notice? He was gasping. Where’s Billy?”
+
+“Over there at the mark. He’s holding a watch; if you speak to him now
+he’ll jump down your throat. Here they come. Let’s move over here where
+we can see.”
+
+“Well, whoever’s in the lead is making a mighty painful pace for the
+finish of the mile,” exclaimed the captain. “Seems to me he’s ’way
+ahead, too!”
+
+“It isn’t Rindgely,” said Clarke, decisively. “It must be----”
+
+“Come on, Freshman!” cried a mighty voice at Clarke’s elbow, and a
+big broad-shouldered youth crashed by, sending the editor of the
+Purple reeling on to the cinders, from where he was pulled back by
+Stearns. Clarke glared around in search of the cause of his ignominious
+performance, and saw him standing, a whole head above the crowd, a few
+paces away at the edge of the track. He seemed to be quite unconscious
+of Clarke’s anger. Leaning out over the cinders, he was waving a big
+hand and bellowing in a voice that drowned all other cries:
+
+“Come on, Freshman! Dig your spurs in! _Whoo-ee!_”
+
+Clarke’s anger gave way to excitement. Down the home-stretch came the
+runners, sprinting for the mark. Stearns was shouting unintelligible
+things at his side and apparently trying to climb his back in order to
+see the finish. The throng was yelling for Hooker, for Rindgely, for
+Harris.
+
+And then, suddenly, comparative silence fell. Twenty yards away the
+runners became recognizable. The crowd stared in wonderment. Well in
+the lead and increasing that lead with every long, perfect stride came
+an unknown, a youth with pale cheeks disked with crimson, a youth
+of medium height with lithe body and long legs that were working like
+parts of machinery. Back of him ran Hooker; beyond, dim figures told of
+a struggle between Rindgely and the junior for third place. It was the
+stentorian voice of the big fellow at the edge of the track that broke
+the momentary silence of surprise.
+
+“Pull up, Freshman, it’s all yours!” it shouted.
+
+Then confusion reigned. The little throng raced along the track toward
+the finish. Hooker’s friends urged him to win, while others applauded
+the unknown. And in a second it was all over, mile race and fall
+meeting. A white-clad form sped across the finish six yards in the
+lead, tossed his arms in air, swerved to the left, and pitched blindly
+into the throng.
+
+[Illustration: A white-clad form sped across the finish.]
+
+“What’s the matter with Seven?” shrieked a small youth at Stearns’s
+elbow. The track-team captain turned.
+
+“Who was that fellow that won?” he demanded.
+
+“Ware,” was the jubilant reply. “Ware, ’07!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+A VISITING CARD
+
+
+When Allan Ware recovered enough to take an interest in things he found
+himself lying in the dressing-tent with some one--it afterward proved
+to be Harris--striving to draw a coat from under him. No one was paying
+any special attention to him, and the tent was filled with the hard
+breathing of the runners, who were now only intent upon getting into
+their clothes. Allan took a deep breath and obligingly rolled over so
+that Harris could have his coat. Then he sat up.
+
+He had not fainted at the end of the race; it is very seldom that
+a runner loses consciousness, no matter how hard or prolonged the
+struggle has been. The collapse is produced by oppression of the
+chest, less frequently of the heart in particular, and the consequent
+difficulty of breathing is the most painful feature of it. Allan had
+been dimly aware from the moment he pitched into the throng until now
+of what had passed, but his interest in events had been slight; he
+knew that arms had reached out and saved him from falling and that
+some one--a very strong some one, evidently--had picked him up like a
+feather and carried him the short distance to the tent. Allan wondered,
+now that he could breathe again without exertion, who the fellow had
+been.
+
+Every one was intent upon dressing and no one looked as though
+expecting thanks. Rindgely, still blowing like a porpoise, was
+balancing himself on one leg and trying to thrust the other into his
+trousers, while he explained to Hooker that the track was like mush and
+no one should be expected to run on it. Hooker, looking amused, grunted
+as he pulled his shirt over his head. Allan scrambled to his feet and
+began to dress. He couldn’t help wondering what the others thought of
+his victory; it seemed rather important to him, but he had never won
+a race before, although he had taken part in a good many, and so it
+probably appeared more wonderful than it really was. The trainer stuck
+his head in at the door.
+
+“Hurry up, now,” he commanded. “Get up to the gym, and don’t be afraid
+of the water when you get there.”
+
+This familiar formula met with the usual groans and hoots, and Kernahan
+grinned about the tent. Starting to withdraw his bullet-shaped head
+with its scant adornment of carroty hair, the trainer’s eyes fell on
+Allan. He picked his way over the tangle of legs.
+
+“Well, are you done up?” he asked. Allan shook his head.
+
+“That’s the boy, then!” continued Billy, heartily. “You’d better come
+out Monday and we’ll see what you can do. Did you ever run much?”
+
+“Some,” answered Allan, “at school.”
+
+“Well, you see me Monday.”
+
+When the trainer had gone, Hooker called across:
+
+“Say, Ware, you’re done for now.”
+
+“How’s that?” asked Allan.
+
+“Why, when Billy takes a fancy to you, he just merely works you to
+death. You weigh when you get over to gym and then weigh again, say,
+three weeks from now. You won’t know yourself.”
+
+A laugh went up. Rindgely chimed in with:
+
+“You’ll find your work different from winning a mile with a couple of
+hundred yards handicap.”
+
+Allan had only had one hundred and twenty, but he didn’t think it worth
+while correcting Rindgely, who was evidently rather sore over his
+defeat. Harris unexpectedly took up for him.
+
+“He didn’t have that much handicap, Larry; and if he had, it wouldn’t
+have made any difference to you, you old ice-wagon. What was the
+matter with you, anyhow?”
+
+Rindgely entered into elaborate explanations, which concerned the state
+of the track, the injustice of the handicapping, and many other things,
+and Harris laughed them to scorn.
+
+“Oh, you’re just lazy,” he jibed. “Your name’s Lazy Larry.”
+
+A howl of delight went up, and Allan looked to see Rindgely become
+angry. But, after a moment of indecision, he added his chuckle to the
+general hilarity. Allan turned to Harris.
+
+“I was rather done up after the run,” he said, “and some fellow must
+have lugged me over here. Did you happen to see who he was?”
+
+“Yes; one of your class, a whopping big fellow named Burley. Know him,
+don’t you?”
+
+Allan shook his head thoughtfully.
+
+“Well, you will when you see him.”
+
+Harris picked up his togs and hurried off. Allan would have liked to
+walk back with him to the gym, but he thought the junior might think
+him “fresh” if he offered his company, and so he started back alone.
+It was almost dark now, and the lights in the college yard and in the
+village were twinkling brightly when he reached the corner of Poplar
+Street and turned down that elm-roofed thoroughfare toward his room.
+Poplar Street ends at Main Street in a little triangular grass-grown
+space known as College Park, and Allan’s room was in the rambling
+corner house that faces the park and trails its length along Main
+Street. Allan thought his address sounded rather well: “1 College
+Park” had an aristocratic sound that pleased him. And since he had
+been unable to secure accommodations in one of the dormitories, he
+considered himself lucky to have found such comfortable quarters as
+Mrs. Purdy’s house afforded.
+
+His room was large, with two windows in front reaching to the floor and
+four others arranged in couples along the side, and affording a clear
+view of the college yard, from McLean Hall to the library. The fact
+that former denizens had left comfortable window-seats at each side
+casement was a never-failing source of satisfaction to the new occupant
+of what the landlady called the “parlor study.” In Allan’s case, it was
+study and bedroom too. Next year Allan meant to room in the Yard, and
+for the present he was very well satisfied.
+
+His occupancy of less than a month had not staled the pleasure derived
+from knowing himself sole owner of all the apartment’s array of
+brand-new furniture, carpeting, and draperies. To-night, after he had
+lighted all four of the burners in the gilded chandelier above the
+table, he paused with the charred match in hand and looked about him
+with satisfaction.
+
+The carpet was beautifully crimson, the draperies at the windows were
+equally resplendent, if more variegated in hue, the big study-table
+shone richly and reflected the light in its polished top, and the more
+familiar objects on the mantel and on the dark walls, accumulations of
+his school years, seemed to return his gaze with friendly interest.
+To-night, with the knowledge of his victory on the track adding new
+glamour to the scene, it seemed to Allan that his first year of college
+life was destined to be very happy and splendid.
+
+He stayed only long enough to change collar and cuffs, and then, with a
+boy’s cheerful disregard of economy, left the four lights flaring and
+hurried across Main Street to Brown Hall and dinner.
+
+The afternoon’s work had put a sharp edge on his appetite, and, having
+nodded to one or two acquaintances, he lost no time in addressing
+himself to the agreeable task of causing the total disappearance of
+a plate of soup. His preoccupation gives us an excellent opportunity
+to make a critical survey of him without laying ourselves open to the
+charge of impoliteness.
+
+Allan Ware was eighteen years old, a straight, lithe lad, with rather
+rebellious brown hair and a face still showing the summer’s tan. His
+features were not perfect by any means, but they were all good, and
+if you would not have thought of calling the face handsome, you would
+nevertheless have liked it on the instant. There was a clearness and
+steadiness about the brown eyes, a gentleness about the mouth, and a
+firmness about the chin which all combined to render the countenance
+attractive and singularly wholesome. It was a face with which one would
+never think of associating meanness. And yet to jump to the conclusion
+that Allan had never done a mean act would have been rash; he was only
+an average boy, and as human as any of them.
+
+Allan had come up to Erskine from Hillton without heralding; he was
+not a star football player, a brilliant baseball man, nor a famous
+athlete; he had always run in the distances at the preparatory school
+principally because he liked running and not because he believed
+himself cut out for a record breaker. His afternoon’s performance had
+been as much of a surprise to him as to any. At Hillton he had been
+rather popular among his set, but he had never attempted to become a
+leader. His classmates had gone to other colleges--many to Harvard and
+Yale, a few to Columbia and Princeton, only one to Erskine. Allan had
+chosen the latter college to please his mother; his own inclinations
+had been toward Yale, for Allan had lived all his life in New Haven,
+and was blue all through.
+
+But Allan’s grandfather had gone to Erskine--his name was one of those
+engraved on the twin tablets in the chapel transept, tablets sacred to
+the memories of those sons of Erskine who had given their lives in the
+struggle for the preservation of the Union--and Allan’s father had gone
+there, too. Allan couldn’t remember very much about his father--the
+latter had died when the boy was ten years old--but he sympathized with
+his mother’s wish that he also should receive his education under the
+elms of Centerport.
+
+His family was not any too well supplied with wealth, but his mother’s
+tastes were simple and her wants few, and there had always been enough
+money forthcoming for the needs of his sister Dorothy, two years his
+junior, and for himself. If there had been any sacrifices at home, he
+had never known of them. At Hillton he had had about everything he
+wanted--his tastes were never extravagant--and the subject of money had
+never occupied his thoughts. At eighteen, if one is normal, there are
+heaps of things far more interesting than money. One of them is dinner.
+
+Allan was much interested in dinner to-night. He even found it
+necessary to indulge in a couple of “extras,” in order to satisfy
+a very healthy appetite. For these he signed with an impressive
+flourish. When the last spoonful of ice-cream had disappeared he
+pushed back his chair and went out. In the coat-room he found a
+dark-complexioned and heavily built youth in the act of drawing on a
+pair of overshoes.
+
+“Couldn’t find my boots,” explained Hal Smiths, “so I put these over my
+slippers. Wait a minute and I’ll go along.”
+
+They left the hall together and walked briskly toward Main Street.
+Allan and Hal Smiths had never been particularly intimate at Hillton,
+but as they were the only two fellows from that school in the freshman
+class, they had naturally enough felt drawn toward each other since
+they had reached Erskine. During the last week, however, Hal had been
+making friends fast, and as a consequence Allan had seen less of him.
+Hal had quite a reputation, gained during his last year at Hillton, as
+a full-back, and he was generally conceded to be certain of making the
+freshman football team, if not the varsity second. To-night Hal was
+full of football matters, and Allan let him talk on uninterruptedly
+until they had reached the corner. There:
+
+“Come on down and play some pool,” suggested Hal.
+
+But Allan shook his head. He liked pool, but with a condition in
+mathematics to work off it behooved him to do some studying.
+
+“I’ll play some other night,” he said. And then: “Say, Hal,” he asked,
+“do you know a chap in our class named Burley?”
+
+“Pete Burley? Yes; what about him?”
+
+“Oh, nothing. What’s he like?”
+
+“Like an elephant,” answered Hal, disgustedly. “A big brute of a chap
+from Texas or Montana or somewhere out that way.” Hal’s ideas of the
+West were rather vague. “Met him the other day; struck me as a big
+idiot. Well, see you to-morrow.”
+
+Hal swung off down Main Street and Allan turned toward his room,
+feeling quite virtuous for that he had resisted temptation in the shape
+of pool and was going home to toil. When he opened his door a sheet of
+paper torn from a blue-book fluttered to the floor. There was a pin in
+it and it had evidently been impaled on the door. Allan held it to the
+light and saw in big round, boyish characters the inscription:
+
+“PETE BURLEY.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+ON THE CINDERS
+
+
+On the following Monday, Allan set out after his three-o’clock
+recitation for Erskine Field. He stopped at his room long enough to
+leave his books and get his mail--the Sunday letter from home usually
+put in its appearance on Monday afternoon--and then went on out Poplar
+Street.
+
+It was a fine, mild afternoon, with the sunlight sifting down through
+the branches of the giant elms which line the way, and a suggestion of
+Indian summer in the air. If he hadn’t been so busy with his letter he
+could have found plenty to interest him on the walk to the field, but,
+as it was, he was deeply concerned with the news from home.
+
+There was talk, his mother wrote, of closing down the Gold Beetle mine
+out in Colorado, from which distant enterprise the greater part of
+her income had long been derived in the shape of dividends on a large
+amount of stock; the gold-bearing ore had given out and the directors
+were to consider the course to pursue at a meeting in December.
+Meanwhile, his mother explained, the work had stopped, and so had
+the dividends, and she didn’t like to consider what would happen if
+this source of income was shut off for all time. Allan tried to feel
+regretful over the matter, since his mother was clearly worried--more
+worried than she was willing to show, had he but known it--but the Gold
+Beetle was a long way off, it always had supplied them with money,
+and the idea that it was now to cease doing so seemed something quite
+preposterous. The Gold Beetle represented the family fortune, about all
+that remained after his father’s affairs had been settled.
+
+Allan found other news more to his liking: Dorothy was getting on
+nicely at her new boarding-school and had survived the initial period
+of tragic homesickness; one of Allan’s friends at Hillton, now a Yale
+freshman, had called at the house a few days before; and Edith Cinnamon
+had presented the household with a litter of three lovely kittens.
+Edith Cinnamon was the cat, Allan’s particular pet, and the news of the
+interesting event remained in his mind after the reprehensible conduct
+of the Gold Beetle mine had departed from it. Mines stand merely for
+money, but kittens are pets, and Allan loved pets. A wonderful idea
+struck him: why not have his mother send him one of the kittens? He
+resolved to confer with Mrs. Purdy on his return; surely she would have
+no objections to his obtaining a room-mate to share the “parlor study”
+with him!
+
+When he had changed his clothes for a running costume in the locker
+house and reached the track he found fully half a score of fellows
+before him. There was Hooker jogging around the back-stretch; nearer
+at hand was Harris practising starts; in a group at the finish of the
+hurdles he saw Stearns, the track-team captain, Rindgely, several
+fellows whose faces he knew but whose names were unknown to him, and
+Billy Kernahan. He drew aside to let a file of runners by and then
+approached the group. Rindgely nodded to him slightly, not with any
+suggestion of unfriendliness, but rather in the manner of one who has
+never been properly introduced. Billy accompanied his salutation with a
+critical survey of the half-clothed figure confronting him.
+
+“How are you feeling to-day?” he asked.
+
+“Fine, thanks!” answered Allan.
+
+“That’s the boy! We’ll try you at three-quarters of a mile after a
+while. You’d better get warmed up, and then try half a dozen starts.”
+
+While the trainer was speaking, Allan was aware of the fact that Walter
+Stearns was observing him with evident interest. When Billy ceased,
+Stearns said something to him in low tones, and the next moment Allan
+found himself being introduced to the track-team captain. Stearns was
+rather under than above medium height, with small features and alert
+eyes of a steel-gray shade that contrasted oddly with his black hair.
+Below his white trunks his legs were thin and muscular, and under the
+faded purple sweater his chest proved itself broad and deep. He spoke
+rapidly, as though his tongue had learned the secret of his legs and
+was given to dashes rather than to sustained efforts.
+
+“Glad to know you, Ware,” he said, as he shook hands. “Glad you’re
+coming out to help us.”
+
+“I don’t believe I’ll be much help,” answered Allan.
+
+“Oh, yes; bound to. I saw you run in the handicaps. That was a mighty
+pretty race you made. By the way, do you know Mr. Long? And this is
+Mr. Monroe. And Mr. Mason. Keep in with Mason. He’s office-boy on the
+Purple and writes criticisms of the track team.”
+
+Allan shook hands with the three, while the group laughed at Stearns’s
+fling at the managing editor of the college weekly. Long was a
+startlingly tall fellow, with a crooked nose and twinkling, yellowish
+eyes, and Monroe was short and thick-set, and looked ill-tempered.
+Mason, Allan recognized as one of a half-dozen men whom he had seen
+about college and as to whose identity he had been curious. Mason was
+the sort of fellow that attracts attention: tall, broad-shouldered,
+with shrewd, kindly eyes behind glasses and a firm mouth under a
+straight and sensitive nose. He looked very much the gentleman, and
+Allan was glad to make his acquaintance. He was in the dark as to what
+position Mason really occupied on the Purple, and so the point of
+Stearns’s joke was lost on him. But he smiled, nevertheless, having
+learned that it is sometimes well to assume knowledge when one hasn’t
+it.
+
+“See you again,” said Stearns. The others nodded with various degrees
+of friendliness and Allan took himself off. The track was in good
+condition to-day and held the spikes firmly. Allan jogged up and down
+the stretch a few times, trying his muscles, which on Saturday had felt
+a bit stiff after the mile run, and lifting his knees high. Then he
+started around the track. Half-way around he drew up behind Hooker.
+
+“Hello!” said the latter. “Nice day, isn’t it?”
+
+Allan agreed that it was, and the two went on together to the turn.
+There Hooker turned up the straightaway.
+
+“Going to try starts?” he asked. “Let’s go up to the end there.”
+
+Allan couldn’t see the necessity for becoming proficient in the
+crouching start until Hooker explained as they returned from a brief
+dash, in which the younger lad had been left wofully far behind.
+
+“Sometimes,” said Hooker, “you’ll want the pole at the start, and if
+you’re placed two or three places away from it, you won’t get it from a
+stand, you see. But if you use the crouch and get away quick, you have
+a pretty good show of getting ahead of the men who have the inside of
+you. Let’s try it again. You give the signal this time.”
+
+After ten minutes of it, Allan picked up his sweater and followed
+Hooker down the track to report to Kernahan. The football men had
+taken possession of the gridiron by this time, Long and others were
+practising at the high jump, and altogether the field looked very busy.
+
+“You and Ware try three laps,” said the trainer to Hooker. “Watch your
+form, now, and never mind about your time. I’ll attend to that for you.
+Take turn about at the pacing; you take the first lap, Hooker. Want to
+get into this, Larry?”
+
+Rindgely nodded and peeled off his sweater. The others had to trot
+about for a minute or two while Rindgely stretched his muscles. Then
+the three got on to the mark, Billy gave the word, and they started
+off at an easy pace, Hooker in the lead, Allan next, and Rindgely in
+the rear. All three hugged the rim of the track and settled down into
+their pace. On the back-stretch they had to slow down once to avoid a
+group of football substitutes who were crossing the cinders, and once
+Rindgely was forced to leap over a ball that came bouncing out onto the
+track, and was much incensed about it. Hooker’s pace was wonderfully
+steady, but Allan thought it rather slow. At the mark Billy told them
+to “hit it up a bit now,” and Hooker slowed down, letting Allan into
+the lead.
+
+Allan increased the pace considerably. This time there were no
+interruptions, and they neared the end of the second lap fresh and
+untired. Kernahan glanced up from his watch as they sped by.
+
+“All right!” he shouted. “Get up there, Larry, and hold that pace.”
+
+Rindgely took the lead. As they commenced the turn Allan’s gaze,
+wandering a second from the front, lighted upon a tall, wide-shouldered
+and somewhat uncouth figure at the edge of the track. Strange to say,
+the figure nodded its head at him and waved a hand, and as Allan went
+by there came a stentorian cry of encouragement that might have been
+heard half across the field:
+
+“Chase ’em down, Freshman! Give ’em fits!”
+
+Allan bit his lips angrily as he sped on. What business had that big
+chump yelling at him like that when he didn’t even know him? Pretty
+fresh, that’s what it was! Allan hadn’t made the acquaintances of so
+many fellows but that he could remember them, and he was quite sure
+that he had never met the big chap who had yelled. But at the same
+time there had been something familiar about the fellow’s voice--too
+familiar, thought Allan with a grudging smile--and he wondered who he
+might be and why he had singled him out for his unwelcome attentions.
+Then the incident passed for the time out of his mind, for the last
+turn was almost at hand and Rindgely was increasing the pace.
+
+Allan began to feel it at the turn, and when they swung into the
+home-stretch and the pace, instead of settling down to a steady finish,
+grew faster and faster, he came to the unwelcome conclusion that he
+was not in the same class with the other two. Rindgely, in spite of
+all Allan could do, lengthened the space between them. Hooker, seeing
+that Allan was out of it, passed him fifty yards from the mark and
+strove to overhaul the leader. But Rindgely was never headed, and
+finished several yards in front of Hooker and at least thirty ahead of
+Allan. When they turned and jogged back to the trainer, the latter was
+slipping his watch into his pocket.
+
+“What’s the good of doing that, Larry?” he asked, disgustedly. “That
+wasn’t a race.”
+
+“Oh, I just wanted to liven it up a bit,” answered Rindgely, grinning.
+“What time did I make, Billy?”
+
+“I didn’t take you,” answered the trainer, shortly. “That’s enough for
+to-day.”
+
+Allan turned away with the others, but Billy called him back.
+
+“What was the matter?” he asked. “Pace too hot for you?”
+
+“I suppose so; I couldn’t stand that spurt.”
+
+“Well, that was some of Larry’s nonsense; he’d no business cutting up
+tricks.” He was silent a moment, looking across to where the second
+eleven was trying vainly to keep the varsity from pushing over her
+goal-line. Then, “Ever try the two miles?” he asked. Allan shook his
+head.
+
+“I don’t believe I’d be any good at it,” he answered. “Not that I’m
+any good at the mile, either,” he added, somewhat discouraged at the
+outcome of the trial.
+
+“What’s the best you ever did at the mile?”
+
+“About four minutes forty-five seconds.”
+
+“You did it inside of forty, Friday.”
+
+“I did?” Allan looked his surprise. “Oh, but I ran a hundred and twenty
+yards short.”
+
+“I allowed for that,” answered Billy, quietly. “Now, look here,
+Ware; you’ve got it in you all right, but you don’t make the most of
+yourself. You let your feet drag back badly, and you’ve been trying
+after too long a stride. You make that shorter by six inches and you’ll
+cut off another second after a while. And to-morrow I’ll show you what
+I mean about the stride. There’s plenty of time before the dual meet
+in the spring, and by then we’ll have you doing things right. The only
+thing is,” he added, thoughtfully, “whether you wouldn’t do better at
+the two miles. What do you think?”
+
+“I really don’t know,” answered Allan, doubtfully, “but I’d like to try
+it.”
+
+“Well, there’s lots of time. The indoor meet in Boston comes along in
+February; we’ll have you in shape for that, and you can go in for the
+mile and the two miles. Meanwhile, you’d better come out with the other
+men while the decent weather lasts.”
+
+“Do you think I can make the team?” Allan asked, hopefully.
+
+“Easy; but they don’t take new men on till after the trials in the
+spring.”
+
+“Oh!” said Allan, a trifle disappointed.
+
+“Don’t let that bother you,” advised the trainer. “You’re as good as
+on it now. You make the most of the fall training, Ware, and keep fit
+during the winter. I’d go in for hockey or something. Ever play hockey?”
+
+“Yes, but I can’t skate well enough.”
+
+“Well, get plenty of outdoor exercise of some sort this winter; don’t
+let the weather keep you indoors.”
+
+“All right, I’ll remember.” Allan’s gaze wandered toward the locker
+building. Half-way across the field a big figure was ambling toward the
+gate, hands in pockets. Allan turned quickly to the trainer. “Do you
+know who that fellow is?” Kernahan’s gaze followed his. After a moment:
+
+“That’s a freshman named Burley. Know him?”
+
+“No; I just wondered who he was,” Allan replied.
+
+“And I don’t want to know him,” he muttered, irritably, as he trotted
+off to the locker house.
+
+But Fate seldom consults our inclinations.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+HAL HAS AN IDEA
+
+
+It seemed to Allan during the next few days that the bulky form of
+Peter Burley was bent upon haunting him. On Tuesday morning, in
+English, he was aware of Burley’s presence a few rows behind him;
+when he looked around, it was to encounter the big fellow’s smiling
+regard. There was really nothing offensive in that smile; it was merely
+one of intense friendliness, quite unconventional in its intensity,
+but it irritated Allan greatly. Why couldn’t Burley let him alone?
+Just because he had kept him from falling and lugged him to the
+dressing-tent, he seemed to have an idea that Allan was his especial
+property. And then the cheek of scrawling his silly name on a fellow’s
+door! And yelling like a three-ply idiot at the track!
+
+Perhaps the fact that Burley, whoever and whatever he was, was markedly
+popular rather increased Allan’s prejudice. Wherever Burley sat in
+class there was invariably a good deal of subdued noise and laughter,
+and when he left the hall it was always as the center of a small
+circle of fellows, above which Burley towered head and shoulders.
+Secretly, Allan envied Burley’s success with his fellows, but in
+conversation with Smiths he dubbed Burley a mountebank. Hal was visibly
+impressed with the word and used it unflaggingly the rest of the year.
+
+Wednesday, Burley was again on the field, but this time he made no
+remarks as Allan passed him on the track; merely smiled and nodded with
+his offensive familiarity and then turned his attention to the football
+practise. As usual, he was the center of a group, and after Allan had
+passed the turn he heard their laughter and wondered if Burley had
+selected him as a butt for his silly jokes. After that Allan saw him
+at least once a day until on the following Wednesday night, when the
+freshman election took place in Grace Hall, and Burley leaped into even
+greater, and to Allan more offensive, prominence.
+
+There were two leading candidates for the presidency, and, contrary
+to the usual custom, the opposing forces had failed to arrange a
+compromise and a distribution of offices. The contest was prolonged
+and exciting. On the ninth ballot, Mordaunt, a St. Mathias fellow, won
+amidst the howls of the opposition. The rival candidate was elected
+secretary, but promptly and somewhat heatedly declined. New nominations
+were called for, and Burley was proposed simultaneously from two
+sides of the room. His name met with loud applause. Burley, sitting
+unconcernedly near the door, grinned his appreciation of the joke. Two
+other names were offered, and then the balloting began. On the first
+ballot, Peter Burley, of Blackwater, Col., was elected.
+
+Burley tried to get on to his feet to refuse the honor, but owing to
+the fact that three companions held him down while the chairman rapped
+wildly for order, he failed to gain recognition. The next moment the
+election was made unanimous. Allan grunted his disapproval. Hal said it
+didn’t much matter who was secretary; anybody could be that.
+
+Hal accompanied Allan back to the latter’s room and stayed until late,
+talking most of the time about his chances of making the varsity squad,
+what he was going to do if he didn’t, and how he didn’t give a rap
+anyway.
+
+“Of course, I can make the freshman team all right, but what’s that?
+They have only four outside games scheduled, and two of those don’t
+amount to anything; just high schools. The only game they go away for
+is the one with Dexter. And this thing of working hard for a month to
+play the Robinson freshmen isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.”
+
+“Who will win?” asked Allan, suppressing a yawn.
+
+“That’s the trouble. It’s more’n likely that Robinson will. We’ve got
+a lot of good men--fast backs and a mighty brainy little quarter--but
+we haven’t got any support for our center. Cheesman’s a wonder, but he
+can’t do much with guards like Murray and Kirk beside him. Why, Kirk
+doesn’t weigh a hundred and seventy, and Murray’s only a hundred and
+eighty-something. Poor is going to issue another call for candidates;
+he’s going to ask every man of a hundred and seventy-five or over to
+come out. Say!”
+
+Hal sat up suddenly in the Morris chair and looked like a Great
+Discoverer.
+
+“Say what?” murmured Allan, drowsily.
+
+“What’s the matter with that man Burley?”
+
+“A good deal, I should say, if you ask me,” answered Allan.
+
+“I mean for a guard,” said Smiths, impatiently.
+
+“He probably never saw a football,” objected Allan. “They don’t play it
+out West, do they?”
+
+“Don’t they, though! Look at Michigan and Wisconsin and--and the rest
+of them!”
+
+“I refuse.”
+
+“Why, Burley’s just the man! He must weigh two hundred if he weighs a
+pound!”
+
+“Looks as though he might weigh a ton. But if he doesn’t know the
+game----”
+
+“How do you know he doesn’t?”
+
+“I don’t. But if he did know it, wouldn’t he have been out before this?”
+
+Smiths was silenced for a moment.
+
+“Well, even if he doesn’t know it, he can be taught, I guess. And we’ve
+got a whole lot of science now; what we need is beef.”
+
+“Burley looks more like an ass than a cow,” said Allan, disagreeably.
+Smiths stared.
+
+“Say, what’s he done to you, anyway? You seem to be beastly sore on
+him.”
+
+“I’ve told you what he’s done.”
+
+“Oh, that! Besides, he lugged you off the track; that’s nothing to get
+mad about, is it?”
+
+“I suppose not; I’m not mad about that--or anything else. He just--just
+makes me tired.”
+
+“Well, I’ll bet he’s our man.” Smiths jumped up and seized his cap.
+“I’ll run over and tell Poor.”
+
+“What, at this time of night?”
+
+“Pshaw! it’s only eleven-thirty. He’ll be glad to know about it.”
+
+“He’ll probably pitch you down-stairs, and serve you right.”
+
+“Not much he won’t. Good night.”
+
+“Good night,” answered Allan. “I’ve got some surgeon’s plaster, if you
+need it.”
+
+Hal Smiths slammed the door and took the front porch in one leap. Then
+the gate crashed. Allan listened intently.
+
+“That’s funny!” he muttered. “He must have missed the lamp-post!”
+
+He took up a book, found a pencil, and opened the table-drawer in
+search of a pad. As he did so, his eyes fell on a folded sheet of lined
+paper. He read the penciled words on it--“Peter Burley”--and, refolding
+it after a moment of indecision, tucked it back in a corner of the
+drawer, frowning deeply the while.
+
+Allan didn’t see Hal the next day; neither was the objectionable Burley
+visible on the field in the afternoon when Allan ran his first practise
+over the mile. Kernahan didn’t hold the watch on him, the distance was
+unfamiliar to him, and he lost all idea of his time after the fourth
+lap, and ended pretty well tuckered out.
+
+“All right,” said the trainer, when it was over. “You ran it a bit too
+fast at the start. But you’ll get onto it after a while.”
+
+On Friday Allan saw Hal only for an instant and had no chance to
+question him as to the result of his midnight visit to the freshman
+football captain. Consequently, it was not until Saturday that
+he learned of Burley’s appearance on the field as a candidate for
+admission into the freshman team. There was no track work that
+afternoon, since the Erskine varsity played State University. Allan
+went out to the field alone and watched the game from the season-ticket
+holders’ stand, and cheered quite madly when the Erskine quarter-back,
+availing himself for the first time of the new rules, seemed to pass
+the ball to a trio of plunging backs, and after an instant of delay set
+off almost alone around State’s left end with the pigskin cuddled in
+his arm, and flew down the field for over seventy yards to a touch-down.
+
+That settled the score for the first half, and the teams trotted off
+with honors even. There was a good deal of dissatisfaction expressed in
+Allan’s neighborhood over the playing of the home team, and much gloomy
+prophecy was indulged in in regard to the outcome of the final and
+most important game of the season--that with Erskine’s old-time rival,
+Robinson University.
+
+About the middle of the intermission, Allan heard his name called, and
+looked down to see a small, sandy-haired fellow waving a note-book
+at him. Allan waved back, and the owner of the note-book--the latter
+his never-absent badge of office--climbed up the seats and was duly
+pummeled and laid hold of on his way. Tommy Sweet was a Hillton
+fellow, and considering that he had been a class ahead of Allan at
+that school, the two had been quite friendly there until Sweet had
+gone up to Erskine. So far Allan had not seen much of him, for Tommy
+was “on the Purple,” as he liked to put it, and was an extremely busy
+youth. Tommy’s friends declared he would find something to do if he was
+strapped in bed.
+
+The key-note of Tommy was eagerness. His wide-open blue eyes were
+always staring about the world in search for something to engage his
+attention, and his ridiculously small mouth was forever pursed into
+something between a grin and an exclamation-point. His hair was just
+the color of tow, and the freckles which covered every available
+portion of his face were several shades darker, but harmonized
+perfectly. He was tireless in the search for news for the Purple, and
+when it came to activity would have made the proverbial ant or beaver
+look like a sluggard. Tommy thought sleep a criminal waste of time, and
+even begrudged the moments spent in eating.
+
+Tommy was only perfectly happy when doing four things at once; less
+than four left him dull and dissatisfied. Clarke Mason once said:
+“I’ll bet some day Tommy will commit second-degree murder so they’ll
+give him hard labor for life.” For the rest he was a cheerful, likable
+fellow, aggressively honest and painfully conscientious.
+
+“What did you think of that run of Cutler’s?” he asked, breathlessly,
+as he sank onto the seat at Allan’s side. “Peach, wasn’t it? It’ll
+show up great in the diagram I’m making; see!” He opened his note-book
+and exhibited a puzzling maze of lines and dots, figures and letters.
+“That’s the first half. Everything’s there--runs, kicks, plunges,
+penalties, the whole show.”
+
+“What’s it for?” asked Allan. “Anything to do with geometry?”
+
+“Why, no; it’s-- Oh, quit your kidding! It’s to go with my report of
+the game. It shows how the gains were made and who made ’em. And I’ve
+introduced something new in diagrams, too. See these figures along the
+edge here--4:17, 4:22, and so on?”
+
+“Well, I see something there, I think,” answered Allan, cautiously.
+
+“Those signify the time each play was made,” said Tommy, triumphantly.
+“That’s never been done before, you know.”
+
+“I see. But it must keep you pretty busy. Do you have to write the game
+up, too?”
+
+“Oh, yes.” Tommy showed three or four pages of awful-looking scrawls
+from a fountain-pen. “That’s done in a sort of shorthand, and I write
+it out full length at the office. Say, where did you tell me your
+room was? I meant to put it down, but forgot it. Purdy’s? Oh, yes; I
+know where that is. I want to come around some evening, if I can ever
+find the time. How are you getting on? Anything I can do for you? Any
+fellows you’d like to meet? No? Well, let me know if I can do anything
+for you. Very glad to, you know. That was quite a race you made the
+other day. Billy seems to have taken a fancy to you, doesn’t he? He’s
+all right, Allan; you shine up to him and-- Hello! there’s a fellow I
+want to see. Come and see me, will you? Twenty-two Sesson, you know. So
+long, old chap!”
+
+Tommy hurried pell-mell down the stand, shaking off detaining hands,
+and disappeared into the throng. Allan took a long breath; he felt as
+though a small hurricane had been playing with him. The teams came onto
+the field again and the second half began. It proved uninteresting,
+and only the superior weight of the Erskine eleven won them the game
+finally by the close margin of a safety. Allan followed the throng out
+of the enclosure and across toward the locker house and the gate. But
+half-way there the crowd divided, and Allan presently found himself
+looking on at the practise of the freshman teams. The first team had
+the ball on the second’s five-yard line and was trying very hard
+to put it over to an accompaniment of command and entreaty from the
+coaches.
+
+“Third down and two to go!” some one shouted. A shrill voice called a
+jumble of figures and a tandem slid forward at a tangent, and for an
+instant confusion reigned. Then suddenly a roar of laughter went up,
+the line of watchers broke forward, and Allan found himself directly
+in the path of what at first glance looked like an avalanche of canvas
+and leather. Springing back, he escaped being borne along by the
+group of struggling players, in the center of which, rising like a
+city sky-scraper out of a huddle of shanties, stood forth, calm and
+determined, the countenance of Peter Burley.
+
+In his arms, struggling but helpless, was the first eleven’s left
+half-back, and to his back and legs and, in short, to every portion
+of his anatomy, hung the enemy, for all the world like bees on a nest
+in swarming time. Behind them the second eleven pushed and shoved,
+and relentlessly the whole mass moved down the field. And somewhere,
+drowned by the laughter of the spectators and the despairing shrieks of
+“Down! Down!” from the abducted half-back, sounded feebly the referee’s
+whistle.
+
+One by one the impeditive players dropped away, and Burley’s
+triumphant advance toward the enemy’s goal was stopped by the referee
+and two coaches. Burley set down the half-back, in whose arms the
+pigskin was still clutched, but did not release his grasp until his
+obligations were hurriedly but clearly explained to him. Then he patted
+the half-back on the shoulder in a paternal manner and retraced his
+steps to the enthusiastic applause of the convulsed throng. The second
+team hugged as much of him as they could encompass and he smiled
+cheerfully, but was evidently still somewhat perplexed. The ball went
+to the second on her eight yards and the game continued, Burley, at
+right guard, looming head and shoulders above his companions.
+
+Allan watched the game for a few moments longer, and then continued his
+journey. Somehow the calm, inscrutable manner in which the big freshman
+had strode down the field in unquestioning obedience to what he had
+supposed to be his duty appealed to Allan. It had been awfully funny,
+and Allan smiled as he recalled it. But the incident had held for him
+something more than humor, just what he hardly knew; but whatever it
+was, and even though he would have found it difficult to give a name to
+it, it completely changed his feeling toward Burley. By the time he had
+reached Mrs. Purdy’s front gate, he was wondering whether Burley still
+desired his acquaintance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+“MR. PETER BURLEY, BLACKWATER, COL.”
+
+
+Hal Smiths dropped in after dinner that evening and Allan brought the
+conversation around to the subject of Burley, whose performance during
+practise had been the chief topic at the dinner-table.
+
+“Why, Poor was awfully pleased at my suggestion,” said Hal, “after I
+found him. It was after twelve then, and I’d chased half over college
+looking for him. He said he wasn’t very good at persuasion and thought
+Burley would require lots of it; so he asked me to see him. Poor’s a
+pretty good little chap, so I went. Burley was awfully decent. Said he
+had never played and had never even seen the game until he came here;
+said he hadn’t been able to find out what it was all about, but that if
+we wanted him to try it, why, of course, he would. Said he thought it
+looked like pretty good fun, and got me to sort of explain it a bit.
+One thing he wanted to know,” laughed Hal, “was whether you could hit a
+man if he didn’t have the ball.”
+
+“Well, he played it for all it was worth this afternoon,” said Allan,
+smiling. “You heard about it, didn’t you?”
+
+“No; what was it? I sat on the side line all afternoon, and waited to
+get a whack at State University. What did Burley do?”
+
+So Allan told him, and Hal laughed until the tears came.
+
+“Oh, he’s a genius, he is!” he said.
+
+After a minute of chuckling, he went on:
+
+“Look here, Allan, I think you’d rather like him if you got to know
+him. He’s--he’s rather a decent sort, after all. I didn’t take to him
+at first, of course, but--and I don’t say now that he’s the sort of
+chap you’d want to ask home and introduce to your people; he’s kind of
+free and easy, and you couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t drink the catsup
+out of the bottle or slap your governor on the back--but he’s--well,
+there’s something about him you can’t help liking,” he ended, with an
+apologetic tone.
+
+“Maybe I would,” answered Allan, pleasantly. Hal looked surprised.
+
+“He’s given up the class secretaryship, you know,” he announced.
+
+“Why?”
+
+“I don’t know for sure, but Poor says he told him it was because he
+didn’t think he’d be here much after the holidays.”
+
+“Where’s he going?” asked Allan.
+
+“Don’t know. Funny idea, to come to college for half a year. Maybe----”
+
+There were footsteps on the porch, the front portal opened with a
+crash, and an imperative knock sounded on the room door. Allan jumped
+to his feet. Could it be fire? he wondered, shooting a bewildered
+glance at Hal. He hurried to the door just as the hammering began
+again, more violently than before. Hal raised himself uneasily from the
+Morris chair, prepared for the worst. Allan called, “_Come in!_” and
+the door was flung open.
+
+Entered Tommy Sweet!
+
+“You thundering idiot!” bawled Hal. “I thought it was at least the
+Dean! You can make more-- Hello, Burley! Glad to see you.”
+
+“This is Mr. Burley, Allan,” Tommy was saying. “Brought him around
+’cause I wanted you to know each other. Mr. Ware--Mr. Burley.”
+
+Allan felt his hand enveloped in something large and warm and
+vise-like. He felt his fingers crushed together, thought he could hear
+the bones breaking--and still managed to smile painfully, but politely,
+the while. Then Burley had dropped his hand and was saying:
+
+“I’ve wanted to know you ever since I saw you win that running race
+the other day. Came around here and left a card on you, but I guess you
+didn’t find it.”
+
+Allan murmured his appreciation, but remained silent as to the “card.”
+
+“I told Sweet here that you’d win that race. Offered to bet him
+anything he liked. He wouldn’t bet, though.” Peter Burley took the
+chair proffered by Hal and carefully lowered himself into it.
+
+“They told me you carried me over to the tent,” said Allan. “Much
+obliged, I’m sure.”
+
+“Welcome,” answered the other, heartily. “You didn’t weigh anything to
+mention.”
+
+“Not as heavy as the freshman team, eh?” asked Tommy. Burley looked
+apologetically around the circle.
+
+“I suppose every one’s heard of that fool thing?” he asked.
+
+“Just about every one, I guess,” laughed Tommy.
+
+“That comes of trying to do something you don’t know how to do. This
+fellow Smiths here came around to my shack the other day and said the
+class wanted me to play football because I weigh some. Well, ginger! I
+didn’t know anything about the thing, and I told him so. But he would
+have it that I must play. And look what happens! I make a measly show
+of myself right out there on the range in front of the whole outfit!”
+
+“No harm done,” said Hal. “You did what you tried to.”
+
+“No, I didn’t. There was a little cuss there in a Derby hat wouldn’t
+let me. I was going to take that half-backed fellow down to the other
+end and throw him over the line. That’s what I was going to do. They
+didn’t tell me I had to slap him on the chest and butt him with my
+head.”
+
+“But, you see,” explained Allan, “he called ‘Down’ just when you began
+to lug him off.”
+
+“That’s what they said. I was supposed to let go of him when he said
+that, but I just thought he was throwing up the sponge and wanted me to
+let him down. If I’d known he could have spoiled it by yelling ‘Down,’
+I’d have held his mouth shut.”
+
+This summoned laughter, and Burley glanced around at the others in
+wide surprise. Allan felt surprise, too. Was Burley really quite
+so unsophisticated as he seemed, he wondered, or-- His glance met
+Burley’s. The big fellow’s right eyelid dropped slowly in a portentous
+wink. Allan smiled. His question was answered. While the others entered
+into an explanation and discussion of the rules and ethics of football,
+Allan studied the Westerner.
+
+Peter Burley looked to be, and was, twenty years of age. In form he was
+remarkably large; he was an inch over six feet tall, and weighed 203
+pounds. Nowhere about him was there evidence of unnecessary fat, but
+he was deep of chest and wide of shoulder and hips. His hands and feet
+were large, and the latter were encased in enormously heavy shoes.
+
+When it came to features, Burley was undeniably good-looking in a
+certain breezy, unconventional way. (Allan soon found that Burley’s
+breeziness and absence of convention were not confined to his looks.)
+Burley’s hair was brown, of no particular shade, and his eyes matched
+his hair. His nose was big and straight and his mouth well shaped. His
+cheeks were deeply tanned, but showed little color beneath. His usual
+expression was one of careless, whimsical good nature, but there was an
+earnest and kindly gleam in the brown eyes that lent character to the
+face. He talked with a drawl, and pronounced many words in a way quite
+novel to Allan. But--and this Allan discovered later--when occasion
+required, he was capable of delivering his remarks in a sharp, incisive
+way that made the words sound like rifle-shots. At the present moment
+he was talking with almost exaggerated deliberateness.
+
+“Sweet says you and he went to a preparatory school together,” he said,
+turning to Allan. “I wish my old man had sent me to one of those
+things. What was your school like?”
+
+Allan told him of Hillton, and Tommy and Hal chimed in from time to
+time and helped him along. It was a large subject and one they liked,
+and half an hour passed before they had finished. Burley listened with
+evident interest, and only interrupted occasionally to ask a question.
+
+“How’d you happen to come to Erskine?” asked Tommy, when the subject
+had been exhausted. Burley took one big knee into his hands and
+considered the question for a moment in silence.
+
+“Well, I’ll tell you,” he said at last. “You see, I had a go at
+the university over in Boulder; that’s near Denver,” he explained,
+parenthetically. “But we didn’t get on very well together, the faculty
+and me, and I was always turning up at the ranch. Well, the old man got
+tired of seeing me around so much; said he’d paid for my keep at the
+university, and I’d ought to stay there and get even with the game.
+But, ginger! the corral wasn’t big enough. Every time I’d try to be
+good, something would come along and happen, and--first thing I knew,
+I’d be roaming at large again. So the old man said he guessed what I
+needed was to get far enough away from home so I wouldn’t back-trail
+so often; said there wasn’t much doing when I went to college Monday
+morning and showed up for feed Thursday night. First he tried taking my
+railroad pass away; but when I couldn’t scare up the money, I rode home
+on a freight. I got to know the train crews on the D. & R. G. pretty
+well long toward spring. When vacation came, we all agreed to call
+it off--the faculty and the old man and me. So I went up to Rico and
+fooled around a mine there all summer. When----”
+
+“What was the name of the mine?” asked Allan, eagerly.
+
+“This one was the Indian Girl. There’s lots of ’em thereabouts. The old
+man----”
+
+“Say, is the ‘old man’ your father?” asked Tommy.
+
+“Yes; why?”
+
+“Nothing, only I should think he’d lick you if he heard you calling him
+that.”
+
+“Oh, he doesn’t mind. Besides, he isn’t really old; only about forty.
+He calls me Kid, too,” he added, smiling broadly. “Well, in the summer
+he wanted to know where I’d rather go to college--Yale, Harvard,
+Princeton, Pennsylvania; he said he didn’t care so long as it was
+far enough away to keep me from diggin’ out for home every week and
+presenting myself with vacations not down on the calendar. Well, there
+was a fellow up at the mine named Thompson; he was superintendent.
+I was helping him--or thought I was--and so we got to be pretty good
+friends. He was a nice little fellow, about as high as a sage-bush, and
+as plucky as a bulldog. Well, he went to college here about ten years
+ago, and he used to tell me a good deal about the place. So, when the
+old man said, ‘Which is it?’ I told him Erskine. He said he’d never
+heard tell of it, but so long as it was about two thousand miles from
+Blackwater he guessed it would do. And that’s how. Now you talk.”
+
+“That’s the first time I ever heard of choosing a college because it
+was a long way from home,” laughed Hal. “I’d like to meet that father
+of yours.”
+
+“Better go back with me Christmas,” said Burley. Hal stared at him
+doubtfully, undecided whether to laugh or not. “Of course,” continued
+Burley, carelessly, “we haven’t got much out there. It’s pretty much
+all alfalfa and sage-bush around Blackwater. But the hills aren’t far,
+and there’s good hunting up toward Routt. You fellows all better come;
+the old man would be pleased to have you.”
+
+Hal stared wide-eyed.
+
+“Aren’t you fooling?” he gasped.
+
+“Fooling?” Burley echoed. “Why, no, I ain’t fooling. What’s wrong?”
+
+“Nothing; but of course we couldn’t do it, you know; at least, I’m
+plumb sure I couldn’t.” Hal looked doubtfully at the others.
+
+“Nor I,” said Allan. “I only wish I could.”
+
+“Same here,” said Tommy, wistfully. “I’d give a heap to have the
+chance.”
+
+“Sorry,” answered Burley. “Perhaps in the summer, or some other time,
+when you haven’t got anything better. I suppose your folks want you at
+home Christmas?”
+
+“Y-yes,” replied Hal, “but it isn’t altogether that; there’s the
+expense, you see.”
+
+“Oh, it wouldn’t cost you anything much,” said Burley. “It’s all on me.
+You’d better say you’ll come.”
+
+Hal’s eyes opened wider than before.
+
+“You mean you’d pay our fares--all our fares--out to Colorado and
+back?” he asked.
+
+“Sure. We’d only have about a week out there, but we could do a lot of
+damage in a week.”
+
+Hal was silent from amazement. Allan stammered his thanks. Tommy merely
+sat and stared at Burley, as though fascinated. The latter translated
+silence into assent.
+
+“Well, we’ll call it fixed, eh?” he asked, heartily.
+
+“Thunder, no!” exploded Hal. “We couldn’t do that, Burley. We’re
+awfully much obliged, but, of course, if we went out there to visit
+you, we’d pay our own way. And I don’t believe any of us could do
+that--this Christmas, at least.”
+
+“Oh, be good!” said Burley. “Now, look here; I’d let you do that much
+for me.”
+
+“But we couldn’t,” said Allan.
+
+“Well, you would if you could, of course; wouldn’t you, now?”
+
+“Why--er--I suppose we would,” Allan faltered.
+
+“Well, there you are!” said Burley, triumphantly. “That settles it.”
+
+It took the others some time to prove to him that it didn’t settle it,
+and Burley listened with polite, but disapproving, attention. When the
+argument was concluded, he shook his head sorrowfully.
+
+“You’re a lot of Indians!” he said. “You’re not doing the square thing
+by me, and I’m going to pull my freight.” He drew himself out of the
+chair and rescued his big felt hat from beneath it. There was a general
+pushing back of chairs. “You and Mr. Ware must come around to my tepee
+some night soon,” Burley told Hal, “and we’ll have another pow-wow.
+Seems like I’d done all the chinning to-night.” He shook hands with
+Allan, who strove to bear the pain with fortitude and only grimaced
+once, and said in quite a matter-of-fact way, “I guess you and I are
+going to be partners. Good night.”
+
+Allan muttered that he hoped so, and after the three visitors had taken
+their departures he examined his hand under the light to see if bruises
+or dislocations were visible.
+
+“I wonder,” he asked himself, with a rueful smile, “if he shakes hands
+very often with his partners?”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+“RIGHT GUARD BACK!”
+
+
+November started in with an Indian summer, but by the middle of the
+month the spell had broken, and a week of hard, driving rain succeeded
+the bright weather. Until then Allan had spent almost every afternoon
+on the cinder-track, running the half mile at good speed, doing the
+mile and a half inside his time, occasionally practising sprinting,
+and, once a week, jogging around until he had left nine laps behind him
+and had covered a quarter of a mile over his distance.
+
+For by this time Kernahan had decided that the two-mile event was what
+he was cut out for, but promised him, nevertheless, that at the indoor
+athletic meeting, in February, he should be allowed to try both the
+mile and the two miles. The trainer’s instruction had already bettered
+Allan’s form; his stride had lost in length and gained in speed and
+grace until it became a subject for admiring comment among the fellows.
+
+The Purple, in an article on Fall Work of the Track Team Candidates,
+hailed “Ware ’07” as “a most promising runner, and one who has
+improved rapidly in form since the Fall Handicaps until at present he
+easily leads the distance men in that feature. It is Mr. Kernahan’s
+intention,” concluded the Purple, “to develop Ware as a two-miler,
+since this year, as in several years past, there is a dearth of
+first-class material for this distance.”
+
+But the rains put an end to the track work, as they put an end to all
+outdoor activities save football, and training was practically dropped
+by the candidates. On three occasions, when the clouds temporarily
+ceased emptying themselves onto a sodden earth, the middle and long
+distance candidates were sent on cross-country jogs and straggled home
+at dusk, very wet and muddy, and much out of temper. A week before
+Thanksgiving the sky became less gloomy and a sharp frost froze the
+earth till it rang like metal underfoot.
+
+It was on one such day, a Saturday, that the Robinson freshman football
+team came to town and, headed by a brass band, marched out to the
+field to do battle with the Erskine youngsters. The varsity team had
+journeyed from home to play Artmouth, and consequently the freshman
+contest drew the entire college and town, and enthusiasm reigned
+supreme in spite of the fact that a Robinson victory was acknowledged
+to be a foregone conclusion.
+
+Allan and Tommy Sweet watched the game from the side lines; Tommy, with
+note-book in hand, darting hither and thither from one point of vantage
+to another, and Allan vainly striving to keep up with him. The latter
+had gained admission beyond the ropes by posing as Tommy’s assistant;
+the assistance rendered consisted principally of listening to Tommy’s
+breathless comment on the game.
+
+“Oh, rotten!” Tommy would snarl. “Two yards more!... Oh; perfectly
+rotten!... See that pass? See it? What? Eh, what?... Now, watch this!
+Watch-- What’d I say? Good work, Seven!... Now, that’s playing!...
+Third down and one to-- What’s that? Lost it? Lost nothing! Why,
+look where the ball is! How can they have lost-- Hey! how’s that for
+off-side? Just watch that Robinson left end; look! See that?... Three
+yards right through the center! What was Burley doing?... Well, here
+goes for a touch-down. There’s no help now!... Another yard!... Two
+more!... Did they make it? Did they?... _Hi-i-i! Our ball!_”
+
+It was a very pretty game, after all, and when the first half ended
+with the score only 5 to 0, in the visitors’ favor, Erskine’s hope
+revived, and during the intermission there was much talk of tying
+the score, while some few extremely optimistic watchers hinted at
+an Erskine victory. Considering the fact that the purple-clad team
+was twelve pounds lighter than its opponent, this was a good deal to
+expect, and Tommy, a fair example of conservative opinion, declared
+that the best he looked for was to have the second half end with
+the score as it then stood. But a good many guesses went wrong that
+afternoon.
+
+Erskine had played on the defensive during the first half, and when,
+after receiving Robinson’s kick-off, she punted the ball without trying
+to run it back, it seemed that she was continuing her former tactics.
+The punt was a good one and was caught on Robinson’s thirty-yard line.
+The Brown accepted the challenge and returned the kick. It went to
+Erskine’s forty-five yards. Again Poor punted, and the ball sailed down
+to the Brown’s fifteen yards, where it was gathered into a half-back’s
+arms. Erskine had gained largely in the two exchanges of punts, and her
+supporters cheered loudly, while Robinson, realizing discretion to be
+the better part of valor, refrained from further kicking and ran the
+ball back ten yards before she was downed.
+
+And then, as in the first period of play, she began to advance the
+pigskin by fierce plunges at the Erskine line. But now there was a
+perceptible difference in results, a difference recognized by the
+spectators after the first two attacks. Robinson wasn’t making much
+headway. Twice she barely made her distance; the third time she failed
+by six inches and, amidst cheering plainly heard on the campus, Erskine
+took the ball on her opponent’s twenty-five yards. The first plunge
+netted a bare yard, yet it carried the ball out of the checker-board,
+and a line-man dropped back. Tommy set up a shout.
+
+“It’s Burley! They’re going to play him back of the line!”
+
+There was no doubt about it’s being Burley. He loomed far above the
+rest of the backs, and even when, his hands on the full-back’s hips, he
+doubled himself up for the charge, he was still the biggest object on
+the field. The stands danced with delight.
+
+So far there had been no hint of the big right guard taking part in the
+tandem attacks; in fact, his presence on the team was doubtful until
+the last moment, for Burley’s development as a football player had been
+discouragingly slow, in spite of his weight and strength and cheerful
+willingness. Even yet he possessed only a partial understanding of the
+game. He did what he was told to do, and did it as hard as he knew
+how; that constituted the extent of his science. The stands composed
+themselves, and breathless suspense reigned. Poor’s shrill pipe was
+heard reeling off the signals, and then--
+
+Then the advance began.
+
+Robinson had played hard every moment of the first thirty-five minutes,
+and she had played on the offensive. Erskine had played hard too, but
+her playing had been defensive. To attack is more tiring than to repel
+attack, and now what difference there was in condition was in Erskine’s
+favor. Her defensive tactics were suddenly abandoned, and from that
+moment to the final whistle she forced the fighting every instant of
+the time.
+
+Peter Burley was, to use Tommy’s broken, breathless words, “simply
+great.” He knew little or nothing about line-plunging. He didn’t do any
+of the things coaches instruct backs to do. He merely waded into and
+through the opponents, without bothering his head with the niceties
+of play. If the hole was there, well and good; he went through it and
+emerged on the other side with half the Robinson team clinging to
+him. If the hole wasn’t there, well and good again; he went through
+just the same, only he didn’t go so far. But there was always a good
+gain--sometimes a yard, sometimes two, sometimes three or four.
+
+When the whistle blew, Burley climbed to his feet and ambled back to
+his position, unruffled and unheeding of the bruises that fell to his
+share. Nine plunges brought the ball to Robinson’s five yards. There
+the Brown line held for an instant. The first down netted a bare yard,
+the second brought scarcely as much. The cheering, which had been
+continuous from the first attack, died down, and a great silence fell.
+Tommy was nibbling the corner off his note-book, and Allan, kneeling
+beside him, was nervously biting his lip. Poor drew Burley and the
+backs aside for a whispered consultation. Then the players took their
+positions again, and--
+
+Presto! Erskine had scored!
+
+Without signals, the tandem had plunged onto the Robinson left tackle,
+Burley’s leather head-guard had been seen for an instant tossing
+high above a struggling mass, and then had disappeared, and chaos
+had reigned until the referee’s whistle commanded a cessation of
+hostilities. When the piled-up mass was removed, Burley was found
+serenely hugging the ball to his chest a yard over the line.
+
+While the stands cavorted and cheered, Poor kicked the goal. Erskine
+was already victorious, and Robinson’s youngsters seemed to realize
+the fact. For, though they fought valiantly and doggedly for twenty
+minutes longer, it was evident that they no longer looked for victory.
+With every repulse their defense grew perceptibly weaker, while their
+rivals, as though they had husbanded their strength until now, made
+each attack fiercer than the one before, until in the last ten minutes
+of the contest they simply drove the Brown before them at will. Long
+before the game was at an end the stands began to empty; there was
+small pleasure in seeing a defeated enemy humbled. When the final
+whistle blew, the score stood 17 to 5, and Peter Burley, breathing hard
+through bleeding and swollen lips, said “he guessed he was ready to
+have his oats and be bedded down.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+“THE RANCH”
+
+
+It is human nature to dwell at length upon our successes and dismiss
+our failures with a word. The writer has given a chapter to the
+freshman game, but he is going to tell the story of the varsity
+contest, which occurred a week later, in a paragraph.
+
+Robinson won in a clean, hard-fought game--11 to 0. Her rival never
+approached a score in either half, but by the grimmest sort of
+defensive work she managed to keep the final figures down to half of
+what they might have been had she gone to pieces for an instant. Hal
+played a brilliant game at full-back in that contest, and proved his
+right to the position. Thus the football season at Erskine ended in
+decisive defeat. It was an honorable defeat, to be sure; but, since at
+Erskine, as at other colleges in this country, they play more for the
+sake of winning than for love of the game, there were doleful faces
+a-plenty, and on Sunday the college had the appearance of a place
+smitten with the plague.
+
+But Monday morning came and brought recitations and lectures, just as
+though there was no such thing as football, and the college settled
+back into the usual routine. At noon the sting of defeat was forgotten.
+At night, fellows were cheerfully discussing the chances for the next
+year. If we take defeat too hard, at least we recover quickly; there is
+hope for us in that.
+
+Allan, for all that he was quite as patriotic as any, felt the defeat
+of the varsity team less than he did the cessation of track work. The
+latter left him at first feeling like a fish out of water. Tommy Sweet
+suggested that he might rig up a treadmill in his room and run to his
+heart’s content, like a squirrel in a wire cage. But Tommy wouldn’t
+promise to feed him all the peanuts he could eat, and so Allan refused
+to try the scheme. Instead, he spent much of his time out-of-doors and
+took long walks and runs out along the river or struck off westward to
+Millport.
+
+On many of these excursions he was accompanied by Peter Burley.
+Peter--or more properly Pete, since that was the name he declared to
+be the proper one--Pete couldn’t be persuaded to do any running, but
+he was willing to walk any distance and in any direction, seeming to
+care very little whether he ever got back to Centerport or didn’t. And
+as his long legs took him over the ground about as fast as Allan could
+jog, the latter never suffered for want of exercise while in Pete’s
+company.
+
+The friendship between the two had grown rapidly, until now Pete’s
+prophecy that they were to be “partners” had come true. The more
+Allan saw of the older boy the more he found to like, but just what
+the qualities were which drew him to Pete he would have found it hard
+to tell. The latter’s never-failing good-nature was undoubtedly one
+of them, but that alone was not accountable. Perhaps Pete would have
+experienced quite as much difficulty had he been called upon to say why
+he had been attracted by Allan the first time he had seen him, or why
+he had perseveringly sought his friendship ever since. The two were
+radically dissimilar, but even that isn’t sufficient to explain why
+each was attracted toward the other. Come to think of it, however, I
+don’t believe either Allan or Pete troubled himself about the problem,
+and so why should we?
+
+Pete’s sudden leap into fame consequent upon his work against Robinson
+in the freshman game had left him unaffected. He had become a college
+hero in an hour, but none could see that it ever made any difference
+to him. He brushed congratulation aside good-naturedly and ridiculed
+praise.
+
+“Stop your fool talk!” he would say. “I didn’t rope any steers. It was
+that little jack-rabbit, Poor, that whooped things up and won the
+game. I didn’t do a thing but shove ’em round some.” And when it was
+hinted that the shoving around was what brought victory, “Get out!” he
+would growl. “Science is what does the business, and I don’t know the
+first thing about the game.”
+
+And so, while Peter was worshiped by the freshman class and very
+generally respected by the others, he wasn’t at all the popular
+conception of a college hero. And there were three fellows, at least,
+who liked him all the better for it.
+
+Those three were Allan, Tommy, and Hal. Since that first meeting in
+Allan’s room, the four had been much together. Tommy showed up at the
+gatherings less frequently than any one of the others, for Tommy, in
+his own words, “had a lot of mighty difficult stunts to do.”
+
+Sometimes the quartet met in Allan’s room, sometimes in Hal’s, less
+frequently in Tommy’s--for Tommy lived up two flights of stairs in
+McLean Hall, and Pete had a horror of climbing stairs. The only
+climbing he liked, he said, was climbing into a saddle. That was why he
+often found fault with his own apartments.
+
+These were on the second floor of a plain clap-boarded building at
+the corner of Town Lane and Center Street, with the railroad but a
+few hundred feet distant and the fire-house next door. Pete declared
+he liked the noise, and could never study so well as when the
+switch-engine was shunting cars to and fro at the end of the lane or
+the fire-bell was clanging an infrequent alarm. As few ever saw him
+studying, the statement sounded plausible.
+
+The ground floor of the building was occupied by a dealer in harness
+and leather; the third floor consisted of an empty loft. Across the
+lane--and the lane wasn’t wide enough to boast of--was a livery stable.
+On the opposite corner was a carriage repair-shop and warehouse. A few
+doors below was a wheelwright’s. The upper floors of the neighboring
+structures were occupied by carpenters, plumbers, roofers, and masons.
+
+Through Pete’s windows, which were invariably open, be the weather what
+it might, floated in a strange and penetrating aroma--a mingled bouquet
+of coal-smoke from the railroad, of the odor of pine-shavings from the
+carpenter shops, of the pungent smell of leather from below, and of the
+fragrance from the stable across the street. Pete said it was healthful
+and satisfying. None disputed the latter quality. Pete’s rooms--there
+were two of them--were quite as unique as his surroundings.
+
+Picture a bare, plank-ceiled loft, some forty feet long by twenty feet
+broad, divided in the exact center by a partition of half-inch matched
+boards and lighted by five windows. Imagine the walls and ceiling
+painted a pea-green, mentally hang two big oil-lamps--one in the middle
+of each room--from the latter, and spread half a dozen skins--bear,
+coyote, antelope, and cougar--over the discolored floor, and you
+have Pete’s apartments. There was a door in the partition, but as it
+wouldn’t close, owing to inequalities in the casing, it was always open.
+
+The furniture, of which there was very little, represented Centerport’s
+best: there was a “golden-oak” bureau, a “Flemish-oak” easy chair, a
+“Chippendale” card-table--I am employing the dealer’s language--an
+iron bedstead, a “mahogany” study table, a sprinkling of brightly
+upholstered, straight-backed chairs, and a few other pieces, equally
+highly polished and equally disturbing to the esthetic eye.
+
+The walls were almost, but not quite, bare. Pete didn’t care for
+pictures, but on nails driven at haphazard hung a silver-mounted
+bridle, a rawhide lariat, a villainous-looking pair of Mexican
+wheel-spurs, a leather-banded sombrero, a cartridge-belt and holster,
+the latter holding a revolver, a leather quirt, and an Indian war-drum,
+while over the bedstead in the back room the head of a grizzly bear
+perpetually resented intrusion with snarling lips. The head of a
+mountain-sheep held a place of honor in the other apartment, and
+underneath it hung a Navajo Indian blanket, almost worth its weight in
+gold.
+
+There were only two objects that might have been set down in an
+inventory as pictures: one was an advertising calendar and the other a
+photograph of Pete’s mother, who had died soon after Pete’s advent in
+the world. The photograph shared the top of the dazzling yellow bureau
+with Pete’s brushes and shaving utensils.
+
+In a corner of the front room was a trunk, covered with a yellow and
+red saddle-blanket. Against it leaned two guns--a battered Winchester
+carbine and a handsome two-barreled 12-gauge shot-gun. In another
+corner, as though thrown there the moment before, lay a brown leather
+stock saddle, with big hooded stirrups. The card-table held Pete’s
+smoking things--two corn-cob pipes, a small sack of granulated tobacco,
+and an ash-tray. The tobacco usually distributed itself over the table
+and the ashes always blew onto the floor.
+
+In bright weather, the sunlight streamed in through three of the five
+windows and crossed the rooms in golden shafts, wherein the dust
+atoms danced and swirled. With the sunlight came the sounds of the
+neighborhood--the clang of the blacksmith’s sledge against the anvil,
+the screech of the carpenter’s plane, the steady _tap_, _tap_, _tap_ of
+the harness-maker’s hammer, the stamping of horses’ hoofs, the clamor
+of passing trains, and the chatter of the loiterers below the windows.
+Pete called the front room the “corral,” the rear room the “stable,”
+the whole the “Ranch.”
+
+If I have risked tiring the reader with too long a description of
+Pete’s dwelling-place, it is because, in spite of their strange
+furnishings and hideous green walls, the rooms were far more homelike
+than many a smart suite in Grace Hall, and, to quote Tommy again,
+were “Pete through and through.” Further, while Allan’s, Hal’s, and
+Tommy’s rooms sometimes served as meeting-places for the four, the
+chambers over the harness-shop were their favorite resort. There was
+an undeniable charm about them; and if you could prevail upon Pete to
+close a few of the windows in cold weather, and if you didn’t mind
+sitting upon the tables and the trunk, you could be very comfy at the
+Ranch.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+PETE’S CLUB TABLE
+
+
+On the Monday night succeeding the Robinson game the quartet was
+assembled in Pete’s study. Allan had the easy chair, Hal and Tommy
+shared the big table, and Pete sat on the trunk. The windows were
+closed, for the night was cold, and the big hanging lamp diffused
+light, warmth, and a strong odor of kerosene through the apartment.
+This odor Pete was heroically striving to mitigate with the fumes of
+a cob pipe. Hal had tried the other pipe, but had soon given it up,
+avowing discontentedly that Pete ought to keep some real tobacco on
+hand for guests who weren’t used to chopped hay. The bell in College
+Hall had just struck nine, and Tommy, for the fourth time, had slid
+from the table, pleading press of business, and had been pulled back by
+Hal.
+
+“Forget your old business, Tommy,” said Hal.
+
+“Don’t let him sneak,” said Pete. “We’re going to open a can of corn in
+a minute.”
+
+“That’s all very well,” Tommy protested, “but I’ve got things to do.
+You lazy chaps, who never study----”
+
+Dismal groans from the opposition.
+
+“Can afford to loaf; but I want to tell you----”
+
+“Of course you do, Tommy,” Allan interrupted, soothingly, “but we don’t
+want you to. Be calm, precious youth; the Purp” (college slang for the
+Purple) “will come out just the same, whether you continue to adorn
+that desk for another ten minutes or not.”
+
+“Why don’t you fellows let a couple of weeks go by without putting out
+a paper?” asked Pete. “No one would notice it, and think what a high
+old time you could all have being useful for once.”
+
+“Wish we could,” sighed Tommy.
+
+“Tommy, you’re a wicked liar!” said Hal. “You don’t wish anything
+of the sort. If you missed an issue of that old sheet, you’d commit
+suicide in some awful manner; maybe you’d come down here and die of
+smells.”
+
+“If you’d only put something in it,” said Pete, “something a fellow
+could read and enjoy--a murder now and then, or a lynching. Couldn’t
+you run a story with lots of blood? It’s such a dismal paper, Tommy.”
+
+“You fellows might jump into the river,” suggested Tommy, scathingly.
+“We’d print your obits.”
+
+“Our which?” Hal asked.
+
+“Obits--obituaries,” he explained in a superior manner.
+
+“Would you put ’em on the fir?” asked Peter.
+
+“On the fir? What’s the fir?”
+
+“Fir--first page.” Pete mimicked Tommy’s tone.
+
+“No,” said Tommy, when the laughter had stopped, “not important enough.”
+
+“Crushed and lifeless!” murmured Allan.
+
+“Tommy,” asked Pete, severely, “do you mean that I’m not enough of a
+heavy-weight to be dishonored by having my name on the front page of
+that old up-country weekly of yours?”
+
+“The front page is for important news,” said Tommy, with a wicked smile.
+
+“Such as measles in the grammar school and the election of Greaves as
+president of the Chess Club,” explained Hal.
+
+“Now, I’ll tell you what I’ll do with you, Thomas,” said Pete. “I’ll
+bet you anything from an old hat to a quarter section of land that I
+can get my name and a half a column of talkee-talkee on the first page
+of the Erskine Purple any time I want to. Now, what say, Thomas?”
+
+“I’ll bet you can’t,” laughed the other.
+
+“What’ll you bet? Money talks, my son.”
+
+“Oh, most anything. If you want your name on the front page of the
+Purple, you’ll have to do some tall stunts.”
+
+“Of course, that’s what I mean: kill the Dean, or blow up College Hall,
+or have a fit in chapel.”
+
+“Or subscribe for the paper,” added Allan.
+
+“Come, Tommy, speak up. What will you bet?”
+
+“Oh, get out, you wild Indian! I’m going home.”
+
+He made another effort to tear himself away.
+
+“Tommy, you’re a coyote: you’re skeered an’ afeared. You know I’d win.”
+
+“Oh, no, I’m not,” said Tommy. “I’ll bet a dinner for the four of us at
+the Elm Tree that you can’t get your name on the front page while I’m
+on the paper-- Hold on, though; I won’t bet that. I’ll bet you won’t
+get it there this year unless it’s merely the name, as a member of a
+society, or as having attended a meeting, or something like that, you
+know.”
+
+“Thomas, you’re hedging,” said Pete, “but I’ll take your bet. And just
+my name isn’t to count; nothing less than a full paragraph to myself
+goes. You fellows are witnesses.”
+
+“We are,” said Allan. “I smell that dinner already.”
+
+“And you see Pete paying the bill,” said Tommy.
+
+“I don’t know who pays, and I don’t care.”
+
+“He cares not who pays for his dinner, so long as he may eat it,” said
+Hal. “Wise child, Allan. And, by the way, talking of eating reminds me.
+You know Billy Greb, Allan?”
+
+“I’m going home,” said Tommy.
+
+“(Shut up and sit down, Tommy!) Billy’s getting up a freshman club
+table and wants you and me to join. What do you say?”
+
+“Where’s it going to be?”
+
+“Pearson’s.”
+
+“How much?”
+
+“Six a week.”
+
+“That’s pretty steep, Hal. Besides, I may go to the track-team table in
+the spring.”
+
+“I’m going home, you fellows,” announced Tommy again.
+
+“Will you please shut up?” asked Hal. “Well, you’d better join until
+then, Allan; sufficient to the spring is the evil thereof.”
+
+“Well, I’ll think it over and let you know in a day or two. When does
+Greb want to start it?”
+
+“First of the month. If you weren’t a foolish little sophomore, Tommy,
+you could come in too.”
+
+“Huh!” answered Tommy, scathingly. “I’ve seen all I want of freshman
+club tables. I’m going----”
+
+“How about me, Hal?” asked Pete. “I’d like to join, if your friend will
+have me.”
+
+Hal hesitated for an instant.
+
+“Why--er--I’ll speak to him about it. But I think he’s got his number
+made up.”
+
+“That’s all right,” answered Pete, quietly.
+
+“But I’ll do my best,” said Hal, hurriedly and awkwardly. “Maybe----”
+
+“Call it off!” said Pete, with a cavernous yawn.
+
+“If it was my table--” continued Hal, anxious not to hurt the other’s
+feelings.
+
+“I know. _That’s_ all right. I can stand it.”
+
+There was the sound of a gently closing door.
+
+“Hello!” Pete exclaimed. “Where’s Tommy?”
+
+The three glanced in surprise around the room. Then--
+
+“I think,” said Allan, dryly, “I _think_ I heard him say something
+about going home.”
+
+The next afternoon Pete found Allan at the gymnasium, and walked back
+to Mrs. Purdy’s with him. He was so quiet that Allan was certain he had
+something on his mind. What that something was transpired when they had
+reached Allan’s room.
+
+“What sort of a cayuse--meaning gentleman--is this fellow Greb?” asked
+Pete.
+
+“I don’t know him very well,” Allan replied, “but I fancy he thinks
+himself a bit of a swell. He’s a Dunlap Hall fellow, and of course you
+know what that means.”
+
+“Never heard tell of it,” said Pete. “What is it--a preparatory school?”
+
+“Yes, it’s-- Oh, it’s all right, of course, only we used to make a good
+deal of fun of it at Hillton. You go there when you’re nine or ten,
+and they give you a sort of a governess to look after you until you
+get old enough to make her life a burden; then they put you in another
+house. They’re terribly English, you know; have forms and fagging; and
+when you want a row with a chap, you have to notify the captain of your
+form, and it’s all arranged for you like a regular duel, and you go
+out back of one of the buildings, and somebody holds your coat for you
+and somebody else mops your face with a sponge, and you try and hit
+the other fellow in the eye. It’s like a second edition of Tom Brown.
+Think of getting mad with a chap in the morning and having to wait
+until afternoon to whack him! There’s no fun in that. You’d like as not
+want to beg his pardon and buy him a ‘Sunday’! But they think they’re a
+pretty elegant lot, just the same.”
+
+“Think of that!” sighed Pete. “And I might have gone there, if I’d
+known, and had a nurse and all the scrapping I wanted. So this fellow
+Greb thinks he’s the whole thing, does he? Guess that’s the reason Hal
+was hunting a hole when I asked myself to join. I didn’t know you were
+so mighty choice about who you ate with. Out there we ask whoever comes
+along. I guess you fellows thought I was loco, didn’t you?”
+
+“Thought you were what?”
+
+“Why, crazy, inviting myself like that.”
+
+“Nonsense, Pete; we all understood. There was no harm done. It’s just
+that Greb wants to get up a table of fellows he knows.”
+
+“Does he know you?”
+
+“Why--er--I’ve met him, of course.”
+
+“And he could have met me if he’d wanted to, couldn’t he?”
+
+“I suppose he could, but he doesn’t know about you.”
+
+“Wouldn’t care to, I guess.”
+
+“Oh, nonsense, Pete; you’re making a lot out of nothing.”
+
+“Dare say he thinks I eat in my shirt-sleeves and swallow my knife,”
+continued Pete, gloomily. “Maybe he thinks I live on horned toads and
+grasshoppers.”
+
+“But, I tell you, he doesn’t know you.”
+
+“I guess he’s heard of me,” answered Pete. “Guess he knew you and Hal
+and I were traveling together.”
+
+“Look here, Pete; if you want to join a club table----”
+
+“Oh, _that’s_ all right. Moocha wano club table.”
+
+“Oh, all right,” answered Allan, a bit puzzled.
+
+“I’m going to join a club table on the 1st,” said Pete.
+
+“Oh!” said Allan, again. “What--that is, whose is it?”
+
+“Pete Burley’s.”
+
+“What! How--how do you mean?”
+
+“Mean I’m going to run my own grub-wagon. And I want you to join.”
+
+“But-- Look here, Pete, I don’t believe you can find a decent place to
+take you. Everything’s full up already.”
+
+“Where is there a decent place?” asked Pete, calmly.
+
+“Well, there’s Pearson’s, of course, but you couldn’t get in there.
+And----”
+
+“Why couldn’t I?”
+
+“Because she takes training tables chiefly, and is pretty particular,
+anyhow.”
+
+“Yes, that’s what she told me,” said Pete.
+
+“Then you went there?”
+
+Pete nodded.
+
+“I could have told you you wouldn’t get in there. There’s a pretty good
+place further along----”
+
+“Oh, _that’s_ all right. We start on the 1st.”
+
+“Start where?”
+
+“Mrs. Pearson’s.”
+
+“Pete, you’re lying!” gasped Allan.
+
+“No, straight talk. I engaged the front corner room on the second
+floor. It’s a right nice-looking place: paper on the walls, fireplace,
+lounge, window-seat----”
+
+“But--but how’d you do it?”
+
+“Oh, _that’s_ all right. We had a little pow-wow. It’s going to be six
+a week and no extras.”
+
+“You crazy Westerner!” said Allan, in bewildered admiration. Then, “But
+you haven’t got any one to join, have you?”
+
+“Not yet; but _that’ll_ be all right. It’s going to be select, you
+know; eight in all. There’ll be you and me, that’s two; and Hal----”
+
+“I don’t believe he’ll come,” said Allan, doubtfully. “You see, Pete,
+he’s promised Greb.”
+
+“I don’t guess Greb will have a table,” said Pete.
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“Well, where’s he going to put it?”
+
+Allan stared. Then----
+
+“Do you mean that you’ve got Greb’s room?” he exclaimed.
+
+“’Twa’n’t his,” answered Pete, coolly. “He hadn’t settled the matter,
+and so I said I’d take it and put down a forfeit. And there isn’t
+another decent place for a high-toned, pedigreed chap like him to go
+to.”
+
+“Pete Burley, you’re a wonder!” breathed Allan.
+
+“Think Hal will join?” asked Pete, unmoved by the tribute. Allan nodded
+silently.
+
+“That’ll make three, then. Now, of course, I know lots of fellows who
+would come in if I asked ’em, but, as I just said, this thing is going
+to be select; it’s going to be the selectest table in town. So you tell
+me who are the top of the bunch in our class, and I’ll go and fetch ’em
+in if I have to rope ’em and hog-tie ’em.” Pete took out a pencil and
+began to write on the back of an envelope.
+
+“Of course, it’s all poppycock,” said Allan, “but--well, there’s
+What’s-his-name, the class president, and Maitland, and Poor----”
+
+“Whoo-ee! I’m glad you thought of Poor.”
+
+“And Armstrong--only he lives at home, I think--and Mays, and Wolcott,
+and--and Cooper--Cooper of St. Eustace, I mean; the other chap’s an
+awful duffer--and Van Sciver----”
+
+“Whoa, Bill! That’s eight--eleven, counting us three; guess I can get
+enough out of the list. Besides, I must ask Greb; mustn’t slight Greb.”
+
+“You’re not going to ask him?”
+
+“Ain’t I? Just you keep your eyes peeled and you’ll see.” He got up and
+carefully put the list in the big yellow leather wallet he carried.
+“Guess I’ll see a few of ’em this afternoon. Want to come along?”
+
+Allan shook his head vigorously.
+
+“Not me, Pete. I don’t want to have to testify against you before the
+faculty. How do I know what you’ll do to those chaps to make them join?”
+
+“Oh, say, Allan!” Pete turned at the gate. “Remember those ducks we saw
+on the river last week? Well, let’s go after ’em Thursday morning, will
+you?”
+
+“Shooting, you mean? I haven’t a gun.”
+
+“You take my shot-gun and I’ll use the rifle. I’ve shot ducks with a
+rifle before this.”
+
+“All right, Pete, but like as not the silly ducks won’t be there
+Thursday.”
+
+“Well, we’ll find something to shoot, all right, if it’s just
+squirrels. We’ll have nothing to do Thursday, and can stay as long as
+we like; make a day of it. Maybe we can find some place to have dinner
+and won’t have to come back here. I’m getting mighty tired of commons,
+Allan. Well, it’ll be considerable different when we get the table
+started, won’t it?”
+
+“I suppose so,” answered Allan.
+
+“Say, do you think Hal or Tommy would go along?”
+
+“Ducking? Tommy might, but Hal’s going to sign off and go home over
+Saturday.”
+
+“Lucky chap!” sighed Pete. “Wish I was.” He looked thoughtfully across
+the leaf-strewn college yard. “Suppose I could, but--guess the old man
+would raise Cain. Allan!”
+
+“Yep?”
+
+“I’d give a hundred dollars for sight of a mountain. Well, I must jog
+along.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE DUCK HUNT
+
+
+Thanksgiving Day dawned cloudy and still, with a hint of snow in the
+air. Allan slept late, in enjoyment of holiday privileges, and Pete was
+banging at his front window before he had finished dressing.
+
+They reached Brown Hall a bare two minutes before the doors closed,
+and hurried through a light breakfast. Ten o’clock found them walking
+briskly along the Morrisville road, some four miles from college,
+having crossed the river by the county bridge and turned to the left
+through the little town of Kirkplain, which is opposite Centerport.
+Allan wore a white sweater, over which he had pulled an old coat; the
+pockets of the latter were bulging with shells. Pete wore a canvas
+hunting-coat and carried his cartridges in a belt. The Winchester
+was slung over his shoulder, and altogether he made a formidable
+appearance. Allan had the shot-gun. Tommy had refused to accompany
+them, pleading, as ever, a press of business; Hal had taken himself off
+to the bosom of his family.
+
+So far they had seen nothing to shoot at save a red squirrel. Allan had
+impulsively sought to bring that down, but had failed for the excellent
+reason that he had forgotten to load. The squirrel had seemed to
+appreciate the humor of the incident and had chattered in their faces
+from the bough of a dead maple-tree. Allan had been glad afterward that
+the gun hadn’t gone off.
+
+The blunder reminded Pete of a parallel case in his own experience,
+and he had told it so well that Allan had been forced to sit on a
+rock in order to recover from his fit of laughter. This story led to
+others. Pete proved a perfect mine of interesting narratives on hunting
+adventure, some of them laughable, some of them so exciting that Allan
+forgot how heavy the shot-gun under his arm had become.
+
+When they struck the cross-roads, some three miles from Kirkplain, they
+were in the best of spirits. They took the road to the left, which
+leads down to the river and the ferry to Harwich. At the ferry they
+left beaten tracks and followed the river-bank.
+
+The travel was slower now, both because they had to break their way
+through underbrush, make detours around inlets, cross brooks, and climb
+an occasional fence, and because they were keeping their eyes open
+for game. Allan had never done much hunting, and he was becoming quite
+excited at the prospect.
+
+Pete led the way, forcing his big body through the bushes with scarce
+a sound, while Allan could make no progress without causing enough
+disturbance to frighten any self-respecting duck a mile distant. Pete
+seemed to realize this fact, for he frequently looked back at Allan
+with pursed lips and violent shakes of his head, and then glanced
+anxiously at the river. After a half mile of this, Pete stopped in a
+little clearing and leaned his rifle against a bush. Allan joined him,
+very much out of breath.
+
+“See anything?” he panted, hoarsely. Pete shook his head.
+
+A few yards away lay the river, sluggish and leaden under gray sky. At
+their backs the ground rose gently, and the reeds and bushes gave place
+to a thick growth of trees. A few rods further up-stream was a little
+promontory. Everything was very still save for the chirp of the birds
+in the woods and the infrequent screech of a locomotive-whistle from
+toward Centerport. Across the river and further down-stream the little
+hamlet of Harwich nestled under its leafless elms. Pete sat down and
+drew forth his corn-cob pipe.
+
+“Might as well take a rest,” he said. “Smoke?”
+
+“No, thanks.” Allan didn’t possess a pipe of his own, and wouldn’t
+have attempted Pete’s for a ten-dollar bill; the very smell of it
+frequently made him faint. Pete stuffed the blackened bowl full of dry
+tobacco and lighted it. Then he leaned back on one elbow and puffed
+contentedly for a moment. Allan nibbled the end of a grass-blade and
+stared across the empty stream.
+
+“This is about the place where we saw those birds the other day,” said
+Pete, finally. “Guess they’ve pulled their freight. Sorry!”
+
+“What’s the diff?” asked Allan. “We’ve had the walk. Besides, maybe
+we’ll find a gray squirrel if we go back through the woods.”
+
+“Anyhow, I don’t guess there’s any use going farther up the river. What
+time is it, I wonder? Did you bring your watch?”
+
+“Quarter of twelve,” said Allan. “Getting hungry?”
+
+“I could eat a saddle!” answered Pete. “Supposing we go back and take
+the ferry over to Harwich? Is there any place there we could get a
+feed?”
+
+“I don’t know, but I should think there ought to be. Got any money?”
+
+Pete sat up suddenly and searched his pockets.
+
+“Not a red!” he exclaimed. “I forgot to change.”
+
+“Same here,” said Allan, dolefully. Pete picked his pipe up from where
+it had fallen and relighted it. Then he threw himself onto his back,
+put one leg over the other knee, and chuckled.
+
+“I don’t think it’s so terribly funny,” said Allan, aggrievedly. “We
+can’t get home until three or four o’clock. Wish we’d had sense enough
+to bring lunch with us.”
+
+“Yes; a half dozen sandwiches and a piece of pie wouldn’t go so bad,
+would they? Nice thick sandwiches, with ham or beef inside, and lots of
+butter and mustard. And--what kind of pie do you like best, Allan?”
+
+“Oh, shut up, you!”
+
+“I like pumpkin--or, maybe, apple. Yes, apple’s pretty hard to beat.
+We’ll have apple; about three pieces each.”
+
+Allan groaned and threw a handful of dried grass into Pete’s face. Pete
+brushed it aside and went on:
+
+“When we get the table going, we’ll get Mother Pearson to give us
+apple-pie every night.”
+
+“Yes, when you do!” growled Allan.
+
+“Oh, _that’s_ all right, my son. Just because the only fellow I’ve
+found wouldn’t join, you needn’t think that table isn’t going to be.
+Hal’s going to introduce me to Maitland and Van Something----”
+
+“Van Sciver.”
+
+“If you say so. And Cooper; and I’ll bet you a bunch of cows I get that
+table filled up inside of a week. Want to bet?”
+
+“I don’t bet,” said Allan, aggravatingly. “Besides, if I were you, I’d
+go slow on betting until I’d paid for that dinner.”
+
+“What dinner?”
+
+“The one you wagered with Tommy.”
+
+“Ginger! I’d clean forgotten that. But _that’ll_ be all right.”
+
+“You’ll lose.”
+
+“Lose nothing! Just you hold your horses and keep your eye on your
+Uncle Pete. Let’s think what we’ll make Tommy order for us at that
+feed.”
+
+“Let’s go home and get something to eat,” said Allan, irritably.
+
+“Home? Not a bit of it! We’ll find a house and beg a Thanksgiving
+dinner, that’s what we’ll do. Saddle up and let’s mosey along.” He
+dropped his pipe into his pocket and got to his feet. “There’s bound to
+be a house somewhere’s about; look at how the woods have been cleared
+out here. Shouldn’t wonder if we found eight courses and a Hinglish
+butler.”
+
+“One course’ll do me,” groaned Allan, as he got up, “and I don’t care
+how coarse it is.”
+
+“We shot a man out in our county for making a joke like that, and he
+was a heap homelier than you-- _Listen!_”
+
+Allan listened. From beyond the little promontory came the unmistakable
+quack of a duck. Pete pumped a cartridge into the barrel of his carbine
+and tiptoed toward the shore. Allan seized his shot-gun, fell over a
+stone, and followed. Pete waved him back, and then returned.
+
+“They’re around that point. We’ve got to go mighty quiet; if we don’t,
+they’ll fly. Keep low until you get to the pebbles there, and then get
+down and crawl. Come on!”
+
+Allan followed, watching each footstep and trying not to breathe. A
+clump of trees came down almost to the water at the point, and hid
+what was beyond. But when Allan had, by painfully wriggling his body,
+stomach to earth, reached the little expanse of pebbled shore and
+Pete’s side, his heart leaped for joy. Before them was a little cove,
+and in it, peacefully moving about its surface, was a flock of ducks.
+How many there were, he couldn’t tell; there seemed dozens at first. He
+threw his gun to his shoulder and squinted along the barrel.
+
+“Hold on!” whispered Pete. “We’ll have to scare ’em up somehow.”
+
+“What for?” Allan whispered, anxiously.
+
+“You don’t shoot ducks in the water, you idiot!” answered Pete. “Here,
+I’ll raise ’em with this stone. Be ready and take ’em as they rise.
+Wait till you get two together, but shoot quick, and let ’em have both
+barrels.”
+
+He dug a small stone out of the sand and aiming at the middle of the
+flock, let drive. There was a sensation among the ducks, but not the
+panic Pete had looked for. They swam away from the spot where the
+stone sank, and made a good deal of fuss, but not a duck took wing.
+Pete grunted and threw another rock. The result was the same. The
+ducks discussed the matter volubly among themselves and swam around in
+circles, but they didn’t show any intention of flying away. Pete was
+disgusted.
+
+“I’m going to knock that old drake’s head off,” he whispered. “I guess
+that’ll bring ’em up. All ready?”
+
+Allan nodded, clutching his gun desperately and still squinting along
+the barrels. There was a loud report, then another, and a third. Two
+ducks floated quietly on the water. The others, with wild quacks of
+dismay, paddled to shore and disappeared into the bushes.
+
+“Well, of all crazy ducks!” ejaculated Pete, staring after them.
+
+“They--they didn’t fly!” said Allan, breathlessly.
+
+“Fly! Why, the things are clean locoed! They’re not ducks,
+they’re--they’re--_I_ don’t know what they are!”
+
+Pete stared about him in bewilderment.
+
+“They didn’t fly, and so I shot,” Allan explained.
+
+“And we only got two!” said Pete, disgustedly.
+
+“But they went up there,” said Allan. “Why can’t we go after them?”
+
+“And shoot ’em on land?” Pete shook his head slowly. “Allan, I’ve done
+fool things in my time, but I never shot ducks on land.”
+
+“I don’t see what difference it makes,” objected Allan.
+
+“Maybe not; maybe you’re used to crazy ducks. I’m not. I refuse to have
+further dealings with such--such freaks of nature. How we going to get
+those?” he asked, nodding at the dead birds.
+
+“We ought to have brought a dog.”
+
+“Or a rowboat. Well, here goes!” He sat down and took off his shoes and
+stockings. Then, with his trousers rolled up as far as they would go,
+he waded out into the water. Allan sat down on the bank and promised to
+rescue him if he went over his depth. Pete reached the first bird--it
+was the drake he had shot, and it lacked a head--and held it up. He
+studied it a moment, shaking his head slowly.
+
+“What’s the matter?” called Allan.
+
+“Oh, nothing; nothing at all. Only I never saw a duck like this before
+in my life!”
+
+“Why, what’s the matter with--” began Allan. Then the words stopped and
+he jumped to his feet.
+
+“Sorry you don’t approve of them,” said a voice behind him, “but
+they’re the best I’ve got!”
+
+[Illustration: “Sorry you don’t approve of them.”]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+DINNER FOR TWO
+
+
+The regret, politely expressed though it was, had the effect of a
+thunderbolt on both Allan and Pete, neither of whom had heard or seen
+anything to suggest the presence of a third person on the scene.
+Allan’s surprise was ludicrous enough, but the picture presented by
+Pete--mouth and eyes wide open and the headless duck held stiffly at
+arm’s length, his whole attitude suggesting that the icy water in which
+he stood had suddenly frozen him stiff--caused even the newcomer to
+smile a little under his mustache.
+
+The latter was a rather stout gentleman, of middle age, with
+ruddy cheeks, piercing dark eyes, and an expression of extreme
+self-possession. He wore a suit of rough gray tweed and leather
+leggings and carried a shot-gun. At his side, exhibiting two rows of
+very white teeth, stood a red and white setter. Allan liked neither
+the gun nor the dog, and envied Pete his chilly, but more distant,
+position. The newcomer glanced silently from Allan to Pete. It was the
+latter who found his voice first.
+
+“Those your ducks?” he asked.
+
+The man nodded. Pete looked again at the drake in his hand.
+
+“Oh!” he said.
+
+The dog growled and Allan observed that the man’s gun was cocked and
+that it was held in a position that was far from reassuring. Pete
+regarded the man with a puzzled expression.
+
+“Look here, partner,” he asked, “are those _tame_ ducks?”
+
+“They are, sir.”
+
+Pete’s face cleared; a grin overspread his features, and he chuckled
+aloud as he waded back to shore.
+
+“You seem amused?” said the man, politely but with a note of
+interrogation.
+
+“Well, I’m mighty relieved, as the broncho said when he bucked the man
+off. You see, I thought they were wild ducks, and when they wouldn’t
+fly, I was afraid they were degenerating. Of course, as they were tame
+ducks, it’s all right.” Pete waded out of the water and the setter laid
+back his ears and growled suspiciously. “Hello, dog!” said Pete, as he
+went toward where he had deposited his shoes, stockings, and rifle.
+
+“Just stay where you are, please!” said the man. He waved toward Pete’s
+possessions. The dog trotted over to them and stood guard, watching
+their owner intently. Pete’s grin broadened. He tossed down the duck he
+had rescued.
+
+“There’s another out there,” he said. “Guess the dog could get it,
+couldn’t he?”
+
+“Where do you gentlemen belong?” asked the man. The gentlemen exchanged
+glances. Then--
+
+“Centerport,” answered Allan.
+
+“Students?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Humph!” said the owner of the ducks. “Want me to believe you thought
+my ducks were wild ones, do you?”
+
+“You don’t suppose we’d walk six miles to shoot tame ones, do you?”
+asked Pete, scathingly. The man shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“I suppose you’re ready to pay for the pair you’ve shot?”
+
+“Glad to,” answered Pete. “How much?”
+
+“Well, I guess a dollar will do. They were both Pekins.”
+
+“Can’t say I’ve had a dollar’s worth of sport,” said Pete, “but here’s
+your money.” He put a hand into his trouser pocket. Then he stopped
+short and looked with dismay at Allan. The owner of the ducks waited
+silently.
+
+“Guess you’ll have to trust us, partner,” said Pete. “We both came
+away without any money.” Allan, fearing arrest would follow this
+announcement, held his breath. But the man only smiled courteously.
+
+“Very well,” he answered. “There is no hurry.”
+
+“Thanks!” said Pete. He looked inquiringly toward the dog. “How about
+my shoes and stockings? It’s a bit chilly.”
+
+“I fancy your walk back will warm you up,” said the man. Pete whistled.
+
+“Going to keep ’em for security, eh?” he asked. The other nodded
+gravely.
+
+“Couldn’t compromise, I suppose?” Pete insinuated. “That carbine’s
+worth a good bit more’n a dollar. It’s hard walking without any shoes.”
+
+“I dare say,” was the reply. “But maybe if you stub your toe a few
+times, it’ll remind you to find out whether a duck is domestic or wild
+before you shoot it.”
+
+“Look here, Mr. Whatever-your-name-is,” said Allan, explosively,
+“you’ll get your old dollar. We’re not thieves. But you’ve got to let
+him have his shoes and stockings.”
+
+“If I don’t?” asked the man, with a flicker of appreciation in his
+eyes.
+
+“Why--we’ll just take them, that’s all.”
+
+“I wonder if you could do it?” said the other, measuring the two with
+his eyes. “I almost believe you could.”
+
+“Well, then--” began Allan.
+
+“But of course you’d get damaged in the process,” continued the other,
+cheerfully. “Now, look here; you’ve killed my ducks, and it’s only
+right that you should pay for them. Isn’t that so?”
+
+“Yes; but if we have no money----”
+
+“That’s it,” was the answer. “It doesn’t seem probable that you two
+students would come six miles from college without any money. Where are
+you going to get your dinner?”
+
+“There isn’t going to be any dinner,” said Pete. “You can believe us or
+not, just as you like, and be hanged to you! If you’ll put down your
+gun, I’ll lick you.”
+
+“That’s an honest offer,” said the man, smiling outright for the first
+time, “but it isn’t just practical. I rather think you could do it, and
+I don’t see why I should be licked merely because you have killed my
+ducks. Do you?”
+
+“I guess that’s so, partner,” Pete answered. “But something’s got to be
+done. I can’t walk home without any shoes.”
+
+The man received this assertion in silence, glancing thoughtfully from
+Pete to the articles in discussion. The dog looked suspiciously from
+Pete to Allan. Allan scowled at the dog’s master. The latter spoke:
+
+“Here, Jack!”
+
+Jack went to him unwillingly. Pete picked up his shoes and stockings.
+
+“Thanks!” he said. Then he put them on. The man watched him smilingly.
+When the last lace was tied, Pete got up.
+
+“My name’s Burley,” he said. “I’ll come over with your money to-morrow
+or next day. Come on, Allan. Good day, sir.”
+
+“You’re forgetting your rifle,” said the man. Pete looked puzzled.
+Then--
+
+“Do I get that, too?” he asked.
+
+“Yes, you might as well take that along, I guess.” Pete went back and
+got it. “Where you going now?” asked the man.
+
+“Home,” said Pete.
+
+“But how about dinner?”
+
+“Well, maybe we’ll beg something to eat on the way. I guess there
+ain’t any place around here where they’d take a Winchester carbine
+as security for a Thanksgiving dinner, is there?” asked Pete, with a
+smile. The stranger answered the smile.
+
+“Hardly. But I tell you what you do. Strike straight up through the
+woods here over the hill till you come to a lane. Keep along that for
+a quarter of a mile until you come to a big brown house standing back
+from the lane. You go there and tell ’em you’re hungry, and you’ll get
+plenty to eat. Ask for Mr. Guild. Don’t forget, now; first house you
+come to. There isn’t another for a mile further, so you’d better follow
+my advice.”
+
+“Thanks!” said Pete. Allan echoed him.
+
+“All right,” said the man, smiling kindly. “Good morning, gentlemen.”
+
+“Good morning,” they answered. They started off through the woods in
+the direction he had indicated, but after a few yards Allan turned and
+looked back. The man, with the setter at heel, was moving along a path
+at right angles to them. He glanced up and waved his hand.
+
+“We’re sorry about the ducks,” called Allan.
+
+“That’s so,” Pete shouted.
+
+The man nodded good-naturedly. Then the trees hid him.
+
+Allan and Pete walked on in silence for a ways. Then--
+
+“Say, he wasn’t such a bad sort, was he?” asked Allan.
+
+“No, he’s all right. I don’t believe he was going to do any more than
+scare us, anyway. Guess he was just having some fun with us.”
+
+“Wasn’t it funny about the ducks being tame ones?” asked Allan,
+presently, as they left the woods, climbed over a stone wall, and
+struck off up a lane.
+
+“That’s a joke on me,” said Pete, laughing. “Ginger! How was I to know
+that folks left their old ducks floating around loose all over the
+country here? Out our way, when you see a duck in a lake or on the
+river, it’s a wild duck, and you just naturally go ahead and shoot it.
+That’s what bothered me--those fool ducks sitting there and letting
+me throw rocks at ’em. Next time-- Say, I guess that’s our ranch over
+there.”
+
+Allan’s gaze followed the other’s.
+
+A turn in the lane laid bare a broad expanse of lawn, interspersed with
+ornamental trees and shrubbery, beyond which stood a long, rambling
+house of brown-shingled walls and numerous red chimneys. Farther off
+were stables and barns. From the chimneys the smoke arose straight into
+the still air, suggesting warmth and good cheer. The boys paused and
+looked longingly across the lawn.
+
+“Shall we try it?” asked Allan.
+
+“Sure!” Pete said. “I’m so hungry I could eat cedar bark.”
+
+“But what will they think?” Allan demurred. “It isn’t as though it were
+a farmhouse, you know.”
+
+“_That’s_ all right; the sweller the folks the better the rations. Come
+on; let’s cut across here.”
+
+“We’ll just ask for some bread and a glass of milk,” suggested Allan.
+
+“Bread and milk? Ginger! I’ve got to have pie and hot coffee!”
+
+“But we’ll go to the back door, won’t we?”
+
+“Like tramps? Not a bit of it. We’ll go to the front. What was the name
+he told us?”
+
+“Guild.”
+
+“That’s right; Guild. Hello! look there; there’s another one of those
+setter dogs. Looks just like the beast the fellow back there had,
+doesn’t it?”
+
+But this dog only observed them indifferently from a respectful
+distance, and then trotted around the corner of the house as they
+mounted the broad steps, crossed a wide veranda, and pushed the ivory
+button beside the big oaken door. Allan strove to appear at ease, but
+in reality looked as though he had come to steal the family silver. A
+neatly-aproned maid opened the door.
+
+“Is Mr. Guild in?” asked Pete, with unruffled composure.
+
+“Yes, sir. Will you please walk in?” They followed her into a library,
+in which a wood fire was crackling merrily in the chimney-place. Allan
+felt like an impostor. Pete calmly selected the easiest chair and
+lowered himself into it with a deep sigh of contentment.
+
+“This is something like!” he said. “I’ll bet we’ll get two or three
+kinds of pie, Allan.”
+
+But Allan, sitting uncomfortably on the edge of a straight-backed
+chair, only smiled distressedly and listened to the footsteps coming
+nearer and nearer down the uncarpeted hall. The footsteps reached the
+door; Pete and Allan got to their feet as the door swung open.
+
+“Mr. Guild--” began Pete. Then he stopped short.
+
+Before them was the owner of the ducks!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE CAPSIZED BOAT
+
+
+Allan and Pete didn’t forget that day for a long time. In retrospect,
+it was the brightest one between the beginning of the college year and
+the Christmas recess. For long afterward Pete would point with pride to
+his performance at table on that day, and declare that he believed that
+should he live to be a hundred he could never eat as much again. Dinner
+began at two o’clock and ended, not because of lack of further viands
+but because of inability on the part of the guests, at half-past four.
+
+The family at Hillcrest consisted of Mr. Guild, his wife, a
+pleasant-faced and sweet-voiced woman several years his junior, and a
+three-year-old son and heir, who did not make his appearance at table
+but who was afterward ceremoniously introduced in the nursery. Both
+host and hostess appeared to have no other desire in life than to make
+the two guests happy and utterly ruin their digestions.
+
+Even Pete had had momentary qualms over appearing at table in the
+unconventional attire of shooting-coat and flannel shirt, but their
+objections had been politely overruled, and by the time the turkey had
+made its appearance they had both lost sight of the fact that they
+were not dressed in the mode. It was while carving the turkey that the
+morning’s episode was recalled.
+
+“This, Mr. Burley,” said their host, “is only turkey. Had there been
+more time, we would have had a duck prepared for you.”
+
+Allan wondered, while he laughed, whether Mrs. Guild had heard the
+story of the duck-hunt. The demure expression about her mouth led him
+to suspect that she had.
+
+After dinner they adjourned to the library again, and Pete was induced
+to smoke a cigar, although, as Allan guessed, he would much rather
+have used his corn-cob pipe. Mrs. Guild disappeared for a while, and
+Pete and Allan stretched themselves luxuriously in front of the fire
+and listened to their host and did a good deal of talking themselves.
+Mr. Guild led them to tell of their college life, and displayed such
+sympathy with their views and ambitions that at the end of an hour the
+two boys had become his enthusiastic admirers. He knew the West like a
+book, and Pete became quite excited--for Pete--swapping recollections
+and stories of “out there.”
+
+After a while Mrs. Guild appeared again, and they went into the
+drawing-room and sat silent and happy in the firelight while she
+played for them. She apologized for knowing no college songs, but Pete
+gallantly assured her that he preferred “straight music.” Still later
+there was a four-handed game of billiards in an upper hall, in which
+Mrs. Guild and Allan were badly defeated by the host and Pete. Then
+came the visit to the pink-hung nursery and the formal introductions
+to Master Thomas Guild, Junior. And by that time it was after eight
+o’clock, and a surrey stood at the door, waiting to bear them back to
+Centerport.
+
+“You must come out some afternoon,” said their host, “and let me show
+you around. Both Mrs. Guild and I have enjoyed your visit, and we want
+you again. We don’t have so many callers but what a couple more will be
+welcome at any time. And when you come, it must be to stay to dinner
+with us.”
+
+And Allan and Pete readily agreed, and kept to their agreement. They
+each voted Mr. Guild a fine fellow, and each lost his heart to the
+hostess. The dollar was duly paid, and they received a receipt “in full
+for two ducks. Trusting to receive a continuance of your patronage, I
+remain, Yours faithfully, Thomas A. Guild.” There was another visit to
+Hillcrest the following week, and several more before the occurrence
+of the incident which, for a time at least, put thoughts of visiting
+out of mind.
+
+On the Monday after Thanksgiving and the duck-hunt, the story of which
+was now college property, Pete stamped into Allan’s room just before
+dinner, kicked the snow from his shoes against the chimney, tossed his
+sombrero onto the desk, and subsided into the armchair with a mighty
+sigh of triumph.
+
+“_That’s_ all right,” he announced, heartily but vaguely.
+
+“What?” asked Allan, momentarily abandoning his struggle with Herodotus.
+
+“Club table. I’ve got my eighth man.”
+
+“Not really? Who have you got?”
+
+“Well, there’s”--he took a list from his pocket--“there’s you, and Hal,
+and Wolcott, Poor----”
+
+“Pete, you’re lying!”
+
+“--and Cooper, Van Sciver, Maitland, and your Uncle Pete.”
+
+“But--but how’d you do it, Pete? How’d you get them to join? Offer to
+pay half their board, or--or what?”
+
+“Oh, it just took a little dip-lo-macy, my son; just a little
+dip-lo-macy. I started out with you and Hal. I got Hal to introduce
+Poor. Then I told Poor I was getting up a representative table, and
+got him to promise to join if I secured Maitland and Van Sciver. He
+introduced me to Van Sciver. I told him that you and Hal and Poor had
+promised, and he came right over to the party. You were quite a card,
+my son. I had no trouble with Cooper when I told him you were one of
+our principal sights. And so it went. After I’d got Poor and Cooper
+and Van Sciver cinched, there was nothing left to do but receive and
+consider applications. I could have had twenty, but I set out to make
+this table exclusive, and exclusive it’s going to be, if I have to get
+the Dean--hang him!” Pete frowned a moment in silence. Then, “Wolcott
+was the last to join; he agreed ten minutes ago; I just came from his
+room.”
+
+“Pete, you surely are a lucky dub!” said Allan. “I don’t believe
+there’s another fellow in college that could have got all those chaps
+together!”
+
+“There wasn’t much luck about it,” said Pete, calmly. “It just took
+hard work. Why, I haven’t studied a lick since Wednesday, and I’ve cut
+half my recitations. I guess that’s why the Dean wants to see me.”
+
+“Have you heard from him?”
+
+“Yes. I had a polite postal card from him yesterday, and an impolite
+one to-day.”
+
+“But why----”
+
+“Well, I didn’t have time to call on him yesterday; I was too busy
+seeing fellows. It seems to have made him some angry.”
+
+Allan whistled expressively.
+
+“You ought to have gone, Pete. He’ll raise thunder with you now; see if
+he don’t.”
+
+“Oh, _that’s_ all right; he can’t do any worse than expel me. And I’m
+getting pretty tired of this shop, anyway; there isn’t much doing. And
+now that I’ve got the table made up, all the excitement’s over with.
+I’ve thought all along I wouldn’t be here much after Christmas.”
+
+“Oh, shut up that! Who’s going to run the table, if you go and get
+fired? And what do you suppose I’m going to do, you idiot?”
+
+“Oh, I guess you wouldn’t care,” said Pete, sheepishly. But he seemed
+rather pleased when Allan threw Fernald’s Selections at his head.
+
+“Well, maybe he’ll let me off easy this time; just suspend me, perhaps.”
+
+“You’d better go and see him right away. But you can’t until to-morrow,
+now.”
+
+“Oh, yes; I guess I’ll call at his house to-night.”
+
+“He doesn’t like you to, they say,” cautioned Allan. “If I were you,
+I’d wait until morning.”
+
+“No; better have it over with. I’ll drop around afterward and tell you
+about it. Coming to dinner?”
+
+Allan pleaded study, and Pete took himself off.
+
+As it turned out, the Dean was merciful and Pete was merely placed upon
+probation--a fact which appeared to amuse him vastly.
+
+“It’s just like old times,” he explained to Allan and Hal, the latter
+having come in to recount the wonderful things which had happened to
+him during his visit home. “Out in Colorado, I was most always on
+probation. Used to feel downright lonesome when I wasn’t.”
+
+“That’s all well enough,” said Hal, “but you want to be careful, for
+old Levett’s the very dickens if you get too gay with him. First thing
+you know, you won’t know anything.”
+
+“Don’t now,” answered Pete, promptly and cheerfully. “But I wouldn’t be
+surprised if something did drop. The fact is--” he hesitated, sighed
+dolefully, and shook his head, “the fact is, I’ve been feeling lately
+that something unpleasant is going to happen to me. I guess it’s a--a
+premonition.”
+
+His tone was quite sad, and Allan and Hal stared at him in silent
+surprise. Then--
+
+“What’s the matter with you, you idiot?” asked Allan.
+
+“Nothing; I dare say it’s just foolishness, but somehow--” He sighed
+again. “Well, _that’s_ all right,” he went on, with an evident effort
+at cheerfulness. “Have a good time, Hal?”
+
+“You’re off your feed, that’s what’s the matter with you,” said Hal,
+severely. “Your liver’s out of whack. Better see the doctor.”
+
+“What’s probation, anyway?” asked Allan, lightly. “It’s likely to
+happen to any one.”
+
+“It isn’t that,” Pete replied, dolefully. “But I don’t want to talk of
+my troubles,” he continued, with martyr-like complacency. “Tell us what
+you did, Hal.”
+
+“Oh, you’re plumb woozy!” exclaimed the latter. Nevertheless, he
+consented to tell again of the remarkable events which had transpired
+during his absence, and Pete’s melancholy disappeared. It was a
+peculiar feature of it that during the following week it possessed him
+only occasionally. But when it did, he seemed in the uttermost depths
+of melancholy--a melancholy quite as mysterious and remarkable to his
+friends as the celerity with which he recovered on each occasion.
+Hal declared over and over that he was “woozy”--a term of doubtful
+significance, but quite satisfying to the user--and Tommy hinted at
+overstudy. This was among themselves. When Pete was present, they
+merely called him a fool, and let it go at that.
+
+It was the first day of December that witnessed the advent upon the
+scene of a new character in our story. A wagon stopped in front of
+Mrs. Purdy’s in the afternoon and an expressman deposited a small
+box inside Allan’s door. He found it there when he returned from
+his last recitation. It had slats nailed across the top, and from
+its dark recesses came strange sounds. Allan stared. The sounds
+resolved themselves into the plaintive mewings of a kitten, and Allan
+recollected his request to his mother--a request long since forgotten
+by him, but evidently well remembered by her. He tore off a couple of
+the slats and lifted out a six-weeks-old kitten.
+
+It was a pathetic little white object, with two black spots on its back
+and weak-looking pale blue eyes which blinked inquiringly at him. Its
+mouth opened, and the appealing cry was repeated. Allan set it down and
+raced for the kitchen. When he returned, he carried a huge bowl of milk.
+
+The kitten was roaming disconsolately about the floor, but at sight
+of the milk trotted up, and apparently strove to commit suicide by
+overeating--an intention frustrated by Allan, who removed the bowl
+finally and took the kitten into his lap in front of the fire. It
+seemed to have suddenly grown to twice its size, and instead of the
+heart-rending mews, Allan heard a faint but enthusiastic purring as
+the poor little object curled itself up in his arm and blinked its
+gratitude. Presently it went fast asleep and, rather than disturb it,
+Allan sat there for almost an hour, with his books just out of reach.
+
+That evening they named it. Tommy wanted something patriotic: Erskine,
+he thought, was just the thing. Hal showed the possession of an
+unsuspected streak of sentiment and clamored for Hortense. Allan,
+recollecting the fact that the mother’s name was Edith Cinnamon, was
+in favor of calling the offspring Clove or Nutmeg. But Pete, who had
+been gravely examining the kitten at arm’s length, took his pipe from
+between his lips, and with the stem tapped the two black spots on its
+back.
+
+“Two Spot,” he said, with finality.
+
+Two Spot it was. And a few days later neither of the others would have
+changed the name for any consideration, since, as Tommy sadly expressed
+it, “Poor old Pete had named her.”
+
+That first day of December was memorable not only for the arrival of
+Two Spot, but for the first gathering at Pete’s club table. Of those
+beside our friends who composed the table, it is not necessary to speak
+at any length.
+
+Poor we already know very slightly. Wolcott, Cooper, Van Sciver, and
+Maitland were average fellows who had gained prestige for one reason or
+another, among their companions. It was a fact that Pete had succeeded
+in gathering together what might have been called the pick of the
+freshman class. That he had been able to do so was partly because of
+his tact and powers of persuasion and partly because freshman club
+tables were so seldom formed at Erskine that the project had the flavor
+of the unusual.
+
+Dinner was the first meal, and it was a very jolly one. There were one
+or two introductions to be made, and these Pete performed with his
+usual breeziness. After that the eight members sat down, Pete thumped
+the bell commandingly, and the table began its official existence--an
+existence which endured for four college years.
+
+By the time the roast beef and vegetables made their appearance the ice
+was very thoroughly broken. When the cabinet-pudding and fruit came on,
+good-fellowship reigned supreme, and long after the last plate had been
+pushed aside the members still sat about the table, as though loath to
+leave. It is doubtful if there was a single one of them who did not,
+mentally at least, thank Pete Burley for including him in his club
+table.
+
+One gusty winter afternoon, four days later, Pete appeared at Allan’s
+room at about three o’clock. He wore his thickest sweater and a pair
+of woolen gloves.
+
+“I’m going up to see the Guilds. Want to come along?”
+
+“You know plaguey well I can’t,” said Allan, impatiently. “I’ve got
+all this stuff to do.” He indicated the litter of books and papers
+hopelessly. Somehow, of late the Midyears had seemed perilously near.
+
+“Sorry. I’ll tell ’em you said ‘How.’ I think I’ll take a boat and row
+up.”
+
+“You’ll what?” gasped Allan. “Why, it’s an easy three miles by the
+river.”
+
+“_That’s_ all right; I feel like a little exercise.”
+
+“You’re a chump if you do,” answered the other, irritably. “How’ll you
+get the boat back?”
+
+“I’ll let it stay there, maybe. Maybe I’ll come back in it after
+dinner. It’s easy enough to get down-stream.”
+
+“Not in the dark. You’ll drown your fool self.”
+
+“Oh, I guess not. Sorry you can’t come along.”
+
+“I’m not,” muttered Allan, as the door closed. “Pete’s a perfect idiot
+lately.”
+
+After dinner the wind increased into a very respectable gale, and Allan
+fell to wondering whether Pete would be fool enough to attempt the trip
+back in the boat. At nine o’clock his uneasiness drove him forth. He
+fought his way down Main Street to Center, and so around to Pete’s
+lodgings. Lights in the windows reassured him, and he had half a mind
+to go back to his studies, but after a moment’s indecision he decided
+to go up for just a moment and tell Pete again what an idiot he had
+been. So he climbed the stairs and thrust open the door. At the table
+stood Tommy.
+
+“Oh!” he said, “I thought you were Pete.”
+
+“Isn’t he here?” asked Allan.
+
+“No; I don’t know where he is.”
+
+“I do,” Allan replied. Tommy was plainly uneasy when he learned of
+Pete’s trip. The two stayed until almost eleven. Then, as Pete had not
+returned, they went home together.
+
+“He’s probably decided to stay there all night,” said Allan, hopefully.
+“Like as not, they wouldn’t let him come back.”
+
+“I guess that’s it,” answered Tommy. “Pete wouldn’t be such a fool,
+anyhow, as to try and come down the river on a night like this.”
+
+But despite his words, Allan went to sleep feeling not a little
+worried, and awoke the next morning with a feeling of impending
+misfortune. Pete was not in the dining-hall, but it was after eleven
+o’clock before Allen had an opportunity to make inquiries. When he did,
+he could find no news of his friend. No one had seen him that morning.
+Allan cut a recitation and hurried down to Pete’s rooms. The bed had
+not been occupied. Allan returned to the yard fighting against fear.
+
+At three he heard the news from Hal, who, white of face, was waiting
+him on the porch.
+
+“It’s--it’s all up with p-poor old Pete,” he announced, with his mouth
+working tremulously. “They found the boat he had a mile down the river.
+It--it was capsized!”
+
+Allan felt his own face go pale, but after a moment he muttered:
+
+“Pete could swim like a fish; you know that.”
+
+Hal shook his head.
+
+“Then why hasn’t he showed up?” he asked, hopelessly. “No, he’s a
+goner. You remember what he said about premonitions and things going to
+happen to him? I guess he was right, Allan. Poor old Pete! They--they
+found his hat, too, down by the wharves.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+TOMMY CORRECTS A REPORT
+
+
+Allan was almost the last of Pete’s friends to give up hope; but when,
+by the next morning, Pete had neither returned nor had news of him been
+received, even Allan accepted the general belief. The janitor at the
+boat-house readily identified the overturned boat, while as for the
+hat, which had washed ashore at the foot of Main Street, even if Allan
+and Hal had been in doubt about it, there was still Pete’s initials
+marked on the inside. Inquiry at Hillcrest had elicited the information
+that Pete had never reached there.
+
+The Guilds were deeply concerned, and Mr. Guild not only added a sum
+to that offered by the college for the recovery of the body, but
+himself took charge of a boat which all the next day dragged the river
+between his place and Centerport. The drowned body, however, was
+never recovered--a fact which surprised nobody, since the current is
+capricious, and the stream so broad as to preclude the possibility of
+searching every foot of its bed.
+
+The accepted theory was that Pete had encountered a sudden squall while
+crossing the river which had either swamped the boat or overturned it.
+Although Pete was known to have been a capable swimmer and a fellow of
+more than ordinary strength, yet the fact that he had failed to win the
+shore from midstream, weighted down as he had been with heavy clothing,
+was not considered strange.
+
+A telegram was at once despatched to Pete’s father in Colorado, and,
+since that did not elicit a reply by the following forenoon, a second
+message was sent. The death was announced in the city papers with much
+detail, and Pete’s athletic prowess was highly exaggerated. The Erskine
+Purple, which appeared the second day after the accident, contained a
+half-column notice of the sad affair, in which Pete’s many estimable
+qualities were feelingly set forth. Tommy wrote the notice himself,
+and, as he felt every word he wrote, the article was a very touching
+tribute.
+
+The club table was a subdued and sorrowful place for several days.
+Pete’s chair stood pathetically empty until, in desperation, Allan put
+it away. But as a head to the table was essential, an informal election
+was taken two days after Pete’s disappearance, and Wolcott was elevated
+to the place of honor. A meeting of the freshman class was called and a
+committee was appointed to draw up resolutions of sorrow, to be sent
+to Pete’s father and to be published in the Purple.
+
+When, after the second day of search, the tug-boat commissioned by the
+college to drag for the body abandoned its work, the first depression
+had passed and the college by degrees returned to its usual spirits.
+But Allan and Hal and Tommy were not so speedily resigned. Tommy, in
+especial, took the event hard.
+
+Perhaps it had been the utter dissimilarity of Pete’s nature and his
+own which had drawn him to Pete. That as may be, Tommy was a very
+grave-faced little chap in those days.
+
+But Allan, if he showed less grief, was sadly depressed. He had not
+realized before how much he had grown to care in six weeks for the big,
+good-hearted Westerner. He felt terribly lonely, and besides he blamed
+himself for not having accompanied Pete; perhaps, he thought dolefully,
+had he gone along, the accident wouldn’t have happened, and Pete would
+have been sitting there now across the table, puffing lazily at his
+evil-smelling corn-cob pipe. But instead of Pete there was only Tommy
+and Hal--and Two Spot.
+
+Two Spot, grown greatly in bulk since her advent, was snuggled against
+Tommy’s arm. Outside it was blowing a gale and lashing the rain against
+the long windows. It was a most depressing afternoon, and the spirits
+of the three friends were at a low ebb. Tommy looked now and then as
+though a good cry would do him worlds of good. Hal scowled morosely and
+drummed irritatingly on the arm of the Morris chair until Allan, in
+desperation, begged him to “cut it out.” It was at this juncture that
+Tommy let fall a remark that set Allan thinking hard.
+
+“Poor old Pete got what he was after, though, didn’t he?” asked Tommy,
+breaking a silence of several minutes’ duration.
+
+“What’s that?” asked Allan.
+
+“Don’t you remember the bet he and I made?” Tommy replied. “Well,
+he got his name on the first page of the Purple, after all. Wish he
+hadn’t.”
+
+“That’s so,” said Hal. “I’d forgotten about that bet. I guess you’ll
+have to pay that wager to us, Tommy, and we’ll drink to Pete’s memory.”
+
+Allan, his heart thumping wildly, looked at the other fellows’ faces,
+but it was quite evident that the wild surmise which had come to him
+had not occurred to them. He pushed back his chair abruptly and went to
+the window.
+
+Was it possible? he asked himself. Surely, Pete would not have gone to
+such a length merely to win a bet! And yet--Pete was Pete; what another
+fellow would do was no criterion when it came to Pete’s conduct.
+Allan’s heart was racing and thumping now. The more he considered the
+affair in the light of Tommy’s remark the more plausible seemed the
+startling theory which had assailed him. He turned to blurt out his
+suspicions to the others, then hesitated. If he should prove to be
+wrong, he would regret charging Pete with such madness. Perhaps he had
+better keep his own counsel for a while longer.
+
+To you, respected reader, who have all along known, or at least
+suspected, the truth of the matter, it probably seems strange
+that Allan should not have instantly realized the hoax. I have no
+explanation to offer in his behalf. He was still in doubt when Fate, in
+the not uncommon semblance of a postman, came to his relief.
+
+When he answered the landlady’s tap on his door, he received a letter
+the mere sight of which set all his doubts at rest. The envelope
+was postmarked Hastings--Hastings is a small city eighteen miles
+down the river from Centerport--and the round, schoolboy writing was
+unmistakably Pete’s.
+
+Tommy and Hal glanced around when the door opened, but paid no
+attention while Allan tore open the envelope and rushed through the two
+pages of writing inside. They only awoke to the fact that something had
+happened when Allan, waving the sheet above his head, gave vent to a
+blood-curdling yell of joy that sent Two Spot scuttling out of Tommy’s
+arms and under the dresser.
+
+“What is it?” they cried in unison.
+
+Allan waved the letter again ecstatically.
+
+“It’s a letter from him!”
+
+“Him? Who?”
+
+“_Pete!_”
+
+To attempt to describe the subsequent confusion would be absurd. Only
+a wide-awake phonograph could do it. Two chairs were overturned, Tommy
+screeched, Hal roared, Allan yelled back. The letter waved in air. Then
+Tommy danced an impromptu jig and, being quite unconscious that he was
+doing it, did it with much grace. Unfortunately none noticed it. Hal
+was struggling for the letter. Allan was fighting to keep possession
+of it. Tommy danced on. Occasionally he shrieked. His shriek was not
+nearly so pleasant as his dancing. After many moments comparative quiet
+settled and three breathless fellows gathered at the window while
+Allan, holding the precious document in his hands, read aloud. This is
+what they heard, leaving out, for the sake of clearness, the frequent
+interpolations of the listeners:
+
+    HASTINGS HOUSE, HASTINGS, _Dec. 7, 1903_.
+
+    DEAR ALLAN--I guess you weren’t fooled, but anyhow it may be
+    best, in case you are getting worried, to write and let you
+    know that I am still alive and kicking like a steer. I would
+    have written before, but only got a copy of the Purp this
+    morning. It was fine. Tell Tommy he did nobly. I know it was
+    Tommy wrote it because of the poetry. I’m going to have that
+    front page framed for my descendants to look upon. They’ll know
+    then what a noble youth I was.
+
+    I’m leaving here for New York to-night. The old man’s there.
+    I’m not stuck on telling him about it, you can bet. He will
+    be rip-snorting mad. I had to drown myself when I did because
+    I got a letter saying he was going to be in New York a couple
+    of weeks, and I knew he wouldn’t get any telegrams or things
+    announcing my sad death. I don’t guess they’ll let me come back
+    to college, and I don’t care very much, except that I hate to
+    say good-by to you and Hal and Tommy. But I’ll see you again
+    before I go home, unless they are easy on me, which doesn’t
+    seem likely, does it?
+
+    You see, I rowed up to Harwich, turned the boat over and set
+    it adrift, and tossed my hat after it. I had another inside my
+    coat. Then I walked to Williamsport and took the train back to
+    this place. I’ve been here ever since. It’s a dull hole. But I
+    had to wait for the Purple to make sure I hadn’t slipped up.
+    I suppose there was a lot of trouble. I’m sorry if I worried
+    you fellows, but life was getting duller than ditch-water and
+    something had to be done. I wish you would go down to my room
+    and pack up the things that are lying around.
+
+    Tell Tommy I’ll come back some day for that dinner, and that
+    it’s got to be a good one. Maybe, if you have time, you’ll
+    write and tell me how you all are. It seems like I hadn’t seen
+    you for a month. Address me, Care Thomas A. Burley, Fifth
+    Avenue Hotel, New York. You fellows have got to come out to
+    Colorado this summer and visit me if they don’t let me come
+    back to college. If you don’t, I’ll arise from my watery grave
+    and haunt you. Say “How” to Hal and Tommy, and don’t forget
+    your poor old
+
+    UNCLE PETE.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The news astonished everybody save the Dean, who had already begun
+to smell a rat. Astonishment gave place to relief or joy, according
+to the hearer’s degree of intimacy with Pete, and joy gave place to
+resentment. It is rather annoying to lavish regret over the taking-off
+of a friend only to discover that the friend has worked a deliberate
+hoax on you and is still alive to enjoy your confusion. That is why,
+had Pete put in an appearance at Erskine at that time, he would in all
+probability have been mobbed.
+
+But Pete didn’t appear, and ultimately resentment gave place to
+amusement. The general attitude became one of laughing disapproval.
+After all, Pete was Pete, and even if he had harrowed their feelings
+considerably at the same time he had supplied interest at a dull season
+and had worked nobody any harm. This reasoning may have appealed to
+the faculty as well. At all events, their verdict, when announced, was
+thought to be amazingly merciful. Peter Burley ’07 was suspended for
+the balance of the term. As there remained less than four weeks of the
+term, the penalty would be of short duration.
+
+Allan and Hal were delighted, and even Tommy, after the first day or
+two of rampant rage, grudgingly acknowledged that he was glad Pete
+was coming back. This was also after Tommy had written a denial for
+the Purple of that paper’s announcement of Pete’s death. That denial
+was very, very simple and brief. There was no mention made of Pete’s
+many excellent qualities, nor did it express exuberant joy over
+his restoration. It merely stated that the announcement had proved
+erroneous and that Mr. Peter Burley was visiting relatives in New York
+city.
+
+When Allan or Hal mentioned that announcement, Tommy went purple in
+the face and fell to stuttering. Perhaps, as Allan pointed out, it was
+just as well he stuttered, since what he had to say was really unfit
+for polite ears. But Tommy’s anger was too intense to last, and by the
+middle of the month he was able to smile wanly at Pete’s deception. The
+awarding to him of a two-hundred-dollar scholarship helped, perhaps,
+to restore his good humor. Hal said the scholarship would come in very
+handy in paying for the dinner.
+
+Pete wrote that he had heard the faculty’s verdict, and was glad they
+were going to let him come back. He was leaving New York for home as
+he wrote, to be gone until the opening of the winter term. By reading
+between the lines, Allan surmised that Pete’s father had not been
+over-much pleased with his son’s escapade; there were signs of a
+chastened spirit.
+
+The term wore itself to a close, and one sunshiny morning Allan and Hal
+and Tommy left Centerport for their respective homes, traveling the
+first part of the journey in company. Two Spot, apparently indifferent
+to the separation, was confided to Mrs. Purdy, and spent the Christmas
+holidays in the neighborhood of the kitchen range.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+PETE WRITES HOME
+
+
+“Of course,” said Allan, “we’re not terribly poor, but it’s going to
+make a good deal of difference to us.”
+
+The new term was three days old and Allan and Pete were sitting in
+front of the stove in Pete’s study. The stove was a recent addition
+to the furnishings, and installed more in deference to his friends’
+demands than from any desire of his own. Pete didn’t mind a little
+cold; just so long as he could find enough water under the ice in
+the pitcher to wash with, he was satisfied. But Allan and Hal and
+Tommy made disparaging remarks about his heating arrangements and
+ostentatiously kept their hats and coats on while visiting him, and so
+Pete bought a base-burner and a half ton of coal.
+
+“What mine is it?” asked Pete.
+
+“The Gold Beetle. Ever hear of it? It’s out in your State.”
+
+“Is it at Rico?” asked Pete.
+
+“Yes, that’s the place. Didn’t you say you were there last summer?”
+
+“Yes, and I know--something about the mine.” Pete looked thoughtfully
+at the flames dancing behind the mica. “Fact is,” he continued, “the
+old man is interested in it.”
+
+“Really? Then don’t you think it will be all right? He wouldn’t have
+anything to do with a poor mine, would he?”
+
+“Well, the trouble is you can’t always tell whether a mine’s good or
+bad. The old man’s got stock in all kinds; some of it’s good, some of
+it isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on. I’ve got a lot of that kind
+myself. I used to think I was something of an investor. Now, this Gold
+Beetle; what’s probably happened to that is that the pay ore has given
+out. It very often does. A mine’ll run thousands to the ton for two or
+three years, sometimes twenty, and then all of a sudden the lode will
+just naturally peter out. I guess that’s what’s happened to the Beetle.
+I remember pretty well how it lies. There are paying properties all
+around it, and maybe if they went on or opened up new drifts they’d
+come across fresh lodes; or maybe they wouldn’t; it’s just a gamble. I
+dare say the stockholders aren’t willing to put any money into it. How
+much stock do your folks hold?”
+
+“I don’t know exactly. Pretty nearly half of it, I think.”
+
+“Too bad! I’ll ask the old man, when I write, what he thinks about it.”
+
+“I wish you would. Maybe if he owns some of it we could--could kind of
+get together and--and do something,” said Allan, vaguely but hopefully.
+
+“Maybe,” answered Pete, thoughtfully. “Meanwhile----”
+
+“Meanwhile I’ve got to find some way of making a little money; enough
+to pay my board, at any rate. And that’s why I ought to leave the
+table, Pete, and go back to commons, where I can feed for less.”
+
+“But we can’t let you do that. Now, look here; you don’t eat very much.
+What’s the sense in your paying as much as I do, who eat twice as much?
+That’s plumb foolish! I ought to pay at least eight dollars and you
+oughtn’t to pay a red cent over four; and that’s the way it’s going to
+be after this.”
+
+“No, it isn’t,” Allan replied. “If I stay, I’ll pay my share, and
+that’s six dollars, Pete. I went over yesterday to see if I couldn’t
+get a place in Brown Hall as a waiter, but there aren’t any vacancies;
+they told me they had two applications for every place.”
+
+“But you wouldn’t like to wait on table, would you?”
+
+“It isn’t a question of liking. I’ve heard tell of lots of ways of
+earning money in college, but none of them seem very practical for my
+case.”
+
+“Well, look here; you figure out how much money you’ll need for the
+rest of the year and let me know.”
+
+Allan looked puzzled.
+
+“What good would that do?”
+
+“I’ll lend it to you. Now, shut up! I haven’t offered to give it to
+you, have I, you chump? You can pay me back any time you like; there
+isn’t a bit of a hurry. And I’ve got a whole lot of money in bank from
+last term. Somehow, it’s mighty hard to get rid of money up here. You
+needn’t say anything to any one about it; it’ll just be between you and
+me. That’s all right, ain’t it?”
+
+“No, it isn’t all right, Pete, but it’s awfully good of you, and I
+won’t forget it in a hurry.”
+
+And although Pete threatened and coaxed and called names, he was at
+last forced to abandon the proposition. And in the end it was Tommy
+who, learning of Allan’s quandary, made the suggestion which led to a
+measure of success.
+
+“I knew a fellow at school who used to go around to the fellows’ rooms
+at night and sell sandwiches and wienerwursts and made good money,”
+said Tommy. “Wouldn’t care for that, though, I guess?”
+
+Allan acknowledged that he wouldn’t.
+
+“Then there was a fellow I heard of who was agent for a sporting-goods
+firm and sold on commission. He worked up quite a trade, but it took
+him a good while to do it. Then there was a fellow had a rental
+business: rented rooms and got a commission from the landladies; but he
+did most of his business in the fall. Then--” Tommy paused, struck by a
+brilliant thought. “You might try for a place on the Purple,” he cried.
+“They elect new men in March. If you got a place, you’d make fair money
+from March on to the end of the year. That’s what I did last year, and
+I made enough to pay my board.”
+
+“But I don’t know anything about reporting, Tommy,” Allan objected.
+“Besides, I’m not a hustler like you.”
+
+Tommy looked disappointed. He thought for a minute in silence. Then--
+
+“I tell you, Allan,” he said, “I’ll see Stearns. He’s track-team
+captain, you know. I’ll tell him that if you don’t find something to
+do, you won’t be able to stay here. And he won’t want to lose you,
+you can bet, because he’s set his heart on winning from Robinson this
+spring.”
+
+“But I don’t know that that would be quite true,” Allan objected.
+“Because, even if I don’t find any work, maybe I’ll be able to hang on
+here somehow to the end of the year.”
+
+“Well, I won’t lie to him,” said Tommy, “but I’ll fix him so he’ll find
+something; you see if I don’t.”
+
+He lifted Two Spot off his lap and deposited her on the desk, where she
+subsided contentedly against a pile of books and purred on as though
+nothing had happened.
+
+“Happy little bunch of fur, isn’t she?” asked Tommy. “If she’s too
+great an expense to you, I’ll take her off your hands.”
+
+“Indeed, you’ll not!” answered Allan. “While there’s a loaf left in the
+house, she shall have the crust.”
+
+“Scratch him, Kitty! Say, did Pete tell you he’d gone out for the
+freshman hockey team? Won’t he be a sight on the ice?”
+
+“He says he can skate,” answered Allan. “All I know is, I don’t want to
+have the thingamabob--puck--when he’s bearing down on me.”
+
+“Are you going to play?”
+
+“No; I’d like to, but I guess I won’t have time. Besides, I don’t skate
+very well.”
+
+“Skating isn’t everything in hockey,” said Tommy, wisely. “I can skate
+myself. I can make the ice look like a picture in a book or a map of
+China; but last year, when I went out for the freshman team, I was
+nearly slaughtered. Leroy butted me into the boards and somebody else
+cracked me over the shins with his stick and another chap tripped
+me up--accidentally, _of_ course--and I slid thirty-one feet or
+thereabouts on my head. The hair didn’t grow back for a month. I quit.
+Life was too precious.”
+
+“Wise youth!” commented Allan. “But we mustn’t miss seeing Pete play.
+Let’s go over to the rink to-morrow, if there is any ice.”
+
+“All right. And I guess there’ll be ice; it’s cold enough now to freeze
+a door-knob. Going down to Pete’s this evening? I’ll see you there,
+then. So long. Good-by, Two Spot, my angel child!”
+
+Tommy’s plan bore fruit. Allan had a visit from Walter Stearns next
+day, and two days later Allan was giving two hours out of each
+twenty-four to clerical work in the office of the Erskine College
+Athletic Association.
+
+The work, which consisted chiefly of answering letters from Professor
+Nast’s dictation--Professor Nast was chairman of the Athletic
+Committee--was ridiculously easy, if somewhat uninteresting, and seemed
+out of all proportion to the remuneration, which was one dollar an
+hour. There were five working days in the week for Allan, and as a
+result he was earning ten dollars a week--twice as much as he had
+hoped for. And all the time he was disturbed by a haunting thought
+that, when all was said and done, he was not really earning the money.
+But it seemed absurd to find fault with his good fortune so long as his
+employers were satisfied, and so he offered no objections. Afterwards
+he marveled at his blindness.
+
+About this time Pete wrote one of his semi-occasional letters to his
+father. He wasn’t much of a letter-writer, and the epistle as a whole
+would not interest us, but a portion of it merits attention.
+
+“I remember (he wrote) that you said in New York you’d been down town
+to a meeting of the Gold Beetle stockholders, and that they had voted
+to stop work on the mine. I didn’t know then that Allan’s folks were
+interested in it. I guess they haven’t dismantled yet, and so it isn’t
+too late to change your mind. I guess you have enough stock in it
+to control it; if you haven’t, the Wares’ shares will give you the
+whip-hand. I want you to have them go ahead with the Gold Beetle and
+fuss round some. A couple of months’ work won’t break anybody. You can
+charge your share of it up to me. There must be pay ore somewhere on
+the property. Look at all the gold that’s coming out all around it.
+Allan’s folks need the money. It’s about all the income they have. If
+that stops, his sister will have to give up her college, and so will
+Allan. Allan’s my side partner, and I’m not going to have him lose
+what property he has without another try. Let me know right away about
+this.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+HOCKEY--WITH VARIATIONS
+
+
+Allan, Tommy, and Hal stood at the side of the rink, up to their ankles
+in snow, and watched Pete play hockey. The rink was built at the
+far end of Erskine Field, and looked, from the locker house, like a
+brand-new cattle-pen.
+
+This Saturday afternoon it was snowing in a half-hearted way, making
+the ice slushy and hiding the town from view. There were about fifty
+other fellows looking on, for the Midyears had begun, and anything
+to take the mind off examinations was welcome. The varsity team had
+traveled down the river to play Hastings High School, and the freshman
+team was making the most of its opportunities.
+
+There were only twelve candidates present, and so the opposing teams
+each lacked a forward. But in spite of this the play was fast and
+furious, making up in enthusiasm what it lacked in science. Pete was
+playing cover-point on the first team, and thus far his performance
+had not lacked of applause. If some of the applause was unmistakably
+sarcastic, still it was applause.
+
+Pete was a hard skater and very much at home on the ice, but there
+wasn’t much of grace about him. He hadn’t as yet learned the subtleties
+of stick-handling, but he usually managed to get the puck by the simple
+expedient of skating full-tilt against the opponent and knocking him
+down in a good-natured, inoffensive way. Allan, Tommy, and Hal felt,
+as they watched, that they were being fully rewarded for tramping out
+there through the snow.
+
+“Let’s see you skate backward, Pete,” called Allan in a lull of the
+game. Pete grinned.
+
+“Give us the grape-vine, Pete,” begged Tommy. Pete grinned again.
+
+“How are you on the outer-edge, old man?” asked Hal. Pete continued to
+grin.
+
+Then the puck came sliding down toward him, dribbled this way and that
+by the hockey of an opposing forward. Pete drew himself together,
+grasped his stick in both hands as though it was a bludgeon, and rushed
+toward the foe. Down went the foe, and the three admirers laughed
+joyfully. But Pete didn’t get the puck, for the vanquished one had
+succeeded in passing it across to another forward, exhibiting the
+first suggestion of team-play of the afternoon, so far as the second
+team was concerned, and Pete skated wildly in pursuit. The point went
+out to meet the attack, another clever pass was made, and then--
+Presto! goal was shaking his head and pulling the disk out from under
+the netting. The second had scored.
+
+“Ah, that was great work, Pete!” cried Allan, admiringly.
+
+“That was _playing_!” said Hal. “Oh, it was great!”
+
+“Real science, _I_ call it!” declared Tommy. “How’d you do it, Pete?”
+
+“Don’t you mind their scoring, Pete,” said Allan, encouragingly. “You
+knocked your man down. Just you kill all you want to.”
+
+Pete skated over and scattered them with his hockey.
+
+“You wait till I get these skates off,” he threatened, “and I’ll roll
+you three little snipes in the snow!”
+
+“Don’t waste your strength on us, Pete,” begged Tommy from a safe
+distance. “Slaughter the enemy. Don’t be discouraged; there’s only six
+left.”
+
+“Eat ’em up, Pete!” cried Hal.
+
+Pete shook his stick at them and turned away. As he skated back to his
+position a chorus of admiring “A-a-ahs!” followed him. When the second
+half was almost done the score was 5 to 6, in the first team’s favor,
+and the captain of the second, a big, round-faced chap who played
+center, called on his support for a goal.
+
+“Play hard, fellows, and let’s tie this!” he commanded. “Play together
+now!”
+
+Fortune seemed to be favoring them. They secured the rubber and swept
+with it down the rink. As usual, Pete put one man out of the play, but
+by the time he had recovered from the check the advance was past him
+and was threatening the goal. Both teams were mixed in wild confusion,
+and the puck was carroming about from goal to attack and from attack to
+defense. Then it was sped knee-high at the net, was luckily stopped by
+the goal, and shot out to the side right at Pete’s feet.
+
+Pete started off with it, but was in such a hurry that he overskated,
+and had to fight for it. When he again secured possession the attack
+was thick about him. But he started off again, and the forwards of
+his side skated to their positions. Pete kept close to the boards,
+fooled the opposing cover-point by carroming the puck against them, and
+for an instant had a clear shot at goal. But shooting wasn’t Pete’s
+specialty, and so he charged on until, well past the center of the
+ice, the second team’s captain charged him fiercely from the side,
+hurling him against the boards and knocking his stick into the air.
+
+Luckily, the puck struck the adversary’s skate and carromed back to the
+side, and Pete, thrusting his skate against it, held it there while the
+other pushed and shoved with his body and tried to work the puck loose
+with his stick. About them hovered friend and foe, awaiting the instant
+when the disk should slide out of the _mêlée_.
+
+The second-team player fought like mad and at last, by a fierce
+shove, moved Pete’s foot. Pete, fearing loss of the precious prize,
+swung quickly around, bringing his adversary to the boards, and then,
+catching him with one hand at the knee, tipped him over the barrier
+into the soft snow.
+
+[Illustration: Pete tipped him over the barrier.]
+
+Without waiting to see him safely landed, Pete rescued the puck from
+an interloping enemy and went straight down the rink with it, scorning
+friend and foe alike, and drove it furiously into goal. When he swung
+around and looked back, it seemed that a devastating gale had swept
+over the rink, for along his route first-team men and second-team men
+were picking themselves up from the ice. But what surprised him more
+was the appearance of the second’s captain, who, snow-covered, black
+of face and scowling, was swaggering up to him.
+
+“What did you do that for?” he growled.
+
+From the sides of the rink came shouts of laughter. Allan, Hal, and
+Tommy were hanging feebly over the barrier, beating the planks with
+their hands in gasping impotence.
+
+“Do what?” asked Pete, plainly at a loss.
+
+“Throw me over the boards,” answered the other, belligerently.
+
+“Oh, that?” asked Pete. “Why, you were in my way, you see.”
+
+“You shouldn’t have done that, Burley,” said the first team’s captain.
+“But you needn’t try and scrap here on the ice,” he continued, turning
+to the other. “Play the game!”
+
+“Look here,” said Pete, “wasn’t that all right? Mustn’t I do that?”
+
+“Of course you can’t. You ought to know the rules. The puck goes back
+there again.” The first’s captain turned away impatiently.
+
+“It’s on me, partner,” said Pete. “Sorry, and hope I didn’t hurt you.”
+
+“All right,” muttered the other, as graciously as he could. The
+knowledge that he had served as a source of intense amusement prevented
+him from putting much cordiality into his tones. The puck was taken
+back to where Pete had transgressed the rules, and again faced off by
+him and the second’s captain. The latter got possession and the play
+went on, but to the onlookers it was very dull, and none cared when,
+after a minute or two, the game came to an end.
+
+Allan, Hal, and Tommy, still very red of face and still grinning,
+awaited Pete and escorted him back to the college in triumph, Hal
+marching ahead and chanting an improvised pæan of praise until Pete
+seized him and rolled him over in the snow. Thereupon Hal retired to a
+safe distance and threw snowballs at Pete. He was not, however, a very
+good shot and, as a result, Tommy and Allan were hit more often than
+their companion. It ended with the three joining forces against the
+obnoxious Hal and chasing him all the way down Poplar Street.
+
+When he reached Mrs. Purdy’s, in his retreat, he withdrew into Allan’s
+room, locked the door, and sent Two Spot, a white handkerchief tied
+around her neck, out by way of a window, to treat with the besiegers.
+The flag of truce was respected. Hal opened the window and agreed
+to surrender if allowed to march forth from the citadel with colors
+flying, and his terms were accepted. He retired from view and presently
+reappeared in Allan’s plaid dressing-gown, and holding aloft a Hillton
+flag. Silently and proudly he marched forth and twice paraded the
+piazza. Then the enemy, violating the rules of warfare, fell upon him
+as one man, and he was borne, struggling and kicking, back into the
+citadel and deposited on the couch.
+
+Allan returned to the front yard and rescued his handkerchief, which
+was trailing in the snow as Two Spot chased an imaginary mouse around
+the bare and solitary rose-bush. Tommy had meanwhile poked the fire
+into a blaze, and victors and vanquished drew up to it, while Pete
+smoked the pipe of peace and the others ate sweet chocolate, which, as
+Tommy pointed out, represented the fruits of victory.
+
+Two Spot sat on Pete’s broad knee and purred and blinked at the flames
+and occasionally stuck her claws tentatively through Pete’s trousers as
+a proof of her affection. And everybody felt very jolly and comfortable
+until the six-o’clock bell sent them to prepare for dinner.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+IN THE “CORRAL”
+
+
+While the snow kept piling itself up and the Midyears were still
+racking fellows’ brains, the call came for candidates for the relay
+team to run against Robinson at the Boston indoor meeting. And
+simultaneously the outdoor track was shoveled free of snow and fellows
+whose ambitions pointed toward the winning of pewter mugs trotted out
+in the afternoons, when the mercury was down to zero, and sped around
+the track with their bare legs looking very pink and cold. Kernahan
+had induced Allan to enter for both the mile and the two mile, and the
+latter was one of the most indefatigable of those who daily risked
+death by freezing.
+
+He was glad to be able to stretch his legs again, was Allan. He had
+begun to wonder whether the muscles hadn’t forgotten how to work. He
+had his first mile trial a week after the beginning of practise and a
+fortnight before the date of the meeting.
+
+The result wasn’t especially satisfactory; 4:56 was not anywhere near
+record time for that track, while it was more than twenty seconds
+slower than what it must be to give him a chance at winning a place.
+But Kernahan seemed in nowise discouraged. Instead, he told Allan he
+had done well enough for a starter, and promised to give him a trial at
+the two miles a week later.
+
+Meanwhile the relay candidates were tested and sifted, the candidates
+for the field events practised daily in the gymnasium, and athletic
+activity seized upon the college. The baseball cage resounded with
+the thump of the balls and the cries of the players, the rowing-room
+gave forth strange sounds of an afternoon, and the basket-ball team,
+undisputed lords of the gymnasium floor for two months, were hustled
+into a corner and given scant attention.
+
+And yet, in spite of all these hints, Winter was strangely dense.
+Instead of folding up his blanket of snow and taking himself off, he
+showed no sign of contemplated departure, but on the contrary tightened
+his icy grip on the world, and almost every day sent a new snow-storm
+to emphasize the fact that he still reigned.
+
+Afternoon practise on the track took place in every sort of weather.
+Sometimes it snowed so hard that the runners, as they swept around the
+far end of the track, were only indistinct blurs in the white mist.
+Sometimes the track was sheeted with a rough skim of ice, through
+which the men’s spikes broke imperfectly, and on such days the spills
+were numerous and the turns were things to be carefully negotiated.
+Sometimes the sun shone and the wind blew, straight and cold, out of
+the northeast; and such times were best, deluding one for a while, as
+they did, into thinking that winter’s sway was drawing to its end. But
+they were deceitful moments, and one could fancy old Winter shaking
+his lean sides with laughter as he drew the clouds together again and
+emptied a new shower of flakes upon the bleak world.
+
+But matters progressed. The relay team of six runners was formed, the
+sprinters and distance men worked themselves into condition, and the
+hurdlers, jumpers, vaulters, and weight men limbered up their muscles.
+
+A week before the meeting Allan was given a speed trial for the two
+miles. The track was in fairly good condition, and Rindgely and
+Thatcher made the pace. With Allan was another two-mile candidate,
+named Conroy. Allan took the lead at the start and held it for the
+first half mile. Rindgely went in then and made the pace for the next
+three-quarters, and then gave place to Thatcher, a half-miler. Conroy
+was a lap behind at the half distance, and at the finish was entirely
+out of it. Allan found his sprinting ability sorely tried in the last
+two laps when Thatcher let himself out and Allan tried to keep up with
+him. But he finished fairly strong, and Kernahan slipped his watch into
+his pocket with a nod of approval.
+
+“Ten, one and an eighth,” he said.
+
+But that seemed slow time to Allan, who had entertained visions of
+doing the distance in something like 9:50, and he said so to Billy.
+
+“Well, that’s good enough to give you a chance of a place,” he
+answered. “You’ve got three months yet before the dual meet, and
+Robinson’s best two-miler could only do--9:46, I think it was. You’ll
+get some experience at the Boston meet, if you don’t bring home a mug,
+and experience is what you need. You’ll have to get into your pace
+sooner down there or you’ll get crowded off the track. You try half a
+dozen starts Monday and try getting your pace in the first six or eight
+strides. You’d better run along now, and don’t be scarey of the cold
+water, my boy.”
+
+During that next week the class hockey championship was decided. The
+freshmen won handily from the sophomores by the score of seven goals
+to three in the first of the contests, and to Pete went the credit for
+four of the seven goals. He played magnificently.
+
+To be sure, as has been said already, he knew little of the science of
+the game, but what he lacked there he made up in vigor and enthusiasm.
+Thrice he was put off the ice for short periods, but this only caused
+him to work harder when he was allowed to re-enter the game. In the
+second half--the first period having ended with the score three to four
+in favor of ’07--he was played up into the forward line, and when he
+secured the puck and once got away with it, it was his until he had
+shot at the sophomores’ goal. If Pete had been able to shoot as well as
+he skated and dodged the enemy, the score would have been overwhelming.
+
+But Pete’s Waterloo came when the deciding game was contested with ’04.
+Pete’s playing was just as hard and fast as before, but the seniors had
+two or three players who, in the language of Tommy, “made rings around
+him.” Every time Pete tried one of his sensational rushes, some one or
+other of the discourteous enemy, carefully avoiding his body, stole the
+puck from under his nose. Pete endured it for a while untroubled, then
+he began to break hockeys. But the supply seemed unlimited, and the
+remedy wasn’t successful. Defeat fell to ’07’s share.
+
+They tried to tease Pete on the afternoon’s performance that evening,
+but Pete was invulnerable to gibes. The four had congregated in the
+“corral” and were hugging the stove closely, Pete sitting astride the
+stock saddle which, for want of a chair, he had lugged from its corner.
+
+“Must have cost you something for sticks,” Tommy suggested.
+
+“Must have cost the other fellows something,” laughed Hal. “I saw
+Rindgely lose three. You were a destructive chap, Pete.”
+
+“Rindgely was plumb crazy,” answered Pete, with a broad smile. “Every
+time he got a new stick, I bust it for him. I don’t just know whether
+that’s good hockey, but I know it worked mighty well. But Rindgely’s
+got it in for me, all right.”
+
+“He seems to have it in for me too,” said Allan, thoughtfully. “The
+other day he didn’t want to make pace for me when I tried the two
+miles, and acted nasty as you like afterward in the locker house.”
+
+“He’s a queer customer,” said Tommy. “A pretty good fellow to keep away
+from. I don’t mean that there’s anything wrong with him, you know, but
+he’s awfully uncertain. You never can tell how he’s going to take a
+thing. Just after recess I met him one day, and asked him if he’d taken
+in the St. Thomas Club Indoor Meet--he lives in Brooklyn, you know--and
+he nearly took my head off; said he wasn’t home Christmas, and implied
+that it was none of my business. I told him I didn’t care a rap where
+he was.”
+
+“That’s right, Tommy; don’t you let them monkey with you,” laughed
+Allan.
+
+“Well, what did he want to jump on me for?” asked Tommy, warmly. “I
+didn’t care whether he went to the old meet or not; I just wanted to be
+polite. The reason I mentioned the meet was that he’d told about going
+the year before while he was at home, and I just happened to remember
+seeing something about it before Christmas. It’s an open meeting, you
+know, and they have a big card--weights, team races, boxing, and all
+sorts of stunts.”
+
+“What is he, a miler?” asked Hal.
+
+Tommy nodded.
+
+“Guess that explains his cutting up with you, Allan; you beat him in
+the fall, didn’t you?”
+
+“Yes, with a good big handicap.”
+
+“Well, he’s afraid you’re going to cut him out of a place in the dual
+meet.”
+
+“There’s no good reason why he should think so. He can beat me, I’m
+pretty sure. Besides, if Billy Kernahan has his way, I’ll be down only
+for the two miles at the dual.”
+
+“We’re going to have a dandy article on the indoor meeting this week,”
+said Tommy.
+
+“Wrote it yourself, eh?” suggested Hal.
+
+“I suppose it will be like last year’s, though,” Tommy continued,
+ruefully. “We had two columns, with everything figured out finely: who
+was going to do what, and which fellows would win places. And then it
+came out all wrong.”
+
+“Say, Thomas,” said Pete, when the laughter had subsided, “I don’t want
+to hurry you, but I’m getting the powerful hungers.”
+
+“Yes, Tommy, how about that dinner at the Elm Tree?” chimed in Hal.
+
+“He’s making money to pay for it,” said Allan.
+
+“No, I’m not,” answered Tommy, sadly. “That’s the trouble. You’ll have
+to wait a bit, Pete; I’m dead broke, honest Injun!”
+
+“All right; just so long as I get that feed. Better not put it off too
+long, though; I’m nicely conditioned, you know, since the Midyears, and
+there’s no telling what may happen to me.”
+
+“That’s so,” Allan said. “A fellow that’s been drowned, suspended,
+and put on probation, all in two short months, is a pretty slippery
+customer.”
+
+“Say, Allan,” said Tommy, reminiscently, “do you remember the night we
+waited up here for that duffer to come home?”
+
+“The night he was drowned?” asked Allan. “Never’ll forget it. The way
+the wind howled and cut up was a caution; made me think of graveyards
+and--and corpses.”
+
+“Me, too,” said Tommy. “I went back to the room and dreamed of Pete
+floating in my bath-tub, with his old smelly pipe in his mouth and his
+face all white and horrid. Every time he puffed on the pipe he winked
+his eye at me, and I woke up yelling like a good one.” Tommy arose from
+his seat and stood gazing into the flames. “It was a beast of a dream.”
+
+“Must have been,” Hal responded, sympathetically. Pete puffed silently
+at the afore-mentioned pipe and grinned heartlessly. Tommy glanced over
+at him and commenced an aimless ramble about the room.
+
+“I said then,” he went on, “that if Pete-- Say, it’s getting beastly
+hot in here. Let’s have the door open.”
+
+In spite of the protests, he opened the portal into the narrow hallway,
+and continued his rambling and his talk.
+
+“I made up my mind then that if Pete wasn’t drowned, that if I ever saw
+his dear, foolish, homely face again, I’d--I’d----”
+
+“Be a better man,” Hal suggested.
+
+“Learn to write English,” offered Allan.
+
+“Pay your debts,” muttered Pete over his pipe-stem.
+
+“_I’d take a fall out of him!_” concluded Tommy, savagely. At the
+same instant he put a hand under Pete’s chin, tipped him heels over
+head backward onto the floor, smothered his outcries by banging the
+saddle down over his face, punched him twice in the ribs--and flew!
+His forethought in opening the door saved him. As he dived through he
+slammed it behind him in Pete’s face, and the others heard four wild
+leaps on the staircase. Then all was still save for Pete’s chuckles.
+But stay! What sound was that from beneath the window; what doleful
+wailings broke upon the night air? They hearkened.
+
+“Cowardy, cowardy, cowardy cat!” shrilled Tommy. “Dare you to come
+down, Pete Burley!”
+
+Pete threw up a front window. There was a sound of hasty footfalls and
+an exclamation as Tommy collided with an ash-barrel. Then from far up
+the street came a last defiant challenge: “_O Fresh!_”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+THE INDOOR MEETING
+
+
+Mechanics’ Hall, Boston, was filled from floor to gallery, from doors
+to stage. The hum of voices, the fluttering of programs, the slow
+bellow of the announcer as, with megaphone at mouth, he gave the result
+of the events, made a strange medley of sound.
+
+From one corner of the floor to another there ran diagonally a
+lime-marked lane. Since half past seven white-trunked figures had
+rushed, half a dozen at a time, down this lane at top speed, had flung
+themselves panting, with outstretched arms, against the mattresses at
+the end, and had turned and trotted back to the dressing-rooms.
+
+The supply had seemed inexhaustible. Heat after heat had been run in
+the Forty Yards Novice, heat after heat in the Forty Yards Invitation,
+heat after heat in the Forty Yards Handicap, and now the hurdles were
+in place, the pistol was cracking forth, and white-clad forms were
+flying breathlessly over the bars and breasting the red string at the
+finish.
+
+At each report of the pistol the center gallery leaped to its feet, the
+hurdlers sprang into sight from below and sped away like arrows across
+the yellow floor. Hurdles crashed, the crowd shouted, the racers flung
+their arms at the tape and collapsed against the padded wall at the
+end of the lane, and the center gallery sank into its seats again and
+rustled its programs. And the announcer lifted his crimson trumpet:
+
+“Forty-five Yards Hurdles--fourth heat won by No. 390, No. 3 second;
+time, 6⅖ seconds.”
+
+There were dozens of colleges, schools, and associations represented
+there that night, and hundreds of competitors. There was the blue Y of
+Yale, the crimson H of Harvard, the red C of Cornell, the green D of
+Dartmouth, the purple E of Erskine, the brown R of Robinson, and many,
+many other insignia flaunted on heaving breasts.
+
+Thirty-odd officials, in immaculate evening clothes, lent a note of
+sobriety to the colorful scene, while a blue-coated policeman, whose
+duty it was to guard the long table of mugs and tankards, stood out
+intensely against the gleam and glitter of the prizes. On the big
+stage, the sloping bank of watchers looked from the floor like a bed
+of waving somber-hued flowers. From a corner of the balcony came the
+strains of brazen music.
+
+The jumping standards were set and the competitors ranged themselves
+along the edge of the track, their sweaters and dressing-gowns of all
+colors thrown loosely about their bare shoulders. The Clerk of Course
+could be heard at the dressing-room door summoning the men for the next
+event:
+
+“All out for the two miles!”
+
+The sloping corners of the track rang with the footsteps of the
+candidates as they warmed up. There were fifteen entries, and among
+them were men from Harvard, Yale, Cornell, Massachusetts Institute of
+Technology, Phillips Exeter Academy, and Erskine College. Erskine’s
+representative was rather nervous as, with his number flapping at
+his back, he was assigned the place at the pole in the front line.
+Beside him was a Cornell runner whose prowess was well known, and
+Allan Ware marveled at his own temerity. Surely, he had no chance
+against the Cornell man, nor, for that matter, against several of the
+others. Well, he would run as well as he knew how and take his beating
+philosophically.
+
+The fact was, that the intense excitement was unnerving him. And that
+was why, when the starter had cried “Set!” Allan dashed forward, taking
+half the line with him. For this misdemeanor he and three others were
+promptly relegated to the last row. Then the command came again and the
+pistol cracked.
+
+At the first turn Allan had to fight to keep from being hustled from
+the track. After the next corner the runners had settled down to their
+work, a New York man making easy pace. Allan was well in front. The
+nervousness had left him now and he had no thought for the cheering
+spectators, for the blaring strains from the band, for anything, in
+short, save the struggle on hand. Lap after lap was reeled off until
+the race was half finished. Allan was still holding his own, with the
+consciousness of much power in reserve. The New York man still kept the
+lead, while close on his heels ran one of the Cornell contingent.
+
+Presently a Yale man fought his way up to Allan, and for half a lap
+they contested fifth place. Then, at a turn, the Yale man took the bank
+and slid into the lead, and Allan was sixth. He expected changes ahead.
+Of course the New York runner would not attempt to keep the lead much
+longer. He would drop back, Allan would overhaul the Yale chap, and in
+the last two laps he would call on the reserve power he was certain he
+had and fight it out to the finish.
+
+He looked back. The nearest runner was several yards away and didn’t
+appear dangerous. The relative positions remained unchanged for another
+lap, and then things began to happen.
+
+The Yale man dropped back, a second Cornell man--Allan recognized him
+as the one who had been beside him at the start--spurted into third
+place, and Allan found himself still running fifth. He had lost count
+of the laps, but believed there could not be more than two left.
+
+So he started to crawl up. At the next corner, that by the
+dressing-rooms, he passed the Cornell man who had been second for so
+long; his duty was done and he was easing up on his pace. Down the
+stretch Allan gained on a Technology runner, but failed to pass him.
+Suddenly the gong announcing the last lap clanged. Allan glanced across
+the hall. The New York man was still in the lead, and was increasing
+that lead at every stride.
+
+Allan threw back his head and fought for third place. On the next
+stretch footsteps sounded behind him. At the first corner Allan just
+succeeded in keeping the lead; on the short stretch, a Yale man passed
+him and left him as though standing. It was all up now; he was fifth,
+and there was no chance of bettering his position. The leader, well
+ahead of the Cornell man, was taking the last corner. The Yale man
+who had just passed Allan was taking third place hand over fist.
+The Technology runner was plainly faltering, and yet, thought Allan
+savagely, here was he, with all sorts of power of lung and muscle left,
+dragging along behind him!
+
+He clasped his hands tighter and threw himself forward. Fourth place
+was better than fifth, he told himself, and at least he would not be
+beaten by a man who was ready to fall. So up he went, working as hard
+to beat out the Technology runner as though first place was at stake.
+And beat him he did, and turned off of the track and walked back to the
+dressing-room apparently as untired as when he had started.
+
+“You lost that race,” said Kernahan, “when you lost your place in the
+first row. But don’t you care; you’ve learned a thing or two, and one
+of them’s to wait for the pistol.”
+
+“But I’m not decently winded,” Allan complained. “I could run the mile
+now, and yet those chaps beat me.”
+
+“Sprinting ability is what you’ve got to learn, my boy. And with three
+months before the dual----”
+
+“Hang the dual!” said Allan, petulantly. “I wanted to win this.”
+
+“Well, there’s the mile yet,” said Billy, soothingly.
+
+But the mile brought Allan scant satisfaction. He was given a handicap
+of thirty-five yards, and, although this time he was careful to wait
+for the pistol, he came to the conclusion when half the distance was
+run that he might as well drop out of the race. There were almost fifty
+entries, and it seemed less a race than a fast-moving procession. The
+turns were always filled with fellows elbowing and fighting, and after
+the half-distance it was hard to tell who the leaders were, so close
+they were to the tail-enders.
+
+Rindgely and Harris had also entered, and about the only satisfaction
+Allan was able to gather was derived from the fact that he had them
+beaten from the start. But the smaller handicaps allowed those youths
+had something to do with that. Allan never knew what number he was at
+the finish, and didn’t much care.
+
+In the dressing-room, Harris, Rindgely, Long, and Monroe--the latter
+the only Erskine entry who had won a place--were finding balm in the
+fact that Robinson hadn’t showed up in a single event.
+
+“Wait until the team race, though,” said Rindgely, darkly. “That’s
+where they’ll get us; you’ll see.”
+
+“Don’t believe it,” said Harris, stoutly. “When does it come off?”
+
+“After this, I think,” said Long. “Who’s got a program?”
+
+“That’s right,” said Monroe. “Hello, Ware! Say, that was a perfect
+mess, wasn’t it?”
+
+“Yes, it was,” growled Allan. “I never knew whether I was running this
+lap or the last one.”
+
+“Or the one ahead,” added Harris.
+
+“Thought you were going to do something,” said Rindgely. “You had a
+good chance.”
+
+“Did I?” Allan responded, with intense sarcasm. “All right, only I
+didn’t know it.”
+
+“Let’s get out of here and see the Harvard and Penn race,” Long
+suggested. “Where’s our team?”
+
+“They’re out there somewhere. Thatcher says we’re going to get it put
+all over us,” said Allan.
+
+“Thatcher’s an old raven,” said Harris, as they crowded out to where
+they could watch the race. “If he runs as well as he croaks, we’re all
+right.”
+
+Harvard secured the race with University of Pennsylvania, and though
+the result was not long in doubt, yet the crimson-clad runners were
+forced to better the record by three-fifths of a second. Then the
+clerk’s voice was heard at the dressing-room door:
+
+“All out for Erskine-Robinson Team Race! All out!”
+
+Of Erskine’s relay team, only Thatcher, the captain, was an experienced
+runner. The others--Poor, Gibbons, and Tolmann--had earned the right to
+represent the college at the trials, but for all of that were unknown
+quantities. They were all of them, Thatcher included, small men; Poor
+was little over five feet in height, and looked as though he had never
+had enough to eat. As they trotted around the track, getting warmed
+up, Robinson’s candidates overtopped them to a man. It was a big,
+long-limbed quartet that Robinson had sent, and had the result depended
+on height and length of leg alone the Brown would have had the race won
+at the start.
+
+Allan had secured a place near the front of the throng at the
+dressing-room door, and beside him, noticeable because of the evening
+clothes which he wore, was one of the officials, an inspector whose
+name was down on the program as “Horace L. Pearson, N. Y. A. C.” It was
+while the two teams were still warming up that Allan heard his name
+spoken, and turned to find Mr. Pearson in conversation with Harris.
+
+“Beg your pardon,” the inspector was saying, “but the man beyond you
+there is Ware, of your college, isn’t he?” But he wasn’t looking in
+Allan’s direction at all.
+
+“No, sir,” answered Harris, “that’s Rindgely.”
+
+“Sure of it?”
+
+“Quite, sir,” replied Harris, smiling.
+
+“Hm! I saw he was down on the card as Rindgely, but I thought maybe it
+was a mistake. What does the other man, Ware, look like?”
+
+“He’s here somewhere,” said Harris. And then his voice dropped and
+Allan, looking carefully away, felt the inspector’s gaze upon his
+face. He wondered what it might mean and why Rindgely had been mistaken
+for him, but his speculation was short-lived, for at that moment the
+pistol cracked and two runners, one with his white shirt crossed with
+a brown silk ribbon and the other bearing a purple E on his breast,
+sprang forward and fought for the lead at the first turn. The Erskine
+man was Thatcher and his opponent was named Guild. As they reached the
+other end of the track and sped past the dressing-room, conflicting
+shouts of encouragement from Erskine and Robinson supporters followed
+them.
+
+Thatcher had secured the pole at the start and had leaped into the lead
+at the turn. He was still ahead, but Guild was close behind him, his
+long strides seeming to be always on the point of taking him past, yet
+never doing so. Thatcher’s plan was plainly to hand over the race to
+the next runner of his team with a good, big margin of gain, trusting
+that, if unable to increase the advantage, the other Erskine men would
+at least hold what they had. But the big gain wasn’t forthcoming yet.
+
+As he neared the starting-point and the finish of the first of his two
+laps he strove desperately to leave his opponent, but it was not until
+the last lap was a third run that daylight opened up between the two.
+The Robinson chap was proving himself a worthy foe. Half-way around the
+last lap there was ten feet between Purple and Brown. From there on
+down to the mark, where the next two men stood with eager, outstretched
+hands, Thatcher gained and gained; but he had commenced late, and when
+Guild touched the hand of his team-mate and fell over into the arms of
+the Robinson trainer he was only fifteen yards to the bad.
+
+Gibbons, short of leg and rather heavy of build, was flying over the
+first turn as though possessed, and behind him pattered Thorpe of
+Robinson. Down the stretch they flew, while the band was drowned by
+the shouts of the onlookers. It was a pretty contest that, even though
+to discerning ones, at least, the end was not in doubt. Gibbons looked
+like a small whirlwind, and gave every indication of killing himself
+before the second lap was finished, but Thorpe, with long and easy
+strides, ate up the interval between them foot by foot, and when the
+second lap began was in position to take the lead whenever he wanted to.
+
+Half-way down the side he did so. Gibbons fought him off desperately
+for an instant, but at the turn Robinson led by a yard. Then it was
+that Gibbons surprised even his trainer, for, instead of steadily
+dropping back, he refused to yield an inch and chased Thorpe down to
+the finish like an avenging fate, crossing the line a bare yard behind
+him.
+
+That yard of advantage was five yards half through the next lap,
+Tolmann failing to prove a match for Brine of Robinson. Foot after foot
+and yard after yard opened up between them, and when the last lap began
+the Brown’s runner was an eighth of a lap ahead.
+
+“Well, that’s settled right now,” said Long, who had jostled his way to
+Allan’s side. “If we still had Thatcher we might stand some show, but I
+guess Poor can’t cut down that lead enough to make it look even close.”
+
+“Thatcher’s idea was all right,” said Allan, “but he didn’t know how
+good his man was. Robinson’s next man is her captain, I think, and I
+suppose he ought to be the best of the lot.”
+
+“He ought to be, but maybe he isn’t. Poor is a plucky little chap, and
+maybe he’ll give Jones a run for his money. Look at him!”
+
+At the other end of the hall Erskine’s last hope was leaning over the
+mark, one slim white arm thrust forward and one reaching impatiently
+back toward where Tolmann, swaying and gasping, was vainly striving
+to save the race. Poor looked plucky without a doubt, and when, after
+what seemed an age, Tolmann struck weakly at his hand and staggered
+off the track, he was off like a shot, his thin legs twinkling like a
+salmon-colored streak as he followed the Robinson captain. The latter
+was almost a quarter of a lap ahead and was running easily, yet keeping
+a watchful glance upon his opponent. And, as it proved, that watchful
+glance was not thrown away.
+
+The band blared forth a two-step with might and main, supporters of the
+rival colleges clapped, shouted, and shrieked, and the runners’ shoes
+_tap-tapped_ on the floor and pounded over the built-up corners.
+
+And then, of a sudden, a roar started among the audience and gathered
+volume and swept deafeningly across the great hall, and Allan,
+raising himself on tiptoes, gave a shout of joy. For just an instant
+or two after passing the second turn the Robinson captain had become
+inattentive to his pursuer, and in that brief moment Poor had literally
+eaten up space with his flying feet until now twenty yards would have
+spanned the distance between them. Jones, warned by the applause,
+leaped ahead, but Poor refused to yield an inch he had gained. More
+than that, he kept on gaining.
+
+The bell clanged the beginning of the last lap of the race and the
+Robinson runner swept over the line fifteen yards ahead of Poor, his
+long strides making the latter’s look ridiculously short by comparison.
+But if his strides were short, they were also rapid, and Poor, his
+little, weazened face screwed into an agony of effort, chased his
+opponent down in the next half lap, and at the second turn was barely
+two yards behind. Jones was plainly worried. As he pounded around the
+corner his right arm was thrust out in an involuntary effort to keep
+his opponent from passing him. But Poor was not able to do that on
+the turn, and for the next stretch their relative positions remained
+unchanged.
+
+As they dashed by the group at the dressing-room door, Allan and Long
+and Harris and the others shrieked exhortations and encouragement to
+their runner. Then the next turn was taken, Jones stumbled, saved
+himself, and led the way down the last stretch, his head back, his
+mouth wide open, and his speed lessening at every stride.
+
+But if he was ready to give up, so, too, was Poor, who had run a
+quarter of a lap farther than he. And all the way down that stretch the
+Robinson captain struggled and faltered and the Erskine runner dogged
+his steps, unable to pass him. And then something happened, and so
+quickly that it was all over before the sight had time to register the
+meaning of it on the brain.
+
+Half-way over the turn, and twenty yards from the finish, Jones swayed,
+tripped, and rolled over to the edge of the track, and Poor, less than
+two yards behind him, plunged blindly over him, sprawled and rolled
+along for three yards, and then, in some strange manner, found his feet
+and took up the running again. So, too, did Jones, but the larger man
+had fallen more heavily, and for an instant remained dazed upon the
+floor.
+
+That instant decided the race, for although he was up again almost
+before the audience had sensed the catastrophe, yet he had lost the
+lead. For the last few yards the two men, giddy, swaying, their heads
+fallen almost onto their breasts, strove weakly for the line. The next
+moment Poor threw out his arms and sprawled forward on his face across
+the chalk-mark and Jones, stumbling past him, fell, sliding on hands
+and knees to the edge of the track.
+
+Down by the dressing-room door Allan and the others were whooping it up
+joyfully, for Erskine had turned defeat into victory and won the relay
+by a scant three yards!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+ALLAN LEAVES THE CLUB TABLE
+
+
+March winds are freakish, prankish things, and the wind in the face of
+which Allan crossed the yard one morning a fortnight or so after the
+indoor meeting was no exception. He was on his way from Grace Hall to
+the Chemical Laboratory for a ten o’clock, and at the corner of the
+chapel he passed a couple of fellows whom a casual glance showed him he
+did not know. But that he was not a stranger to one of them was soon
+proven. The wind, scurrying around the corner of the chapel, tossed him
+the following fragment of conversation with startling distinctness:
+
+“Who’s that fellow, Steve?”
+
+“Ware, a freshie; he runs, or tries to. He was in the mile and two
+miles at Boston week before last and didn’t do a thing in either of
+them. Guess the Athletic Association will take his job away now. They
+just employed him to keep him in college, I guess. This thing of giving
+fellows work just because----”
+
+The words ended as suddenly as they had begun, so far as Allan was
+concerned, and he strode on to the laboratory. But his cheeks were
+burning and his heart was filled with wrath. For the first time he
+realized that his employment by the E. A. A. had a suspicious look, to
+say the least, while it was even probable that what the fellow he had
+overheard thought was really true. He was angry at the unknown youth
+for saying what he had, angry with Stearns for placing him in such a
+questionable position, and angry at Professor Nast for countenancing
+it. He wondered whether all the fellows he knew or who knew him
+believed as did the fellow he had passed, that he was knowingly
+allowing the Athletic Association to present him with money he was not
+earning.
+
+The blood dyed his face again, and he marveled at his blindness.
+Why had he not seen from the first that Stearns had secured him the
+place in the office merely to ensure his stay at college and his
+participation in the dual meet with Robinson? And hadn’t he more than
+half suspected all along? But no, he was guiltless of that charge.
+Credulous and blind he had been, but not dishonest. And dishonest he
+would not be now. He passed a miserable, impatient half-hour, and when
+it was over hurried to the office of the Athletic Association and found
+Professor Nast at his desk.
+
+The professor was a mild-mannered little man, rather nervous and
+seemingly indecisive, but he was executively capable and had much sound
+common sense. He viewed Allan’s arrival with mild curiosity, nodded
+silently, and turned back to his work. But Allan didn’t allow him to
+continue it.
+
+“How much am I worth here, sir, if you please?” he demanded,
+unceremoniously. The chairman looked somewhat startled and disconcerted.
+
+“Why--er--that is a difficult question to answer, Mr. Ware. But if
+you--ah--consider that you are not being paid enough, I shall be glad
+to consider the matter of increased remuneration if you will make out
+an application in writing, stating----”
+
+“Well, is my work here worth a dollar an hour, sir?”
+
+“Eh? A dollar an hour? I--er-- But I think you are receiving that
+amount, are you not?”
+
+“Yes, sir; and that’s what the trouble is.”
+
+“Trouble? Suppose you explain what you mean.”
+
+“Well, I--” He hesitated for words an instant and then threw politeness
+to the winds. “You’ve made me do what isn’t honest, you and Stearns,”
+he charged, angrily. “You offered me the work here just to keep me in
+college, so I could run at your old meet, and you gave me a dollar
+an hour for work that any one would do for half that money. Oh,
+I know it’s lots my fault,” he went on, silencing the professor’s
+remonstrances. “I ought to have guessed it, but I didn’t. I didn’t
+think a thing about it until to-day I overheard a fellow say in plain
+words that I was taking money I wasn’t earning. That’s a nice thing to
+have fellows say about you, isn’t it? And I dare say the whole college
+thinks just as he does, and--and----”
+
+“Hold up a minute,” said the professor, finally making himself heard.
+“You’re accusing Mr. Stearns and me of pretty hard things. Let’s talk
+this over quietly. Sit down, please.”
+
+Allan obeyed. The professor swung around in his chair until he faced
+him, clasped his hands over his vest, and gravely studied Allan’s angry
+countenance.
+
+“I’m not sure that you--ah--have any right to come here and charge
+me--or Mr. Stearns--with unfair dealings. But I will accord you the
+right, Mr. Ware, for I see that there has been a mistake made. It was,
+however, a mistake and nothing more, I assure you. Neither Mr. Stearns
+nor I had any intention of deceiving you. Allow me to finish, please,”
+he added, as Allan made an impatient movement.
+
+“It has been the custom here, of recent years, to give employment in
+this office to men who have needed the work, and preference has been
+given to athletes. If they have been paid more for their labor than
+that labor was really worth--and I am ready to grant that they usually
+have--the money with which they were paid has always come out of the
+general athletic fund and not from the college. I am not--ah--prepared
+to defend this custom; on the contrary, sir, I think it a very bad one,
+and I for one should be glad to see it discontinued. In your case,
+now, Mr. Stearns came and saw me and told me you needed employment.
+The place was vacant and I offered it to you at the terms which have
+always been paid. You are not earning one dollar an hour, Mr. Ware,
+and if you feel that you have been deceived by us, I am very sorry. No
+deception was intended on my part, and I am sure Mr. Stearns believed
+that you--er--understood the situation.”
+
+“I didn’t, though,” answered Allan, somewhat conciliated by the other’s
+manner. “I didn’t dream of it. I--I did think the work was rather easy
+considering the pay, but I thought maybe it would get harder, and
+that--that I could make up. If I had known the truth, I wouldn’t have
+had anything to do with the work.”
+
+“I am sorry, but, as I have said, there was no intent at deception.
+I offer you my apologies, and I am sure Mr. Stearns will be quite as
+regretful as I am. If there is anything I can do to better matters, I
+shall be delighted to do it, Mr. Ware.”
+
+“Yes, sir, there is. I’d like to keep on with the work until I have
+squared myself.”
+
+“You mean you want to work without wages?”
+
+Allan nodded. The professor considered the matter for a while in
+silence. Then--
+
+“If you insist,” he said, “we will make that arrangement. But there
+is another method that may answer fully as well. Are you averse to
+continuing the work at--er--a just remuneration?”
+
+“N-no, I suppose not,” Allan replied. “I need the work, and if you’ll
+pay me only what it’s worth I’d like to go ahead with it.”
+
+“I’m glad to hear you say so, for you have been very conscientious,
+Mr. Ware, and your services in the office have become valuable to
+me. I should dislike to make a change. Supposing, then, you continue
+at--ah--fifty cents an hour? Would that be satisfactory?”
+
+“Is it worth that much?” asked Allan, bluntly.
+
+“Yes, it honestly is; it is worth quite that. Well, and in regard
+to--ah--let us say arrears; I am working on the compilation of a rather
+difficult lot of statistics which are to be incorporated into my
+report. You could assist me vastly with that matter and could work,
+say, an hour three evenings a week. In that way, it seems to me, you
+could very shortly ‘square’ yourself, as you term it, and could, to
+some extent, choose your own time for doing so. What do you--ah--think?”
+
+Allan considered the matter. It sounded rather easy, and since an
+hour ago he had grown to view easy tasks with suspicion. But he could
+find no ground for objection, and in the end he accepted the proposal
+gratefully and stammered a somewhat lame apology for his hasty
+discourtesy. The Chairman of the Athletic Committee waved it politely
+aside.
+
+“We will consider it settled, then,” he said. “This afternoon we will
+decide on the hours for the extra work. I’m glad you brought this
+matter up, Mr. Ware, for I think the time has come to do away with a
+pernicious custom. Good morning.”
+
+On his way to his next recitation Allan reflected somewhat ruefully
+that under the new arrangement there was one thing which had been lost
+sight of, and that was a public vindication. As long as he continued
+to work in the office fellows would continue to think he was receiving
+money not earned. To be sure, he had the consolation of a clear
+conscience, but it was hard to have the fellows he knew and whose
+respect he craved think badly of him.
+
+But there Allan was mistaken, for the story got out in short
+order--Tommy saw to that!--and it wasn’t long before he heard an
+account of the matter, in which he figured as a model of indignant
+virtue and a galley-slave to conscience, from a fellow whom he knew
+very slightly. After that he had no doubts about public vindication.
+
+It was not a difficult matter to find three hours in the evening each
+week for the new labor, and he found it, since he had a fondness for
+mathematics, far more interesting than the daily letter-writing and
+clerical work. But five dollars a week wasn’t ten, and so, despite
+the protests of Pete and all the other members of the club table, he
+left the hospitality of Mrs. Pearson’s and went back to the college
+dining-hall, where he could, by careful management, make his monthly
+bill ridiculously small. Pete commanded and implored to be allowed to
+“fix things up” so that Allan need not leave the table; he almost wept;
+but Allan was obdurate. Pete even threatened to “let the table go hang”
+and return with Allan to Commons, but was finally dissuaded when Allan
+pointed out that in all probability he (Allan) would very shortly be
+taken onto the training-table of the track squad.
+
+So Pete accepted the inevitable and draped Allan’s chair with some
+dozen yards of black crêpe, and allowed none to occupy it for a week
+of mourning. But Allan wasn’t a stranger to the table, for every
+Saturday night he returned there as Pete’s guest and sat in his old
+seat and was made much of by the crowd.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+AN ALARM OF FIRE
+
+
+    “Mary had a little dog,
+       It was a noble pup;
+     ’Twould stand upon its front legs
+       When you’d hold its hind legs up!”
+
+Thus warbled Tommy as, having kicked the door shut, he subsided into
+one of Allan’s chairs by sliding over the back. Allan pushed his
+book away, yawned dismally, and looked over at his visitor mutely
+questioning:
+
+“Where’s Pete?” Tommy demanded.
+
+“Am I his keeper?” asked Allan.
+
+“You’re his _fidus whatyoucallit_. Seen him to-night?”
+
+“No; maybe he’s studying.”
+
+“Careless youth,” muttered Tommy. “Say, did you hear about Pete and
+Bœotia?”
+
+“No; who’s Bœotia, anyway?”
+
+“Oh, it’s that place in--er--ancient history, you know. It was at
+recitation this morning; Professor Grove asked Pete how Bœotia was
+situated. Pete wasn’t prepared, but he thought he’d make a bluff at it.
+So he gets up and drawls out in his cheerfully idiotic way, ‘Oh, he had
+a pretty good situation, but he lost it.’”
+
+“What did old Grove say?” laughed Allan.
+
+“Well, I wasn’t there and can’t tell you. I’m going to settle my debts
+this week, and we’ll have that dinner at the Elm Tree Saturday night,
+if that’s all right for you fellows.”
+
+“It’s all right for me,” said Allan.
+
+“The funny part of it is,” Tommy went on, smiling, “that I made just
+enough to pay for the dinner out of the reports of Pete’s drowning
+which I sent to the Boston paper. I got my account yesterday.”
+
+“Tell that to Pete,” laughed Allan.
+
+“I’m going to. Where’s the angel child?”
+
+“The angel child is probably out in the kitchen. I can’t keep her at
+home since vacation; she found out then where the grub comes from.”
+
+“I think she ought to go to the dinner with us, don’t you?”
+
+“Well, scarcely. Let’s go down to the ‘Ranch’ and see what Pete’s up
+to. I can’t study any more to-night.”
+
+Town Lane was as dark as pitch save at remote intervals where
+street lamps flickered half-heartedly, and to reach Pete’s domicile
+at night without breaking a limb was quite a feat. To-night nothing
+more exciting occurred than a collision with a stable door which was
+swinging open, and the two reached the corner to find Pete’s windows
+brightly illumined. Tommy, being in a musical mood, took up a position
+underneath and broke into song.
+
+    “Here ’neath thy window, Love, I am waiting,
+       Waiting thy sweet face to see,”
+
+he declared, strumming the while on an imaginary guitar. But the verse
+came to an end without signs from the window, and so they climbed the
+stairs. The “Ranch” was deserted. But even as they assured themselves
+of the fact by looking into the bedroom, soft footfalls sounded on the
+stairs from the third-story loft, and a moment after Pete, looking
+like a conspirator, crept into the front room and softly closed the
+door behind him. Then his eyes fell on Allan and Tommy, and he grinned
+mysteriously.
+
+“Where’d you come from?” Allan demanded.
+
+“Up-stairs.”
+
+“What’s doing up there?” asked Tommy, suspiciously.
+
+“Nothing at all.” But the grin remained. Tommy sniffed.
+
+“I’m going up to see,” he threatened.
+
+Pete sank into a chair, took up his pipe, and spread his hands apart as
+if to say, “Please yourself; believe me or not, as you like.” Then he
+lighted his pipe.
+
+“What have you done with your coat?” asked Allan. “And why are you
+festooned with cobwebs and decorated with dust?”
+
+“_Quien sabe?_” answered Pete, shrugging his broad shoulders.
+
+“Just the same, you’ve been up to something,” declared Allan, sternly.
+“And you’d better ’fess up.”
+
+“Huh!” grunted Pete.
+
+“Out with it!” commanded Tommy.
+
+“Huh!” said Pete again.
+
+“Sounds like a blamed old Indian, doesn’t he?” asked Tommy,
+disgustedly. “Well, don’t you come and beg me to intercede with the
+Dean for you.”
+
+The smile on Pete’s face broadened; he chuckled enjoyably; but commands
+and demands failed to move him to confession, and, after arranging for
+the dinner at the Inn, Allan and Tommy took their departure, Pete, for
+some reason and contrary to custom, making no effort to detain them. As
+they clambered down the steep stairs, Pete called after them:
+
+“Say, it would be a great night for a fire, wouldn’t it?”
+
+“Fire?” repeated Allan. “Why?”
+
+“Oh, such a dandy old high wind,” answered Pete. “Well, _adios_.”
+
+“Wonder what he meant?” said Allan, on the way back. “It would be just
+like him to get into another mess.”
+
+“About time,” chuckled Tommy. “Good night.”
+
+Allan went to bed soon after eleven, with Two Spot, according to
+nightly custom, curled up against the small of his back. For a while
+he lay awake listening to the howling and buffeting of the wind, but
+presently sleep came to him.
+
+It seemed hours later, but was in reality scarcely thirty minutes, when
+he awoke abruptly with the wild clanging of a bell in his ears. He sat
+up and listened. It was undoubtedly the fire-bell, and had he had any
+doubt about it the sound of running footsteps in the street would have
+convinced him at once.
+
+For a moment he weighed the prospective excitement of a conflagration
+against the comforts of the warm bed. In the end the fire offered
+greater inducements, and he leaped out of bed, lighted the gas, and
+tumbled into his clothes. And all the time the fire-bell clanged
+and clashed on the March wind. Leaving Two Spot to the undisputed
+possession of the bed, Allan left the house and looked expectantly
+about him. But there was no glow in the sky in any quarter; darkness
+reigned everywhere save about the infrequent street lamps. Here and
+there persons were running toward the fire-house, and Allan followed
+their example.
+
+Down Main Street he hurried, entered the yard back of the library,
+and cut across in the face of the buffeting wind to the beginning of
+Town Lane. When he reached Elm Street he was part of a steady stream
+of excited citizens and students, all hurrying anxiously toward where,
+half-way down the narrow thoroughfare, the brazen alarum was pealing
+deafeningly forth. And then, for the first time since he had awoke,
+Allan recollected Pete and his mysterious observation regarding fire.
+And instantly he knew that Pete and the fire-bell were in some way
+working mischief together.
+
+Pete’s rooms were in the building at the corner of Center Street,
+and next door stood the fire-house, a plain two-storied building,
+surmounted by a twenty-foot tower, at the top of which hung the bell.
+When Allan reached the scene the windows of Pete’s front room were
+brilliantly illumined, and from one of them hung Pete, exchanging
+lively salutations with friends in the throng below.
+
+For a moment Allan’s suspicions were deadened. In front of the
+fire-house the crowd jostled and craned their necks as they stared
+wonderingly upward to where the tower showed indistinctly against
+the midnight sky. On every hand were heard bewildered ejaculations,
+while members of the volunteer fire department ran hither and thither,
+questioning, suggesting, and plainly distracted. The big doors were
+open and inside the engine and hose-cart, horses in harness, were ready
+to sally forth the instant any one discovered where the fire was or
+why the bell clanged on and on without apparent reason. Through a hole
+in the ceiling a big rope descended, and at every clang of the bell it
+rose and fell again, and the building shook with the jar.
+
+“Hello, Allan! Isn’t this great?” shouted a voice in his ear, and Allan
+turned to find Hal, arrayed principally in a plaid dressing-gown and
+white duck cricket hat, grinning from ear to ear.
+
+“But--but what is it?” asked Allan, bewildered.
+
+“Don’t know; nobody knows. There’s the bell and there’s the rope; no
+one’s pulling it; must be spooks! Isn’t it jolly?” And Hal leaped with
+delight and thumped Allan on the back.
+
+“But why does the bell ring?” he asked, following the general example
+and staring upward at the tower.
+
+“That’s it! Why does it? Some say it’s the wind, but that’s poppycock,
+you know. What I think is that some one’s got a rope hitched to the
+bell and is pulling it from the back of the building somewhere; that’s
+what I think.”
+
+“But haven’t they been around there to see?”
+
+“Yes, but they’re so excited and fussed they wouldn’t know a rope if
+they fell over it. Some one’s having a lark, you can bet on that. Isn’t
+it a picnic? Just hear the old bell! Wow! Listen to that!”
+
+Allan put his mouth to Hal’s ear and whispered a single word. Hal
+started, shot a glance at Pete’s window and Pete himself, and burst
+into a gale of laughter.
+
+“D-d-do you think so?” he gasped. “But--how could he? Look, there he is
+at the window. O Pete!”
+
+“Hush up!” whispered Allan. “They’ll get onto it. Look, they’ve got a
+ladder! They’ll find out what’s up now, all right, because the rope
+will be hanging. We ought to warn Pete; come on!”
+
+They wormed their way through the crowd, exchanging shouts of
+salutation with acquaintances as they went, until they were under
+Pete’s window. There they found Tommy, note-book in hand, looking very
+important and excited.
+
+“O Pete!” shouted Allan. “Is your door unlocked?”
+
+“Hello, partner!” returned Pete in a happy bellow. “Isn’t this great?
+Here I sit at my parlor window and watch all the wealth, beauty and
+fashion of our charming metropolis. And, say, ain’t the racket fine?
+This is more noise than I’ve heard since a dynamite blast went off
+behind my back! Why, it’s almost like living in a city! Say, if you
+fellows----”
+
+“We want to come up,” shouted Allan. “Unlock your door.”
+
+Pete shook his head.
+
+“Not on your life, partner; I’ve only got my nightie on. Want me to
+freeze to death?”
+
+“Well, put something on,” said Allan anxiously, “and come down.”
+
+“’Fraid of catching cold. Besides, I must turn in now; I’m losing my
+beauty sleep.”
+
+“But--but, Pete, they’re--they’re putting up a ladder!” blurted Allan.
+
+“Are they?” asked Pete imperturbably. “Well, I’m not coming down to
+help ’em. They’ll have to get on without me, my boy. Hello, Hal, that
+you? Ain’t this wano? Such a cheerful----”
+
+Pete’s roar stopped suddenly, as did the noise of the crowd. Two
+firemen half-way up the ladder at the front of the building nearly fell
+off. For a sudden appalling silence gave place to the uproar! The bell
+was still!
+
+After a moment of startled surprise--for at first the silence seemed
+louder than the noise--every one broke into incoherent laughter and
+ejaculations. The men on the ladder paused, undecided, and finally slid
+back to earth to hold a consultation.
+
+“Well, ain’t that a shame!” lamented Pete. “Just when I was beginning
+to get sleepy! Now I’m all woke up again. Say, you chaps, wait a bit
+and I’ll slip something on and let you up.” He disappeared from the
+window and was gone some time. Then the key scraped in the door at the
+foot of the stairs and Allan, Hal, and Tommy slipped through. Pete,
+standing guard, locked the portal in the faces of several undesired
+fellows and followed them up-stairs.
+
+As Allan entered the room he glanced eagerly around. Just what he
+expected to find would have been hard to say, but whatever it was he
+didn’t find it. The room presented its usual appearance, save that
+articles of apparel lay scattered widely about just wherever Pete had
+happened to be when they came off. Pete locked the room door, took his
+pipe from the table and proceeded to fill it. The others looked about
+the room, looked at each other and looked at Pete. Pete scratched a
+match, lighted his corn-cob and smiled easily back. Allan sank into the
+easy chair.
+
+“How--how did you do it?” he gasped.
+
+“Do it? Do what?” asked Pete, blowing a cloud of smoke toward the open
+window. Outside sounds told of the dispersing of the throng.
+
+“You know what,” said Allan.
+
+Pete went to the window, called good night to an acquaintance, closed
+the sash and ambled back, smiling enjoyably.
+
+“Wasn’t it moocha wano?” he asked. “Just answer me that, Allan. Did
+anything ever go off more beautifully, with more--er--_éclat_, as we
+say in Paree? Is your Uncle Pete the boss, all-star bell-ringer? Did
+you get on to the expression, the--the phrasing? Did you----”
+
+“Shut up, Pete,” said Hal, grinning. “Tell us about it. Go on, like a
+good chap.”
+
+“There’s little to tell,” said Pete with becoming modesty. “Up
+there”--he pointed toward the ceiling--“is a loft. Over there is a
+bell. Bring a rope from the bell into the back window of the loft,
+down-stairs and through that door and--there you are! Quite simple.”
+
+“But, look here,” piped up Tommy. “You were at the window when the bell
+was doing its stunts. How--how was that?”
+
+“Simple, too,” answered Pete, waving aside a cloud of smoke. “There was
+a noose in the end of the rope and the noose fitted over my knee as I
+kneeled on the floor. It was hard work and I guess the hide’s about
+wore off, but it was all for the sake of Art.”
+
+The three deluged him with questions simultaneously, and Pete, sitting
+nonchalantly on the edge of the table, answered them as best he could.
+
+“But how about the rope?” asked Allan finally. “They’ll see it and
+trace it through the window.”
+
+“Oh, no, they won’t, because, my boy, it isn’t there any longer. When
+I said I’d put something on and let you fellows in, I cut it off at
+the foot of the tower and brought my end of it away. They’ll find a
+rope there, all right, but they’ll never guess it went through the back
+window. Besides, I can prove an alibi,” he ended, with a generous and
+virtuous smile.
+
+“That’s so,” answered Tommy. “We saw you at the window.”
+
+“When the bell was ringing,” added Hal.
+
+“And I saw both his hands,” supplemented Allan.
+
+“Yes, I meant you should,” said Pete. Going to the trunk he took from
+behind it the lariat which usually hung on the wall, and from one end
+of it detached a few feet of hemp rope. This he put into the stove. The
+lariat he replaced upon the wall.
+
+“Thus we destroy all evidences of guilt,” he said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+PETE PUTS THE SHOT
+
+
+For a few days following the mysterious serenade on the fire-bell
+there was an epidemic of mild colds throughout the college; and as
+each fellow who had a cold was able and eager to tell--through his
+nose--what had happened at the fire-house, it would seem that there
+might have been some connection between the affliction and the midnight
+occurrence. But no serious illness resulted, and so we may leniently
+assert that no harm came of Pete’s joke.
+
+Not that any one knew it was Pete’s joke, save the quartet and one
+other. The one other was Mr. Guild, out at Hillcrest. When morning
+came the severed rope hung in plain sight from the bell tower, and
+although it told clearly what had happened, yet it threw no light
+on the identity of the culprit. Of course every one--townfolk
+especially--declared it to have been a student prank, but none
+suspected Pete Burley, for it apparently entered no one’s head that
+the bell might have been rung from Pete’s room. The perpetrator was
+popularly believed to have been hidden in some near-by yard.
+
+That Pete’s innocence was never questioned was a lucky thing for Pete,
+because the faculty would have viewed the affair in the light of a last
+straw, and Pete’s connection with Erskine College would have ceased
+then and there. As it was, the affair remained forever a mystery.
+
+Mr. Guild heard the story a few days later, when the quartet drove out
+to Hillcrest in a rattle-trap carryall and spent the afternoon. This
+was the second visit the fellows had made to the owner of the ducks
+since the beginning of the term. Mr. and Mrs. Guild had been in the
+South for two months, and after their return, in February, the snow had
+made the roads almost impassable. Hal and Tommy had been introduced on
+the occasion of the previous visit and had been cordially welcomed. Mr.
+Guild enjoyed the story of the bell-ringing and laughed heartily over
+it.
+
+“That’s a better joke, Burley,” he said, “than that drowning business
+of yours. That was a trifle too grim to be wholly humorous. And when I
+remember the way I had the river dragged for your lifeless body, and
+expected to see it every time the men drew the grapples up, I--well, I
+hope your dinner the other night choked you.”
+
+But it hadn’t. The dinner had passed off very successfully, and save
+that Hal had partaken of too much pie and had sat up in bed until
+three o’clock in the morning well doubled over, it had been an affair
+worthy of being long remembered. Even Pete, who claimed the right to be
+severely critical, had found nothing to find fault with, save, perhaps,
+the fact that in winning the banquet he had unwittingly provided the
+money to pay for it!
+
+The second week in March witnessed the return of the track team
+candidates to practise in the gymnasium. Spring was unusually late
+that year--perhaps you recollect the fact?--and several feet of snow
+hid the ground until well toward the last of March. But meanwhile
+the candidates, thirty-eight in number, were divided into two squads
+and were daily put through chest-weight and dumb-bell exercises and
+sent careening around the running track. Allan, who since his failure
+to “make good”--in the language of the undergraduate--had been
+somewhat disgusted and down in the mouth, with the return to practise
+experienced a renewal of faith in himself and his abilities. Billy
+Kernahan laughed at his pessimistic utterances and assured him that
+outdoor work would do wonders for him.
+
+Meanwhile Hal was hard at work with the freshman baseball squad and was
+turning out to be something of a “star” at the bat. Tommy, who during
+the winter months had found much difficulty in keeping himself busy,
+was as happy as a lark, since the awakening activity in athletics,
+the class debates and the final debate with Robinson afforded him
+opportunities to perform wonderful feats of reporting and gave him
+almost as much work to do as even he could desire.
+
+Pete was left forlorn. Of the quartet he alone had no interest in life
+save study; and without wishing to be hard on Pete, I am nevertheless
+constrained to say that in his case study as an interest was something
+of a failure. He managed to stand fairly well in class, but this
+was due rather to an excellent memory than to any feats of severe
+application. When, toward the last of March, the baseball men and the
+track team went outdoors, he was more deserted than ever. Hal and Allan
+were inaccessible to him save in the evenings, and even then insisted
+on studying. As for Tommy----
+
+“You might as well try to put your thumb on a flea as to try and locate
+Tommy,” he growled aggrievedly. “I tried to meet up with him on Monday,
+and the best I could do was to find out where he had been last seen on
+Saturday. I haven’t caught up with him yet, by ginger!”
+
+“Why don’t you go in for something?” asked Hal. “Try baseball.”
+
+“Baseball!” grunted Pete. “What do I know about baseball? It would take
+me a month to learn the rudiments of the game. I’ll go out for spring
+football practise next month, but that only lasts a couple of weeks,
+they say, and after that I guess I’ll pack up and go home.”
+
+“Try golf,” said Allan, with a wicked smile. Pete snorted.
+
+“I’d look well hitting a little ball with a crooked stick, wouldn’t I?”
+he asked disgustedly. “No; I may be a blamed fool, but I know better
+than to make such a show of myself as that.”
+
+In the end Pete found an interest, and the manner of it was strange. It
+happened in this wise.
+
+It was a few days before the class games. If his friends would not come
+to him, Pete could, at least, go to his friends. And so he had got into
+the way of walking out to the field in the afternoon and watching Hal
+on the diamond or Allan on the track. Sometimes he had a word or two
+with them; but at all events it was better, he thought, than moping
+about the college. The scene was a lively and, when the weather was
+bright, a pretty one. To-day the sky was almost cloudless, the sun
+shone warmly and there was a quality to the air that made one want to
+do great things, but yet left one content to do nothing.
+
+When Pete approached the field he saw that the varsity and freshman
+baseball teams were both at practise, that the lacrosse candidates--whose
+antics always amused him--were racing madly about at the far corner of
+the enclosure, and that the track men were on hand in force. The scene
+was full of life and color and sound. Pete broke into song:
+
+    Sam Bass was born in Indiana, it was his native home,
+    And at the age of seventeen young Sam began to roam;
+    He hit the trail for Texas a cowboy for to be,
+    And a kinder-hearted feller you’d never hope to see.
+
+Pete’s voice was untrained but hearty. Had the tune been more melodious
+the effect would possibly have been more pleasing. As it was, the
+adventures of Sam Bass were chanted--as they always have been where
+Pete came from--in a melancholy reiteration of some half-dozen notes
+that threatened in the course of time to become terribly monotonous.
+
+    Sam used to own a thoroughbred known as the Denton mare;
+    He matched her in scrub races and took her to the fair.
+    He always coined the money and spent----
+
+The song died away to a low rumble as Pete stooped and picked up
+a battered sphere of lead which lay on the sod before him. It was
+surprisingly heavy and he wondered what it was. Then his gaze fell on
+a lime-marked circle a few yards away, and it dawned upon him that the
+thing he held was a sixteen-pound shot, such as he had seen the fellows
+throw. Near-by the sod was dented and torn where the weight had
+struck. Pete hefted the thing in one hand and then the other. Then he
+raised it head-high and threw it toward the circle. It narrowly missed
+smashing the stop-board. Pete took up his song once more:
+
+    He started for the Collins ranch, it was the month of May,
+    With a herd of Texas cattle, the Black Hills for to see.
+
+He picked up the shot again and looked about him. There was nobody
+near, and of those at a distance none was paying him any attention. So
+he laid his pipe on the ground, balanced the shot in his right hand,
+stepped to the front of the circle and sent it through the air. It
+described a good deal of an arc and came down about eight paces away.
+Pete was sure he could beat that, so he strolled over and recovered
+the weight, and, humming lugubriously the while, strolled back and
+tried it over again. This time it went a few feet farther and Pete was
+encouraged. He took off his coat and rolled his sleeves up, spat on his
+hands and seized that lump of lead with determination.
+
+Up near the finish of the mile, by the side of the track, Allan was in
+conversation with Kernahan. Suddenly he stopped, smiled, and pointed
+down the field.
+
+“For goodness’ sake,” he exclaimed, “look at Pete Burley trying to put
+the shot!”
+
+Billy turned and watched. When the shot had landed, he asked:
+
+“Has he ever tried that before?”
+
+“No, indeed; Pete’s stunt is football.” Kernahan smiled.
+
+“Sure. I remember him now. Well, you try a few sprints of thirty yards
+or so, and I guess that’ll do for to-day. That stride’s coming along
+all right; don’t be in too big a hurry. To-morrow do a slow mile and a
+few starts. Then you’d better knock off until the meeting.”
+
+Allan nodded, turned and jogged away up the track. Billy strolled
+toward Pete. When he drew near his ears were greeted with a plaintive
+wail:
+
+    Sam Bass was born in Indiana, it was his native home,
+    And at the age of seventeen young Sam began to roam;
+    He hit the trail----
+
+Away sped the shot, and fell with a thud fully thirty feet distant.
+Pete grunted. Billy’s face lighted. Pete wiped the perspiration from
+his brow with the back of one big hand and strolled after the shot.
+When he turned back he saw the trainer. He looked somewhat abashed and
+showed a disposition to drop the weight where he stood. But he thought
+better of it.
+
+“Taking a little exercise,” he explained, carelessly.
+
+Billy nodded.
+
+“Good idea,” he said. “Don’t throw it, but push it right away from you
+as though you were punching some one. You get it too high.”
+
+“Oh, I was just fooling with it,” said Pete.
+
+“I know; but you try it, and don’t let it go so high.”
+
+The first attempt was a dismal failure, the shot scarcely covering
+twenty feet. Billy’s presence embarrassed the performer.
+
+“Try it again,” said Billy. Pete hesitated. Then,
+
+“All right,” he said, cheerfully.
+
+This time he did better than ever, and Billy paced off the distance.
+
+“About thirty-two feet,” he announced. “That’ll do for to-day.”
+
+“Huh?” said Pete.
+
+“That’s enough for this time. You don’t want to lame your muscles, if
+you haven’t done it already.”
+
+“Oh, my muscles will stand it,” answered Pete. “Do ’em good to get
+lame, I guess.” But Billy shook his head.
+
+“No, that won’t do. You leave off now and report to me to-morrow at
+four-thirty.”
+
+“What for?” asked Pete, in surprise.
+
+“For practise. We’ll try you in the meet next Friday.”
+
+“No, I guess not,” said Pete, shaking his head. “If you had a roping
+contest I might try my hand, but these athletic stunts have me beat.”
+
+“Never mind about that,” answered the trainer, “you do as I say. We
+need you, and we’re going to have you. Four-thirty, remember; and you’d
+better get some togs.”
+
+He nodded and walked away. Pete, staring after him, expressed his
+surprise by a long whistle.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+TRACK AND FIELD
+
+
+The class games were notable that spring merely because they
+brought into sudden prominence a new and promising candidate in the
+shot-putting event, one Peter Burley, ’07, of Blackwater, Colo. To be
+sure, Pete didn’t break any records, nor did he come out first, but he
+contributed one point to the scant sum of the freshman class total by
+taking third place with a put of thirty-nine feet, four and one-half
+inches. Pete’s appearance in athletic circles was a surprise to the
+college at large, and those who remembered his prowess at football
+and took his size and apparent strength into consideration jumped
+to the conclusion that here was a “dark horse” that was going to
+carry everything before him and break the college record into minute
+particles. Personally, Pete viewed his participation as a good joke,
+but he wasn’t quite certain whom the joke was on.
+
+It was evident that he had it in him to become a first-rate man at
+the weights, and Kernahan viewed his “find” with much satisfaction.
+Erskine had for two years past been rather weak in that line of
+athletics, and Billy had visions of developing the big Westerner into
+a phenomenal shot-putter and hammer-thrower; though, for the present,
+at least, he said nothing to Pete about the hammer, for fear the latter
+would mutiny. Pete had had only three days of practise under Billy’s
+instruction prior to the class games, but in that time he had mastered
+one or two of the principal points and had thereby added seven feet to
+his best performance of Monday.
+
+Billy was more than satisfied, the rival shot men, who had viewed
+Pete’s appearance among them at first with amused indifference, were
+worried, and Pete was-- But truly it is hard to say what Pete was. The
+whole thing was something of a joke to him, and possibly mild amusement
+was his principal sensation, although he was probably glad to be able
+to please the trainer, who had taken a good deal of trouble with him,
+and to add a point to the tally of his class.
+
+But after the class games amusement gave place to surprise and dismay,
+for Billy informed him that the spring meeting would take place a week
+later, and that by diligent practise meanwhile he ought to be able to
+add another two feet to his record. Pete had been laboring under the
+impression that his troubles were over with the class games, and he
+promptly rebelled. But rebellion didn’t work with Billy; he was used
+to it. He had a method of getting his own way in things that was a
+marvel of quiet effectiveness; and so Pete concluded when, on the next
+Monday, he was once more out on the field “tossing the cannon ball,” as
+he sarcastically called it.
+
+All that week, up to the very morning of the spring track meeting, he
+stood daily in the seven-foot circle and practised with the shot, while
+Kernahan patiently coached him. Pete had the height, build and strength
+for the work, but it was the hardest kind of a task for him to grasp
+the subtleties of the hop and the change of feet. I am inclined to
+think that Billy’s oft-repeated explanations went for little, and that
+in the end--but this was not until he had been at practise for almost a
+month--he learned the tricks himself by constant experimenting.
+
+The actual putting was very soon mastered, but for weeks Pete’s best
+efforts were spoiled because he either overstepped the ring or left
+himself too far from the front of it. But when the spring meeting came
+he climbed to second place, Monroe alone keeping ahead of him. The
+latter’s best put was forty-three feet ten inches, and Pete’s forty-one
+feet three inches.
+
+Monroe seemed to Pete to view the latter’s efforts as beneath notice,
+and Pete resented that from the first. As was to be expected by any
+one knowing Pete, Monroe’s attitude was accepted as a challenge, and
+Pete vowed he would beat the college crack if he had to work all night
+to do it. From that time on Billy found no necessity for pleading; Pete
+was always on hand when half past four came around, and none was more
+earnest than he, none worked so hard. Pete had found his interest.
+
+Meanwhile Allan had done fairly well in both meets. In the class games
+he had entered for the two miles and the mile, had won the first by a
+bare yard from Rindgely and in the latter had finished third behind
+Hooker and Harris. At Billy’s advice he relinquished the mile event
+thereafter and became a two-miler pure and simple. As Billy pointed
+out, either Rindgely or Hooker--and possibly Harris, who was coming on
+fast--was capable of beating Robinson at the mile, and it was better
+for Allan to put all efforts into the two miles, in which, so far as
+was known, Robinson at present excelled. Allan had hard luck at the
+spring meeting, getting away badly in the first place and taking a
+tumble in the next to the last lap that put him out of the race so
+far as the places were concerned. Conroy staggered in ten yards ahead
+of Rindgely, Harris securing third place, and Allan finishing a poor
+fourth.
+
+By this time the training table was started, and Pete, much to his
+delight, temporarily deserted the freshman club table up-stairs and
+moved to the first-floor front room, where Allan, Rindgely, Hooker,
+Harris, Conroy, Stearns, Thatcher, Poor, Leroy, Monroe, Long, and
+several others whose names we have not heard, were congregated under
+the vigilant eyes of Billy Kernahan. I don’t think Pete was properly
+impressed with the honor conferred upon him by his admission to the
+training table, but he was glad to be with Allan again and rather
+enjoyed the novelty of having his meals arranged for him. If it had not
+been that training required the relinquishment of his beloved corn-cob
+pipe, I think Pete in those days would have been perfectly happy.
+
+Meanwhile, at another training table farther around the bend of Elm
+Street, Hal was one of the stars of the freshman nine. Of the quartet,
+Tommy only was not head over ears in athletics, but the fact didn’t
+trouble him a scrap. He had all he could do--and a trifle more--and
+was laboring, besides, under the harmless delusion that the college’s
+success on diamond, track, and river depended largely upon his
+supervision and advice. Whenever he had time, which wasn’t very often,
+he delighted to stand beside the lime-marked ring and offer gems of
+instruction in the art of putting the shot to Pete. And Pete, who was
+miserable without companionship, stood it smilingly for the sake of
+Tommy’s presence. In the evenings Tommy frequently found a moment or
+two in which to look up Allan or Hal and give them the benefit of his
+advice regarding playing second base or running the two miles. But
+those young gentlemen exhibited a strange and lamentable impatience,
+and Tommy quite often left their presence under compulsion or just
+ahead of a flying boot.
+
+Meanwhile the spring vacation came and went. Of the quartet, Hal and
+Tommy went home, and Allan and Pete stayed at college, Allan from
+motives of economy and Pete because nothing better offered.
+
+After recess baseball held the boards and the varsity team was half-way
+through its schedule by the first week in May, and had but two defeats
+behind it. On the track the candidates were put through their paces
+six days a week. Erskine was almost sure of victories in the sprints,
+equally certain of defeats in the middle distances, expected to win the
+mile, was in grave doubt as to the two miles, and hoped to share the
+hurdles with her opponent. In the field events, the high jump alone was
+certain to yield a first to the Purple. The pole vault, broad jump, and
+both weight events were of doubtful outcome. As Tommy figured it out
+in the columns of “his” paper about this time, Erskine had a chance of
+winning by seven points. But as second and third places were almost
+impossible to apportion with any accuracy, this forecast was not of
+much value. The dual games with Robinson came on May 28th. A fortnight
+before that Allan’s work was stretched over six days, as follows:
+
+Monday, a two-mile run at an easy pace.
+
+Tuesday, a fast mile, followed by an easy three-quarters.
+
+Wednesday, a hard, fast mile.
+
+Thursday, two miles and a half in easy time.
+
+Friday, a mile and a half at medium speed.
+
+Saturday, a time trial over the two miles.
+
+This was hard work and lots of it, but Allan’s physical condition
+could scarcely have been bettered, and never, from the beginning of
+outdoor practise until the big event was over with, did he go “fine”
+for a moment. Twelve days before the meet Allan had his last trial, and
+when, still running strongly, he crossed the finish line, Billy’s watch
+clicked at 9:53⅝.
+
+Billy smiled cheerfully enough, but down in his heart he was
+disappointed. He had expected better things.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+SUNSHINE AND SHADOW
+
+
+I have never found any one with sufficient courage to defend the
+winters at Centerport. At the best they are bearable, at the worst they
+are beyond description. Nothing any one might say would be too harsh to
+apply to what the residents call “a hard winter.”
+
+In short, from January to April the weather is everything detestable,
+and reminds one of a very bad little boy who has made up his very bad
+little mind to be as very bad as he possibly can.
+
+And then--as like as not between a sunset and a sunrise--spring
+appears, and it is just as though the very bad little boy had grown
+sorry and repentant and had made up his mind to be very, very good
+and sweet and kind, and never do anything to grieve his dear, _dear_
+parents any more. And there is a soft, warm breeze blowing up the river
+valley, the grass on the southern side of the library is unmistakably
+green, a bluebird, or maybe a valiant robin, is singing from a branch
+of the big elm at the corner of the chapel, and there is a strong,
+heartening aroma of moist earth in your nostrils. And you know that
+from thenceforth until you leave the old green town the last of June
+your lines are cast in pleasant places and that it is going to be very
+easy to be happy and good.
+
+Well, I suppose there are other places where spring is superlatively
+pleasant, where the trees and sod are extravagantly green, and where
+youth finds life so well worth living. Only--I have never found them.
+And I doubt if there is an old Erskine man the country over who can
+recollect the month of May at Centerport without a little catch of the
+breath and a sudden lighting of the eye.
+
+For in those Mays his memory recalls Main Street and the yard were
+canopied with a swaying lacework of whispering elm branches, through
+which the sunlight dripped in golden globules and splashed upon the
+soft, velvety sod or moist gravel and spread itself in limpid pools.
+And the ivy was newly green against the old red brick buildings, the
+fence below College Place was lined with fellows you knew, and the
+slow-moving old blue watering-cart trundled by with a soft and pleasant
+sound of splashing water. Fellows called gaily to you as you crossed
+the yard, the muslin curtains at the windows of Morris and Sesson were
+a-flutter in the morning breeze, and from Elm Street floated the
+musical and monotonous chime of the scissor-grinder’s bells. What if
+the Finals were close at hand? The sky was blue overhead, the spring
+air was kind and--you were young!
+
+I think something of this occurred to Allan when, at a quarter of ten
+on a mild, bright morning three days before the dual meet, he crossed
+the street from his room, books under arm, and turned into College
+Place.
+
+Perched on the fence in front of the chapel were Clarke Mason, the
+editor of the Purple, and Stearns, the track team captain. After
+exchanging greetings, Allan dropped his books back of the fence and
+swung himself onto the top rail.
+
+The sun was pleasant, the ten o’clock bell would not ring for several
+minutes, and there was an invitation in the way in which Mason edged
+away from the post. Allan was a warm admirer of Mason, and the fact
+that, as was natural, he seldom had an opportunity to speak with him
+made him glad of the present opportunity. There was but one topic of
+overwhelming interest at present, and that was the track and field meet
+with Robinson. With two successive defeats against them, and the added
+result of the last football game still in memory, it is not strange
+that Erskine men had set their hearts on administering a trouncing to
+the Brown and regaining something of their old athletic prestige. The
+boat race and the baseball contests were too far distant for present
+consideration.
+
+“I don’t know when there’s been so much enthusiasm over the athletic
+meet as there is this year,” said Mason. “And it’s bound to tell, too.
+I’ve noticed that when the college as a whole wakes up and wants a
+thing it generally comes pretty near getting it.”
+
+“We wanted the football game badly enough,” said Stearns.
+
+“Yes, just as we want all of them, but there wasn’t the enthusiasm
+there has been some years. I think we expected to win, and so didn’t
+get much wrought up over it. But next year--although you and I won’t
+be here to see it, Walt--I’ll bet the college will be red-headed over
+football; there’ll be mass-meetings and the band up from Hastings, and
+Ware here will be marching out to the field singing ‘Glory, Glory for
+the Purple’ at the top of his lungs. And the team will just naturally
+go in and win.”
+
+“At that rate,” ventured Allan, “we ought to lick Robinson on Saturday,
+for, as you say, the fellows are all worked up over it.”
+
+“I think we’re going to,” answered Mason, with quiet conviction. “But,
+of course, I don’t know so much about it as Walt here, and he says I’m
+off my reckoning.”
+
+Allan looked at the captain with surprise. All along Stearns had
+displayed a confidence that, in Allan’s case at least, had been a great
+incentive to hard work. Stearns frowned a little as he answered:
+
+“Oh, well, maybe to-morrow I’ll be hopeful again. A fellow can’t help
+having a spell of nerves now and then, you know.”
+
+“Well, if it’s only that, we’ll forgive you,” Mason replied. “I thought
+maybe something had happened. Things have a way of happening, I’ve
+noticed, just before a meet; Jones lames his ankle, Brown is put on
+probation, Smith is protested, or something else unforeseen plays
+havoc.”
+
+“That’s so,” said Stearns, emphatically, “and maybe one reason I feel
+uneasy is because nothing _has_ happened; Robinson hasn’t protested any
+one and no one has sprained his ankle or got water on the knee. I think
+I’d feel safer if something of the sort had occurred.”
+
+“Well, I guess you’re safe now,” laughed Mason. “The men have quit
+practise and Robinson’s opportunity for protesting our best men has
+passed.”
+
+“I don’t know,” said Stearns, doubtfully. “Something will turn up, you
+see if it doesn’t.”
+
+“Nonsense! How about you, Ware? Going to win the two miles?”
+
+“I’m scared to think about it,” answered Allan, uneasily. “That
+Robinson crack can do better than I’ve succeeded in doing yet, and so I
+guess I’ll have to be satisfied with second place.”
+
+“Oh, Ware’s all right,” said Stearns, encouragingly. “He’s going to
+present us with five points, and we’ll need ’em!”
+
+This sounded more like the Stearns Allan was accustomed to.
+
+“They tell me that chum of yours, Burley, is going to do great things
+with the shot, Ware,” said Mason, questioningly.
+
+“I hope so,” Allan answered. “He can, all right; the only thing is
+whether he will get fussed and forget how; he’s funny that way.”
+
+“Well, Billy thinks he’s a wonder, and says that by next year he’ll
+be able to give a foot to the best college man in the country. Well,
+there’s the bell. I hate to waste a day like this indoors, but--needs
+must when the faculty drives!”
+
+The trio slipped off the fence and went their separate ways, but before
+they parted Stearns drew Allan aside.
+
+“I say, Ware,” he said, “don’t say anything to any one about what--what
+you’ve heard. There’s no use in discouraging them, you know, and what
+I just said doesn’t amount to anything; I guess I’m feeling a bit
+nervous. You understand?”
+
+But Allan, as he crossed the yard to College Hall, in the tower of
+which the bell was clanging its imperative summons, couldn’t help
+feeling apprehensive and worried. It was so unlike Stearns to admit
+even the possibility of defeat. On the steps Allan ran against Pete,
+big, smiling, and serenely satisfied with life.
+
+“How’d you get on yesterday?” asked Allan, as they went in together.
+
+“Oh, pretty middlin’,” said Pete, cheerfully. “I got within four inches
+of that cayuse of a Monroe.”
+
+“But you’ll have to beat him if you expect to win over Robinson,” said
+Allan, anxiously.
+
+“Oh, I’m not bothering about Robinson,” answered Pete. “If I can do up
+Monroe, that’s all I give a hang about!”
+
+The next afternoon, Thursday, Stearns appeared at Allan’s room, looking
+excessively cheerful.
+
+“Hello!” he said, as he sat down. “How are things?”
+
+“All right,” answered the other, wondering at the track captain’s
+errand. “How about you?”
+
+“Fine as silk,” he said. “Say, Ware, Robinson has sent a foolish
+letter, and asks the committee to look up your record. Of course,” he
+went on, carelessly and hurriedly, “it’s all poppycock, but they think
+they have a case, and so maybe you’d better walk over with me and see
+Nast about it; just explain things so he can write back to ’em, you
+know. Are you busy?”
+
+Allan, bewildered and dismayed, looked across at Stearns with wide eyes
+and sinking heart. The track team captain’s forebodings of yesterday
+flashed into memory, and it was with a very weak voice that he asked
+finally:
+
+“You mean that--that Robinson has protested me?”
+
+Stearns laughed carelessly, but something in the other’s tone sent a
+qualm of uneasiness to his heart.
+
+“Oh, there’s no question of a protest,” he answered, “because the time
+for protests has gone by. But, of course, they knew the committee would
+investigate the matter, and that if everything wasn’t all right they
+wouldn’t allow you to run. But, of course, as I say, it’s all nonsense.
+They say you were entered in the mile run at the St. Thomas Club Meet,
+in Brooklyn, during vacation, and came in third. And--and there’s a
+silly newspaper clipping with your name in it. But, as I told Nast, you
+can explain that all right, I guess. Fact is, you know,” he continued,
+with a little annoyed laugh, “you’ve got to; we can’t afford to lose
+you, Ware.”
+
+Allan took his cap from the desk.
+
+“Come on,” he said, quietly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+A NEWSPAPER PARAGRAPH
+
+
+During the short walk across the yard little was said. Stearns now
+and then shot puzzled and anxious glances at Allan’s face, but the
+latter looked straight ahead of him, and Stearns learned nothing. In
+the office Professor Nast approached the subject at once. The Robinson
+authorities, he stated, had written, saying that Ware had won third
+prize in the mile event at an indoor meet of the St. Thomas Club,
+in Brooklyn, on the evening of December 26th, and in support of the
+contention enclosed a clipping from a newspaper. The clipping was
+handed to Allan, and he read, opposite a big blue pencil mark:
+
+“Mile run--Won by E. C. Scheur, N. Y. C. C. A. (45 yds.); second, T.
+Webb, St. T. A. A. (45 yds.); third, A. Ware, E. A. A. (50 yds.).
+Time--4m. 47s.”
+
+Allan returned the clipping calmly.
+
+“You understand,” said the professor, gently, “that the mere fact
+of your having entered this meeting without permission would not of
+itself render you ineligible on Saturday. The trouble is that the
+meeting”--here he tapped the newspaper clipping with his pencil--“was
+not an amateur affair; the prizes were purses of money, and, being an
+‘open’ meeting, there were, as you may see, a number of professionals
+participating. That--er--is the difficulty.”
+
+“I know nothing about it,” said Allan, quietly.
+
+Stearns sank back in his chair with a long sigh of relief. “I told you
+it was all nonsense!” he exclaimed. The professor himself looked well
+pleased.
+
+“I did not run in that meeting,” continued Allan. “I have been in
+Brooklyn but once, and that was fully six years ago.”
+
+“I am very glad to hear it,” said the professor, “very glad. Now,
+while I am not in duty bound to explain the matter to the Robinson
+authorities, yet it is better for various reasons to do so. And there
+is one thing--” He paused and tapped the desk frowningly. “About this
+clipping?” he asked. Allan shook his head.
+
+“I’m afraid I can’t explain that. Perhaps there’s another ‘A. Ware’ and
+perhaps ‘E. A. A.’ stands for something else besides Erskine Athletic
+Association.”
+
+“Stands for lots of things, probably,” said Stearns, a bit impatiently.
+
+“We might find that out,” mused the professor. “Where were you, Ware,
+that evening, the--ah--yes, the twenty-sixth of December?”
+
+“I was in New York, visiting my aunt on Seventy-third Street. I was in
+the house all the evening, except for about half an hour, when I went
+out on an errand.”
+
+“Well, you couldn’t have crossed the river to Brooklyn, run a mile race
+and returned home in half an hour,” said the professor, lightly. “Now,
+will you get your aunt to write me a letter, stating those facts and
+assuring me that you were not and could not have been in Brooklyn? It
+is not, you understand, that I doubt your word, Ware, but I have my
+duties in these affairs and I must perform them. Simply a letter, you
+understand, will suffice.”
+
+“I will do my best,” Allan replied; “but----”
+
+“Eh?” shouted Stearns.
+
+“But my aunt has left New York city and is traveling in the West,
+probably in California now. I shall have to find her address from my
+mother first, and by that time----”
+
+“Now, look here, sir,” interrupted Stearns. “Surely Ware’s word of
+honor is enough in a case of this sort? It’s only a--a coincidence of
+names, sir.”
+
+“For my own satisfaction Mr. Ware’s word is sufficient,” replied the
+chairman, with dignity, “but the rules require evidence, and I must
+have it. I only ask Mr. Ware to supply me with a statement from some
+person who knows of his whereabouts on the evening in question.
+Perhaps there is some other person who will do as well?” But Allan
+shook his head.
+
+“No, sir, I’m afraid not. My aunt lives alone except for the servants,
+and I saw no one I knew that evening. I will telegraph to my mother at
+once, and perhaps I will be able to get a letter from my aunt before
+Saturday. But it’s a pretty short time.”
+
+“Produce your evidence any time before the two-mile race is called,”
+said the chairman, kindly, “and it will be all right. And, by the way,
+a telegram will answer as well as a letter, if your--er--aunt is in the
+West. I am anxious to help you in every way possible, and I regret that
+the duties of my office require me to be or--er--seem exacting. Another
+thing, Ware; the Athletic Association will incur all the expenses of
+telegraphing in this affair; and you need not--ah--spare money. Good
+morning.”
+
+“Oh, it will be all right,” said Stearns, cheerfully, as they hurried
+together to the telegraph office. But Allan shook his head despondently.
+
+“No, I’ve felt ever since yesterday that something would happen to ball
+things up. And now it’s happened. And I don’t believe I’ll hear from my
+aunt in time. However, I wouldn’t have got better than second place,
+anyway. But I did want to run,” he ended, dolorously.
+
+“Nonsense! Cheer up! We’ll make the wires hum. We’ve got pretty near
+two whole days, and we can telegraph around the world fifty times in
+two days.”
+
+The telegram asking for his aunt’s address was duly despatched to his
+mother in New Haven, and after that there was nothing left to do save
+wait her reply. Allan parted from Stearns and went dejectedly back to
+his room. There he found Pete engaged in a carouse with Two Spot. They
+wouldn’t let Pete practise with the shot to-day, or again before the
+meet, and he was feeling quite lost in consequence. Allan wanted some
+one to unfold his tale of woe to, and he was glad to find Pete awaiting
+him. Pete, as the story was told, grew very indignant, and offered to
+punch Professor Nast’s head. But Allan finally convinced him that the
+chairman of the Athletic Committee wasn’t at all to blame.
+
+“It’s a beastly way to have things end, after you’ve been practising
+hard all spring,” he said, as he arose impatiently from his chair and
+strolled to the desk. A Latin book was lying on the blotter, with
+a slip of paper marking the page where Allan had been at work when
+Stearns appeared. Now he opened the book, crumpled the marker into a
+ball and tossed it disgustedly onto the floor. Then he drew up a chair
+and plainly hinted that he desired to study. Pete, however, refused to
+heed the hint.
+
+“It’s a mighty foolish business,” he said, thoughtfully.
+
+Allan grunted.
+
+Two Spot had discovered the little ball of paper and was making believe
+that it was a mouse. She rolled it from under the couch with playful
+pawings and frantic rushes, and finally tossing it in the air, so that
+it fell at Pete’s feet, she stopped, blinked at it and suddenly fell
+to washing her feet, as though too dignified to do aught else. Pete
+stooped absent-mindedly and picked up the bit of paper, unfolding it
+slowly and smoothing it across one huge knee.
+
+“Seems to me,” he said presently, “you chaps have forgotten one thing.”
+
+“What’s that?” Allan asked, ungraciously.
+
+“To wire the St. Thomas Club people and ask them if you ran in their
+old meeting.”
+
+“Well, that’s so,” said Allan, hopefully. “But, then, there was
+probably some one there named ‘A. Ware,’ and they’d just answer ‘yes.’”
+
+“Ask ’em if Allan Ware, of Erskine, ran in the meeting, and, if he
+didn’t, who the dickens the ‘A. Ware’ was who did run. Tell you’ve got
+to know in a hurry, and that it’s blamed important.”
+
+“By Jove!” exclaimed Allan, “that’s a good idea. Funny we didn’t think
+of it, wasn’t it?”
+
+For answer Pete grunted, as though he didn’t think it at all funny.
+
+“Hello, who’s ‘Horace L. Pearson, N. Y. A. C.’?” asked Pete, holding up
+the scrap of paper rescued from Two Spot, and which now proved to be
+torn from the program of the Boston indoor meeting.
+
+“I don’t know; why?” asked Allan.
+
+“I used to know a fellow of that name out in Colorado. He was sort of
+studying mining. What does ‘N. Y. A. C.’ mean?”
+
+“New York Athletic Club. It’s probably the same fellow. I remember him
+now. He was the chap that thought Rindgely was me.”
+
+“Eh?” asked Pete. “How was that?”
+
+So Allan told him, and Pete grew very thoughtful as the short narrative
+progressed. When Allan had finished he asked:
+
+“I suppose these fellows that do stunts at the Boston meet go to pretty
+near all of them, don’t they?”
+
+“Oh, I don’t know; a good many, I guess. Why?”
+
+“Just wondering,” answered Pete. “Come on and send that telegram. If
+you address it to the president or treasurer or something, it will do,
+won’t it?”
+
+“I’ll send it to the chairman of the Athletic Committee,” said Allan,
+seizing his hat. “I’m glad you thought of it, Pete. You’re some good in
+the world, after all, aren’t you?”
+
+“Sure. See you this evening. I want to see Tommy. Where do you suppose
+I’ll find him?”
+
+“Oh, come on down to the telegraph office.”
+
+“Can’t; I want Tommy.”
+
+“Well, try the Purple office; maybe he’s there. Don’t forget to come
+around to-night. I may get an answer from my mother by that time.”
+
+Pete was successful. To be sure, Tommy wasn’t in the office of the
+Purple, but Pete hadn’t supposed he would be; Tommy wasn’t so easily
+caught. But by tracing him from one place to another, Pete at last came
+up with him in the library, where he was eagerly securing data for an
+article on rowing which he was preparing for a Boston Sunday paper.
+
+“You see,” he explained, hurriedly, “I don’t know very much about
+rowing, but it wouldn’t do to say so, and so I come here and consult
+these gentlemen.” He indicated the half-dozen volumes by which he was
+surrounded. “If I only wrote what I knew, you see, I’d never make any
+money.”
+
+“Well, that’s the first time I ever heard you acknowledge you didn’t
+know it all, from throwing to tying,” said Pete.
+
+“Oh, a fellow has to keep up a front,” said Tommy, shrewdly, with a
+grin.
+
+Pete slipped into the next chair, and for the next quarter of an hour
+they whispered fast and furiously. When Pete got up, he said:
+
+“This isn’t for publication in your old paper, Tommy, you know. And
+don’t say anything about it to any one, will you?”
+
+And Tommy pledged himself to secrecy, adding:
+
+“And I think you’ve got it, Pete. Are you going to see him to-night?”
+
+“As soon as I can find him in his room,” Pete replied.
+
+“Then I’ll come around to Allan’s to-night and hear what’s happened.”
+
+“Maybe I won’t tell Allan,” answered Pete. “Anyhow, not unless I have
+to. I’ll see what the coyote has to say for himself.”
+
+“Rindgely? Oh, he’ll have plenty to say, all right. He’ll talk himself
+blue in the face if you let him.”
+
+“Maybe I won’t let him,” answered Pete, grimly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+THE FRESHMAN GAME
+
+
+    “Your aunt was in Los Angeles California Monday expected stay
+    week address Mission House. Is anything wrong?      MOTHER.”
+
+This message Allan found awaiting him when he hurried home from dinner
+that evening. So far so good, he reflected. But Monday was three
+days gone, and if his aunt had changed her mind and gone on!--well,
+he didn’t like to consider that contingency. Seating himself at his
+desk, he composed two messages, one to his aunt and one to the manager
+of the Mission House. In the latter he requested that his message to
+Miss Mary G. Merrill be forwarded to her, in case she had left the
+hotel. In the other message he finally expressed, at the expense of
+thirty-four words, what he wanted his aunt to do. Then he hurried again
+to the telegraph office and begged the emotionless operator to get both
+messages off at once. The operator nodded silently.
+
+“You haven’t received any other message for me, have you?” asked
+Allan. The operator as silently shook his head. Allan wandered back
+to his room. Studying was a task this evening, and he was glad when
+Tommy demanded admittance. A few minutes later Pete, too, arrived,
+looking very satisfied with life. Allan did not notice the exchange of
+glances between the last comer and Tommy, and if he had he would not
+have understood them, nor would he have connected them with the matter
+uppermost in his thoughts. Tommy raised his eyebrows inquiringly and
+Pete nodded with a smile and mysteriously tapped the breast of his coat.
+
+Allan was full of his quandary and found much relief in telling
+everything to Tommy and exhibiting the telegrams received and
+copies of those sent. Pete, strange to say, and somewhat to Allan’s
+disappointment, did not display the amount of interest in the subject
+which Allan thought he should have; and even Tommy seemed soon to tire
+of the matter. Allan fell into silence, reflecting pessimistically on
+the readiness of your friends to abandon your troubles. Pete and Tommy
+left early--Tommy had been on the point of leaving ever since his
+arrival--and with their parting injunctions to “cheer up” and “don’t
+let it bother you” in his ears, Allan went sorrowfully to bed.
+
+The next day was Friday, and it dawned cloudy and chill. May has its
+moods, even in Centerport, but it was unfortunate that it should have
+displayed the fact to-day, for the gloominess of the weather increased
+Allan’s despondency until Two Spot, blinking inquiringly from the
+Morris chair, saw that the world was awry and decided to go to sleep
+until things were righted again. And the answer to his St. Thomas Club
+message, which came just before noon, did not tend to lighten Allan’s
+spirits.
+
+“Ware of Erskine,” it ran, “won third in mile run December
+twenty-sixth.”
+
+Allan, as he tossed the sheet of buff paper angrily aside, wondered
+whether, after all, he had not taken part in the meeting while
+temporarily unbalanced; he had heard of such things, he thought. Or
+perhaps he had fallen asleep and--but no, his imagination couldn’t
+conceive of any one running a mile race and negotiating inclined
+corners without waking up! It was a strange and maddening mystery,
+and the more he puzzled over it the stranger it seemed and the more
+exasperated he became.
+
+Stearns called after lunch and listened to an account of the
+developments with perfunctory interest. He had given up hope of having
+Allan enter the meet, and had decided that it didn’t much matter. For
+it was evident that Allan was worried and nervous, and the chances
+that he would give a good account of himself, if he ran, were slim.
+Stearns was sympathetic, but Allan could see that he, like Pete and
+Tommy, wasn’t inclined to let the matter trouble him overmuch.
+
+After the track captain had left, Allan fell into still deeper
+despondency and mooned about his room--which was the last thing he
+should have done--until four o’clock, when a half-hour of jogging on
+the track took him out. No reply from Aunt Mary had reached him by
+dinner time, and although he stayed awake until eleven, in violation of
+training orders, listening eagerly for the opening of the gate which
+should announce the advent of the messenger, he was at last forced to
+go to sleep without the message. You may be certain his sleep did him
+little good. He dreamed all night, or so it seemed, and morning found
+him tired and haggard. His first look was toward the door-sill, but no
+buff envelope rewarded it.
+
+“That settles it,” he muttered, bitterly; “I’m not going to hope any
+longer.”
+
+Having reached this decision, he threw back his shoulders and walked
+to breakfast whistling a tune. To be sure, the tune wasn’t always
+tuneful, and sometimes it died out entirely, but it was a brave
+effort. Breakfast at the training table was an uncomfortable meal for
+him. The others were in the best of spirits, and there was present a
+half-suppressed excitement that showed itself on the countenances and
+in the bearing of the fellows.
+
+None there save Stearns and Pete knew of Allan’s trouble, and they
+gave no sign. Pete even seemed to Allan to be indecently happy, and
+his attempts at conversation met with scant encouragement. Half-way
+through the meal Rindgely’s absence was discovered, and Kernahan was
+despatched to hunt him up. He had not returned when Allan left the
+house. Every one was cautioned to spend the forenoon out-of-doors and
+report promptly at eleven-thirty for lunch.
+
+The town soon took on a gala appearance. The sidewalks were thronged by
+ten o’clock, and none seemed to have anything to do save discuss the
+outcome of the afternoon’s performances. Erskine banners hung from the
+shop windows and fluttered over front doors. Pete wanted Allan to go
+out to the field with him and see the Erskine-Robinson freshman game,
+but Allan had no heart for it, and refused to leave his room. He had no
+recitations, for the professors had very generally given cuts. He wrote
+a letter to his mother--a very dismal production it was, too--and then
+sat at the window with Two Spot in his lap and watched the crowds pass
+on their way to the game.
+
+The college band, followed by a mob of singing, cheering freshmen,
+went by in a cloud of dust, and presently a barge containing the home
+nine passed, and Allan had a glimpse of Hal’s gray-clad shoulders.
+The Robinson youngsters had already gone out. The steady stream of
+townfolk and students became broken; groups of three and four passed at
+intervals; now and then a couple of students, laughing and chatting,
+or a solitary mortal hurried by the house. Then, quite suddenly, as it
+seemed, all traffic ceased, and Poplar Street resumed its wonted quiet.
+
+Half an hour later Allan’s eyes, roaming from the magazine which he was
+striving to read, sighted a faded blue coat across the little park, and
+his heart leaped into his throat. A messenger boy, whistling a blithe
+tune, toiled slowly along, as though his shoulders bore the weight of
+a great sorrow. Once, when almost at the corner, he stopped, leaned
+against the fence and seemed on the point of going to sleep. Then he
+roused himself and came on. Allan restrained an impulse to dart out
+into the road and waited on the porch, with his heart beating like a
+trip-hammer. The boy reached the corner, glanced with mild interest at
+Allan--and went on up Main Street.
+
+After the first moment of blank and sickening dismay, Allan went to
+the end of the porch and looked after him. Perhaps, after all, he was
+mistaken, and would discover the fact and turn back. But eventually the
+lad sauntered across the street and disappeared around the corner of
+McLean. Allan went back to his chair, his heart like lead and a lump in
+his throat that wouldn’t be swallowed.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Out at Erskine Field great things were happening. The purple-lettered
+youngsters were more than holding their own against the far-heralded
+team of Robinson. It was the sixth inning, and the score stood 9 to
+5 in Erskine’s favor. Hal had played a magnificent game at second
+and already had a double-play to his credit, and had, besides,
+succeeded beyond all of his team-mates at hitting the redoubtable
+brown-stockinged pitcher. Side by side on the warm turf back of
+third-base, Tommy and Pete were sitting cross-legged, having passed the
+ropes by virtue of Tommy’s ever-present note-book, with its staring
+inscription, “Erskine Purple,” on the cover. The last man of the
+Erskine side went out, the teams changed places, the seventh inning
+began with Robinson’s tail-enders coming to the plate, and Pete resumed
+his narrative, which had been interrupted by Hal’s hard drive to
+left-field.
+
+“He didn’t have any idea what I had come for,” Pete said, “and was
+going to be very nice and polite; he can be when he likes, you know.
+But I wasn’t there to pass compliments or swap stories, so I got right
+down out of the saddle and talked business. ‘Rindgely, I know that you
+ran in the St. Thomas Club meet in Brooklyn the night after Christmas,
+under the name of A. Ware, and won fifteen dollars,’ I said, ‘and
+you’ve got to come out in the open and say so.’ Of course, it was a
+rank bluff; I was pretty certain about it after I’d talked with you,
+but I didn’t know absolutely, and couldn’t prove anything. If he had
+kept his nerve and told me to go to thunder, it would have been all off
+on the spot, and I’d had to crawl off with my tail between my legs.
+But it took him so sudden that he just gasped and got pale around the
+gills. Then I knew I had him roped. So I just waded in and gave it
+to him hot and heavy. Told him he was a horse-thief and an all-round
+galoot; that he ought to be ashamed of himself, and a lot more. When I
+got through he was a pretty sick steer. I had him hog-tied and branded.
+Then he began to play fair.--Ginger! look at that hit! Good work!
+That’s two out, ain’t it? Only one? Well, it ought to be two.”
+
+“And then what?” asked Tommy, making strange marks in the score-book on
+his knee.
+
+“Well, I got kind of sorry for the poor old jack-rabbit. He told me
+all about it, and swore up and down he hadn’t meant any harm; that
+he wanted to try what he could do against some good men at the mile,
+and hadn’t cared a hang about the money. ‘But what did you use Ware’s
+name for?’ says I. ‘Wasn’t your own bad enough?’ ‘Because,’ says he,
+‘I didn’t want my folks to know about it; they live there in Brooklyn,
+and might have seen my name in the paper next day. I didn’t think about
+making myself ineligible,’ says he, ‘and I didn’t think I was doing
+Ware any harm.’ Well, that may be a lie, but he was sure in the dumps,
+and so I agreed to make things easy for him. ‘You write it all out
+in black and white and sign your name to it,’ says I, ‘and if I can
+I’ll keep dark about it. If Allan gets a message from his aunt, all
+right; if he doesn’t, I show your document to Nast. I’ll wait till the
+two-mile is called.’ Bully for you, Hal! That’s three, ain’t it? Sure!
+Hit it out, Seven!”
+
+“You see,” he went on, after the nines had changed places and the
+Erskine captain had seized his bat, “you see, I didn’t want to be any
+harder on Rindgely than I had to. He said if the faculty got hold of
+it they’d be sure to either bounce him bodily or hold up his diploma.
+Well, I guess they would, all right, eh?”
+
+“Sure to,” answered Tommy, promptly, as he marked the first man out at
+first, scored an assist to the credit of the opposing pitcher and a
+put-out to that of the Brown’s first-baseman.
+
+“So that’s the way we fixed it up. And I hope Allan gets word from
+auntie, for I’m blessed if I want Rindgely to get kicked out without
+graduating. It would be hard luck for a chap to do four years at hard
+labor here and then slip up just when he was going to grab the prize,
+wouldn’t it?”
+
+“Hardest kind of luck,” said Tommy. “Hope you don’t have to show the
+confession.”
+
+Erskine went out in one, two, three order and the eighth inning
+commenced. The band was doing gallant work and Pete found conversation
+beyond his powers until the last strains of a lively two-step had
+died away. By that time the Brown’s second man had been retired, and
+Robinson’s hopes were dwindling fast.
+
+“Is he going to run this afternoon?” asked Tommy.
+
+Pete shook his head.
+
+“No; you see, I couldn’t let him do that; it would be against the law;
+if Allan couldn’t run he couldn’t, and that’s certain.”
+
+“No, he hasn’t any right to,” said Tommy, thoughtfully. “He’s plainly
+ineligible because he ran for money; and then, there would be other
+reasons.”
+
+“Well, that’s the way I figured it out,” said Pete, with a note of
+relief in his voice. He was glad to have his decision supported by
+some one who knew more about such things. “But he saw himself that it
+was all up with him as a runner. He said he’d be sick to-day, and,
+as he wasn’t at breakfast, I guess he is. I’ll bet Dr. Prentiss will
+have a hard time finding out what’s wrong with him.” And Pete chuckled
+wickedly.
+
+“All out,” said Tommy. “Say, Hal! Oh, _Hal_! Give us a home run, Hal!
+Get out! Of course you can. We want some more runs.”
+
+“I guess we don’t stand much show of winning this afternoon,” went
+on Pete. “With Rindgely out of it and Allan all balled up, I can see
+Robinson getting a few points.”
+
+“They’ll win first in the mile, all right,” answered Tommy. “Hooker’s
+not in the same class with Rindgely this spring, and Harris isn’t a bit
+better; though maybe he’ll manage to get placed. As for Allan, he never
+has had any too good a chance at the two miles, and now, after all this
+rumpus, it’s a fair bet he’ll be out of it entirely. It’s a mean shame
+the way things have gone, and when you think that it’s all Rindgely’s
+fault, expulsion doesn’t seem a bit too bad for him.”
+
+“Maybe,” said Pete, doubtfully, “but I don’t want to be the feller to
+get him bounced; that’s all. If Allan’s confounded old relative doesn’t
+come to time I’ll--well, I guess I’ll give Rindgely’s statement to you
+and let you attend to things.”
+
+“You’ve got another guess, Pete,” said Tommy. “_I_ don’t want anything
+to do with it. Besides, you worked the racket and ought to see it out.”
+
+Pete sighed dolefully.
+
+“I suppose I’ll have to,” he murmured.
+
+Again the inning closed without a tally, and Robinson came in for her
+last turn at bat. Her players looked very determined, and it seemed
+not impossible that they would go in and make up the four runs that
+threatened to defeat them. And the band played again. Pete and Tommy
+were driven from their places by the crowd, which had left the stands
+and were invading the field, and they allowed themselves to be pushed
+forward to the foul-line.
+
+“I suppose Allan thinks I’m a brute,” said Pete, dismally. “I didn’t go
+near him last night. But I just couldn’t stand seeing him so miserable,
+and not blurting out everything I knew. So I fought shy. I just hope it
+ends all right.”
+
+Whether that ended all right another chapter will have to tell, but
+there was no doubt about the game ending that way. Robinson went down
+before superb pitching, and with the score still 9 to 5, the spectators
+flooded over the field and their cheers drowned even the band.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+“ON YOUR MARK!”
+
+
+Once more the crowds were moving out to Erskine Field. It was after one
+o’clock, and experienced persons knew that there were no reserved seats
+and that “first come first served” was the rule. The midday sun shone
+warmly and only enthusiasts looked forward with pleasure to sitting on
+the unshaded stands for the next three hours. Robinson’s athletes went
+out William Street in two barges, their paraphernalia following them in
+a tumble-down express wagon drawn by a limping sorrel nag, whose bridle
+was draped with brown and white.
+
+The contents of the barges were viewed with polite interest, but the
+wagon awakened amusement on the part of sober citizens and ribald mirth
+on the part of undignified undergraduates. Nearing the field, the eyes
+caught sight above the tree-tops of the great purple banner, with its
+snowy E, which fluttered lazily at the top of the tall staff. At half
+after one the stands were thickly sprinkled with spectators, and the
+flutter of programs--used in lieu of fans--was visible across the
+field; with a little imagination one could have likened the ladies, in
+their bright and many-colored gowns and hats, to flowers, and thought
+the fluttering programs lighter petals stirred in a breeze.
+
+On the track, runners and sprinters were jogging to and fro and on the
+edge of the field the officials were gathering, their purple and gold
+badges glowing bravely in the sunlight. Two big tents had been erected
+at the end of the oval nearest the gates, and about them white-garbed
+contestants lay or sat on outspread dressing-gowns, while rubbers and
+trainers came and went among them like anxious hens among their broods.
+
+In front of the Erskine dressing-tent sat Allan. He had been up and
+down the straightaway three times and was still breathing heavily as
+a result. He had no hope now of being allowed to enter his event, and
+even if he were, he reflected, he would stand small show of winning,
+since it was evident that he was in poor shape. Physically he seemed
+fit enough, but he was aware all the time of a feeling of nervousness
+and depression that was ill-calculated to help him in a grueling two
+miles.
+
+Word had been left at the telegraph office that if a message came for
+him it was to be rushed out to the field as fast as possible, and to
+this end a horse and buggy from Pike’s stable was already standing
+in front of the door. Stearns was taking no chances, for now that
+Rindgely had been declared too ill to enter the contest, another five
+points were almost certain to go to Robinson, and if it was possible
+for Allan to enter the two miles and make a fight for a place, he must
+do it. Stearns was worried and down-hearted.
+
+Even the most optimistic calculators could not figure a victory for
+Erskine with first places in both the long-distance events conceded to
+her rival. As a last resort, Stearns had secured the postponement of
+the two miles to the tag end of the afternoon. He had thrown himself on
+the generosity of the Robinson captain and explained the predicament.
+
+And the Robinson captain, who was Brooks, their crack hurdler, had
+consented, a piece of sportsmanship which met with the condemnation of
+his trainer and many of the team. But the expedient promised to work
+little good, for it was plain that if Allan’s telegram to his aunt
+had reached her she would have replied not later than yesterday. But
+Stearns was in desperate straits and no chance was too slight for him
+to seize upon.
+
+At a few minutes after two o’clock the pistol was heard from the far
+end of the straightaway, and Erskine took the first honors of the meet,
+Stearns securing first place and Leroy second in the 100 yards dash,
+and earning 8 points for the Purple.
+
+To chronicle the afternoon’s proceedings in detail would be a tiresome
+as well as an unnecessary task. In the 120 yards hurdles, which
+followed the first dash, and in the 220 yards hurdles, which came later
+on the program, Robinson had things pretty much her own way, Brooks,
+her captain, taking first place handily in each. Robinson won 12 points
+in these events, and Erskine 6. Stearns again showed his mettle in
+the 220 dash, and Robinson got second and third; 5 points for Erskine
+and 4 points for her adversary. In the quarter-mile the best the home
+team could do was to secure third place, and that by the narrowest
+margin, though the time, 50⅖ seconds, was absurdly slow. When the mile
+was called, the 220 yards hurdles had not been run and the score on
+Professor Nast’s sheet stood: Erskine, 18; Robinson, 18. So far things
+were happening in a way that brought joy to the professor’s heart, but
+the field events were still undecided and the long distances were yet
+to run.
+
+The mile event worked the audience up to the highest stage of
+excitement, and for a long while, in fact until the three-quarters had
+been passed, the race was most anybody’s. But after that Coolbroth of
+Robinson sprang into the lead, closely pursued by Harris of Erskine,
+and Patterson of Robinson. The finish was made in that order, Harris
+and Patterson fighting for second honors all the way around the last
+lap, and Harris finally winning his 3 points by a bare two yards. The
+hammer throw was decided about this time, and Robinson was credited
+with first and third, Monroe winning second for Erskine. The score
+now was not so satisfactory to the supporters of the Purple, since it
+stood: Erskine, 24; Robinson, 30.
+
+The Purple exceeded expectations in the broad jump, allowing her rival
+but 1 point. In the high jump, however, she didn’t show up so well;
+Robinson took first and third places. After the 220 yards hurdles,
+which, as has been already told, were won by Brooks, Erskine securing
+but 1 point, the score was heavily in the Brown’s favor, 45 to 36. By
+this time the afternoon had worn well toward sunset. Only the shot-put,
+the 880 yards run, the pole-vault and the two miles remained. Of these,
+Robinson was conceded 8 points in the pole-vault, 5 in the shot-put
+and 1 in the 880. It was difficult to see how Erskine could pull out
+of the meet ahead. In fact, it was evident that she couldn’t. Even
+Tommy, normally optimistic, had lost hope. While the competitors in the
+hurdles were trotting off to the tents he hurried across to where the
+shot-putters were at work. As he approached, six of the nine candidates
+were donning their dressing-gowns, and he knew that the trials were
+over and that the six were out of it. Then he pursed his lips and
+whistled softly. Of the three competitors remaining for the finals, two
+were Erskine men, Monroe and--yes, the other was Pete! The Robinson
+candidate was Tiernan, who had won first in the hammer throw. Pete
+hailed Tommy and drew him aside.
+
+“Have you got that paper safe?” he asked.
+
+“Yes.” Tommy reassured him by allowing a corner of it to peep forth
+from his inside pocket. Pete nodded and glanced toward the tent.
+
+“For goodness’ sake, don’t lose it,” he said. “And keep a watch for the
+two miles. We’re not through here yet and I don’t want the scheme to
+slip up.”
+
+“All right. And say, Pete!”
+
+“Yep?”
+
+“Do your best, old man, won’t you?” begged Tommy. “They’re ’way ahead
+of us, but if we get first and third out of this we may have a fighting
+chance.”
+
+“Well, we’ll see,” said Pete, untroubled. “I’ve got Monroe dead to
+rights, anyway.”
+
+“Yes, but beat Tiernan, Pete; we’ve _got_ to win!”
+
+“Well, just as you say, Tommy,” answered Pete, smiling at the other’s
+look of tragedy. “For your sake, Tommy, I’ll do my best.”
+
+“Burley!” called the field judge, and Pete drew his sweater off and
+stepped into the ring. There were three competitors remaining, and each
+was allowed three tries, the best of which was to count. Pete picked up
+the shot, took up his position at the rear of the circle, placed the
+weight in his broad right hand, threw his left arm out to balance him,
+raised his left foot from the ground, and then, with a motion that was
+neither hop nor glide, reached the front of the circle, brought his
+right shoulder smartly round and sent the weight flying. The measurer
+started to lay the end of the tape where the shot had struck, but
+stopped at judge’s announcement.
+
+“Foul,” said the latter. “You overstepped, Burley.”
+
+Pete nodded carelessly and donned his sweater again. Kernahan, who had
+approached during the try, beckoned to him, and they stepped aside.
+
+“That won’t do, Pete,” said Billy. “Keep that elbow in to the body; you
+had it spread way out that time. And mind the stop. Take all the time
+you want, you know; there’s no hurry.”
+
+Pete grinned.
+
+“_That’s_ all right,” he said. “Don’t worry about me, Billy. I’ll get
+it away all right next time.”
+
+Monroe followed with a put of 43 feet 6 inches, and Tiernan bettered
+this by half a foot. Again Pete peeled his sweater off and took up the
+shot. As he stood there, balancing himself, he looked, with a careless,
+good-natured smile on his face, like a giant who, for his amusement,
+had entered the sports of pigmies. He was taller than Tiernan and
+bigger everywhere than Monroe; the judge came barely to his shoulder.
+The muscles of his arms were like great ropes under the clear skin.
+Once more he crossed the ring, and once more the leaden ball was hurled
+forward. From the stands came a chorus of applause. Tommy’s face
+lighted, and even Billy gave an appreciative nod. The Robinson trainer,
+standing across the circle, shot a quick glance at Pete as he stepped
+out and took his sweater from the turf.
+
+“Forty-four feet seven inches,” announced the judge, as he held the
+tape to the edge of the stop-board. Tommy clapped Pete on the shoulder
+and whispered his delight. Pete smiled good-humoredly.
+
+“All out for the 880!” cried a voice across the oval. “Hurry up,
+half-milers!”
+
+Monroe made his second try, and the tape said 44 feet 1 inch. He turned
+away in disgust. Pete smiled. Robinson’s champion took plenty of time
+at his next try, and made a splendid put. He had exceeded Pete’s best
+attempt and there was a breathless silence around the ring as the tape
+was adjusted. Then,
+
+“Forty-five feet two inches,” said the judge.
+
+The Robinson trainer, who had looked anxious a moment since, smiled
+demurely. Over on the starting line the half-milers were being placed.
+Along the length of the stands the spectators were leaving their seats
+here and there. Pete stepped into the seven-foot circle for his last
+try. Tommy, a few feet away, watched him eagerly. With the shot in
+his right hand, Pete looked across and dropped his left eyelid in a
+portentous wink.
+
+Tommy’s heart sank. If Pete would only stop his fooling for a minute,
+he thought, and really put his heart into it! And while the thought
+came to him, Pete was hopping across the ring and poising himself for
+an instant at the front edge. Then his body swung around, his right
+arm shot out like a steel spring, and the shot went arching over the
+ground. Tommy’s heart leaped into his throat and then thumped wildly.
+From the stands whose occupants were near enough to be able to follow
+the shot-putting came a great roar of applause. Tommy, with his eyes
+fixed intently on the tape, felt a hand seize his arm and pull him
+around.
+
+“Come along,” said Pete, “and find Nast.”
+
+“Wait! Wait till we find out----”
+
+“Find out nothing,” said Pete. “Monroe can’t touch that put!”
+
+But even as Tommy hung back the judge looked up from the tape with a
+smile on his face.
+
+“Forty-five feet eleven inches!” he said.
+
+“_Oh, bully!_” cried Tommy. “But Tiernan----”
+
+“Huh!” said Pete.
+
+From across the field came the sharp report of the pistol sending
+the half-milers away, and as Pete and Tommy hurried to the tents the
+white-clad runners swept by in a bunch on the first of their two laps,
+Poor and Tolmann side by side in the lead, and Thatcher, Erskine’s main
+hope, running warily well toward the rear. Around the turns they went
+and entered the back-stretch, hundreds of voices urging them on.
+
+Allan, a depressed-looking figure in his dragging drab gown, met them
+as they crossed the track. There was no use asking him whether he had
+received the longed-for message; one glance at his face was sufficient.
+Pete took him aside out of the throng.
+
+“You’re going to run, Allan,” he said, in low tones, “so get warmed up.
+Now, don’t ask any questions, for I can’t answer ’em yet. Just do as I
+tell you. It’s all right; you’re going to run, and if you don’t win out
+I’ll--I’ll lick you!”
+
+The expression of hope which had at first leaped into Allan’s face died
+out again, but a look of curiosity remained.
+
+“What--what do you mean?” he asked, wonderingly.
+
+“Just what I say. You’re going to run, and if you want to do anything
+in the race get your muscles stretched. Let go of me; I’m in a hurry.
+Have you seen Nast?”
+
+“I’ve found him,” said Tommy, hurrying up. “He’s gone over to the
+finish. Here come the half-milers. Track, there!”
+
+Once more the runners sped past, but now they were no longer bunched
+together. In front, leading by half a dozen yards, ran Poor. Next came
+Thatcher, then a Robinson man, then Tolmann. Behind Tolmann the rest of
+the field pegged away, already out of the reckoning, barring accidents.
+
+“All out for the two miles!” bawled the clerk.
+
+Pete shot a glance at Tommy and the latter nodded. Together they turned
+away.
+
+“Get a move on, Allan,” cried Pete. “Don’t stand there like a wooden
+Indian!” Allan, his face expressing wonder and returning hope, slipped
+quickly out of his dressing-gown.
+
+“I guess you’re joking, Pete,” he said, “but----”
+
+“Is Mr. Ware here?” piped a shrill voice, and the blue-coated messenger
+boy pushed his way through the throng about the tents. “Telegram for
+Mr. Ware!”
+
+With a cry Allan turned and seized the envelope from the boy’s hands
+and tore it open. Under the gaze of dozens of curious eyes, he read the
+words on the still damp sheet of yellow paper and turned with exultant
+eyes to Pete and Tommy, who had paused at the edge of the track.
+
+“It’s all right!” he cried. “Where’s Nast?” And he sped off around the
+track. Tommy and Pete followed, and the latter, as he went, took a
+folded sheet of foolscap from his pocket and tore it into tiny pieces.
+
+“Hurry up for the two miles!” bawled the clerk again.
+
+When Allan reached the finish he was unable for a moment to reach
+Professor Nast, for the half-milers were tearing down the home-stretch
+and the crowd was thick about the tape. Shouts of triumph, roars of
+applause, arose. Down the cinders, their straining forms throwing long
+wavering shadows before them, came Thatcher, Tolmann, and a Robinson
+runner, the first two almost side by side, the third man four or five
+yards behind. Then, in an instant more, the red string fluttered away
+and Thatcher raced over the line, a winner by a bare yard over his
+team-mate.
+
+“Eight more points!” cried Tommy, gleefully. “Who knows how the
+shot-put came out?”
+
+“We got first and third,” answered Hal, turning. “Hello, Tommy, is
+that you?” But Tommy was too busy casting up figures on his score to do
+more than nod.
+
+“Was Pete first?” he asked in a moment.
+
+“First! Gosh, he was first by almost a foot. Tiernan fouled on his last
+try, and----”
+
+“How about Monroe?” asked Pete, worming his way forward.
+
+“Hello, you old brick!” cried Hal, seizing his hand. “Why, Monroe did
+something like forty-four feet two, I think.”
+
+“_That’s_ all right,” said Pete.
+
+By this time Allan had found Professor Nast, and the latter was reading
+the message. It ran:
+
+    “Allan was at my house New York evening December twenty-sixth
+    except between eight and eight-thirty o’clock when he went
+    errand for me Thirty-ninth street. Could not have gone to
+    Brooklyn and did not if he says so.      MARY G. MERRILL.”
+
+The professor handed back the sheet of paper and put his hand on
+Allan’s shoulder.
+
+“Good,” he said, with satisfaction. “Go in and win, Ware.”
+
+He pushed him toward where the long-distance men were assembling at
+the start. Allan waited for no more, but darted down the track. As he
+reached the group, his name was called and he answered as he slipped
+into the second line of runners. The next instant Stearns was pulling
+him aside, his eyes wide with eagerness.
+
+“Is it all right?” he whispered. “Did you get word?”
+
+“Yes, a minute ago. I’ve seen Nast.”
+
+Stearns gave him a hug that left him almost breathless.
+
+“Thank goodness!” he said, softly. “The meet’s tied at 54 points. The
+whole thing depends on this, and we’ve got to have first place, Ware,
+we’ve _got_ to! Watch that man Burns over there; the tall chap with the
+tow hair; he’s dangerous. And-- Say, Billy,” turning to the trainer, who
+had slipped across the track to them, “Ware’s in it, after all. I was
+telling him to----”
+
+“Get the lead at the start, or as soon as you can, and just simply hold
+it, if you have to break a leg,” said Billy, quietly. “How are you
+feeling?”
+
+“I--I don’t know,” answered Allan. “But--I guess I’m all right.”
+
+“Good. See that light-haired Robinson man over there at the pole? Well,
+play for him, Ware. And don’t let him head you for a minute. All right
+now.”
+
+“All ready, there?” called the starter, as he dropped back and glanced
+at the pistol in his hand. There was an instant of silence. Then,
+
+“_On your mark!_” he cried.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+THE LAST EVENT
+
+
+Eleven men had entered for the two-mile run, six from Robinson and
+five from Erskine. Of these, we know Ware, Conroy, and Hooker, wearers
+of the purple ribbon, and have just heard of Burns, the Brown’s crack
+long-distance runner. In view of the result of the race, it may be well
+to mention also Tammen, another Robinson entry, who, until to-day,
+had been viewed as a second-rater. For the others, they were big and
+little, fair and dark, and all with their spurs still to win. Taken
+together, they were a clean-built, healthy lot as they stood at the
+starting line, their white running pants and white shirts--the latter
+crossed by the purple ribbon or the brown and white--just tinged with
+saffron by the long rays of the setting sun. The starter glanced again
+at his pistol.
+
+“_Set!_” he cried.
+
+And as the runners put their weights forward and poised arms front
+and back, the pistol spoke and the spiked shoes bit at the cinders
+as the men strove for the inside of the track. The timers looked
+up from their watches and the group about the line broke up. Ten
+minutes--possibly a little less, perhaps a little more--must elapse
+before the result could be known and Erskine or Robinson could claim
+the meet. For by a freak of fortune each college had now 54 points
+to its credit, and final victory would go to that one whose colors
+first brushed the string at the finish. Whether the spring’s labor and
+planning was to be crowned with victory or draped with defeat depended
+on who won first place and its 5 points.
+
+A knowledge of this accompanied Allan all through the race, now
+spurring him on to determined effort, now casting him into the depths
+of hopelessness and despair. The meet depended upon him, and he wished
+with all his heart that it didn’t. For from the first instant he
+knew that he was not in a condition to do his best. He was aware of
+high-strung nerves and a general feeling of worry. For the latter there
+was no longer any reason; but reason or no reason, it remained. The
+last two days and their accompanying nights of unrefreshing slumber had
+had their effect. For the rest, his muscles were strong and supple, his
+lungs eager for their task.
+
+Half-way around the first lap he had secured the lead, none disputing
+it with him, and had settled down into that apparently slow pace
+which makes the two-mile event look so unexciting at the first. He
+knew himself capable of making that pace for the entire distance and
+finishing comparatively fresh, but he also knew that Burns, who was
+coming serenely along half-way back down the length of the string,
+could stand it quite as well, and could probably sprint in the last
+quarter mile and beat him out. He decided then to increase the pace, in
+the hope of wearing the Robinson crack out, yet knowing that to make
+too fast a race would finish him up just as surely as it would Burns.
+
+When the home-stretch was reached in that first lap Allan set his legs
+to faster work, and as he crossed the line and completed the eighth of
+his distance, supporters of the Purple shook their heads. It wouldn’t
+do, they murmured; he would run himself out in the first mile and a
+half. Even Kernahan was a little worried, though nothing of the sort
+showed on his face. At the end of the second lap Allan had not abated
+his speed a jot.
+
+As he passed the groups around the finish and the tents, his eyes were
+set straight ahead, his long strides clung closely to the inner rim of
+the track and he was holding himself well erect. Into his cheeks the
+blood was creeping and dyeing them crimson, save for two disks that
+showed whiter and whiter as the contest wore on. Behind Allan ran an
+unknown Robinson man, then Hooker, then Tammen, then Burns. Conroy was
+dangerously far back, and, with others in his neighborhood, was showing
+that he didn’t approve of the pace.
+
+Of all distances, the two miles is the hardest to run. Speed as a
+factor in success is largely eliminated, and endurance is the supreme
+test. The race requires a large courage on the part of the runner,
+the courage to endure. It has been said, and truly, that it takes a
+fast man for the sprints and a brave man for the distances. At the
+completion of the fourth lap it is safe to say that five of the six
+runners were as completely and hopelessly beaten as though the race was
+finishing. Their legs dragged, their heads were falling back, and their
+lungs were aching. But it had been the fastest half of a two-mile race
+ever run on Erskine Field.
+
+Of those in the van of the long line of runners, which now stretched
+half-way around the oval, only three maintained their form at the
+beginning of the fifth lap; those were Allan, Burns, and Tammen.
+Save that the unknown Robinson man who had held second place at the
+beginning had dropped back to fifth position, the order was unchanged.
+Between Allan and his team-mate, Hooker, there was three yards of
+cinders; between Hooker and Tammen, five yards more. Back of Tammen,
+only a stride separating them, ran Burns, untroubled, and holding his
+own with great, long, easy strides.
+
+The turf was strangely green, for the low slanting beams of the sun
+bathed it in their golden glow. The stands were almost deserted, for
+the occupants were clustered all along the home-stretch, their eager
+gaze following the white-clad figures on the darkening track.
+
+If Allan’s form was still nearly what it had been at the beginning of
+the race, it must not be supposed that the mile had not told. Usually
+the two-miler finishes the half-distance in comparatively unwearied
+condition and faces his troubles from then on, but Allan had set a
+fast pace, and it had told on him, in spite of appearances. He felt
+as he usually did at the end of the mile and a half, and he wondered
+troubledly if he had not overdone it.
+
+At the turns, now and then, a backward glance revealed the confident
+face of Burns, while Hooker’s tortured breathing told its own tale.
+Either he must last out or Robinson would take second and third
+positions, as well as first. But he had grown fearful of his ability to
+do so, and on the sixth lap he eased up on his pace. And half-way down
+the back-stretch he wondered if he had not, after all, made a mistake
+in doing so. For Burns, refusing to slow down, had bested Tammen and
+Hooker and was apparently striving to pass Allan. But at the beginning
+of the next lap, the seventh, Allan saw that the supreme struggle was
+not yet, for Burns had slipped in behind him, apparently content to let
+him set the pace for a while longer.
+
+Then Hooker began to drop back. He had done his best, but his best was
+not good enough. Tammen passed him and ranged himself behind Burns, and
+these three, when the last lap began, were leading the field by sixty
+yards or more. As they swept by the finish the shouts of the spectators
+made a deafening roar in their ears. Allan had a dim vision of Pete
+leaping alongside the track at the first turn, near the tents, waving
+his long arms against the sunset glow and shouting unintelligible
+things.
+
+Once around that first turn, Allan shot a glance over his shoulder and
+his heart leaped. Unless he was very much mistaken, Burns had lost
+ground. That was Allan’s last turn of the head. From that time on it
+was merely a question of hugging the rim of the track and enduring the
+ache of limb and chest, doubting all the while his ability to hold his
+place and all the while determining to do it.
+
+He was right about Burns. That redoubtable runner had gone to pieces
+all in the minute. At the second turn he was plainly no longer
+dangerous to Allan, and back at the finish the throng roared its relief
+and delight. And while it was still shouting, Tammen shot around Burns
+and began to lessen the dozen or so yards between him and Allan. And
+Allan, hearing vaguely a new note in the voices across the field and
+the rapid pat of steps on the track behind him, guessed what was up and
+felt his heart sink. Here was a man who could sprint, something Allan
+had never been able to do satisfactorily, and here, in all probability,
+was the winner of the race! Those gazing obliquely across the oval saw
+Allan falter for a stride just at the farther turn, and their hearts
+sank.
+
+But after that first instant of what was something like terror, Allan
+pulled himself together. In his own words, it was up to him to win, and
+win he would, if only his breath would last that long. Tammen, three
+yards behind him, made no attempt to pass him at the turns, but kept
+himself in hand for the home-stretch. And Allan, grim and determined,
+weakening with every long gasp for breath, knew that when the track
+stretched straight before him to the distant white line the battle
+would really begin, and that in the length of that distance the meeting
+would be won or lost.
+
+And then he finished the turn and the rim ran straight beside him.
+And then the _pat_, _pat_ behind him crept nearer and nearer.
+Presently, when the stretch was half run, Allan was conscious, without
+looking--for he dared not take his eyes from the track ahead--of
+something grayish-white at his elbow.
+
+The time had come to do the impossible, to spur his weary limbs into
+renewed effort, to force his panting lungs to greater exertion, and
+to keep that grayish blur where it was. To have thrown himself--nay,
+to have simply let himself drop onto the grass beside the track and
+troubled no more about anything, would have been at that moment the
+greatest pleasure of a lifetime. But along the track voices were
+roaring and shrieking, and, although the words were sounds only, the
+meaning of them he knew. They wanted him to win, and the desire found a
+new echo in his heart. He wanted to win, and--why, yes, he _would_ win!
+
+And now the white line was in plain sight, although he didn’t see
+it, and the roar of voices was rising and growing. For a moment it
+seemed to him that he was motionless, and that the dark ranks on
+either side were moving slowly past him. And at the moment a glimpse
+of whitish-gray at his right dispelled the illusion, and with a sob
+for breath, he forced himself on. Once in that remaining twenty yards
+he staggered, and the watchers held their breaths for fear, but he
+recovered himself and plunged, reeling, on--and on--and on. Was there
+no end to it? he wondered, in agony. The haunting blur beside him was
+gone now, and----
+
+“Hold up! Easy, man, easy!” cried a voice that he seemed to know, and
+then dozens of arms were clutching him, and he let himself go. And as
+his eyes closed a whitish form passed before them and dropped from
+sight. Tammen, plucky to the last, was being lifted from the track,
+where, defeated and exhausted, he had fallen. And Allan, with closed
+eyes and tortured lungs, felt himself being carried to the tent, while
+in his ears was a roar of sound that told of victory and a race well
+run.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+“VALE”
+
+
+Allan and Pete sat on the steps of McLean Hall. The yard was a
+fairyland of glowing lanterns and moving colors. Near at hand, in a
+bough-screened stand, the band was playing. Above their heads the old
+elms of Erskine rustled their leaves and whispered among themselves,
+comparing, perhaps, this class-day with the many that had gone before.
+On the gravel paths matrons and maids, in light gowns, accompanied by
+robed seniors or dress-suited undergraduates, passed and repassed. The
+scene was as fair a one as ever Allan had witnessed, while even Pete
+was forced to grudging admiration.
+
+“You’ll come out in August, then,” Pete was saying.
+
+“Yes,” answered Allan, “and don’t you be afraid I won’t turn up, for
+this is the biggest excursion I ever took. So far I’ve never been
+farther away from home than this, and Colorado seems like the other
+side of the world.”
+
+Pete smiled in the half-light.
+
+“Hope you’ll like us, Allan. We may seem rather a rough and unpolished
+lot at first, but we’re not so bad when you cotton to our way of life.”
+
+“Of course I’ll like you,” said Allan, vehemently. “If it wasn’t for
+you and your father, Pete, where’d we be now?”
+
+“Where you are, I guess,” laughed Pete. “Let me tell you something,
+Allan. When you get out to Blackwater, don’t you go to speaking pieces
+at the old man, and thanking him; that’s a line of talk he can’t stand.”
+
+“But I’ve got to thank him,” objected Allan.
+
+“No you haven’t; your mother’s done that already in her letter.
+Besides, there isn’t anything to make a fuss about. I gave the tip to
+dad, and he bought up enough stock in the Gold Beetle to get control.
+Then he called a meeting, voted to go ahead with the mine, and--did it.
+And he found a whole bunch of ore, just as I knew he would. He don’t
+need any thanks. Why, ginger, the old mine will make him richer than it
+will you folks!”
+
+“Well, then, I’ll thank you again,” said Allan.
+
+“If you do, I’ll punch you! Look, there’s Rindgely with his folks.
+Nice-looking woman, that mother of his. Say, maybe I ain’t glad I
+didn’t have to show that confession of him!”
+
+“So’m I,” said Allan, heartily. “It would have been a shame to prevent
+him from graduating. After all, I don’t suppose he realized what he was
+doing.”
+
+“Well, I don’t know about that,” answered Pete. “Anyhow, I’m glad we
+caught on to him in time. And it was all Two Spot’s doing, too; did you
+ever think of that? If she hadn’t rolled that ball of paper to my feet
+I’d never have seen that chap’s name and asked about him. It was that
+that put me onto the game. I remembered Tommy’s telling about Rindgely
+and the St. Thomas Club. By the way, it’s time those fellows showed up.”
+
+“Tommy and Hal? They’re always late. Have you heard Tommy’s voice? He
+cheered so hard at the ball game this afternoon that he can’t talk
+above a whisper. Hal’s trying to induce him to sing with the glee club.”
+
+“There’s Hooker and Long. What sort of a captain do you suppose Long
+will make?”
+
+“First rate, I should think. The fellows like him and he’s a
+hard-working, earnest sort of a fellow.”
+
+“Well, just as long as they didn’t light on Monroe,” said Pete. “That
+man will be the death of me, he puts on so many airs. Next fall, when
+I get back, I’m going to start right in and learn how to throw the
+hammer, and keep at it until I can beat him at that, too.”
+
+“You’ll be busy at football,” suggested Allan.
+
+“Football? Oh--well, maybe; football isn’t a bad game, after all. But--
+Here they are. O Tommy! Tommy Sweet!”
+
+Tommy and Hal, attracted by Pete’s bellow, turned and joined them.
+
+“Thought we’d never get here,” said Tommy, hoarsely. “Hal got mixed up
+with an ice-cream freezer and ate six saucerfuls before I could drag
+him away.”
+
+“That’s so,” Hal confessed. “That’s the trouble with breaking training;
+things taste so good and it’s so jolly nice to be able to eat all you
+want to. I expect to be fine and sick to-night.”
+
+“You have every right to,” said Allan. “When a little old freshman gets
+taken onto the varsity and makes a home run in the ninth inning, just
+when it’s needed, and lets in three men----”
+
+“Oh, shut up! And come on up to the room and eat. We can hear the music
+finely from the windows. I’ve got some nice cold ginger ale up there,
+and Mr. and Mrs. Guild ought to be along about now. Come on.”
+
+“Well, I never took much of a shine to ginger ale,” said Pete, drawing
+his big form erect; “the fizzy stuff always goes up my nose. But I’ll
+have some, for it sure is hot to-night.”
+
+“We’ll drink Tommy’s health,” said Hal, as they moved across the turf
+under the swaying lanterns, “and we’ll get him to sing us ‘A Health to
+King Charles’ in his nice new voice.”
+
+“Toast yourselves,” growled Tommy, hoarsely.
+
+“We will!” cried Allan. “We’ll toast ourselves, and we’ll drink to
+next year, when we’ll all be jolly sophomores--except you, Tommy dear,
+who’ll be a disgustingly serious and dignified junior.”
+
+Laughing, they crossed the yard, under the glow of the lanterns, and
+passed out of sight into the shadows of Elm Street. Against the front
+of College Hall appeared in sputtering purple flames the word
+
+
+“VALE.”
+
+
+
+
+BY RALPH HENRY BARBOUR.
+
+
+The Spirit of the School.
+
+The story of a boy who works his way through school. Illustrated in
+Colors. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+
+Four Afloat.
+
+Four Afoot.
+
+Four in Camp.
+
+A series of books relating the adventures of four boy companions.
+Illustrated in Colors, $1.50 each.
+
+
+On Your Mark!
+
+A Story of College Life and Athletics. Illustrated in Colors by C. M.
+RELYEA. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+No other author has caught so truly the spirit of school and college
+life.
+
+
+The Arrival of Jimpson.
+
+Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+Stories of college pranks, baseball, football, hockey, and college life.
+
+
+The Book of School and College Sports.
+
+Fully illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.75 net; postage additional.
+
+
+Weatherby’s Inning.
+
+A Story of College Life and Baseball. Illustrated in Colors by C. M.
+RELYEA. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+In this recent book Mr. Barbour tells a story of college life and sport.
+
+
+Behind the Line.
+
+A Story of School and Football. Illustrated by C. M. RELYEA. 12mo.
+Cloth, $1.50.
+
+
+Captain of the Crew.
+
+Illustrated by C. M. RELYEA. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+A fresh, graphic, delightful story that appeals to all healthy boys and
+girls.
+
+
+For the Honor of the School.
+
+A Story of School Life and Interscholastic Sport. Illustrated by C. M.
+RELYEA. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+
+The Half-Back.
+
+Illustrated by B. WEST CLINEDINST. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+“It is in every sense an out-and-out boys’ book.”--_Boston Herald._
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+By C. C. HOTCHKISS.
+
+The Land Hero of 1812.
+
+Illustrated by B. WEST CLINEDINST. 12mo. Cloth, $1.25.
+
+Mr. Hotchkiss, who is well known through his stories for grown-ups, has
+chosen as the subject of his first book for boys the life of Andrew
+Jackson. While the facts of history are presented, the author adroitly
+constructed his story upon the most picturesque incidents of Jackson’s
+varied career. The book is therefore instructive as well as interesting.
+
+
+By KIRK MUNROE.
+
+The Outcast Warrior.
+
+Illustrated. 12mo. Ornamental Cloth, $1.50.
+
+This is a boys’ story of a white man turned Indian and his adventures
+in the Western wilderness. He distinguishes himself as a warrior and is
+known as Wicasta, the Man Chief of the Aricarees. He marries Koda, a
+Sioux captive, and becomes the father of Hanana (Morning Light).
+
+
+By OTTILIE A. LILJENCRANTZ.
+
+The Vinland Champions.
+
+Illustrated by the KINNEYS. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+A rousing good boys’ book with plenty of dash and go and a glimpse of
+the wild, free life of the Vikings in it. Every school-boy has heard of
+the vague rumor that the Norsemen discovered America before Christopher
+Columbus. The story tells of the party of one hundred Icelanders who
+went and dwelt there and called it the “Peace Land.”
+
+
+By JULIE M. LIPPMANN.
+
+Every-Day Girls.
+
+Illustrated in colors. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+The best book for girls that has appeared in years; it has all the
+charm and sweetness that is contained in “Little Women.” It is not
+merely a chronicle of events, however, but teaches a valuable lesson.
+The girls are sweet and lovely and quarrelsome and impulsive, just as
+every-day girls are. They have a hard and exciting time, and they fight
+a battle and win it. It is a charming, wholesome book.
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+BY WILLIAM O. STODDARD.
+
+Each Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+The Boy Lincoln.
+
+This is an absorbing fanciful account of the early days of Abraham
+Lincoln when he was a boy living on the frontier.
+
+
+The Fight for the Valley.
+
+Colored Frontispiece and other Illustrations.
+
+A narrative of the brave defense of Fort Schuyler and the battle of
+Oriskany.
+
+
+The Spy of Yorktown.
+
+Colored Frontispiece.
+
+A story of the Yorktown campaign and Benedict Arnold.
+
+
+With the Black Prince.
+
+A Story of Adventure in the Fourteenth Century.
+
+The absorbing interest of this stirring historical romance will appeal
+to all young readers.
+
+
+Success Against Odds; or, How an American Boy Made his Way.
+
+In this spirited and interesting story Mr. Stoddard tells the
+adventures of a plucky boy who fought his own battles and made his way
+upward from poverty in a Long Island seashore town. It is a tale of
+pluck and self-reliance capitally told.
+
+
+The Red Patriot.
+
+A Story of the American Revolution.
+
+
+The Windfall; or, After the Flood.
+
+Illustrated by B. West Clinedinst.
+
+
+Chris, the Model-Maker.
+
+A Story of New York. With 6 full-page Illustrations by B. West
+Clinedinst.
+
+
+On the Old Frontier.
+
+With 10 full-page Illustrations.
+
+
+The Battle of New York.
+
+With 11 full-page Illustrations and colored Frontispiece.
+
+
+Little Smoke.
+
+A Story of the Sioux Indians. With 12 full-page Illustrations by F. S
+Dellenbaugh, portraits of Sitting Bull, Red Cloud, and other chiefs,
+and 72 head and tail pieces representing the various implements and
+surroundings of Indian life.
+
+
+Crowded Out o’ Crofield.
+
+With 23 Illustrations by C. T. Hill.
+
+The story of a country boy who fought his way to success in the
+metropolis.
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+BOOKS BY J. A. ALTSHELER.
+
+
+The Young Trailers.
+
+Illustrated. 12mo. Ornamental cloth, $1.50.
+
+A boys’ story, telling of the first settlers in Kentucky. Their
+pleasures and hardships, their means of protection, methods of
+obtaining food and ammunition are described in a way that makes the
+reader live with them. The life led by the young hero--his fights with
+Indians and his captivity among them--is vividly pictured.
+
+
+The Wilderness Road.
+
+A Romance of St. Clair’s Defeat and Wayne’s Victory. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+“That Mr. Altsheler has caught the wild, free spirit of the life which
+he depicts is evident on every page, and nowhere more so than in one of
+his final chapters, ‘The Meeting of the Chiefs,’ where he vitalizes the
+life-and-death struggle of a friendly and a hostile Indian.”--_New York
+Mail and Express._
+
+
+In Circling Camps.
+
+A Romance of the American Civil War. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+“We do not often get as fine a picture as that which Mr. Altsheler
+paints. The tale covers the period from the election and inauguration
+of Lincoln until the surrender of Lee and the entrance of the Northern
+army into Richmond.... Every good American who enjoys the smell of
+powder and the crack of the rifle will appreciate the chapters that
+describe the battle of Gettysburg.”--_The Bookman._
+
+
+A Herald of the West.
+
+An American Story of 1811-1815. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+“A rattling good story, and unrivalled in fiction for its
+presentation of the American feeling toward England during our second
+conflict.”--_Boston Herald._
+
+
+A Soldier of Manhattan.
+
+And his Adventures at Ticonderoga and Quebec. 12mo. Ornamental cloth,
+$1.50.
+
+“The story is told in such a simple, direct way that it holds the
+reader’s interest to the end, and gives a most accurate picture of the
+times.”--_Boston Transcript._
+
+
+The Sun of Saratoga.
+
+A Romance of Burgoyne’s Surrender. 12mo. Ornamental cloth, $1.50.
+
+“Taken altogether, ‘The Sun of Saratoga’ is the best historical novel
+of American origin that has been written for years, if not, indeed, in
+a fresh, simple, unpretending, unlabored, manly way, that we have ever
+read.”--_New York Mail and Express._
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+COLUMBUS AND WASHINGTON.
+
+
+The Story of Columbus.
+
+By ELIZABETH EGGLESTON SEELYE. Edited by Dr. Edward Eggleston. With 100
+Illustrations by Allegra Eggleston. Delights of History Series. 12mo.
+Cloth, $1.75.
+
+“This is no ordinary work. It is preeminently a work of the present
+time and of the future as well.”--_Boston Traveler._
+
+“Mrs. Seelye’s book is pleasing in its general effect, and reveals the
+results of painstaking and conscientious study.”--_New York Tribune._
+
+“A very just account is given of Columbus, his failings being
+neither concealed nor magnified, but his real greatness being made
+plain.”--_New York Examiner._
+
+“The illustrations are particularly well chosen and neatly executed,
+and they add to the general excellence of the volume.”--_New York
+Times._
+
+“A brief, popular, interesting, and yet critical volume, just such as
+we should wish to place in the hands of a young reader. The authors of
+this volume have done their best to keep it on a high plane of accuracy
+and conscientious work without losing sight of their readers.”--_New
+York Independent._
+
+
+The Story of Washington.
+
+By ELIZABETH EGGLESTON SEELYE. Edited by Dr. Edward Eggleston. With
+over 100 Illustrations by Allegra Eggleston. Delights of History
+Series. 12mo. Cloth, $1.75.
+
+“One of the best accounts of the incidents of Washington’s life for
+young people.”--_New York Observer._
+
+“The Washington described is not that of the demigod or hero of the
+first half of this century, but the man Washington, with his defects as
+well as his virtues, his unattractive traits as well as his pleasing
+ones.... There is greater freedom from errors than in more pretentious
+lives.”--_Chicago Tribune._
+
+“The illustrations are numerous, and actually illustrate, including
+portraits and views, with an occasional map and minor pictures
+suggestive of the habits and customs of the period. It is altogether an
+attractive and useful book, and one that should find many readers among
+American boys and girls.”--_Philadelphia Times._
+
+“Will be read with interest by young and old. It is told with good
+taste and accuracy, and if the first President loses some of his
+mythical goodness in this story, the real greatness of his natural
+character stands out distinctly, and his example will be all the
+more helpful to the boys and girls of this generation.”--_New York
+Churchman._
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+BY HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH.
+
+
+The Young McKinley.
+
+Illustrated. 12mo. Ornamental Cloth, $1.50.
+
+Mr. Butterworth portrays the future President at school, where, after
+a bitter disappointment, the crusty old school-teacher, who has a good
+heart beneath his severe exterior, says to him: “Never mind, you may be
+President yet.” He traces President McKinley’s career through his army
+days to the time when he was preparing for that great political career
+which made the blow that struck him down at the height of his glory a
+blow to the whole United States.
+
+
+Brother Jonathan; or, The Alarm Post in the Cedars.
+
+A Tale of Early Connecticut. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+
+In the Days of Audubon.
+
+A Tale of the “Protector of Birds.” Illustrated by B. West Clinedinst
+and others. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+
+In the Days of Jefferson; or, The Six Golden Horseshoes.
+
+A Tale of Republican Simplicity. Illustrated by F. T. Merrill. $1.50.
+
+
+The Story of Magellan.
+
+A Tale of the Discovery of the Philippines. Illustrated by F. T.
+Merrill and others. $1.50.
+
+
+The Treasure Ship.
+
+A Story of Sir William Phipps and the Inter-Charter Period in
+Massachusetts. Illustrated by B. West Clinedinst and others. $1.50.
+
+
+The Pilot of the Mayflower.
+
+Illustrated by H. Winthrop Peirce and others. $1.50.
+
+
+True to His Home.
+
+A Tale of the Boyhood of Franklin. Illustrated by H. Winthrop Peirce.
+$1.50.
+
+
+The Wampum Belt; or, The Fairest Page of History.
+
+A Tale of William Penn’s Treaty with the Indians. With 6 full-page
+Illustrations. $1.50.
+
+
+The Knight of Liberty.
+
+A Tale of the Fortunes of Lafayette. With 6 full-page Illustrations.
+$1.50.
+
+
+The Patriot Schoolmaster.
+
+A Tale of the Minutemen and the Sons of Liberty. With 6 full-page
+Illustrations by H. Winthrop Peirce. $1.50.
+
+
+In the Boyhood of Lincoln.
+
+A Story of the Black Hawk War and the Tunker Schoolmaster. With 12
+Illustrations and colored Frontispiece. $1.50.
+
+
+The Boys of Greenway Court.
+
+A Story of the Early Years of Washington. With 10 full-page
+Illustrations. $1.50.
+
+
+The Log School-House on the Columbia.
+
+With 13 full-page Illustrations by J. Carter Beard, E. J. Austen, and
+others. $1.50.
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+YOUNG HEROES OF OUR NAVY.
+
+
+_NEW VOLUME._
+
+With the Flag in the Channel.
+
+The Adventures of Captain Gustavus Conyngham. By JAMES BARNES.
+Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.00.
+
+
+OTHER VOLUMES IN THE SERIES.
+
+Illustrated. 12mo. Each, $1.00.
+
+
+Reuben James.
+
+A Hero of the Forecastle. By CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY, Author of “Paul
+Jones.” Illustrated by George Gibbs and others.
+
+
+The Hero of Manila.
+
+Dewey on the Mississippi and the Pacific. By ROSSITER JOHNSON.
+Illustrated by B. West Clinedinst and others.
+
+
+The Hero of Erie (_Commodore Perry_).
+
+By JAMES BARNES, Author of “Midshipman Farragut,” “Commodore
+Bainbridge,” etc. With 10 full-page Illustrations.
+
+
+Commodore Bainbridge.
+
+From the Gunroom to the Quarter-deck. By JAMES BARNES. Illustrated by
+George Gibbs and others.
+
+
+Midshipman Farragut.
+
+By JAMES BARNES. Illustrated by Carlton F. Chapman.
+
+
+Decatur and Somers.
+
+By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL. With 6 full-page Illustrations by J. O.
+Davidson and others.
+
+
+Paul Jones.
+
+By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL. With 8 full-page Illustrations.
+
+
+Midshipman Paulding.
+
+A True Story of the War of 1812. By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL. With 6
+full-page Illustrations.
+
+
+Little Jarvis.
+
+The Story of the Heroic Midshipman of the Frigate Constellation. By
+MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL. With 6 full-page Illustrations.
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+A UNIQUE BOOK.
+
+“_For children, parents, teachers, and all who are interested in the
+psychology of childhood._”
+
+
+The Book of Knight and Barbara.
+
+By DAVID STARR JORDAN. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+The curious and fascinating tales and pictures of this unique book are
+introduced by Dr. Jordan with the following preface: “The only apology
+the author can make in this case is that he never meant to do it. He
+had told his own children many stories of many kinds, some original,
+some imitative, some travesties of the work of real story-tellers.
+Two students of the department of education in the Stanford
+University--Mrs. Louise Maitland, of San Jose, and Miss Harriet Hawley,
+of Boston--asked him to repeat these stories before other children.
+Miss Hawley, as a stenographer, took them down for future reference,
+and while the author was absent on the Bering Sea Commission of 1896
+she wrote them out in full, thus forming the material of this book.
+Copies of the stories were placed by Mrs. Maitland in the hands of
+hundreds of children. These drew illustrative pictures, after their
+fashion; and from the multitude offered, Mrs. Maitland chose those
+which are here reproduced. The scenes in the stories were also
+subjected to the criticisms of the children, and in many cases amended
+to meet their suggestions. These pictures made by the children have
+been found to interest deeply other children, a fact which gives them
+a definite value as original documents in the study of the workings of
+the child-mind. At the end of the volume are added a few true stories
+of birds and of beasts, told to a different audience. With these are a
+few drawings by university students, which are intended to assist the
+imagination of child-readers.”
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATED JUVENILE STORIES.
+
+
+Fifty-two Stories for Girls.
+
+Edited by ALFRED H. MILES. Illustrated. 12mo. Ornamental Cloth, $1.50.
+
+A story for every week in the year. The very best present a girl
+could have. A constant reminder of the giver. Fifty-two stories by
+the best English writers, inculcating the love of honor, truth, and
+loyalty. These are such stories as it will do little girls good to
+read. They teach the love of home and many lovable qualities. Among the
+contributors are Margaret Watson, Jennie Chapman, Lucy Hardy, Alfred H.
+Miles, Lucie E. Jackson, and Thomas Archer.
+
+
+Fifty-two Stories for Boys.
+
+Edited by ALFRED H. MILES. Illustrated. 12mo. Ornamental Cloth, $1.50.
+
+A story for every week in the year. The very best present a boy could
+have. A constant reminder of the giver. Fifty-two stories by the best
+English writers, inculcating the love of honor, manhood, truth, and
+patriotism. These are stories which stir the imagination and stimulate
+the reader to try to become a great man himself. Among the contributors
+are Alfred H. Miles, Robert Overton, Lieut.-Col. A. J. Macpherson, G.
+A. Henty, F. M. Holmes, and Grace Stebbing.
+
+
+Fifty-two More Stories for Boys.
+
+Fifty-two More Stories for Girls.
+
+Edited by ALFRED H. MILES. Illustrated. 12mo. Each $1.50.
+
+These two volumes are companions to the two “Fifty-two Stories” books
+published last fall. Each book will contain a story for every week in
+the year, particularly suited to the tastes of young boys and girls.
+The stories are by the best writers and cover a wide range of subjects.
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+APPLETONS’ SUPPLEMENTARY READERS.
+
+
+Uncle Robert’s Geography.
+
+By the late FRANCIS W. PARKER and NELLIE L. HELM. A Series of
+Geographical Readers for Supplementary Use. Four volumes. Illustrated.
+12mo. Cloth.
+
+    1. Playtime and Seedtime      32 cents.
+    2. On the Farm                42   ”
+    3. Uncle Robert’s Visit       50   ”
+    4. A River Journey            60   ”
+
+Uncle Robert teaches children how to read aright the great book of
+Nature. He makes study a pleasure. He teaches geography in the right
+way. He makes rural life and occupations attractive. He has a deep and
+loving sympathy with child-life. He believes in the education that
+strengthens the body as well as the mind. He tells children instructive
+stories to arouse their imaginations and stimulate their observing
+powers. He believes that every normal child may be made useful in
+the world. He has a boundless faith in human progress, and finds his
+greatest hopes in childhood and its possibilities.
+
+=These extraordinarily suggestive little books by the late Colonel
+Parker--one of the most far-sighted students of child-life of our
+day--have approved themselves to thousands of primary teachers. They
+form one of the few successful attempts to incorporate that which is
+close by nature to child perception into the very warp and woof of the
+child mind. They give an intelligible meaning and vitality to the round
+of experiences that come to all normal children in our land.=
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+ Transcriber’s Notes:
+
+ --Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_); text in
+   bold by “equal” signs (=bold=).
+
+ --Except for the frontispiece, illustrations have been moved to
+   follow the text that they illustrate, so the page number of the
+   illustration may not match the page number in the List of
+   Illustrations.
+
+ --Printer, punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently
+   corrected.
+
+ --Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.
+
+ --Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.
+
+ --The Author’s em-dash and long dash styles have been retained.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of On Your Mark!, by Ralph Henry Barbour
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON YOUR MARK! ***
+
+***** This file should be named 45140-0.txt or 45140-0.zip *****
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diff --git a/45140/45140-0.zip b/45140/45140-0.zip
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of On Your Mark!, by Ralph Henry Barbour
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: On Your Mark!
+       A Story of College Life and Athletics
+
+Author: Ralph Henry Barbour
+
+Illustrator: C. M. Relyea
+
+Release Date: March 15, 2014 [EBook #45140]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON YOUR MARK! ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Donald Cummings and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ON YOUR MARK!
+
+
+
+
+BY RALPH HENRY BARBOUR.
+
+Each 12mo, Cloth.
+
+
+  The Spirit of the School.
+    Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.
+
+  Four Afloat.
+    Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.
+
+  Four Afoot.
+    Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.
+
+  Four in Camp.
+    Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.
+
+  On Your Mark.
+    Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.
+
+  The Arrival of Jimpson.
+    Illustrated. $1.50.
+
+  Weatherby's Inning.
+    Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.
+
+  Behind the Line.
+    Illustrated. $1.50.
+
+  Captain of the Crew.
+    Illustrated. $1.50.
+
+  For the Honor of the School.
+    Illustrated. $1.50.
+
+  The Half-Back.
+    Illustrated. $1.50.
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "Fooling?" Burley echoed. "Why, no, I ain't fooling."]
+
+
+
+
+ON YOUR MARK!
+
+A Story of College Life and Athletics
+
+
+BY RALPH HENRY BARBOUR
+
+AUTHOR OF BEHIND THE LINE, WEATHERBY'S INNING, ETC.
+
+
+_ILLUSTRATED BY C. M. RELYEA_
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+  New York
+  D. Appleton and Company
+  1908
+
+
+
+
+  COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY
+  D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
+
+
+_Published September, 1904_
+
+
+
+
+        TO
+   BERT AND LILA
+
+   IN MEMORY OF
+  "THE BIG HOUSE"
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+ CHAPTER                                         PAGE
+     I.--THE WINNER OF THE MILE                     1
+    II.--A VISITING CARD                           12
+   III.--ON THE CINDERS                            22
+    IV.--HAL HAS AN IDEA                           33
+     V.--"MR. PETER BURLEY, BLACKWATER, COL."      45
+    VI.--"RIGHT GUARD BACK!"                       57
+   VII.--"THE RANCH"                               65
+  VIII.--PETE'S CLUB TABLE                         73
+    IX.--THE DUCK HUNT                             86
+     X.--DINNER FOR TWO                            96
+    XI.--THE CAPSIZED BOAT                        106
+   XII.--TOMMY CORRECTS A REPORT                  120
+  XIII.--PETE WRITES HOME                         130
+   XIV.--HOCKEY--WITH VARIATIONS                  139
+    XV.--IN THE "CORRAL"                          147
+   XVI.--THE INDOOR MEETING                       157
+  XVII.--ALLAN LEAVES THE CLUB TABLE              172
+ XVIII.--AN ALARM OF FIRE                         181
+   XIX.--PETE PUTS THE SHOT                       193
+    XX.--TRACK AND FIELD                          203
+   XXI.--SUNSHINE AND SHADOW                      210
+  XXII.--A NEWSPAPER PARAGRAPH                    218
+ XXIII.--THE FRESHMAN GAME                        227
+  XXIV.--"ON YOUR MARK!"                          239
+   XXV.--THE LAST EVENT                           254
+  XXVI.--"VALE"                                   263
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+                                                             FACING
+                                                               PAGE
+
+  "Fooling?" Burley echoed. "Why, no, I ain't fooling."
+                                                _Frontispiece_
+  A white-clad form sped across the finish.                      11
+  "Sorry you don't approve of them."                             94
+  Pete tipped him over the barrier.                             143
+
+
+
+
+ON YOUR MARK
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE WINNER OF THE MILE
+
+
+"All out for the mile!"
+
+Myer, clerk of the course, stuck his head inside the dressing-tent and
+bawled the command in a voice already made hoarse by his afternoon's
+duties. In response a dozen or so fellows gathered their blankets
+or dressing-gowns about them and tumbled out into the dusk of a
+mid-October evening. Because of the fact that on Wednesday and Saturday
+afternoons the athletic field was required for the football contests
+it was necessary to hold the Fall Handicap Meeting on one of the other
+days of the week. This year it was on Friday, October 17th, and because
+the Erskine College faculty does not permit athletic contests of any
+sort to begin before four o'clock on any day save Saturday, the mile
+run, the last event on the program, was not reached until almost six
+o'clock; and in the middle of October in the latitude of Centerport it
+is almost dark at that time.
+
+It was cold, too. A steady north wind blew down the home-stretch and
+made the waiting contestants dance nimbly about on their spiked shoes
+and rub their bare legs. That wind had helped the sprinters, hurdlers,
+and jumpers very considerably, since it had blown against their backs
+on the straightaway and the runway, enabling them to equal the Erskine
+record in two cases and break it in a third. It was Stearns, '04, the
+track-team captain and crack sprinter who, starting from scratch, had
+performed the latter feat. Until to-day the Erskine record for the
+220-yards dash had been twenty-two seconds flat; this afternoon, with
+the wind behind him all the way, Stearns had clipped a fifth of a
+second from the former time, to the delight of the shivering audience,
+who had cheered the announcement of the result loudly, glad to be able
+to warm themselves with enthusiasm on any pretext.
+
+But if the north wind had been kind to the sprinters, the middle- and
+long-distance men had derived no benefit from it; for while it aided
+them on the home-stretch, it held them back on the opposite side of the
+field. The spectators had already begun to stream away toward college
+when Myer at length succeeded in getting the last of the milers placed
+upon their marks. The two-mile event had been tame, with Conroy, '04,
+jogging over the line a good twenty yards ahead of the second man,
+and there was no reason to expect anything more exciting in the mile.
+Rindgely and Hooker were both on scratch and surely capable of beating
+out any of the ambitious freshmen, who, with a leavening of other
+class men, were sprinkled around the turn as far as the 200 yards.
+To be sure, Rindgely and Hooker might fight it out, but it was more
+probable that they had already tossed a coin between themselves to see
+who was to have first prize and who second. So the audience, by this
+time pretty well chilled, went off in search of more comfortable places
+than Erskine Field; or at least most of them did; a handful joined the
+groups of officials along the track, and jumped and stamped about in an
+attempt to get the blood back into toes and fingers.
+
+Clarke Mason was one of those electing to stay. Possibly the fact
+that he had had the forethought to stop in his room on his way to the
+field and don a comfortable white sweater may have had something to do
+with his decision. At least it is safe to say that the mere fact of
+his being managing editor of the Erskine Purple was not accountable,
+for the Purple had a small but assiduous corps of reporters in its
+employment, one of whom, looking very blue about the nose, Clarke spoke
+to on his way across to where Stearns, having got back into his street
+clothes, was talking to Kernahan, the trainer.
+
+"Well, who's going to win this, Billy?" asked Clarke. (The track
+trainer was "Billy" to only a select few, and many a student, seeking
+to ingratiate himself with the little Irishman, had had his head almost
+snapped off for too familiar use of that first name.) Kernahan looked
+over the contestants and nodded to the men on scratch.
+
+"One of them," he answered.
+
+"Then you have no infant prodigies for this event in the freshman
+candidates?"
+
+"I don't know of any. Two or three of them may turn out fast, but I
+guess they can't hurry Hooker or Rindgely much."
+
+"Who's the chap you've got by himself over there on the turn?" asked
+Stearns.
+
+"That's--I don't mind his name; he's a freshman from Hillton; he wanted
+more handicap, but I couldn't give it to him, not with those legs of
+his. He's built for a runner, anyhow."
+
+"He surely is," answered Stearns, "as far as legs are concerned.
+But legs aren't everything. Hello! you haven't given that little
+black-haired sophomore much of a show; thirty yards won't help him much
+in the mile."
+
+"Track, there!" cried a voice.
+
+The three moved back on to the turf, Kernahan, who was timer, pulling
+out his watch. The dozen or so milers who had been summoned from the
+tent had had their ranks increased by several others. Hooker and
+Rindgely had the scratch to themselves, but the thirty yards held three
+men scarcely less speedy, and from that point onward around the turn
+as far as the middle of the back-stretch the others were scattered
+in little groups of twos and threes. Only the freshman with the long
+legs was alone. He had been given a handicap of 120 yards, and was
+jogging back and forth across the track with the bottom of his drab
+dressing-gown flapping around his slender ankles. Ahead of him in the
+gathering twilight six other runners, in two groups, were fidgeting
+about in the cold. Across the field floated the command to get ready.
+He tossed his wrap aside, revealing a lithe figure of little above
+medium height with long legs in which the muscles played prettily as he
+leaned forward with outstretched arm. At the report of the pistol he
+sprang away with long easy strides that seemed to eat up the distance.
+At the beginning of the home-stretch he had caught up the nearest bunch
+of runners, and at the mark he was speeding close behind the foremost
+men and taking the pace from the leader. It had cost him something to
+gain the position, and to the watchers about the finish it seemed that
+he was already spent.
+
+"Your long-legged freshman's done for, I guess," said Clarke.
+
+"Yes, he's too ambitious. Has a pretty stride, though, hasn't he,
+Billy?" Walter Stearns followed the freshman runner with his gaze while
+he began the turn. Kernahan too was watching him, and with something
+like interest. But all he said was:
+
+"Stride's pretty good; feet drag a good deal, though."
+
+"Who's that closing up?" asked Stearns. "Oh, it's the sophomore chap
+with the black hair. He's an idiot, that's what he is. Look! he's
+trying to pass Long-legs. There he goes! Long-legs has sense, anyhow.
+Sophomore's taken the lead, and look at the pace he's making! Long-legs
+is dropping back; none but a fool would try to keep up to that."
+
+They were at the turn now, and the gathering darkness made it difficult
+to determine who was who. So the watchers gave their attention to
+the scratch-men and one or two stragglers who were bunched together
+half-way down the back-stretch. Rindgely and Hooker were close
+together, the latter putting his toes down squarely into the former's
+prints. Both were running easily and with the consciousness of plenty
+of power in reserve. When the turn was begun they had gained slightly
+on the others near them and were about 120 yards behind the first
+bunch. The black-haired sophomore was still setting the pace when he
+crossed the mark again. Behind him at short intervals sped four others,
+and last in the group came the freshman with the long legs. The
+half-hundred spectators that remained were clustered close to the track
+near the finish and, in spite of chattering teeth, were displaying some
+enthusiasm. A junior named Harris who was running third was encouraged
+lustily, but most of the applause was reserved for the two cracks,
+Rindgely and Hooker; they were well known and well liked; besides, they
+were pretty certain to win, and it is always satisfactory to back the
+victor.
+
+"What's this, the third lap?" Clarke asked, thumping his bare hands
+together. "Well, I'm going back; better come along, Walt. You'll freeze
+here. If we're going to have this sort of weather in October, I'd like
+to know what's going to happen to us in December."
+
+"Well, I guess I'll go along," Stearns said. "It surely is cold, and we
+know how this is going to end. There go Rindgely and Hooker now; watch
+'em overhaul the bunch. If you see Ames, Billy, tell him I said he was
+to look me up to-night, will you?"
+
+"All right," answered the trainer. "But you'd better see this out;
+there's something in the way of a finish coming pretty quick."
+
+"Why, what's up?" asked the track-team captain, turning quickly to
+observe the runners.
+
+"Well, I don't know for sure," answered Kernahan, cautiously, "but the
+scratch-men aren't going to get their mugs without a fight for them,
+I'm thinking."
+
+"Who's in the running?" Stearns asked, eagerly. Once more the first men
+were coming down the home-stretch. But now the order was changed. The
+black-haired sophomore was not in sight, but in his place sped Hooker,
+an easy, confident smile on his face. On his heels was Rindgely. Then
+came the junior, Harris, and beside him, fighting for the pole, was a
+little plump senior. Behind this pair and about five yards distant was
+the long-legged freshman. His head was held well, but his breathing was
+loud and tortured. Stearns looked each man over searchingly. Then he
+turned to the trainer.
+
+"Last lap! Last lap!" was the cry.
+
+"Say, Billy, you don't mean Harris?" shouted Stearns when he could make
+himself heard.
+
+Kernahan shook his head.
+
+"Then who?"
+
+"Keep your eyes on Ware," said the trainer.
+
+"Ware? Who the dickens is Ware?" asked Stearns. But the trainer was
+scattering the spectators from beside the finish, and so paid no heed.
+The stragglers were passing now and the crowd was speeding them along
+with announcements that the last lap had begun and with mildly ironical
+injunctions to "move up head" or "cut across the field." Then all eyes
+were turned to the back-stretch, where the five leaders, survivors of
+a field of some fifteen, were racing along, dim whitish forms in the
+evening twilight. Hooker was setting a hot pace now, and the gaps were
+lengthening. But as the last turn was reached the figures changed their
+positions; some one dropped back; some one else moved suddenly to the
+front. But it was all a blur and the identity of the runners could be
+only surmised.
+
+"That's Rindgely taking the lead, I guess," said Stearns. "That means
+that Hooker's to sprint the last fifty yards or so and get first. But
+I'd like to know who Ware is. Do you know?"
+
+Clarke shook his head.
+
+"Search me," he answered. "Maybe it's the long-legged chap. He's still
+in the bunch, I think."
+
+"Yes, but he was just about done up when the last lap was finished. Did
+you notice? He was gasping. Where's Billy?"
+
+"Over there at the mark. He's holding a watch; if you speak to him now
+he'll jump down your throat. Here they come. Let's move over here where
+we can see."
+
+"Well, whoever's in the lead is making a mighty painful pace for the
+finish of the mile," exclaimed the captain. "Seems to me he's 'way
+ahead, too!"
+
+"It isn't Rindgely," said Clarke, decisively. "It must be----"
+
+"Come on, Freshman!" cried a mighty voice at Clarke's elbow, and a
+big broad-shouldered youth crashed by, sending the editor of the
+Purple reeling on to the cinders, from where he was pulled back by
+Stearns. Clarke glared around in search of the cause of his ignominious
+performance, and saw him standing, a whole head above the crowd, a few
+paces away at the edge of the track. He seemed to be quite unconscious
+of Clarke's anger. Leaning out over the cinders, he was waving a big
+hand and bellowing in a voice that drowned all other cries:
+
+"Come on, Freshman! Dig your spurs in! _Whoo-ee!_"
+
+Clarke's anger gave way to excitement. Down the home-stretch came the
+runners, sprinting for the mark. Stearns was shouting unintelligible
+things at his side and apparently trying to climb his back in order to
+see the finish. The throng was yelling for Hooker, for Rindgely, for
+Harris.
+
+And then, suddenly, comparative silence fell. Twenty yards away the
+runners became recognizable. The crowd stared in wonderment. Well in
+the lead and increasing that lead with every long, perfect stride came
+an unknown, a youth with pale cheeks disked with crimson, a youth
+of medium height with lithe body and long legs that were working like
+parts of machinery. Back of him ran Hooker; beyond, dim figures told of
+a struggle between Rindgely and the junior for third place. It was the
+stentorian voice of the big fellow at the edge of the track that broke
+the momentary silence of surprise.
+
+"Pull up, Freshman, it's all yours!" it shouted.
+
+Then confusion reigned. The little throng raced along the track toward
+the finish. Hooker's friends urged him to win, while others applauded
+the unknown. And in a second it was all over, mile race and fall
+meeting. A white-clad form sped across the finish six yards in the
+lead, tossed his arms in air, swerved to the left, and pitched blindly
+into the throng.
+
+[Illustration: A white-clad form sped across the finish.]
+
+"What's the matter with Seven?" shrieked a small youth at Stearns's
+elbow. The track-team captain turned.
+
+"Who was that fellow that won?" he demanded.
+
+"Ware," was the jubilant reply. "Ware, '07!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+A VISITING CARD
+
+
+When Allan Ware recovered enough to take an interest in things he found
+himself lying in the dressing-tent with some one--it afterward proved
+to be Harris--striving to draw a coat from under him. No one was paying
+any special attention to him, and the tent was filled with the hard
+breathing of the runners, who were now only intent upon getting into
+their clothes. Allan took a deep breath and obligingly rolled over so
+that Harris could have his coat. Then he sat up.
+
+He had not fainted at the end of the race; it is very seldom that
+a runner loses consciousness, no matter how hard or prolonged the
+struggle has been. The collapse is produced by oppression of the
+chest, less frequently of the heart in particular, and the consequent
+difficulty of breathing is the most painful feature of it. Allan had
+been dimly aware from the moment he pitched into the throng until now
+of what had passed, but his interest in events had been slight; he
+knew that arms had reached out and saved him from falling and that
+some one--a very strong some one, evidently--had picked him up like a
+feather and carried him the short distance to the tent. Allan wondered,
+now that he could breathe again without exertion, who the fellow had
+been.
+
+Every one was intent upon dressing and no one looked as though
+expecting thanks. Rindgely, still blowing like a porpoise, was
+balancing himself on one leg and trying to thrust the other into his
+trousers, while he explained to Hooker that the track was like mush and
+no one should be expected to run on it. Hooker, looking amused, grunted
+as he pulled his shirt over his head. Allan scrambled to his feet and
+began to dress. He couldn't help wondering what the others thought of
+his victory; it seemed rather important to him, but he had never won
+a race before, although he had taken part in a good many, and so it
+probably appeared more wonderful than it really was. The trainer stuck
+his head in at the door.
+
+"Hurry up, now," he commanded. "Get up to the gym, and don't be afraid
+of the water when you get there."
+
+This familiar formula met with the usual groans and hoots, and Kernahan
+grinned about the tent. Starting to withdraw his bullet-shaped head
+with its scant adornment of carroty hair, the trainer's eyes fell on
+Allan. He picked his way over the tangle of legs.
+
+"Well, are you done up?" he asked. Allan shook his head.
+
+"That's the boy, then!" continued Billy, heartily. "You'd better come
+out Monday and we'll see what you can do. Did you ever run much?"
+
+"Some," answered Allan, "at school."
+
+"Well, you see me Monday."
+
+When the trainer had gone, Hooker called across:
+
+"Say, Ware, you're done for now."
+
+"How's that?" asked Allan.
+
+"Why, when Billy takes a fancy to you, he just merely works you to
+death. You weigh when you get over to gym and then weigh again, say,
+three weeks from now. You won't know yourself."
+
+A laugh went up. Rindgely chimed in with:
+
+"You'll find your work different from winning a mile with a couple of
+hundred yards handicap."
+
+Allan had only had one hundred and twenty, but he didn't think it worth
+while correcting Rindgely, who was evidently rather sore over his
+defeat. Harris unexpectedly took up for him.
+
+"He didn't have that much handicap, Larry; and if he had, it wouldn't
+have made any difference to you, you old ice-wagon. What was the
+matter with you, anyhow?"
+
+Rindgely entered into elaborate explanations, which concerned the state
+of the track, the injustice of the handicapping, and many other things,
+and Harris laughed them to scorn.
+
+"Oh, you're just lazy," he jibed. "Your name's Lazy Larry."
+
+A howl of delight went up, and Allan looked to see Rindgely become
+angry. But, after a moment of indecision, he added his chuckle to the
+general hilarity. Allan turned to Harris.
+
+"I was rather done up after the run," he said, "and some fellow must
+have lugged me over here. Did you happen to see who he was?"
+
+"Yes; one of your class, a whopping big fellow named Burley. Know him,
+don't you?"
+
+Allan shook his head thoughtfully.
+
+"Well, you will when you see him."
+
+Harris picked up his togs and hurried off. Allan would have liked to
+walk back with him to the gym, but he thought the junior might think
+him "fresh" if he offered his company, and so he started back alone.
+It was almost dark now, and the lights in the college yard and in the
+village were twinkling brightly when he reached the corner of Poplar
+Street and turned down that elm-roofed thoroughfare toward his room.
+Poplar Street ends at Main Street in a little triangular grass-grown
+space known as College Park, and Allan's room was in the rambling
+corner house that faces the park and trails its length along Main
+Street. Allan thought his address sounded rather well: "1 College
+Park" had an aristocratic sound that pleased him. And since he had
+been unable to secure accommodations in one of the dormitories, he
+considered himself lucky to have found such comfortable quarters as
+Mrs. Purdy's house afforded.
+
+His room was large, with two windows in front reaching to the floor and
+four others arranged in couples along the side, and affording a clear
+view of the college yard, from McLean Hall to the library. The fact
+that former denizens had left comfortable window-seats at each side
+casement was a never-failing source of satisfaction to the new occupant
+of what the landlady called the "parlor study." In Allan's case, it was
+study and bedroom too. Next year Allan meant to room in the Yard, and
+for the present he was very well satisfied.
+
+His occupancy of less than a month had not staled the pleasure derived
+from knowing himself sole owner of all the apartment's array of
+brand-new furniture, carpeting, and draperies. To-night, after he had
+lighted all four of the burners in the gilded chandelier above the
+table, he paused with the charred match in hand and looked about him
+with satisfaction.
+
+The carpet was beautifully crimson, the draperies at the windows were
+equally resplendent, if more variegated in hue, the big study-table
+shone richly and reflected the light in its polished top, and the more
+familiar objects on the mantel and on the dark walls, accumulations of
+his school years, seemed to return his gaze with friendly interest.
+To-night, with the knowledge of his victory on the track adding new
+glamour to the scene, it seemed to Allan that his first year of college
+life was destined to be very happy and splendid.
+
+He stayed only long enough to change collar and cuffs, and then, with a
+boy's cheerful disregard of economy, left the four lights flaring and
+hurried across Main Street to Brown Hall and dinner.
+
+The afternoon's work had put a sharp edge on his appetite, and, having
+nodded to one or two acquaintances, he lost no time in addressing
+himself to the agreeable task of causing the total disappearance of
+a plate of soup. His preoccupation gives us an excellent opportunity
+to make a critical survey of him without laying ourselves open to the
+charge of impoliteness.
+
+Allan Ware was eighteen years old, a straight, lithe lad, with rather
+rebellious brown hair and a face still showing the summer's tan. His
+features were not perfect by any means, but they were all good, and
+if you would not have thought of calling the face handsome, you would
+nevertheless have liked it on the instant. There was a clearness and
+steadiness about the brown eyes, a gentleness about the mouth, and a
+firmness about the chin which all combined to render the countenance
+attractive and singularly wholesome. It was a face with which one would
+never think of associating meanness. And yet to jump to the conclusion
+that Allan had never done a mean act would have been rash; he was only
+an average boy, and as human as any of them.
+
+Allan had come up to Erskine from Hillton without heralding; he was
+not a star football player, a brilliant baseball man, nor a famous
+athlete; he had always run in the distances at the preparatory school
+principally because he liked running and not because he believed
+himself cut out for a record breaker. His afternoon's performance had
+been as much of a surprise to him as to any. At Hillton he had been
+rather popular among his set, but he had never attempted to become a
+leader. His classmates had gone to other colleges--many to Harvard and
+Yale, a few to Columbia and Princeton, only one to Erskine. Allan had
+chosen the latter college to please his mother; his own inclinations
+had been toward Yale, for Allan had lived all his life in New Haven,
+and was blue all through.
+
+But Allan's grandfather had gone to Erskine--his name was one of those
+engraved on the twin tablets in the chapel transept, tablets sacred to
+the memories of those sons of Erskine who had given their lives in the
+struggle for the preservation of the Union--and Allan's father had gone
+there, too. Allan couldn't remember very much about his father--the
+latter had died when the boy was ten years old--but he sympathized with
+his mother's wish that he also should receive his education under the
+elms of Centerport.
+
+His family was not any too well supplied with wealth, but his mother's
+tastes were simple and her wants few, and there had always been enough
+money forthcoming for the needs of his sister Dorothy, two years his
+junior, and for himself. If there had been any sacrifices at home, he
+had never known of them. At Hillton he had had about everything he
+wanted--his tastes were never extravagant--and the subject of money had
+never occupied his thoughts. At eighteen, if one is normal, there are
+heaps of things far more interesting than money. One of them is dinner.
+
+Allan was much interested in dinner to-night. He even found it
+necessary to indulge in a couple of "extras," in order to satisfy
+a very healthy appetite. For these he signed with an impressive
+flourish. When the last spoonful of ice-cream had disappeared he
+pushed back his chair and went out. In the coat-room he found a
+dark-complexioned and heavily built youth in the act of drawing on a
+pair of overshoes.
+
+"Couldn't find my boots," explained Hal Smiths, "so I put these over my
+slippers. Wait a minute and I'll go along."
+
+They left the hall together and walked briskly toward Main Street.
+Allan and Hal Smiths had never been particularly intimate at Hillton,
+but as they were the only two fellows from that school in the freshman
+class, they had naturally enough felt drawn toward each other since
+they had reached Erskine. During the last week, however, Hal had been
+making friends fast, and as a consequence Allan had seen less of him.
+Hal had quite a reputation, gained during his last year at Hillton, as
+a full-back, and he was generally conceded to be certain of making the
+freshman football team, if not the varsity second. To-night Hal was
+full of football matters, and Allan let him talk on uninterruptedly
+until they had reached the corner. There:
+
+"Come on down and play some pool," suggested Hal.
+
+But Allan shook his head. He liked pool, but with a condition in
+mathematics to work off it behooved him to do some studying.
+
+"I'll play some other night," he said. And then: "Say, Hal," he asked,
+"do you know a chap in our class named Burley?"
+
+"Pete Burley? Yes; what about him?"
+
+"Oh, nothing. What's he like?"
+
+"Like an elephant," answered Hal, disgustedly. "A big brute of a chap
+from Texas or Montana or somewhere out that way." Hal's ideas of the
+West were rather vague. "Met him the other day; struck me as a big
+idiot. Well, see you to-morrow."
+
+Hal swung off down Main Street and Allan turned toward his room,
+feeling quite virtuous for that he had resisted temptation in the shape
+of pool and was going home to toil. When he opened his door a sheet of
+paper torn from a blue-book fluttered to the floor. There was a pin in
+it and it had evidently been impaled on the door. Allan held it to the
+light and saw in big round, boyish characters the inscription:
+
+"PETE BURLEY."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+ON THE CINDERS
+
+
+On the following Monday, Allan set out after his three-o'clock
+recitation for Erskine Field. He stopped at his room long enough to
+leave his books and get his mail--the Sunday letter from home usually
+put in its appearance on Monday afternoon--and then went on out Poplar
+Street.
+
+It was a fine, mild afternoon, with the sunlight sifting down through
+the branches of the giant elms which line the way, and a suggestion of
+Indian summer in the air. If he hadn't been so busy with his letter he
+could have found plenty to interest him on the walk to the field, but,
+as it was, he was deeply concerned with the news from home.
+
+There was talk, his mother wrote, of closing down the Gold Beetle mine
+out in Colorado, from which distant enterprise the greater part of
+her income had long been derived in the shape of dividends on a large
+amount of stock; the gold-bearing ore had given out and the directors
+were to consider the course to pursue at a meeting in December.
+Meanwhile, his mother explained, the work had stopped, and so had
+the dividends, and she didn't like to consider what would happen if
+this source of income was shut off for all time. Allan tried to feel
+regretful over the matter, since his mother was clearly worried--more
+worried than she was willing to show, had he but known it--but the Gold
+Beetle was a long way off, it always had supplied them with money,
+and the idea that it was now to cease doing so seemed something quite
+preposterous. The Gold Beetle represented the family fortune, about all
+that remained after his father's affairs had been settled.
+
+Allan found other news more to his liking: Dorothy was getting on
+nicely at her new boarding-school and had survived the initial period
+of tragic homesickness; one of Allan's friends at Hillton, now a Yale
+freshman, had called at the house a few days before; and Edith Cinnamon
+had presented the household with a litter of three lovely kittens.
+Edith Cinnamon was the cat, Allan's particular pet, and the news of the
+interesting event remained in his mind after the reprehensible conduct
+of the Gold Beetle mine had departed from it. Mines stand merely for
+money, but kittens are pets, and Allan loved pets. A wonderful idea
+struck him: why not have his mother send him one of the kittens? He
+resolved to confer with Mrs. Purdy on his return; surely she would have
+no objections to his obtaining a room-mate to share the "parlor study"
+with him!
+
+When he had changed his clothes for a running costume in the locker
+house and reached the track he found fully half a score of fellows
+before him. There was Hooker jogging around the back-stretch; nearer
+at hand was Harris practising starts; in a group at the finish of the
+hurdles he saw Stearns, the track-team captain, Rindgely, several
+fellows whose faces he knew but whose names were unknown to him, and
+Billy Kernahan. He drew aside to let a file of runners by and then
+approached the group. Rindgely nodded to him slightly, not with any
+suggestion of unfriendliness, but rather in the manner of one who has
+never been properly introduced. Billy accompanied his salutation with a
+critical survey of the half-clothed figure confronting him.
+
+"How are you feeling to-day?" he asked.
+
+"Fine, thanks!" answered Allan.
+
+"That's the boy! We'll try you at three-quarters of a mile after a
+while. You'd better get warmed up, and then try half a dozen starts."
+
+While the trainer was speaking, Allan was aware of the fact that Walter
+Stearns was observing him with evident interest. When Billy ceased,
+Stearns said something to him in low tones, and the next moment Allan
+found himself being introduced to the track-team captain. Stearns was
+rather under than above medium height, with small features and alert
+eyes of a steel-gray shade that contrasted oddly with his black hair.
+Below his white trunks his legs were thin and muscular, and under the
+faded purple sweater his chest proved itself broad and deep. He spoke
+rapidly, as though his tongue had learned the secret of his legs and
+was given to dashes rather than to sustained efforts.
+
+"Glad to know you, Ware," he said, as he shook hands. "Glad you're
+coming out to help us."
+
+"I don't believe I'll be much help," answered Allan.
+
+"Oh, yes; bound to. I saw you run in the handicaps. That was a mighty
+pretty race you made. By the way, do you know Mr. Long? And this is
+Mr. Monroe. And Mr. Mason. Keep in with Mason. He's office-boy on the
+Purple and writes criticisms of the track team."
+
+Allan shook hands with the three, while the group laughed at Stearns's
+fling at the managing editor of the college weekly. Long was a
+startlingly tall fellow, with a crooked nose and twinkling, yellowish
+eyes, and Monroe was short and thick-set, and looked ill-tempered.
+Mason, Allan recognized as one of a half-dozen men whom he had seen
+about college and as to whose identity he had been curious. Mason was
+the sort of fellow that attracts attention: tall, broad-shouldered,
+with shrewd, kindly eyes behind glasses and a firm mouth under a
+straight and sensitive nose. He looked very much the gentleman, and
+Allan was glad to make his acquaintance. He was in the dark as to what
+position Mason really occupied on the Purple, and so the point of
+Stearns's joke was lost on him. But he smiled, nevertheless, having
+learned that it is sometimes well to assume knowledge when one hasn't
+it.
+
+"See you again," said Stearns. The others nodded with various degrees
+of friendliness and Allan took himself off. The track was in good
+condition to-day and held the spikes firmly. Allan jogged up and down
+the stretch a few times, trying his muscles, which on Saturday had felt
+a bit stiff after the mile run, and lifting his knees high. Then he
+started around the track. Half-way around he drew up behind Hooker.
+
+"Hello!" said the latter. "Nice day, isn't it?"
+
+Allan agreed that it was, and the two went on together to the turn.
+There Hooker turned up the straightaway.
+
+"Going to try starts?" he asked. "Let's go up to the end there."
+
+Allan couldn't see the necessity for becoming proficient in the
+crouching start until Hooker explained as they returned from a brief
+dash, in which the younger lad had been left wofully far behind.
+
+"Sometimes," said Hooker, "you'll want the pole at the start, and if
+you're placed two or three places away from it, you won't get it from a
+stand, you see. But if you use the crouch and get away quick, you have
+a pretty good show of getting ahead of the men who have the inside of
+you. Let's try it again. You give the signal this time."
+
+After ten minutes of it, Allan picked up his sweater and followed
+Hooker down the track to report to Kernahan. The football men had
+taken possession of the gridiron by this time, Long and others were
+practising at the high jump, and altogether the field looked very busy.
+
+"You and Ware try three laps," said the trainer to Hooker. "Watch your
+form, now, and never mind about your time. I'll attend to that for you.
+Take turn about at the pacing; you take the first lap, Hooker. Want to
+get into this, Larry?"
+
+Rindgely nodded and peeled off his sweater. The others had to trot
+about for a minute or two while Rindgely stretched his muscles. Then
+the three got on to the mark, Billy gave the word, and they started
+off at an easy pace, Hooker in the lead, Allan next, and Rindgely in
+the rear. All three hugged the rim of the track and settled down into
+their pace. On the back-stretch they had to slow down once to avoid a
+group of football substitutes who were crossing the cinders, and once
+Rindgely was forced to leap over a ball that came bouncing out onto the
+track, and was much incensed about it. Hooker's pace was wonderfully
+steady, but Allan thought it rather slow. At the mark Billy told them
+to "hit it up a bit now," and Hooker slowed down, letting Allan into
+the lead.
+
+Allan increased the pace considerably. This time there were no
+interruptions, and they neared the end of the second lap fresh and
+untired. Kernahan glanced up from his watch as they sped by.
+
+"All right!" he shouted. "Get up there, Larry, and hold that pace."
+
+Rindgely took the lead. As they commenced the turn Allan's gaze,
+wandering a second from the front, lighted upon a tall, wide-shouldered
+and somewhat uncouth figure at the edge of the track. Strange to say,
+the figure nodded its head at him and waved a hand, and as Allan went
+by there came a stentorian cry of encouragement that might have been
+heard half across the field:
+
+"Chase 'em down, Freshman! Give 'em fits!"
+
+Allan bit his lips angrily as he sped on. What business had that big
+chump yelling at him like that when he didn't even know him? Pretty
+fresh, that's what it was! Allan hadn't made the acquaintances of so
+many fellows but that he could remember them, and he was quite sure
+that he had never met the big chap who had yelled. But at the same
+time there had been something familiar about the fellow's voice--too
+familiar, thought Allan with a grudging smile--and he wondered who he
+might be and why he had singled him out for his unwelcome attentions.
+Then the incident passed for the time out of his mind, for the last
+turn was almost at hand and Rindgely was increasing the pace.
+
+Allan began to feel it at the turn, and when they swung into the
+home-stretch and the pace, instead of settling down to a steady finish,
+grew faster and faster, he came to the unwelcome conclusion that he
+was not in the same class with the other two. Rindgely, in spite of
+all Allan could do, lengthened the space between them. Hooker, seeing
+that Allan was out of it, passed him fifty yards from the mark and
+strove to overhaul the leader. But Rindgely was never headed, and
+finished several yards in front of Hooker and at least thirty ahead of
+Allan. When they turned and jogged back to the trainer, the latter was
+slipping his watch into his pocket.
+
+"What's the good of doing that, Larry?" he asked, disgustedly. "That
+wasn't a race."
+
+"Oh, I just wanted to liven it up a bit," answered Rindgely, grinning.
+"What time did I make, Billy?"
+
+"I didn't take you," answered the trainer, shortly. "That's enough for
+to-day."
+
+Allan turned away with the others, but Billy called him back.
+
+"What was the matter?" he asked. "Pace too hot for you?"
+
+"I suppose so; I couldn't stand that spurt."
+
+"Well, that was some of Larry's nonsense; he'd no business cutting up
+tricks." He was silent a moment, looking across to where the second
+eleven was trying vainly to keep the varsity from pushing over her
+goal-line. Then, "Ever try the two miles?" he asked. Allan shook his
+head.
+
+"I don't believe I'd be any good at it," he answered. "Not that I'm
+any good at the mile, either," he added, somewhat discouraged at the
+outcome of the trial.
+
+"What's the best you ever did at the mile?"
+
+"About four minutes forty-five seconds."
+
+"You did it inside of forty, Friday."
+
+"I did?" Allan looked his surprise. "Oh, but I ran a hundred and twenty
+yards short."
+
+"I allowed for that," answered Billy, quietly. "Now, look here,
+Ware; you've got it in you all right, but you don't make the most of
+yourself. You let your feet drag back badly, and you've been trying
+after too long a stride. You make that shorter by six inches and you'll
+cut off another second after a while. And to-morrow I'll show you what
+I mean about the stride. There's plenty of time before the dual meet
+in the spring, and by then we'll have you doing things right. The only
+thing is," he added, thoughtfully, "whether you wouldn't do better at
+the two miles. What do you think?"
+
+"I really don't know," answered Allan, doubtfully, "but I'd like to try
+it."
+
+"Well, there's lots of time. The indoor meet in Boston comes along in
+February; we'll have you in shape for that, and you can go in for the
+mile and the two miles. Meanwhile, you'd better come out with the other
+men while the decent weather lasts."
+
+"Do you think I can make the team?" Allan asked, hopefully.
+
+"Easy; but they don't take new men on till after the trials in the
+spring."
+
+"Oh!" said Allan, a trifle disappointed.
+
+"Don't let that bother you," advised the trainer. "You're as good as
+on it now. You make the most of the fall training, Ware, and keep fit
+during the winter. I'd go in for hockey or something. Ever play hockey?"
+
+"Yes, but I can't skate well enough."
+
+"Well, get plenty of outdoor exercise of some sort this winter; don't
+let the weather keep you indoors."
+
+"All right, I'll remember." Allan's gaze wandered toward the locker
+building. Half-way across the field a big figure was ambling toward the
+gate, hands in pockets. Allan turned quickly to the trainer. "Do you
+know who that fellow is?" Kernahan's gaze followed his. After a moment:
+
+"That's a freshman named Burley. Know him?"
+
+"No; I just wondered who he was," Allan replied.
+
+"And I don't want to know him," he muttered, irritably, as he trotted
+off to the locker house.
+
+But Fate seldom consults our inclinations.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+HAL HAS AN IDEA
+
+
+It seemed to Allan during the next few days that the bulky form of
+Peter Burley was bent upon haunting him. On Tuesday morning, in
+English, he was aware of Burley's presence a few rows behind him;
+when he looked around, it was to encounter the big fellow's smiling
+regard. There was really nothing offensive in that smile; it was merely
+one of intense friendliness, quite unconventional in its intensity,
+but it irritated Allan greatly. Why couldn't Burley let him alone?
+Just because he had kept him from falling and lugged him to the
+dressing-tent, he seemed to have an idea that Allan was his especial
+property. And then the cheek of scrawling his silly name on a fellow's
+door! And yelling like a three-ply idiot at the track!
+
+Perhaps the fact that Burley, whoever and whatever he was, was markedly
+popular rather increased Allan's prejudice. Wherever Burley sat in
+class there was invariably a good deal of subdued noise and laughter,
+and when he left the hall it was always as the center of a small
+circle of fellows, above which Burley towered head and shoulders.
+Secretly, Allan envied Burley's success with his fellows, but in
+conversation with Smiths he dubbed Burley a mountebank. Hal was visibly
+impressed with the word and used it unflaggingly the rest of the year.
+
+Wednesday, Burley was again on the field, but this time he made no
+remarks as Allan passed him on the track; merely smiled and nodded with
+his offensive familiarity and then turned his attention to the football
+practise. As usual, he was the center of a group, and after Allan had
+passed the turn he heard their laughter and wondered if Burley had
+selected him as a butt for his silly jokes. After that Allan saw him
+at least once a day until on the following Wednesday night, when the
+freshman election took place in Grace Hall, and Burley leaped into even
+greater, and to Allan more offensive, prominence.
+
+There were two leading candidates for the presidency, and, contrary
+to the usual custom, the opposing forces had failed to arrange a
+compromise and a distribution of offices. The contest was prolonged
+and exciting. On the ninth ballot, Mordaunt, a St. Mathias fellow, won
+amidst the howls of the opposition. The rival candidate was elected
+secretary, but promptly and somewhat heatedly declined. New nominations
+were called for, and Burley was proposed simultaneously from two
+sides of the room. His name met with loud applause. Burley, sitting
+unconcernedly near the door, grinned his appreciation of the joke. Two
+other names were offered, and then the balloting began. On the first
+ballot, Peter Burley, of Blackwater, Col., was elected.
+
+Burley tried to get on to his feet to refuse the honor, but owing to
+the fact that three companions held him down while the chairman rapped
+wildly for order, he failed to gain recognition. The next moment the
+election was made unanimous. Allan grunted his disapproval. Hal said it
+didn't much matter who was secretary; anybody could be that.
+
+Hal accompanied Allan back to the latter's room and stayed until late,
+talking most of the time about his chances of making the varsity squad,
+what he was going to do if he didn't, and how he didn't give a rap
+anyway.
+
+"Of course, I can make the freshman team all right, but what's that?
+They have only four outside games scheduled, and two of those don't
+amount to anything; just high schools. The only game they go away for
+is the one with Dexter. And this thing of working hard for a month to
+play the Robinson freshmen isn't what it's cracked up to be."
+
+"Who will win?" asked Allan, suppressing a yawn.
+
+"That's the trouble. It's more'n likely that Robinson will. We've got
+a lot of good men--fast backs and a mighty brainy little quarter--but
+we haven't got any support for our center. Cheesman's a wonder, but he
+can't do much with guards like Murray and Kirk beside him. Why, Kirk
+doesn't weigh a hundred and seventy, and Murray's only a hundred and
+eighty-something. Poor is going to issue another call for candidates;
+he's going to ask every man of a hundred and seventy-five or over to
+come out. Say!"
+
+Hal sat up suddenly in the Morris chair and looked like a Great
+Discoverer.
+
+"Say what?" murmured Allan, drowsily.
+
+"What's the matter with that man Burley?"
+
+"A good deal, I should say, if you ask me," answered Allan.
+
+"I mean for a guard," said Smiths, impatiently.
+
+"He probably never saw a football," objected Allan. "They don't play it
+out West, do they?"
+
+"Don't they, though! Look at Michigan and Wisconsin and--and the rest
+of them!"
+
+"I refuse."
+
+"Why, Burley's just the man! He must weigh two hundred if he weighs a
+pound!"
+
+"Looks as though he might weigh a ton. But if he doesn't know the
+game----"
+
+"How do you know he doesn't?"
+
+"I don't. But if he did know it, wouldn't he have been out before this?"
+
+Smiths was silenced for a moment.
+
+"Well, even if he doesn't know it, he can be taught, I guess. And we've
+got a whole lot of science now; what we need is beef."
+
+"Burley looks more like an ass than a cow," said Allan, disagreeably.
+Smiths stared.
+
+"Say, what's he done to you, anyway? You seem to be beastly sore on
+him."
+
+"I've told you what he's done."
+
+"Oh, that! Besides, he lugged you off the track; that's nothing to get
+mad about, is it?"
+
+"I suppose not; I'm not mad about that--or anything else. He just--just
+makes me tired."
+
+"Well, I'll bet he's our man." Smiths jumped up and seized his cap.
+"I'll run over and tell Poor."
+
+"What, at this time of night?"
+
+"Pshaw! it's only eleven-thirty. He'll be glad to know about it."
+
+"He'll probably pitch you down-stairs, and serve you right."
+
+"Not much he won't. Good night."
+
+"Good night," answered Allan. "I've got some surgeon's plaster, if you
+need it."
+
+Hal Smiths slammed the door and took the front porch in one leap. Then
+the gate crashed. Allan listened intently.
+
+"That's funny!" he muttered. "He must have missed the lamp-post!"
+
+He took up a book, found a pencil, and opened the table-drawer in
+search of a pad. As he did so, his eyes fell on a folded sheet of lined
+paper. He read the penciled words on it--"Peter Burley"--and, refolding
+it after a moment of indecision, tucked it back in a corner of the
+drawer, frowning deeply the while.
+
+Allan didn't see Hal the next day; neither was the objectionable Burley
+visible on the field in the afternoon when Allan ran his first practise
+over the mile. Kernahan didn't hold the watch on him, the distance was
+unfamiliar to him, and he lost all idea of his time after the fourth
+lap, and ended pretty well tuckered out.
+
+"All right," said the trainer, when it was over. "You ran it a bit too
+fast at the start. But you'll get onto it after a while."
+
+On Friday Allan saw Hal only for an instant and had no chance to
+question him as to the result of his midnight visit to the freshman
+football captain. Consequently, it was not until Saturday that
+he learned of Burley's appearance on the field as a candidate for
+admission into the freshman team. There was no track work that
+afternoon, since the Erskine varsity played State University. Allan
+went out to the field alone and watched the game from the season-ticket
+holders' stand, and cheered quite madly when the Erskine quarter-back,
+availing himself for the first time of the new rules, seemed to pass
+the ball to a trio of plunging backs, and after an instant of delay set
+off almost alone around State's left end with the pigskin cuddled in
+his arm, and flew down the field for over seventy yards to a touch-down.
+
+That settled the score for the first half, and the teams trotted off
+with honors even. There was a good deal of dissatisfaction expressed in
+Allan's neighborhood over the playing of the home team, and much gloomy
+prophecy was indulged in in regard to the outcome of the final and
+most important game of the season--that with Erskine's old-time rival,
+Robinson University.
+
+About the middle of the intermission, Allan heard his name called, and
+looked down to see a small, sandy-haired fellow waving a note-book
+at him. Allan waved back, and the owner of the note-book--the latter
+his never-absent badge of office--climbed up the seats and was duly
+pummeled and laid hold of on his way. Tommy Sweet was a Hillton
+fellow, and considering that he had been a class ahead of Allan at
+that school, the two had been quite friendly there until Sweet had
+gone up to Erskine. So far Allan had not seen much of him, for Tommy
+was "on the Purple," as he liked to put it, and was an extremely busy
+youth. Tommy's friends declared he would find something to do if he was
+strapped in bed.
+
+The key-note of Tommy was eagerness. His wide-open blue eyes were
+always staring about the world in search for something to engage his
+attention, and his ridiculously small mouth was forever pursed into
+something between a grin and an exclamation-point. His hair was just
+the color of tow, and the freckles which covered every available
+portion of his face were several shades darker, but harmonized
+perfectly. He was tireless in the search for news for the Purple, and
+when it came to activity would have made the proverbial ant or beaver
+look like a sluggard. Tommy thought sleep a criminal waste of time, and
+even begrudged the moments spent in eating.
+
+Tommy was only perfectly happy when doing four things at once; less
+than four left him dull and dissatisfied. Clarke Mason once said:
+"I'll bet some day Tommy will commit second-degree murder so they'll
+give him hard labor for life." For the rest he was a cheerful, likable
+fellow, aggressively honest and painfully conscientious.
+
+"What did you think of that run of Cutler's?" he asked, breathlessly,
+as he sank onto the seat at Allan's side. "Peach, wasn't it? It'll
+show up great in the diagram I'm making; see!" He opened his note-book
+and exhibited a puzzling maze of lines and dots, figures and letters.
+"That's the first half. Everything's there--runs, kicks, plunges,
+penalties, the whole show."
+
+"What's it for?" asked Allan. "Anything to do with geometry?"
+
+"Why, no; it's-- Oh, quit your kidding! It's to go with my report of
+the game. It shows how the gains were made and who made 'em. And I've
+introduced something new in diagrams, too. See these figures along the
+edge here--4:17, 4:22, and so on?"
+
+"Well, I see something there, I think," answered Allan, cautiously.
+
+"Those signify the time each play was made," said Tommy, triumphantly.
+"That's never been done before, you know."
+
+"I see. But it must keep you pretty busy. Do you have to write the game
+up, too?"
+
+"Oh, yes." Tommy showed three or four pages of awful-looking scrawls
+from a fountain-pen. "That's done in a sort of shorthand, and I write
+it out full length at the office. Say, where did you tell me your
+room was? I meant to put it down, but forgot it. Purdy's? Oh, yes; I
+know where that is. I want to come around some evening, if I can ever
+find the time. How are you getting on? Anything I can do for you? Any
+fellows you'd like to meet? No? Well, let me know if I can do anything
+for you. Very glad to, you know. That was quite a race you made the
+other day. Billy seems to have taken a fancy to you, doesn't he? He's
+all right, Allan; you shine up to him and-- Hello! there's a fellow I
+want to see. Come and see me, will you? Twenty-two Sesson, you know. So
+long, old chap!"
+
+Tommy hurried pell-mell down the stand, shaking off detaining hands,
+and disappeared into the throng. Allan took a long breath; he felt as
+though a small hurricane had been playing with him. The teams came onto
+the field again and the second half began. It proved uninteresting,
+and only the superior weight of the Erskine eleven won them the game
+finally by the close margin of a safety. Allan followed the throng out
+of the enclosure and across toward the locker house and the gate. But
+half-way there the crowd divided, and Allan presently found himself
+looking on at the practise of the freshman teams. The first team had
+the ball on the second's five-yard line and was trying very hard
+to put it over to an accompaniment of command and entreaty from the
+coaches.
+
+"Third down and two to go!" some one shouted. A shrill voice called a
+jumble of figures and a tandem slid forward at a tangent, and for an
+instant confusion reigned. Then suddenly a roar of laughter went up,
+the line of watchers broke forward, and Allan found himself directly
+in the path of what at first glance looked like an avalanche of canvas
+and leather. Springing back, he escaped being borne along by the
+group of struggling players, in the center of which, rising like a
+city sky-scraper out of a huddle of shanties, stood forth, calm and
+determined, the countenance of Peter Burley.
+
+In his arms, struggling but helpless, was the first eleven's left
+half-back, and to his back and legs and, in short, to every portion
+of his anatomy, hung the enemy, for all the world like bees on a nest
+in swarming time. Behind them the second eleven pushed and shoved,
+and relentlessly the whole mass moved down the field. And somewhere,
+drowned by the laughter of the spectators and the despairing shrieks of
+"Down! Down!" from the abducted half-back, sounded feebly the referee's
+whistle.
+
+One by one the impeditive players dropped away, and Burley's
+triumphant advance toward the enemy's goal was stopped by the referee
+and two coaches. Burley set down the half-back, in whose arms the
+pigskin was still clutched, but did not release his grasp until his
+obligations were hurriedly but clearly explained to him. Then he patted
+the half-back on the shoulder in a paternal manner and retraced his
+steps to the enthusiastic applause of the convulsed throng. The second
+team hugged as much of him as they could encompass and he smiled
+cheerfully, but was evidently still somewhat perplexed. The ball went
+to the second on her eight yards and the game continued, Burley, at
+right guard, looming head and shoulders above his companions.
+
+Allan watched the game for a few moments longer, and then continued his
+journey. Somehow the calm, inscrutable manner in which the big freshman
+had strode down the field in unquestioning obedience to what he had
+supposed to be his duty appealed to Allan. It had been awfully funny,
+and Allan smiled as he recalled it. But the incident had held for him
+something more than humor, just what he hardly knew; but whatever it
+was, and even though he would have found it difficult to give a name to
+it, it completely changed his feeling toward Burley. By the time he had
+reached Mrs. Purdy's front gate, he was wondering whether Burley still
+desired his acquaintance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+"MR. PETER BURLEY, BLACKWATER, COL."
+
+
+Hal Smiths dropped in after dinner that evening and Allan brought the
+conversation around to the subject of Burley, whose performance during
+practise had been the chief topic at the dinner-table.
+
+"Why, Poor was awfully pleased at my suggestion," said Hal, "after I
+found him. It was after twelve then, and I'd chased half over college
+looking for him. He said he wasn't very good at persuasion and thought
+Burley would require lots of it; so he asked me to see him. Poor's a
+pretty good little chap, so I went. Burley was awfully decent. Said he
+had never played and had never even seen the game until he came here;
+said he hadn't been able to find out what it was all about, but that if
+we wanted him to try it, why, of course, he would. Said he thought it
+looked like pretty good fun, and got me to sort of explain it a bit.
+One thing he wanted to know," laughed Hal, "was whether you could hit a
+man if he didn't have the ball."
+
+"Well, he played it for all it was worth this afternoon," said Allan,
+smiling. "You heard about it, didn't you?"
+
+"No; what was it? I sat on the side line all afternoon, and waited to
+get a whack at State University. What did Burley do?"
+
+So Allan told him, and Hal laughed until the tears came.
+
+"Oh, he's a genius, he is!" he said.
+
+After a minute of chuckling, he went on:
+
+"Look here, Allan, I think you'd rather like him if you got to know
+him. He's--he's rather a decent sort, after all. I didn't take to him
+at first, of course, but--and I don't say now that he's the sort of
+chap you'd want to ask home and introduce to your people; he's kind of
+free and easy, and you couldn't be sure he wouldn't drink the catsup
+out of the bottle or slap your governor on the back--but he's--well,
+there's something about him you can't help liking," he ended, with an
+apologetic tone.
+
+"Maybe I would," answered Allan, pleasantly. Hal looked surprised.
+
+"He's given up the class secretaryship, you know," he announced.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"I don't know for sure, but Poor says he told him it was because he
+didn't think he'd be here much after the holidays."
+
+"Where's he going?" asked Allan.
+
+"Don't know. Funny idea, to come to college for half a year. Maybe----"
+
+There were footsteps on the porch, the front portal opened with a
+crash, and an imperative knock sounded on the room door. Allan jumped
+to his feet. Could it be fire? he wondered, shooting a bewildered
+glance at Hal. He hurried to the door just as the hammering began
+again, more violently than before. Hal raised himself uneasily from the
+Morris chair, prepared for the worst. Allan called, "_Come in!_" and
+the door was flung open.
+
+Entered Tommy Sweet!
+
+"You thundering idiot!" bawled Hal. "I thought it was at least the
+Dean! You can make more-- Hello, Burley! Glad to see you."
+
+"This is Mr. Burley, Allan," Tommy was saying. "Brought him around
+'cause I wanted you to know each other. Mr. Ware--Mr. Burley."
+
+Allan felt his hand enveloped in something large and warm and
+vise-like. He felt his fingers crushed together, thought he could hear
+the bones breaking--and still managed to smile painfully, but politely,
+the while. Then Burley had dropped his hand and was saying:
+
+"I've wanted to know you ever since I saw you win that running race
+the other day. Came around here and left a card on you, but I guess you
+didn't find it."
+
+Allan murmured his appreciation, but remained silent as to the "card."
+
+"I told Sweet here that you'd win that race. Offered to bet him
+anything he liked. He wouldn't bet, though." Peter Burley took the
+chair proffered by Hal and carefully lowered himself into it.
+
+"They told me you carried me over to the tent," said Allan. "Much
+obliged, I'm sure."
+
+"Welcome," answered the other, heartily. "You didn't weigh anything to
+mention."
+
+"Not as heavy as the freshman team, eh?" asked Tommy. Burley looked
+apologetically around the circle.
+
+"I suppose every one's heard of that fool thing?" he asked.
+
+"Just about every one, I guess," laughed Tommy.
+
+"That comes of trying to do something you don't know how to do. This
+fellow Smiths here came around to my shack the other day and said the
+class wanted me to play football because I weigh some. Well, ginger! I
+didn't know anything about the thing, and I told him so. But he would
+have it that I must play. And look what happens! I make a measly show
+of myself right out there on the range in front of the whole outfit!"
+
+"No harm done," said Hal. "You did what you tried to."
+
+"No, I didn't. There was a little cuss there in a Derby hat wouldn't
+let me. I was going to take that half-backed fellow down to the other
+end and throw him over the line. That's what I was going to do. They
+didn't tell me I had to slap him on the chest and butt him with my
+head."
+
+"But, you see," explained Allan, "he called 'Down' just when you began
+to lug him off."
+
+"That's what they said. I was supposed to let go of him when he said
+that, but I just thought he was throwing up the sponge and wanted me to
+let him down. If I'd known he could have spoiled it by yelling 'Down,'
+I'd have held his mouth shut."
+
+This summoned laughter, and Burley glanced around at the others in
+wide surprise. Allan felt surprise, too. Was Burley really quite
+so unsophisticated as he seemed, he wondered, or-- His glance met
+Burley's. The big fellow's right eyelid dropped slowly in a portentous
+wink. Allan smiled. His question was answered. While the others entered
+into an explanation and discussion of the rules and ethics of football,
+Allan studied the Westerner.
+
+Peter Burley looked to be, and was, twenty years of age. In form he was
+remarkably large; he was an inch over six feet tall, and weighed 203
+pounds. Nowhere about him was there evidence of unnecessary fat, but
+he was deep of chest and wide of shoulder and hips. His hands and feet
+were large, and the latter were encased in enormously heavy shoes.
+
+When it came to features, Burley was undeniably good-looking in a
+certain breezy, unconventional way. (Allan soon found that Burley's
+breeziness and absence of convention were not confined to his looks.)
+Burley's hair was brown, of no particular shade, and his eyes matched
+his hair. His nose was big and straight and his mouth well shaped. His
+cheeks were deeply tanned, but showed little color beneath. His usual
+expression was one of careless, whimsical good nature, but there was an
+earnest and kindly gleam in the brown eyes that lent character to the
+face. He talked with a drawl, and pronounced many words in a way quite
+novel to Allan. But--and this Allan discovered later--when occasion
+required, he was capable of delivering his remarks in a sharp, incisive
+way that made the words sound like rifle-shots. At the present moment
+he was talking with almost exaggerated deliberateness.
+
+"Sweet says you and he went to a preparatory school together," he said,
+turning to Allan. "I wish my old man had sent me to one of those
+things. What was your school like?"
+
+Allan told him of Hillton, and Tommy and Hal chimed in from time to
+time and helped him along. It was a large subject and one they liked,
+and half an hour passed before they had finished. Burley listened with
+evident interest, and only interrupted occasionally to ask a question.
+
+"How'd you happen to come to Erskine?" asked Tommy, when the subject
+had been exhausted. Burley took one big knee into his hands and
+considered the question for a moment in silence.
+
+"Well, I'll tell you," he said at last. "You see, I had a go at
+the university over in Boulder; that's near Denver," he explained,
+parenthetically. "But we didn't get on very well together, the faculty
+and me, and I was always turning up at the ranch. Well, the old man got
+tired of seeing me around so much; said he'd paid for my keep at the
+university, and I'd ought to stay there and get even with the game.
+But, ginger! the corral wasn't big enough. Every time I'd try to be
+good, something would come along and happen, and--first thing I knew,
+I'd be roaming at large again. So the old man said he guessed what I
+needed was to get far enough away from home so I wouldn't back-trail
+so often; said there wasn't much doing when I went to college Monday
+morning and showed up for feed Thursday night. First he tried taking my
+railroad pass away; but when I couldn't scare up the money, I rode home
+on a freight. I got to know the train crews on the D. & R. G. pretty
+well long toward spring. When vacation came, we all agreed to call
+it off--the faculty and the old man and me. So I went up to Rico and
+fooled around a mine there all summer. When----"
+
+"What was the name of the mine?" asked Allan, eagerly.
+
+"This one was the Indian Girl. There's lots of 'em thereabouts. The old
+man----"
+
+"Say, is the 'old man' your father?" asked Tommy.
+
+"Yes; why?"
+
+"Nothing, only I should think he'd lick you if he heard you calling him
+that."
+
+"Oh, he doesn't mind. Besides, he isn't really old; only about forty.
+He calls me Kid, too," he added, smiling broadly. "Well, in the summer
+he wanted to know where I'd rather go to college--Yale, Harvard,
+Princeton, Pennsylvania; he said he didn't care so long as it was
+far enough away to keep me from diggin' out for home every week and
+presenting myself with vacations not down on the calendar. Well, there
+was a fellow up at the mine named Thompson; he was superintendent.
+I was helping him--or thought I was--and so we got to be pretty good
+friends. He was a nice little fellow, about as high as a sage-bush, and
+as plucky as a bulldog. Well, he went to college here about ten years
+ago, and he used to tell me a good deal about the place. So, when the
+old man said, 'Which is it?' I told him Erskine. He said he'd never
+heard tell of it, but so long as it was about two thousand miles from
+Blackwater he guessed it would do. And that's how. Now you talk."
+
+"That's the first time I ever heard of choosing a college because it
+was a long way from home," laughed Hal. "I'd like to meet that father
+of yours."
+
+"Better go back with me Christmas," said Burley. Hal stared at him
+doubtfully, undecided whether to laugh or not. "Of course," continued
+Burley, carelessly, "we haven't got much out there. It's pretty much
+all alfalfa and sage-bush around Blackwater. But the hills aren't far,
+and there's good hunting up toward Routt. You fellows all better come;
+the old man would be pleased to have you."
+
+Hal stared wide-eyed.
+
+"Aren't you fooling?" he gasped.
+
+"Fooling?" Burley echoed. "Why, no, I ain't fooling. What's wrong?"
+
+"Nothing; but of course we couldn't do it, you know; at least, I'm
+plumb sure I couldn't." Hal looked doubtfully at the others.
+
+"Nor I," said Allan. "I only wish I could."
+
+"Same here," said Tommy, wistfully. "I'd give a heap to have the
+chance."
+
+"Sorry," answered Burley. "Perhaps in the summer, or some other time,
+when you haven't got anything better. I suppose your folks want you at
+home Christmas?"
+
+"Y-yes," replied Hal, "but it isn't altogether that; there's the
+expense, you see."
+
+"Oh, it wouldn't cost you anything much," said Burley. "It's all on me.
+You'd better say you'll come."
+
+Hal's eyes opened wider than before.
+
+"You mean you'd pay our fares--all our fares--out to Colorado and
+back?" he asked.
+
+"Sure. We'd only have about a week out there, but we could do a lot of
+damage in a week."
+
+Hal was silent from amazement. Allan stammered his thanks. Tommy merely
+sat and stared at Burley, as though fascinated. The latter translated
+silence into assent.
+
+"Well, we'll call it fixed, eh?" he asked, heartily.
+
+"Thunder, no!" exploded Hal. "We couldn't do that, Burley. We're
+awfully much obliged, but, of course, if we went out there to visit
+you, we'd pay our own way. And I don't believe any of us could do
+that--this Christmas, at least."
+
+"Oh, be good!" said Burley. "Now, look here; I'd let you do that much
+for me."
+
+"But we couldn't," said Allan.
+
+"Well, you would if you could, of course; wouldn't you, now?"
+
+"Why--er--I suppose we would," Allan faltered.
+
+"Well, there you are!" said Burley, triumphantly. "That settles it."
+
+It took the others some time to prove to him that it didn't settle it,
+and Burley listened with polite, but disapproving, attention. When the
+argument was concluded, he shook his head sorrowfully.
+
+"You're a lot of Indians!" he said. "You're not doing the square thing
+by me, and I'm going to pull my freight." He drew himself out of the
+chair and rescued his big felt hat from beneath it. There was a general
+pushing back of chairs. "You and Mr. Ware must come around to my tepee
+some night soon," Burley told Hal, "and we'll have another pow-wow.
+Seems like I'd done all the chinning to-night." He shook hands with
+Allan, who strove to bear the pain with fortitude and only grimaced
+once, and said in quite a matter-of-fact way, "I guess you and I are
+going to be partners. Good night."
+
+Allan muttered that he hoped so, and after the three visitors had taken
+their departures he examined his hand under the light to see if bruises
+or dislocations were visible.
+
+"I wonder," he asked himself, with a rueful smile, "if he shakes hands
+very often with his partners?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+"RIGHT GUARD BACK!"
+
+
+November started in with an Indian summer, but by the middle of the
+month the spell had broken, and a week of hard, driving rain succeeded
+the bright weather. Until then Allan had spent almost every afternoon
+on the cinder-track, running the half mile at good speed, doing the
+mile and a half inside his time, occasionally practising sprinting,
+and, once a week, jogging around until he had left nine laps behind him
+and had covered a quarter of a mile over his distance.
+
+For by this time Kernahan had decided that the two-mile event was what
+he was cut out for, but promised him, nevertheless, that at the indoor
+athletic meeting, in February, he should be allowed to try both the
+mile and the two miles. The trainer's instruction had already bettered
+Allan's form; his stride had lost in length and gained in speed and
+grace until it became a subject for admiring comment among the fellows.
+
+The Purple, in an article on Fall Work of the Track Team Candidates,
+hailed "Ware '07" as "a most promising runner, and one who has
+improved rapidly in form since the Fall Handicaps until at present he
+easily leads the distance men in that feature. It is Mr. Kernahan's
+intention," concluded the Purple, "to develop Ware as a two-miler,
+since this year, as in several years past, there is a dearth of
+first-class material for this distance."
+
+But the rains put an end to the track work, as they put an end to all
+outdoor activities save football, and training was practically dropped
+by the candidates. On three occasions, when the clouds temporarily
+ceased emptying themselves onto a sodden earth, the middle and long
+distance candidates were sent on cross-country jogs and straggled home
+at dusk, very wet and muddy, and much out of temper. A week before
+Thanksgiving the sky became less gloomy and a sharp frost froze the
+earth till it rang like metal underfoot.
+
+It was on one such day, a Saturday, that the Robinson freshman football
+team came to town and, headed by a brass band, marched out to the
+field to do battle with the Erskine youngsters. The varsity team had
+journeyed from home to play Artmouth, and consequently the freshman
+contest drew the entire college and town, and enthusiasm reigned
+supreme in spite of the fact that a Robinson victory was acknowledged
+to be a foregone conclusion.
+
+Allan and Tommy Sweet watched the game from the side lines; Tommy, with
+note-book in hand, darting hither and thither from one point of vantage
+to another, and Allan vainly striving to keep up with him. The latter
+had gained admission beyond the ropes by posing as Tommy's assistant;
+the assistance rendered consisted principally of listening to Tommy's
+breathless comment on the game.
+
+"Oh, rotten!" Tommy would snarl. "Two yards more!... Oh; perfectly
+rotten!... See that pass? See it? What? Eh, what?... Now, watch this!
+Watch-- What'd I say? Good work, Seven!... Now, that's playing!...
+Third down and one to-- What's that? Lost it? Lost nothing! Why,
+look where the ball is! How can they have lost-- Hey! how's that for
+off-side? Just watch that Robinson left end; look! See that?... Three
+yards right through the center! What was Burley doing?... Well, here
+goes for a touch-down. There's no help now!... Another yard!... Two
+more!... Did they make it? Did they?... _Hi-i-i! Our ball!_"
+
+It was a very pretty game, after all, and when the first half ended
+with the score only 5 to 0, in the visitors' favor, Erskine's hope
+revived, and during the intermission there was much talk of tying
+the score, while some few extremely optimistic watchers hinted at
+an Erskine victory. Considering the fact that the purple-clad team
+was twelve pounds lighter than its opponent, this was a good deal to
+expect, and Tommy, a fair example of conservative opinion, declared
+that the best he looked for was to have the second half end with
+the score as it then stood. But a good many guesses went wrong that
+afternoon.
+
+Erskine had played on the defensive during the first half, and when,
+after receiving Robinson's kick-off, she punted the ball without trying
+to run it back, it seemed that she was continuing her former tactics.
+The punt was a good one and was caught on Robinson's thirty-yard line.
+The Brown accepted the challenge and returned the kick. It went to
+Erskine's forty-five yards. Again Poor punted, and the ball sailed down
+to the Brown's fifteen yards, where it was gathered into a half-back's
+arms. Erskine had gained largely in the two exchanges of punts, and her
+supporters cheered loudly, while Robinson, realizing discretion to be
+the better part of valor, refrained from further kicking and ran the
+ball back ten yards before she was downed.
+
+And then, as in the first period of play, she began to advance the
+pigskin by fierce plunges at the Erskine line. But now there was a
+perceptible difference in results, a difference recognized by the
+spectators after the first two attacks. Robinson wasn't making much
+headway. Twice she barely made her distance; the third time she failed
+by six inches and, amidst cheering plainly heard on the campus, Erskine
+took the ball on her opponent's twenty-five yards. The first plunge
+netted a bare yard, yet it carried the ball out of the checker-board,
+and a line-man dropped back. Tommy set up a shout.
+
+"It's Burley! They're going to play him back of the line!"
+
+There was no doubt about it's being Burley. He loomed far above the
+rest of the backs, and even when, his hands on the full-back's hips, he
+doubled himself up for the charge, he was still the biggest object on
+the field. The stands danced with delight.
+
+So far there had been no hint of the big right guard taking part in the
+tandem attacks; in fact, his presence on the team was doubtful until
+the last moment, for Burley's development as a football player had been
+discouragingly slow, in spite of his weight and strength and cheerful
+willingness. Even yet he possessed only a partial understanding of the
+game. He did what he was told to do, and did it as hard as he knew
+how; that constituted the extent of his science. The stands composed
+themselves, and breathless suspense reigned. Poor's shrill pipe was
+heard reeling off the signals, and then--
+
+Then the advance began.
+
+Robinson had played hard every moment of the first thirty-five minutes,
+and she had played on the offensive. Erskine had played hard too, but
+her playing had been defensive. To attack is more tiring than to repel
+attack, and now what difference there was in condition was in Erskine's
+favor. Her defensive tactics were suddenly abandoned, and from that
+moment to the final whistle she forced the fighting every instant of
+the time.
+
+Peter Burley was, to use Tommy's broken, breathless words, "simply
+great." He knew little or nothing about line-plunging. He didn't do any
+of the things coaches instruct backs to do. He merely waded into and
+through the opponents, without bothering his head with the niceties
+of play. If the hole was there, well and good; he went through it and
+emerged on the other side with half the Robinson team clinging to
+him. If the hole wasn't there, well and good again; he went through
+just the same, only he didn't go so far. But there was always a good
+gain--sometimes a yard, sometimes two, sometimes three or four.
+
+When the whistle blew, Burley climbed to his feet and ambled back to
+his position, unruffled and unheeding of the bruises that fell to his
+share. Nine plunges brought the ball to Robinson's five yards. There
+the Brown line held for an instant. The first down netted a bare yard,
+the second brought scarcely as much. The cheering, which had been
+continuous from the first attack, died down, and a great silence fell.
+Tommy was nibbling the corner off his note-book, and Allan, kneeling
+beside him, was nervously biting his lip. Poor drew Burley and the
+backs aside for a whispered consultation. Then the players took their
+positions again, and--
+
+Presto! Erskine had scored!
+
+Without signals, the tandem had plunged onto the Robinson left tackle,
+Burley's leather head-guard had been seen for an instant tossing
+high above a struggling mass, and then had disappeared, and chaos
+had reigned until the referee's whistle commanded a cessation of
+hostilities. When the piled-up mass was removed, Burley was found
+serenely hugging the ball to his chest a yard over the line.
+
+While the stands cavorted and cheered, Poor kicked the goal. Erskine
+was already victorious, and Robinson's youngsters seemed to realize
+the fact. For, though they fought valiantly and doggedly for twenty
+minutes longer, it was evident that they no longer looked for victory.
+With every repulse their defense grew perceptibly weaker, while their
+rivals, as though they had husbanded their strength until now, made
+each attack fiercer than the one before, until in the last ten minutes
+of the contest they simply drove the Brown before them at will. Long
+before the game was at an end the stands began to empty; there was
+small pleasure in seeing a defeated enemy humbled. When the final
+whistle blew, the score stood 17 to 5, and Peter Burley, breathing hard
+through bleeding and swollen lips, said "he guessed he was ready to
+have his oats and be bedded down."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+"THE RANCH"
+
+
+It is human nature to dwell at length upon our successes and dismiss
+our failures with a word. The writer has given a chapter to the
+freshman game, but he is going to tell the story of the varsity
+contest, which occurred a week later, in a paragraph.
+
+Robinson won in a clean, hard-fought game--11 to 0. Her rival never
+approached a score in either half, but by the grimmest sort of
+defensive work she managed to keep the final figures down to half of
+what they might have been had she gone to pieces for an instant. Hal
+played a brilliant game at full-back in that contest, and proved his
+right to the position. Thus the football season at Erskine ended in
+decisive defeat. It was an honorable defeat, to be sure; but, since at
+Erskine, as at other colleges in this country, they play more for the
+sake of winning than for love of the game, there were doleful faces
+a-plenty, and on Sunday the college had the appearance of a place
+smitten with the plague.
+
+But Monday morning came and brought recitations and lectures, just as
+though there was no such thing as football, and the college settled
+back into the usual routine. At noon the sting of defeat was forgotten.
+At night, fellows were cheerfully discussing the chances for the next
+year. If we take defeat too hard, at least we recover quickly; there is
+hope for us in that.
+
+Allan, for all that he was quite as patriotic as any, felt the defeat
+of the varsity team less than he did the cessation of track work. The
+latter left him at first feeling like a fish out of water. Tommy Sweet
+suggested that he might rig up a treadmill in his room and run to his
+heart's content, like a squirrel in a wire cage. But Tommy wouldn't
+promise to feed him all the peanuts he could eat, and so Allan refused
+to try the scheme. Instead, he spent much of his time out-of-doors and
+took long walks and runs out along the river or struck off westward to
+Millport.
+
+On many of these excursions he was accompanied by Peter Burley.
+Peter--or more properly Pete, since that was the name he declared to
+be the proper one--Pete couldn't be persuaded to do any running, but
+he was willing to walk any distance and in any direction, seeming to
+care very little whether he ever got back to Centerport or didn't. And
+as his long legs took him over the ground about as fast as Allan could
+jog, the latter never suffered for want of exercise while in Pete's
+company.
+
+The friendship between the two had grown rapidly, until now Pete's
+prophecy that they were to be "partners" had come true. The more
+Allan saw of the older boy the more he found to like, but just what
+the qualities were which drew him to Pete he would have found it hard
+to tell. The latter's never-failing good-nature was undoubtedly one
+of them, but that alone was not accountable. Perhaps Pete would have
+experienced quite as much difficulty had he been called upon to say why
+he had been attracted by Allan the first time he had seen him, or why
+he had perseveringly sought his friendship ever since. The two were
+radically dissimilar, but even that isn't sufficient to explain why
+each was attracted toward the other. Come to think of it, however, I
+don't believe either Allan or Pete troubled himself about the problem,
+and so why should we?
+
+Pete's sudden leap into fame consequent upon his work against Robinson
+in the freshman game had left him unaffected. He had become a college
+hero in an hour, but none could see that it ever made any difference
+to him. He brushed congratulation aside good-naturedly and ridiculed
+praise.
+
+"Stop your fool talk!" he would say. "I didn't rope any steers. It was
+that little jack-rabbit, Poor, that whooped things up and won the
+game. I didn't do a thing but shove 'em round some." And when it was
+hinted that the shoving around was what brought victory, "Get out!" he
+would growl. "Science is what does the business, and I don't know the
+first thing about the game."
+
+And so, while Peter was worshiped by the freshman class and very
+generally respected by the others, he wasn't at all the popular
+conception of a college hero. And there were three fellows, at least,
+who liked him all the better for it.
+
+Those three were Allan, Tommy, and Hal. Since that first meeting in
+Allan's room, the four had been much together. Tommy showed up at the
+gatherings less frequently than any one of the others, for Tommy, in
+his own words, "had a lot of mighty difficult stunts to do."
+
+Sometimes the quartet met in Allan's room, sometimes in Hal's, less
+frequently in Tommy's--for Tommy lived up two flights of stairs in
+McLean Hall, and Pete had a horror of climbing stairs. The only
+climbing he liked, he said, was climbing into a saddle. That was why he
+often found fault with his own apartments.
+
+These were on the second floor of a plain clap-boarded building at
+the corner of Town Lane and Center Street, with the railroad but a
+few hundred feet distant and the fire-house next door. Pete declared
+he liked the noise, and could never study so well as when the
+switch-engine was shunting cars to and fro at the end of the lane or
+the fire-bell was clanging an infrequent alarm. As few ever saw him
+studying, the statement sounded plausible.
+
+The ground floor of the building was occupied by a dealer in harness
+and leather; the third floor consisted of an empty loft. Across the
+lane--and the lane wasn't wide enough to boast of--was a livery stable.
+On the opposite corner was a carriage repair-shop and warehouse. A few
+doors below was a wheelwright's. The upper floors of the neighboring
+structures were occupied by carpenters, plumbers, roofers, and masons.
+
+Through Pete's windows, which were invariably open, be the weather what
+it might, floated in a strange and penetrating aroma--a mingled bouquet
+of coal-smoke from the railroad, of the odor of pine-shavings from the
+carpenter shops, of the pungent smell of leather from below, and of the
+fragrance from the stable across the street. Pete said it was healthful
+and satisfying. None disputed the latter quality. Pete's rooms--there
+were two of them--were quite as unique as his surroundings.
+
+Picture a bare, plank-ceiled loft, some forty feet long by twenty feet
+broad, divided in the exact center by a partition of half-inch matched
+boards and lighted by five windows. Imagine the walls and ceiling
+painted a pea-green, mentally hang two big oil-lamps--one in the middle
+of each room--from the latter, and spread half a dozen skins--bear,
+coyote, antelope, and cougar--over the discolored floor, and you
+have Pete's apartments. There was a door in the partition, but as it
+wouldn't close, owing to inequalities in the casing, it was always open.
+
+The furniture, of which there was very little, represented Centerport's
+best: there was a "golden-oak" bureau, a "Flemish-oak" easy chair, a
+"Chippendale" card-table--I am employing the dealer's language--an
+iron bedstead, a "mahogany" study table, a sprinkling of brightly
+upholstered, straight-backed chairs, and a few other pieces, equally
+highly polished and equally disturbing to the esthetic eye.
+
+The walls were almost, but not quite, bare. Pete didn't care for
+pictures, but on nails driven at haphazard hung a silver-mounted
+bridle, a rawhide lariat, a villainous-looking pair of Mexican
+wheel-spurs, a leather-banded sombrero, a cartridge-belt and holster,
+the latter holding a revolver, a leather quirt, and an Indian war-drum,
+while over the bedstead in the back room the head of a grizzly bear
+perpetually resented intrusion with snarling lips. The head of a
+mountain-sheep held a place of honor in the other apartment, and
+underneath it hung a Navajo Indian blanket, almost worth its weight in
+gold.
+
+There were only two objects that might have been set down in an
+inventory as pictures: one was an advertising calendar and the other a
+photograph of Pete's mother, who had died soon after Pete's advent in
+the world. The photograph shared the top of the dazzling yellow bureau
+with Pete's brushes and shaving utensils.
+
+In a corner of the front room was a trunk, covered with a yellow and
+red saddle-blanket. Against it leaned two guns--a battered Winchester
+carbine and a handsome two-barreled 12-gauge shot-gun. In another
+corner, as though thrown there the moment before, lay a brown leather
+stock saddle, with big hooded stirrups. The card-table held Pete's
+smoking things--two corn-cob pipes, a small sack of granulated tobacco,
+and an ash-tray. The tobacco usually distributed itself over the table
+and the ashes always blew onto the floor.
+
+In bright weather, the sunlight streamed in through three of the five
+windows and crossed the rooms in golden shafts, wherein the dust
+atoms danced and swirled. With the sunlight came the sounds of the
+neighborhood--the clang of the blacksmith's sledge against the anvil,
+the screech of the carpenter's plane, the steady _tap_, _tap_, _tap_ of
+the harness-maker's hammer, the stamping of horses' hoofs, the clamor
+of passing trains, and the chatter of the loiterers below the windows.
+Pete called the front room the "corral," the rear room the "stable,"
+the whole the "Ranch."
+
+If I have risked tiring the reader with too long a description of
+Pete's dwelling-place, it is because, in spite of their strange
+furnishings and hideous green walls, the rooms were far more homelike
+than many a smart suite in Grace Hall, and, to quote Tommy again,
+were "Pete through and through." Further, while Allan's, Hal's, and
+Tommy's rooms sometimes served as meeting-places for the four, the
+chambers over the harness-shop were their favorite resort. There was
+an undeniable charm about them; and if you could prevail upon Pete to
+close a few of the windows in cold weather, and if you didn't mind
+sitting upon the tables and the trunk, you could be very comfy at the
+Ranch.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+PETE'S CLUB TABLE
+
+
+On the Monday night succeeding the Robinson game the quartet was
+assembled in Pete's study. Allan had the easy chair, Hal and Tommy
+shared the big table, and Pete sat on the trunk. The windows were
+closed, for the night was cold, and the big hanging lamp diffused
+light, warmth, and a strong odor of kerosene through the apartment.
+This odor Pete was heroically striving to mitigate with the fumes of
+a cob pipe. Hal had tried the other pipe, but had soon given it up,
+avowing discontentedly that Pete ought to keep some real tobacco on
+hand for guests who weren't used to chopped hay. The bell in College
+Hall had just struck nine, and Tommy, for the fourth time, had slid
+from the table, pleading press of business, and had been pulled back by
+Hal.
+
+"Forget your old business, Tommy," said Hal.
+
+"Don't let him sneak," said Pete. "We're going to open a can of corn in
+a minute."
+
+"That's all very well," Tommy protested, "but I've got things to do.
+You lazy chaps, who never study----"
+
+Dismal groans from the opposition.
+
+"Can afford to loaf; but I want to tell you----"
+
+"Of course you do, Tommy," Allan interrupted, soothingly, "but we don't
+want you to. Be calm, precious youth; the Purp" (college slang for the
+Purple) "will come out just the same, whether you continue to adorn
+that desk for another ten minutes or not."
+
+"Why don't you fellows let a couple of weeks go by without putting out
+a paper?" asked Pete. "No one would notice it, and think what a high
+old time you could all have being useful for once."
+
+"Wish we could," sighed Tommy.
+
+"Tommy, you're a wicked liar!" said Hal. "You don't wish anything
+of the sort. If you missed an issue of that old sheet, you'd commit
+suicide in some awful manner; maybe you'd come down here and die of
+smells."
+
+"If you'd only put something in it," said Pete, "something a fellow
+could read and enjoy--a murder now and then, or a lynching. Couldn't
+you run a story with lots of blood? It's such a dismal paper, Tommy."
+
+"You fellows might jump into the river," suggested Tommy, scathingly.
+"We'd print your obits."
+
+"Our which?" Hal asked.
+
+"Obits--obituaries," he explained in a superior manner.
+
+"Would you put 'em on the fir?" asked Peter.
+
+"On the fir? What's the fir?"
+
+"Fir--first page." Pete mimicked Tommy's tone.
+
+"No," said Tommy, when the laughter had stopped, "not important enough."
+
+"Crushed and lifeless!" murmured Allan.
+
+"Tommy," asked Pete, severely, "do you mean that I'm not enough of a
+heavy-weight to be dishonored by having my name on the front page of
+that old up-country weekly of yours?"
+
+"The front page is for important news," said Tommy, with a wicked smile.
+
+"Such as measles in the grammar school and the election of Greaves as
+president of the Chess Club," explained Hal.
+
+"Now, I'll tell you what I'll do with you, Thomas," said Pete. "I'll
+bet you anything from an old hat to a quarter section of land that I
+can get my name and a half a column of talkee-talkee on the first page
+of the Erskine Purple any time I want to. Now, what say, Thomas?"
+
+"I'll bet you can't," laughed the other.
+
+"What'll you bet? Money talks, my son."
+
+"Oh, most anything. If you want your name on the front page of the
+Purple, you'll have to do some tall stunts."
+
+"Of course, that's what I mean: kill the Dean, or blow up College Hall,
+or have a fit in chapel."
+
+"Or subscribe for the paper," added Allan.
+
+"Come, Tommy, speak up. What will you bet?"
+
+"Oh, get out, you wild Indian! I'm going home."
+
+He made another effort to tear himself away.
+
+"Tommy, you're a coyote: you're skeered an' afeared. You know I'd win."
+
+"Oh, no, I'm not," said Tommy. "I'll bet a dinner for the four of us at
+the Elm Tree that you can't get your name on the front page while I'm
+on the paper-- Hold on, though; I won't bet that. I'll bet you won't
+get it there this year unless it's merely the name, as a member of a
+society, or as having attended a meeting, or something like that, you
+know."
+
+"Thomas, you're hedging," said Pete, "but I'll take your bet. And just
+my name isn't to count; nothing less than a full paragraph to myself
+goes. You fellows are witnesses."
+
+"We are," said Allan. "I smell that dinner already."
+
+"And you see Pete paying the bill," said Tommy.
+
+"I don't know who pays, and I don't care."
+
+"He cares not who pays for his dinner, so long as he may eat it," said
+Hal. "Wise child, Allan. And, by the way, talking of eating reminds me.
+You know Billy Greb, Allan?"
+
+"I'm going home," said Tommy.
+
+"(Shut up and sit down, Tommy!) Billy's getting up a freshman club
+table and wants you and me to join. What do you say?"
+
+"Where's it going to be?"
+
+"Pearson's."
+
+"How much?"
+
+"Six a week."
+
+"That's pretty steep, Hal. Besides, I may go to the track-team table in
+the spring."
+
+"I'm going home, you fellows," announced Tommy again.
+
+"Will you please shut up?" asked Hal. "Well, you'd better join until
+then, Allan; sufficient to the spring is the evil thereof."
+
+"Well, I'll think it over and let you know in a day or two. When does
+Greb want to start it?"
+
+"First of the month. If you weren't a foolish little sophomore, Tommy,
+you could come in too."
+
+"Huh!" answered Tommy, scathingly. "I've seen all I want of freshman
+club tables. I'm going----"
+
+"How about me, Hal?" asked Pete. "I'd like to join, if your friend will
+have me."
+
+Hal hesitated for an instant.
+
+"Why--er--I'll speak to him about it. But I think he's got his number
+made up."
+
+"That's all right," answered Pete, quietly.
+
+"But I'll do my best," said Hal, hurriedly and awkwardly. "Maybe----"
+
+"Call it off!" said Pete, with a cavernous yawn.
+
+"If it was my table--" continued Hal, anxious not to hurt the other's
+feelings.
+
+"I know. _That's_ all right. I can stand it."
+
+There was the sound of a gently closing door.
+
+"Hello!" Pete exclaimed. "Where's Tommy?"
+
+The three glanced in surprise around the room. Then--
+
+"I think," said Allan, dryly, "I _think_ I heard him say something
+about going home."
+
+The next afternoon Pete found Allan at the gymnasium, and walked back
+to Mrs. Purdy's with him. He was so quiet that Allan was certain he had
+something on his mind. What that something was transpired when they had
+reached Allan's room.
+
+"What sort of a cayuse--meaning gentleman--is this fellow Greb?" asked
+Pete.
+
+"I don't know him very well," Allan replied, "but I fancy he thinks
+himself a bit of a swell. He's a Dunlap Hall fellow, and of course you
+know what that means."
+
+"Never heard tell of it," said Pete. "What is it--a preparatory school?"
+
+"Yes, it's-- Oh, it's all right, of course, only we used to make a good
+deal of fun of it at Hillton. You go there when you're nine or ten,
+and they give you a sort of a governess to look after you until you
+get old enough to make her life a burden; then they put you in another
+house. They're terribly English, you know; have forms and fagging; and
+when you want a row with a chap, you have to notify the captain of your
+form, and it's all arranged for you like a regular duel, and you go
+out back of one of the buildings, and somebody holds your coat for you
+and somebody else mops your face with a sponge, and you try and hit
+the other fellow in the eye. It's like a second edition of Tom Brown.
+Think of getting mad with a chap in the morning and having to wait
+until afternoon to whack him! There's no fun in that. You'd like as not
+want to beg his pardon and buy him a 'Sunday'! But they think they're a
+pretty elegant lot, just the same."
+
+"Think of that!" sighed Pete. "And I might have gone there, if I'd
+known, and had a nurse and all the scrapping I wanted. So this fellow
+Greb thinks he's the whole thing, does he? Guess that's the reason Hal
+was hunting a hole when I asked myself to join. I didn't know you were
+so mighty choice about who you ate with. Out there we ask whoever comes
+along. I guess you fellows thought I was loco, didn't you?"
+
+"Thought you were what?"
+
+"Why, crazy, inviting myself like that."
+
+"Nonsense, Pete; we all understood. There was no harm done. It's just
+that Greb wants to get up a table of fellows he knows."
+
+"Does he know you?"
+
+"Why--er--I've met him, of course."
+
+"And he could have met me if he'd wanted to, couldn't he?"
+
+"I suppose he could, but he doesn't know about you."
+
+"Wouldn't care to, I guess."
+
+"Oh, nonsense, Pete; you're making a lot out of nothing."
+
+"Dare say he thinks I eat in my shirt-sleeves and swallow my knife,"
+continued Pete, gloomily. "Maybe he thinks I live on horned toads and
+grasshoppers."
+
+"But, I tell you, he doesn't know you."
+
+"I guess he's heard of me," answered Pete. "Guess he knew you and Hal
+and I were traveling together."
+
+"Look here, Pete; if you want to join a club table----"
+
+"Oh, _that's_ all right. Moocha wano club table."
+
+"Oh, all right," answered Allan, a bit puzzled.
+
+"I'm going to join a club table on the 1st," said Pete.
+
+"Oh!" said Allan, again. "What--that is, whose is it?"
+
+"Pete Burley's."
+
+"What! How--how do you mean?"
+
+"Mean I'm going to run my own grub-wagon. And I want you to join."
+
+"But-- Look here, Pete, I don't believe you can find a decent place to
+take you. Everything's full up already."
+
+"Where is there a decent place?" asked Pete, calmly.
+
+"Well, there's Pearson's, of course, but you couldn't get in there.
+And----"
+
+"Why couldn't I?"
+
+"Because she takes training tables chiefly, and is pretty particular,
+anyhow."
+
+"Yes, that's what she told me," said Pete.
+
+"Then you went there?"
+
+Pete nodded.
+
+"I could have told you you wouldn't get in there. There's a pretty good
+place further along----"
+
+"Oh, _that's_ all right. We start on the 1st."
+
+"Start where?"
+
+"Mrs. Pearson's."
+
+"Pete, you're lying!" gasped Allan.
+
+"No, straight talk. I engaged the front corner room on the second
+floor. It's a right nice-looking place: paper on the walls, fireplace,
+lounge, window-seat----"
+
+"But--but how'd you do it?"
+
+"Oh, _that's_ all right. We had a little pow-wow. It's going to be six
+a week and no extras."
+
+"You crazy Westerner!" said Allan, in bewildered admiration. Then, "But
+you haven't got any one to join, have you?"
+
+"Not yet; but _that'll_ be all right. It's going to be select, you
+know; eight in all. There'll be you and me, that's two; and Hal----"
+
+"I don't believe he'll come," said Allan, doubtfully. "You see, Pete,
+he's promised Greb."
+
+"I don't guess Greb will have a table," said Pete.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Well, where's he going to put it?"
+
+Allan stared. Then----
+
+"Do you mean that you've got Greb's room?" he exclaimed.
+
+"'Twa'n't his," answered Pete, coolly. "He hadn't settled the matter,
+and so I said I'd take it and put down a forfeit. And there isn't
+another decent place for a high-toned, pedigreed chap like him to go
+to."
+
+"Pete Burley, you're a wonder!" breathed Allan.
+
+"Think Hal will join?" asked Pete, unmoved by the tribute. Allan nodded
+silently.
+
+"That'll make three, then. Now, of course, I know lots of fellows who
+would come in if I asked 'em, but, as I just said, this thing is going
+to be select; it's going to be the selectest table in town. So you tell
+me who are the top of the bunch in our class, and I'll go and fetch 'em
+in if I have to rope 'em and hog-tie 'em." Pete took out a pencil and
+began to write on the back of an envelope.
+
+"Of course, it's all poppycock," said Allan, "but--well, there's
+What's-his-name, the class president, and Maitland, and Poor----"
+
+"Whoo-ee! I'm glad you thought of Poor."
+
+"And Armstrong--only he lives at home, I think--and Mays, and Wolcott,
+and--and Cooper--Cooper of St. Eustace, I mean; the other chap's an
+awful duffer--and Van Sciver----"
+
+"Whoa, Bill! That's eight--eleven, counting us three; guess I can get
+enough out of the list. Besides, I must ask Greb; mustn't slight Greb."
+
+"You're not going to ask him?"
+
+"Ain't I? Just you keep your eyes peeled and you'll see." He got up and
+carefully put the list in the big yellow leather wallet he carried.
+"Guess I'll see a few of 'em this afternoon. Want to come along?"
+
+Allan shook his head vigorously.
+
+"Not me, Pete. I don't want to have to testify against you before the
+faculty. How do I know what you'll do to those chaps to make them join?"
+
+"Oh, say, Allan!" Pete turned at the gate. "Remember those ducks we saw
+on the river last week? Well, let's go after 'em Thursday morning, will
+you?"
+
+"Shooting, you mean? I haven't a gun."
+
+"You take my shot-gun and I'll use the rifle. I've shot ducks with a
+rifle before this."
+
+"All right, Pete, but like as not the silly ducks won't be there
+Thursday."
+
+"Well, we'll find something to shoot, all right, if it's just
+squirrels. We'll have nothing to do Thursday, and can stay as long as
+we like; make a day of it. Maybe we can find some place to have dinner
+and won't have to come back here. I'm getting mighty tired of commons,
+Allan. Well, it'll be considerable different when we get the table
+started, won't it?"
+
+"I suppose so," answered Allan.
+
+"Say, do you think Hal or Tommy would go along?"
+
+"Ducking? Tommy might, but Hal's going to sign off and go home over
+Saturday."
+
+"Lucky chap!" sighed Pete. "Wish I was." He looked thoughtfully across
+the leaf-strewn college yard. "Suppose I could, but--guess the old man
+would raise Cain. Allan!"
+
+"Yep?"
+
+"I'd give a hundred dollars for sight of a mountain. Well, I must jog
+along."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE DUCK HUNT
+
+
+Thanksgiving Day dawned cloudy and still, with a hint of snow in the
+air. Allan slept late, in enjoyment of holiday privileges, and Pete was
+banging at his front window before he had finished dressing.
+
+They reached Brown Hall a bare two minutes before the doors closed,
+and hurried through a light breakfast. Ten o'clock found them walking
+briskly along the Morrisville road, some four miles from college,
+having crossed the river by the county bridge and turned to the left
+through the little town of Kirkplain, which is opposite Centerport.
+Allan wore a white sweater, over which he had pulled an old coat; the
+pockets of the latter were bulging with shells. Pete wore a canvas
+hunting-coat and carried his cartridges in a belt. The Winchester
+was slung over his shoulder, and altogether he made a formidable
+appearance. Allan had the shot-gun. Tommy had refused to accompany
+them, pleading, as ever, a press of business; Hal had taken himself off
+to the bosom of his family.
+
+So far they had seen nothing to shoot at save a red squirrel. Allan had
+impulsively sought to bring that down, but had failed for the excellent
+reason that he had forgotten to load. The squirrel had seemed to
+appreciate the humor of the incident and had chattered in their faces
+from the bough of a dead maple-tree. Allan had been glad afterward that
+the gun hadn't gone off.
+
+The blunder reminded Pete of a parallel case in his own experience,
+and he had told it so well that Allan had been forced to sit on a
+rock in order to recover from his fit of laughter. This story led to
+others. Pete proved a perfect mine of interesting narratives on hunting
+adventure, some of them laughable, some of them so exciting that Allan
+forgot how heavy the shot-gun under his arm had become.
+
+When they struck the cross-roads, some three miles from Kirkplain, they
+were in the best of spirits. They took the road to the left, which
+leads down to the river and the ferry to Harwich. At the ferry they
+left beaten tracks and followed the river-bank.
+
+The travel was slower now, both because they had to break their way
+through underbrush, make detours around inlets, cross brooks, and climb
+an occasional fence, and because they were keeping their eyes open
+for game. Allan had never done much hunting, and he was becoming quite
+excited at the prospect.
+
+Pete led the way, forcing his big body through the bushes with scarce
+a sound, while Allan could make no progress without causing enough
+disturbance to frighten any self-respecting duck a mile distant. Pete
+seemed to realize this fact, for he frequently looked back at Allan
+with pursed lips and violent shakes of his head, and then glanced
+anxiously at the river. After a half mile of this, Pete stopped in a
+little clearing and leaned his rifle against a bush. Allan joined him,
+very much out of breath.
+
+"See anything?" he panted, hoarsely. Pete shook his head.
+
+A few yards away lay the river, sluggish and leaden under gray sky. At
+their backs the ground rose gently, and the reeds and bushes gave place
+to a thick growth of trees. A few rods further up-stream was a little
+promontory. Everything was very still save for the chirp of the birds
+in the woods and the infrequent screech of a locomotive-whistle from
+toward Centerport. Across the river and further down-stream the little
+hamlet of Harwich nestled under its leafless elms. Pete sat down and
+drew forth his corn-cob pipe.
+
+"Might as well take a rest," he said. "Smoke?"
+
+"No, thanks." Allan didn't possess a pipe of his own, and wouldn't
+have attempted Pete's for a ten-dollar bill; the very smell of it
+frequently made him faint. Pete stuffed the blackened bowl full of dry
+tobacco and lighted it. Then he leaned back on one elbow and puffed
+contentedly for a moment. Allan nibbled the end of a grass-blade and
+stared across the empty stream.
+
+"This is about the place where we saw those birds the other day," said
+Pete, finally. "Guess they've pulled their freight. Sorry!"
+
+"What's the diff?" asked Allan. "We've had the walk. Besides, maybe
+we'll find a gray squirrel if we go back through the woods."
+
+"Anyhow, I don't guess there's any use going farther up the river. What
+time is it, I wonder? Did you bring your watch?"
+
+"Quarter of twelve," said Allan. "Getting hungry?"
+
+"I could eat a saddle!" answered Pete. "Supposing we go back and take
+the ferry over to Harwich? Is there any place there we could get a
+feed?"
+
+"I don't know, but I should think there ought to be. Got any money?"
+
+Pete sat up suddenly and searched his pockets.
+
+"Not a red!" he exclaimed. "I forgot to change."
+
+"Same here," said Allan, dolefully. Pete picked his pipe up from where
+it had fallen and relighted it. Then he threw himself onto his back,
+put one leg over the other knee, and chuckled.
+
+"I don't think it's so terribly funny," said Allan, aggrievedly. "We
+can't get home until three or four o'clock. Wish we'd had sense enough
+to bring lunch with us."
+
+"Yes; a half dozen sandwiches and a piece of pie wouldn't go so bad,
+would they? Nice thick sandwiches, with ham or beef inside, and lots of
+butter and mustard. And--what kind of pie do you like best, Allan?"
+
+"Oh, shut up, you!"
+
+"I like pumpkin--or, maybe, apple. Yes, apple's pretty hard to beat.
+We'll have apple; about three pieces each."
+
+Allan groaned and threw a handful of dried grass into Pete's face. Pete
+brushed it aside and went on:
+
+"When we get the table going, we'll get Mother Pearson to give us
+apple-pie every night."
+
+"Yes, when you do!" growled Allan.
+
+"Oh, _that's_ all right, my son. Just because the only fellow I've
+found wouldn't join, you needn't think that table isn't going to be.
+Hal's going to introduce me to Maitland and Van Something----"
+
+"Van Sciver."
+
+"If you say so. And Cooper; and I'll bet you a bunch of cows I get that
+table filled up inside of a week. Want to bet?"
+
+"I don't bet," said Allan, aggravatingly. "Besides, if I were you, I'd
+go slow on betting until I'd paid for that dinner."
+
+"What dinner?"
+
+"The one you wagered with Tommy."
+
+"Ginger! I'd clean forgotten that. But _that'll_ be all right."
+
+"You'll lose."
+
+"Lose nothing! Just you hold your horses and keep your eye on your
+Uncle Pete. Let's think what we'll make Tommy order for us at that
+feed."
+
+"Let's go home and get something to eat," said Allan, irritably.
+
+"Home? Not a bit of it! We'll find a house and beg a Thanksgiving
+dinner, that's what we'll do. Saddle up and let's mosey along." He
+dropped his pipe into his pocket and got to his feet. "There's bound to
+be a house somewhere's about; look at how the woods have been cleared
+out here. Shouldn't wonder if we found eight courses and a Hinglish
+butler."
+
+"One course'll do me," groaned Allan, as he got up, "and I don't care
+how coarse it is."
+
+"We shot a man out in our county for making a joke like that, and he
+was a heap homelier than you-- _Listen!_"
+
+Allan listened. From beyond the little promontory came the unmistakable
+quack of a duck. Pete pumped a cartridge into the barrel of his carbine
+and tiptoed toward the shore. Allan seized his shot-gun, fell over a
+stone, and followed. Pete waved him back, and then returned.
+
+"They're around that point. We've got to go mighty quiet; if we don't,
+they'll fly. Keep low until you get to the pebbles there, and then get
+down and crawl. Come on!"
+
+Allan followed, watching each footstep and trying not to breathe. A
+clump of trees came down almost to the water at the point, and hid
+what was beyond. But when Allan had, by painfully wriggling his body,
+stomach to earth, reached the little expanse of pebbled shore and
+Pete's side, his heart leaped for joy. Before them was a little cove,
+and in it, peacefully moving about its surface, was a flock of ducks.
+How many there were, he couldn't tell; there seemed dozens at first. He
+threw his gun to his shoulder and squinted along the barrel.
+
+"Hold on!" whispered Pete. "We'll have to scare 'em up somehow."
+
+"What for?" Allan whispered, anxiously.
+
+"You don't shoot ducks in the water, you idiot!" answered Pete. "Here,
+I'll raise 'em with this stone. Be ready and take 'em as they rise.
+Wait till you get two together, but shoot quick, and let 'em have both
+barrels."
+
+He dug a small stone out of the sand and aiming at the middle of the
+flock, let drive. There was a sensation among the ducks, but not the
+panic Pete had looked for. They swam away from the spot where the
+stone sank, and made a good deal of fuss, but not a duck took wing.
+Pete grunted and threw another rock. The result was the same. The
+ducks discussed the matter volubly among themselves and swam around in
+circles, but they didn't show any intention of flying away. Pete was
+disgusted.
+
+"I'm going to knock that old drake's head off," he whispered. "I guess
+that'll bring 'em up. All ready?"
+
+Allan nodded, clutching his gun desperately and still squinting along
+the barrels. There was a loud report, then another, and a third. Two
+ducks floated quietly on the water. The others, with wild quacks of
+dismay, paddled to shore and disappeared into the bushes.
+
+"Well, of all crazy ducks!" ejaculated Pete, staring after them.
+
+"They--they didn't fly!" said Allan, breathlessly.
+
+"Fly! Why, the things are clean locoed! They're not ducks,
+they're--they're--_I_ don't know what they are!"
+
+Pete stared about him in bewilderment.
+
+"They didn't fly, and so I shot," Allan explained.
+
+"And we only got two!" said Pete, disgustedly.
+
+"But they went up there," said Allan. "Why can't we go after them?"
+
+"And shoot 'em on land?" Pete shook his head slowly. "Allan, I've done
+fool things in my time, but I never shot ducks on land."
+
+"I don't see what difference it makes," objected Allan.
+
+"Maybe not; maybe you're used to crazy ducks. I'm not. I refuse to have
+further dealings with such--such freaks of nature. How we going to get
+those?" he asked, nodding at the dead birds.
+
+"We ought to have brought a dog."
+
+"Or a rowboat. Well, here goes!" He sat down and took off his shoes and
+stockings. Then, with his trousers rolled up as far as they would go,
+he waded out into the water. Allan sat down on the bank and promised to
+rescue him if he went over his depth. Pete reached the first bird--it
+was the drake he had shot, and it lacked a head--and held it up. He
+studied it a moment, shaking his head slowly.
+
+"What's the matter?" called Allan.
+
+"Oh, nothing; nothing at all. Only I never saw a duck like this before
+in my life!"
+
+"Why, what's the matter with--" began Allan. Then the words stopped and
+he jumped to his feet.
+
+"Sorry you don't approve of them," said a voice behind him, "but
+they're the best I've got!"
+
+[Illustration: "Sorry you don't approve of them."]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+DINNER FOR TWO
+
+
+The regret, politely expressed though it was, had the effect of a
+thunderbolt on both Allan and Pete, neither of whom had heard or seen
+anything to suggest the presence of a third person on the scene.
+Allan's surprise was ludicrous enough, but the picture presented by
+Pete--mouth and eyes wide open and the headless duck held stiffly at
+arm's length, his whole attitude suggesting that the icy water in which
+he stood had suddenly frozen him stiff--caused even the newcomer to
+smile a little under his mustache.
+
+The latter was a rather stout gentleman, of middle age, with
+ruddy cheeks, piercing dark eyes, and an expression of extreme
+self-possession. He wore a suit of rough gray tweed and leather
+leggings and carried a shot-gun. At his side, exhibiting two rows of
+very white teeth, stood a red and white setter. Allan liked neither
+the gun nor the dog, and envied Pete his chilly, but more distant,
+position. The newcomer glanced silently from Allan to Pete. It was the
+latter who found his voice first.
+
+"Those your ducks?" he asked.
+
+The man nodded. Pete looked again at the drake in his hand.
+
+"Oh!" he said.
+
+The dog growled and Allan observed that the man's gun was cocked and
+that it was held in a position that was far from reassuring. Pete
+regarded the man with a puzzled expression.
+
+"Look here, partner," he asked, "are those _tame_ ducks?"
+
+"They are, sir."
+
+Pete's face cleared; a grin overspread his features, and he chuckled
+aloud as he waded back to shore.
+
+"You seem amused?" said the man, politely but with a note of
+interrogation.
+
+"Well, I'm mighty relieved, as the broncho said when he bucked the man
+off. You see, I thought they were wild ducks, and when they wouldn't
+fly, I was afraid they were degenerating. Of course, as they were tame
+ducks, it's all right." Pete waded out of the water and the setter laid
+back his ears and growled suspiciously. "Hello, dog!" said Pete, as he
+went toward where he had deposited his shoes, stockings, and rifle.
+
+"Just stay where you are, please!" said the man. He waved toward Pete's
+possessions. The dog trotted over to them and stood guard, watching
+their owner intently. Pete's grin broadened. He tossed down the duck he
+had rescued.
+
+"There's another out there," he said. "Guess the dog could get it,
+couldn't he?"
+
+"Where do you gentlemen belong?" asked the man. The gentlemen exchanged
+glances. Then--
+
+"Centerport," answered Allan.
+
+"Students?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Humph!" said the owner of the ducks. "Want me to believe you thought
+my ducks were wild ones, do you?"
+
+"You don't suppose we'd walk six miles to shoot tame ones, do you?"
+asked Pete, scathingly. The man shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I suppose you're ready to pay for the pair you've shot?"
+
+"Glad to," answered Pete. "How much?"
+
+"Well, I guess a dollar will do. They were both Pekins."
+
+"Can't say I've had a dollar's worth of sport," said Pete, "but here's
+your money." He put a hand into his trouser pocket. Then he stopped
+short and looked with dismay at Allan. The owner of the ducks waited
+silently.
+
+"Guess you'll have to trust us, partner," said Pete. "We both came
+away without any money." Allan, fearing arrest would follow this
+announcement, held his breath. But the man only smiled courteously.
+
+"Very well," he answered. "There is no hurry."
+
+"Thanks!" said Pete. He looked inquiringly toward the dog. "How about
+my shoes and stockings? It's a bit chilly."
+
+"I fancy your walk back will warm you up," said the man. Pete whistled.
+
+"Going to keep 'em for security, eh?" he asked. The other nodded
+gravely.
+
+"Couldn't compromise, I suppose?" Pete insinuated. "That carbine's
+worth a good bit more'n a dollar. It's hard walking without any shoes."
+
+"I dare say," was the reply. "But maybe if you stub your toe a few
+times, it'll remind you to find out whether a duck is domestic or wild
+before you shoot it."
+
+"Look here, Mr. Whatever-your-name-is," said Allan, explosively,
+"you'll get your old dollar. We're not thieves. But you've got to let
+him have his shoes and stockings."
+
+"If I don't?" asked the man, with a flicker of appreciation in his
+eyes.
+
+"Why--we'll just take them, that's all."
+
+"I wonder if you could do it?" said the other, measuring the two with
+his eyes. "I almost believe you could."
+
+"Well, then--" began Allan.
+
+"But of course you'd get damaged in the process," continued the other,
+cheerfully. "Now, look here; you've killed my ducks, and it's only
+right that you should pay for them. Isn't that so?"
+
+"Yes; but if we have no money----"
+
+"That's it," was the answer. "It doesn't seem probable that you two
+students would come six miles from college without any money. Where are
+you going to get your dinner?"
+
+"There isn't going to be any dinner," said Pete. "You can believe us or
+not, just as you like, and be hanged to you! If you'll put down your
+gun, I'll lick you."
+
+"That's an honest offer," said the man, smiling outright for the first
+time, "but it isn't just practical. I rather think you could do it, and
+I don't see why I should be licked merely because you have killed my
+ducks. Do you?"
+
+"I guess that's so, partner," Pete answered. "But something's got to be
+done. I can't walk home without any shoes."
+
+The man received this assertion in silence, glancing thoughtfully from
+Pete to the articles in discussion. The dog looked suspiciously from
+Pete to Allan. Allan scowled at the dog's master. The latter spoke:
+
+"Here, Jack!"
+
+Jack went to him unwillingly. Pete picked up his shoes and stockings.
+
+"Thanks!" he said. Then he put them on. The man watched him smilingly.
+When the last lace was tied, Pete got up.
+
+"My name's Burley," he said. "I'll come over with your money to-morrow
+or next day. Come on, Allan. Good day, sir."
+
+"You're forgetting your rifle," said the man. Pete looked puzzled.
+Then--
+
+"Do I get that, too?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, you might as well take that along, I guess." Pete went back and
+got it. "Where you going now?" asked the man.
+
+"Home," said Pete.
+
+"But how about dinner?"
+
+"Well, maybe we'll beg something to eat on the way. I guess there
+ain't any place around here where they'd take a Winchester carbine
+as security for a Thanksgiving dinner, is there?" asked Pete, with a
+smile. The stranger answered the smile.
+
+"Hardly. But I tell you what you do. Strike straight up through the
+woods here over the hill till you come to a lane. Keep along that for
+a quarter of a mile until you come to a big brown house standing back
+from the lane. You go there and tell 'em you're hungry, and you'll get
+plenty to eat. Ask for Mr. Guild. Don't forget, now; first house you
+come to. There isn't another for a mile further, so you'd better follow
+my advice."
+
+"Thanks!" said Pete. Allan echoed him.
+
+"All right," said the man, smiling kindly. "Good morning, gentlemen."
+
+"Good morning," they answered. They started off through the woods in
+the direction he had indicated, but after a few yards Allan turned and
+looked back. The man, with the setter at heel, was moving along a path
+at right angles to them. He glanced up and waved his hand.
+
+"We're sorry about the ducks," called Allan.
+
+"That's so," Pete shouted.
+
+The man nodded good-naturedly. Then the trees hid him.
+
+Allan and Pete walked on in silence for a ways. Then--
+
+"Say, he wasn't such a bad sort, was he?" asked Allan.
+
+"No, he's all right. I don't believe he was going to do any more than
+scare us, anyway. Guess he was just having some fun with us."
+
+"Wasn't it funny about the ducks being tame ones?" asked Allan,
+presently, as they left the woods, climbed over a stone wall, and
+struck off up a lane.
+
+"That's a joke on me," said Pete, laughing. "Ginger! How was I to know
+that folks left their old ducks floating around loose all over the
+country here? Out our way, when you see a duck in a lake or on the
+river, it's a wild duck, and you just naturally go ahead and shoot it.
+That's what bothered me--those fool ducks sitting there and letting
+me throw rocks at 'em. Next time-- Say, I guess that's our ranch over
+there."
+
+Allan's gaze followed the other's.
+
+A turn in the lane laid bare a broad expanse of lawn, interspersed with
+ornamental trees and shrubbery, beyond which stood a long, rambling
+house of brown-shingled walls and numerous red chimneys. Farther off
+were stables and barns. From the chimneys the smoke arose straight into
+the still air, suggesting warmth and good cheer. The boys paused and
+looked longingly across the lawn.
+
+"Shall we try it?" asked Allan.
+
+"Sure!" Pete said. "I'm so hungry I could eat cedar bark."
+
+"But what will they think?" Allan demurred. "It isn't as though it were
+a farmhouse, you know."
+
+"_That's_ all right; the sweller the folks the better the rations. Come
+on; let's cut across here."
+
+"We'll just ask for some bread and a glass of milk," suggested Allan.
+
+"Bread and milk? Ginger! I've got to have pie and hot coffee!"
+
+"But we'll go to the back door, won't we?"
+
+"Like tramps? Not a bit of it. We'll go to the front. What was the name
+he told us?"
+
+"Guild."
+
+"That's right; Guild. Hello! look there; there's another one of those
+setter dogs. Looks just like the beast the fellow back there had,
+doesn't it?"
+
+But this dog only observed them indifferently from a respectful
+distance, and then trotted around the corner of the house as they
+mounted the broad steps, crossed a wide veranda, and pushed the ivory
+button beside the big oaken door. Allan strove to appear at ease, but
+in reality looked as though he had come to steal the family silver. A
+neatly-aproned maid opened the door.
+
+"Is Mr. Guild in?" asked Pete, with unruffled composure.
+
+"Yes, sir. Will you please walk in?" They followed her into a library,
+in which a wood fire was crackling merrily in the chimney-place. Allan
+felt like an impostor. Pete calmly selected the easiest chair and
+lowered himself into it with a deep sigh of contentment.
+
+"This is something like!" he said. "I'll bet we'll get two or three
+kinds of pie, Allan."
+
+But Allan, sitting uncomfortably on the edge of a straight-backed
+chair, only smiled distressedly and listened to the footsteps coming
+nearer and nearer down the uncarpeted hall. The footsteps reached the
+door; Pete and Allan got to their feet as the door swung open.
+
+"Mr. Guild--" began Pete. Then he stopped short.
+
+Before them was the owner of the ducks!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE CAPSIZED BOAT
+
+
+Allan and Pete didn't forget that day for a long time. In retrospect,
+it was the brightest one between the beginning of the college year and
+the Christmas recess. For long afterward Pete would point with pride to
+his performance at table on that day, and declare that he believed that
+should he live to be a hundred he could never eat as much again. Dinner
+began at two o'clock and ended, not because of lack of further viands
+but because of inability on the part of the guests, at half-past four.
+
+The family at Hillcrest consisted of Mr. Guild, his wife, a
+pleasant-faced and sweet-voiced woman several years his junior, and a
+three-year-old son and heir, who did not make his appearance at table
+but who was afterward ceremoniously introduced in the nursery. Both
+host and hostess appeared to have no other desire in life than to make
+the two guests happy and utterly ruin their digestions.
+
+Even Pete had had momentary qualms over appearing at table in the
+unconventional attire of shooting-coat and flannel shirt, but their
+objections had been politely overruled, and by the time the turkey had
+made its appearance they had both lost sight of the fact that they
+were not dressed in the mode. It was while carving the turkey that the
+morning's episode was recalled.
+
+"This, Mr. Burley," said their host, "is only turkey. Had there been
+more time, we would have had a duck prepared for you."
+
+Allan wondered, while he laughed, whether Mrs. Guild had heard the
+story of the duck-hunt. The demure expression about her mouth led him
+to suspect that she had.
+
+After dinner they adjourned to the library again, and Pete was induced
+to smoke a cigar, although, as Allan guessed, he would much rather
+have used his corn-cob pipe. Mrs. Guild disappeared for a while, and
+Pete and Allan stretched themselves luxuriously in front of the fire
+and listened to their host and did a good deal of talking themselves.
+Mr. Guild led them to tell of their college life, and displayed such
+sympathy with their views and ambitions that at the end of an hour the
+two boys had become his enthusiastic admirers. He knew the West like a
+book, and Pete became quite excited--for Pete--swapping recollections
+and stories of "out there."
+
+After a while Mrs. Guild appeared again, and they went into the
+drawing-room and sat silent and happy in the firelight while she
+played for them. She apologized for knowing no college songs, but Pete
+gallantly assured her that he preferred "straight music." Still later
+there was a four-handed game of billiards in an upper hall, in which
+Mrs. Guild and Allan were badly defeated by the host and Pete. Then
+came the visit to the pink-hung nursery and the formal introductions
+to Master Thomas Guild, Junior. And by that time it was after eight
+o'clock, and a surrey stood at the door, waiting to bear them back to
+Centerport.
+
+"You must come out some afternoon," said their host, "and let me show
+you around. Both Mrs. Guild and I have enjoyed your visit, and we want
+you again. We don't have so many callers but what a couple more will be
+welcome at any time. And when you come, it must be to stay to dinner
+with us."
+
+And Allan and Pete readily agreed, and kept to their agreement. They
+each voted Mr. Guild a fine fellow, and each lost his heart to the
+hostess. The dollar was duly paid, and they received a receipt "in full
+for two ducks. Trusting to receive a continuance of your patronage, I
+remain, Yours faithfully, Thomas A. Guild." There was another visit to
+Hillcrest the following week, and several more before the occurrence
+of the incident which, for a time at least, put thoughts of visiting
+out of mind.
+
+On the Monday after Thanksgiving and the duck-hunt, the story of which
+was now college property, Pete stamped into Allan's room just before
+dinner, kicked the snow from his shoes against the chimney, tossed his
+sombrero onto the desk, and subsided into the armchair with a mighty
+sigh of triumph.
+
+"_That's_ all right," he announced, heartily but vaguely.
+
+"What?" asked Allan, momentarily abandoning his struggle with Herodotus.
+
+"Club table. I've got my eighth man."
+
+"Not really? Who have you got?"
+
+"Well, there's"--he took a list from his pocket--"there's you, and Hal,
+and Wolcott, Poor----"
+
+"Pete, you're lying!"
+
+"--and Cooper, Van Sciver, Maitland, and your Uncle Pete."
+
+"But--but how'd you do it, Pete? How'd you get them to join? Offer to
+pay half their board, or--or what?"
+
+"Oh, it just took a little dip-lo-macy, my son; just a little
+dip-lo-macy. I started out with you and Hal. I got Hal to introduce
+Poor. Then I told Poor I was getting up a representative table, and
+got him to promise to join if I secured Maitland and Van Sciver. He
+introduced me to Van Sciver. I told him that you and Hal and Poor had
+promised, and he came right over to the party. You were quite a card,
+my son. I had no trouble with Cooper when I told him you were one of
+our principal sights. And so it went. After I'd got Poor and Cooper
+and Van Sciver cinched, there was nothing left to do but receive and
+consider applications. I could have had twenty, but I set out to make
+this table exclusive, and exclusive it's going to be, if I have to get
+the Dean--hang him!" Pete frowned a moment in silence. Then, "Wolcott
+was the last to join; he agreed ten minutes ago; I just came from his
+room."
+
+"Pete, you surely are a lucky dub!" said Allan. "I don't believe
+there's another fellow in college that could have got all those chaps
+together!"
+
+"There wasn't much luck about it," said Pete, calmly. "It just took
+hard work. Why, I haven't studied a lick since Wednesday, and I've cut
+half my recitations. I guess that's why the Dean wants to see me."
+
+"Have you heard from him?"
+
+"Yes. I had a polite postal card from him yesterday, and an impolite
+one to-day."
+
+"But why----"
+
+"Well, I didn't have time to call on him yesterday; I was too busy
+seeing fellows. It seems to have made him some angry."
+
+Allan whistled expressively.
+
+"You ought to have gone, Pete. He'll raise thunder with you now; see if
+he don't."
+
+"Oh, _that's_ all right; he can't do any worse than expel me. And I'm
+getting pretty tired of this shop, anyway; there isn't much doing. And
+now that I've got the table made up, all the excitement's over with.
+I've thought all along I wouldn't be here much after Christmas."
+
+"Oh, shut up that! Who's going to run the table, if you go and get
+fired? And what do you suppose I'm going to do, you idiot?"
+
+"Oh, I guess you wouldn't care," said Pete, sheepishly. But he seemed
+rather pleased when Allan threw Fernald's Selections at his head.
+
+"Well, maybe he'll let me off easy this time; just suspend me, perhaps."
+
+"You'd better go and see him right away. But you can't until to-morrow,
+now."
+
+"Oh, yes; I guess I'll call at his house to-night."
+
+"He doesn't like you to, they say," cautioned Allan. "If I were you,
+I'd wait until morning."
+
+"No; better have it over with. I'll drop around afterward and tell you
+about it. Coming to dinner?"
+
+Allan pleaded study, and Pete took himself off.
+
+As it turned out, the Dean was merciful and Pete was merely placed upon
+probation--a fact which appeared to amuse him vastly.
+
+"It's just like old times," he explained to Allan and Hal, the latter
+having come in to recount the wonderful things which had happened to
+him during his visit home. "Out in Colorado, I was most always on
+probation. Used to feel downright lonesome when I wasn't."
+
+"That's all well enough," said Hal, "but you want to be careful, for
+old Levett's the very dickens if you get too gay with him. First thing
+you know, you won't know anything."
+
+"Don't now," answered Pete, promptly and cheerfully. "But I wouldn't be
+surprised if something did drop. The fact is--" he hesitated, sighed
+dolefully, and shook his head, "the fact is, I've been feeling lately
+that something unpleasant is going to happen to me. I guess it's a--a
+premonition."
+
+His tone was quite sad, and Allan and Hal stared at him in silent
+surprise. Then--
+
+"What's the matter with you, you idiot?" asked Allan.
+
+"Nothing; I dare say it's just foolishness, but somehow--" He sighed
+again. "Well, _that's_ all right," he went on, with an evident effort
+at cheerfulness. "Have a good time, Hal?"
+
+"You're off your feed, that's what's the matter with you," said Hal,
+severely. "Your liver's out of whack. Better see the doctor."
+
+"What's probation, anyway?" asked Allan, lightly. "It's likely to
+happen to any one."
+
+"It isn't that," Pete replied, dolefully. "But I don't want to talk of
+my troubles," he continued, with martyr-like complacency. "Tell us what
+you did, Hal."
+
+"Oh, you're plumb woozy!" exclaimed the latter. Nevertheless, he
+consented to tell again of the remarkable events which had transpired
+during his absence, and Pete's melancholy disappeared. It was a
+peculiar feature of it that during the following week it possessed him
+only occasionally. But when it did, he seemed in the uttermost depths
+of melancholy--a melancholy quite as mysterious and remarkable to his
+friends as the celerity with which he recovered on each occasion.
+Hal declared over and over that he was "woozy"--a term of doubtful
+significance, but quite satisfying to the user--and Tommy hinted at
+overstudy. This was among themselves. When Pete was present, they
+merely called him a fool, and let it go at that.
+
+It was the first day of December that witnessed the advent upon the
+scene of a new character in our story. A wagon stopped in front of
+Mrs. Purdy's in the afternoon and an expressman deposited a small
+box inside Allan's door. He found it there when he returned from
+his last recitation. It had slats nailed across the top, and from
+its dark recesses came strange sounds. Allan stared. The sounds
+resolved themselves into the plaintive mewings of a kitten, and Allan
+recollected his request to his mother--a request long since forgotten
+by him, but evidently well remembered by her. He tore off a couple of
+the slats and lifted out a six-weeks-old kitten.
+
+It was a pathetic little white object, with two black spots on its back
+and weak-looking pale blue eyes which blinked inquiringly at him. Its
+mouth opened, and the appealing cry was repeated. Allan set it down and
+raced for the kitchen. When he returned, he carried a huge bowl of milk.
+
+The kitten was roaming disconsolately about the floor, but at sight
+of the milk trotted up, and apparently strove to commit suicide by
+overeating--an intention frustrated by Allan, who removed the bowl
+finally and took the kitten into his lap in front of the fire. It
+seemed to have suddenly grown to twice its size, and instead of the
+heart-rending mews, Allan heard a faint but enthusiastic purring as
+the poor little object curled itself up in his arm and blinked its
+gratitude. Presently it went fast asleep and, rather than disturb it,
+Allan sat there for almost an hour, with his books just out of reach.
+
+That evening they named it. Tommy wanted something patriotic: Erskine,
+he thought, was just the thing. Hal showed the possession of an
+unsuspected streak of sentiment and clamored for Hortense. Allan,
+recollecting the fact that the mother's name was Edith Cinnamon, was
+in favor of calling the offspring Clove or Nutmeg. But Pete, who had
+been gravely examining the kitten at arm's length, took his pipe from
+between his lips, and with the stem tapped the two black spots on its
+back.
+
+"Two Spot," he said, with finality.
+
+Two Spot it was. And a few days later neither of the others would have
+changed the name for any consideration, since, as Tommy sadly expressed
+it, "Poor old Pete had named her."
+
+That first day of December was memorable not only for the arrival of
+Two Spot, but for the first gathering at Pete's club table. Of those
+beside our friends who composed the table, it is not necessary to speak
+at any length.
+
+Poor we already know very slightly. Wolcott, Cooper, Van Sciver, and
+Maitland were average fellows who had gained prestige for one reason or
+another, among their companions. It was a fact that Pete had succeeded
+in gathering together what might have been called the pick of the
+freshman class. That he had been able to do so was partly because of
+his tact and powers of persuasion and partly because freshman club
+tables were so seldom formed at Erskine that the project had the flavor
+of the unusual.
+
+Dinner was the first meal, and it was a very jolly one. There were one
+or two introductions to be made, and these Pete performed with his
+usual breeziness. After that the eight members sat down, Pete thumped
+the bell commandingly, and the table began its official existence--an
+existence which endured for four college years.
+
+By the time the roast beef and vegetables made their appearance the ice
+was very thoroughly broken. When the cabinet-pudding and fruit came on,
+good-fellowship reigned supreme, and long after the last plate had been
+pushed aside the members still sat about the table, as though loath to
+leave. It is doubtful if there was a single one of them who did not,
+mentally at least, thank Pete Burley for including him in his club
+table.
+
+One gusty winter afternoon, four days later, Pete appeared at Allan's
+room at about three o'clock. He wore his thickest sweater and a pair
+of woolen gloves.
+
+"I'm going up to see the Guilds. Want to come along?"
+
+"You know plaguey well I can't," said Allan, impatiently. "I've got
+all this stuff to do." He indicated the litter of books and papers
+hopelessly. Somehow, of late the Midyears had seemed perilously near.
+
+"Sorry. I'll tell 'em you said 'How.' I think I'll take a boat and row
+up."
+
+"You'll what?" gasped Allan. "Why, it's an easy three miles by the
+river."
+
+"_That's_ all right; I feel like a little exercise."
+
+"You're a chump if you do," answered the other, irritably. "How'll you
+get the boat back?"
+
+"I'll let it stay there, maybe. Maybe I'll come back in it after
+dinner. It's easy enough to get down-stream."
+
+"Not in the dark. You'll drown your fool self."
+
+"Oh, I guess not. Sorry you can't come along."
+
+"I'm not," muttered Allan, as the door closed. "Pete's a perfect idiot
+lately."
+
+After dinner the wind increased into a very respectable gale, and Allan
+fell to wondering whether Pete would be fool enough to attempt the trip
+back in the boat. At nine o'clock his uneasiness drove him forth. He
+fought his way down Main Street to Center, and so around to Pete's
+lodgings. Lights in the windows reassured him, and he had half a mind
+to go back to his studies, but after a moment's indecision he decided
+to go up for just a moment and tell Pete again what an idiot he had
+been. So he climbed the stairs and thrust open the door. At the table
+stood Tommy.
+
+"Oh!" he said, "I thought you were Pete."
+
+"Isn't he here?" asked Allan.
+
+"No; I don't know where he is."
+
+"I do," Allan replied. Tommy was plainly uneasy when he learned of
+Pete's trip. The two stayed until almost eleven. Then, as Pete had not
+returned, they went home together.
+
+"He's probably decided to stay there all night," said Allan, hopefully.
+"Like as not, they wouldn't let him come back."
+
+"I guess that's it," answered Tommy. "Pete wouldn't be such a fool,
+anyhow, as to try and come down the river on a night like this."
+
+But despite his words, Allan went to sleep feeling not a little
+worried, and awoke the next morning with a feeling of impending
+misfortune. Pete was not in the dining-hall, but it was after eleven
+o'clock before Allen had an opportunity to make inquiries. When he did,
+he could find no news of his friend. No one had seen him that morning.
+Allan cut a recitation and hurried down to Pete's rooms. The bed had
+not been occupied. Allan returned to the yard fighting against fear.
+
+At three he heard the news from Hal, who, white of face, was waiting
+him on the porch.
+
+"It's--it's all up with p-poor old Pete," he announced, with his mouth
+working tremulously. "They found the boat he had a mile down the river.
+It--it was capsized!"
+
+Allan felt his own face go pale, but after a moment he muttered:
+
+"Pete could swim like a fish; you know that."
+
+Hal shook his head.
+
+"Then why hasn't he showed up?" he asked, hopelessly. "No, he's a
+goner. You remember what he said about premonitions and things going to
+happen to him? I guess he was right, Allan. Poor old Pete! They--they
+found his hat, too, down by the wharves."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+TOMMY CORRECTS A REPORT
+
+
+Allan was almost the last of Pete's friends to give up hope; but when,
+by the next morning, Pete had neither returned nor had news of him been
+received, even Allan accepted the general belief. The janitor at the
+boat-house readily identified the overturned boat, while as for the
+hat, which had washed ashore at the foot of Main Street, even if Allan
+and Hal had been in doubt about it, there was still Pete's initials
+marked on the inside. Inquiry at Hillcrest had elicited the information
+that Pete had never reached there.
+
+The Guilds were deeply concerned, and Mr. Guild not only added a sum
+to that offered by the college for the recovery of the body, but
+himself took charge of a boat which all the next day dragged the river
+between his place and Centerport. The drowned body, however, was
+never recovered--a fact which surprised nobody, since the current is
+capricious, and the stream so broad as to preclude the possibility of
+searching every foot of its bed.
+
+The accepted theory was that Pete had encountered a sudden squall while
+crossing the river which had either swamped the boat or overturned it.
+Although Pete was known to have been a capable swimmer and a fellow of
+more than ordinary strength, yet the fact that he had failed to win the
+shore from midstream, weighted down as he had been with heavy clothing,
+was not considered strange.
+
+A telegram was at once despatched to Pete's father in Colorado, and,
+since that did not elicit a reply by the following forenoon, a second
+message was sent. The death was announced in the city papers with much
+detail, and Pete's athletic prowess was highly exaggerated. The Erskine
+Purple, which appeared the second day after the accident, contained a
+half-column notice of the sad affair, in which Pete's many estimable
+qualities were feelingly set forth. Tommy wrote the notice himself,
+and, as he felt every word he wrote, the article was a very touching
+tribute.
+
+The club table was a subdued and sorrowful place for several days.
+Pete's chair stood pathetically empty until, in desperation, Allan put
+it away. But as a head to the table was essential, an informal election
+was taken two days after Pete's disappearance, and Wolcott was elevated
+to the place of honor. A meeting of the freshman class was called and a
+committee was appointed to draw up resolutions of sorrow, to be sent
+to Pete's father and to be published in the Purple.
+
+When, after the second day of search, the tug-boat commissioned by the
+college to drag for the body abandoned its work, the first depression
+had passed and the college by degrees returned to its usual spirits.
+But Allan and Hal and Tommy were not so speedily resigned. Tommy, in
+especial, took the event hard.
+
+Perhaps it had been the utter dissimilarity of Pete's nature and his
+own which had drawn him to Pete. That as may be, Tommy was a very
+grave-faced little chap in those days.
+
+But Allan, if he showed less grief, was sadly depressed. He had not
+realized before how much he had grown to care in six weeks for the big,
+good-hearted Westerner. He felt terribly lonely, and besides he blamed
+himself for not having accompanied Pete; perhaps, he thought dolefully,
+had he gone along, the accident wouldn't have happened, and Pete would
+have been sitting there now across the table, puffing lazily at his
+evil-smelling corn-cob pipe. But instead of Pete there was only Tommy
+and Hal--and Two Spot.
+
+Two Spot, grown greatly in bulk since her advent, was snuggled against
+Tommy's arm. Outside it was blowing a gale and lashing the rain against
+the long windows. It was a most depressing afternoon, and the spirits
+of the three friends were at a low ebb. Tommy looked now and then as
+though a good cry would do him worlds of good. Hal scowled morosely and
+drummed irritatingly on the arm of the Morris chair until Allan, in
+desperation, begged him to "cut it out." It was at this juncture that
+Tommy let fall a remark that set Allan thinking hard.
+
+"Poor old Pete got what he was after, though, didn't he?" asked Tommy,
+breaking a silence of several minutes' duration.
+
+"What's that?" asked Allan.
+
+"Don't you remember the bet he and I made?" Tommy replied. "Well,
+he got his name on the first page of the Purple, after all. Wish he
+hadn't."
+
+"That's so," said Hal. "I'd forgotten about that bet. I guess you'll
+have to pay that wager to us, Tommy, and we'll drink to Pete's memory."
+
+Allan, his heart thumping wildly, looked at the other fellows' faces,
+but it was quite evident that the wild surmise which had come to him
+had not occurred to them. He pushed back his chair abruptly and went to
+the window.
+
+Was it possible? he asked himself. Surely, Pete would not have gone to
+such a length merely to win a bet! And yet--Pete was Pete; what another
+fellow would do was no criterion when it came to Pete's conduct.
+Allan's heart was racing and thumping now. The more he considered the
+affair in the light of Tommy's remark the more plausible seemed the
+startling theory which had assailed him. He turned to blurt out his
+suspicions to the others, then hesitated. If he should prove to be
+wrong, he would regret charging Pete with such madness. Perhaps he had
+better keep his own counsel for a while longer.
+
+To you, respected reader, who have all along known, or at least
+suspected, the truth of the matter, it probably seems strange
+that Allan should not have instantly realized the hoax. I have no
+explanation to offer in his behalf. He was still in doubt when Fate, in
+the not uncommon semblance of a postman, came to his relief.
+
+When he answered the landlady's tap on his door, he received a letter
+the mere sight of which set all his doubts at rest. The envelope
+was postmarked Hastings--Hastings is a small city eighteen miles
+down the river from Centerport--and the round, schoolboy writing was
+unmistakably Pete's.
+
+Tommy and Hal glanced around when the door opened, but paid no
+attention while Allan tore open the envelope and rushed through the two
+pages of writing inside. They only awoke to the fact that something had
+happened when Allan, waving the sheet above his head, gave vent to a
+blood-curdling yell of joy that sent Two Spot scuttling out of Tommy's
+arms and under the dresser.
+
+"What is it?" they cried in unison.
+
+Allan waved the letter again ecstatically.
+
+"It's a letter from him!"
+
+"Him? Who?"
+
+"_Pete!_"
+
+To attempt to describe the subsequent confusion would be absurd. Only
+a wide-awake phonograph could do it. Two chairs were overturned, Tommy
+screeched, Hal roared, Allan yelled back. The letter waved in air. Then
+Tommy danced an impromptu jig and, being quite unconscious that he was
+doing it, did it with much grace. Unfortunately none noticed it. Hal
+was struggling for the letter. Allan was fighting to keep possession
+of it. Tommy danced on. Occasionally he shrieked. His shriek was not
+nearly so pleasant as his dancing. After many moments comparative quiet
+settled and three breathless fellows gathered at the window while
+Allan, holding the precious document in his hands, read aloud. This is
+what they heard, leaving out, for the sake of clearness, the frequent
+interpolations of the listeners:
+
+    HASTINGS HOUSE, HASTINGS, _Dec. 7, 1903_.
+
+    DEAR ALLAN--I guess you weren't fooled, but anyhow it may be
+    best, in case you are getting worried, to write and let you
+    know that I am still alive and kicking like a steer. I would
+    have written before, but only got a copy of the Purp this
+    morning. It was fine. Tell Tommy he did nobly. I know it was
+    Tommy wrote it because of the poetry. I'm going to have that
+    front page framed for my descendants to look upon. They'll know
+    then what a noble youth I was.
+
+    I'm leaving here for New York to-night. The old man's there.
+    I'm not stuck on telling him about it, you can bet. He will
+    be rip-snorting mad. I had to drown myself when I did because
+    I got a letter saying he was going to be in New York a couple
+    of weeks, and I knew he wouldn't get any telegrams or things
+    announcing my sad death. I don't guess they'll let me come back
+    to college, and I don't care very much, except that I hate to
+    say good-by to you and Hal and Tommy. But I'll see you again
+    before I go home, unless they are easy on me, which doesn't
+    seem likely, does it?
+
+    You see, I rowed up to Harwich, turned the boat over and set
+    it adrift, and tossed my hat after it. I had another inside my
+    coat. Then I walked to Williamsport and took the train back to
+    this place. I've been here ever since. It's a dull hole. But I
+    had to wait for the Purple to make sure I hadn't slipped up.
+    I suppose there was a lot of trouble. I'm sorry if I worried
+    you fellows, but life was getting duller than ditch-water and
+    something had to be done. I wish you would go down to my room
+    and pack up the things that are lying around.
+
+    Tell Tommy I'll come back some day for that dinner, and that
+    it's got to be a good one. Maybe, if you have time, you'll
+    write and tell me how you all are. It seems like I hadn't seen
+    you for a month. Address me, Care Thomas A. Burley, Fifth
+    Avenue Hotel, New York. You fellows have got to come out to
+    Colorado this summer and visit me if they don't let me come
+    back to college. If you don't, I'll arise from my watery grave
+    and haunt you. Say "How" to Hal and Tommy, and don't forget
+    your poor old
+
+    UNCLE PETE.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The news astonished everybody save the Dean, who had already begun
+to smell a rat. Astonishment gave place to relief or joy, according
+to the hearer's degree of intimacy with Pete, and joy gave place to
+resentment. It is rather annoying to lavish regret over the taking-off
+of a friend only to discover that the friend has worked a deliberate
+hoax on you and is still alive to enjoy your confusion. That is why,
+had Pete put in an appearance at Erskine at that time, he would in all
+probability have been mobbed.
+
+But Pete didn't appear, and ultimately resentment gave place to
+amusement. The general attitude became one of laughing disapproval.
+After all, Pete was Pete, and even if he had harrowed their feelings
+considerably at the same time he had supplied interest at a dull season
+and had worked nobody any harm. This reasoning may have appealed to
+the faculty as well. At all events, their verdict, when announced, was
+thought to be amazingly merciful. Peter Burley '07 was suspended for
+the balance of the term. As there remained less than four weeks of the
+term, the penalty would be of short duration.
+
+Allan and Hal were delighted, and even Tommy, after the first day or
+two of rampant rage, grudgingly acknowledged that he was glad Pete
+was coming back. This was also after Tommy had written a denial for
+the Purple of that paper's announcement of Pete's death. That denial
+was very, very simple and brief. There was no mention made of Pete's
+many excellent qualities, nor did it express exuberant joy over
+his restoration. It merely stated that the announcement had proved
+erroneous and that Mr. Peter Burley was visiting relatives in New York
+city.
+
+When Allan or Hal mentioned that announcement, Tommy went purple in
+the face and fell to stuttering. Perhaps, as Allan pointed out, it was
+just as well he stuttered, since what he had to say was really unfit
+for polite ears. But Tommy's anger was too intense to last, and by the
+middle of the month he was able to smile wanly at Pete's deception. The
+awarding to him of a two-hundred-dollar scholarship helped, perhaps,
+to restore his good humor. Hal said the scholarship would come in very
+handy in paying for the dinner.
+
+Pete wrote that he had heard the faculty's verdict, and was glad they
+were going to let him come back. He was leaving New York for home as
+he wrote, to be gone until the opening of the winter term. By reading
+between the lines, Allan surmised that Pete's father had not been
+over-much pleased with his son's escapade; there were signs of a
+chastened spirit.
+
+The term wore itself to a close, and one sunshiny morning Allan and Hal
+and Tommy left Centerport for their respective homes, traveling the
+first part of the journey in company. Two Spot, apparently indifferent
+to the separation, was confided to Mrs. Purdy, and spent the Christmas
+holidays in the neighborhood of the kitchen range.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+PETE WRITES HOME
+
+
+"Of course," said Allan, "we're not terribly poor, but it's going to
+make a good deal of difference to us."
+
+The new term was three days old and Allan and Pete were sitting in
+front of the stove in Pete's study. The stove was a recent addition
+to the furnishings, and installed more in deference to his friends'
+demands than from any desire of his own. Pete didn't mind a little
+cold; just so long as he could find enough water under the ice in
+the pitcher to wash with, he was satisfied. But Allan and Hal and
+Tommy made disparaging remarks about his heating arrangements and
+ostentatiously kept their hats and coats on while visiting him, and so
+Pete bought a base-burner and a half ton of coal.
+
+"What mine is it?" asked Pete.
+
+"The Gold Beetle. Ever hear of it? It's out in your State."
+
+"Is it at Rico?" asked Pete.
+
+"Yes, that's the place. Didn't you say you were there last summer?"
+
+"Yes, and I know--something about the mine." Pete looked thoughtfully
+at the flames dancing behind the mica. "Fact is," he continued, "the
+old man is interested in it."
+
+"Really? Then don't you think it will be all right? He wouldn't have
+anything to do with a poor mine, would he?"
+
+"Well, the trouble is you can't always tell whether a mine's good or
+bad. The old man's got stock in all kinds; some of it's good, some of
+it isn't worth the paper it's printed on. I've got a lot of that kind
+myself. I used to think I was something of an investor. Now, this Gold
+Beetle; what's probably happened to that is that the pay ore has given
+out. It very often does. A mine'll run thousands to the ton for two or
+three years, sometimes twenty, and then all of a sudden the lode will
+just naturally peter out. I guess that's what's happened to the Beetle.
+I remember pretty well how it lies. There are paying properties all
+around it, and maybe if they went on or opened up new drifts they'd
+come across fresh lodes; or maybe they wouldn't; it's just a gamble. I
+dare say the stockholders aren't willing to put any money into it. How
+much stock do your folks hold?"
+
+"I don't know exactly. Pretty nearly half of it, I think."
+
+"Too bad! I'll ask the old man, when I write, what he thinks about it."
+
+"I wish you would. Maybe if he owns some of it we could--could kind of
+get together and--and do something," said Allan, vaguely but hopefully.
+
+"Maybe," answered Pete, thoughtfully. "Meanwhile----"
+
+"Meanwhile I've got to find some way of making a little money; enough
+to pay my board, at any rate. And that's why I ought to leave the
+table, Pete, and go back to commons, where I can feed for less."
+
+"But we can't let you do that. Now, look here; you don't eat very much.
+What's the sense in your paying as much as I do, who eat twice as much?
+That's plumb foolish! I ought to pay at least eight dollars and you
+oughtn't to pay a red cent over four; and that's the way it's going to
+be after this."
+
+"No, it isn't," Allan replied. "If I stay, I'll pay my share, and
+that's six dollars, Pete. I went over yesterday to see if I couldn't
+get a place in Brown Hall as a waiter, but there aren't any vacancies;
+they told me they had two applications for every place."
+
+"But you wouldn't like to wait on table, would you?"
+
+"It isn't a question of liking. I've heard tell of lots of ways of
+earning money in college, but none of them seem very practical for my
+case."
+
+"Well, look here; you figure out how much money you'll need for the
+rest of the year and let me know."
+
+Allan looked puzzled.
+
+"What good would that do?"
+
+"I'll lend it to you. Now, shut up! I haven't offered to give it to
+you, have I, you chump? You can pay me back any time you like; there
+isn't a bit of a hurry. And I've got a whole lot of money in bank from
+last term. Somehow, it's mighty hard to get rid of money up here. You
+needn't say anything to any one about it; it'll just be between you and
+me. That's all right, ain't it?"
+
+"No, it isn't all right, Pete, but it's awfully good of you, and I
+won't forget it in a hurry."
+
+And although Pete threatened and coaxed and called names, he was at
+last forced to abandon the proposition. And in the end it was Tommy
+who, learning of Allan's quandary, made the suggestion which led to a
+measure of success.
+
+"I knew a fellow at school who used to go around to the fellows' rooms
+at night and sell sandwiches and wienerwursts and made good money,"
+said Tommy. "Wouldn't care for that, though, I guess?"
+
+Allan acknowledged that he wouldn't.
+
+"Then there was a fellow I heard of who was agent for a sporting-goods
+firm and sold on commission. He worked up quite a trade, but it took
+him a good while to do it. Then there was a fellow had a rental
+business: rented rooms and got a commission from the landladies; but he
+did most of his business in the fall. Then--" Tommy paused, struck by a
+brilliant thought. "You might try for a place on the Purple," he cried.
+"They elect new men in March. If you got a place, you'd make fair money
+from March on to the end of the year. That's what I did last year, and
+I made enough to pay my board."
+
+"But I don't know anything about reporting, Tommy," Allan objected.
+"Besides, I'm not a hustler like you."
+
+Tommy looked disappointed. He thought for a minute in silence. Then--
+
+"I tell you, Allan," he said, "I'll see Stearns. He's track-team
+captain, you know. I'll tell him that if you don't find something to
+do, you won't be able to stay here. And he won't want to lose you,
+you can bet, because he's set his heart on winning from Robinson this
+spring."
+
+"But I don't know that that would be quite true," Allan objected.
+"Because, even if I don't find any work, maybe I'll be able to hang on
+here somehow to the end of the year."
+
+"Well, I won't lie to him," said Tommy, "but I'll fix him so he'll find
+something; you see if I don't."
+
+He lifted Two Spot off his lap and deposited her on the desk, where she
+subsided contentedly against a pile of books and purred on as though
+nothing had happened.
+
+"Happy little bunch of fur, isn't she?" asked Tommy. "If she's too
+great an expense to you, I'll take her off your hands."
+
+"Indeed, you'll not!" answered Allan. "While there's a loaf left in the
+house, she shall have the crust."
+
+"Scratch him, Kitty! Say, did Pete tell you he'd gone out for the
+freshman hockey team? Won't he be a sight on the ice?"
+
+"He says he can skate," answered Allan. "All I know is, I don't want to
+have the thingamabob--puck--when he's bearing down on me."
+
+"Are you going to play?"
+
+"No; I'd like to, but I guess I won't have time. Besides, I don't skate
+very well."
+
+"Skating isn't everything in hockey," said Tommy, wisely. "I can skate
+myself. I can make the ice look like a picture in a book or a map of
+China; but last year, when I went out for the freshman team, I was
+nearly slaughtered. Leroy butted me into the boards and somebody else
+cracked me over the shins with his stick and another chap tripped
+me up--accidentally, _of_ course--and I slid thirty-one feet or
+thereabouts on my head. The hair didn't grow back for a month. I quit.
+Life was too precious."
+
+"Wise youth!" commented Allan. "But we mustn't miss seeing Pete play.
+Let's go over to the rink to-morrow, if there is any ice."
+
+"All right. And I guess there'll be ice; it's cold enough now to freeze
+a door-knob. Going down to Pete's this evening? I'll see you there,
+then. So long. Good-by, Two Spot, my angel child!"
+
+Tommy's plan bore fruit. Allan had a visit from Walter Stearns next
+day, and two days later Allan was giving two hours out of each
+twenty-four to clerical work in the office of the Erskine College
+Athletic Association.
+
+The work, which consisted chiefly of answering letters from Professor
+Nast's dictation--Professor Nast was chairman of the Athletic
+Committee--was ridiculously easy, if somewhat uninteresting, and seemed
+out of all proportion to the remuneration, which was one dollar an
+hour. There were five working days in the week for Allan, and as a
+result he was earning ten dollars a week--twice as much as he had
+hoped for. And all the time he was disturbed by a haunting thought
+that, when all was said and done, he was not really earning the money.
+But it seemed absurd to find fault with his good fortune so long as his
+employers were satisfied, and so he offered no objections. Afterwards
+he marveled at his blindness.
+
+About this time Pete wrote one of his semi-occasional letters to his
+father. He wasn't much of a letter-writer, and the epistle as a whole
+would not interest us, but a portion of it merits attention.
+
+"I remember (he wrote) that you said in New York you'd been down town
+to a meeting of the Gold Beetle stockholders, and that they had voted
+to stop work on the mine. I didn't know then that Allan's folks were
+interested in it. I guess they haven't dismantled yet, and so it isn't
+too late to change your mind. I guess you have enough stock in it
+to control it; if you haven't, the Wares' shares will give you the
+whip-hand. I want you to have them go ahead with the Gold Beetle and
+fuss round some. A couple of months' work won't break anybody. You can
+charge your share of it up to me. There must be pay ore somewhere on
+the property. Look at all the gold that's coming out all around it.
+Allan's folks need the money. It's about all the income they have. If
+that stops, his sister will have to give up her college, and so will
+Allan. Allan's my side partner, and I'm not going to have him lose
+what property he has without another try. Let me know right away about
+this."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+HOCKEY--WITH VARIATIONS
+
+
+Allan, Tommy, and Hal stood at the side of the rink, up to their ankles
+in snow, and watched Pete play hockey. The rink was built at the
+far end of Erskine Field, and looked, from the locker house, like a
+brand-new cattle-pen.
+
+This Saturday afternoon it was snowing in a half-hearted way, making
+the ice slushy and hiding the town from view. There were about fifty
+other fellows looking on, for the Midyears had begun, and anything
+to take the mind off examinations was welcome. The varsity team had
+traveled down the river to play Hastings High School, and the freshman
+team was making the most of its opportunities.
+
+There were only twelve candidates present, and so the opposing teams
+each lacked a forward. But in spite of this the play was fast and
+furious, making up in enthusiasm what it lacked in science. Pete was
+playing cover-point on the first team, and thus far his performance
+had not lacked of applause. If some of the applause was unmistakably
+sarcastic, still it was applause.
+
+Pete was a hard skater and very much at home on the ice, but there
+wasn't much of grace about him. He hadn't as yet learned the subtleties
+of stick-handling, but he usually managed to get the puck by the simple
+expedient of skating full-tilt against the opponent and knocking him
+down in a good-natured, inoffensive way. Allan, Tommy, and Hal felt,
+as they watched, that they were being fully rewarded for tramping out
+there through the snow.
+
+"Let's see you skate backward, Pete," called Allan in a lull of the
+game. Pete grinned.
+
+"Give us the grape-vine, Pete," begged Tommy. Pete grinned again.
+
+"How are you on the outer-edge, old man?" asked Hal. Pete continued to
+grin.
+
+Then the puck came sliding down toward him, dribbled this way and that
+by the hockey of an opposing forward. Pete drew himself together,
+grasped his stick in both hands as though it was a bludgeon, and rushed
+toward the foe. Down went the foe, and the three admirers laughed
+joyfully. But Pete didn't get the puck, for the vanquished one had
+succeeded in passing it across to another forward, exhibiting the
+first suggestion of team-play of the afternoon, so far as the second
+team was concerned, and Pete skated wildly in pursuit. The point went
+out to meet the attack, another clever pass was made, and then--
+Presto! goal was shaking his head and pulling the disk out from under
+the netting. The second had scored.
+
+"Ah, that was great work, Pete!" cried Allan, admiringly.
+
+"That was _playing_!" said Hal. "Oh, it was great!"
+
+"Real science, _I_ call it!" declared Tommy. "How'd you do it, Pete?"
+
+"Don't you mind their scoring, Pete," said Allan, encouragingly. "You
+knocked your man down. Just you kill all you want to."
+
+Pete skated over and scattered them with his hockey.
+
+"You wait till I get these skates off," he threatened, "and I'll roll
+you three little snipes in the snow!"
+
+"Don't waste your strength on us, Pete," begged Tommy from a safe
+distance. "Slaughter the enemy. Don't be discouraged; there's only six
+left."
+
+"Eat 'em up, Pete!" cried Hal.
+
+Pete shook his stick at them and turned away. As he skated back to his
+position a chorus of admiring "A-a-ahs!" followed him. When the second
+half was almost done the score was 5 to 6, in the first team's favor,
+and the captain of the second, a big, round-faced chap who played
+center, called on his support for a goal.
+
+"Play hard, fellows, and let's tie this!" he commanded. "Play together
+now!"
+
+Fortune seemed to be favoring them. They secured the rubber and swept
+with it down the rink. As usual, Pete put one man out of the play, but
+by the time he had recovered from the check the advance was past him
+and was threatening the goal. Both teams were mixed in wild confusion,
+and the puck was carroming about from goal to attack and from attack to
+defense. Then it was sped knee-high at the net, was luckily stopped by
+the goal, and shot out to the side right at Pete's feet.
+
+Pete started off with it, but was in such a hurry that he overskated,
+and had to fight for it. When he again secured possession the attack
+was thick about him. But he started off again, and the forwards of
+his side skated to their positions. Pete kept close to the boards,
+fooled the opposing cover-point by carroming the puck against them, and
+for an instant had a clear shot at goal. But shooting wasn't Pete's
+specialty, and so he charged on until, well past the center of the
+ice, the second team's captain charged him fiercely from the side,
+hurling him against the boards and knocking his stick into the air.
+
+Luckily, the puck struck the adversary's skate and carromed back to the
+side, and Pete, thrusting his skate against it, held it there while the
+other pushed and shoved with his body and tried to work the puck loose
+with his stick. About them hovered friend and foe, awaiting the instant
+when the disk should slide out of the _m�l�e_.
+
+The second-team player fought like mad and at last, by a fierce
+shove, moved Pete's foot. Pete, fearing loss of the precious prize,
+swung quickly around, bringing his adversary to the boards, and then,
+catching him with one hand at the knee, tipped him over the barrier
+into the soft snow.
+
+[Illustration: Pete tipped him over the barrier.]
+
+Without waiting to see him safely landed, Pete rescued the puck from
+an interloping enemy and went straight down the rink with it, scorning
+friend and foe alike, and drove it furiously into goal. When he swung
+around and looked back, it seemed that a devastating gale had swept
+over the rink, for along his route first-team men and second-team men
+were picking themselves up from the ice. But what surprised him more
+was the appearance of the second's captain, who, snow-covered, black
+of face and scowling, was swaggering up to him.
+
+"What did you do that for?" he growled.
+
+From the sides of the rink came shouts of laughter. Allan, Hal, and
+Tommy were hanging feebly over the barrier, beating the planks with
+their hands in gasping impotence.
+
+"Do what?" asked Pete, plainly at a loss.
+
+"Throw me over the boards," answered the other, belligerently.
+
+"Oh, that?" asked Pete. "Why, you were in my way, you see."
+
+"You shouldn't have done that, Burley," said the first team's captain.
+"But you needn't try and scrap here on the ice," he continued, turning
+to the other. "Play the game!"
+
+"Look here," said Pete, "wasn't that all right? Mustn't I do that?"
+
+"Of course you can't. You ought to know the rules. The puck goes back
+there again." The first's captain turned away impatiently.
+
+"It's on me, partner," said Pete. "Sorry, and hope I didn't hurt you."
+
+"All right," muttered the other, as graciously as he could. The
+knowledge that he had served as a source of intense amusement prevented
+him from putting much cordiality into his tones. The puck was taken
+back to where Pete had transgressed the rules, and again faced off by
+him and the second's captain. The latter got possession and the play
+went on, but to the onlookers it was very dull, and none cared when,
+after a minute or two, the game came to an end.
+
+Allan, Hal, and Tommy, still very red of face and still grinning,
+awaited Pete and escorted him back to the college in triumph, Hal
+marching ahead and chanting an improvised p�an of praise until Pete
+seized him and rolled him over in the snow. Thereupon Hal retired to a
+safe distance and threw snowballs at Pete. He was not, however, a very
+good shot and, as a result, Tommy and Allan were hit more often than
+their companion. It ended with the three joining forces against the
+obnoxious Hal and chasing him all the way down Poplar Street.
+
+When he reached Mrs. Purdy's, in his retreat, he withdrew into Allan's
+room, locked the door, and sent Two Spot, a white handkerchief tied
+around her neck, out by way of a window, to treat with the besiegers.
+The flag of truce was respected. Hal opened the window and agreed
+to surrender if allowed to march forth from the citadel with colors
+flying, and his terms were accepted. He retired from view and presently
+reappeared in Allan's plaid dressing-gown, and holding aloft a Hillton
+flag. Silently and proudly he marched forth and twice paraded the
+piazza. Then the enemy, violating the rules of warfare, fell upon him
+as one man, and he was borne, struggling and kicking, back into the
+citadel and deposited on the couch.
+
+Allan returned to the front yard and rescued his handkerchief, which
+was trailing in the snow as Two Spot chased an imaginary mouse around
+the bare and solitary rose-bush. Tommy had meanwhile poked the fire
+into a blaze, and victors and vanquished drew up to it, while Pete
+smoked the pipe of peace and the others ate sweet chocolate, which, as
+Tommy pointed out, represented the fruits of victory.
+
+Two Spot sat on Pete's broad knee and purred and blinked at the flames
+and occasionally stuck her claws tentatively through Pete's trousers as
+a proof of her affection. And everybody felt very jolly and comfortable
+until the six-o'clock bell sent them to prepare for dinner.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+IN THE "CORRAL"
+
+
+While the snow kept piling itself up and the Midyears were still
+racking fellows' brains, the call came for candidates for the relay
+team to run against Robinson at the Boston indoor meeting. And
+simultaneously the outdoor track was shoveled free of snow and fellows
+whose ambitions pointed toward the winning of pewter mugs trotted out
+in the afternoons, when the mercury was down to zero, and sped around
+the track with their bare legs looking very pink and cold. Kernahan
+had induced Allan to enter for both the mile and the two mile, and the
+latter was one of the most indefatigable of those who daily risked
+death by freezing.
+
+He was glad to be able to stretch his legs again, was Allan. He had
+begun to wonder whether the muscles hadn't forgotten how to work. He
+had his first mile trial a week after the beginning of practise and a
+fortnight before the date of the meeting.
+
+The result wasn't especially satisfactory; 4:56 was not anywhere near
+record time for that track, while it was more than twenty seconds
+slower than what it must be to give him a chance at winning a place.
+But Kernahan seemed in nowise discouraged. Instead, he told Allan he
+had done well enough for a starter, and promised to give him a trial at
+the two miles a week later.
+
+Meanwhile the relay candidates were tested and sifted, the candidates
+for the field events practised daily in the gymnasium, and athletic
+activity seized upon the college. The baseball cage resounded with
+the thump of the balls and the cries of the players, the rowing-room
+gave forth strange sounds of an afternoon, and the basket-ball team,
+undisputed lords of the gymnasium floor for two months, were hustled
+into a corner and given scant attention.
+
+And yet, in spite of all these hints, Winter was strangely dense.
+Instead of folding up his blanket of snow and taking himself off, he
+showed no sign of contemplated departure, but on the contrary tightened
+his icy grip on the world, and almost every day sent a new snow-storm
+to emphasize the fact that he still reigned.
+
+Afternoon practise on the track took place in every sort of weather.
+Sometimes it snowed so hard that the runners, as they swept around the
+far end of the track, were only indistinct blurs in the white mist.
+Sometimes the track was sheeted with a rough skim of ice, through
+which the men's spikes broke imperfectly, and on such days the spills
+were numerous and the turns were things to be carefully negotiated.
+Sometimes the sun shone and the wind blew, straight and cold, out of
+the northeast; and such times were best, deluding one for a while, as
+they did, into thinking that winter's sway was drawing to its end. But
+they were deceitful moments, and one could fancy old Winter shaking
+his lean sides with laughter as he drew the clouds together again and
+emptied a new shower of flakes upon the bleak world.
+
+But matters progressed. The relay team of six runners was formed, the
+sprinters and distance men worked themselves into condition, and the
+hurdlers, jumpers, vaulters, and weight men limbered up their muscles.
+
+A week before the meeting Allan was given a speed trial for the two
+miles. The track was in fairly good condition, and Rindgely and
+Thatcher made the pace. With Allan was another two-mile candidate,
+named Conroy. Allan took the lead at the start and held it for the
+first half mile. Rindgely went in then and made the pace for the next
+three-quarters, and then gave place to Thatcher, a half-miler. Conroy
+was a lap behind at the half distance, and at the finish was entirely
+out of it. Allan found his sprinting ability sorely tried in the last
+two laps when Thatcher let himself out and Allan tried to keep up with
+him. But he finished fairly strong, and Kernahan slipped his watch into
+his pocket with a nod of approval.
+
+"Ten, one and an eighth," he said.
+
+But that seemed slow time to Allan, who had entertained visions of
+doing the distance in something like 9:50, and he said so to Billy.
+
+"Well, that's good enough to give you a chance of a place," he
+answered. "You've got three months yet before the dual meet, and
+Robinson's best two-miler could only do--9:46, I think it was. You'll
+get some experience at the Boston meet, if you don't bring home a mug,
+and experience is what you need. You'll have to get into your pace
+sooner down there or you'll get crowded off the track. You try half a
+dozen starts Monday and try getting your pace in the first six or eight
+strides. You'd better run along now, and don't be scarey of the cold
+water, my boy."
+
+During that next week the class hockey championship was decided. The
+freshmen won handily from the sophomores by the score of seven goals
+to three in the first of the contests, and to Pete went the credit for
+four of the seven goals. He played magnificently.
+
+To be sure, as has been said already, he knew little of the science of
+the game, but what he lacked there he made up in vigor and enthusiasm.
+Thrice he was put off the ice for short periods, but this only caused
+him to work harder when he was allowed to re-enter the game. In the
+second half--the first period having ended with the score three to four
+in favor of '07--he was played up into the forward line, and when he
+secured the puck and once got away with it, it was his until he had
+shot at the sophomores' goal. If Pete had been able to shoot as well as
+he skated and dodged the enemy, the score would have been overwhelming.
+
+But Pete's Waterloo came when the deciding game was contested with '04.
+Pete's playing was just as hard and fast as before, but the seniors had
+two or three players who, in the language of Tommy, "made rings around
+him." Every time Pete tried one of his sensational rushes, some one or
+other of the discourteous enemy, carefully avoiding his body, stole the
+puck from under his nose. Pete endured it for a while untroubled, then
+he began to break hockeys. But the supply seemed unlimited, and the
+remedy wasn't successful. Defeat fell to '07's share.
+
+They tried to tease Pete on the afternoon's performance that evening,
+but Pete was invulnerable to gibes. The four had congregated in the
+"corral" and were hugging the stove closely, Pete sitting astride the
+stock saddle which, for want of a chair, he had lugged from its corner.
+
+"Must have cost you something for sticks," Tommy suggested.
+
+"Must have cost the other fellows something," laughed Hal. "I saw
+Rindgely lose three. You were a destructive chap, Pete."
+
+"Rindgely was plumb crazy," answered Pete, with a broad smile. "Every
+time he got a new stick, I bust it for him. I don't just know whether
+that's good hockey, but I know it worked mighty well. But Rindgely's
+got it in for me, all right."
+
+"He seems to have it in for me too," said Allan, thoughtfully. "The
+other day he didn't want to make pace for me when I tried the two
+miles, and acted nasty as you like afterward in the locker house."
+
+"He's a queer customer," said Tommy. "A pretty good fellow to keep away
+from. I don't mean that there's anything wrong with him, you know, but
+he's awfully uncertain. You never can tell how he's going to take a
+thing. Just after recess I met him one day, and asked him if he'd taken
+in the St. Thomas Club Indoor Meet--he lives in Brooklyn, you know--and
+he nearly took my head off; said he wasn't home Christmas, and implied
+that it was none of my business. I told him I didn't care a rap where
+he was."
+
+"That's right, Tommy; don't you let them monkey with you," laughed
+Allan.
+
+"Well, what did he want to jump on me for?" asked Tommy, warmly. "I
+didn't care whether he went to the old meet or not; I just wanted to be
+polite. The reason I mentioned the meet was that he'd told about going
+the year before while he was at home, and I just happened to remember
+seeing something about it before Christmas. It's an open meeting, you
+know, and they have a big card--weights, team races, boxing, and all
+sorts of stunts."
+
+"What is he, a miler?" asked Hal.
+
+Tommy nodded.
+
+"Guess that explains his cutting up with you, Allan; you beat him in
+the fall, didn't you?"
+
+"Yes, with a good big handicap."
+
+"Well, he's afraid you're going to cut him out of a place in the dual
+meet."
+
+"There's no good reason why he should think so. He can beat me, I'm
+pretty sure. Besides, if Billy Kernahan has his way, I'll be down only
+for the two miles at the dual."
+
+"We're going to have a dandy article on the indoor meeting this week,"
+said Tommy.
+
+"Wrote it yourself, eh?" suggested Hal.
+
+"I suppose it will be like last year's, though," Tommy continued,
+ruefully. "We had two columns, with everything figured out finely: who
+was going to do what, and which fellows would win places. And then it
+came out all wrong."
+
+"Say, Thomas," said Pete, when the laughter had subsided, "I don't want
+to hurry you, but I'm getting the powerful hungers."
+
+"Yes, Tommy, how about that dinner at the Elm Tree?" chimed in Hal.
+
+"He's making money to pay for it," said Allan.
+
+"No, I'm not," answered Tommy, sadly. "That's the trouble. You'll have
+to wait a bit, Pete; I'm dead broke, honest Injun!"
+
+"All right; just so long as I get that feed. Better not put it off too
+long, though; I'm nicely conditioned, you know, since the Midyears, and
+there's no telling what may happen to me."
+
+"That's so," Allan said. "A fellow that's been drowned, suspended,
+and put on probation, all in two short months, is a pretty slippery
+customer."
+
+"Say, Allan," said Tommy, reminiscently, "do you remember the night we
+waited up here for that duffer to come home?"
+
+"The night he was drowned?" asked Allan. "Never'll forget it. The way
+the wind howled and cut up was a caution; made me think of graveyards
+and--and corpses."
+
+"Me, too," said Tommy. "I went back to the room and dreamed of Pete
+floating in my bath-tub, with his old smelly pipe in his mouth and his
+face all white and horrid. Every time he puffed on the pipe he winked
+his eye at me, and I woke up yelling like a good one." Tommy arose from
+his seat and stood gazing into the flames. "It was a beast of a dream."
+
+"Must have been," Hal responded, sympathetically. Pete puffed silently
+at the afore-mentioned pipe and grinned heartlessly. Tommy glanced over
+at him and commenced an aimless ramble about the room.
+
+"I said then," he went on, "that if Pete-- Say, it's getting beastly
+hot in here. Let's have the door open."
+
+In spite of the protests, he opened the portal into the narrow hallway,
+and continued his rambling and his talk.
+
+"I made up my mind then that if Pete wasn't drowned, that if I ever saw
+his dear, foolish, homely face again, I'd--I'd----"
+
+"Be a better man," Hal suggested.
+
+"Learn to write English," offered Allan.
+
+"Pay your debts," muttered Pete over his pipe-stem.
+
+"_I'd take a fall out of him!_" concluded Tommy, savagely. At the
+same instant he put a hand under Pete's chin, tipped him heels over
+head backward onto the floor, smothered his outcries by banging the
+saddle down over his face, punched him twice in the ribs--and flew!
+His forethought in opening the door saved him. As he dived through he
+slammed it behind him in Pete's face, and the others heard four wild
+leaps on the staircase. Then all was still save for Pete's chuckles.
+But stay! What sound was that from beneath the window; what doleful
+wailings broke upon the night air? They hearkened.
+
+"Cowardy, cowardy, cowardy cat!" shrilled Tommy. "Dare you to come
+down, Pete Burley!"
+
+Pete threw up a front window. There was a sound of hasty footfalls and
+an exclamation as Tommy collided with an ash-barrel. Then from far up
+the street came a last defiant challenge: "_O Fresh!_"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+THE INDOOR MEETING
+
+
+Mechanics' Hall, Boston, was filled from floor to gallery, from doors
+to stage. The hum of voices, the fluttering of programs, the slow
+bellow of the announcer as, with megaphone at mouth, he gave the result
+of the events, made a strange medley of sound.
+
+From one corner of the floor to another there ran diagonally a
+lime-marked lane. Since half past seven white-trunked figures had
+rushed, half a dozen at a time, down this lane at top speed, had flung
+themselves panting, with outstretched arms, against the mattresses at
+the end, and had turned and trotted back to the dressing-rooms.
+
+The supply had seemed inexhaustible. Heat after heat had been run in
+the Forty Yards Novice, heat after heat in the Forty Yards Invitation,
+heat after heat in the Forty Yards Handicap, and now the hurdles were
+in place, the pistol was cracking forth, and white-clad forms were
+flying breathlessly over the bars and breasting the red string at the
+finish.
+
+At each report of the pistol the center gallery leaped to its feet, the
+hurdlers sprang into sight from below and sped away like arrows across
+the yellow floor. Hurdles crashed, the crowd shouted, the racers flung
+their arms at the tape and collapsed against the padded wall at the
+end of the lane, and the center gallery sank into its seats again and
+rustled its programs. And the announcer lifted his crimson trumpet:
+
+"Forty-five Yards Hurdles--fourth heat won by No. 390, No. 3 second;
+time, 6-2/5 seconds."
+
+There were dozens of colleges, schools, and associations represented
+there that night, and hundreds of competitors. There was the blue Y of
+Yale, the crimson H of Harvard, the red C of Cornell, the green D of
+Dartmouth, the purple E of Erskine, the brown R of Robinson, and many,
+many other insignia flaunted on heaving breasts.
+
+Thirty-odd officials, in immaculate evening clothes, lent a note of
+sobriety to the colorful scene, while a blue-coated policeman, whose
+duty it was to guard the long table of mugs and tankards, stood out
+intensely against the gleam and glitter of the prizes. On the big
+stage, the sloping bank of watchers looked from the floor like a bed
+of waving somber-hued flowers. From a corner of the balcony came the
+strains of brazen music.
+
+The jumping standards were set and the competitors ranged themselves
+along the edge of the track, their sweaters and dressing-gowns of all
+colors thrown loosely about their bare shoulders. The Clerk of Course
+could be heard at the dressing-room door summoning the men for the next
+event:
+
+"All out for the two miles!"
+
+The sloping corners of the track rang with the footsteps of the
+candidates as they warmed up. There were fifteen entries, and among
+them were men from Harvard, Yale, Cornell, Massachusetts Institute of
+Technology, Phillips Exeter Academy, and Erskine College. Erskine's
+representative was rather nervous as, with his number flapping at
+his back, he was assigned the place at the pole in the front line.
+Beside him was a Cornell runner whose prowess was well known, and
+Allan Ware marveled at his own temerity. Surely, he had no chance
+against the Cornell man, nor, for that matter, against several of the
+others. Well, he would run as well as he knew how and take his beating
+philosophically.
+
+The fact was, that the intense excitement was unnerving him. And that
+was why, when the starter had cried "Set!" Allan dashed forward, taking
+half the line with him. For this misdemeanor he and three others were
+promptly relegated to the last row. Then the command came again and the
+pistol cracked.
+
+At the first turn Allan had to fight to keep from being hustled from
+the track. After the next corner the runners had settled down to their
+work, a New York man making easy pace. Allan was well in front. The
+nervousness had left him now and he had no thought for the cheering
+spectators, for the blaring strains from the band, for anything, in
+short, save the struggle on hand. Lap after lap was reeled off until
+the race was half finished. Allan was still holding his own, with the
+consciousness of much power in reserve. The New York man still kept the
+lead, while close on his heels ran one of the Cornell contingent.
+
+Presently a Yale man fought his way up to Allan, and for half a lap
+they contested fifth place. Then, at a turn, the Yale man took the bank
+and slid into the lead, and Allan was sixth. He expected changes ahead.
+Of course the New York runner would not attempt to keep the lead much
+longer. He would drop back, Allan would overhaul the Yale chap, and in
+the last two laps he would call on the reserve power he was certain he
+had and fight it out to the finish.
+
+He looked back. The nearest runner was several yards away and didn't
+appear dangerous. The relative positions remained unchanged for another
+lap, and then things began to happen.
+
+The Yale man dropped back, a second Cornell man--Allan recognized him
+as the one who had been beside him at the start--spurted into third
+place, and Allan found himself still running fifth. He had lost count
+of the laps, but believed there could not be more than two left.
+
+So he started to crawl up. At the next corner, that by the
+dressing-rooms, he passed the Cornell man who had been second for so
+long; his duty was done and he was easing up on his pace. Down the
+stretch Allan gained on a Technology runner, but failed to pass him.
+Suddenly the gong announcing the last lap clanged. Allan glanced across
+the hall. The New York man was still in the lead, and was increasing
+that lead at every stride.
+
+Allan threw back his head and fought for third place. On the next
+stretch footsteps sounded behind him. At the first corner Allan just
+succeeded in keeping the lead; on the short stretch, a Yale man passed
+him and left him as though standing. It was all up now; he was fifth,
+and there was no chance of bettering his position. The leader, well
+ahead of the Cornell man, was taking the last corner. The Yale man
+who had just passed Allan was taking third place hand over fist.
+The Technology runner was plainly faltering, and yet, thought Allan
+savagely, here was he, with all sorts of power of lung and muscle left,
+dragging along behind him!
+
+He clasped his hands tighter and threw himself forward. Fourth place
+was better than fifth, he told himself, and at least he would not be
+beaten by a man who was ready to fall. So up he went, working as hard
+to beat out the Technology runner as though first place was at stake.
+And beat him he did, and turned off of the track and walked back to the
+dressing-room apparently as untired as when he had started.
+
+"You lost that race," said Kernahan, "when you lost your place in the
+first row. But don't you care; you've learned a thing or two, and one
+of them's to wait for the pistol."
+
+"But I'm not decently winded," Allan complained. "I could run the mile
+now, and yet those chaps beat me."
+
+"Sprinting ability is what you've got to learn, my boy. And with three
+months before the dual----"
+
+"Hang the dual!" said Allan, petulantly. "I wanted to win this."
+
+"Well, there's the mile yet," said Billy, soothingly.
+
+But the mile brought Allan scant satisfaction. He was given a handicap
+of thirty-five yards, and, although this time he was careful to wait
+for the pistol, he came to the conclusion when half the distance was
+run that he might as well drop out of the race. There were almost fifty
+entries, and it seemed less a race than a fast-moving procession. The
+turns were always filled with fellows elbowing and fighting, and after
+the half-distance it was hard to tell who the leaders were, so close
+they were to the tail-enders.
+
+Rindgely and Harris had also entered, and about the only satisfaction
+Allan was able to gather was derived from the fact that he had them
+beaten from the start. But the smaller handicaps allowed those youths
+had something to do with that. Allan never knew what number he was at
+the finish, and didn't much care.
+
+In the dressing-room, Harris, Rindgely, Long, and Monroe--the latter
+the only Erskine entry who had won a place--were finding balm in the
+fact that Robinson hadn't showed up in a single event.
+
+"Wait until the team race, though," said Rindgely, darkly. "That's
+where they'll get us; you'll see."
+
+"Don't believe it," said Harris, stoutly. "When does it come off?"
+
+"After this, I think," said Long. "Who's got a program?"
+
+"That's right," said Monroe. "Hello, Ware! Say, that was a perfect
+mess, wasn't it?"
+
+"Yes, it was," growled Allan. "I never knew whether I was running this
+lap or the last one."
+
+"Or the one ahead," added Harris.
+
+"Thought you were going to do something," said Rindgely. "You had a
+good chance."
+
+"Did I?" Allan responded, with intense sarcasm. "All right, only I
+didn't know it."
+
+"Let's get out of here and see the Harvard and Penn race," Long
+suggested. "Where's our team?"
+
+"They're out there somewhere. Thatcher says we're going to get it put
+all over us," said Allan.
+
+"Thatcher's an old raven," said Harris, as they crowded out to where
+they could watch the race. "If he runs as well as he croaks, we're all
+right."
+
+Harvard secured the race with University of Pennsylvania, and though
+the result was not long in doubt, yet the crimson-clad runners were
+forced to better the record by three-fifths of a second. Then the
+clerk's voice was heard at the dressing-room door:
+
+"All out for Erskine-Robinson Team Race! All out!"
+
+Of Erskine's relay team, only Thatcher, the captain, was an experienced
+runner. The others--Poor, Gibbons, and Tolmann--had earned the right to
+represent the college at the trials, but for all of that were unknown
+quantities. They were all of them, Thatcher included, small men; Poor
+was little over five feet in height, and looked as though he had never
+had enough to eat. As they trotted around the track, getting warmed
+up, Robinson's candidates overtopped them to a man. It was a big,
+long-limbed quartet that Robinson had sent, and had the result depended
+on height and length of leg alone the Brown would have had the race won
+at the start.
+
+Allan had secured a place near the front of the throng at the
+dressing-room door, and beside him, noticeable because of the evening
+clothes which he wore, was one of the officials, an inspector whose
+name was down on the program as "Horace L. Pearson, N. Y. A. C." It was
+while the two teams were still warming up that Allan heard his name
+spoken, and turned to find Mr. Pearson in conversation with Harris.
+
+"Beg your pardon," the inspector was saying, "but the man beyond you
+there is Ware, of your college, isn't he?" But he wasn't looking in
+Allan's direction at all.
+
+"No, sir," answered Harris, "that's Rindgely."
+
+"Sure of it?"
+
+"Quite, sir," replied Harris, smiling.
+
+"Hm! I saw he was down on the card as Rindgely, but I thought maybe it
+was a mistake. What does the other man, Ware, look like?"
+
+"He's here somewhere," said Harris. And then his voice dropped and
+Allan, looking carefully away, felt the inspector's gaze upon his
+face. He wondered what it might mean and why Rindgely had been mistaken
+for him, but his speculation was short-lived, for at that moment the
+pistol cracked and two runners, one with his white shirt crossed with
+a brown silk ribbon and the other bearing a purple E on his breast,
+sprang forward and fought for the lead at the first turn. The Erskine
+man was Thatcher and his opponent was named Guild. As they reached the
+other end of the track and sped past the dressing-room, conflicting
+shouts of encouragement from Erskine and Robinson supporters followed
+them.
+
+Thatcher had secured the pole at the start and had leaped into the lead
+at the turn. He was still ahead, but Guild was close behind him, his
+long strides seeming to be always on the point of taking him past, yet
+never doing so. Thatcher's plan was plainly to hand over the race to
+the next runner of his team with a good, big margin of gain, trusting
+that, if unable to increase the advantage, the other Erskine men would
+at least hold what they had. But the big gain wasn't forthcoming yet.
+
+As he neared the starting-point and the finish of the first of his two
+laps he strove desperately to leave his opponent, but it was not until
+the last lap was a third run that daylight opened up between the two.
+The Robinson chap was proving himself a worthy foe. Half-way around the
+last lap there was ten feet between Purple and Brown. From there on
+down to the mark, where the next two men stood with eager, outstretched
+hands, Thatcher gained and gained; but he had commenced late, and when
+Guild touched the hand of his team-mate and fell over into the arms of
+the Robinson trainer he was only fifteen yards to the bad.
+
+Gibbons, short of leg and rather heavy of build, was flying over the
+first turn as though possessed, and behind him pattered Thorpe of
+Robinson. Down the stretch they flew, while the band was drowned by
+the shouts of the onlookers. It was a pretty contest that, even though
+to discerning ones, at least, the end was not in doubt. Gibbons looked
+like a small whirlwind, and gave every indication of killing himself
+before the second lap was finished, but Thorpe, with long and easy
+strides, ate up the interval between them foot by foot, and when the
+second lap began was in position to take the lead whenever he wanted to.
+
+Half-way down the side he did so. Gibbons fought him off desperately
+for an instant, but at the turn Robinson led by a yard. Then it was
+that Gibbons surprised even his trainer, for, instead of steadily
+dropping back, he refused to yield an inch and chased Thorpe down to
+the finish like an avenging fate, crossing the line a bare yard behind
+him.
+
+That yard of advantage was five yards half through the next lap,
+Tolmann failing to prove a match for Brine of Robinson. Foot after foot
+and yard after yard opened up between them, and when the last lap began
+the Brown's runner was an eighth of a lap ahead.
+
+"Well, that's settled right now," said Long, who had jostled his way to
+Allan's side. "If we still had Thatcher we might stand some show, but I
+guess Poor can't cut down that lead enough to make it look even close."
+
+"Thatcher's idea was all right," said Allan, "but he didn't know how
+good his man was. Robinson's next man is her captain, I think, and I
+suppose he ought to be the best of the lot."
+
+"He ought to be, but maybe he isn't. Poor is a plucky little chap, and
+maybe he'll give Jones a run for his money. Look at him!"
+
+At the other end of the hall Erskine's last hope was leaning over the
+mark, one slim white arm thrust forward and one reaching impatiently
+back toward where Tolmann, swaying and gasping, was vainly striving
+to save the race. Poor looked plucky without a doubt, and when, after
+what seemed an age, Tolmann struck weakly at his hand and staggered
+off the track, he was off like a shot, his thin legs twinkling like a
+salmon-colored streak as he followed the Robinson captain. The latter
+was almost a quarter of a lap ahead and was running easily, yet keeping
+a watchful glance upon his opponent. And, as it proved, that watchful
+glance was not thrown away.
+
+The band blared forth a two-step with might and main, supporters of the
+rival colleges clapped, shouted, and shrieked, and the runners' shoes
+_tap-tapped_ on the floor and pounded over the built-up corners.
+
+And then, of a sudden, a roar started among the audience and gathered
+volume and swept deafeningly across the great hall, and Allan,
+raising himself on tiptoes, gave a shout of joy. For just an instant
+or two after passing the second turn the Robinson captain had become
+inattentive to his pursuer, and in that brief moment Poor had literally
+eaten up space with his flying feet until now twenty yards would have
+spanned the distance between them. Jones, warned by the applause,
+leaped ahead, but Poor refused to yield an inch he had gained. More
+than that, he kept on gaining.
+
+The bell clanged the beginning of the last lap of the race and the
+Robinson runner swept over the line fifteen yards ahead of Poor, his
+long strides making the latter's look ridiculously short by comparison.
+But if his strides were short, they were also rapid, and Poor, his
+little, weazened face screwed into an agony of effort, chased his
+opponent down in the next half lap, and at the second turn was barely
+two yards behind. Jones was plainly worried. As he pounded around the
+corner his right arm was thrust out in an involuntary effort to keep
+his opponent from passing him. But Poor was not able to do that on
+the turn, and for the next stretch their relative positions remained
+unchanged.
+
+As they dashed by the group at the dressing-room door, Allan and Long
+and Harris and the others shrieked exhortations and encouragement to
+their runner. Then the next turn was taken, Jones stumbled, saved
+himself, and led the way down the last stretch, his head back, his
+mouth wide open, and his speed lessening at every stride.
+
+But if he was ready to give up, so, too, was Poor, who had run a
+quarter of a lap farther than he. And all the way down that stretch the
+Robinson captain struggled and faltered and the Erskine runner dogged
+his steps, unable to pass him. And then something happened, and so
+quickly that it was all over before the sight had time to register the
+meaning of it on the brain.
+
+Half-way over the turn, and twenty yards from the finish, Jones swayed,
+tripped, and rolled over to the edge of the track, and Poor, less than
+two yards behind him, plunged blindly over him, sprawled and rolled
+along for three yards, and then, in some strange manner, found his feet
+and took up the running again. So, too, did Jones, but the larger man
+had fallen more heavily, and for an instant remained dazed upon the
+floor.
+
+That instant decided the race, for although he was up again almost
+before the audience had sensed the catastrophe, yet he had lost the
+lead. For the last few yards the two men, giddy, swaying, their heads
+fallen almost onto their breasts, strove weakly for the line. The next
+moment Poor threw out his arms and sprawled forward on his face across
+the chalk-mark and Jones, stumbling past him, fell, sliding on hands
+and knees to the edge of the track.
+
+Down by the dressing-room door Allan and the others were whooping it up
+joyfully, for Erskine had turned defeat into victory and won the relay
+by a scant three yards!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+ALLAN LEAVES THE CLUB TABLE
+
+
+March winds are freakish, prankish things, and the wind in the face of
+which Allan crossed the yard one morning a fortnight or so after the
+indoor meeting was no exception. He was on his way from Grace Hall to
+the Chemical Laboratory for a ten o'clock, and at the corner of the
+chapel he passed a couple of fellows whom a casual glance showed him he
+did not know. But that he was not a stranger to one of them was soon
+proven. The wind, scurrying around the corner of the chapel, tossed him
+the following fragment of conversation with startling distinctness:
+
+"Who's that fellow, Steve?"
+
+"Ware, a freshie; he runs, or tries to. He was in the mile and two
+miles at Boston week before last and didn't do a thing in either of
+them. Guess the Athletic Association will take his job away now. They
+just employed him to keep him in college, I guess. This thing of giving
+fellows work just because----"
+
+The words ended as suddenly as they had begun, so far as Allan was
+concerned, and he strode on to the laboratory. But his cheeks were
+burning and his heart was filled with wrath. For the first time he
+realized that his employment by the E. A. A. had a suspicious look, to
+say the least, while it was even probable that what the fellow he had
+overheard thought was really true. He was angry at the unknown youth
+for saying what he had, angry with Stearns for placing him in such a
+questionable position, and angry at Professor Nast for countenancing
+it. He wondered whether all the fellows he knew or who knew him
+believed as did the fellow he had passed, that he was knowingly
+allowing the Athletic Association to present him with money he was not
+earning.
+
+The blood dyed his face again, and he marveled at his blindness.
+Why had he not seen from the first that Stearns had secured him the
+place in the office merely to ensure his stay at college and his
+participation in the dual meet with Robinson? And hadn't he more than
+half suspected all along? But no, he was guiltless of that charge.
+Credulous and blind he had been, but not dishonest. And dishonest he
+would not be now. He passed a miserable, impatient half-hour, and when
+it was over hurried to the office of the Athletic Association and found
+Professor Nast at his desk.
+
+The professor was a mild-mannered little man, rather nervous and
+seemingly indecisive, but he was executively capable and had much sound
+common sense. He viewed Allan's arrival with mild curiosity, nodded
+silently, and turned back to his work. But Allan didn't allow him to
+continue it.
+
+"How much am I worth here, sir, if you please?" he demanded,
+unceremoniously. The chairman looked somewhat startled and disconcerted.
+
+"Why--er--that is a difficult question to answer, Mr. Ware. But if
+you--ah--consider that you are not being paid enough, I shall be glad
+to consider the matter of increased remuneration if you will make out
+an application in writing, stating----"
+
+"Well, is my work here worth a dollar an hour, sir?"
+
+"Eh? A dollar an hour? I--er-- But I think you are receiving that
+amount, are you not?"
+
+"Yes, sir; and that's what the trouble is."
+
+"Trouble? Suppose you explain what you mean."
+
+"Well, I--" He hesitated for words an instant and then threw politeness
+to the winds. "You've made me do what isn't honest, you and Stearns,"
+he charged, angrily. "You offered me the work here just to keep me in
+college, so I could run at your old meet, and you gave me a dollar
+an hour for work that any one would do for half that money. Oh,
+I know it's lots my fault," he went on, silencing the professor's
+remonstrances. "I ought to have guessed it, but I didn't. I didn't
+think a thing about it until to-day I overheard a fellow say in plain
+words that I was taking money I wasn't earning. That's a nice thing to
+have fellows say about you, isn't it? And I dare say the whole college
+thinks just as he does, and--and----"
+
+"Hold up a minute," said the professor, finally making himself heard.
+"You're accusing Mr. Stearns and me of pretty hard things. Let's talk
+this over quietly. Sit down, please."
+
+Allan obeyed. The professor swung around in his chair until he faced
+him, clasped his hands over his vest, and gravely studied Allan's angry
+countenance.
+
+"I'm not sure that you--ah--have any right to come here and charge
+me--or Mr. Stearns--with unfair dealings. But I will accord you the
+right, Mr. Ware, for I see that there has been a mistake made. It was,
+however, a mistake and nothing more, I assure you. Neither Mr. Stearns
+nor I had any intention of deceiving you. Allow me to finish, please,"
+he added, as Allan made an impatient movement.
+
+"It has been the custom here, of recent years, to give employment in
+this office to men who have needed the work, and preference has been
+given to athletes. If they have been paid more for their labor than
+that labor was really worth--and I am ready to grant that they usually
+have--the money with which they were paid has always come out of the
+general athletic fund and not from the college. I am not--ah--prepared
+to defend this custom; on the contrary, sir, I think it a very bad one,
+and I for one should be glad to see it discontinued. In your case,
+now, Mr. Stearns came and saw me and told me you needed employment.
+The place was vacant and I offered it to you at the terms which have
+always been paid. You are not earning one dollar an hour, Mr. Ware,
+and if you feel that you have been deceived by us, I am very sorry. No
+deception was intended on my part, and I am sure Mr. Stearns believed
+that you--er--understood the situation."
+
+"I didn't, though," answered Allan, somewhat conciliated by the other's
+manner. "I didn't dream of it. I--I did think the work was rather easy
+considering the pay, but I thought maybe it would get harder, and
+that--that I could make up. If I had known the truth, I wouldn't have
+had anything to do with the work."
+
+"I am sorry, but, as I have said, there was no intent at deception.
+I offer you my apologies, and I am sure Mr. Stearns will be quite as
+regretful as I am. If there is anything I can do to better matters, I
+shall be delighted to do it, Mr. Ware."
+
+"Yes, sir, there is. I'd like to keep on with the work until I have
+squared myself."
+
+"You mean you want to work without wages?"
+
+Allan nodded. The professor considered the matter for a while in
+silence. Then--
+
+"If you insist," he said, "we will make that arrangement. But there
+is another method that may answer fully as well. Are you averse to
+continuing the work at--er--a just remuneration?"
+
+"N-no, I suppose not," Allan replied. "I need the work, and if you'll
+pay me only what it's worth I'd like to go ahead with it."
+
+"I'm glad to hear you say so, for you have been very conscientious,
+Mr. Ware, and your services in the office have become valuable to
+me. I should dislike to make a change. Supposing, then, you continue
+at--ah--fifty cents an hour? Would that be satisfactory?"
+
+"Is it worth that much?" asked Allan, bluntly.
+
+"Yes, it honestly is; it is worth quite that. Well, and in regard
+to--ah--let us say arrears; I am working on the compilation of a rather
+difficult lot of statistics which are to be incorporated into my
+report. You could assist me vastly with that matter and could work,
+say, an hour three evenings a week. In that way, it seems to me, you
+could very shortly 'square' yourself, as you term it, and could, to
+some extent, choose your own time for doing so. What do you--ah--think?"
+
+Allan considered the matter. It sounded rather easy, and since an
+hour ago he had grown to view easy tasks with suspicion. But he could
+find no ground for objection, and in the end he accepted the proposal
+gratefully and stammered a somewhat lame apology for his hasty
+discourtesy. The Chairman of the Athletic Committee waved it politely
+aside.
+
+"We will consider it settled, then," he said. "This afternoon we will
+decide on the hours for the extra work. I'm glad you brought this
+matter up, Mr. Ware, for I think the time has come to do away with a
+pernicious custom. Good morning."
+
+On his way to his next recitation Allan reflected somewhat ruefully
+that under the new arrangement there was one thing which had been lost
+sight of, and that was a public vindication. As long as he continued
+to work in the office fellows would continue to think he was receiving
+money not earned. To be sure, he had the consolation of a clear
+conscience, but it was hard to have the fellows he knew and whose
+respect he craved think badly of him.
+
+But there Allan was mistaken, for the story got out in short
+order--Tommy saw to that!--and it wasn't long before he heard an
+account of the matter, in which he figured as a model of indignant
+virtue and a galley-slave to conscience, from a fellow whom he knew
+very slightly. After that he had no doubts about public vindication.
+
+It was not a difficult matter to find three hours in the evening each
+week for the new labor, and he found it, since he had a fondness for
+mathematics, far more interesting than the daily letter-writing and
+clerical work. But five dollars a week wasn't ten, and so, despite
+the protests of Pete and all the other members of the club table, he
+left the hospitality of Mrs. Pearson's and went back to the college
+dining-hall, where he could, by careful management, make his monthly
+bill ridiculously small. Pete commanded and implored to be allowed to
+"fix things up" so that Allan need not leave the table; he almost wept;
+but Allan was obdurate. Pete even threatened to "let the table go hang"
+and return with Allan to Commons, but was finally dissuaded when Allan
+pointed out that in all probability he (Allan) would very shortly be
+taken onto the training-table of the track squad.
+
+So Pete accepted the inevitable and draped Allan's chair with some
+dozen yards of black cr�pe, and allowed none to occupy it for a week
+of mourning. But Allan wasn't a stranger to the table, for every
+Saturday night he returned there as Pete's guest and sat in his old
+seat and was made much of by the crowd.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+AN ALARM OF FIRE
+
+
+    "Mary had a little dog,
+       It was a noble pup;
+     'Twould stand upon its front legs
+       When you'd hold its hind legs up!"
+
+Thus warbled Tommy as, having kicked the door shut, he subsided into
+one of Allan's chairs by sliding over the back. Allan pushed his
+book away, yawned dismally, and looked over at his visitor mutely
+questioning:
+
+"Where's Pete?" Tommy demanded.
+
+"Am I his keeper?" asked Allan.
+
+"You're his _fidus whatyoucallit_. Seen him to-night?"
+
+"No; maybe he's studying."
+
+"Careless youth," muttered Tommy. "Say, did you hear about Pete and
+Boeotia?"
+
+"No; who's Boeotia, anyway?"
+
+"Oh, it's that place in--er--ancient history, you know. It was at
+recitation this morning; Professor Grove asked Pete how Boeotia was
+situated. Pete wasn't prepared, but he thought he'd make a bluff at it.
+So he gets up and drawls out in his cheerfully idiotic way, 'Oh, he had
+a pretty good situation, but he lost it.'"
+
+"What did old Grove say?" laughed Allan.
+
+"Well, I wasn't there and can't tell you. I'm going to settle my debts
+this week, and we'll have that dinner at the Elm Tree Saturday night,
+if that's all right for you fellows."
+
+"It's all right for me," said Allan.
+
+"The funny part of it is," Tommy went on, smiling, "that I made just
+enough to pay for the dinner out of the reports of Pete's drowning
+which I sent to the Boston paper. I got my account yesterday."
+
+"Tell that to Pete," laughed Allan.
+
+"I'm going to. Where's the angel child?"
+
+"The angel child is probably out in the kitchen. I can't keep her at
+home since vacation; she found out then where the grub comes from."
+
+"I think she ought to go to the dinner with us, don't you?"
+
+"Well, scarcely. Let's go down to the 'Ranch' and see what Pete's up
+to. I can't study any more to-night."
+
+Town Lane was as dark as pitch save at remote intervals where
+street lamps flickered half-heartedly, and to reach Pete's domicile
+at night without breaking a limb was quite a feat. To-night nothing
+more exciting occurred than a collision with a stable door which was
+swinging open, and the two reached the corner to find Pete's windows
+brightly illumined. Tommy, being in a musical mood, took up a position
+underneath and broke into song.
+
+    "Here 'neath thy window, Love, I am waiting,
+       Waiting thy sweet face to see,"
+
+he declared, strumming the while on an imaginary guitar. But the verse
+came to an end without signs from the window, and so they climbed the
+stairs. The "Ranch" was deserted. But even as they assured themselves
+of the fact by looking into the bedroom, soft footfalls sounded on the
+stairs from the third-story loft, and a moment after Pete, looking
+like a conspirator, crept into the front room and softly closed the
+door behind him. Then his eyes fell on Allan and Tommy, and he grinned
+mysteriously.
+
+"Where'd you come from?" Allan demanded.
+
+"Up-stairs."
+
+"What's doing up there?" asked Tommy, suspiciously.
+
+"Nothing at all." But the grin remained. Tommy sniffed.
+
+"I'm going up to see," he threatened.
+
+Pete sank into a chair, took up his pipe, and spread his hands apart as
+if to say, "Please yourself; believe me or not, as you like." Then he
+lighted his pipe.
+
+"What have you done with your coat?" asked Allan. "And why are you
+festooned with cobwebs and decorated with dust?"
+
+"_Quien sabe?_" answered Pete, shrugging his broad shoulders.
+
+"Just the same, you've been up to something," declared Allan, sternly.
+"And you'd better 'fess up."
+
+"Huh!" grunted Pete.
+
+"Out with it!" commanded Tommy.
+
+"Huh!" said Pete again.
+
+"Sounds like a blamed old Indian, doesn't he?" asked Tommy,
+disgustedly. "Well, don't you come and beg me to intercede with the
+Dean for you."
+
+The smile on Pete's face broadened; he chuckled enjoyably; but commands
+and demands failed to move him to confession, and, after arranging for
+the dinner at the Inn, Allan and Tommy took their departure, Pete, for
+some reason and contrary to custom, making no effort to detain them. As
+they clambered down the steep stairs, Pete called after them:
+
+"Say, it would be a great night for a fire, wouldn't it?"
+
+"Fire?" repeated Allan. "Why?"
+
+"Oh, such a dandy old high wind," answered Pete. "Well, _adios_."
+
+"Wonder what he meant?" said Allan, on the way back. "It would be just
+like him to get into another mess."
+
+"About time," chuckled Tommy. "Good night."
+
+Allan went to bed soon after eleven, with Two Spot, according to
+nightly custom, curled up against the small of his back. For a while
+he lay awake listening to the howling and buffeting of the wind, but
+presently sleep came to him.
+
+It seemed hours later, but was in reality scarcely thirty minutes, when
+he awoke abruptly with the wild clanging of a bell in his ears. He sat
+up and listened. It was undoubtedly the fire-bell, and had he had any
+doubt about it the sound of running footsteps in the street would have
+convinced him at once.
+
+For a moment he weighed the prospective excitement of a conflagration
+against the comforts of the warm bed. In the end the fire offered
+greater inducements, and he leaped out of bed, lighted the gas, and
+tumbled into his clothes. And all the time the fire-bell clanged
+and clashed on the March wind. Leaving Two Spot to the undisputed
+possession of the bed, Allan left the house and looked expectantly
+about him. But there was no glow in the sky in any quarter; darkness
+reigned everywhere save about the infrequent street lamps. Here and
+there persons were running toward the fire-house, and Allan followed
+their example.
+
+Down Main Street he hurried, entered the yard back of the library,
+and cut across in the face of the buffeting wind to the beginning of
+Town Lane. When he reached Elm Street he was part of a steady stream
+of excited citizens and students, all hurrying anxiously toward where,
+half-way down the narrow thoroughfare, the brazen alarum was pealing
+deafeningly forth. And then, for the first time since he had awoke,
+Allan recollected Pete and his mysterious observation regarding fire.
+And instantly he knew that Pete and the fire-bell were in some way
+working mischief together.
+
+Pete's rooms were in the building at the corner of Center Street,
+and next door stood the fire-house, a plain two-storied building,
+surmounted by a twenty-foot tower, at the top of which hung the bell.
+When Allan reached the scene the windows of Pete's front room were
+brilliantly illumined, and from one of them hung Pete, exchanging
+lively salutations with friends in the throng below.
+
+For a moment Allan's suspicions were deadened. In front of the
+fire-house the crowd jostled and craned their necks as they stared
+wonderingly upward to where the tower showed indistinctly against
+the midnight sky. On every hand were heard bewildered ejaculations,
+while members of the volunteer fire department ran hither and thither,
+questioning, suggesting, and plainly distracted. The big doors were
+open and inside the engine and hose-cart, horses in harness, were ready
+to sally forth the instant any one discovered where the fire was or
+why the bell clanged on and on without apparent reason. Through a hole
+in the ceiling a big rope descended, and at every clang of the bell it
+rose and fell again, and the building shook with the jar.
+
+"Hello, Allan! Isn't this great?" shouted a voice in his ear, and Allan
+turned to find Hal, arrayed principally in a plaid dressing-gown and
+white duck cricket hat, grinning from ear to ear.
+
+"But--but what is it?" asked Allan, bewildered.
+
+"Don't know; nobody knows. There's the bell and there's the rope; no
+one's pulling it; must be spooks! Isn't it jolly?" And Hal leaped with
+delight and thumped Allan on the back.
+
+"But why does the bell ring?" he asked, following the general example
+and staring upward at the tower.
+
+"That's it! Why does it? Some say it's the wind, but that's poppycock,
+you know. What I think is that some one's got a rope hitched to the
+bell and is pulling it from the back of the building somewhere; that's
+what I think."
+
+"But haven't they been around there to see?"
+
+"Yes, but they're so excited and fussed they wouldn't know a rope if
+they fell over it. Some one's having a lark, you can bet on that. Isn't
+it a picnic? Just hear the old bell! Wow! Listen to that!"
+
+Allan put his mouth to Hal's ear and whispered a single word. Hal
+started, shot a glance at Pete's window and Pete himself, and burst
+into a gale of laughter.
+
+"D-d-do you think so?" he gasped. "But--how could he? Look, there he is
+at the window. O Pete!"
+
+"Hush up!" whispered Allan. "They'll get onto it. Look, they've got a
+ladder! They'll find out what's up now, all right, because the rope
+will be hanging. We ought to warn Pete; come on!"
+
+They wormed their way through the crowd, exchanging shouts of
+salutation with acquaintances as they went, until they were under
+Pete's window. There they found Tommy, note-book in hand, looking very
+important and excited.
+
+"O Pete!" shouted Allan. "Is your door unlocked?"
+
+"Hello, partner!" returned Pete in a happy bellow. "Isn't this great?
+Here I sit at my parlor window and watch all the wealth, beauty and
+fashion of our charming metropolis. And, say, ain't the racket fine?
+This is more noise than I've heard since a dynamite blast went off
+behind my back! Why, it's almost like living in a city! Say, if you
+fellows----"
+
+"We want to come up," shouted Allan. "Unlock your door."
+
+Pete shook his head.
+
+"Not on your life, partner; I've only got my nightie on. Want me to
+freeze to death?"
+
+"Well, put something on," said Allan anxiously, "and come down."
+
+"'Fraid of catching cold. Besides, I must turn in now; I'm losing my
+beauty sleep."
+
+"But--but, Pete, they're--they're putting up a ladder!" blurted Allan.
+
+"Are they?" asked Pete imperturbably. "Well, I'm not coming down to
+help 'em. They'll have to get on without me, my boy. Hello, Hal, that
+you? Ain't this wano? Such a cheerful----"
+
+Pete's roar stopped suddenly, as did the noise of the crowd. Two
+firemen half-way up the ladder at the front of the building nearly fell
+off. For a sudden appalling silence gave place to the uproar! The bell
+was still!
+
+After a moment of startled surprise--for at first the silence seemed
+louder than the noise--every one broke into incoherent laughter and
+ejaculations. The men on the ladder paused, undecided, and finally slid
+back to earth to hold a consultation.
+
+"Well, ain't that a shame!" lamented Pete. "Just when I was beginning
+to get sleepy! Now I'm all woke up again. Say, you chaps, wait a bit
+and I'll slip something on and let you up." He disappeared from the
+window and was gone some time. Then the key scraped in the door at the
+foot of the stairs and Allan, Hal, and Tommy slipped through. Pete,
+standing guard, locked the portal in the faces of several undesired
+fellows and followed them up-stairs.
+
+As Allan entered the room he glanced eagerly around. Just what he
+expected to find would have been hard to say, but whatever it was he
+didn't find it. The room presented its usual appearance, save that
+articles of apparel lay scattered widely about just wherever Pete had
+happened to be when they came off. Pete locked the room door, took his
+pipe from the table and proceeded to fill it. The others looked about
+the room, looked at each other and looked at Pete. Pete scratched a
+match, lighted his corn-cob and smiled easily back. Allan sank into the
+easy chair.
+
+"How--how did you do it?" he gasped.
+
+"Do it? Do what?" asked Pete, blowing a cloud of smoke toward the open
+window. Outside sounds told of the dispersing of the throng.
+
+"You know what," said Allan.
+
+Pete went to the window, called good night to an acquaintance, closed
+the sash and ambled back, smiling enjoyably.
+
+"Wasn't it moocha wano?" he asked. "Just answer me that, Allan. Did
+anything ever go off more beautifully, with more--er--_�clat_, as we
+say in Paree? Is your Uncle Pete the boss, all-star bell-ringer? Did
+you get on to the expression, the--the phrasing? Did you----"
+
+"Shut up, Pete," said Hal, grinning. "Tell us about it. Go on, like a
+good chap."
+
+"There's little to tell," said Pete with becoming modesty. "Up
+there"--he pointed toward the ceiling--"is a loft. Over there is a
+bell. Bring a rope from the bell into the back window of the loft,
+down-stairs and through that door and--there you are! Quite simple."
+
+"But, look here," piped up Tommy. "You were at the window when the bell
+was doing its stunts. How--how was that?"
+
+"Simple, too," answered Pete, waving aside a cloud of smoke. "There was
+a noose in the end of the rope and the noose fitted over my knee as I
+kneeled on the floor. It was hard work and I guess the hide's about
+wore off, but it was all for the sake of Art."
+
+The three deluged him with questions simultaneously, and Pete, sitting
+nonchalantly on the edge of the table, answered them as best he could.
+
+"But how about the rope?" asked Allan finally. "They'll see it and
+trace it through the window."
+
+"Oh, no, they won't, because, my boy, it isn't there any longer. When
+I said I'd put something on and let you fellows in, I cut it off at
+the foot of the tower and brought my end of it away. They'll find a
+rope there, all right, but they'll never guess it went through the back
+window. Besides, I can prove an alibi," he ended, with a generous and
+virtuous smile.
+
+"That's so," answered Tommy. "We saw you at the window."
+
+"When the bell was ringing," added Hal.
+
+"And I saw both his hands," supplemented Allan.
+
+"Yes, I meant you should," said Pete. Going to the trunk he took from
+behind it the lariat which usually hung on the wall, and from one end
+of it detached a few feet of hemp rope. This he put into the stove. The
+lariat he replaced upon the wall.
+
+"Thus we destroy all evidences of guilt," he said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+PETE PUTS THE SHOT
+
+
+For a few days following the mysterious serenade on the fire-bell
+there was an epidemic of mild colds throughout the college; and as
+each fellow who had a cold was able and eager to tell--through his
+nose--what had happened at the fire-house, it would seem that there
+might have been some connection between the affliction and the midnight
+occurrence. But no serious illness resulted, and so we may leniently
+assert that no harm came of Pete's joke.
+
+Not that any one knew it was Pete's joke, save the quartet and one
+other. The one other was Mr. Guild, out at Hillcrest. When morning
+came the severed rope hung in plain sight from the bell tower, and
+although it told clearly what had happened, yet it threw no light
+on the identity of the culprit. Of course every one--townfolk
+especially--declared it to have been a student prank, but none
+suspected Pete Burley, for it apparently entered no one's head that
+the bell might have been rung from Pete's room. The perpetrator was
+popularly believed to have been hidden in some near-by yard.
+
+That Pete's innocence was never questioned was a lucky thing for Pete,
+because the faculty would have viewed the affair in the light of a last
+straw, and Pete's connection with Erskine College would have ceased
+then and there. As it was, the affair remained forever a mystery.
+
+Mr. Guild heard the story a few days later, when the quartet drove out
+to Hillcrest in a rattle-trap carryall and spent the afternoon. This
+was the second visit the fellows had made to the owner of the ducks
+since the beginning of the term. Mr. and Mrs. Guild had been in the
+South for two months, and after their return, in February, the snow had
+made the roads almost impassable. Hal and Tommy had been introduced on
+the occasion of the previous visit and had been cordially welcomed. Mr.
+Guild enjoyed the story of the bell-ringing and laughed heartily over
+it.
+
+"That's a better joke, Burley," he said, "than that drowning business
+of yours. That was a trifle too grim to be wholly humorous. And when I
+remember the way I had the river dragged for your lifeless body, and
+expected to see it every time the men drew the grapples up, I--well, I
+hope your dinner the other night choked you."
+
+But it hadn't. The dinner had passed off very successfully, and save
+that Hal had partaken of too much pie and had sat up in bed until
+three o'clock in the morning well doubled over, it had been an affair
+worthy of being long remembered. Even Pete, who claimed the right to be
+severely critical, had found nothing to find fault with, save, perhaps,
+the fact that in winning the banquet he had unwittingly provided the
+money to pay for it!
+
+The second week in March witnessed the return of the track team
+candidates to practise in the gymnasium. Spring was unusually late
+that year--perhaps you recollect the fact?--and several feet of snow
+hid the ground until well toward the last of March. But meanwhile
+the candidates, thirty-eight in number, were divided into two squads
+and were daily put through chest-weight and dumb-bell exercises and
+sent careening around the running track. Allan, who since his failure
+to "make good"--in the language of the undergraduate--had been
+somewhat disgusted and down in the mouth, with the return to practise
+experienced a renewal of faith in himself and his abilities. Billy
+Kernahan laughed at his pessimistic utterances and assured him that
+outdoor work would do wonders for him.
+
+Meanwhile Hal was hard at work with the freshman baseball squad and was
+turning out to be something of a "star" at the bat. Tommy, who during
+the winter months had found much difficulty in keeping himself busy,
+was as happy as a lark, since the awakening activity in athletics,
+the class debates and the final debate with Robinson afforded him
+opportunities to perform wonderful feats of reporting and gave him
+almost as much work to do as even he could desire.
+
+Pete was left forlorn. Of the quartet he alone had no interest in life
+save study; and without wishing to be hard on Pete, I am nevertheless
+constrained to say that in his case study as an interest was something
+of a failure. He managed to stand fairly well in class, but this
+was due rather to an excellent memory than to any feats of severe
+application. When, toward the last of March, the baseball men and the
+track team went outdoors, he was more deserted than ever. Hal and Allan
+were inaccessible to him save in the evenings, and even then insisted
+on studying. As for Tommy----
+
+"You might as well try to put your thumb on a flea as to try and locate
+Tommy," he growled aggrievedly. "I tried to meet up with him on Monday,
+and the best I could do was to find out where he had been last seen on
+Saturday. I haven't caught up with him yet, by ginger!"
+
+"Why don't you go in for something?" asked Hal. "Try baseball."
+
+"Baseball!" grunted Pete. "What do I know about baseball? It would take
+me a month to learn the rudiments of the game. I'll go out for spring
+football practise next month, but that only lasts a couple of weeks,
+they say, and after that I guess I'll pack up and go home."
+
+"Try golf," said Allan, with a wicked smile. Pete snorted.
+
+"I'd look well hitting a little ball with a crooked stick, wouldn't I?"
+he asked disgustedly. "No; I may be a blamed fool, but I know better
+than to make such a show of myself as that."
+
+In the end Pete found an interest, and the manner of it was strange. It
+happened in this wise.
+
+It was a few days before the class games. If his friends would not come
+to him, Pete could, at least, go to his friends. And so he had got into
+the way of walking out to the field in the afternoon and watching Hal
+on the diamond or Allan on the track. Sometimes he had a word or two
+with them; but at all events it was better, he thought, than moping
+about the college. The scene was a lively and, when the weather was
+bright, a pretty one. To-day the sky was almost cloudless, the sun
+shone warmly and there was a quality to the air that made one want to
+do great things, but yet left one content to do nothing.
+
+When Pete approached the field he saw that the varsity and freshman
+baseball teams were both at practise, that the lacrosse candidates--whose
+antics always amused him--were racing madly about at the far corner of
+the enclosure, and that the track men were on hand in force. The scene
+was full of life and color and sound. Pete broke into song:
+
+    Sam Bass was born in Indiana, it was his native home,
+    And at the age of seventeen young Sam began to roam;
+    He hit the trail for Texas a cowboy for to be,
+    And a kinder-hearted feller you'd never hope to see.
+
+Pete's voice was untrained but hearty. Had the tune been more melodious
+the effect would possibly have been more pleasing. As it was, the
+adventures of Sam Bass were chanted--as they always have been where
+Pete came from--in a melancholy reiteration of some half-dozen notes
+that threatened in the course of time to become terribly monotonous.
+
+    Sam used to own a thoroughbred known as the Denton mare;
+    He matched her in scrub races and took her to the fair.
+    He always coined the money and spent----
+
+The song died away to a low rumble as Pete stooped and picked up
+a battered sphere of lead which lay on the sod before him. It was
+surprisingly heavy and he wondered what it was. Then his gaze fell on
+a lime-marked circle a few yards away, and it dawned upon him that the
+thing he held was a sixteen-pound shot, such as he had seen the fellows
+throw. Near-by the sod was dented and torn where the weight had
+struck. Pete hefted the thing in one hand and then the other. Then he
+raised it head-high and threw it toward the circle. It narrowly missed
+smashing the stop-board. Pete took up his song once more:
+
+    He started for the Collins ranch, it was the month of May,
+    With a herd of Texas cattle, the Black Hills for to see.
+
+He picked up the shot again and looked about him. There was nobody
+near, and of those at a distance none was paying him any attention. So
+he laid his pipe on the ground, balanced the shot in his right hand,
+stepped to the front of the circle and sent it through the air. It
+described a good deal of an arc and came down about eight paces away.
+Pete was sure he could beat that, so he strolled over and recovered
+the weight, and, humming lugubriously the while, strolled back and
+tried it over again. This time it went a few feet farther and Pete was
+encouraged. He took off his coat and rolled his sleeves up, spat on his
+hands and seized that lump of lead with determination.
+
+Up near the finish of the mile, by the side of the track, Allan was in
+conversation with Kernahan. Suddenly he stopped, smiled, and pointed
+down the field.
+
+"For goodness' sake," he exclaimed, "look at Pete Burley trying to put
+the shot!"
+
+Billy turned and watched. When the shot had landed, he asked:
+
+"Has he ever tried that before?"
+
+"No, indeed; Pete's stunt is football." Kernahan smiled.
+
+"Sure. I remember him now. Well, you try a few sprints of thirty yards
+or so, and I guess that'll do for to-day. That stride's coming along
+all right; don't be in too big a hurry. To-morrow do a slow mile and a
+few starts. Then you'd better knock off until the meeting."
+
+Allan nodded, turned and jogged away up the track. Billy strolled
+toward Pete. When he drew near his ears were greeted with a plaintive
+wail:
+
+    Sam Bass was born in Indiana, it was his native home,
+    And at the age of seventeen young Sam began to roam;
+    He hit the trail----
+
+Away sped the shot, and fell with a thud fully thirty feet distant.
+Pete grunted. Billy's face lighted. Pete wiped the perspiration from
+his brow with the back of one big hand and strolled after the shot.
+When he turned back he saw the trainer. He looked somewhat abashed and
+showed a disposition to drop the weight where he stood. But he thought
+better of it.
+
+"Taking a little exercise," he explained, carelessly.
+
+Billy nodded.
+
+"Good idea," he said. "Don't throw it, but push it right away from you
+as though you were punching some one. You get it too high."
+
+"Oh, I was just fooling with it," said Pete.
+
+"I know; but you try it, and don't let it go so high."
+
+The first attempt was a dismal failure, the shot scarcely covering
+twenty feet. Billy's presence embarrassed the performer.
+
+"Try it again," said Billy. Pete hesitated. Then,
+
+"All right," he said, cheerfully.
+
+This time he did better than ever, and Billy paced off the distance.
+
+"About thirty-two feet," he announced. "That'll do for to-day."
+
+"Huh?" said Pete.
+
+"That's enough for this time. You don't want to lame your muscles, if
+you haven't done it already."
+
+"Oh, my muscles will stand it," answered Pete. "Do 'em good to get
+lame, I guess." But Billy shook his head.
+
+"No, that won't do. You leave off now and report to me to-morrow at
+four-thirty."
+
+"What for?" asked Pete, in surprise.
+
+"For practise. We'll try you in the meet next Friday."
+
+"No, I guess not," said Pete, shaking his head. "If you had a roping
+contest I might try my hand, but these athletic stunts have me beat."
+
+"Never mind about that," answered the trainer, "you do as I say. We
+need you, and we're going to have you. Four-thirty, remember; and you'd
+better get some togs."
+
+He nodded and walked away. Pete, staring after him, expressed his
+surprise by a long whistle.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+TRACK AND FIELD
+
+
+The class games were notable that spring merely because they
+brought into sudden prominence a new and promising candidate in the
+shot-putting event, one Peter Burley, '07, of Blackwater, Colo. To be
+sure, Pete didn't break any records, nor did he come out first, but he
+contributed one point to the scant sum of the freshman class total by
+taking third place with a put of thirty-nine feet, four and one-half
+inches. Pete's appearance in athletic circles was a surprise to the
+college at large, and those who remembered his prowess at football
+and took his size and apparent strength into consideration jumped
+to the conclusion that here was a "dark horse" that was going to
+carry everything before him and break the college record into minute
+particles. Personally, Pete viewed his participation as a good joke,
+but he wasn't quite certain whom the joke was on.
+
+It was evident that he had it in him to become a first-rate man at
+the weights, and Kernahan viewed his "find" with much satisfaction.
+Erskine had for two years past been rather weak in that line of
+athletics, and Billy had visions of developing the big Westerner into
+a phenomenal shot-putter and hammer-thrower; though, for the present,
+at least, he said nothing to Pete about the hammer, for fear the latter
+would mutiny. Pete had had only three days of practise under Billy's
+instruction prior to the class games, but in that time he had mastered
+one or two of the principal points and had thereby added seven feet to
+his best performance of Monday.
+
+Billy was more than satisfied, the rival shot men, who had viewed
+Pete's appearance among them at first with amused indifference, were
+worried, and Pete was-- But truly it is hard to say what Pete was. The
+whole thing was something of a joke to him, and possibly mild amusement
+was his principal sensation, although he was probably glad to be able
+to please the trainer, who had taken a good deal of trouble with him,
+and to add a point to the tally of his class.
+
+But after the class games amusement gave place to surprise and dismay,
+for Billy informed him that the spring meeting would take place a week
+later, and that by diligent practise meanwhile he ought to be able to
+add another two feet to his record. Pete had been laboring under the
+impression that his troubles were over with the class games, and he
+promptly rebelled. But rebellion didn't work with Billy; he was used
+to it. He had a method of getting his own way in things that was a
+marvel of quiet effectiveness; and so Pete concluded when, on the next
+Monday, he was once more out on the field "tossing the cannon ball," as
+he sarcastically called it.
+
+All that week, up to the very morning of the spring track meeting, he
+stood daily in the seven-foot circle and practised with the shot, while
+Kernahan patiently coached him. Pete had the height, build and strength
+for the work, but it was the hardest kind of a task for him to grasp
+the subtleties of the hop and the change of feet. I am inclined to
+think that Billy's oft-repeated explanations went for little, and that
+in the end--but this was not until he had been at practise for almost a
+month--he learned the tricks himself by constant experimenting.
+
+The actual putting was very soon mastered, but for weeks Pete's best
+efforts were spoiled because he either overstepped the ring or left
+himself too far from the front of it. But when the spring meeting came
+he climbed to second place, Monroe alone keeping ahead of him. The
+latter's best put was forty-three feet ten inches, and Pete's forty-one
+feet three inches.
+
+Monroe seemed to Pete to view the latter's efforts as beneath notice,
+and Pete resented that from the first. As was to be expected by any
+one knowing Pete, Monroe's attitude was accepted as a challenge, and
+Pete vowed he would beat the college crack if he had to work all night
+to do it. From that time on Billy found no necessity for pleading; Pete
+was always on hand when half past four came around, and none was more
+earnest than he, none worked so hard. Pete had found his interest.
+
+Meanwhile Allan had done fairly well in both meets. In the class games
+he had entered for the two miles and the mile, had won the first by a
+bare yard from Rindgely and in the latter had finished third behind
+Hooker and Harris. At Billy's advice he relinquished the mile event
+thereafter and became a two-miler pure and simple. As Billy pointed
+out, either Rindgely or Hooker--and possibly Harris, who was coming on
+fast--was capable of beating Robinson at the mile, and it was better
+for Allan to put all efforts into the two miles, in which, so far as
+was known, Robinson at present excelled. Allan had hard luck at the
+spring meeting, getting away badly in the first place and taking a
+tumble in the next to the last lap that put him out of the race so
+far as the places were concerned. Conroy staggered in ten yards ahead
+of Rindgely, Harris securing third place, and Allan finishing a poor
+fourth.
+
+By this time the training table was started, and Pete, much to his
+delight, temporarily deserted the freshman club table up-stairs and
+moved to the first-floor front room, where Allan, Rindgely, Hooker,
+Harris, Conroy, Stearns, Thatcher, Poor, Leroy, Monroe, Long, and
+several others whose names we have not heard, were congregated under
+the vigilant eyes of Billy Kernahan. I don't think Pete was properly
+impressed with the honor conferred upon him by his admission to the
+training table, but he was glad to be with Allan again and rather
+enjoyed the novelty of having his meals arranged for him. If it had not
+been that training required the relinquishment of his beloved corn-cob
+pipe, I think Pete in those days would have been perfectly happy.
+
+Meanwhile, at another training table farther around the bend of Elm
+Street, Hal was one of the stars of the freshman nine. Of the quartet,
+Tommy only was not head over ears in athletics, but the fact didn't
+trouble him a scrap. He had all he could do--and a trifle more--and
+was laboring, besides, under the harmless delusion that the college's
+success on diamond, track, and river depended largely upon his
+supervision and advice. Whenever he had time, which wasn't very often,
+he delighted to stand beside the lime-marked ring and offer gems of
+instruction in the art of putting the shot to Pete. And Pete, who was
+miserable without companionship, stood it smilingly for the sake of
+Tommy's presence. In the evenings Tommy frequently found a moment or
+two in which to look up Allan or Hal and give them the benefit of his
+advice regarding playing second base or running the two miles. But
+those young gentlemen exhibited a strange and lamentable impatience,
+and Tommy quite often left their presence under compulsion or just
+ahead of a flying boot.
+
+Meanwhile the spring vacation came and went. Of the quartet, Hal and
+Tommy went home, and Allan and Pete stayed at college, Allan from
+motives of economy and Pete because nothing better offered.
+
+After recess baseball held the boards and the varsity team was half-way
+through its schedule by the first week in May, and had but two defeats
+behind it. On the track the candidates were put through their paces
+six days a week. Erskine was almost sure of victories in the sprints,
+equally certain of defeats in the middle distances, expected to win the
+mile, was in grave doubt as to the two miles, and hoped to share the
+hurdles with her opponent. In the field events, the high jump alone was
+certain to yield a first to the Purple. The pole vault, broad jump, and
+both weight events were of doubtful outcome. As Tommy figured it out
+in the columns of "his" paper about this time, Erskine had a chance of
+winning by seven points. But as second and third places were almost
+impossible to apportion with any accuracy, this forecast was not of
+much value. The dual games with Robinson came on May 28th. A fortnight
+before that Allan's work was stretched over six days, as follows:
+
+Monday, a two-mile run at an easy pace.
+
+Tuesday, a fast mile, followed by an easy three-quarters.
+
+Wednesday, a hard, fast mile.
+
+Thursday, two miles and a half in easy time.
+
+Friday, a mile and a half at medium speed.
+
+Saturday, a time trial over the two miles.
+
+This was hard work and lots of it, but Allan's physical condition
+could scarcely have been bettered, and never, from the beginning of
+outdoor practise until the big event was over with, did he go "fine"
+for a moment. Twelve days before the meet Allan had his last trial, and
+when, still running strongly, he crossed the finish line, Billy's watch
+clicked at 9:53-5/8.
+
+Billy smiled cheerfully enough, but down in his heart he was
+disappointed. He had expected better things.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+SUNSHINE AND SHADOW
+
+
+I have never found any one with sufficient courage to defend the
+winters at Centerport. At the best they are bearable, at the worst they
+are beyond description. Nothing any one might say would be too harsh to
+apply to what the residents call "a hard winter."
+
+In short, from January to April the weather is everything detestable,
+and reminds one of a very bad little boy who has made up his very bad
+little mind to be as very bad as he possibly can.
+
+And then--as like as not between a sunset and a sunrise--spring
+appears, and it is just as though the very bad little boy had grown
+sorry and repentant and had made up his mind to be very, very good
+and sweet and kind, and never do anything to grieve his dear, _dear_
+parents any more. And there is a soft, warm breeze blowing up the river
+valley, the grass on the southern side of the library is unmistakably
+green, a bluebird, or maybe a valiant robin, is singing from a branch
+of the big elm at the corner of the chapel, and there is a strong,
+heartening aroma of moist earth in your nostrils. And you know that
+from thenceforth until you leave the old green town the last of June
+your lines are cast in pleasant places and that it is going to be very
+easy to be happy and good.
+
+Well, I suppose there are other places where spring is superlatively
+pleasant, where the trees and sod are extravagantly green, and where
+youth finds life so well worth living. Only--I have never found them.
+And I doubt if there is an old Erskine man the country over who can
+recollect the month of May at Centerport without a little catch of the
+breath and a sudden lighting of the eye.
+
+For in those Mays his memory recalls Main Street and the yard were
+canopied with a swaying lacework of whispering elm branches, through
+which the sunlight dripped in golden globules and splashed upon the
+soft, velvety sod or moist gravel and spread itself in limpid pools.
+And the ivy was newly green against the old red brick buildings, the
+fence below College Place was lined with fellows you knew, and the
+slow-moving old blue watering-cart trundled by with a soft and pleasant
+sound of splashing water. Fellows called gaily to you as you crossed
+the yard, the muslin curtains at the windows of Morris and Sesson were
+a-flutter in the morning breeze, and from Elm Street floated the
+musical and monotonous chime of the scissor-grinder's bells. What if
+the Finals were close at hand? The sky was blue overhead, the spring
+air was kind and--you were young!
+
+I think something of this occurred to Allan when, at a quarter of ten
+on a mild, bright morning three days before the dual meet, he crossed
+the street from his room, books under arm, and turned into College
+Place.
+
+Perched on the fence in front of the chapel were Clarke Mason, the
+editor of the Purple, and Stearns, the track team captain. After
+exchanging greetings, Allan dropped his books back of the fence and
+swung himself onto the top rail.
+
+The sun was pleasant, the ten o'clock bell would not ring for several
+minutes, and there was an invitation in the way in which Mason edged
+away from the post. Allan was a warm admirer of Mason, and the fact
+that, as was natural, he seldom had an opportunity to speak with him
+made him glad of the present opportunity. There was but one topic of
+overwhelming interest at present, and that was the track and field meet
+with Robinson. With two successive defeats against them, and the added
+result of the last football game still in memory, it is not strange
+that Erskine men had set their hearts on administering a trouncing to
+the Brown and regaining something of their old athletic prestige. The
+boat race and the baseball contests were too far distant for present
+consideration.
+
+"I don't know when there's been so much enthusiasm over the athletic
+meet as there is this year," said Mason. "And it's bound to tell, too.
+I've noticed that when the college as a whole wakes up and wants a
+thing it generally comes pretty near getting it."
+
+"We wanted the football game badly enough," said Stearns.
+
+"Yes, just as we want all of them, but there wasn't the enthusiasm
+there has been some years. I think we expected to win, and so didn't
+get much wrought up over it. But next year--although you and I won't
+be here to see it, Walt--I'll bet the college will be red-headed over
+football; there'll be mass-meetings and the band up from Hastings, and
+Ware here will be marching out to the field singing 'Glory, Glory for
+the Purple' at the top of his lungs. And the team will just naturally
+go in and win."
+
+"At that rate," ventured Allan, "we ought to lick Robinson on Saturday,
+for, as you say, the fellows are all worked up over it."
+
+"I think we're going to," answered Mason, with quiet conviction. "But,
+of course, I don't know so much about it as Walt here, and he says I'm
+off my reckoning."
+
+Allan looked at the captain with surprise. All along Stearns had
+displayed a confidence that, in Allan's case at least, had been a great
+incentive to hard work. Stearns frowned a little as he answered:
+
+"Oh, well, maybe to-morrow I'll be hopeful again. A fellow can't help
+having a spell of nerves now and then, you know."
+
+"Well, if it's only that, we'll forgive you," Mason replied. "I thought
+maybe something had happened. Things have a way of happening, I've
+noticed, just before a meet; Jones lames his ankle, Brown is put on
+probation, Smith is protested, or something else unforeseen plays
+havoc."
+
+"That's so," said Stearns, emphatically, "and maybe one reason I feel
+uneasy is because nothing _has_ happened; Robinson hasn't protested any
+one and no one has sprained his ankle or got water on the knee. I think
+I'd feel safer if something of the sort had occurred."
+
+"Well, I guess you're safe now," laughed Mason. "The men have quit
+practise and Robinson's opportunity for protesting our best men has
+passed."
+
+"I don't know," said Stearns, doubtfully. "Something will turn up, you
+see if it doesn't."
+
+"Nonsense! How about you, Ware? Going to win the two miles?"
+
+"I'm scared to think about it," answered Allan, uneasily. "That
+Robinson crack can do better than I've succeeded in doing yet, and so I
+guess I'll have to be satisfied with second place."
+
+"Oh, Ware's all right," said Stearns, encouragingly. "He's going to
+present us with five points, and we'll need 'em!"
+
+This sounded more like the Stearns Allan was accustomed to.
+
+"They tell me that chum of yours, Burley, is going to do great things
+with the shot, Ware," said Mason, questioningly.
+
+"I hope so," Allan answered. "He can, all right; the only thing is
+whether he will get fussed and forget how; he's funny that way."
+
+"Well, Billy thinks he's a wonder, and says that by next year he'll
+be able to give a foot to the best college man in the country. Well,
+there's the bell. I hate to waste a day like this indoors, but--needs
+must when the faculty drives!"
+
+The trio slipped off the fence and went their separate ways, but before
+they parted Stearns drew Allan aside.
+
+"I say, Ware," he said, "don't say anything to any one about what--what
+you've heard. There's no use in discouraging them, you know, and what
+I just said doesn't amount to anything; I guess I'm feeling a bit
+nervous. You understand?"
+
+But Allan, as he crossed the yard to College Hall, in the tower of
+which the bell was clanging its imperative summons, couldn't help
+feeling apprehensive and worried. It was so unlike Stearns to admit
+even the possibility of defeat. On the steps Allan ran against Pete,
+big, smiling, and serenely satisfied with life.
+
+"How'd you get on yesterday?" asked Allan, as they went in together.
+
+"Oh, pretty middlin'," said Pete, cheerfully. "I got within four inches
+of that cayuse of a Monroe."
+
+"But you'll have to beat him if you expect to win over Robinson," said
+Allan, anxiously.
+
+"Oh, I'm not bothering about Robinson," answered Pete. "If I can do up
+Monroe, that's all I give a hang about!"
+
+The next afternoon, Thursday, Stearns appeared at Allan's room, looking
+excessively cheerful.
+
+"Hello!" he said, as he sat down. "How are things?"
+
+"All right," answered the other, wondering at the track captain's
+errand. "How about you?"
+
+"Fine as silk," he said. "Say, Ware, Robinson has sent a foolish
+letter, and asks the committee to look up your record. Of course," he
+went on, carelessly and hurriedly, "it's all poppycock, but they think
+they have a case, and so maybe you'd better walk over with me and see
+Nast about it; just explain things so he can write back to 'em, you
+know. Are you busy?"
+
+Allan, bewildered and dismayed, looked across at Stearns with wide eyes
+and sinking heart. The track team captain's forebodings of yesterday
+flashed into memory, and it was with a very weak voice that he asked
+finally:
+
+"You mean that--that Robinson has protested me?"
+
+Stearns laughed carelessly, but something in the other's tone sent a
+qualm of uneasiness to his heart.
+
+"Oh, there's no question of a protest," he answered, "because the time
+for protests has gone by. But, of course, they knew the committee would
+investigate the matter, and that if everything wasn't all right they
+wouldn't allow you to run. But, of course, as I say, it's all nonsense.
+They say you were entered in the mile run at the St. Thomas Club Meet,
+in Brooklyn, during vacation, and came in third. And--and there's a
+silly newspaper clipping with your name in it. But, as I told Nast, you
+can explain that all right, I guess. Fact is, you know," he continued,
+with a little annoyed laugh, "you've got to; we can't afford to lose
+you, Ware."
+
+Allan took his cap from the desk.
+
+"Come on," he said, quietly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+A NEWSPAPER PARAGRAPH
+
+
+During the short walk across the yard little was said. Stearns now
+and then shot puzzled and anxious glances at Allan's face, but the
+latter looked straight ahead of him, and Stearns learned nothing. In
+the office Professor Nast approached the subject at once. The Robinson
+authorities, he stated, had written, saying that Ware had won third
+prize in the mile event at an indoor meet of the St. Thomas Club,
+in Brooklyn, on the evening of December 26th, and in support of the
+contention enclosed a clipping from a newspaper. The clipping was
+handed to Allan, and he read, opposite a big blue pencil mark:
+
+"Mile run--Won by E. C. Scheur, N. Y. C. C. A. (45 yds.); second, T.
+Webb, St. T. A. A. (45 yds.); third, A. Ware, E. A. A. (50 yds.).
+Time--4m. 47s."
+
+Allan returned the clipping calmly.
+
+"You understand," said the professor, gently, "that the mere fact
+of your having entered this meeting without permission would not of
+itself render you ineligible on Saturday. The trouble is that the
+meeting"--here he tapped the newspaper clipping with his pencil--"was
+not an amateur affair; the prizes were purses of money, and, being an
+'open' meeting, there were, as you may see, a number of professionals
+participating. That--er--is the difficulty."
+
+"I know nothing about it," said Allan, quietly.
+
+Stearns sank back in his chair with a long sigh of relief. "I told you
+it was all nonsense!" he exclaimed. The professor himself looked well
+pleased.
+
+"I did not run in that meeting," continued Allan. "I have been in
+Brooklyn but once, and that was fully six years ago."
+
+"I am very glad to hear it," said the professor, "very glad. Now,
+while I am not in duty bound to explain the matter to the Robinson
+authorities, yet it is better for various reasons to do so. And there
+is one thing--" He paused and tapped the desk frowningly. "About this
+clipping?" he asked. Allan shook his head.
+
+"I'm afraid I can't explain that. Perhaps there's another 'A. Ware' and
+perhaps 'E. A. A.' stands for something else besides Erskine Athletic
+Association."
+
+"Stands for lots of things, probably," said Stearns, a bit impatiently.
+
+"We might find that out," mused the professor. "Where were you, Ware,
+that evening, the--ah--yes, the twenty-sixth of December?"
+
+"I was in New York, visiting my aunt on Seventy-third Street. I was in
+the house all the evening, except for about half an hour, when I went
+out on an errand."
+
+"Well, you couldn't have crossed the river to Brooklyn, run a mile race
+and returned home in half an hour," said the professor, lightly. "Now,
+will you get your aunt to write me a letter, stating those facts and
+assuring me that you were not and could not have been in Brooklyn? It
+is not, you understand, that I doubt your word, Ware, but I have my
+duties in these affairs and I must perform them. Simply a letter, you
+understand, will suffice."
+
+"I will do my best," Allan replied; "but----"
+
+"Eh?" shouted Stearns.
+
+"But my aunt has left New York city and is traveling in the West,
+probably in California now. I shall have to find her address from my
+mother first, and by that time----"
+
+"Now, look here, sir," interrupted Stearns. "Surely Ware's word of
+honor is enough in a case of this sort? It's only a--a coincidence of
+names, sir."
+
+"For my own satisfaction Mr. Ware's word is sufficient," replied the
+chairman, with dignity, "but the rules require evidence, and I must
+have it. I only ask Mr. Ware to supply me with a statement from some
+person who knows of his whereabouts on the evening in question.
+Perhaps there is some other person who will do as well?" But Allan
+shook his head.
+
+"No, sir, I'm afraid not. My aunt lives alone except for the servants,
+and I saw no one I knew that evening. I will telegraph to my mother at
+once, and perhaps I will be able to get a letter from my aunt before
+Saturday. But it's a pretty short time."
+
+"Produce your evidence any time before the two-mile race is called,"
+said the chairman, kindly, "and it will be all right. And, by the way,
+a telegram will answer as well as a letter, if your--er--aunt is in the
+West. I am anxious to help you in every way possible, and I regret that
+the duties of my office require me to be or--er--seem exacting. Another
+thing, Ware; the Athletic Association will incur all the expenses of
+telegraphing in this affair; and you need not--ah--spare money. Good
+morning."
+
+"Oh, it will be all right," said Stearns, cheerfully, as they hurried
+together to the telegraph office. But Allan shook his head despondently.
+
+"No, I've felt ever since yesterday that something would happen to ball
+things up. And now it's happened. And I don't believe I'll hear from my
+aunt in time. However, I wouldn't have got better than second place,
+anyway. But I did want to run," he ended, dolorously.
+
+"Nonsense! Cheer up! We'll make the wires hum. We've got pretty near
+two whole days, and we can telegraph around the world fifty times in
+two days."
+
+The telegram asking for his aunt's address was duly despatched to his
+mother in New Haven, and after that there was nothing left to do save
+wait her reply. Allan parted from Stearns and went dejectedly back to
+his room. There he found Pete engaged in a carouse with Two Spot. They
+wouldn't let Pete practise with the shot to-day, or again before the
+meet, and he was feeling quite lost in consequence. Allan wanted some
+one to unfold his tale of woe to, and he was glad to find Pete awaiting
+him. Pete, as the story was told, grew very indignant, and offered to
+punch Professor Nast's head. But Allan finally convinced him that the
+chairman of the Athletic Committee wasn't at all to blame.
+
+"It's a beastly way to have things end, after you've been practising
+hard all spring," he said, as he arose impatiently from his chair and
+strolled to the desk. A Latin book was lying on the blotter, with
+a slip of paper marking the page where Allan had been at work when
+Stearns appeared. Now he opened the book, crumpled the marker into a
+ball and tossed it disgustedly onto the floor. Then he drew up a chair
+and plainly hinted that he desired to study. Pete, however, refused to
+heed the hint.
+
+"It's a mighty foolish business," he said, thoughtfully.
+
+Allan grunted.
+
+Two Spot had discovered the little ball of paper and was making believe
+that it was a mouse. She rolled it from under the couch with playful
+pawings and frantic rushes, and finally tossing it in the air, so that
+it fell at Pete's feet, she stopped, blinked at it and suddenly fell
+to washing her feet, as though too dignified to do aught else. Pete
+stooped absent-mindedly and picked up the bit of paper, unfolding it
+slowly and smoothing it across one huge knee.
+
+"Seems to me," he said presently, "you chaps have forgotten one thing."
+
+"What's that?" Allan asked, ungraciously.
+
+"To wire the St. Thomas Club people and ask them if you ran in their
+old meeting."
+
+"Well, that's so," said Allan, hopefully. "But, then, there was
+probably some one there named 'A. Ware,' and they'd just answer 'yes.'"
+
+"Ask 'em if Allan Ware, of Erskine, ran in the meeting, and, if he
+didn't, who the dickens the 'A. Ware' was who did run. Tell you've got
+to know in a hurry, and that it's blamed important."
+
+"By Jove!" exclaimed Allan, "that's a good idea. Funny we didn't think
+of it, wasn't it?"
+
+For answer Pete grunted, as though he didn't think it at all funny.
+
+"Hello, who's 'Horace L. Pearson, N. Y. A. C.'?" asked Pete, holding up
+the scrap of paper rescued from Two Spot, and which now proved to be
+torn from the program of the Boston indoor meeting.
+
+"I don't know; why?" asked Allan.
+
+"I used to know a fellow of that name out in Colorado. He was sort of
+studying mining. What does 'N. Y. A. C.' mean?"
+
+"New York Athletic Club. It's probably the same fellow. I remember him
+now. He was the chap that thought Rindgely was me."
+
+"Eh?" asked Pete. "How was that?"
+
+So Allan told him, and Pete grew very thoughtful as the short narrative
+progressed. When Allan had finished he asked:
+
+"I suppose these fellows that do stunts at the Boston meet go to pretty
+near all of them, don't they?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know; a good many, I guess. Why?"
+
+"Just wondering," answered Pete. "Come on and send that telegram. If
+you address it to the president or treasurer or something, it will do,
+won't it?"
+
+"I'll send it to the chairman of the Athletic Committee," said Allan,
+seizing his hat. "I'm glad you thought of it, Pete. You're some good in
+the world, after all, aren't you?"
+
+"Sure. See you this evening. I want to see Tommy. Where do you suppose
+I'll find him?"
+
+"Oh, come on down to the telegraph office."
+
+"Can't; I want Tommy."
+
+"Well, try the Purple office; maybe he's there. Don't forget to come
+around to-night. I may get an answer from my mother by that time."
+
+Pete was successful. To be sure, Tommy wasn't in the office of the
+Purple, but Pete hadn't supposed he would be; Tommy wasn't so easily
+caught. But by tracing him from one place to another, Pete at last came
+up with him in the library, where he was eagerly securing data for an
+article on rowing which he was preparing for a Boston Sunday paper.
+
+"You see," he explained, hurriedly, "I don't know very much about
+rowing, but it wouldn't do to say so, and so I come here and consult
+these gentlemen." He indicated the half-dozen volumes by which he was
+surrounded. "If I only wrote what I knew, you see, I'd never make any
+money."
+
+"Well, that's the first time I ever heard you acknowledge you didn't
+know it all, from throwing to tying," said Pete.
+
+"Oh, a fellow has to keep up a front," said Tommy, shrewdly, with a
+grin.
+
+Pete slipped into the next chair, and for the next quarter of an hour
+they whispered fast and furiously. When Pete got up, he said:
+
+"This isn't for publication in your old paper, Tommy, you know. And
+don't say anything about it to any one, will you?"
+
+And Tommy pledged himself to secrecy, adding:
+
+"And I think you've got it, Pete. Are you going to see him to-night?"
+
+"As soon as I can find him in his room," Pete replied.
+
+"Then I'll come around to Allan's to-night and hear what's happened."
+
+"Maybe I won't tell Allan," answered Pete. "Anyhow, not unless I have
+to. I'll see what the coyote has to say for himself."
+
+"Rindgely? Oh, he'll have plenty to say, all right. He'll talk himself
+blue in the face if you let him."
+
+"Maybe I won't let him," answered Pete, grimly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+THE FRESHMAN GAME
+
+
+    "Your aunt was in Los Angeles California Monday expected stay
+    week address Mission House. Is anything wrong?      MOTHER."
+
+This message Allan found awaiting him when he hurried home from dinner
+that evening. So far so good, he reflected. But Monday was three
+days gone, and if his aunt had changed her mind and gone on!--well,
+he didn't like to consider that contingency. Seating himself at his
+desk, he composed two messages, one to his aunt and one to the manager
+of the Mission House. In the latter he requested that his message to
+Miss Mary G. Merrill be forwarded to her, in case she had left the
+hotel. In the other message he finally expressed, at the expense of
+thirty-four words, what he wanted his aunt to do. Then he hurried again
+to the telegraph office and begged the emotionless operator to get both
+messages off at once. The operator nodded silently.
+
+"You haven't received any other message for me, have you?" asked
+Allan. The operator as silently shook his head. Allan wandered back
+to his room. Studying was a task this evening, and he was glad when
+Tommy demanded admittance. A few minutes later Pete, too, arrived,
+looking very satisfied with life. Allan did not notice the exchange of
+glances between the last comer and Tommy, and if he had he would not
+have understood them, nor would he have connected them with the matter
+uppermost in his thoughts. Tommy raised his eyebrows inquiringly and
+Pete nodded with a smile and mysteriously tapped the breast of his coat.
+
+Allan was full of his quandary and found much relief in telling
+everything to Tommy and exhibiting the telegrams received and
+copies of those sent. Pete, strange to say, and somewhat to Allan's
+disappointment, did not display the amount of interest in the subject
+which Allan thought he should have; and even Tommy seemed soon to tire
+of the matter. Allan fell into silence, reflecting pessimistically on
+the readiness of your friends to abandon your troubles. Pete and Tommy
+left early--Tommy had been on the point of leaving ever since his
+arrival--and with their parting injunctions to "cheer up" and "don't
+let it bother you" in his ears, Allan went sorrowfully to bed.
+
+The next day was Friday, and it dawned cloudy and chill. May has its
+moods, even in Centerport, but it was unfortunate that it should have
+displayed the fact to-day, for the gloominess of the weather increased
+Allan's despondency until Two Spot, blinking inquiringly from the
+Morris chair, saw that the world was awry and decided to go to sleep
+until things were righted again. And the answer to his St. Thomas Club
+message, which came just before noon, did not tend to lighten Allan's
+spirits.
+
+"Ware of Erskine," it ran, "won third in mile run December
+twenty-sixth."
+
+Allan, as he tossed the sheet of buff paper angrily aside, wondered
+whether, after all, he had not taken part in the meeting while
+temporarily unbalanced; he had heard of such things, he thought. Or
+perhaps he had fallen asleep and--but no, his imagination couldn't
+conceive of any one running a mile race and negotiating inclined
+corners without waking up! It was a strange and maddening mystery,
+and the more he puzzled over it the stranger it seemed and the more
+exasperated he became.
+
+Stearns called after lunch and listened to an account of the
+developments with perfunctory interest. He had given up hope of having
+Allan enter the meet, and had decided that it didn't much matter. For
+it was evident that Allan was worried and nervous, and the chances
+that he would give a good account of himself, if he ran, were slim.
+Stearns was sympathetic, but Allan could see that he, like Pete and
+Tommy, wasn't inclined to let the matter trouble him overmuch.
+
+After the track captain had left, Allan fell into still deeper
+despondency and mooned about his room--which was the last thing he
+should have done--until four o'clock, when a half-hour of jogging on
+the track took him out. No reply from Aunt Mary had reached him by
+dinner time, and although he stayed awake until eleven, in violation of
+training orders, listening eagerly for the opening of the gate which
+should announce the advent of the messenger, he was at last forced to
+go to sleep without the message. You may be certain his sleep did him
+little good. He dreamed all night, or so it seemed, and morning found
+him tired and haggard. His first look was toward the door-sill, but no
+buff envelope rewarded it.
+
+"That settles it," he muttered, bitterly; "I'm not going to hope any
+longer."
+
+Having reached this decision, he threw back his shoulders and walked
+to breakfast whistling a tune. To be sure, the tune wasn't always
+tuneful, and sometimes it died out entirely, but it was a brave
+effort. Breakfast at the training table was an uncomfortable meal for
+him. The others were in the best of spirits, and there was present a
+half-suppressed excitement that showed itself on the countenances and
+in the bearing of the fellows.
+
+None there save Stearns and Pete knew of Allan's trouble, and they
+gave no sign. Pete even seemed to Allan to be indecently happy, and
+his attempts at conversation met with scant encouragement. Half-way
+through the meal Rindgely's absence was discovered, and Kernahan was
+despatched to hunt him up. He had not returned when Allan left the
+house. Every one was cautioned to spend the forenoon out-of-doors and
+report promptly at eleven-thirty for lunch.
+
+The town soon took on a gala appearance. The sidewalks were thronged by
+ten o'clock, and none seemed to have anything to do save discuss the
+outcome of the afternoon's performances. Erskine banners hung from the
+shop windows and fluttered over front doors. Pete wanted Allan to go
+out to the field with him and see the Erskine-Robinson freshman game,
+but Allan had no heart for it, and refused to leave his room. He had no
+recitations, for the professors had very generally given cuts. He wrote
+a letter to his mother--a very dismal production it was, too--and then
+sat at the window with Two Spot in his lap and watched the crowds pass
+on their way to the game.
+
+The college band, followed by a mob of singing, cheering freshmen,
+went by in a cloud of dust, and presently a barge containing the home
+nine passed, and Allan had a glimpse of Hal's gray-clad shoulders.
+The Robinson youngsters had already gone out. The steady stream of
+townfolk and students became broken; groups of three and four passed at
+intervals; now and then a couple of students, laughing and chatting,
+or a solitary mortal hurried by the house. Then, quite suddenly, as it
+seemed, all traffic ceased, and Poplar Street resumed its wonted quiet.
+
+Half an hour later Allan's eyes, roaming from the magazine which he was
+striving to read, sighted a faded blue coat across the little park, and
+his heart leaped into his throat. A messenger boy, whistling a blithe
+tune, toiled slowly along, as though his shoulders bore the weight of
+a great sorrow. Once, when almost at the corner, he stopped, leaned
+against the fence and seemed on the point of going to sleep. Then he
+roused himself and came on. Allan restrained an impulse to dart out
+into the road and waited on the porch, with his heart beating like a
+trip-hammer. The boy reached the corner, glanced with mild interest at
+Allan--and went on up Main Street.
+
+After the first moment of blank and sickening dismay, Allan went to
+the end of the porch and looked after him. Perhaps, after all, he was
+mistaken, and would discover the fact and turn back. But eventually the
+lad sauntered across the street and disappeared around the corner of
+McLean. Allan went back to his chair, his heart like lead and a lump in
+his throat that wouldn't be swallowed.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Out at Erskine Field great things were happening. The purple-lettered
+youngsters were more than holding their own against the far-heralded
+team of Robinson. It was the sixth inning, and the score stood 9 to
+5 in Erskine's favor. Hal had played a magnificent game at second
+and already had a double-play to his credit, and had, besides,
+succeeded beyond all of his team-mates at hitting the redoubtable
+brown-stockinged pitcher. Side by side on the warm turf back of
+third-base, Tommy and Pete were sitting cross-legged, having passed the
+ropes by virtue of Tommy's ever-present note-book, with its staring
+inscription, "Erskine Purple," on the cover. The last man of the
+Erskine side went out, the teams changed places, the seventh inning
+began with Robinson's tail-enders coming to the plate, and Pete resumed
+his narrative, which had been interrupted by Hal's hard drive to
+left-field.
+
+"He didn't have any idea what I had come for," Pete said, "and was
+going to be very nice and polite; he can be when he likes, you know.
+But I wasn't there to pass compliments or swap stories, so I got right
+down out of the saddle and talked business. 'Rindgely, I know that you
+ran in the St. Thomas Club meet in Brooklyn the night after Christmas,
+under the name of A. Ware, and won fifteen dollars,' I said, 'and
+you've got to come out in the open and say so.' Of course, it was a
+rank bluff; I was pretty certain about it after I'd talked with you,
+but I didn't know absolutely, and couldn't prove anything. If he had
+kept his nerve and told me to go to thunder, it would have been all off
+on the spot, and I'd had to crawl off with my tail between my legs.
+But it took him so sudden that he just gasped and got pale around the
+gills. Then I knew I had him roped. So I just waded in and gave it
+to him hot and heavy. Told him he was a horse-thief and an all-round
+galoot; that he ought to be ashamed of himself, and a lot more. When I
+got through he was a pretty sick steer. I had him hog-tied and branded.
+Then he began to play fair.--Ginger! look at that hit! Good work!
+That's two out, ain't it? Only one? Well, it ought to be two."
+
+"And then what?" asked Tommy, making strange marks in the score-book on
+his knee.
+
+"Well, I got kind of sorry for the poor old jack-rabbit. He told me
+all about it, and swore up and down he hadn't meant any harm; that
+he wanted to try what he could do against some good men at the mile,
+and hadn't cared a hang about the money. 'But what did you use Ware's
+name for?' says I. 'Wasn't your own bad enough?' 'Because,' says he,
+'I didn't want my folks to know about it; they live there in Brooklyn,
+and might have seen my name in the paper next day. I didn't think about
+making myself ineligible,' says he, 'and I didn't think I was doing
+Ware any harm.' Well, that may be a lie, but he was sure in the dumps,
+and so I agreed to make things easy for him. 'You write it all out
+in black and white and sign your name to it,' says I, 'and if I can
+I'll keep dark about it. If Allan gets a message from his aunt, all
+right; if he doesn't, I show your document to Nast. I'll wait till the
+two-mile is called.' Bully for you, Hal! That's three, ain't it? Sure!
+Hit it out, Seven!"
+
+"You see," he went on, after the nines had changed places and the
+Erskine captain had seized his bat, "you see, I didn't want to be any
+harder on Rindgely than I had to. He said if the faculty got hold of
+it they'd be sure to either bounce him bodily or hold up his diploma.
+Well, I guess they would, all right, eh?"
+
+"Sure to," answered Tommy, promptly, as he marked the first man out at
+first, scored an assist to the credit of the opposing pitcher and a
+put-out to that of the Brown's first-baseman.
+
+"So that's the way we fixed it up. And I hope Allan gets word from
+auntie, for I'm blessed if I want Rindgely to get kicked out without
+graduating. It would be hard luck for a chap to do four years at hard
+labor here and then slip up just when he was going to grab the prize,
+wouldn't it?"
+
+"Hardest kind of luck," said Tommy. "Hope you don't have to show the
+confession."
+
+Erskine went out in one, two, three order and the eighth inning
+commenced. The band was doing gallant work and Pete found conversation
+beyond his powers until the last strains of a lively two-step had
+died away. By that time the Brown's second man had been retired, and
+Robinson's hopes were dwindling fast.
+
+"Is he going to run this afternoon?" asked Tommy.
+
+Pete shook his head.
+
+"No; you see, I couldn't let him do that; it would be against the law;
+if Allan couldn't run he couldn't, and that's certain."
+
+"No, he hasn't any right to," said Tommy, thoughtfully. "He's plainly
+ineligible because he ran for money; and then, there would be other
+reasons."
+
+"Well, that's the way I figured it out," said Pete, with a note of
+relief in his voice. He was glad to have his decision supported by
+some one who knew more about such things. "But he saw himself that it
+was all up with him as a runner. He said he'd be sick to-day, and,
+as he wasn't at breakfast, I guess he is. I'll bet Dr. Prentiss will
+have a hard time finding out what's wrong with him." And Pete chuckled
+wickedly.
+
+"All out," said Tommy. "Say, Hal! Oh, _Hal_! Give us a home run, Hal!
+Get out! Of course you can. We want some more runs."
+
+"I guess we don't stand much show of winning this afternoon," went
+on Pete. "With Rindgely out of it and Allan all balled up, I can see
+Robinson getting a few points."
+
+"They'll win first in the mile, all right," answered Tommy. "Hooker's
+not in the same class with Rindgely this spring, and Harris isn't a bit
+better; though maybe he'll manage to get placed. As for Allan, he never
+has had any too good a chance at the two miles, and now, after all this
+rumpus, it's a fair bet he'll be out of it entirely. It's a mean shame
+the way things have gone, and when you think that it's all Rindgely's
+fault, expulsion doesn't seem a bit too bad for him."
+
+"Maybe," said Pete, doubtfully, "but I don't want to be the feller to
+get him bounced; that's all. If Allan's confounded old relative doesn't
+come to time I'll--well, I guess I'll give Rindgely's statement to you
+and let you attend to things."
+
+"You've got another guess, Pete," said Tommy. "_I_ don't want anything
+to do with it. Besides, you worked the racket and ought to see it out."
+
+Pete sighed dolefully.
+
+"I suppose I'll have to," he murmured.
+
+Again the inning closed without a tally, and Robinson came in for her
+last turn at bat. Her players looked very determined, and it seemed
+not impossible that they would go in and make up the four runs that
+threatened to defeat them. And the band played again. Pete and Tommy
+were driven from their places by the crowd, which had left the stands
+and were invading the field, and they allowed themselves to be pushed
+forward to the foul-line.
+
+"I suppose Allan thinks I'm a brute," said Pete, dismally. "I didn't go
+near him last night. But I just couldn't stand seeing him so miserable,
+and not blurting out everything I knew. So I fought shy. I just hope it
+ends all right."
+
+Whether that ended all right another chapter will have to tell, but
+there was no doubt about the game ending that way. Robinson went down
+before superb pitching, and with the score still 9 to 5, the spectators
+flooded over the field and their cheers drowned even the band.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+"ON YOUR MARK!"
+
+
+Once more the crowds were moving out to Erskine Field. It was after one
+o'clock, and experienced persons knew that there were no reserved seats
+and that "first come first served" was the rule. The midday sun shone
+warmly and only enthusiasts looked forward with pleasure to sitting on
+the unshaded stands for the next three hours. Robinson's athletes went
+out William Street in two barges, their paraphernalia following them in
+a tumble-down express wagon drawn by a limping sorrel nag, whose bridle
+was draped with brown and white.
+
+The contents of the barges were viewed with polite interest, but the
+wagon awakened amusement on the part of sober citizens and ribald mirth
+on the part of undignified undergraduates. Nearing the field, the eyes
+caught sight above the tree-tops of the great purple banner, with its
+snowy E, which fluttered lazily at the top of the tall staff. At half
+after one the stands were thickly sprinkled with spectators, and the
+flutter of programs--used in lieu of fans--was visible across the
+field; with a little imagination one could have likened the ladies, in
+their bright and many-colored gowns and hats, to flowers, and thought
+the fluttering programs lighter petals stirred in a breeze.
+
+On the track, runners and sprinters were jogging to and fro and on the
+edge of the field the officials were gathering, their purple and gold
+badges glowing bravely in the sunlight. Two big tents had been erected
+at the end of the oval nearest the gates, and about them white-garbed
+contestants lay or sat on outspread dressing-gowns, while rubbers and
+trainers came and went among them like anxious hens among their broods.
+
+In front of the Erskine dressing-tent sat Allan. He had been up and
+down the straightaway three times and was still breathing heavily as
+a result. He had no hope now of being allowed to enter his event, and
+even if he were, he reflected, he would stand small show of winning,
+since it was evident that he was in poor shape. Physically he seemed
+fit enough, but he was aware all the time of a feeling of nervousness
+and depression that was ill-calculated to help him in a grueling two
+miles.
+
+Word had been left at the telegraph office that if a message came for
+him it was to be rushed out to the field as fast as possible, and to
+this end a horse and buggy from Pike's stable was already standing
+in front of the door. Stearns was taking no chances, for now that
+Rindgely had been declared too ill to enter the contest, another five
+points were almost certain to go to Robinson, and if it was possible
+for Allan to enter the two miles and make a fight for a place, he must
+do it. Stearns was worried and down-hearted.
+
+Even the most optimistic calculators could not figure a victory for
+Erskine with first places in both the long-distance events conceded to
+her rival. As a last resort, Stearns had secured the postponement of
+the two miles to the tag end of the afternoon. He had thrown himself on
+the generosity of the Robinson captain and explained the predicament.
+
+And the Robinson captain, who was Brooks, their crack hurdler, had
+consented, a piece of sportsmanship which met with the condemnation of
+his trainer and many of the team. But the expedient promised to work
+little good, for it was plain that if Allan's telegram to his aunt
+had reached her she would have replied not later than yesterday. But
+Stearns was in desperate straits and no chance was too slight for him
+to seize upon.
+
+At a few minutes after two o'clock the pistol was heard from the far
+end of the straightaway, and Erskine took the first honors of the meet,
+Stearns securing first place and Leroy second in the 100 yards dash,
+and earning 8 points for the Purple.
+
+To chronicle the afternoon's proceedings in detail would be a tiresome
+as well as an unnecessary task. In the 120 yards hurdles, which
+followed the first dash, and in the 220 yards hurdles, which came later
+on the program, Robinson had things pretty much her own way, Brooks,
+her captain, taking first place handily in each. Robinson won 12 points
+in these events, and Erskine 6. Stearns again showed his mettle in
+the 220 dash, and Robinson got second and third; 5 points for Erskine
+and 4 points for her adversary. In the quarter-mile the best the home
+team could do was to secure third place, and that by the narrowest
+margin, though the time, 50-2/5 seconds, was absurdly slow. When the mile
+was called, the 220 yards hurdles had not been run and the score on
+Professor Nast's sheet stood: Erskine, 18; Robinson, 18. So far things
+were happening in a way that brought joy to the professor's heart, but
+the field events were still undecided and the long distances were yet
+to run.
+
+The mile event worked the audience up to the highest stage of
+excitement, and for a long while, in fact until the three-quarters had
+been passed, the race was most anybody's. But after that Coolbroth of
+Robinson sprang into the lead, closely pursued by Harris of Erskine,
+and Patterson of Robinson. The finish was made in that order, Harris
+and Patterson fighting for second honors all the way around the last
+lap, and Harris finally winning his 3 points by a bare two yards. The
+hammer throw was decided about this time, and Robinson was credited
+with first and third, Monroe winning second for Erskine. The score
+now was not so satisfactory to the supporters of the Purple, since it
+stood: Erskine, 24; Robinson, 30.
+
+The Purple exceeded expectations in the broad jump, allowing her rival
+but 1 point. In the high jump, however, she didn't show up so well;
+Robinson took first and third places. After the 220 yards hurdles,
+which, as has been already told, were won by Brooks, Erskine securing
+but 1 point, the score was heavily in the Brown's favor, 45 to 36. By
+this time the afternoon had worn well toward sunset. Only the shot-put,
+the 880 yards run, the pole-vault and the two miles remained. Of these,
+Robinson was conceded 8 points in the pole-vault, 5 in the shot-put
+and 1 in the 880. It was difficult to see how Erskine could pull out
+of the meet ahead. In fact, it was evident that she couldn't. Even
+Tommy, normally optimistic, had lost hope. While the competitors in the
+hurdles were trotting off to the tents he hurried across to where the
+shot-putters were at work. As he approached, six of the nine candidates
+were donning their dressing-gowns, and he knew that the trials were
+over and that the six were out of it. Then he pursed his lips and
+whistled softly. Of the three competitors remaining for the finals, two
+were Erskine men, Monroe and--yes, the other was Pete! The Robinson
+candidate was Tiernan, who had won first in the hammer throw. Pete
+hailed Tommy and drew him aside.
+
+"Have you got that paper safe?" he asked.
+
+"Yes." Tommy reassured him by allowing a corner of it to peep forth
+from his inside pocket. Pete nodded and glanced toward the tent.
+
+"For goodness' sake, don't lose it," he said. "And keep a watch for the
+two miles. We're not through here yet and I don't want the scheme to
+slip up."
+
+"All right. And say, Pete!"
+
+"Yep?"
+
+"Do your best, old man, won't you?" begged Tommy. "They're 'way ahead
+of us, but if we get first and third out of this we may have a fighting
+chance."
+
+"Well, we'll see," said Pete, untroubled. "I've got Monroe dead to
+rights, anyway."
+
+"Yes, but beat Tiernan, Pete; we've _got_ to win!"
+
+"Well, just as you say, Tommy," answered Pete, smiling at the other's
+look of tragedy. "For your sake, Tommy, I'll do my best."
+
+"Burley!" called the field judge, and Pete drew his sweater off and
+stepped into the ring. There were three competitors remaining, and each
+was allowed three tries, the best of which was to count. Pete picked up
+the shot, took up his position at the rear of the circle, placed the
+weight in his broad right hand, threw his left arm out to balance him,
+raised his left foot from the ground, and then, with a motion that was
+neither hop nor glide, reached the front of the circle, brought his
+right shoulder smartly round and sent the weight flying. The measurer
+started to lay the end of the tape where the shot had struck, but
+stopped at judge's announcement.
+
+"Foul," said the latter. "You overstepped, Burley."
+
+Pete nodded carelessly and donned his sweater again. Kernahan, who had
+approached during the try, beckoned to him, and they stepped aside.
+
+"That won't do, Pete," said Billy. "Keep that elbow in to the body; you
+had it spread way out that time. And mind the stop. Take all the time
+you want, you know; there's no hurry."
+
+Pete grinned.
+
+"_That's_ all right," he said. "Don't worry about me, Billy. I'll get
+it away all right next time."
+
+Monroe followed with a put of 43 feet 6 inches, and Tiernan bettered
+this by half a foot. Again Pete peeled his sweater off and took up the
+shot. As he stood there, balancing himself, he looked, with a careless,
+good-natured smile on his face, like a giant who, for his amusement,
+had entered the sports of pigmies. He was taller than Tiernan and
+bigger everywhere than Monroe; the judge came barely to his shoulder.
+The muscles of his arms were like great ropes under the clear skin.
+Once more he crossed the ring, and once more the leaden ball was hurled
+forward. From the stands came a chorus of applause. Tommy's face
+lighted, and even Billy gave an appreciative nod. The Robinson trainer,
+standing across the circle, shot a quick glance at Pete as he stepped
+out and took his sweater from the turf.
+
+"Forty-four feet seven inches," announced the judge, as he held the
+tape to the edge of the stop-board. Tommy clapped Pete on the shoulder
+and whispered his delight. Pete smiled good-humoredly.
+
+"All out for the 880!" cried a voice across the oval. "Hurry up,
+half-milers!"
+
+Monroe made his second try, and the tape said 44 feet 1 inch. He turned
+away in disgust. Pete smiled. Robinson's champion took plenty of time
+at his next try, and made a splendid put. He had exceeded Pete's best
+attempt and there was a breathless silence around the ring as the tape
+was adjusted. Then,
+
+"Forty-five feet two inches," said the judge.
+
+The Robinson trainer, who had looked anxious a moment since, smiled
+demurely. Over on the starting line the half-milers were being placed.
+Along the length of the stands the spectators were leaving their seats
+here and there. Pete stepped into the seven-foot circle for his last
+try. Tommy, a few feet away, watched him eagerly. With the shot in
+his right hand, Pete looked across and dropped his left eyelid in a
+portentous wink.
+
+Tommy's heart sank. If Pete would only stop his fooling for a minute,
+he thought, and really put his heart into it! And while the thought
+came to him, Pete was hopping across the ring and poising himself for
+an instant at the front edge. Then his body swung around, his right
+arm shot out like a steel spring, and the shot went arching over the
+ground. Tommy's heart leaped into his throat and then thumped wildly.
+From the stands whose occupants were near enough to be able to follow
+the shot-putting came a great roar of applause. Tommy, with his eyes
+fixed intently on the tape, felt a hand seize his arm and pull him
+around.
+
+"Come along," said Pete, "and find Nast."
+
+"Wait! Wait till we find out----"
+
+"Find out nothing," said Pete. "Monroe can't touch that put!"
+
+But even as Tommy hung back the judge looked up from the tape with a
+smile on his face.
+
+"Forty-five feet eleven inches!" he said.
+
+"_Oh, bully!_" cried Tommy. "But Tiernan----"
+
+"Huh!" said Pete.
+
+From across the field came the sharp report of the pistol sending
+the half-milers away, and as Pete and Tommy hurried to the tents the
+white-clad runners swept by in a bunch on the first of their two laps,
+Poor and Tolmann side by side in the lead, and Thatcher, Erskine's main
+hope, running warily well toward the rear. Around the turns they went
+and entered the back-stretch, hundreds of voices urging them on.
+
+Allan, a depressed-looking figure in his dragging drab gown, met them
+as they crossed the track. There was no use asking him whether he had
+received the longed-for message; one glance at his face was sufficient.
+Pete took him aside out of the throng.
+
+"You're going to run, Allan," he said, in low tones, "so get warmed up.
+Now, don't ask any questions, for I can't answer 'em yet. Just do as I
+tell you. It's all right; you're going to run, and if you don't win out
+I'll--I'll lick you!"
+
+The expression of hope which had at first leaped into Allan's face died
+out again, but a look of curiosity remained.
+
+"What--what do you mean?" he asked, wonderingly.
+
+"Just what I say. You're going to run, and if you want to do anything
+in the race get your muscles stretched. Let go of me; I'm in a hurry.
+Have you seen Nast?"
+
+"I've found him," said Tommy, hurrying up. "He's gone over to the
+finish. Here come the half-milers. Track, there!"
+
+Once more the runners sped past, but now they were no longer bunched
+together. In front, leading by half a dozen yards, ran Poor. Next came
+Thatcher, then a Robinson man, then Tolmann. Behind Tolmann the rest of
+the field pegged away, already out of the reckoning, barring accidents.
+
+"All out for the two miles!" bawled the clerk.
+
+Pete shot a glance at Tommy and the latter nodded. Together they turned
+away.
+
+"Get a move on, Allan," cried Pete. "Don't stand there like a wooden
+Indian!" Allan, his face expressing wonder and returning hope, slipped
+quickly out of his dressing-gown.
+
+"I guess you're joking, Pete," he said, "but----"
+
+"Is Mr. Ware here?" piped a shrill voice, and the blue-coated messenger
+boy pushed his way through the throng about the tents. "Telegram for
+Mr. Ware!"
+
+With a cry Allan turned and seized the envelope from the boy's hands
+and tore it open. Under the gaze of dozens of curious eyes, he read the
+words on the still damp sheet of yellow paper and turned with exultant
+eyes to Pete and Tommy, who had paused at the edge of the track.
+
+"It's all right!" he cried. "Where's Nast?" And he sped off around the
+track. Tommy and Pete followed, and the latter, as he went, took a
+folded sheet of foolscap from his pocket and tore it into tiny pieces.
+
+"Hurry up for the two miles!" bawled the clerk again.
+
+When Allan reached the finish he was unable for a moment to reach
+Professor Nast, for the half-milers were tearing down the home-stretch
+and the crowd was thick about the tape. Shouts of triumph, roars of
+applause, arose. Down the cinders, their straining forms throwing long
+wavering shadows before them, came Thatcher, Tolmann, and a Robinson
+runner, the first two almost side by side, the third man four or five
+yards behind. Then, in an instant more, the red string fluttered away
+and Thatcher raced over the line, a winner by a bare yard over his
+team-mate.
+
+"Eight more points!" cried Tommy, gleefully. "Who knows how the
+shot-put came out?"
+
+"We got first and third," answered Hal, turning. "Hello, Tommy, is
+that you?" But Tommy was too busy casting up figures on his score to do
+more than nod.
+
+"Was Pete first?" he asked in a moment.
+
+"First! Gosh, he was first by almost a foot. Tiernan fouled on his last
+try, and----"
+
+"How about Monroe?" asked Pete, worming his way forward.
+
+"Hello, you old brick!" cried Hal, seizing his hand. "Why, Monroe did
+something like forty-four feet two, I think."
+
+"_That's_ all right," said Pete.
+
+By this time Allan had found Professor Nast, and the latter was reading
+the message. It ran:
+
+    "Allan was at my house New York evening December twenty-sixth
+    except between eight and eight-thirty o'clock when he went
+    errand for me Thirty-ninth street. Could not have gone to
+    Brooklyn and did not if he says so.      MARY G. MERRILL."
+
+The professor handed back the sheet of paper and put his hand on
+Allan's shoulder.
+
+"Good," he said, with satisfaction. "Go in and win, Ware."
+
+He pushed him toward where the long-distance men were assembling at
+the start. Allan waited for no more, but darted down the track. As he
+reached the group, his name was called and he answered as he slipped
+into the second line of runners. The next instant Stearns was pulling
+him aside, his eyes wide with eagerness.
+
+"Is it all right?" he whispered. "Did you get word?"
+
+"Yes, a minute ago. I've seen Nast."
+
+Stearns gave him a hug that left him almost breathless.
+
+"Thank goodness!" he said, softly. "The meet's tied at 54 points. The
+whole thing depends on this, and we've got to have first place, Ware,
+we've _got_ to! Watch that man Burns over there; the tall chap with the
+tow hair; he's dangerous. And-- Say, Billy," turning to the trainer, who
+had slipped across the track to them, "Ware's in it, after all. I was
+telling him to----"
+
+"Get the lead at the start, or as soon as you can, and just simply hold
+it, if you have to break a leg," said Billy, quietly. "How are you
+feeling?"
+
+"I--I don't know," answered Allan. "But--I guess I'm all right."
+
+"Good. See that light-haired Robinson man over there at the pole? Well,
+play for him, Ware. And don't let him head you for a minute. All right
+now."
+
+"All ready, there?" called the starter, as he dropped back and glanced
+at the pistol in his hand. There was an instant of silence. Then,
+
+"_On your mark!_" he cried.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+THE LAST EVENT
+
+
+Eleven men had entered for the two-mile run, six from Robinson and
+five from Erskine. Of these, we know Ware, Conroy, and Hooker, wearers
+of the purple ribbon, and have just heard of Burns, the Brown's crack
+long-distance runner. In view of the result of the race, it may be well
+to mention also Tammen, another Robinson entry, who, until to-day,
+had been viewed as a second-rater. For the others, they were big and
+little, fair and dark, and all with their spurs still to win. Taken
+together, they were a clean-built, healthy lot as they stood at the
+starting line, their white running pants and white shirts--the latter
+crossed by the purple ribbon or the brown and white--just tinged with
+saffron by the long rays of the setting sun. The starter glanced again
+at his pistol.
+
+"_Set!_" he cried.
+
+And as the runners put their weights forward and poised arms front
+and back, the pistol spoke and the spiked shoes bit at the cinders
+as the men strove for the inside of the track. The timers looked
+up from their watches and the group about the line broke up. Ten
+minutes--possibly a little less, perhaps a little more--must elapse
+before the result could be known and Erskine or Robinson could claim
+the meet. For by a freak of fortune each college had now 54 points
+to its credit, and final victory would go to that one whose colors
+first brushed the string at the finish. Whether the spring's labor and
+planning was to be crowned with victory or draped with defeat depended
+on who won first place and its 5 points.
+
+A knowledge of this accompanied Allan all through the race, now
+spurring him on to determined effort, now casting him into the depths
+of hopelessness and despair. The meet depended upon him, and he wished
+with all his heart that it didn't. For from the first instant he
+knew that he was not in a condition to do his best. He was aware of
+high-strung nerves and a general feeling of worry. For the latter there
+was no longer any reason; but reason or no reason, it remained. The
+last two days and their accompanying nights of unrefreshing slumber had
+had their effect. For the rest, his muscles were strong and supple, his
+lungs eager for their task.
+
+Half-way around the first lap he had secured the lead, none disputing
+it with him, and had settled down into that apparently slow pace
+which makes the two-mile event look so unexciting at the first. He
+knew himself capable of making that pace for the entire distance and
+finishing comparatively fresh, but he also knew that Burns, who was
+coming serenely along half-way back down the length of the string,
+could stand it quite as well, and could probably sprint in the last
+quarter mile and beat him out. He decided then to increase the pace, in
+the hope of wearing the Robinson crack out, yet knowing that to make
+too fast a race would finish him up just as surely as it would Burns.
+
+When the home-stretch was reached in that first lap Allan set his legs
+to faster work, and as he crossed the line and completed the eighth of
+his distance, supporters of the Purple shook their heads. It wouldn't
+do, they murmured; he would run himself out in the first mile and a
+half. Even Kernahan was a little worried, though nothing of the sort
+showed on his face. At the end of the second lap Allan had not abated
+his speed a jot.
+
+As he passed the groups around the finish and the tents, his eyes were
+set straight ahead, his long strides clung closely to the inner rim of
+the track and he was holding himself well erect. Into his cheeks the
+blood was creeping and dyeing them crimson, save for two disks that
+showed whiter and whiter as the contest wore on. Behind Allan ran an
+unknown Robinson man, then Hooker, then Tammen, then Burns. Conroy was
+dangerously far back, and, with others in his neighborhood, was showing
+that he didn't approve of the pace.
+
+Of all distances, the two miles is the hardest to run. Speed as a
+factor in success is largely eliminated, and endurance is the supreme
+test. The race requires a large courage on the part of the runner,
+the courage to endure. It has been said, and truly, that it takes a
+fast man for the sprints and a brave man for the distances. At the
+completion of the fourth lap it is safe to say that five of the six
+runners were as completely and hopelessly beaten as though the race was
+finishing. Their legs dragged, their heads were falling back, and their
+lungs were aching. But it had been the fastest half of a two-mile race
+ever run on Erskine Field.
+
+Of those in the van of the long line of runners, which now stretched
+half-way around the oval, only three maintained their form at the
+beginning of the fifth lap; those were Allan, Burns, and Tammen.
+Save that the unknown Robinson man who had held second place at the
+beginning had dropped back to fifth position, the order was unchanged.
+Between Allan and his team-mate, Hooker, there was three yards of
+cinders; between Hooker and Tammen, five yards more. Back of Tammen,
+only a stride separating them, ran Burns, untroubled, and holding his
+own with great, long, easy strides.
+
+The turf was strangely green, for the low slanting beams of the sun
+bathed it in their golden glow. The stands were almost deserted, for
+the occupants were clustered all along the home-stretch, their eager
+gaze following the white-clad figures on the darkening track.
+
+If Allan's form was still nearly what it had been at the beginning of
+the race, it must not be supposed that the mile had not told. Usually
+the two-miler finishes the half-distance in comparatively unwearied
+condition and faces his troubles from then on, but Allan had set a
+fast pace, and it had told on him, in spite of appearances. He felt
+as he usually did at the end of the mile and a half, and he wondered
+troubledly if he had not overdone it.
+
+At the turns, now and then, a backward glance revealed the confident
+face of Burns, while Hooker's tortured breathing told its own tale.
+Either he must last out or Robinson would take second and third
+positions, as well as first. But he had grown fearful of his ability to
+do so, and on the sixth lap he eased up on his pace. And half-way down
+the back-stretch he wondered if he had not, after all, made a mistake
+in doing so. For Burns, refusing to slow down, had bested Tammen and
+Hooker and was apparently striving to pass Allan. But at the beginning
+of the next lap, the seventh, Allan saw that the supreme struggle was
+not yet, for Burns had slipped in behind him, apparently content to let
+him set the pace for a while longer.
+
+Then Hooker began to drop back. He had done his best, but his best was
+not good enough. Tammen passed him and ranged himself behind Burns, and
+these three, when the last lap began, were leading the field by sixty
+yards or more. As they swept by the finish the shouts of the spectators
+made a deafening roar in their ears. Allan had a dim vision of Pete
+leaping alongside the track at the first turn, near the tents, waving
+his long arms against the sunset glow and shouting unintelligible
+things.
+
+Once around that first turn, Allan shot a glance over his shoulder and
+his heart leaped. Unless he was very much mistaken, Burns had lost
+ground. That was Allan's last turn of the head. From that time on it
+was merely a question of hugging the rim of the track and enduring the
+ache of limb and chest, doubting all the while his ability to hold his
+place and all the while determining to do it.
+
+He was right about Burns. That redoubtable runner had gone to pieces
+all in the minute. At the second turn he was plainly no longer
+dangerous to Allan, and back at the finish the throng roared its relief
+and delight. And while it was still shouting, Tammen shot around Burns
+and began to lessen the dozen or so yards between him and Allan. And
+Allan, hearing vaguely a new note in the voices across the field and
+the rapid pat of steps on the track behind him, guessed what was up and
+felt his heart sink. Here was a man who could sprint, something Allan
+had never been able to do satisfactorily, and here, in all probability,
+was the winner of the race! Those gazing obliquely across the oval saw
+Allan falter for a stride just at the farther turn, and their hearts
+sank.
+
+But after that first instant of what was something like terror, Allan
+pulled himself together. In his own words, it was up to him to win, and
+win he would, if only his breath would last that long. Tammen, three
+yards behind him, made no attempt to pass him at the turns, but kept
+himself in hand for the home-stretch. And Allan, grim and determined,
+weakening with every long gasp for breath, knew that when the track
+stretched straight before him to the distant white line the battle
+would really begin, and that in the length of that distance the meeting
+would be won or lost.
+
+And then he finished the turn and the rim ran straight beside him.
+And then the _pat_, _pat_ behind him crept nearer and nearer.
+Presently, when the stretch was half run, Allan was conscious, without
+looking--for he dared not take his eyes from the track ahead--of
+something grayish-white at his elbow.
+
+The time had come to do the impossible, to spur his weary limbs into
+renewed effort, to force his panting lungs to greater exertion, and
+to keep that grayish blur where it was. To have thrown himself--nay,
+to have simply let himself drop onto the grass beside the track and
+troubled no more about anything, would have been at that moment the
+greatest pleasure of a lifetime. But along the track voices were
+roaring and shrieking, and, although the words were sounds only, the
+meaning of them he knew. They wanted him to win, and the desire found a
+new echo in his heart. He wanted to win, and--why, yes, he _would_ win!
+
+And now the white line was in plain sight, although he didn't see
+it, and the roar of voices was rising and growing. For a moment it
+seemed to him that he was motionless, and that the dark ranks on
+either side were moving slowly past him. And at the moment a glimpse
+of whitish-gray at his right dispelled the illusion, and with a sob
+for breath, he forced himself on. Once in that remaining twenty yards
+he staggered, and the watchers held their breaths for fear, but he
+recovered himself and plunged, reeling, on--and on--and on. Was there
+no end to it? he wondered, in agony. The haunting blur beside him was
+gone now, and----
+
+"Hold up! Easy, man, easy!" cried a voice that he seemed to know, and
+then dozens of arms were clutching him, and he let himself go. And as
+his eyes closed a whitish form passed before them and dropped from
+sight. Tammen, plucky to the last, was being lifted from the track,
+where, defeated and exhausted, he had fallen. And Allan, with closed
+eyes and tortured lungs, felt himself being carried to the tent, while
+in his ears was a roar of sound that told of victory and a race well
+run.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+"VALE"
+
+
+Allan and Pete sat on the steps of McLean Hall. The yard was a
+fairyland of glowing lanterns and moving colors. Near at hand, in a
+bough-screened stand, the band was playing. Above their heads the old
+elms of Erskine rustled their leaves and whispered among themselves,
+comparing, perhaps, this class-day with the many that had gone before.
+On the gravel paths matrons and maids, in light gowns, accompanied by
+robed seniors or dress-suited undergraduates, passed and repassed. The
+scene was as fair a one as ever Allan had witnessed, while even Pete
+was forced to grudging admiration.
+
+"You'll come out in August, then," Pete was saying.
+
+"Yes," answered Allan, "and don't you be afraid I won't turn up, for
+this is the biggest excursion I ever took. So far I've never been
+farther away from home than this, and Colorado seems like the other
+side of the world."
+
+Pete smiled in the half-light.
+
+"Hope you'll like us, Allan. We may seem rather a rough and unpolished
+lot at first, but we're not so bad when you cotton to our way of life."
+
+"Of course I'll like you," said Allan, vehemently. "If it wasn't for
+you and your father, Pete, where'd we be now?"
+
+"Where you are, I guess," laughed Pete. "Let me tell you something,
+Allan. When you get out to Blackwater, don't you go to speaking pieces
+at the old man, and thanking him; that's a line of talk he can't stand."
+
+"But I've got to thank him," objected Allan.
+
+"No you haven't; your mother's done that already in her letter.
+Besides, there isn't anything to make a fuss about. I gave the tip to
+dad, and he bought up enough stock in the Gold Beetle to get control.
+Then he called a meeting, voted to go ahead with the mine, and--did it.
+And he found a whole bunch of ore, just as I knew he would. He don't
+need any thanks. Why, ginger, the old mine will make him richer than it
+will you folks!"
+
+"Well, then, I'll thank you again," said Allan.
+
+"If you do, I'll punch you! Look, there's Rindgely with his folks.
+Nice-looking woman, that mother of his. Say, maybe I ain't glad I
+didn't have to show that confession of him!"
+
+"So'm I," said Allan, heartily. "It would have been a shame to prevent
+him from graduating. After all, I don't suppose he realized what he was
+doing."
+
+"Well, I don't know about that," answered Pete. "Anyhow, I'm glad we
+caught on to him in time. And it was all Two Spot's doing, too; did you
+ever think of that? If she hadn't rolled that ball of paper to my feet
+I'd never have seen that chap's name and asked about him. It was that
+that put me onto the game. I remembered Tommy's telling about Rindgely
+and the St. Thomas Club. By the way, it's time those fellows showed up."
+
+"Tommy and Hal? They're always late. Have you heard Tommy's voice? He
+cheered so hard at the ball game this afternoon that he can't talk
+above a whisper. Hal's trying to induce him to sing with the glee club."
+
+"There's Hooker and Long. What sort of a captain do you suppose Long
+will make?"
+
+"First rate, I should think. The fellows like him and he's a
+hard-working, earnest sort of a fellow."
+
+"Well, just as long as they didn't light on Monroe," said Pete. "That
+man will be the death of me, he puts on so many airs. Next fall, when
+I get back, I'm going to start right in and learn how to throw the
+hammer, and keep at it until I can beat him at that, too."
+
+"You'll be busy at football," suggested Allan.
+
+"Football? Oh--well, maybe; football isn't a bad game, after all. But--
+Here they are. O Tommy! Tommy Sweet!"
+
+Tommy and Hal, attracted by Pete's bellow, turned and joined them.
+
+"Thought we'd never get here," said Tommy, hoarsely. "Hal got mixed up
+with an ice-cream freezer and ate six saucerfuls before I could drag
+him away."
+
+"That's so," Hal confessed. "That's the trouble with breaking training;
+things taste so good and it's so jolly nice to be able to eat all you
+want to. I expect to be fine and sick to-night."
+
+"You have every right to," said Allan. "When a little old freshman gets
+taken onto the varsity and makes a home run in the ninth inning, just
+when it's needed, and lets in three men----"
+
+"Oh, shut up! And come on up to the room and eat. We can hear the music
+finely from the windows. I've got some nice cold ginger ale up there,
+and Mr. and Mrs. Guild ought to be along about now. Come on."
+
+"Well, I never took much of a shine to ginger ale," said Pete, drawing
+his big form erect; "the fizzy stuff always goes up my nose. But I'll
+have some, for it sure is hot to-night."
+
+"We'll drink Tommy's health," said Hal, as they moved across the turf
+under the swaying lanterns, "and we'll get him to sing us 'A Health to
+King Charles' in his nice new voice."
+
+"Toast yourselves," growled Tommy, hoarsely.
+
+"We will!" cried Allan. "We'll toast ourselves, and we'll drink to
+next year, when we'll all be jolly sophomores--except you, Tommy dear,
+who'll be a disgustingly serious and dignified junior."
+
+Laughing, they crossed the yard, under the glow of the lanterns, and
+passed out of sight into the shadows of Elm Street. Against the front
+of College Hall appeared in sputtering purple flames the word
+
+
+"VALE."
+
+
+
+
+BY RALPH HENRY BARBOUR.
+
+
+The Spirit of the School.
+
+The story of a boy who works his way through school. Illustrated in
+Colors. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+
+Four Afloat.
+
+Four Afoot.
+
+Four in Camp.
+
+A series of books relating the adventures of four boy companions.
+Illustrated in Colors, $1.50 each.
+
+
+On Your Mark!
+
+A Story of College Life and Athletics. Illustrated in Colors by C. M.
+RELYEA. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+No other author has caught so truly the spirit of school and college
+life.
+
+
+The Arrival of Jimpson.
+
+Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+Stories of college pranks, baseball, football, hockey, and college life.
+
+
+The Book of School and College Sports.
+
+Fully illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.75 net; postage additional.
+
+
+Weatherby's Inning.
+
+A Story of College Life and Baseball. Illustrated in Colors by C. M.
+RELYEA. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+In this recent book Mr. Barbour tells a story of college life and sport.
+
+
+Behind the Line.
+
+A Story of School and Football. Illustrated by C. M. RELYEA. 12mo.
+Cloth, $1.50.
+
+
+Captain of the Crew.
+
+Illustrated by C. M. RELYEA. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+A fresh, graphic, delightful story that appeals to all healthy boys and
+girls.
+
+
+For the Honor of the School.
+
+A Story of School Life and Interscholastic Sport. Illustrated by C. M.
+RELYEA. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+
+The Half-Back.
+
+Illustrated by B. WEST CLINEDINST. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+"It is in every sense an out-and-out boys' book."--_Boston Herald._
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+By C. C. HOTCHKISS.
+
+The Land Hero of 1812.
+
+Illustrated by B. WEST CLINEDINST. 12mo. Cloth, $1.25.
+
+Mr. Hotchkiss, who is well known through his stories for grown-ups, has
+chosen as the subject of his first book for boys the life of Andrew
+Jackson. While the facts of history are presented, the author adroitly
+constructed his story upon the most picturesque incidents of Jackson's
+varied career. The book is therefore instructive as well as interesting.
+
+
+By KIRK MUNROE.
+
+The Outcast Warrior.
+
+Illustrated. 12mo. Ornamental Cloth, $1.50.
+
+This is a boys' story of a white man turned Indian and his adventures
+in the Western wilderness. He distinguishes himself as a warrior and is
+known as Wicasta, the Man Chief of the Aricarees. He marries Koda, a
+Sioux captive, and becomes the father of Hanana (Morning Light).
+
+
+By OTTILIE A. LILJENCRANTZ.
+
+The Vinland Champions.
+
+Illustrated by the KINNEYS. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+A rousing good boys' book with plenty of dash and go and a glimpse of
+the wild, free life of the Vikings in it. Every school-boy has heard of
+the vague rumor that the Norsemen discovered America before Christopher
+Columbus. The story tells of the party of one hundred Icelanders who
+went and dwelt there and called it the "Peace Land."
+
+
+By JULIE M. LIPPMANN.
+
+Every-Day Girls.
+
+Illustrated in colors. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+The best book for girls that has appeared in years; it has all the
+charm and sweetness that is contained in "Little Women." It is not
+merely a chronicle of events, however, but teaches a valuable lesson.
+The girls are sweet and lovely and quarrelsome and impulsive, just as
+every-day girls are. They have a hard and exciting time, and they fight
+a battle and win it. It is a charming, wholesome book.
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+BY WILLIAM O. STODDARD.
+
+Each Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+The Boy Lincoln.
+
+This is an absorbing fanciful account of the early days of Abraham
+Lincoln when he was a boy living on the frontier.
+
+
+The Fight for the Valley.
+
+Colored Frontispiece and other Illustrations.
+
+A narrative of the brave defense of Fort Schuyler and the battle of
+Oriskany.
+
+
+The Spy of Yorktown.
+
+Colored Frontispiece.
+
+A story of the Yorktown campaign and Benedict Arnold.
+
+
+With the Black Prince.
+
+A Story of Adventure in the Fourteenth Century.
+
+The absorbing interest of this stirring historical romance will appeal
+to all young readers.
+
+
+Success Against Odds; or, How an American Boy Made his Way.
+
+In this spirited and interesting story Mr. Stoddard tells the
+adventures of a plucky boy who fought his own battles and made his way
+upward from poverty in a Long Island seashore town. It is a tale of
+pluck and self-reliance capitally told.
+
+
+The Red Patriot.
+
+A Story of the American Revolution.
+
+
+The Windfall; or, After the Flood.
+
+Illustrated by B. West Clinedinst.
+
+
+Chris, the Model-Maker.
+
+A Story of New York. With 6 full-page Illustrations by B. West
+Clinedinst.
+
+
+On the Old Frontier.
+
+With 10 full-page Illustrations.
+
+
+The Battle of New York.
+
+With 11 full-page Illustrations and colored Frontispiece.
+
+
+Little Smoke.
+
+A Story of the Sioux Indians. With 12 full-page Illustrations by F. S
+Dellenbaugh, portraits of Sitting Bull, Red Cloud, and other chiefs,
+and 72 head and tail pieces representing the various implements and
+surroundings of Indian life.
+
+
+Crowded Out o' Crofield.
+
+With 23 Illustrations by C. T. Hill.
+
+The story of a country boy who fought his way to success in the
+metropolis.
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+BOOKS BY J. A. ALTSHELER.
+
+
+The Young Trailers.
+
+Illustrated. 12mo. Ornamental cloth, $1.50.
+
+A boys' story, telling of the first settlers in Kentucky. Their
+pleasures and hardships, their means of protection, methods of
+obtaining food and ammunition are described in a way that makes the
+reader live with them. The life led by the young hero--his fights with
+Indians and his captivity among them--is vividly pictured.
+
+
+The Wilderness Road.
+
+A Romance of St. Clair's Defeat and Wayne's Victory. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+"That Mr. Altsheler has caught the wild, free spirit of the life which
+he depicts is evident on every page, and nowhere more so than in one of
+his final chapters, 'The Meeting of the Chiefs,' where he vitalizes the
+life-and-death struggle of a friendly and a hostile Indian."--_New York
+Mail and Express._
+
+
+In Circling Camps.
+
+A Romance of the American Civil War. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+"We do not often get as fine a picture as that which Mr. Altsheler
+paints. The tale covers the period from the election and inauguration
+of Lincoln until the surrender of Lee and the entrance of the Northern
+army into Richmond.... Every good American who enjoys the smell of
+powder and the crack of the rifle will appreciate the chapters that
+describe the battle of Gettysburg."--_The Bookman._
+
+
+A Herald of the West.
+
+An American Story of 1811-1815. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+"A rattling good story, and unrivalled in fiction for its
+presentation of the American feeling toward England during our second
+conflict."--_Boston Herald._
+
+
+A Soldier of Manhattan.
+
+And his Adventures at Ticonderoga and Quebec. 12mo. Ornamental cloth,
+$1.50.
+
+"The story is told in such a simple, direct way that it holds the
+reader's interest to the end, and gives a most accurate picture of the
+times."--_Boston Transcript._
+
+
+The Sun of Saratoga.
+
+A Romance of Burgoyne's Surrender. 12mo. Ornamental cloth, $1.50.
+
+"Taken altogether, 'The Sun of Saratoga' is the best historical novel
+of American origin that has been written for years, if not, indeed, in
+a fresh, simple, unpretending, unlabored, manly way, that we have ever
+read."--_New York Mail and Express._
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+COLUMBUS AND WASHINGTON.
+
+
+The Story of Columbus.
+
+By ELIZABETH EGGLESTON SEELYE. Edited by Dr. Edward Eggleston. With 100
+Illustrations by Allegra Eggleston. Delights of History Series. 12mo.
+Cloth, $1.75.
+
+"This is no ordinary work. It is preeminently a work of the present
+time and of the future as well."--_Boston Traveler._
+
+"Mrs. Seelye's book is pleasing in its general effect, and reveals the
+results of painstaking and conscientious study."--_New York Tribune._
+
+"A very just account is given of Columbus, his failings being
+neither concealed nor magnified, but his real greatness being made
+plain."--_New York Examiner._
+
+"The illustrations are particularly well chosen and neatly executed,
+and they add to the general excellence of the volume."--_New York
+Times._
+
+"A brief, popular, interesting, and yet critical volume, just such as
+we should wish to place in the hands of a young reader. The authors of
+this volume have done their best to keep it on a high plane of accuracy
+and conscientious work without losing sight of their readers."--_New
+York Independent._
+
+
+The Story of Washington.
+
+By ELIZABETH EGGLESTON SEELYE. Edited by Dr. Edward Eggleston. With
+over 100 Illustrations by Allegra Eggleston. Delights of History
+Series. 12mo. Cloth, $1.75.
+
+"One of the best accounts of the incidents of Washington's life for
+young people."--_New York Observer._
+
+"The Washington described is not that of the demigod or hero of the
+first half of this century, but the man Washington, with his defects as
+well as his virtues, his unattractive traits as well as his pleasing
+ones.... There is greater freedom from errors than in more pretentious
+lives."--_Chicago Tribune._
+
+"The illustrations are numerous, and actually illustrate, including
+portraits and views, with an occasional map and minor pictures
+suggestive of the habits and customs of the period. It is altogether an
+attractive and useful book, and one that should find many readers among
+American boys and girls."--_Philadelphia Times._
+
+"Will be read with interest by young and old. It is told with good
+taste and accuracy, and if the first President loses some of his
+mythical goodness in this story, the real greatness of his natural
+character stands out distinctly, and his example will be all the
+more helpful to the boys and girls of this generation."--_New York
+Churchman._
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+BY HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH.
+
+
+The Young McKinley.
+
+Illustrated. 12mo. Ornamental Cloth, $1.50.
+
+Mr. Butterworth portrays the future President at school, where, after
+a bitter disappointment, the crusty old school-teacher, who has a good
+heart beneath his severe exterior, says to him: "Never mind, you may be
+President yet." He traces President McKinley's career through his army
+days to the time when he was preparing for that great political career
+which made the blow that struck him down at the height of his glory a
+blow to the whole United States.
+
+
+Brother Jonathan; or, The Alarm Post in the Cedars.
+
+A Tale of Early Connecticut. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+
+In the Days of Audubon.
+
+A Tale of the "Protector of Birds." Illustrated by B. West Clinedinst
+and others. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+
+In the Days of Jefferson; or, The Six Golden Horseshoes.
+
+A Tale of Republican Simplicity. Illustrated by F. T. Merrill. $1.50.
+
+
+The Story of Magellan.
+
+A Tale of the Discovery of the Philippines. Illustrated by F. T.
+Merrill and others. $1.50.
+
+
+The Treasure Ship.
+
+A Story of Sir William Phipps and the Inter-Charter Period in
+Massachusetts. Illustrated by B. West Clinedinst and others. $1.50.
+
+
+The Pilot of the Mayflower.
+
+Illustrated by H. Winthrop Peirce and others. $1.50.
+
+
+True to His Home.
+
+A Tale of the Boyhood of Franklin. Illustrated by H. Winthrop Peirce.
+$1.50.
+
+
+The Wampum Belt; or, The Fairest Page of History.
+
+A Tale of William Penn's Treaty with the Indians. With 6 full-page
+Illustrations. $1.50.
+
+
+The Knight of Liberty.
+
+A Tale of the Fortunes of Lafayette. With 6 full-page Illustrations.
+$1.50.
+
+
+The Patriot Schoolmaster.
+
+A Tale of the Minutemen and the Sons of Liberty. With 6 full-page
+Illustrations by H. Winthrop Peirce. $1.50.
+
+
+In the Boyhood of Lincoln.
+
+A Story of the Black Hawk War and the Tunker Schoolmaster. With 12
+Illustrations and colored Frontispiece. $1.50.
+
+
+The Boys of Greenway Court.
+
+A Story of the Early Years of Washington. With 10 full-page
+Illustrations. $1.50.
+
+
+The Log School-House on the Columbia.
+
+With 13 full-page Illustrations by J. Carter Beard, E. J. Austen, and
+others. $1.50.
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+YOUNG HEROES OF OUR NAVY.
+
+
+_NEW VOLUME._
+
+With the Flag in the Channel.
+
+The Adventures of Captain Gustavus Conyngham. By JAMES BARNES.
+Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.00.
+
+
+OTHER VOLUMES IN THE SERIES.
+
+Illustrated. 12mo. Each, $1.00.
+
+
+Reuben James.
+
+A Hero of the Forecastle. By CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY, Author of "Paul
+Jones." Illustrated by George Gibbs and others.
+
+
+The Hero of Manila.
+
+Dewey on the Mississippi and the Pacific. By ROSSITER JOHNSON.
+Illustrated by B. West Clinedinst and others.
+
+
+The Hero of Erie (_Commodore Perry_).
+
+By JAMES BARNES, Author of "Midshipman Farragut," "Commodore
+Bainbridge," etc. With 10 full-page Illustrations.
+
+
+Commodore Bainbridge.
+
+From the Gunroom to the Quarter-deck. By JAMES BARNES. Illustrated by
+George Gibbs and others.
+
+
+Midshipman Farragut.
+
+By JAMES BARNES. Illustrated by Carlton F. Chapman.
+
+
+Decatur and Somers.
+
+By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL. With 6 full-page Illustrations by J. O.
+Davidson and others.
+
+
+Paul Jones.
+
+By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL. With 8 full-page Illustrations.
+
+
+Midshipman Paulding.
+
+A True Story of the War of 1812. By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL. With 6
+full-page Illustrations.
+
+
+Little Jarvis.
+
+The Story of the Heroic Midshipman of the Frigate Constellation. By
+MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL. With 6 full-page Illustrations.
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+A UNIQUE BOOK.
+
+"_For children, parents, teachers, and all who are interested in the
+psychology of childhood._"
+
+
+The Book of Knight and Barbara.
+
+By DAVID STARR JORDAN. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+The curious and fascinating tales and pictures of this unique book are
+introduced by Dr. Jordan with the following preface: "The only apology
+the author can make in this case is that he never meant to do it. He
+had told his own children many stories of many kinds, some original,
+some imitative, some travesties of the work of real story-tellers.
+Two students of the department of education in the Stanford
+University--Mrs. Louise Maitland, of San Jose, and Miss Harriet Hawley,
+of Boston--asked him to repeat these stories before other children.
+Miss Hawley, as a stenographer, took them down for future reference,
+and while the author was absent on the Bering Sea Commission of 1896
+she wrote them out in full, thus forming the material of this book.
+Copies of the stories were placed by Mrs. Maitland in the hands of
+hundreds of children. These drew illustrative pictures, after their
+fashion; and from the multitude offered, Mrs. Maitland chose those
+which are here reproduced. The scenes in the stories were also
+subjected to the criticisms of the children, and in many cases amended
+to meet their suggestions. These pictures made by the children have
+been found to interest deeply other children, a fact which gives them
+a definite value as original documents in the study of the workings of
+the child-mind. At the end of the volume are added a few true stories
+of birds and of beasts, told to a different audience. With these are a
+few drawings by university students, which are intended to assist the
+imagination of child-readers."
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATED JUVENILE STORIES.
+
+
+Fifty-two Stories for Girls.
+
+Edited by ALFRED H. MILES. Illustrated. 12mo. Ornamental Cloth, $1.50.
+
+A story for every week in the year. The very best present a girl
+could have. A constant reminder of the giver. Fifty-two stories by
+the best English writers, inculcating the love of honor, truth, and
+loyalty. These are such stories as it will do little girls good to
+read. They teach the love of home and many lovable qualities. Among the
+contributors are Margaret Watson, Jennie Chapman, Lucy Hardy, Alfred H.
+Miles, Lucie E. Jackson, and Thomas Archer.
+
+
+Fifty-two Stories for Boys.
+
+Edited by ALFRED H. MILES. Illustrated. 12mo. Ornamental Cloth, $1.50.
+
+A story for every week in the year. The very best present a boy could
+have. A constant reminder of the giver. Fifty-two stories by the best
+English writers, inculcating the love of honor, manhood, truth, and
+patriotism. These are stories which stir the imagination and stimulate
+the reader to try to become a great man himself. Among the contributors
+are Alfred H. Miles, Robert Overton, Lieut.-Col. A. J. Macpherson, G.
+A. Henty, F. M. Holmes, and Grace Stebbing.
+
+
+Fifty-two More Stories for Boys.
+
+Fifty-two More Stories for Girls.
+
+Edited by ALFRED H. MILES. Illustrated. 12mo. Each $1.50.
+
+These two volumes are companions to the two "Fifty-two Stories" books
+published last fall. Each book will contain a story for every week in
+the year, particularly suited to the tastes of young boys and girls.
+The stories are by the best writers and cover a wide range of subjects.
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+APPLETONS' SUPPLEMENTARY READERS.
+
+
+Uncle Robert's Geography.
+
+By the late FRANCIS W. PARKER and NELLIE L. HELM. A Series of
+Geographical Readers for Supplementary Use. Four volumes. Illustrated.
+12mo. Cloth.
+
+    1. Playtime and Seedtime      32 cents.
+    2. On the Farm                42   "
+    3. Uncle Robert's Visit       50   "
+    4. A River Journey            60   "
+
+Uncle Robert teaches children how to read aright the great book of
+Nature. He makes study a pleasure. He teaches geography in the right
+way. He makes rural life and occupations attractive. He has a deep and
+loving sympathy with child-life. He believes in the education that
+strengthens the body as well as the mind. He tells children instructive
+stories to arouse their imaginations and stimulate their observing
+powers. He believes that every normal child may be made useful in
+the world. He has a boundless faith in human progress, and finds his
+greatest hopes in childhood and its possibilities.
+
+=These extraordinarily suggestive little books by the late Colonel
+Parker--one of the most far-sighted students of child-life of our
+day--have approved themselves to thousands of primary teachers. They
+form one of the few successful attempts to incorporate that which is
+close by nature to child perception into the very warp and woof of the
+child mind. They give an intelligible meaning and vitality to the round
+of experiences that come to all normal children in our land.=
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+ Transcriber's Notes:
+
+ --Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_); text in
+   bold by "equal" signs (=bold=).
+
+ --Except for the frontispiece, illustrations have been moved to
+   follow the text that they illustrate, so the page number of the
+   illustration may not match the page number in the List of
+   Illustrations.
+
+ --Printer, punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently
+   corrected.
+
+ --Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.
+
+ --Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.
+
+ --The Author's em-dash and long dash styles have been retained.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of On Your Mark!, by Ralph Henry Barbour
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON YOUR MARK! ***
+
+***** This file should be named 45140-8.txt or 45140-8.zip *****
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of On Your Mark!, by Ralph Henry Barbour
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: On Your Mark!
+       A Story of College Life and Athletics
+
+Author: Ralph Henry Barbour
+
+Illustrator: C. M. Relyea
+
+Release Date: March 15, 2014 [EBook #45140]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON YOUR MARK! ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Donald Cummings and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="600" height="879"
+     alt="cover" title="cover" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<p class="noic">ON YOUR MARK!</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="adbox">
+<p class="noic adtitle">BY RALPH HENRY BARBOUR.</p>
+
+<p class="noic">Each 12mo, Cloth.</p>
+
+<hr class="r30" />
+
+<p class="noi hang"><span class="adauthor">The Spirit of the School.</span><br />
+Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.</p>
+
+<p class="noi hang"><span class="adauthor">Four Afloat.</span><br />
+Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.</p>
+
+<p class="noi hang"><span class="adauthor">Four Afoot.</span><br />
+Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.</p>
+
+<p class="noi hang"><span class="adauthor">Four in Camp.</span><br />
+Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.</p>
+
+<p class="noi hang"><span class="adauthor">On Your Mark.</span><br />
+Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.</p>
+
+<p class="noi hang"><span class="adauthor">The Arrival of Jimpson.</span><br />
+Illustrated. $1.50.</p>
+
+<p class="noi hang"><span class="adauthor">Weatherby’s Inning.</span><br />
+Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.</p>
+
+<p class="noi hang"><span class="adauthor">Behind the Line.</span><br />
+Illustrated. $1.50.</p>
+
+<p class="noi hang"><span class="adauthor">Captain of the Crew.</span><br />
+Illustrated. $1.50.</p>
+
+<p class="noi hang"><span class="adauthor">For the Honor of the School.</span><br />
+Illustrated. $1.50.</p>
+
+<p class="noi hang"><span class="adauthor">The Half-Back.</span><br />
+Illustrated. $1.50.</p>
+
+<hr class="r30" />
+
+<p class="noic">D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 382px;">
+<a name="image01" id="image01">
+  <img src="images/image01.jpg" width="382" height="600"
+       alt="“Fooling?” Burley echoed. “Why, no, I ain’t fooling.”"
+       title="“Fooling?” Burley echoed. “Why, no, I ain’t fooling.”" />
+</a><br />
+<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_53">“Fooling?” Burley echoed. “Why, no, I ain’t fooling.”</a></div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<h1>ON YOUR MARK!</h1>
+
+<p class="noi subtitle">A Story of College<br />
+Life and Athletics</p>
+
+<p class="p2 noic">BY</p>
+
+<p class="noi author">RALPH HENRY BARBOUR</p>
+
+<p class="noi works">AUTHOR OF BEHIND THE LINE, WEATHERBY’S INNING, ETC.</p>
+
+<p class="p2 noic"><i>ILLUSTRATED BY C. M. RELYEA</i></p>
+
+<div class="pad4">
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 78px">
+<img src="images/logo.jpg" width="78" height="95"
+     alt="logo" title="logo" />
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="noic">New York<br />
+D. Appleton and Company<br />
+1908</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<p class="noic"><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1904, by</span><br />
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY</p>
+
+
+<p class="p4 noi"><i>Published September, 1904</i></p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<p class="noic">TO</p>
+
+<p class="noic"><span class="noi author">BERT AND LILA</span></p>
+
+<p class="noic">IN MEMORY OF</p>
+
+<p class="noic"><span class="noi author">“THE BIG HOUSE”</span></p>
+
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents">
+<col style="width: 20%;" />
+<col style="width: 70%;" />
+<col style="width: 10%;" />
+<tr>
+  <th class="pr smfontr">CHAPTER</th>
+  <th class="tdl"></th>
+  <th class="smfontr">PAGE</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">I.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">The winner of the mile</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">1</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">II.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">A visiting card</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">12</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">III.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">On the cinders</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">22</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">IV.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">Hal has an idea</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">33</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">V.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">“Mr. Peter Burley, Blackwater, Col.”</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">45</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">VI.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">“Right guard back!”</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">57</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">VII.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">“The Ranch”</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">65</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">VIII.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">Pete’s club table</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">73</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">IX.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">The duck hunt</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">86</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">X.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">Dinner for two</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">96</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">XI.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">The capsized boat</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">106</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">XII.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">Tommy corrects a report</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">120</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">XIII.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">Pete writes home</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">130</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">XIV.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">Hockey&mdash;with variations</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">139</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">XV.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">In the “Corral”</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">147</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">XVI.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">The indoor meeting</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">157</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">XVII.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">Allan leaves the club table</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">172</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">XVIII.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">An alarm of fire</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">181</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">XIX.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">Pete puts the shot</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">193</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">XX.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">Track and Field</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">203</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">XXI.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">Sunshine and shadow</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">210</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">XXII.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">A newspaper paragraph</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">218</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">XXIII.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">The freshman game</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">227</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">XXIV.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">“On your mark!”</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">239</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">XXV.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">The last event</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">254</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pt tdrt">XXVI.&mdash;</td>
+  <td class="pt tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">“Vale”</a></td>
+  <td class="pt tdrb">263</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations">
+<tr>
+  <th>&nbsp;</th>
+  <th>&nbsp;</th>
+  <th class="smfontr">FACING<br />PAGE</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdl"><a href="#image01">“Fooling?” Burley echoed. “Why, no, I ain’t fooling.”</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb smfontr"><i>Frontispiece</i></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdl"><a href="#image02">A white-clad form sped across the finish.</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">&nbsp;</td>
+  <td class="tdrb">11</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdl"><a href="#image03">“Sorry you don’t approve of them.”</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">&nbsp;</td>
+  <td class="tdrb">94</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdl"><a href="#image04">Pete tipped him over the barrier.</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">&nbsp;</td>
+  <td class="tdrb">143</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+
+<p class="noi title">ON YOUR MARK</p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a><br />
+<small>THE WINNER OF THE MILE</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>“All out for the mile!”</p>
+
+<p>Myer, clerk of the course, stuck his head inside the
+dressing-tent and bawled the command in a voice already
+made hoarse by his afternoon’s duties. In response a
+dozen or so fellows gathered their blankets or dressing-gowns
+about them and tumbled out into the dusk of a
+mid-October evening. Because of the fact that on
+Wednesday and Saturday afternoons the athletic field
+was required for the football contests it was necessary to
+hold the Fall Handicap Meeting on one of the other days
+of the week. This year it was on Friday, October 17th,
+and because the Erskine College faculty does not permit
+athletic contests of any sort to begin before four o’clock
+on any day save Saturday, the mile run, the last event
+on the program, was not reached until almost six o’clock;
+and in the middle of October in the latitude of Centerport
+it is almost dark at that time.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It was cold, too. A steady north wind blew down
+the home-stretch and made the waiting contestants dance
+nimbly about on their spiked shoes and rub their bare
+legs. That wind had helped the sprinters, hurdlers, and
+jumpers very considerably, since it had blown against
+their backs on the straightaway and the runway, enabling
+them to equal the Erskine record in two cases and
+break it in a third. It was Stearns, ’04, the track-team
+captain and crack sprinter who, starting from scratch,
+had performed the latter feat. Until to-day the Erskine
+record for the 220-yards dash had been twenty-two seconds
+flat; this afternoon, with the wind behind him all
+the way, Stearns had clipped a fifth of a second from the
+former time, to the delight of the shivering audience,
+who had cheered the announcement of the result loudly,
+glad to be able to warm themselves with enthusiasm on
+any pretext.</p>
+
+<p>But if the north wind had been kind to the sprinters,
+the middle- and long-distance men had derived no benefit
+from it; for while it aided them on the home-stretch, it
+held them back on the opposite side of the field. The
+spectators had already begun to stream away toward
+college when Myer at length succeeded in getting the
+last of the milers placed upon their marks. The two-mile
+event had been tame, with Conroy, ’04, jogging
+over the line a good twenty yards ahead of the second<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span>
+man, and there was no reason to expect anything more
+exciting in the mile. Rindgely and Hooker were both
+on scratch and surely capable of beating out any of the
+ambitious freshmen, who, with a leavening of other
+class men, were sprinkled around the turn as far as the
+200 yards. To be sure, Rindgely and Hooker might
+fight it out, but it was more probable that they had already
+tossed a coin between themselves to see who was
+to have first prize and who second. So the audience, by
+this time pretty well chilled, went off in search of more
+comfortable places than Erskine Field; or at least most
+of them did; a handful joined the groups of officials
+along the track, and jumped and stamped about in an
+attempt to get the blood back into toes and fingers.</p>
+
+<p>Clarke Mason was one of those electing to stay. Possibly
+the fact that he had had the forethought to stop in
+his room on his way to the field and don a comfortable
+white sweater may have had something to do with his
+decision. At least it is safe to say that the mere fact of
+his being managing editor of the Erskine Purple was
+not accountable, for the Purple had a small but assiduous
+corps of reporters in its employment, one of whom, looking
+very blue about the nose, Clarke spoke to on his way
+across to where Stearns, having got back into his street
+clothes, was talking to Kernahan, the trainer.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, who’s going to win this, Billy?” asked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>
+Clarke. (The track trainer was “Billy” to only a select
+few, and many a student, seeking to ingratiate himself
+with the little Irishman, had had his head almost snapped
+off for too familiar use of that first name.) Kernahan
+looked over the contestants and nodded to the men on
+scratch.</p>
+
+<p>“One of them,” he answered.</p>
+
+<p>“Then you have no infant prodigies for this event
+in the freshman candidates?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know of any. Two or three of them may
+turn out fast, but I guess they can’t hurry Hooker or
+Rindgely much.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who’s the chap you’ve got by himself over there
+on the turn?” asked Stearns.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s&mdash;I don’t mind his name; he’s a freshman
+from Hillton; he wanted more handicap, but I couldn’t
+give it to him, not with those legs of his. He’s built for
+a runner, anyhow.”</p>
+
+<p>“He surely is,” answered Stearns, “as far as legs are
+concerned. But legs aren’t everything. Hello! you
+haven’t given that little black-haired sophomore much of
+a show; thirty yards won’t help him much in the mile.”</p>
+
+<p>“Track, there!” cried a voice.</p>
+
+<p>The three moved back on to the turf, Kernahan,
+who was timer, pulling out his watch. The dozen or so
+milers who had been summoned from the tent had had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>
+their ranks increased by several others. Hooker and
+Rindgely had the scratch to themselves, but the thirty
+yards held three men scarcely less speedy, and from that
+point onward around the turn as far as the middle of the
+back-stretch the others were scattered in little groups of
+twos and threes. Only the freshman with the long legs
+was alone. He had been given a handicap of 120 yards,
+and was jogging back and forth across the track with the
+bottom of his drab dressing-gown flapping around his
+slender ankles. Ahead of him in the gathering twilight
+six other runners, in two groups, were fidgeting about in
+the cold. Across the field floated the command to get
+ready. He tossed his wrap aside, revealing a lithe figure
+of little above medium height with long legs in which
+the muscles played prettily as he leaned forward with
+outstretched arm. At the report of the pistol he sprang
+away with long easy strides that seemed to eat up the
+distance. At the beginning of the home-stretch he had
+caught up the nearest bunch of runners, and at the mark
+he was speeding close behind the foremost men and taking
+the pace from the leader. It had cost him something
+to gain the position, and to the watchers about
+the finish it seemed that he was already spent.</p>
+
+<p>“Your long-legged freshman’s done for, I guess,”
+said Clarke.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, he’s too ambitious. Has a pretty stride,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>
+though, hasn’t he, Billy?” Walter Stearns followed the
+freshman runner with his gaze while he began the turn.
+Kernahan too was watching him, and with something
+like interest. But all he said was:</p>
+
+<p>“Stride’s pretty good; feet drag a good deal,
+though.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who’s that closing up?” asked Stearns. “Oh, it’s
+the sophomore chap with the black hair. He’s an idiot,
+that’s what he is. Look! he’s trying to pass Long-legs.
+There he goes! Long-legs has sense, anyhow. Sophomore’s
+taken the lead, and look at the pace he’s making!
+Long-legs is dropping back; none but a fool would try to
+keep up to that.”</p>
+
+<p>They were at the turn now, and the gathering darkness
+made it difficult to determine who was who. So the
+watchers gave their attention to the scratch-men and one
+or two stragglers who were bunched together half-way
+down the back-stretch. Rindgely and Hooker were close
+together, the latter putting his toes down squarely into
+the former’s prints. Both were running easily and with
+the consciousness of plenty of power in reserve. When
+the turn was begun they had gained slightly on the
+others near them and were about 120 yards behind the
+first bunch. The black-haired sophomore was still setting
+the pace when he crossed the mark again. Behind
+him at short intervals sped four others, and last in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>
+group came the freshman with the long legs. The half-hundred
+spectators that remained were clustered close
+to the track near the finish and, in spite of chattering
+teeth, were displaying some enthusiasm. A junior
+named Harris who was running third was encouraged
+lustily, but most of the applause was reserved for the
+two cracks, Rindgely and Hooker; they were well
+known and well liked; besides, they were pretty certain
+to win, and it is always satisfactory to back
+the victor.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s this, the third lap?” Clarke asked, thumping
+his bare hands together. “Well, I’m going back;
+better come along, Walt. You’ll freeze here. If we’re
+going to have this sort of weather in October, I’d like to
+know what’s going to happen to us in December.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I guess I’ll go along,” Stearns said. “It
+surely is cold, and we know how this is going to end.
+There go Rindgely and Hooker now; watch ’em overhaul
+the bunch. If you see Ames, Billy, tell him I said
+he was to look me up to-night, will you?”</p>
+
+<p>“All right,” answered the trainer. “But you’d
+better see this out; there’s something in the way of a
+finish coming pretty quick.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, what’s up?” asked the track-team captain,
+turning quickly to observe the runners.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I don’t know for sure,” answered Kernahan,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>
+cautiously, “but the scratch-men aren’t going to get
+their mugs without a fight for them, I’m thinking.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who’s in the running?” Stearns asked, eagerly.
+Once more the first men were coming down the home-stretch.
+But now the order was changed. The black-haired
+sophomore was not in sight, but in his place sped
+Hooker, an easy, confident smile on his face. On his
+heels was Rindgely. Then came the junior, Harris, and
+beside him, fighting for the pole, was a little plump
+senior. Behind this pair and about five yards distant
+was the long-legged freshman. His head was held well,
+but his breathing was loud and tortured. Stearns looked
+each man over searchingly. Then he turned to the
+trainer.</p>
+
+<p>“Last lap! Last lap!” was the cry.</p>
+
+<p>“Say, Billy, you don’t mean Harris?” shouted
+Stearns when he could make himself heard.</p>
+
+<p>Kernahan shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>“Then who?”</p>
+
+<p>“Keep your eyes on Ware,” said the trainer.</p>
+
+<p>“Ware? Who the dickens is Ware?” asked Stearns.
+But the trainer was scattering the spectators from beside
+the finish, and so paid no heed. The stragglers were passing
+now and the crowd was speeding them along with announcements
+that the last lap had begun and with mildly
+ironical injunctions to “move up head” or “cut across<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>
+the field.” Then all eyes were turned to the back-stretch,
+where the five leaders, survivors of a field of some fifteen,
+were racing along, dim whitish forms in the evening twilight.
+Hooker was setting a hot pace now, and the gaps
+were lengthening. But as the last turn was reached the
+figures changed their positions; some one dropped back;
+some one else moved suddenly to the front. But it was
+all a blur and the identity of the runners could be only
+surmised.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s Rindgely taking the lead, I guess,” said
+Stearns. “That means that Hooker’s to sprint the last
+fifty yards or so and get first. But I’d like to know who
+Ware is. Do you know?”</p>
+
+<p>Clarke shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>“Search me,” he answered. “Maybe it’s the long-legged
+chap. He’s still in the bunch, I think.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, but he was just about done up when the last
+lap was finished. Did you notice? He was gasping.
+Where’s Billy?”</p>
+
+<p>“Over there at the mark. He’s holding a watch; if
+you speak to him now he’ll jump down your throat.
+Here they come. Let’s move over here where we can
+see.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, whoever’s in the lead is making a mighty
+painful pace for the finish of the mile,” exclaimed the
+captain. “Seems to me he’s ’way ahead, too!”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“It isn’t Rindgely,” said Clarke, decisively. “It
+must be&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Come on, Freshman!” cried a mighty voice at
+Clarke’s elbow, and a big broad-shouldered youth
+crashed by, sending the editor of the Purple reeling on
+to the cinders, from where he was pulled back by Stearns.
+Clarke glared around in search of the cause of his ignominious
+performance, and saw him standing, a whole
+head above the crowd, a few paces away at the edge of
+the track. He seemed to be quite unconscious of
+Clarke’s anger. Leaning out over the cinders, he was
+waving a big hand and bellowing in a voice that drowned
+all other cries:</p>
+
+<p>“Come on, Freshman! Dig your spurs in!
+<em>Whoo-ee!</em>”</p>
+
+<p>Clarke’s anger gave way to excitement. Down the
+home-stretch came the runners, sprinting for the mark.
+Stearns was shouting unintelligible things at his side
+and apparently trying to climb his back in order to see
+the finish. The throng was yelling for Hooker, for
+Rindgely, for Harris.</p>
+
+<p>And then, suddenly, comparative silence fell.
+Twenty yards away the runners became recognizable.
+The crowd stared in wonderment. Well in the lead and
+increasing that lead with every long, perfect stride came
+an unknown, a youth with pale cheeks disked with crimson,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>
+a youth of medium height with lithe body and long
+legs that were working like parts of machinery. Back
+of him ran Hooker; beyond, dim figures told of a struggle
+between Rindgely and the junior for third place. It
+was the stentorian voice of the big fellow at the edge of
+the track that broke the momentary silence of surprise.</p>
+
+<p>“Pull up, Freshman, it’s all yours!” it shouted.</p>
+
+<p>Then confusion reigned. The little throng raced
+along the track toward the finish. Hooker’s friends
+urged him to win, while others applauded the unknown.
+And in a second it was all over, mile race and fall
+meeting. <a href="#image02">A white-clad form sped across the finish six</a>
+yards in the lead, tossed his arms in air, swerved to the
+left, and pitched blindly into the throng.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 382px;">
+<a name="image02" id="image02">
+  <img src="images/image02.jpg" width="382" height="600"
+       alt="A white-clad form sped across the finish."
+       title="A white-clad form sped across the finish." />
+</a><br />
+<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_11">A white-clad form sped across the finish.</a></div>
+</div>
+
+<p>“What’s the matter with Seven?” shrieked a small
+youth at Stearns’s elbow. The track-team captain
+turned.</p>
+
+<p>“Who was that fellow that won?” he demanded.</p>
+
+<p>“Ware,” was the jubilant reply. “Ware, ’07!”</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a><br />
+<small>A VISITING CARD</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>When Allan Ware recovered enough to take an interest
+in things he found himself lying in the dressing-tent
+with some one&mdash;it afterward proved to be Harris&mdash;striving
+to draw a coat from under him. No one was
+paying any special attention to him, and the tent was
+filled with the hard breathing of the runners, who were
+now only intent upon getting into their clothes. Allan
+took a deep breath and obligingly rolled over so that
+Harris could have his coat. Then he sat up.</p>
+
+<p>He had not fainted at the end of the race; it is
+very seldom that a runner loses consciousness, no matter
+how hard or prolonged the struggle has been. The
+collapse is produced by oppression of the chest, less
+frequently of the heart in particular, and the consequent
+difficulty of breathing is the most painful feature
+of it. Allan had been dimly aware from the moment
+he pitched into the throng until now of what had passed,
+but his interest in events had been slight; he knew that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>
+arms had reached out and saved him from falling and
+that some one&mdash;a very strong some one, evidently&mdash;had
+picked him up like a feather and carried him the short
+distance to the tent. Allan wondered, now that he
+could breathe again without exertion, who the fellow
+had been.</p>
+
+<p>Every one was intent upon dressing and no one
+looked as though expecting thanks. Rindgely, still
+blowing like a porpoise, was balancing himself on one
+leg and trying to thrust the other into his trousers,
+while he explained to Hooker that the track was like
+mush and no one should be expected to run on it.
+Hooker, looking amused, grunted as he pulled his shirt
+over his head. Allan scrambled to his feet and began
+to dress. He couldn’t help wondering what the others
+thought of his victory; it seemed rather important to
+him, but he had never won a race before, although he
+had taken part in a good many, and so it probably
+appeared more wonderful than it really was. The
+trainer stuck his head in at the door.</p>
+
+<p>“Hurry up, now,” he commanded. “Get up to
+the gym, and don’t be afraid of the water when you
+get there.”</p>
+
+<p>This familiar formula met with the usual groans
+and hoots, and Kernahan grinned about the tent.
+Starting to withdraw his bullet-shaped head with its<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>
+scant adornment of carroty hair, the trainer’s eyes
+fell on Allan. He picked his way over the tangle
+of legs.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, are you done up?” he asked. Allan shook
+his head.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s the boy, then!” continued Billy, heartily.
+“You’d better come out Monday and we’ll see what
+you can do. Did you ever run much?”</p>
+
+<p>“Some,” answered Allan, “at school.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, you see me Monday.”</p>
+
+<p>When the trainer had gone, Hooker called across:</p>
+
+<p>“Say, Ware, you’re done for now.”</p>
+
+<p>“How’s that?” asked Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, when Billy takes a fancy to you, he just
+merely works you to death. You weigh when you get
+over to gym and then weigh again, say, three weeks
+from now. You won’t know yourself.”</p>
+
+<p>A laugh went up. Rindgely chimed in with:</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll find your work different from winning a
+mile with a couple of hundred yards handicap.”</p>
+
+<p>Allan had only had one hundred and twenty, but
+he didn’t think it worth while correcting Rindgely, who
+was evidently rather sore over his defeat. Harris unexpectedly
+took up for him.</p>
+
+<p>“He didn’t have that much handicap, Larry; and
+if he had, it wouldn’t have made any difference to you,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>
+you old ice-wagon. What was the matter with you,
+anyhow?”</p>
+
+<p>Rindgely entered into elaborate explanations, which
+concerned the state of the track, the injustice of the
+handicapping, and many other things, and Harris
+laughed them to scorn.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, you’re just lazy,” he jibed. “Your name’s
+Lazy Larry.”</p>
+
+<p>A howl of delight went up, and Allan looked to see
+Rindgely become angry. But, after a moment of indecision,
+he added his chuckle to the general hilarity.
+Allan turned to Harris.</p>
+
+<p>“I was rather done up after the run,” he said,
+“and some fellow must have lugged me over here.
+Did you happen to see who he was?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; one of your class, a whopping big fellow
+named Burley. Know him, don’t you?”</p>
+
+<p>Allan shook his head thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, you will when you see him.”</p>
+
+<p>Harris picked up his togs and hurried off. Allan
+would have liked to walk back with him to the gym,
+but he thought the junior might think him “fresh”
+if he offered his company, and so he started back alone.
+It was almost dark now, and the lights in the college
+yard and in the village were twinkling brightly when
+he reached the corner of Poplar Street and turned down<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>
+that elm-roofed thoroughfare toward his room. Poplar
+Street ends at Main Street in a little triangular
+grass-grown space known as College Park, and Allan’s
+room was in the rambling corner house that faces the
+park and trails its length along Main Street. Allan
+thought his address sounded rather well: “1 College
+Park” had an aristocratic sound that pleased him.
+And since he had been unable to secure accommodations
+in one of the dormitories, he considered himself lucky
+to have found such comfortable quarters as Mrs.
+Purdy’s house afforded.</p>
+
+<p>His room was large, with two windows in front
+reaching to the floor and four others arranged in couples
+along the side, and affording a clear view of the college
+yard, from McLean Hall to the library. The fact that
+former denizens had left comfortable window-seats at
+each side casement was a never-failing source of satisfaction
+to the new occupant of what the landlady called
+the “parlor study.” In Allan’s case, it was study and
+bedroom too. Next year Allan meant to room in the
+Yard, and for the present he was very well satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>His occupancy of less than a month had not staled
+the pleasure derived from knowing himself sole owner
+of all the apartment’s array of brand-new furniture,
+carpeting, and draperies. To-night, after he had
+lighted all four of the burners in the gilded chandelier<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>
+above the table, he paused with the charred match in
+hand and looked about him with satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>The carpet was beautifully crimson, the draperies
+at the windows were equally resplendent, if more variegated
+in hue, the big study-table shone richly and reflected
+the light in its polished top, and the more
+familiar objects on the mantel and on the dark walls,
+accumulations of his school years, seemed to return
+his gaze with friendly interest. To-night, with the
+knowledge of his victory on the track adding new
+glamour to the scene, it seemed to Allan that his first
+year of college life was destined to be very happy and
+splendid.</p>
+
+<p>He stayed only long enough to change collar and
+cuffs, and then, with a boy’s cheerful disregard of
+economy, left the four lights flaring and hurried across
+Main Street to Brown Hall and dinner.</p>
+
+<p>The afternoon’s work had put a sharp edge on his
+appetite, and, having nodded to one or two acquaintances,
+he lost no time in addressing himself to the
+agreeable task of causing the total disappearance of a
+plate of soup. His preoccupation gives us an excellent
+opportunity to make a critical survey of him without
+laying ourselves open to the charge of impoliteness.</p>
+
+<p>Allan Ware was eighteen years old, a straight, lithe
+lad, with rather rebellious brown hair and a face still<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>
+showing the summer’s tan. His features were not perfect
+by any means, but they were all good, and if you
+would not have thought of calling the face handsome,
+you would nevertheless have liked it on the instant.
+There was a clearness and steadiness about the brown
+eyes, a gentleness about the mouth, and a firmness
+about the chin which all combined to render the countenance
+attractive and singularly wholesome. It was
+a face with which one would never think of associating
+meanness. And yet to jump to the conclusion that
+Allan had never done a mean act would have been
+rash; he was only an average boy, and as human as
+any of them.</p>
+
+<p>Allan had come up to Erskine from Hillton without
+heralding; he was not a star football player, a brilliant
+baseball man, nor a famous athlete; he had always run
+in the distances at the preparatory school principally
+because he liked running and not because he believed
+himself cut out for a record breaker. His afternoon’s
+performance had been as much of a surprise to him
+as to any. At Hillton he had been rather popular
+among his set, but he had never attempted to become
+a leader. His classmates had gone to other colleges&mdash;many
+to Harvard and Yale, a few to Columbia and
+Princeton, only one to Erskine. Allan had chosen the
+latter college to please his mother; his own inclinations<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>
+had been toward Yale, for Allan had lived all his life
+in New Haven, and was blue all through.</p>
+
+<p>But Allan’s grandfather had gone to Erskine&mdash;his
+name was one of those engraved on the twin tablets in
+the chapel transept, tablets sacred to the memories of
+those sons of Erskine who had given their lives in the
+struggle for the preservation of the Union&mdash;and Allan’s
+father had gone there, too. Allan couldn’t remember
+very much about his father&mdash;the latter had died when
+the boy was ten years old&mdash;but he sympathized with
+his mother’s wish that he also should receive his education
+under the elms of Centerport.</p>
+
+<p>His family was not any too well supplied with
+wealth, but his mother’s tastes were simple and her
+wants few, and there had always been enough money
+forthcoming for the needs of his sister Dorothy, two
+years his junior, and for himself. If there had been
+any sacrifices at home, he had never known of them.
+At Hillton he had had about everything he wanted&mdash;his
+tastes were never extravagant&mdash;and the subject of
+money had never occupied his thoughts. At eighteen,
+if one is normal, there are heaps of things far more
+interesting than money. One of them is dinner.</p>
+
+<p>Allan was much interested in dinner to-night. He
+even found it necessary to indulge in a couple of “extras,”
+in order to satisfy a very healthy appetite. For<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
+these he signed with an impressive flourish. When
+the last spoonful of ice-cream had disappeared he
+pushed back his chair and went out. In the coat-room
+he found a dark-complexioned and heavily built youth
+in the act of drawing on a pair of overshoes.</p>
+
+<p>“Couldn’t find my boots,” explained Hal Smiths,
+“so I put these over my slippers. Wait a minute and
+I’ll go along.”</p>
+
+<p>They left the hall together and walked briskly
+toward Main Street. Allan and Hal Smiths had never
+been particularly intimate at Hillton, but as they were
+the only two fellows from that school in the freshman
+class, they had naturally enough felt drawn toward each
+other since they had reached Erskine. During the last
+week, however, Hal had been making friends fast, and
+as a consequence Allan had seen less of him. Hal had
+quite a reputation, gained during his last year at Hillton,
+as a full-back, and he was generally conceded to
+be certain of making the freshman football team, if
+not the varsity second. To-night Hal was full of football
+matters, and Allan let him talk on uninterruptedly
+until they had reached the corner. There:</p>
+
+<p>“Come on down and play some pool,” suggested
+Hal.</p>
+
+<p>But Allan shook his head. He liked pool, but with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>
+a condition in mathematics to work off it behooved him
+to do some studying.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll play some other night,” he said. And then:
+“Say, Hal,” he asked, “do you know a chap in our
+class named Burley?”</p>
+
+<p>“Pete Burley? Yes; what about him?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, nothing. What’s he like?”</p>
+
+<p>“Like an elephant,” answered Hal, disgustedly.
+“A big brute of a chap from Texas or Montana or
+somewhere out that way.” Hal’s ideas of the West
+were rather vague. “Met him the other day; struck
+me as a big idiot. Well, see you to-morrow.”</p>
+
+<p>Hal swung off down Main Street and Allan turned
+toward his room, feeling quite virtuous for that he
+had resisted temptation in the shape of pool and was
+going home to toil. When he opened his door a sheet
+of paper torn from a blue-book fluttered to the floor.
+There was a pin in it and it had evidently been impaled
+on the door. Allan held it to the light and saw in big
+round, boyish characters the inscription:</p>
+
+<p class="noic">“<span class="smcap">Pete Burley</span>.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a><br />
+<small>ON THE CINDERS</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>On the following Monday, Allan set out after his
+three-o’clock recitation for Erskine Field. He stopped
+at his room long enough to leave his books and get his
+mail&mdash;the Sunday letter from home usually put in its
+appearance on Monday afternoon&mdash;and then went on
+out Poplar Street.</p>
+
+<p>It was a fine, mild afternoon, with the sunlight
+sifting down through the branches of the giant elms
+which line the way, and a suggestion of Indian summer
+in the air. If he hadn’t been so busy with his
+letter he could have found plenty to interest him on the
+walk to the field, but, as it was, he was deeply concerned
+with the news from home.</p>
+
+<p>There was talk, his mother wrote, of closing down
+the Gold Beetle mine out in Colorado, from which distant
+enterprise the greater part of her income had long
+been derived in the shape of dividends on a large
+amount of stock; the gold-bearing ore had given out
+and the directors were to consider the course to pursue<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>
+at a meeting in December. Meanwhile, his mother
+explained, the work had stopped, and so had the dividends,
+and she didn’t like to consider what would happen
+if this source of income was shut off for all time.
+Allan tried to feel regretful over the matter, since his
+mother was clearly worried&mdash;more worried than she
+was willing to show, had he but known it&mdash;but the
+Gold Beetle was a long way off, it always had supplied
+them with money, and the idea that it was now to
+cease doing so seemed something quite preposterous.
+The Gold Beetle represented the family fortune, about
+all that remained after his father’s affairs had been
+settled.</p>
+
+<p>Allan found other news more to his liking: Dorothy
+was getting on nicely at her new boarding-school and
+had survived the initial period of tragic homesickness;
+one of Allan’s friends at Hillton, now a Yale freshman,
+had called at the house a few days before; and Edith
+Cinnamon had presented the household with a litter
+of three lovely kittens. Edith Cinnamon was the cat,
+Allan’s particular pet, and the news of the interesting
+event remained in his mind after the reprehensible
+conduct of the Gold Beetle mine had departed from it.
+Mines stand merely for money, but kittens are pets,
+and Allan loved pets. A wonderful idea struck him:
+why not have his mother send him one of the kittens?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>
+He resolved to confer with Mrs. Purdy on his return;
+surely she would have no objections to his obtaining
+a room-mate to share the “parlor study” with him!</p>
+
+<p>When he had changed his clothes for a running
+costume in the locker house and reached the track he
+found fully half a score of fellows before him. There
+was Hooker jogging around the back-stretch; nearer
+at hand was Harris practising starts; in a group at
+the finish of the hurdles he saw Stearns, the track-team
+captain, Rindgely, several fellows whose faces he knew
+but whose names were unknown to him, and Billy
+Kernahan. He drew aside to let a file of runners by
+and then approached the group. Rindgely nodded to
+him slightly, not with any suggestion of unfriendliness,
+but rather in the manner of one who has never been
+properly introduced. Billy accompanied his salutation
+with a critical survey of the half-clothed figure confronting
+him.</p>
+
+<p>“How are you feeling to-day?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Fine, thanks!” answered Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s the boy! We’ll try you at three-quarters
+of a mile after a while. You’d better get warmed up,
+and then try half a dozen starts.”</p>
+
+<p>While the trainer was speaking, Allan was aware
+of the fact that Walter Stearns was observing him
+with evident interest. When Billy ceased, Stearns said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>
+something to him in low tones, and the next moment
+Allan found himself being introduced to the track-team
+captain. Stearns was rather under than above medium
+height, with small features and alert eyes of a steel-gray
+shade that contrasted oddly with his black hair.
+Below his white trunks his legs were thin and muscular,
+and under the faded purple sweater his chest proved
+itself broad and deep. He spoke rapidly, as though
+his tongue had learned the secret of his legs and was
+given to dashes rather than to sustained efforts.</p>
+
+<p>“Glad to know you, Ware,” he said, as he shook
+hands. “Glad you’re coming out to help us.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t believe I’ll be much help,” answered
+Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes; bound to. I saw you run in the handicaps.
+That was a mighty pretty race you made. By
+the way, do you know Mr. Long? And this is Mr.
+Monroe. And Mr. Mason. Keep in with Mason. He’s
+office-boy on the Purple and writes criticisms of the
+track team.”</p>
+
+<p>Allan shook hands with the three, while the group
+laughed at Stearns’s fling at the managing editor of
+the college weekly. Long was a startlingly tall fellow,
+with a crooked nose and twinkling, yellowish eyes, and
+Monroe was short and thick-set, and looked ill-tempered.
+Mason, Allan recognized as one of a half-dozen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>
+men whom he had seen about college and as to whose
+identity he had been curious. Mason was the sort of
+fellow that attracts attention: tall, broad-shouldered,
+with shrewd, kindly eyes behind glasses and a firm
+mouth under a straight and sensitive nose. He looked
+very much the gentleman, and Allan was glad to make
+his acquaintance. He was in the dark as to what position
+Mason really occupied on the Purple, and so the
+point of Stearns’s joke was lost on him. But he smiled,
+nevertheless, having learned that it is sometimes well
+to assume knowledge when one hasn’t it.</p>
+
+<p>“See you again,” said Stearns. The others nodded
+with various degrees of friendliness and Allan took
+himself off. The track was in good condition to-day
+and held the spikes firmly. Allan jogged up and down
+the stretch a few times, trying his muscles, which on
+Saturday had felt a bit stiff after the mile run, and
+lifting his knees high. Then he started around the
+track. Half-way around he drew up behind Hooker.</p>
+
+<p>“Hello!” said the latter. “Nice day, isn’t it?”</p>
+
+<p>Allan agreed that it was, and the two went on
+together to the turn. There Hooker turned up the
+straightaway.</p>
+
+<p>“Going to try starts?” he asked. “Let’s go up
+to the end there.”</p>
+
+<p>Allan couldn’t see the necessity for becoming proficient<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>
+in the crouching start until Hooker explained
+as they returned from a brief dash, in which the
+younger lad had been left wofully far behind.</p>
+
+<p>“Sometimes,” said Hooker, “you’ll want the pole
+at the start, and if you’re placed two or three places
+away from it, you won’t get it from a stand, you see.
+But if you use the crouch and get away quick, you
+have a pretty good show of getting ahead of the men
+who have the inside of you. Let’s try it again. You
+give the signal this time.”</p>
+
+<p>After ten minutes of it, Allan picked up his sweater
+and followed Hooker down the track to report to Kernahan.
+The football men had taken possession of the
+gridiron by this time, Long and others were practising
+at the high jump, and altogether the field looked very
+busy.</p>
+
+<p>“You and Ware try three laps,” said the trainer
+to Hooker. “Watch your form, now, and never mind
+about your time. I’ll attend to that for you. Take
+turn about at the pacing; you take the first lap, Hooker.
+Want to get into this, Larry?”</p>
+
+<p>Rindgely nodded and peeled off his sweater. The
+others had to trot about for a minute or two while
+Rindgely stretched his muscles. Then the three got on
+to the mark, Billy gave the word, and they started off
+at an easy pace, Hooker in the lead, Allan next, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>
+Rindgely in the rear. All three hugged the rim of
+the track and settled down into their pace. On the
+back-stretch they had to slow down once to avoid a group
+of football substitutes who were crossing the cinders,
+and once Rindgely was forced to leap over a ball that
+came bouncing out onto the track, and was much incensed
+about it. Hooker’s pace was wonderfully steady,
+but Allan thought it rather slow. At the mark Billy
+told them to “hit it up a bit now,” and Hooker slowed
+down, letting Allan into the lead.</p>
+
+<p>Allan increased the pace considerably. This time
+there were no interruptions, and they neared the end
+of the second lap fresh and untired. Kernahan glanced
+up from his watch as they sped by.</p>
+
+<p>“All right!” he shouted. “Get up there, Larry,
+and hold that pace.”</p>
+
+<p>Rindgely took the lead. As they commenced the
+turn Allan’s gaze, wandering a second from the front,
+lighted upon a tall, wide-shouldered and somewhat uncouth
+figure at the edge of the track. Strange to say,
+the figure nodded its head at him and waved a hand,
+and as Allan went by there came a stentorian cry of
+encouragement that might have been heard half across
+the field:</p>
+
+<p>“Chase ’em down, Freshman! Give ’em fits!”</p>
+
+<p>Allan bit his lips angrily as he sped on. What<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>
+business had that big chump yelling at him like that
+when he didn’t even know him? Pretty fresh, that’s
+what it was! Allan hadn’t made the acquaintances of
+so many fellows but that he could remember them, and
+he was quite sure that he had never met the big chap
+who had yelled. But at the same time there had been
+something familiar about the fellow’s voice&mdash;too familiar,
+thought Allan with a grudging smile&mdash;and he
+wondered who he might be and why he had singled
+him out for his unwelcome attentions. Then the incident
+passed for the time out of his mind, for the last
+turn was almost at hand and Rindgely was increasing
+the pace.</p>
+
+<p>Allan began to feel it at the turn, and when they
+swung into the home-stretch and the pace, instead of
+settling down to a steady finish, grew faster and faster,
+he came to the unwelcome conclusion that he was not
+in the same class with the other two. Rindgely, in
+spite of all Allan could do, lengthened the space between
+them. Hooker, seeing that Allan was out of it,
+passed him fifty yards from the mark and strove to
+overhaul the leader. But Rindgely was never headed,
+and finished several yards in front of Hooker and at
+least thirty ahead of Allan. When they turned and
+jogged back to the trainer, the latter was slipping his
+watch into his pocket.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“What’s the good of doing that, Larry?” he asked,
+disgustedly. “That wasn’t a race.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I just wanted to liven it up a bit,” answered
+Rindgely, grinning. “What time did I make, Billy?”</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t take you,” answered the trainer, shortly.
+“That’s enough for to-day.”</p>
+
+<p>Allan turned away with the others, but Billy called
+him back.</p>
+
+<p>“What was the matter?” he asked. “Pace too
+hot for you?”</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose so; I couldn’t stand that spurt.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, that was some of Larry’s nonsense; he’d
+no business cutting up tricks.” He was silent a moment,
+looking across to where the second eleven was
+trying vainly to keep the varsity from pushing over her
+goal-line. Then, “Ever try the two miles?” he asked.
+Allan shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t believe I’d be any good at it,” he answered.
+“Not that I’m any good at the mile, either,”
+he added, somewhat discouraged at the outcome of the
+trial.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s the best you ever did at the mile?”</p>
+
+<p>“About four minutes forty-five seconds.”</p>
+
+<p>“You did it inside of forty, Friday.”</p>
+
+<p>“I did?” Allan looked his surprise. “Oh, but
+I ran a hundred and twenty yards short.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“I allowed for that,” answered Billy, quietly.
+“Now, look here, Ware; you’ve got it in you all right,
+but you don’t make the most of yourself. You let your
+feet drag back badly, and you’ve been trying after too
+long a stride. You make that shorter by six inches and
+you’ll cut off another second after a while. And to-morrow
+I’ll show you what I mean about the stride.
+There’s plenty of time before the dual meet in the
+spring, and by then we’ll have you doing things right.
+The only thing is,” he added, thoughtfully, “whether
+you wouldn’t do better at the two miles. What do you
+think?”</p>
+
+<p>“I really don’t know,” answered Allan, doubtfully,
+“but I’d like to try it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, there’s lots of time. The indoor meet in
+Boston comes along in February; we’ll have you in
+shape for that, and you can go in for the mile and
+the two miles. Meanwhile, you’d better come out with
+the other men while the decent weather lasts.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you think I can make the team?” Allan asked,
+hopefully.</p>
+
+<p>“Easy; but they don’t take new men on till after
+the trials in the spring.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh!” said Allan, a trifle disappointed.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t let that bother you,” advised the trainer.
+“You’re as good as on it now. You make the most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>
+of the fall training, Ware, and keep fit during the
+winter. I’d go in for hockey or something. Ever play
+hockey?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, but I can’t skate well enough.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, get plenty of outdoor exercise of some sort
+this winter; don’t let the weather keep you indoors.”</p>
+
+<p>“All right, I’ll remember.” Allan’s gaze wandered
+toward the locker building. Half-way across the field
+a big figure was ambling toward the gate, hands in
+pockets. Allan turned quickly to the trainer. “Do
+you know who that fellow is?” Kernahan’s gaze followed
+his. After a moment:</p>
+
+<p>“That’s a freshman named Burley. Know him?”</p>
+
+<p>“No; I just wondered who he was,” Allan replied.</p>
+
+<p>“And I don’t want to know him,” he muttered,
+irritably, as he trotted off to the locker house.</p>
+
+<p>But Fate seldom consults our inclinations.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a><br />
+<small>HAL HAS AN IDEA</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>It seemed to Allan during the next few days that
+the bulky form of Peter Burley was bent upon haunting
+him. On Tuesday morning, in English, he was aware
+of Burley’s presence a few rows behind him; when he
+looked around, it was to encounter the big fellow’s
+smiling regard. There was really nothing offensive in
+that smile; it was merely one of intense friendliness,
+quite unconventional in its intensity, but it irritated
+Allan greatly. Why couldn’t Burley let him alone?
+Just because he had kept him from falling and lugged
+him to the dressing-tent, he seemed to have an idea
+that Allan was his especial property. And then the
+cheek of scrawling his silly name on a fellow’s door!
+And yelling like a three-ply idiot at the track!</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps the fact that Burley, whoever and whatever
+he was, was markedly popular rather increased
+Allan’s prejudice. Wherever Burley sat in class there
+was invariably a good deal of subdued noise and laughter,
+and when he left the hall it was always as the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>
+center of a small circle of fellows, above which Burley
+towered head and shoulders. Secretly, Allan envied
+Burley’s success with his fellows, but in conversation
+with Smiths he dubbed Burley a mountebank. Hal
+was visibly impressed with the word and used it unflaggingly
+the rest of the year.</p>
+
+<p>Wednesday, Burley was again on the field, but this
+time he made no remarks as Allan passed him on the
+track; merely smiled and nodded with his offensive
+familiarity and then turned his attention to the football
+practise. As usual, he was the center of a group,
+and after Allan had passed the turn he heard their
+laughter and wondered if Burley had selected him as
+a butt for his silly jokes. After that Allan saw him
+at least once a day until on the following Wednesday
+night, when the freshman election took place in Grace
+Hall, and Burley leaped into even greater, and to Allan
+more offensive, prominence.</p>
+
+<p>There were two leading candidates for the presidency,
+and, contrary to the usual custom, the opposing
+forces had failed to arrange a compromise and a distribution
+of offices. The contest was prolonged and exciting.
+On the ninth ballot, Mordaunt, a St. Mathias
+fellow, won amidst the howls of the opposition. The
+rival candidate was elected secretary, but promptly and
+somewhat heatedly declined. New nominations were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>
+called for, and Burley was proposed simultaneously
+from two sides of the room. His name met with loud
+applause. Burley, sitting unconcernedly near the door,
+grinned his appreciation of the joke. Two other names
+were offered, and then the balloting began. On the
+first ballot, Peter Burley, of Blackwater, Col., was
+elected.</p>
+
+<p>Burley tried to get on to his feet to refuse the
+honor, but owing to the fact that three companions held
+him down while the chairman rapped wildly for order,
+he failed to gain recognition. The next moment the
+election was made unanimous. Allan grunted his disapproval.
+Hal said it didn’t much matter who was
+secretary; anybody could be that.</p>
+
+<p>Hal accompanied Allan back to the latter’s room
+and stayed until late, talking most of the time about
+his chances of making the varsity squad, what he was
+going to do if he didn’t, and how he didn’t give a rap
+anyway.</p>
+
+<p>“Of course, I can make the freshman team all
+right, but what’s that? They have only four outside
+games scheduled, and two of those don’t amount to anything;
+just high schools. The only game they go away
+for is the one with Dexter. And this thing of working
+hard for a month to play the Robinson freshmen isn’t
+what it’s cracked up to be.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Who will win?” asked Allan, suppressing a
+yawn.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s the trouble. It’s more’n likely that Robinson
+will. We’ve got a lot of good men&mdash;fast backs
+and a mighty brainy little quarter&mdash;but we haven’t got
+any support for our center. Cheesman’s a wonder, but
+he can’t do much with guards like Murray and Kirk
+beside him. Why, Kirk doesn’t weigh a hundred and
+seventy, and Murray’s only a hundred and eighty-something.
+Poor is going to issue another call for candidates;
+he’s going to ask every man of a hundred and
+seventy-five or over to come out. Say!”</p>
+
+<p>Hal sat up suddenly in the Morris chair and looked
+like a Great Discoverer.</p>
+
+<p>“Say what?” murmured Allan, drowsily.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s the matter with that man Burley?”</p>
+
+<p>“A good deal, I should say, if you ask me,” answered
+Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“I mean for a guard,” said Smiths, impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>“He probably never saw a football,” objected
+Allan. “They don’t play it out West, do they?”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t they, though! Look at Michigan and Wisconsin
+and&mdash;and the rest of them!”</p>
+
+<p>“I refuse.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, Burley’s just the man! He must weigh
+two hundred if he weighs a pound!”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Looks as though he might weigh a ton. But if
+he doesn’t know the game&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“How do you know he doesn’t?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t. But if he did know it, wouldn’t he have
+been out before this?”</p>
+
+<p>Smiths was silenced for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, even if he doesn’t know it, he can be taught,
+I guess. And we’ve got a whole lot of science now;
+what we need is beef.”</p>
+
+<p>“Burley looks more like an ass than a cow,” said
+Allan, disagreeably. Smiths stared.</p>
+
+<p>“Say, what’s he done to you, anyway? You seem
+to be beastly sore on him.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve told you what he’s done.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, that! Besides, he lugged you off the track;
+that’s nothing to get mad about, is it?”</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose not; I’m not mad about that&mdash;or anything
+else. He just&mdash;just makes me tired.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I’ll bet he’s our man.” Smiths jumped up
+and seized his cap. “I’ll run over and tell Poor.”</p>
+
+<p>“What, at this time of night?”</p>
+
+<p>“Pshaw! it’s only eleven-thirty. He’ll be glad to
+know about it.”</p>
+
+<p>“He’ll probably pitch you down-stairs, and serve
+you right.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not much he won’t. Good night.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Good night,” answered Allan. “I’ve got some
+surgeon’s plaster, if you need it.”</p>
+
+<p>Hal Smiths slammed the door and took the front
+porch in one leap. Then the gate crashed. Allan listened
+intently.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s funny!” he muttered. “He must have
+missed the lamp-post!”</p>
+
+<p>He took up a book, found a pencil, and opened the
+table-drawer in search of a pad. As he did so, his eyes
+fell on a folded sheet of lined paper. He read the
+penciled words on it&mdash;“Peter Burley”&mdash;and, refolding
+it after a moment of indecision, tucked it back in
+a corner of the drawer, frowning deeply the while.</p>
+
+<p>Allan didn’t see Hal the next day; neither was
+the objectionable Burley visible on the field in the
+afternoon when Allan ran his first practise over the
+mile. Kernahan didn’t hold the watch on him, the
+distance was unfamiliar to him, and he lost all idea
+of his time after the fourth lap, and ended pretty well
+tuckered out.</p>
+
+<p>“All right,” said the trainer, when it was over.
+“You ran it a bit too fast at the start. But you’ll get
+onto it after a while.”</p>
+
+<p>On Friday Allan saw Hal only for an instant and
+had no chance to question him as to the result of his
+midnight visit to the freshman football captain. Consequently,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>
+it was not until Saturday that he learned
+of Burley’s appearance on the field as a candidate for
+admission into the freshman team. There was no track
+work that afternoon, since the Erskine varsity played
+State University. Allan went out to the field alone and
+watched the game from the season-ticket holders’ stand,
+and cheered quite madly when the Erskine quarter-back,
+availing himself for the first time of the new
+rules, seemed to pass the ball to a trio of plunging
+backs, and after an instant of delay set off almost
+alone around State’s left end with the pigskin cuddled
+in his arm, and flew down the field for over seventy
+yards to a touch-down.</p>
+
+<p>That settled the score for the first half, and the
+teams trotted off with honors even. There was a good
+deal of dissatisfaction expressed in Allan’s neighborhood
+over the playing of the home team, and much
+gloomy prophecy was indulged in in regard to the
+outcome of the final and most important game of the
+season&mdash;that with Erskine’s old-time rival, Robinson
+University.</p>
+
+<p>About the middle of the intermission, Allan heard
+his name called, and looked down to see a small, sandy-haired
+fellow waving a note-book at him. Allan waved
+back, and the owner of the note-book&mdash;the latter his
+never-absent badge of office&mdash;climbed up the seats and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
+was duly pummeled and laid hold of on his way.
+Tommy Sweet was a Hillton fellow, and considering
+that he had been a class ahead of Allan at that school,
+the two had been quite friendly there until Sweet had
+gone up to Erskine. So far Allan had not seen much
+of him, for Tommy was “on the Purple,” as he liked
+to put it, and was an extremely busy youth. Tommy’s
+friends declared he would find something to do if he
+was strapped in bed.</p>
+
+<p>The key-note of Tommy was eagerness. His wide-open
+blue eyes were always staring about the world in
+search for something to engage his attention, and his
+ridiculously small mouth was forever pursed into something
+between a grin and an exclamation-point. His
+hair was just the color of tow, and the freckles which
+covered every available portion of his face were several
+shades darker, but harmonized perfectly. He was tireless
+in the search for news for the Purple, and when it
+came to activity would have made the proverbial ant
+or beaver look like a sluggard. Tommy thought sleep
+a criminal waste of time, and even begrudged the moments
+spent in eating.</p>
+
+<p>Tommy was only perfectly happy when doing four
+things at once; less than four left him dull and dissatisfied.
+Clarke Mason once said: “I’ll bet some day
+Tommy will commit second-degree murder so they’ll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>
+give him hard labor for life.” For the rest he was a
+cheerful, likable fellow, aggressively honest and painfully
+conscientious.</p>
+
+<p>“What did you think of that run of Cutler’s?” he
+asked, breathlessly, as he sank onto the seat at Allan’s
+side. “Peach, wasn’t it? It’ll show up great in the
+diagram I’m making; see!” He opened his note-book
+and exhibited a puzzling maze of lines and dots, figures
+and letters. “That’s the first half. Everything’s
+there&mdash;runs, kicks, plunges, penalties, the whole show.”</p>
+
+<p>“What’s it for?” asked Allan. “Anything to do
+with geometry?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, no; it’s&mdash; Oh, quit your kidding! It’s to
+go with my report of the game. It shows how the
+gains were made and who made ’em. And I’ve introduced
+something new in diagrams, too. See these figures
+along the edge here&mdash;4:17, 4:22, and so on?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I see something there, I think,” answered
+Allan, cautiously.</p>
+
+<p>“Those signify the time each play was made,” said
+Tommy, triumphantly. “That’s never been done before,
+you know.”</p>
+
+<p>“I see. But it must keep you pretty busy. Do
+you have to write the game up, too?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes.” Tommy showed three or four pages
+of awful-looking scrawls from a fountain-pen. “That’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>
+done in a sort of shorthand, and I write it out full
+length at the office. Say, where did you tell me your
+room was? I meant to put it down, but forgot it.
+Purdy’s? Oh, yes; I know where that is. I want to
+come around some evening, if I can ever find the time.
+How are you getting on? Anything I can do for you?
+Any fellows you’d like to meet? No? Well, let me
+know if I can do anything for you. Very glad to,
+you know. That was quite a race you made the other
+day. Billy seems to have taken a fancy to you, doesn’t
+he? He’s all right, Allan; you shine up to him and&mdash;
+Hello! there’s a fellow I want to see. Come and see
+me, will you? Twenty-two Sesson, you know. So long,
+old chap!”</p>
+
+<p>Tommy hurried pell-mell down the stand, shaking
+off detaining hands, and disappeared into the throng.
+Allan took a long breath; he felt as though a small
+hurricane had been playing with him. The teams came
+onto the field again and the second half began. It
+proved uninteresting, and only the superior weight of
+the Erskine eleven won them the game finally by the
+close margin of a safety. Allan followed the throng out
+of the enclosure and across toward the locker house and
+the gate. But half-way there the crowd divided, and
+Allan presently found himself looking on at the practise
+of the freshman teams. The first team had the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>
+ball on the second’s five-yard line and was trying very
+hard to put it over to an accompaniment of command
+and entreaty from the coaches.</p>
+
+<p>“Third down and two to go!” some one shouted.
+A shrill voice called a jumble of figures and a tandem
+slid forward at a tangent, and for an instant confusion
+reigned. Then suddenly a roar of laughter went up,
+the line of watchers broke forward, and Allan found
+himself directly in the path of what at first glance
+looked like an avalanche of canvas and leather. Springing
+back, he escaped being borne along by the group
+of struggling players, in the center of which, rising like
+a city sky-scraper out of a huddle of shanties, stood
+forth, calm and determined, the countenance of Peter
+Burley.</p>
+
+<p>In his arms, struggling but helpless, was the first
+eleven’s left half-back, and to his back and legs and,
+in short, to every portion of his anatomy, hung the
+enemy, for all the world like bees on a nest in swarming
+time. Behind them the second eleven pushed and
+shoved, and relentlessly the whole mass moved down
+the field. And somewhere, drowned by the laughter
+of the spectators and the despairing shrieks of “Down!
+Down!” from the abducted half-back, sounded feebly
+the referee’s whistle.</p>
+
+<p>One by one the impeditive players dropped away,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>
+and Burley’s triumphant advance toward the enemy’s
+goal was stopped by the referee and two coaches. Burley
+set down the half-back, in whose arms the pigskin
+was still clutched, but did not release his grasp until
+his obligations were hurriedly but clearly explained to
+him. Then he patted the half-back on the shoulder
+in a paternal manner and retraced his steps to the enthusiastic
+applause of the convulsed throng. The second
+team hugged as much of him as they could encompass
+and he smiled cheerfully, but was evidently still
+somewhat perplexed. The ball went to the second on
+her eight yards and the game continued, Burley, at
+right guard, looming head and shoulders above his
+companions.</p>
+
+<p>Allan watched the game for a few moments longer,
+and then continued his journey. Somehow the calm,
+inscrutable manner in which the big freshman had
+strode down the field in unquestioning obedience to
+what he had supposed to be his duty appealed to Allan.
+It had been awfully funny, and Allan smiled as he
+recalled it. But the incident had held for him something
+more than humor, just what he hardly knew; but
+whatever it was, and even though he would have found
+it difficult to give a name to it, it completely changed
+his feeling toward Burley. By the time he had reached
+Mrs. Purdy’s front gate, he was wondering whether
+Burley still desired his acquaintance.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a><br />
+<small>“MR. PETER BURLEY, BLACKWATER, COL.”</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>Hal Smiths dropped in after dinner that evening
+and Allan brought the conversation around to the subject
+of Burley, whose performance during practise had
+been the chief topic at the dinner-table.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, Poor was awfully pleased at my suggestion,”
+said Hal, “after I found him. It was after twelve
+then, and I’d chased half over college looking for him.
+He said he wasn’t very good at persuasion and thought
+Burley would require lots of it; so he asked me to see
+him. Poor’s a pretty good little chap, so I went. Burley
+was awfully decent. Said he had never played and
+had never even seen the game until he came here; said
+he hadn’t been able to find out what it was all about, but
+that if we wanted him to try it, why, of course, he
+would. Said he thought it looked like pretty good fun,
+and got me to sort of explain it a bit. One thing he
+wanted to know,” laughed Hal, “was whether you could
+hit a man if he didn’t have the ball.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, he played it for all it was worth this afternoon,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>
+said Allan, smiling. “You heard about it,
+didn’t you?”</p>
+
+<p>“No; what was it? I sat on the side line all afternoon,
+and waited to get a whack at State University.
+What did Burley do?”</p>
+
+<p>So Allan told him, and Hal laughed until the tears
+came.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, he’s a genius, he is!” he said.</p>
+
+<p>After a minute of chuckling, he went on:</p>
+
+<p>“Look here, Allan, I think you’d rather like him
+if you got to know him. He’s&mdash;he’s rather a decent
+sort, after all. I didn’t take to him at first, of course,
+but&mdash;and I don’t say now that he’s the sort of chap
+you’d want to ask home and introduce to your people;
+he’s kind of free and easy, and you couldn’t be sure
+he wouldn’t drink the catsup out of the bottle or slap
+your governor on the back&mdash;but he’s&mdash;well, there’s something
+about him you can’t help liking,” he ended, with
+an apologetic tone.</p>
+
+<p>“Maybe I would,” answered Allan, pleasantly. Hal
+looked surprised.</p>
+
+<p>“He’s given up the class secretaryship, you know,”
+he announced.</p>
+
+<p>“Why?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know for sure, but Poor says he told him
+it was because he didn’t think he’d be here much after
+the holidays.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Where’s he going?” asked Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t know. Funny idea, to come to college for
+half a year. Maybe&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>There were footsteps on the porch, the front portal
+opened with a crash, and an imperative knock sounded
+on the room door. Allan jumped to his feet. Could
+it be fire? he wondered, shooting a bewildered glance
+at Hal. He hurried to the door just as the hammering
+began again, more violently than before. Hal raised
+himself uneasily from the Morris chair, prepared for
+the worst. Allan called, “<em>Come in!</em>” and the door
+was flung open.</p>
+
+<p>Entered Tommy Sweet!</p>
+
+<p>“You thundering idiot!” bawled Hal. “I thought
+it was at least the Dean! You can make more&mdash;
+Hello, Burley! Glad to see you.”</p>
+
+<p>“This is Mr. Burley, Allan,” Tommy was saying.
+“Brought him around ’cause I wanted you to know
+each other. Mr. Ware&mdash;Mr. Burley.”</p>
+
+<p>Allan felt his hand enveloped in something large
+and warm and vise-like. He felt his fingers crushed
+together, thought he could hear the bones breaking&mdash;and
+still managed to smile painfully, but politely, the
+while. Then Burley had dropped his hand and was
+saying:</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve wanted to know you ever since I saw you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>
+win that running race the other day. Came around
+here and left a card on you, but I guess you didn’t
+find it.”</p>
+
+<p>Allan murmured his appreciation, but remained
+silent as to the “card.”</p>
+
+<p>“I told Sweet here that you’d win that race. Offered
+to bet him anything he liked. He wouldn’t bet,
+though.” Peter Burley took the chair proffered by Hal
+and carefully lowered himself into it.</p>
+
+<p>“They told me you carried me over to the tent,”
+said Allan. “Much obliged, I’m sure.”</p>
+
+<p>“Welcome,” answered the other, heartily. “You
+didn’t weigh anything to mention.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not as heavy as the freshman team, eh?” asked
+Tommy. Burley looked apologetically around the
+circle.</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose every one’s heard of that fool thing?”
+he asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Just about every one, I guess,” laughed Tommy.</p>
+
+<p>“That comes of trying to do something you don’t
+know how to do. This fellow Smiths here came around
+to my shack the other day and said the class wanted
+me to play football because I weigh some. Well, ginger!
+I didn’t know anything about the thing, and
+I told him so. But he would have it that I must play.
+And look what happens! I make a measly show of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>
+myself right out there on the range in front of the
+whole outfit!”</p>
+
+<p>“No harm done,” said Hal. “You did what you
+tried to.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, I didn’t. There was a little cuss there in a
+Derby hat wouldn’t let me. I was going to take that
+half-backed fellow down to the other end and throw
+him over the line. That’s what I was going to do.
+They didn’t tell me I had to slap him on the chest and
+butt him with my head.”</p>
+
+<p>“But, you see,” explained Allan, “he called
+‘Down’ just when you began to lug him off.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s what they said. I was supposed to let go
+of him when he said that, but I just thought he was
+throwing up the sponge and wanted me to let him down.
+If I’d known he could have spoiled it by yelling ‘Down,’
+I’d have held his mouth shut.”</p>
+
+<p>This summoned laughter, and Burley glanced
+around at the others in wide surprise. Allan felt surprise,
+too. Was Burley really quite so unsophisticated
+as he seemed, he wondered, or&mdash; His glance met Burley’s.
+The big fellow’s right eyelid dropped slowly in
+a portentous wink. Allan smiled. His question was
+answered. While the others entered into an explanation
+and discussion of the rules and ethics of football,
+Allan studied the Westerner.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Peter Burley looked to be, and was, twenty years
+of age. In form he was remarkably large; he was an
+inch over six feet tall, and weighed 203 pounds. Nowhere
+about him was there evidence of unnecessary fat,
+but he was deep of chest and wide of shoulder and
+hips. His hands and feet were large, and the latter
+were encased in enormously heavy shoes.</p>
+
+<p>When it came to features, Burley was undeniably
+good-looking in a certain breezy, unconventional way.
+(Allan soon found that Burley’s breeziness and absence
+of convention were not confined to his looks.) Burley’s
+hair was brown, of no particular shade, and his eyes
+matched his hair. His nose was big and straight and
+his mouth well shaped. His cheeks were deeply tanned,
+but showed little color beneath. His usual expression
+was one of careless, whimsical good nature, but there
+was an earnest and kindly gleam in the brown eyes that
+lent character to the face. He talked with a drawl,
+and pronounced many words in a way quite novel to
+Allan. But&mdash;and this Allan discovered later&mdash;when
+occasion required, he was capable of delivering his remarks
+in a sharp, incisive way that made the words
+sound like rifle-shots. At the present moment he was
+talking with almost exaggerated deliberateness.</p>
+
+<p>“Sweet says you and he went to a preparatory school
+together,” he said, turning to Allan. “I wish my old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>
+man had sent me to one of those things. What was
+your school like?”</p>
+
+<p>Allan told him of Hillton, and Tommy and Hal
+chimed in from time to time and helped him along.
+It was a large subject and one they liked, and half an
+hour passed before they had finished. Burley listened
+with evident interest, and only interrupted occasionally
+to ask a question.</p>
+
+<p>“How’d you happen to come to Erskine?” asked
+Tommy, when the subject had been exhausted. Burley
+took one big knee into his hands and considered the
+question for a moment in silence.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I’ll tell you,” he said at last. “You see, I
+had a go at the university over in Boulder; that’s near
+Denver,” he explained, parenthetically. “But we
+didn’t get on very well together, the faculty and me,
+and I was always turning up at the ranch. Well, the
+old man got tired of seeing me around so much; said
+he’d paid for my keep at the university, and I’d ought
+to stay there and get even with the game. But, ginger!
+the corral wasn’t big enough. Every time I’d try to
+be good, something would come along and happen, and&mdash;first
+thing I knew, I’d be roaming at large again.
+So the old man said he guessed what I needed was
+to get far enough away from home so I wouldn’t back-trail
+so often; said there wasn’t much doing when I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>
+went to college Monday morning and showed up for
+feed Thursday night. First he tried taking my railroad
+pass away; but when I couldn’t scare up the money,
+I rode home on a freight. I got to know the train
+crews on the D. &amp; R. G. pretty well long toward spring.
+When vacation came, we all agreed to call it off&mdash;the
+faculty and the old man and me. So I went up to
+Rico and fooled around a mine there all summer.
+When&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“What was the name of the mine?” asked Allan,
+eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>“This one was the Indian Girl. There’s lots of
+’em thereabouts. The old man&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Say, is the ‘old man’ your father?” asked
+Tommy.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; why?”</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing, only I should think he’d lick you if he
+heard you calling him that.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, he doesn’t mind. Besides, he isn’t really old;
+only about forty. He calls me Kid, too,” he added,
+smiling broadly. “Well, in the summer he wanted to
+know where I’d rather go to college&mdash;Yale, Harvard,
+Princeton, Pennsylvania; he said he didn’t care so long
+as it was far enough away to keep me from diggin’ out
+for home every week and presenting myself with vacations
+not down on the calendar. Well, there was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>
+fellow up at the mine named Thompson; he was superintendent.
+I was helping him&mdash;or thought I was&mdash;and
+so we got to be pretty good friends. He was a nice
+little fellow, about as high as a sage-bush, and as plucky
+as a bulldog. Well, he went to college here about ten
+years ago, and he used to tell me a good deal about the
+place. So, when the old man said, ‘Which is it?’ I
+told him Erskine. He said he’d never heard tell of it,
+but so long as it was about two thousand miles from
+Blackwater he guessed it would do. And that’s how.
+Now you talk.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s the first time I ever heard of choosing a
+college because it was a long way from home,” laughed
+Hal. “I’d like to meet that father of yours.”</p>
+
+<p>“Better go back with me Christmas,” said Burley.
+Hal stared at him doubtfully, undecided whether to
+laugh or not. “Of course,” continued Burley, carelessly,
+“we haven’t got much out there. It’s pretty
+much all alfalfa and sage-bush around Blackwater. But
+the hills aren’t far, and there’s good hunting up toward
+Routt. You fellows all better come; the old man would
+be pleased to have you.”</p>
+
+<p>Hal stared wide-eyed.</p>
+
+<p>“Aren’t you fooling?” he gasped.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#image01">“Fooling?” Burley echoed. “Why, no, I ain’t
+fooling.</a> What’s wrong?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Nothing; but of course we couldn’t do it, you
+know; at least, I’m plumb sure I couldn’t.” Hal
+looked doubtfully at the others.</p>
+
+<p>“Nor I,” said Allan. “I only wish I could.”</p>
+
+<p>“Same here,” said Tommy, wistfully. “I’d give
+a heap to have the chance.”</p>
+
+<p>“Sorry,” answered Burley. “Perhaps in the summer,
+or some other time, when you haven’t got anything
+better. I suppose your folks want you at home
+Christmas?”</p>
+
+<p>“Y-yes,” replied Hal, “but it isn’t altogether that;
+there’s the expense, you see.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, it wouldn’t cost you anything much,” said
+Burley. “It’s all on me. You’d better say you’ll
+come.”</p>
+
+<p>Hal’s eyes opened wider than before.</p>
+
+<p>“You mean you’d pay our fares&mdash;all our fares&mdash;out
+to Colorado and back?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Sure. We’d only have about a week out there,
+but we could do a lot of damage in a week.”</p>
+
+<p>Hal was silent from amazement. Allan stammered
+his thanks. Tommy merely sat and stared at Burley,
+as though fascinated. The latter translated silence into
+assent.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, we’ll call it fixed, eh?” he asked, heartily.</p>
+
+<p>“Thunder, no!” exploded Hal. “We couldn’t do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>
+that, Burley. We’re awfully much obliged, but, of
+course, if we went out there to visit you, we’d pay our
+own way. And I don’t believe any of us could do that&mdash;this
+Christmas, at least.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, be good!” said Burley. “Now, look here;
+I’d let you do that much for me.”</p>
+
+<p>“But we couldn’t,” said Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, you would if you could, of course; wouldn’t
+you, now?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why&mdash;er&mdash;I suppose we would,” Allan faltered.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, there you are!” said Burley, triumphantly.
+“That settles it.”</p>
+
+<p>It took the others some time to prove to him that
+it didn’t settle it, and Burley listened with polite, but
+disapproving, attention. When the argument was concluded,
+he shook his head sorrowfully.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re a lot of Indians!” he said. “You’re not
+doing the square thing by me, and I’m going to pull
+my freight.” He drew himself out of the chair and
+rescued his big felt hat from beneath it. There was
+a general pushing back of chairs. “You and Mr. Ware
+must come around to my tepee some night soon,” Burley
+told Hal, “and we’ll have another pow-wow. Seems
+like I’d done all the chinning to-night.” He shook
+hands with Allan, who strove to bear the pain with
+fortitude and only grimaced once, and said in quite a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>
+matter-of-fact way, “I guess you and I are going to
+be partners. Good night.”</p>
+
+<p>Allan muttered that he hoped so, and after the three
+visitors had taken their departures he examined his
+hand under the light to see if bruises or dislocations
+were visible.</p>
+
+<p>“I wonder,” he asked himself, with a rueful smile,
+“if he shakes hands very often with his partners?”</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</a><br />
+<small>“RIGHT GUARD BACK!”</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>November started in with an Indian summer, but
+by the middle of the month the spell had broken, and
+a week of hard, driving rain succeeded the bright
+weather. Until then Allan had spent almost every
+afternoon on the cinder-track, running the half mile
+at good speed, doing the mile and a half inside his
+time, occasionally practising sprinting, and, once a
+week, jogging around until he had left nine laps behind
+him and had covered a quarter of a mile over
+his distance.</p>
+
+<p>For by this time Kernahan had decided that the
+two-mile event was what he was cut out for, but promised
+him, nevertheless, that at the indoor athletic meeting,
+in February, he should be allowed to try both the
+mile and the two miles. The trainer’s instruction had
+already bettered Allan’s form; his stride had lost in
+length and gained in speed and grace until it became
+a subject for admiring comment among the fellows.</p>
+
+<p>The Purple, in an article on Fall Work of the Track
+Team Candidates, hailed “Ware ’07” as “a most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>
+promising runner, and one who has improved rapidly
+in form since the Fall Handicaps until at present he
+easily leads the distance men in that feature. It is
+Mr. Kernahan’s intention,” concluded the Purple, “to
+develop Ware as a two-miler, since this year, as in
+several years past, there is a dearth of first-class material
+for this distance.”</p>
+
+<p>But the rains put an end to the track work, as they
+put an end to all outdoor activities save football, and
+training was practically dropped by the candidates. On
+three occasions, when the clouds temporarily ceased
+emptying themselves onto a sodden earth, the middle
+and long distance candidates were sent on cross-country
+jogs and straggled home at dusk, very wet and muddy,
+and much out of temper. A week before Thanksgiving
+the sky became less gloomy and a sharp frost froze the
+earth till it rang like metal underfoot.</p>
+
+<p>It was on one such day, a Saturday, that the Robinson
+freshman football team came to town and, headed
+by a brass band, marched out to the field to do battle
+with the Erskine youngsters. The varsity team had
+journeyed from home to play Artmouth, and consequently
+the freshman contest drew the entire college
+and town, and enthusiasm reigned supreme in spite of
+the fact that a Robinson victory was acknowledged to
+be a foregone conclusion.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Allan and Tommy Sweet watched the game from
+the side lines; Tommy, with note-book in hand, darting
+hither and thither from one point of vantage to another,
+and Allan vainly striving to keep up with him.
+The latter had gained admission beyond the ropes by
+posing as Tommy’s assistant; the assistance rendered
+consisted principally of listening to Tommy’s breathless
+comment on the game.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, rotten!” Tommy would snarl. “Two yards
+more!... Oh; perfectly rotten!... See that pass?
+See it? What? Eh, what?... Now, watch this!
+Watch&mdash; What’d I say? Good work, Seven!...
+Now, that’s playing!... Third down and one to&mdash;
+What’s that? Lost it? Lost nothing! Why, look
+where the ball is! How can they have lost&mdash; Hey!
+how’s that for off-side? Just watch that Robinson left
+end; look! See that?... Three yards right through
+the center! What was Burley doing?... Well, here
+goes for a touch-down. There’s no help now!...
+Another yard!... Two more!... Did they make
+it? Did they?... <em>Hi-i-i! Our ball!</em>”</p>
+
+<p>It was a very pretty game, after all, and when the
+first half ended with the score only 5 to 0, in the visitors’
+favor, Erskine’s hope revived, and during the intermission
+there was much talk of tying the score, while
+some few extremely optimistic watchers hinted at an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>
+Erskine victory. Considering the fact that the purple-clad
+team was twelve pounds lighter than its opponent,
+this was a good deal to expect, and Tommy, a fair
+example of conservative opinion, declared that the best
+he looked for was to have the second half end with the
+score as it then stood. But a good many guesses went
+wrong that afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>Erskine had played on the defensive during the first
+half, and when, after receiving Robinson’s kick-off, she
+punted the ball without trying to run it back, it seemed
+that she was continuing her former tactics. The punt
+was a good one and was caught on Robinson’s thirty-yard
+line. The Brown accepted the challenge and returned
+the kick. It went to Erskine’s forty-five yards.
+Again Poor punted, and the ball sailed down to the
+Brown’s fifteen yards, where it was gathered into a
+half-back’s arms. Erskine had gained largely in the
+two exchanges of punts, and her supporters cheered
+loudly, while Robinson, realizing discretion to be the
+better part of valor, refrained from further kicking
+and ran the ball back ten yards before she was downed.</p>
+
+<p>And then, as in the first period of play, she began
+to advance the pigskin by fierce plunges at the Erskine
+line. But now there was a perceptible difference in
+results, a difference recognized by the spectators after
+the first two attacks. Robinson wasn’t making much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>
+headway. Twice she barely made her distance; the
+third time she failed by six inches and, amidst cheering
+plainly heard on the campus, Erskine took the ball on
+her opponent’s twenty-five yards. The first plunge
+netted a bare yard, yet it carried the ball out of the
+checker-board, and a line-man dropped back. Tommy
+set up a shout.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s Burley! They’re going to play him back of
+the line!”</p>
+
+<p>There was no doubt about it’s being Burley. He
+loomed far above the rest of the backs, and even when,
+his hands on the full-back’s hips, he doubled himself
+up for the charge, he was still the biggest object on
+the field. The stands danced with delight.</p>
+
+<p>So far there had been no hint of the big right guard
+taking part in the tandem attacks; in fact, his presence
+on the team was doubtful until the last moment, for
+Burley’s development as a football player had been
+discouragingly slow, in spite of his weight and strength
+and cheerful willingness. Even yet he possessed only
+a partial understanding of the game. He did what
+he was told to do, and did it as hard as he knew how;
+that constituted the extent of his science. The stands
+composed themselves, and breathless suspense reigned.
+Poor’s shrill pipe was heard reeling off the signals, and
+then&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Then the advance began.</p>
+
+<p>Robinson had played hard every moment of the
+first thirty-five minutes, and she had played on the
+offensive. Erskine had played hard too, but her playing
+had been defensive. To attack is more tiring than
+to repel attack, and now what difference there was in
+condition was in Erskine’s favor. Her defensive tactics
+were suddenly abandoned, and from that moment
+to the final whistle she forced the fighting every instant
+of the time.</p>
+
+<p>Peter Burley was, to use Tommy’s broken, breathless
+words, “simply great.” He knew little or nothing
+about line-plunging. He didn’t do any of the things
+coaches instruct backs to do. He merely waded into
+and through the opponents, without bothering his head
+with the niceties of play. If the hole was there, well
+and good; he went through it and emerged on the other
+side with half the Robinson team clinging to him. If
+the hole wasn’t there, well and good again; he went
+through just the same, only he didn’t go so far. But
+there was always a good gain&mdash;sometimes a yard, sometimes
+two, sometimes three or four.</p>
+
+<p>When the whistle blew, Burley climbed to his feet
+and ambled back to his position, unruffled and unheeding
+of the bruises that fell to his share. Nine plunges
+brought the ball to Robinson’s five yards. There the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>
+Brown line held for an instant. The first down netted
+a bare yard, the second brought scarcely as much. The
+cheering, which had been continuous from the first
+attack, died down, and a great silence fell. Tommy
+was nibbling the corner off his note-book, and Allan,
+kneeling beside him, was nervously biting his lip.
+Poor drew Burley and the backs aside for a whispered
+consultation. Then the players took their positions
+again, and&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Presto! Erskine had scored!</p>
+
+<p>Without signals, the tandem had plunged onto the
+Robinson left tackle, Burley’s leather head-guard had
+been seen for an instant tossing high above a struggling
+mass, and then had disappeared, and chaos had reigned
+until the referee’s whistle commanded a cessation of
+hostilities. When the piled-up mass was removed,
+Burley was found serenely hugging the ball to his chest
+a yard over the line.</p>
+
+<p>While the stands cavorted and cheered, Poor kicked
+the goal. Erskine was already victorious, and Robinson’s
+youngsters seemed to realize the fact. For,
+though they fought valiantly and doggedly for twenty
+minutes longer, it was evident that they no longer
+looked for victory. With every repulse their defense
+grew perceptibly weaker, while their rivals, as though
+they had husbanded their strength until now, made each<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>
+attack fiercer than the one before, until in the last ten
+minutes of the contest they simply drove the Brown
+before them at will. Long before the game was at an
+end the stands began to empty; there was small pleasure
+in seeing a defeated enemy humbled. When the final
+whistle blew, the score stood 17 to 5, and Peter Burley,
+breathing hard through bleeding and swollen lips, said
+“he guessed he was ready to have his oats and be bedded
+down.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</a><br />
+<small>“THE RANCH”</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>It is human nature to dwell at length upon our
+successes and dismiss our failures with a word. The
+writer has given a chapter to the freshman game, but
+he is going to tell the story of the varsity contest, which
+occurred a week later, in a paragraph.</p>
+
+<p>Robinson won in a clean, hard-fought game&mdash;11
+to 0. Her rival never approached a score in either
+half, but by the grimmest sort of defensive work she
+managed to keep the final figures down to half of what
+they might have been had she gone to pieces for an
+instant. Hal played a brilliant game at full-back in
+that contest, and proved his right to the position. Thus
+the football season at Erskine ended in decisive defeat.
+It was an honorable defeat, to be sure; but, since at
+Erskine, as at other colleges in this country, they play
+more for the sake of winning than for love of the
+game, there were doleful faces a-plenty, and on Sunday
+the college had the appearance of a place smitten with
+the plague.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But Monday morning came and brought recitations
+and lectures, just as though there was no such thing
+as football, and the college settled back into the usual
+routine. At noon the sting of defeat was forgotten.
+At night, fellows were cheerfully discussing the chances
+for the next year. If we take defeat too hard, at least
+we recover quickly; there is hope for us in that.</p>
+
+<p>Allan, for all that he was quite as patriotic as any,
+felt the defeat of the varsity team less than he did the
+cessation of track work. The latter left him at first
+feeling like a fish out of water. Tommy Sweet suggested
+that he might rig up a treadmill in his room
+and run to his heart’s content, like a squirrel in a wire
+cage. But Tommy wouldn’t promise to feed him all
+the peanuts he could eat, and so Allan refused to try
+the scheme. Instead, he spent much of his time out-of-doors
+and took long walks and runs out along the
+river or struck off westward to Millport.</p>
+
+<p>On many of these excursions he was accompanied
+by Peter Burley. Peter&mdash;or more properly Pete, since
+that was the name he declared to be the proper one&mdash;Pete
+couldn’t be persuaded to do any running, but he
+was willing to walk any distance and in any direction,
+seeming to care very little whether he ever got back
+to Centerport or didn’t. And as his long legs took him
+over the ground about as fast as Allan could jog, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>
+latter never suffered for want of exercise while in Pete’s
+company.</p>
+
+<p>The friendship between the two had grown rapidly,
+until now Pete’s prophecy that they were to be “partners”
+had come true. The more Allan saw of the older
+boy the more he found to like, but just what the qualities
+were which drew him to Pete he would have found
+it hard to tell. The latter’s never-failing good-nature
+was undoubtedly one of them, but that alone was not
+accountable. Perhaps Pete would have experienced
+quite as much difficulty had he been called upon to say
+why he had been attracted by Allan the first time he
+had seen him, or why he had perseveringly sought his
+friendship ever since. The two were radically dissimilar,
+but even that isn’t sufficient to explain why each
+was attracted toward the other. Come to think of it,
+however, I don’t believe either Allan or Pete troubled
+himself about the problem, and so why should we?</p>
+
+<p>Pete’s sudden leap into fame consequent upon his
+work against Robinson in the freshman game had left
+him unaffected. He had become a college hero in an
+hour, but none could see that it ever made any difference
+to him. He brushed congratulation aside good-naturedly
+and ridiculed praise.</p>
+
+<p>“Stop your fool talk!” he would say. “I didn’t
+rope any steers. It was that little jack-rabbit, Poor,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>
+that whooped things up and won the game. I didn’t
+do a thing but shove ’em round some.” And when it
+was hinted that the shoving around was what brought
+victory, “Get out!” he would growl. “Science is what
+does the business, and I don’t know the first thing about
+the game.”</p>
+
+<p>And so, while Peter was worshiped by the freshman
+class and very generally respected by the others,
+he wasn’t at all the popular conception of a college hero.
+And there were three fellows, at least, who liked him
+all the better for it.</p>
+
+<p>Those three were Allan, Tommy, and Hal. Since
+that first meeting in Allan’s room, the four had been
+much together. Tommy showed up at the gatherings
+less frequently than any one of the others, for Tommy,
+in his own words, “had a lot of mighty difficult stunts
+to do.”</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes the quartet met in Allan’s room, sometimes
+in Hal’s, less frequently in Tommy’s&mdash;for Tommy
+lived up two flights of stairs in McLean Hall, and
+Pete had a horror of climbing stairs. The only climbing
+he liked, he said, was climbing into a saddle. That
+was why he often found fault with his own apartments.</p>
+
+<p>These were on the second floor of a plain clap-boarded
+building at the corner of Town Lane and
+Center Street, with the railroad but a few hundred<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>
+feet distant and the fire-house next door. Pete declared
+he liked the noise, and could never study so well
+as when the switch-engine was shunting cars to and
+fro at the end of the lane or the fire-bell was clanging
+an infrequent alarm. As few ever saw him studying,
+the statement sounded plausible.</p>
+
+<p>The ground floor of the building was occupied by a
+dealer in harness and leather; the third floor consisted
+of an empty loft. Across the lane&mdash;and the lane wasn’t
+wide enough to boast of&mdash;was a livery stable. On the
+opposite corner was a carriage repair-shop and warehouse.
+A few doors below was a wheelwright’s. The
+upper floors of the neighboring structures were occupied
+by carpenters, plumbers, roofers, and masons.</p>
+
+<p>Through Pete’s windows, which were invariably
+open, be the weather what it might, floated in a strange
+and penetrating aroma&mdash;a mingled bouquet of coal-smoke
+from the railroad, of the odor of pine-shavings
+from the carpenter shops, of the pungent smell of
+leather from below, and of the fragrance from the stable
+across the street. Pete said it was healthful and satisfying.
+None disputed the latter quality. Pete’s rooms&mdash;there
+were two of them&mdash;were quite as unique as
+his surroundings.</p>
+
+<p>Picture a bare, plank-ceiled loft, some forty feet
+long by twenty feet broad, divided in the exact center<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>
+by a partition of half-inch matched boards and lighted
+by five windows. Imagine the walls and ceiling painted
+a pea-green, mentally hang two big oil-lamps&mdash;one in
+the middle of each room&mdash;from the latter, and spread
+half a dozen skins&mdash;bear, coyote, antelope, and cougar&mdash;over
+the discolored floor, and you have Pete’s apartments.
+There was a door in the partition, but as it
+wouldn’t close, owing to inequalities in the casing, it
+was always open.</p>
+
+<p>The furniture, of which there was very little, represented
+Centerport’s best: there was a “golden-oak”
+bureau, a “Flemish-oak” easy chair, a “Chippendale”
+card-table&mdash;I am employing the dealer’s language&mdash;an
+iron bedstead, a “mahogany” study table, a sprinkling
+of brightly upholstered, straight-backed chairs, and a
+few other pieces, equally highly polished and equally
+disturbing to the esthetic eye.</p>
+
+<p>The walls were almost, but not quite, bare. Pete
+didn’t care for pictures, but on nails driven at haphazard
+hung a silver-mounted bridle, a rawhide lariat,
+a villainous-looking pair of Mexican wheel-spurs, a
+leather-banded sombrero, a cartridge-belt and holster,
+the latter holding a revolver, a leather quirt, and an
+Indian war-drum, while over the bedstead in the back
+room the head of a grizzly bear perpetually resented
+intrusion with snarling lips. The head of a mountain-sheep<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>
+held a place of honor in the other apartment, and
+underneath it hung a Navajo Indian blanket, almost
+worth its weight in gold.</p>
+
+<p>There were only two objects that might have been
+set down in an inventory as pictures: one was an advertising
+calendar and the other a photograph of Pete’s
+mother, who had died soon after Pete’s advent in the
+world. The photograph shared the top of the dazzling
+yellow bureau with Pete’s brushes and shaving utensils.</p>
+
+<p>In a corner of the front room was a trunk, covered
+with a yellow and red saddle-blanket. Against it leaned
+two guns&mdash;a battered Winchester carbine and a handsome
+two-barreled 12-gauge shot-gun. In another corner,
+as though thrown there the moment before, lay a
+brown leather stock saddle, with big hooded stirrups.
+The card-table held Pete’s smoking things&mdash;two corn-cob
+pipes, a small sack of granulated tobacco, and an
+ash-tray. The tobacco usually distributed itself over
+the table and the ashes always blew onto the floor.</p>
+
+<p>In bright weather, the sunlight streamed in through
+three of the five windows and crossed the rooms in
+golden shafts, wherein the dust atoms danced and
+swirled. With the sunlight came the sounds of the
+neighborhood&mdash;the clang of the blacksmith’s sledge
+against the anvil, the screech of the carpenter’s plane,
+the steady <em>tap</em>, <em>tap</em>, <em>tap</em> of the harness-maker’s hammer,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>
+the stamping of horses’ hoofs, the clamor of passing
+trains, and the chatter of the loiterers below the windows.
+Pete called the front room the “corral,” the
+rear room the “stable,” the whole the “Ranch.”</p>
+
+<p>If I have risked tiring the reader with too long a
+description of Pete’s dwelling-place, it is because, in
+spite of their strange furnishings and hideous green
+walls, the rooms were far more homelike than many a
+smart suite in Grace Hall, and, to quote Tommy again,
+were “Pete through and through.” Further, while
+Allan’s, Hal’s, and Tommy’s rooms sometimes served
+as meeting-places for the four, the chambers over the
+harness-shop were their favorite resort. There was an
+undeniable charm about them; and if you could prevail
+upon Pete to close a few of the windows in cold
+weather, and if you didn’t mind sitting upon the
+tables and the trunk, you could be very comfy at the
+Ranch.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</a><br />
+<small>PETE’S CLUB TABLE</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>On the Monday night succeeding the Robinson game
+the quartet was assembled in Pete’s study. Allan had
+the easy chair, Hal and Tommy shared the big table,
+and Pete sat on the trunk. The windows were closed,
+for the night was cold, and the big hanging lamp diffused
+light, warmth, and a strong odor of kerosene
+through the apartment. This odor Pete was heroically
+striving to mitigate with the fumes of a cob pipe. Hal
+had tried the other pipe, but had soon given it up,
+avowing discontentedly that Pete ought to keep some
+real tobacco on hand for guests who weren’t used to
+chopped hay. The bell in College Hall had just struck
+nine, and Tommy, for the fourth time, had slid from
+the table, pleading press of business, and had been
+pulled back by Hal.</p>
+
+<p>“Forget your old business, Tommy,” said Hal.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t let him sneak,” said Pete. “We’re going
+to open a can of corn in a minute.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s all very well,” Tommy protested, “but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>
+I’ve got things to do. You lazy chaps, who never
+study&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>Dismal groans from the opposition.</p>
+
+<p>“Can afford to loaf; but I want to tell you&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course you do, Tommy,” Allan interrupted,
+soothingly, “but we don’t want you to. Be calm,
+precious youth; the Purp” (college slang for the
+Purple) “will come out just the same, whether you
+continue to adorn that desk for another ten minutes
+or not.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why don’t you fellows let a couple of weeks go
+by without putting out a paper?” asked Pete. “No
+one would notice it, and think what a high old time
+you could all have being useful for once.”</p>
+
+<p>“Wish we could,” sighed Tommy.</p>
+
+<p>“Tommy, you’re a wicked liar!” said Hal. “You
+don’t wish anything of the sort. If you missed an
+issue of that old sheet, you’d commit suicide in some
+awful manner; maybe you’d come down here and die
+of smells.”</p>
+
+<p>“If you’d only put something in it,” said Pete,
+“something a fellow could read and enjoy&mdash;a murder
+now and then, or a lynching. Couldn’t you run a story
+with lots of blood? It’s such a dismal paper, Tommy.”</p>
+
+<p>“You fellows might jump into the river,” suggested
+Tommy, scathingly. “We’d print your obits.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Our which?” Hal asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Obits&mdash;obituaries,” he explained in a superior
+manner.</p>
+
+<p>“Would you put ’em on the fir?” asked Peter.</p>
+
+<p>“On the fir? What’s the fir?”</p>
+
+<p>“Fir&mdash;first page.” Pete mimicked Tommy’s tone.</p>
+
+<p>“No,” said Tommy, when the laughter had stopped,
+“not important enough.”</p>
+
+<p>“Crushed and lifeless!” murmured Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Tommy,” asked Pete, severely, “do you mean
+that I’m not enough of a heavy-weight to be dishonored
+by having my name on the front page of that old up-country
+weekly of yours?”</p>
+
+<p>“The front page is for important news,” said
+Tommy, with a wicked smile.</p>
+
+<p>“Such as measles in the grammar school and the
+election of Greaves as president of the Chess Club,”
+explained Hal.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, I’ll tell you what I’ll do with you, Thomas,”
+said Pete. “I’ll bet you anything from an old hat to
+a quarter section of land that I can get my name and
+a half a column of talkee-talkee on the first page of
+the Erskine Purple any time I want to. Now, what
+say, Thomas?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll bet you can’t,” laughed the other.</p>
+
+<p>“What’ll you bet? Money talks, my son.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Oh, most anything. If you want your name on
+the front page of the Purple, you’ll have to do some
+tall stunts.”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course, that’s what I mean: kill the Dean, or
+blow up College Hall, or have a fit in chapel.”</p>
+
+<p>“Or subscribe for the paper,” added Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Come, Tommy, speak up. What will you bet?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, get out, you wild Indian! I’m going home.”</p>
+
+<p>He made another effort to tear himself away.</p>
+
+<p>“Tommy, you’re a coyote: you’re skeered an’
+afeared. You know I’d win.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, no, I’m not,” said Tommy. “I’ll bet a dinner
+for the four of us at the Elm Tree that you can’t get
+your name on the front page while I’m on the paper&mdash;
+Hold on, though; I won’t bet that. I’ll bet you won’t
+get it there this year unless it’s merely the name, as a
+member of a society, or as having attended a meeting,
+or something like that, you know.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thomas, you’re hedging,” said Pete, “but I’ll
+take your bet. And just my name isn’t to count; nothing
+less than a full paragraph to myself goes. You
+fellows are witnesses.”</p>
+
+<p>“We are,” said Allan. “I smell that dinner already.”</p>
+
+<p>“And you see Pete paying the bill,” said Tommy.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know who pays, and I don’t care.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“He cares not who pays for his dinner, so long as
+he may eat it,” said Hal. “Wise child, Allan. And,
+by the way, talking of eating reminds me. You know
+Billy Greb, Allan?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m going home,” said Tommy.</p>
+
+<p>“(Shut up and sit down, Tommy!) Billy’s getting
+up a freshman club table and wants you and me to
+join. What do you say?”</p>
+
+<p>“Where’s it going to be?”</p>
+
+<p>“Pearson’s.”</p>
+
+<p>“How much?”</p>
+
+<p>“Six a week.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s pretty steep, Hal. Besides, I may go to
+the track-team table in the spring.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m going home, you fellows,” announced Tommy
+again.</p>
+
+<p>“Will you please shut up?” asked Hal. “Well,
+you’d better join until then, Allan; sufficient to the
+spring is the evil thereof.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I’ll think it over and let you know in a
+day or two. When does Greb want to start it?”</p>
+
+<p>“First of the month. If you weren’t a foolish
+little sophomore, Tommy, you could come in too.”</p>
+
+<p>“Huh!” answered Tommy, scathingly. “I’ve
+seen all I want of freshman club tables. I’m going&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“How about me, Hal?” asked Pete. “I’d like to
+join, if your friend will have me.”</p>
+
+<p>Hal hesitated for an instant.</p>
+
+<p>“Why&mdash;er&mdash;I’ll speak to him about it. But I think
+he’s got his number made up.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s all right,” answered Pete, quietly.</p>
+
+<p>“But I’ll do my best,” said Hal, hurriedly and
+awkwardly. “Maybe&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Call it off!” said Pete, with a cavernous yawn.</p>
+
+<p>“If it was my table&mdash;” continued Hal, anxious not
+to hurt the other’s feelings.</p>
+
+<p>“I know. <em>That’s</em> all right. I can stand it.”</p>
+
+<p>There was the sound of a gently closing door.</p>
+
+<p>“Hello!” Pete exclaimed. “Where’s Tommy?”</p>
+
+<p>The three glanced in surprise around the room.
+Then&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>“I think,” said Allan, dryly, “I <em>think</em> I heard him
+say something about going home.”</p>
+
+<p>The next afternoon Pete found Allan at the gymnasium,
+and walked back to Mrs. Purdy’s with him.
+He was so quiet that Allan was certain he had something
+on his mind. What that something was transpired
+when they had reached Allan’s room.</p>
+
+<p>“What sort of a cayuse&mdash;meaning gentleman&mdash;is
+this fellow Greb?” asked Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know him very well,” Allan replied, “but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>
+I fancy he thinks himself a bit of a swell. He’s a
+Dunlap Hall fellow, and of course you know what that
+means.”</p>
+
+<p>“Never heard tell of it,” said Pete. “What is it&mdash;a
+preparatory school?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, it’s&mdash; Oh, it’s all right, of course, only
+we used to make a good deal of fun of it at Hillton.
+You go there when you’re nine or ten, and they give
+you a sort of a governess to look after you until you
+get old enough to make her life a burden; then they
+put you in another house. They’re terribly English,
+you know; have forms and fagging; and when you
+want a row with a chap, you have to notify the captain
+of your form, and it’s all arranged for you like a regular
+duel, and you go out back of one of the buildings,
+and somebody holds your coat for you and somebody
+else mops your face with a sponge, and you try and hit
+the other fellow in the eye. It’s like a second edition of
+Tom Brown. Think of getting mad with a chap in the
+morning and having to wait until afternoon to whack
+him! There’s no fun in that. You’d like as not want
+to beg his pardon and buy him a ‘Sunday’! But they
+think they’re a pretty elegant lot, just the same.”</p>
+
+<p>“Think of that!” sighed Pete. “And I might
+have gone there, if I’d known, and had a nurse and
+all the scrapping I wanted. So this fellow Greb thinks<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>
+he’s the whole thing, does he? Guess that’s the reason
+Hal was hunting a hole when I asked myself to join.
+I didn’t know you were so mighty choice about who
+you ate with. Out there we ask whoever comes along.
+I guess you fellows thought I was loco, didn’t
+you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Thought you were what?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, crazy, inviting myself like that.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nonsense, Pete; we all understood. There was
+no harm done. It’s just that Greb wants to get up a
+table of fellows he knows.”</p>
+
+<p>“Does he know you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why&mdash;er&mdash;I’ve met him, of course.”</p>
+
+<p>“And he could have met me if he’d wanted to,
+couldn’t he?”</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose he could, but he doesn’t know about
+you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Wouldn’t care to, I guess.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, nonsense, Pete; you’re making a lot out of
+nothing.”</p>
+
+<p>“Dare say he thinks I eat in my shirt-sleeves and
+swallow my knife,” continued Pete, gloomily. “Maybe
+he thinks I live on horned toads and grasshoppers.”</p>
+
+<p>“But, I tell you, he doesn’t know you.”</p>
+
+<p>“I guess he’s heard of me,” answered Pete.
+“Guess he knew you and Hal and I were traveling
+together.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Look here, Pete; if you want to join a club
+table&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, <em>that’s</em> all right. Moocha wano club table.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, all right,” answered Allan, a bit puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m going to join a club table on the 1st,” said
+Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh!” said Allan, again. “What&mdash;that is, whose
+is it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Pete Burley’s.”</p>
+
+<p>“What! How&mdash;how do you mean?”</p>
+
+<p>“Mean I’m going to run my own grub-wagon. And
+I want you to join.”</p>
+
+<p>“But&mdash; Look here, Pete, I don’t believe you can
+find a decent place to take you. Everything’s full up
+already.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where is there a decent place?” asked Pete,
+calmly.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, there’s Pearson’s, of course, but you
+couldn’t get in there. And&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Why couldn’t I?”</p>
+
+<p>“Because she takes training tables chiefly, and is
+pretty particular, anyhow.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, that’s what she told me,” said Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“Then you went there?”</p>
+
+<p>Pete nodded.</p>
+
+<p>“I could have told you you wouldn’t get in there.
+There’s a pretty good place further along&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Oh, <em>that’s</em> all right. We start on the 1st.”</p>
+
+<p>“Start where?”</p>
+
+<p>“Mrs. Pearson’s.”</p>
+
+<p>“Pete, you’re lying!” gasped Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“No, straight talk. I engaged the front corner
+room on the second floor. It’s a right nice-looking
+place: paper on the walls, fireplace, lounge, window-seat&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“But&mdash;but how’d you do it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, <em>that’s</em> all right. We had a little pow-wow.
+It’s going to be six a week and no extras.”</p>
+
+<p>“You crazy Westerner!” said Allan, in bewildered
+admiration. Then, “But you haven’t got any one to
+join, have you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not yet; but <em>that’ll</em> be all right. It’s going to
+be select, you know; eight in all. There’ll be you and
+me, that’s two; and Hal&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t believe he’ll come,” said Allan, doubtfully.
+“You see, Pete, he’s promised Greb.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t guess Greb will have a table,” said Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“Why not?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, where’s he going to put it?”</p>
+
+<p>Allan stared. Then&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>“Do you mean that you’ve got Greb’s room?” he
+exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>“’Twa’n’t his,” answered Pete, coolly. “He hadn’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>
+settled the matter, and so I said I’d take it and put
+down a forfeit. And there isn’t another decent place
+for a high-toned, pedigreed chap like him to go to.”</p>
+
+<p>“Pete Burley, you’re a wonder!” breathed Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Think Hal will join?” asked Pete, unmoved by
+the tribute. Allan nodded silently.</p>
+
+<p>“That’ll make three, then. Now, of course, I know
+lots of fellows who would come in if I asked ’em, but,
+as I just said, this thing is going to be select; it’s
+going to be the selectest table in town. So you tell
+me who are the top of the bunch in our class, and I’ll
+go and fetch ’em in if I have to rope ’em and hog-tie
+’em.” Pete took out a pencil and began to write on
+the back of an envelope.</p>
+
+<p>“Of course, it’s all poppycock,” said Allan, “but&mdash;well,
+there’s What’s-his-name, the class president,
+and Maitland, and Poor&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Whoo-ee! I’m glad you thought of Poor.”</p>
+
+<p>“And Armstrong&mdash;only he lives at home, I think&mdash;and
+Mays, and Wolcott, and&mdash;and Cooper&mdash;Cooper
+of St. Eustace, I mean; the other chap’s an awful
+duffer&mdash;and Van Sciver&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Whoa, Bill! That’s eight&mdash;eleven, counting us
+three; guess I can get enough out of the list. Besides,
+I must ask Greb; mustn’t slight Greb.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re not going to ask him?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Ain’t I? Just you keep your eyes peeled and
+you’ll see.” He got up and carefully put the list in
+the big yellow leather wallet he carried. “Guess I’ll
+see a few of ’em this afternoon. Want to come along?”</p>
+
+<p>Allan shook his head vigorously.</p>
+
+<p>“Not me, Pete. I don’t want to have to testify
+against you before the faculty. How do I know what
+you’ll do to those chaps to make them join?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, say, Allan!” Pete turned at the gate. “Remember
+those ducks we saw on the river last week?
+Well, let’s go after ’em Thursday morning, will you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Shooting, you mean? I haven’t a gun.”</p>
+
+<p>“You take my shot-gun and I’ll use the rifle. I’ve
+shot ducks with a rifle before this.”</p>
+
+<p>“All right, Pete, but like as not the silly ducks
+won’t be there Thursday.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, we’ll find something to shoot, all right, if
+it’s just squirrels. We’ll have nothing to do Thursday,
+and can stay as long as we like; make a day of it.
+Maybe we can find some place to have dinner and
+won’t have to come back here. I’m getting mighty
+tired of commons, Allan. Well, it’ll be considerable
+different when we get the table started, won’t it?”</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose so,” answered Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Say, do you think Hal or Tommy would go
+along?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Ducking? Tommy might, but Hal’s going to sign
+off and go home over Saturday.”</p>
+
+<p>“Lucky chap!” sighed Pete. “Wish I was.” He
+looked thoughtfully across the leaf-strewn college yard.
+“Suppose I could, but&mdash;guess the old man would raise
+Cain. Allan!”</p>
+
+<p>“Yep?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’d give a hundred dollars for sight of a mountain.
+Well, I must jog along.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</a><br />
+<small>THE DUCK HUNT</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>Thanksgiving Day dawned cloudy and still, with
+a hint of snow in the air. Allan slept late, in enjoyment
+of holiday privileges, and Pete was banging at
+his front window before he had finished dressing.</p>
+
+<p>They reached Brown Hall a bare two minutes before
+the doors closed, and hurried through a light breakfast.
+Ten o’clock found them walking briskly along
+the Morrisville road, some four miles from college, having
+crossed the river by the county bridge and turned
+to the left through the little town of Kirkplain, which
+is opposite Centerport. Allan wore a white sweater,
+over which he had pulled an old coat; the pockets of
+the latter were bulging with shells. Pete wore a canvas
+hunting-coat and carried his cartridges in a belt.
+The Winchester was slung over his shoulder, and altogether
+he made a formidable appearance. Allan had
+the shot-gun. Tommy had refused to accompany them,
+pleading, as ever, a press of business; Hal had taken
+himself off to the bosom of his family.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>So far they had seen nothing to shoot at save a
+red squirrel. Allan had impulsively sought to bring
+that down, but had failed for the excellent reason that
+he had forgotten to load. The squirrel had seemed to
+appreciate the humor of the incident and had chattered
+in their faces from the bough of a dead maple-tree.
+Allan had been glad afterward that the gun hadn’t
+gone off.</p>
+
+<p>The blunder reminded Pete of a parallel case in
+his own experience, and he had told it so well that
+Allan had been forced to sit on a rock in order to
+recover from his fit of laughter. This story led to
+others. Pete proved a perfect mine of interesting
+narratives on hunting adventure, some of them
+laughable, some of them so exciting that Allan forgot
+how heavy the shot-gun under his arm had
+become.</p>
+
+<p>When they struck the cross-roads, some three miles
+from Kirkplain, they were in the best of spirits. They
+took the road to the left, which leads down to the river
+and the ferry to Harwich. At the ferry they left
+beaten tracks and followed the river-bank.</p>
+
+<p>The travel was slower now, both because they had
+to break their way through underbrush, make detours
+around inlets, cross brooks, and climb an occasional
+fence, and because they were keeping their eyes open<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>
+for game. Allan had never done much hunting, and
+he was becoming quite excited at the prospect.</p>
+
+<p>Pete led the way, forcing his big body through the
+bushes with scarce a sound, while Allan could make
+no progress without causing enough disturbance to
+frighten any self-respecting duck a mile distant. Pete
+seemed to realize this fact, for he frequently looked
+back at Allan with pursed lips and violent shakes of
+his head, and then glanced anxiously at the river.
+After a half mile of this, Pete stopped in a little clearing
+and leaned his rifle against a bush. Allan joined
+him, very much out of breath.</p>
+
+<p>“See anything?” he panted, hoarsely. Pete shook
+his head.</p>
+
+<p>A few yards away lay the river, sluggish and leaden
+under gray sky. At their backs the ground rose gently,
+and the reeds and bushes gave place to a thick growth
+of trees. A few rods further up-stream was a little
+promontory. Everything was very still save for the
+chirp of the birds in the woods and the infrequent
+screech of a locomotive-whistle from toward Centerport.
+Across the river and further down-stream the
+little hamlet of Harwich nestled under its leafless elms.
+Pete sat down and drew forth his corn-cob pipe.</p>
+
+<p>“Might as well take a rest,” he said. “Smoke?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, thanks.” Allan didn’t possess a pipe of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>
+own, and wouldn’t have attempted Pete’s for a ten-dollar
+bill; the very smell of it frequently made him
+faint. Pete stuffed the blackened bowl full of dry
+tobacco and lighted it. Then he leaned back on one
+elbow and puffed contentedly for a moment. Allan
+nibbled the end of a grass-blade and stared across the
+empty stream.</p>
+
+<p>“This is about the place where we saw those birds
+the other day,” said Pete, finally. “Guess they’ve
+pulled their freight. Sorry!”</p>
+
+<p>“What’s the diff?” asked Allan. “We’ve had the
+walk. Besides, maybe we’ll find a gray squirrel if we
+go back through the woods.”</p>
+
+<p>“Anyhow, I don’t guess there’s any use going farther
+up the river. What time is it, I wonder? Did
+you bring your watch?”</p>
+
+<p>“Quarter of twelve,” said Allan. “Getting
+hungry?”</p>
+
+<p>“I could eat a saddle!” answered Pete. “Supposing
+we go back and take the ferry over to Harwich?
+Is there any place there we could get a feed?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know, but I should think there ought to
+be. Got any money?”</p>
+
+<p>Pete sat up suddenly and searched his pockets.</p>
+
+<p>“Not a red!” he exclaimed. “I forgot to change.”</p>
+
+<p>“Same here,” said Allan, dolefully. Pete picked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>
+his pipe up from where it had fallen and relighted it.
+Then he threw himself onto his back, put one leg over
+the other knee, and chuckled.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t think it’s so terribly funny,” said Allan,
+aggrievedly. “We can’t get home until three or four
+o’clock. Wish we’d had sense enough to bring lunch
+with us.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; a half dozen sandwiches and a piece of pie
+wouldn’t go so bad, would they? Nice thick sandwiches,
+with ham or beef inside, and lots of butter
+and mustard. And&mdash;what kind of pie do you like
+best, Allan?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, shut up, you!”</p>
+
+<p>“I like pumpkin&mdash;or, maybe, apple. Yes, apple’s
+pretty hard to beat. We’ll have apple; about three
+pieces each.”</p>
+
+<p>Allan groaned and threw a handful of dried grass
+into Pete’s face. Pete brushed it aside and went on:</p>
+
+<p>“When we get the table going, we’ll get Mother
+Pearson to give us apple-pie every night.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, when you do!” growled Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, <em>that’s</em> all right, my son. Just because the
+only fellow I’ve found wouldn’t join, you needn’t think
+that table isn’t going to be. Hal’s going to introduce
+me to Maitland and Van Something&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Van Sciver.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“If you say so. And Cooper; and I’ll bet you a
+bunch of cows I get that table filled up inside of a
+week. Want to bet?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t bet,” said Allan, aggravatingly. “Besides,
+if I were you, I’d go slow on betting until I’d
+paid for that dinner.”</p>
+
+<p>“What dinner?”</p>
+
+<p>“The one you wagered with Tommy.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ginger! I’d clean forgotten that. But <em>that’ll</em>
+be all right.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll lose.”</p>
+
+<p>“Lose nothing! Just you hold your horses and
+keep your eye on your Uncle Pete. Let’s think what
+we’ll make Tommy order for us at that feed.”</p>
+
+<p>“Let’s go home and get something to eat,” said
+Allan, irritably.</p>
+
+<p>“Home? Not a bit of it! We’ll find a house and
+beg a Thanksgiving dinner, that’s what we’ll do. Saddle
+up and let’s mosey along.” He dropped his pipe
+into his pocket and got to his feet. “There’s bound
+to be a house somewhere’s about; look at how the woods
+have been cleared out here. Shouldn’t wonder if we
+found eight courses and a Hinglish butler.”</p>
+
+<p>“One course’ll do me,” groaned Allan, as he got
+up, “and I don’t care how coarse it is.”</p>
+
+<p>“We shot a man out in our county for making<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>
+a joke like that, and he was a heap homelier than you&mdash;
+<em>Listen!</em>”</p>
+
+<p>Allan listened. From beyond the little promontory
+came the unmistakable quack of a duck. Pete pumped
+a cartridge into the barrel of his carbine and tiptoed
+toward the shore. Allan seized his shot-gun, fell over
+a stone, and followed. Pete waved him back, and then
+returned.</p>
+
+<p>“They’re around that point. We’ve got to go
+mighty quiet; if we don’t, they’ll fly. Keep low
+until you get to the pebbles there, and then get down
+and crawl. Come on!”</p>
+
+<p>Allan followed, watching each footstep and trying
+not to breathe. A clump of trees came down almost
+to the water at the point, and hid what was beyond.
+But when Allan had, by painfully wriggling his body,
+stomach to earth, reached the little expanse of pebbled
+shore and Pete’s side, his heart leaped for joy. Before
+them was a little cove, and in it, peacefully moving
+about its surface, was a flock of ducks. How many
+there were, he couldn’t tell; there seemed dozens at
+first. He threw his gun to his shoulder and squinted
+along the barrel.</p>
+
+<p>“Hold on!” whispered Pete. “We’ll have to
+scare ’em up somehow.”</p>
+
+<p>“What for?” Allan whispered, anxiously.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“You don’t shoot ducks in the water, you idiot!”
+answered Pete. “Here, I’ll raise ’em with this stone.
+Be ready and take ’em as they rise. Wait till you
+get two together, but shoot quick, and let ’em have
+both barrels.”</p>
+
+<p>He dug a small stone out of the sand and aiming
+at the middle of the flock, let drive. There was a
+sensation among the ducks, but not the panic Pete
+had looked for. They swam away from the spot where
+the stone sank, and made a good deal of fuss, but not
+a duck took wing. Pete grunted and threw another
+rock. The result was the same. The ducks discussed
+the matter volubly among themselves and swam around
+in circles, but they didn’t show any intention of flying
+away. Pete was disgusted.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m going to knock that old drake’s head off,” he
+whispered. “I guess that’ll bring ’em up. All ready?”</p>
+
+<p>Allan nodded, clutching his gun desperately and
+still squinting along the barrels. There was a loud
+report, then another, and a third. Two ducks floated
+quietly on the water. The others, with wild quacks
+of dismay, paddled to shore and disappeared into the
+bushes.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, of all crazy ducks!” ejaculated Pete, staring
+after them.</p>
+
+<p>“They&mdash;they didn’t fly!” said Allan, breathlessly.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Fly! Why, the things are clean locoed! They’re
+not ducks, they’re&mdash;they’re&mdash;<em>I</em> don’t know what they
+are!”</p>
+
+<p>Pete stared about him in bewilderment.</p>
+
+<p>“They didn’t fly, and so I shot,” Allan explained.</p>
+
+<p>“And we only got two!” said Pete, disgustedly.</p>
+
+<p>“But they went up there,” said Allan. “Why
+can’t we go after them?”</p>
+
+<p>“And shoot ’em on land?” Pete shook his head
+slowly. “Allan, I’ve done fool things in my time, but
+I never shot ducks on land.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t see what difference it makes,” objected
+Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Maybe not; maybe you’re used to crazy ducks.
+I’m not. I refuse to have further dealings with such&mdash;such
+freaks of nature. How we going to get those?”
+he asked, nodding at the dead birds.</p>
+
+<p>“We ought to have brought a dog.”</p>
+
+<p>“Or a rowboat. Well, here goes!” He sat down
+and took off his shoes and stockings. Then, with his
+trousers rolled up as far as they would go, he waded
+out into the water. Allan sat down on the bank and
+promised to rescue him if he went over his depth. Pete
+reached the first bird&mdash;it was the drake he had shot,
+and it lacked a head&mdash;and held it up. He studied it
+a moment, shaking his head slowly.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“What’s the matter?” called Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, nothing; nothing at all. Only I never saw
+a duck like this before in my life!”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, what’s the matter with&mdash;” began Allan.
+Then the words stopped and he jumped to his feet.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#image03">“Sorry you don’t approve of them,”</a> said a voice
+behind him, “but they’re the best I’ve got!”</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 383px;">
+<a name="image03" id="image03">
+  <img src="images/image03.jpg" width="383" height="600"
+       alt="“Sorry you don’t approve of them.”"
+       title="“Sorry you don’t approve of them.”" />
+</a><br />
+<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_95">“Sorry you don’t approve of them.”</a></div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</a><br />
+<small>DINNER FOR TWO</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>The regret, politely expressed though it was, had
+the effect of a thunderbolt on both Allan and Pete,
+neither of whom had heard or seen anything to suggest
+the presence of a third person on the scene. Allan’s
+surprise was ludicrous enough, but the picture presented
+by Pete&mdash;mouth and eyes wide open and the
+headless duck held stiffly at arm’s length, his whole
+attitude suggesting that the icy water in which he stood
+had suddenly frozen him stiff&mdash;caused even the newcomer
+to smile a little under his mustache.</p>
+
+<p>The latter was a rather stout gentleman, of middle
+age, with ruddy cheeks, piercing dark eyes, and an
+expression of extreme self-possession. He wore a suit
+of rough gray tweed and leather leggings and carried
+a shot-gun. At his side, exhibiting two rows of very
+white teeth, stood a red and white setter. Allan liked
+neither the gun nor the dog, and envied Pete his chilly,
+but more distant, position. The newcomer glanced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>
+silently from Allan to Pete. It was the latter who
+found his voice first.</p>
+
+<p>“Those your ducks?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>The man nodded. Pete looked again at the drake
+in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh!” he said.</p>
+
+<p>The dog growled and Allan observed that the man’s
+gun was cocked and that it was held in a position that
+was far from reassuring. Pete regarded the man with
+a puzzled expression.</p>
+
+<p>“Look here, partner,” he asked, “are those <em>tame</em>
+ducks?”</p>
+
+<p>“They are, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>Pete’s face cleared; a grin overspread his features,
+and he chuckled aloud as he waded back to shore.</p>
+
+<p>“You seem amused?” said the man, politely but
+with a note of interrogation.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I’m mighty relieved, as the broncho said
+when he bucked the man off. You see, I thought they
+were wild ducks, and when they wouldn’t fly, I was
+afraid they were degenerating. Of course, as they
+were tame ducks, it’s all right.” Pete waded out of
+the water and the setter laid back his ears and growled
+suspiciously. “Hello, dog!” said Pete, as he went
+toward where he had deposited his shoes, stockings, and
+rifle.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Just stay where you are, please!” said the man.
+He waved toward Pete’s possessions. The dog trotted
+over to them and stood guard, watching their owner
+intently. Pete’s grin broadened. He tossed down the
+duck he had rescued.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s another out there,” he said. “Guess the
+dog could get it, couldn’t he?”</p>
+
+<p>“Where do you gentlemen belong?” asked the man.
+The gentlemen exchanged glances. Then&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>“Centerport,” answered Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Students?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“Humph!” said the owner of the ducks. “Want
+me to believe you thought my ducks were wild ones,
+do you?”</p>
+
+<p>“You don’t suppose we’d walk six miles to shoot
+tame ones, do you?” asked Pete, scathingly. The man
+shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose you’re ready to pay for the pair you’ve
+shot?”</p>
+
+<p>“Glad to,” answered Pete. “How much?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I guess a dollar will do. They were both
+Pekins.”</p>
+
+<p>“Can’t say I’ve had a dollar’s worth of sport,” said
+Pete, “but here’s your money.” He put a hand into
+his trouser pocket. Then he stopped short and looked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>
+with dismay at Allan. The owner of the ducks waited
+silently.</p>
+
+<p>“Guess you’ll have to trust us, partner,” said Pete.
+“We both came away without any money.” Allan,
+fearing arrest would follow this announcement, held his
+breath. But the man only smiled courteously.</p>
+
+<p>“Very well,” he answered. “There is no hurry.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thanks!” said Pete. He looked inquiringly
+toward the dog. “How about my shoes and stockings?
+It’s a bit chilly.”</p>
+
+<p>“I fancy your walk back will warm you up,” said
+the man. Pete whistled.</p>
+
+<p>“Going to keep ’em for security, eh?” he asked.
+The other nodded gravely.</p>
+
+<p>“Couldn’t compromise, I suppose?” Pete insinuated.
+“That carbine’s worth a good bit more’n a dollar.
+It’s hard walking without any shoes.”</p>
+
+<p>“I dare say,” was the reply. “But maybe if you
+stub your toe a few times, it’ll remind you to find out
+whether a duck is domestic or wild before you shoot it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Look here, Mr. Whatever-your-name-is,” said
+Allan, explosively, “you’ll get your old dollar. We’re
+not thieves. But you’ve got to let him have his shoes
+and stockings.”</p>
+
+<p>“If I don’t?” asked the man, with a flicker of
+appreciation in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Why&mdash;we’ll just take them, that’s all.”</p>
+
+<p>“I wonder if you could do it?” said the other,
+measuring the two with his eyes. “I almost believe
+you could.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, then&mdash;” began Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“But of course you’d get damaged in the process,”
+continued the other, cheerfully. “Now, look here;
+you’ve killed my ducks, and it’s only right that you
+should pay for them. Isn’t that so?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; but if we have no money&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s it,” was the answer. “It doesn’t seem
+probable that you two students would come six miles
+from college without any money. Where are you going
+to get your dinner?”</p>
+
+<p>“There isn’t going to be any dinner,” said Pete.
+“You can believe us or not, just as you like, and be
+hanged to you! If you’ll put down your gun, I’ll
+lick you.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s an honest offer,” said the man, smiling
+outright for the first time, “but it isn’t just practical.
+I rather think you could do it, and I don’t see why I
+should be licked merely because you have killed my
+ducks. Do you?”</p>
+
+<p>“I guess that’s so, partner,” Pete answered. “But
+something’s got to be done. I can’t walk home without
+any shoes.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The man received this assertion in silence, glancing
+thoughtfully from Pete to the articles in discussion.
+The dog looked suspiciously from Pete to Allan. Allan
+scowled at the dog’s master. The latter spoke:</p>
+
+<p>“Here, Jack!”</p>
+
+<p>Jack went to him unwillingly. Pete picked up his
+shoes and stockings.</p>
+
+<p>“Thanks!” he said. Then he put them on. The
+man watched him smilingly. When the last lace was
+tied, Pete got up.</p>
+
+<p>“My name’s Burley,” he said. “I’ll come over
+with your money to-morrow or next day. Come on,
+Allan. Good day, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re forgetting your rifle,” said the man. Pete
+looked puzzled. Then&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>“Do I get that, too?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, you might as well take that along, I guess.”
+Pete went back and got it. “Where you going now?”
+asked the man.</p>
+
+<p>“Home,” said Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“But how about dinner?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, maybe we’ll beg something to eat on the
+way. I guess there ain’t any place around here where
+they’d take a Winchester carbine as security for a
+Thanksgiving dinner, is there?” asked Pete, with a
+smile. The stranger answered the smile.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Hardly. But I tell you what you do. Strike
+straight up through the woods here over the hill till
+you come to a lane. Keep along that for a quarter of
+a mile until you come to a big brown house standing
+back from the lane. You go there and tell ’em you’re
+hungry, and you’ll get plenty to eat. Ask for Mr.
+Guild. Don’t forget, now; first house you come to.
+There isn’t another for a mile further, so you’d better
+follow my advice.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thanks!” said Pete. Allan echoed him.</p>
+
+<p>“All right,” said the man, smiling kindly. “Good
+morning, gentlemen.”</p>
+
+<p>“Good morning,” they answered. They started off
+through the woods in the direction he had indicated,
+but after a few yards Allan turned and looked back.
+The man, with the setter at heel, was moving along
+a path at right angles to them. He glanced up and
+waved his hand.</p>
+
+<p>“We’re sorry about the ducks,” called Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s so,” Pete shouted.</p>
+
+<p>The man nodded good-naturedly. Then the trees
+hid him.</p>
+
+<p>Allan and Pete walked on in silence for a ways.
+Then&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>“Say, he wasn’t such a bad sort, was he?” asked
+Allan.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“No, he’s all right. I don’t believe he was going
+to do any more than scare us, anyway. Guess he was
+just having some fun with us.”</p>
+
+<p>“Wasn’t it funny about the ducks being tame
+ones?” asked Allan, presently, as they left the woods,
+climbed over a stone wall, and struck off up a lane.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s a joke on me,” said Pete, laughing. “Ginger!
+How was I to know that folks left their old ducks
+floating around loose all over the country here? Out
+our way, when you see a duck in a lake or on the
+river, it’s a wild duck, and you just naturally go ahead
+and shoot it. That’s what bothered me&mdash;those fool
+ducks sitting there and letting me throw rocks at ’em.
+Next time&mdash; Say, I guess that’s our ranch over there.”</p>
+
+<p>Allan’s gaze followed the other’s.</p>
+
+<p>A turn in the lane laid bare a broad expanse of
+lawn, interspersed with ornamental trees and shrubbery,
+beyond which stood a long, rambling house of
+brown-shingled walls and numerous red chimneys.
+Farther off were stables and barns. From the chimneys
+the smoke arose straight into the still air, suggesting
+warmth and good cheer. The boys paused and looked
+longingly across the lawn.</p>
+
+<p>“Shall we try it?” asked Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Sure!” Pete said. “I’m so hungry I could eat
+cedar bark.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“But what will they think?” Allan demurred.
+“It isn’t as though it were a farmhouse, you know.”</p>
+
+<p>“<em>That’s</em> all right; the sweller the folks the better
+the rations. Come on; let’s cut across here.”</p>
+
+<p>“We’ll just ask for some bread and a glass of milk,”
+suggested Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Bread and milk? Ginger! I’ve got to have pie
+and hot coffee!”</p>
+
+<p>“But we’ll go to the back door, won’t we?”</p>
+
+<p>“Like tramps? Not a bit of it. We’ll go to the
+front. What was the name he told us?”</p>
+
+<p>“Guild.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s right; Guild. Hello! look there; there’s
+another one of those setter dogs. Looks just like the
+beast the fellow back there had, doesn’t it?”</p>
+
+<p>But this dog only observed them indifferently from
+a respectful distance, and then trotted around the corner
+of the house as they mounted the broad steps,
+crossed a wide veranda, and pushed the ivory button
+beside the big oaken door. Allan strove to appear at
+ease, but in reality looked as though he had come to
+steal the family silver. A neatly-aproned maid opened
+the door.</p>
+
+<p>“Is Mr. Guild in?” asked Pete, with unruffled
+composure.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir. Will you please walk in?” They followed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>
+her into a library, in which a wood fire was
+crackling merrily in the chimney-place. Allan felt
+like an impostor. Pete calmly selected the easiest
+chair and lowered himself into it with a deep sigh of
+contentment.</p>
+
+<p>“This is something like!” he said. “I’ll bet we’ll
+get two or three kinds of pie, Allan.”</p>
+
+<p>But Allan, sitting uncomfortably on the edge of a
+straight-backed chair, only smiled distressedly and listened
+to the footsteps coming nearer and nearer down
+the uncarpeted hall. The footsteps reached the door;
+Pete and Allan got to their feet as the door swung
+open.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Guild&mdash;” began Pete. Then he stopped
+short.</p>
+
+<p>Before them was the owner of the ducks!</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</a><br />
+<small>THE CAPSIZED BOAT</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>Allan and Pete didn’t forget that day for a long
+time. In retrospect, it was the brightest one between
+the beginning of the college year and the Christmas
+recess. For long afterward Pete would point with
+pride to his performance at table on that day, and
+declare that he believed that should he live to be a
+hundred he could never eat as much again. Dinner
+began at two o’clock and ended, not because of lack
+of further viands but because of inability on the part
+of the guests, at half-past four.</p>
+
+<p>The family at Hillcrest consisted of Mr. Guild, his
+wife, a pleasant-faced and sweet-voiced woman several
+years his junior, and a three-year-old son and heir,
+who did not make his appearance at table but who was
+afterward ceremoniously introduced in the nursery.
+Both host and hostess appeared to have no other desire
+in life than to make the two guests happy and utterly
+ruin their digestions.</p>
+
+<p>Even Pete had had momentary qualms over appearing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>
+at table in the unconventional attire of shooting-coat
+and flannel shirt, but their objections had been
+politely overruled, and by the time the turkey had made
+its appearance they had both lost sight of the fact that
+they were not dressed in the mode. It was while carving
+the turkey that the morning’s episode was recalled.</p>
+
+<p>“This, Mr. Burley,” said their host, “is only
+turkey. Had there been more time, we would have
+had a duck prepared for you.”</p>
+
+<p>Allan wondered, while he laughed, whether Mrs.
+Guild had heard the story of the duck-hunt. The demure
+expression about her mouth led him to suspect
+that she had.</p>
+
+<p>After dinner they adjourned to the library again,
+and Pete was induced to smoke a cigar, although, as
+Allan guessed, he would much rather have used his
+corn-cob pipe. Mrs. Guild disappeared for a while,
+and Pete and Allan stretched themselves luxuriously
+in front of the fire and listened to their host and did
+a good deal of talking themselves. Mr. Guild led them
+to tell of their college life, and displayed such sympathy
+with their views and ambitions that at the end
+of an hour the two boys had become his enthusiastic
+admirers. He knew the West like a book, and Pete
+became quite excited&mdash;for Pete&mdash;swapping recollections
+and stories of “out there.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>After a while Mrs. Guild appeared again, and they
+went into the drawing-room and sat silent and happy
+in the firelight while she played for them. She apologized
+for knowing no college songs, but Pete gallantly
+assured her that he preferred “straight music.” Still
+later there was a four-handed game of billiards in an
+upper hall, in which Mrs. Guild and Allan were badly
+defeated by the host and Pete. Then came the visit
+to the pink-hung nursery and the formal introductions
+to Master Thomas Guild, Junior. And by that time
+it was after eight o’clock, and a surrey stood at the
+door, waiting to bear them back to Centerport.</p>
+
+<p>“You must come out some afternoon,” said their
+host, “and let me show you around. Both Mrs. Guild
+and I have enjoyed your visit, and we want you again.
+We don’t have so many callers but what a couple more
+will be welcome at any time. And when you come, it
+must be to stay to dinner with us.”</p>
+
+<p>And Allan and Pete readily agreed, and kept to
+their agreement. They each voted Mr. Guild a fine
+fellow, and each lost his heart to the hostess. The
+dollar was duly paid, and they received a receipt “in
+full for two ducks. Trusting to receive a continuance
+of your patronage, I remain, Yours faithfully, Thomas
+A. Guild.” There was another visit to Hillcrest the
+following week, and several more before the occurrence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>
+of the incident which, for a time at least, put thoughts
+of visiting out of mind.</p>
+
+<p>On the Monday after Thanksgiving and the duck-hunt,
+the story of which was now college property,
+Pete stamped into Allan’s room just before dinner,
+kicked the snow from his shoes against the chimney,
+tossed his sombrero onto the desk, and subsided into
+the armchair with a mighty sigh of triumph.</p>
+
+<p>“<em>That’s</em> all right,” he announced, heartily but
+vaguely.</p>
+
+<p>“What?” asked Allan, momentarily abandoning
+his struggle with Herodotus.</p>
+
+<p>“Club table. I’ve got my eighth man.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not really? Who have you got?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, there’s”&mdash;he took a list from his pocket&mdash;“there’s
+you, and Hal, and Wolcott, Poor&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Pete, you’re lying!”</p>
+
+<p>“&mdash;and Cooper, Van Sciver, Maitland, and your
+Uncle Pete.”</p>
+
+<p>“But&mdash;but how’d you do it, Pete? How’d you
+get them to join? Offer to pay half their board, or&mdash;or
+what?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, it just took a little dip-lo-macy, my son; just
+a little dip-lo-macy. I started out with you and Hal.
+I got Hal to introduce Poor. Then I told Poor I was
+getting up a representative table, and got him to promise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>
+to join if I secured Maitland and Van Sciver. He
+introduced me to Van Sciver. I told him that you
+and Hal and Poor had promised, and he came right
+over to the party. You were quite a card, my son.
+I had no trouble with Cooper when I told him you
+were one of our principal sights. And so it went.
+After I’d got Poor and Cooper and Van Sciver cinched,
+there was nothing left to do but receive and consider
+applications. I could have had twenty, but I set out
+to make this table exclusive, and exclusive it’s going
+to be, if I have to get the Dean&mdash;hang him!” Pete
+frowned a moment in silence. Then, “Wolcott was
+the last to join; he agreed ten minutes ago; I just
+came from his room.”</p>
+
+<p>“Pete, you surely are a lucky dub!” said Allan.
+“I don’t believe there’s another fellow in college that
+could have got all those chaps together!”</p>
+
+<p>“There wasn’t much luck about it,” said Pete,
+calmly. “It just took hard work. Why, I haven’t
+studied a lick since Wednesday, and I’ve cut half my
+recitations. I guess that’s why the Dean wants to
+see me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Have you heard from him?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes. I had a polite postal card from him yesterday,
+and an impolite one to-day.”</p>
+
+<p>“But why&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Well, I didn’t have time to call on him yesterday;
+I was too busy seeing fellows. It seems to have
+made him some angry.”</p>
+
+<p>Allan whistled expressively.</p>
+
+<p>“You ought to have gone, Pete. He’ll raise thunder
+with you now; see if he don’t.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, <em>that’s</em> all right; he can’t do any worse than
+expel me. And I’m getting pretty tired of this shop,
+anyway; there isn’t much doing. And now that I’ve
+got the table made up, all the excitement’s over with.
+I’ve thought all along I wouldn’t be here much after
+Christmas.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, shut up that! Who’s going to run the table,
+if you go and get fired? And what do you suppose
+I’m going to do, you idiot?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I guess you wouldn’t care,” said Pete, sheepishly.
+But he seemed rather pleased when Allan threw
+Fernald’s Selections at his head.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, maybe he’ll let me off easy this time; just
+suspend me, perhaps.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’d better go and see him right away. But
+you can’t until to-morrow, now.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes; I guess I’ll call at his house to-night.”</p>
+
+<p>“He doesn’t like you to, they say,” cautioned
+Allan. “If I were you, I’d wait until morning.”</p>
+
+<p>“No; better have it over with. I’ll drop around<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>
+afterward and tell you about it. Coming to dinner?”</p>
+
+<p>Allan pleaded study, and Pete took himself off.</p>
+
+<p>As it turned out, the Dean was merciful and Pete
+was merely placed upon probation&mdash;a fact which appeared
+to amuse him vastly.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s just like old times,” he explained to Allan
+and Hal, the latter having come in to recount the
+wonderful things which had happened to him during
+his visit home. “Out in Colorado, I was most always
+on probation. Used to feel downright lonesome when
+I wasn’t.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s all well enough,” said Hal, “but you want
+to be careful, for old Levett’s the very dickens if you
+get too gay with him. First thing you know, you won’t
+know anything.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t now,” answered Pete, promptly and cheerfully.
+“But I wouldn’t be surprised if something did
+drop. The fact is&mdash;” he hesitated, sighed dolefully,
+and shook his head, “the fact is, I’ve been feeling lately
+that something unpleasant is going to happen to me.
+I guess it’s a&mdash;a premonition.”</p>
+
+<p>His tone was quite sad, and Allan and Hal stared
+at him in silent surprise. Then&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>“What’s the matter with you, you idiot?” asked
+Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing; I dare say it’s just foolishness, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>
+somehow&mdash;” He sighed again. “Well, <em>that’s</em> all
+right,” he went on, with an evident effort at cheerfulness.
+“Have a good time, Hal?”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re off your feed, that’s what’s the matter with
+you,” said Hal, severely. “Your liver’s out of whack.
+Better see the doctor.”</p>
+
+<p>“What’s probation, anyway?” asked Allan, lightly.
+“It’s likely to happen to any one.”</p>
+
+<p>“It isn’t that,” Pete replied, dolefully. “But I
+don’t want to talk of my troubles,” he continued, with
+martyr-like complacency. “Tell us what you did, Hal.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, you’re plumb woozy!” exclaimed the latter.
+Nevertheless, he consented to tell again of the remarkable
+events which had transpired during his absence,
+and Pete’s melancholy disappeared. It was a peculiar
+feature of it that during the following week it possessed
+him only occasionally. But when it did, he
+seemed in the uttermost depths of melancholy&mdash;a melancholy
+quite as mysterious and remarkable to his
+friends as the celerity with which he recovered on each
+occasion. Hal declared over and over that he was
+“woozy”&mdash;a term of doubtful significance, but quite
+satisfying to the user&mdash;and Tommy hinted at overstudy.
+This was among themselves. When Pete was
+present, they merely called him a fool, and let it go
+at that.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It was the first day of December that witnessed
+the advent upon the scene of a new character in our
+story. A wagon stopped in front of Mrs. Purdy’s in
+the afternoon and an expressman deposited a small
+box inside Allan’s door. He found it there when he
+returned from his last recitation. It had slats nailed
+across the top, and from its dark recesses came strange
+sounds. Allan stared. The sounds resolved themselves
+into the plaintive mewings of a kitten, and Allan recollected
+his request to his mother&mdash;a request long since
+forgotten by him, but evidently well remembered by
+her. He tore off a couple of the slats and lifted out a
+six-weeks-old kitten.</p>
+
+<p>It was a pathetic little white object, with two black
+spots on its back and weak-looking pale blue eyes which
+blinked inquiringly at him. Its mouth opened, and the
+appealing cry was repeated. Allan set it down and
+raced for the kitchen. When he returned, he carried
+a huge bowl of milk.</p>
+
+<p>The kitten was roaming disconsolately about the
+floor, but at sight of the milk trotted up, and apparently
+strove to commit suicide by overeating&mdash;an intention
+frustrated by Allan, who removed the bowl
+finally and took the kitten into his lap in front of the
+fire. It seemed to have suddenly grown to twice its
+size, and instead of the heart-rending mews, Allan heard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>
+a faint but enthusiastic purring as the poor little object
+curled itself up in his arm and blinked its gratitude.
+Presently it went fast asleep and, rather than disturb
+it, Allan sat there for almost an hour, with his books
+just out of reach.</p>
+
+<p>That evening they named it. Tommy wanted something
+patriotic: Erskine, he thought, was just the thing.
+Hal showed the possession of an unsuspected streak of
+sentiment and clamored for Hortense. Allan, recollecting
+the fact that the mother’s name was Edith
+Cinnamon, was in favor of calling the offspring Clove
+or Nutmeg. But Pete, who had been gravely examining
+the kitten at arm’s length, took his pipe from between
+his lips, and with the stem tapped the two black
+spots on its back.</p>
+
+<p>“Two Spot,” he said, with finality.</p>
+
+<p>Two Spot it was. And a few days later neither
+of the others would have changed the name for any
+consideration, since, as Tommy sadly expressed it,
+“Poor old Pete had named her.”</p>
+
+<p>That first day of December was memorable not only
+for the arrival of Two Spot, but for the first gathering
+at Pete’s club table. Of those beside our friends who
+composed the table, it is not necessary to speak at any
+length.</p>
+
+<p>Poor we already know very slightly. Wolcott,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>
+Cooper, Van Sciver, and Maitland were average fellows
+who had gained prestige for one reason or another,
+among their companions. It was a fact that Pete had
+succeeded in gathering together what might have been
+called the pick of the freshman class. That he had
+been able to do so was partly because of his tact and
+powers of persuasion and partly because freshman club
+tables were so seldom formed at Erskine that the
+project had the flavor of the unusual.</p>
+
+<p>Dinner was the first meal, and it was a very jolly
+one. There were one or two introductions to be made,
+and these Pete performed with his usual breeziness.
+After that the eight members sat down, Pete thumped
+the bell commandingly, and the table began its official
+existence&mdash;an existence which endured for four college
+years.</p>
+
+<p>By the time the roast beef and vegetables made their
+appearance the ice was very thoroughly broken. When
+the cabinet-pudding and fruit came on, good-fellowship
+reigned supreme, and long after the last plate had been
+pushed aside the members still sat about the table, as
+though loath to leave. It is doubtful if there was a
+single one of them who did not, mentally at least, thank
+Pete Burley for including him in his club table.</p>
+
+<p>One gusty winter afternoon, four days later, Pete
+appeared at Allan’s room at about three o’clock. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>
+wore his thickest sweater and a pair of woolen
+gloves.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m going up to see the Guilds. Want to come
+along?”</p>
+
+<p>“You know plaguey well I can’t,” said Allan, impatiently.
+“I’ve got all this stuff to do.” He indicated
+the litter of books and papers hopelessly. Somehow,
+of late the Midyears had seemed perilously near.</p>
+
+<p>“Sorry. I’ll tell ’em you said ‘How.’ I think
+I’ll take a boat and row up.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll what?” gasped Allan. “Why, it’s an easy
+three miles by the river.”</p>
+
+<p>“<em>That’s</em> all right; I feel like a little exercise.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re a chump if you do,” answered the other,
+irritably. “How’ll you get the boat back?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll let it stay there, maybe. Maybe I’ll come
+back in it after dinner. It’s easy enough to get down-stream.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not in the dark. You’ll drown your fool self.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I guess not. Sorry you can’t come along.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m not,” muttered Allan, as the door closed.
+“Pete’s a perfect idiot lately.”</p>
+
+<p>After dinner the wind increased into a very respectable
+gale, and Allan fell to wondering whether
+Pete would be fool enough to attempt the trip back
+in the boat. At nine o’clock his uneasiness drove him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>
+forth. He fought his way down Main Street to Center,
+and so around to Pete’s lodgings. Lights in the windows
+reassured him, and he had half a mind to go
+back to his studies, but after a moment’s indecision he
+decided to go up for just a moment and tell Pete again
+what an idiot he had been. So he climbed the stairs
+and thrust open the door. At the table stood Tommy.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh!” he said, “I thought you were Pete.”</p>
+
+<p>“Isn’t he here?” asked Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“No; I don’t know where he is.”</p>
+
+<p>“I do,” Allan replied. Tommy was plainly uneasy
+when he learned of Pete’s trip. The two stayed
+until almost eleven. Then, as Pete had not returned,
+they went home together.</p>
+
+<p>“He’s probably decided to stay there all night,”
+said Allan, hopefully. “Like as not, they wouldn’t
+let him come back.”</p>
+
+<p>“I guess that’s it,” answered Tommy. “Pete
+wouldn’t be such a fool, anyhow, as to try and come
+down the river on a night like this.”</p>
+
+<p>But despite his words, Allan went to sleep feeling
+not a little worried, and awoke the next morning with
+a feeling of impending misfortune. Pete was not in
+the dining-hall, but it was after eleven o’clock before
+Allen had an opportunity to make inquiries. When
+he did, he could find no news of his friend. No one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>
+had seen him that morning. Allan cut a recitation
+and hurried down to Pete’s rooms. The bed had not
+been occupied. Allan returned to the yard fighting
+against fear.</p>
+
+<p>At three he heard the news from Hal, who, white
+of face, was waiting him on the porch.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s&mdash;it’s all up with p-poor old Pete,” he announced,
+with his mouth working tremulously. “They
+found the boat he had a mile down the river. It&mdash;it
+was capsized!”</p>
+
+<p>Allan felt his own face go pale, but after a moment
+he muttered:</p>
+
+<p>“Pete could swim like a fish; you know that.”</p>
+
+<p>Hal shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>“Then why hasn’t he showed up?” he asked, hopelessly.
+“No, he’s a goner. You remember what he
+said about premonitions and things going to happen
+to him? I guess he was right, Allan. Poor old Pete!
+They&mdash;they found his hat, too, down by the wharves.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</a><br />
+<small>TOMMY CORRECTS A REPORT</small></h2>
+
+<p>Allan was almost the last of Pete’s friends to give
+up hope; but when, by the next morning, Pete had
+neither returned nor had news of him been received,
+even Allan accepted the general belief. The janitor
+at the boat-house readily identified the overturned boat,
+while as for the hat, which had washed ashore at the
+foot of Main Street, even if Allan and Hal had been
+in doubt about it, there was still Pete’s initials marked
+on the inside. Inquiry at Hillcrest had elicited the
+information that Pete had never reached there.</p>
+
+<p>The Guilds were deeply concerned, and Mr. Guild
+not only added a sum to that offered by the college
+for the recovery of the body, but himself took charge
+of a boat which all the next day dragged the river
+between his place and Centerport. The drowned body,
+however, was never recovered&mdash;a fact which surprised
+nobody, since the current is capricious, and the stream
+so broad as to preclude the possibility of searching
+every foot of its bed.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The accepted theory was that Pete had encountered
+a sudden squall while crossing the river which had
+either swamped the boat or overturned it. Although
+Pete was known to have been a capable swimmer and
+a fellow of more than ordinary strength, yet the fact
+that he had failed to win the shore from midstream,
+weighted down as he had been with heavy clothing,
+was not considered strange.</p>
+
+<p>A telegram was at once despatched to Pete’s father
+in Colorado, and, since that did not elicit a reply by
+the following forenoon, a second message was sent. The
+death was announced in the city papers with much
+detail, and Pete’s athletic prowess was highly exaggerated.
+The Erskine Purple, which appeared the second
+day after the accident, contained a half-column notice
+of the sad affair, in which Pete’s many estimable qualities
+were feelingly set forth. Tommy wrote the notice
+himself, and, as he felt every word he wrote, the article
+was a very touching tribute.</p>
+
+<p>The club table was a subdued and sorrowful place
+for several days. Pete’s chair stood pathetically empty
+until, in desperation, Allan put it away. But as a
+head to the table was essential, an informal election
+was taken two days after Pete’s disappearance, and
+Wolcott was elevated to the place of honor. A meeting
+of the freshman class was called and a committee<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>
+was appointed to draw up resolutions of sorrow, to be
+sent to Pete’s father and to be published in the Purple.</p>
+
+<p>When, after the second day of search, the tug-boat
+commissioned by the college to drag for the body abandoned
+its work, the first depression had passed and the
+college by degrees returned to its usual spirits. But
+Allan and Hal and Tommy were not so speedily resigned.
+Tommy, in especial, took the event hard.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps it had been the utter dissimilarity of Pete’s
+nature and his own which had drawn him to Pete.
+That as may be, Tommy was a very grave-faced little
+chap in those days.</p>
+
+<p>But Allan, if he showed less grief, was sadly depressed.
+He had not realized before how much he had
+grown to care in six weeks for the big, good-hearted
+Westerner. He felt terribly lonely, and besides he
+blamed himself for not having accompanied Pete;
+perhaps, he thought dolefully, had he gone along, the
+accident wouldn’t have happened, and Pete would have
+been sitting there now across the table, puffing lazily
+at his evil-smelling corn-cob pipe. But instead of Pete
+there was only Tommy and Hal&mdash;and Two Spot.</p>
+
+<p>Two Spot, grown greatly in bulk since her advent,
+was snuggled against Tommy’s arm. Outside it was
+blowing a gale and lashing the rain against the long
+windows. It was a most depressing afternoon, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>
+the spirits of the three friends were at a low ebb.
+Tommy looked now and then as though a good cry
+would do him worlds of good. Hal scowled morosely
+and drummed irritatingly on the arm of the Morris
+chair until Allan, in desperation, begged him to “cut
+it out.” It was at this juncture that Tommy let fall
+a remark that set Allan thinking hard.</p>
+
+<p>“Poor old Pete got what he was after, though,
+didn’t he?” asked Tommy, breaking a silence of several
+minutes’ duration.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s that?” asked Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t you remember the bet he and I made?”
+Tommy replied. “Well, he got his name on the first
+page of the Purple, after all. Wish he hadn’t.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s so,” said Hal. “I’d forgotten about that
+bet. I guess you’ll have to pay that wager to us,
+Tommy, and we’ll drink to Pete’s memory.”</p>
+
+<p>Allan, his heart thumping wildly, looked at the
+other fellows’ faces, but it was quite evident that the
+wild surmise which had come to him had not occurred
+to them. He pushed back his chair abruptly and went
+to the window.</p>
+
+<p>Was it possible? he asked himself. Surely, Pete
+would not have gone to such a length merely to win
+a bet! And yet&mdash;Pete was Pete; what another fellow
+would do was no criterion when it came to Pete’s conduct.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>
+Allan’s heart was racing and thumping now.
+The more he considered the affair in the light of
+Tommy’s remark the more plausible seemed the startling
+theory which had assailed him. He turned to
+blurt out his suspicions to the others, then hesitated.
+If he should prove to be wrong, he would regret charging
+Pete with such madness. Perhaps he had better
+keep his own counsel for a while longer.</p>
+
+<p>To you, respected reader, who have all along known,
+or at least suspected, the truth of the matter, it probably
+seems strange that Allan should not have instantly
+realized the hoax. I have no explanation to offer in his
+behalf. He was still in doubt when Fate, in the not
+uncommon semblance of a postman, came to his relief.</p>
+
+<p>When he answered the landlady’s tap on his door,
+he received a letter the mere sight of which set all
+his doubts at rest. The envelope was postmarked
+Hastings&mdash;Hastings is a small city eighteen miles
+down the river from Centerport&mdash;and the round,
+schoolboy writing was unmistakably Pete’s.</p>
+
+<p>Tommy and Hal glanced around when the door
+opened, but paid no attention while Allan tore open
+the envelope and rushed through the two pages of
+writing inside. They only awoke to the fact that
+something had happened when Allan, waving the sheet
+above his head, gave vent to a blood-curdling yell of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>
+joy that sent Two Spot scuttling out of Tommy’s arms
+and under the dresser.</p>
+
+<p>“What is it?” they cried in unison.</p>
+
+<p>Allan waved the letter again ecstatically.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s a letter from him!”</p>
+
+<p>“Him? Who?”</p>
+
+<p>“<em>Pete!</em>”</p>
+
+<p>To attempt to describe the subsequent confusion
+would be absurd. Only a wide-awake phonograph
+could do it. Two chairs were overturned, Tommy
+screeched, Hal roared, Allan yelled back. The letter
+waved in air. Then Tommy danced an impromptu
+jig and, being quite unconscious that he was doing it,
+did it with much grace. Unfortunately none noticed
+it. Hal was struggling for the letter. Allan was
+fighting to keep possession of it. Tommy danced on.
+Occasionally he shrieked. His shriek was not nearly
+so pleasant as his dancing. After many moments comparative
+quiet settled and three breathless fellows gathered
+at the window while Allan, holding the precious
+document in his hands, read aloud. This is what they
+heard, leaving out, for the sake of clearness, the frequent
+interpolations of the listeners:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Hastings House, Hastings</span>, <i>Dec. 7, 1903</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dear Allan</span>&mdash;I guess you weren’t fooled, but anyhow
+it may be best, in case you are getting worried,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>
+to write and let you know that I am still alive and
+kicking like a steer. I would have written before, but
+only got a copy of the Purp this morning. It was
+fine. Tell Tommy he did nobly. I know it was
+Tommy wrote it because of the poetry. I’m going to
+have that front page framed for my descendants to
+look upon. They’ll know then what a noble youth
+I was.</p>
+
+<p>I’m leaving here for New York to-night. The old
+man’s there. I’m not stuck on telling him about it,
+you can bet. He will be rip-snorting mad. I had
+to drown myself when I did because I got a letter
+saying he was going to be in New York a couple of
+weeks, and I knew he wouldn’t get any telegrams or
+things announcing my sad death. I don’t guess they’ll
+let me come back to college, and I don’t care very much,
+except that I hate to say good-by to you and Hal and
+Tommy. But I’ll see you again before I go home,
+unless they are easy on me, which doesn’t seem likely,
+does it?</p>
+
+<p>You see, I rowed up to Harwich, turned the boat
+over and set it adrift, and tossed my hat after it.
+I had another inside my coat. Then I walked to
+Williamsport and took the train back to this place.
+I’ve been here ever since. It’s a dull hole. But I
+had to wait for the Purple to make sure I hadn’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>
+slipped up. I suppose there was a lot of trouble. I’m
+sorry if I worried you fellows, but life was getting
+duller than ditch-water and something had to be done.
+I wish you would go down to my room and pack up
+the things that are lying around.</p>
+
+<p>Tell Tommy I’ll come back some day for that dinner,
+and that it’s got to be a good one. Maybe, if you
+have time, you’ll write and tell me how you all are.
+It seems like I hadn’t seen you for a month. Address
+me, Care Thomas A. Burley, Fifth Avenue Hotel, New
+York. You fellows have got to come out to Colorado
+this summer and visit me if they don’t let me come
+back to college. If you don’t, I’ll arise from my watery
+grave and haunt you. Say “How” to Hal and Tommy,
+and don’t forget your poor old</p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Uncle Pete</span>.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<p>The news astonished everybody save the Dean, who
+had already begun to smell a rat. Astonishment gave
+place to relief or joy, according to the hearer’s degree
+of intimacy with Pete, and joy gave place to resentment.
+It is rather annoying to lavish regret over the
+taking-off of a friend only to discover that the friend
+has worked a deliberate hoax on you and is still alive
+to enjoy your confusion. That is why, had Pete put<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>
+in an appearance at Erskine at that time, he would
+in all probability have been mobbed.</p>
+
+<p>But Pete didn’t appear, and ultimately resentment
+gave place to amusement. The general attitude became
+one of laughing disapproval. After all, Pete was Pete,
+and even if he had harrowed their feelings considerably
+at the same time he had supplied interest at a dull
+season and had worked nobody any harm. This reasoning
+may have appealed to the faculty as well. At
+all events, their verdict, when announced, was thought
+to be amazingly merciful. Peter Burley ’07 was suspended
+for the balance of the term. As there remained
+less than four weeks of the term, the penalty would
+be of short duration.</p>
+
+<p>Allan and Hal were delighted, and even Tommy,
+after the first day or two of rampant rage, grudgingly
+acknowledged that he was glad Pete was coming back.
+This was also after Tommy had written a denial for
+the Purple of that paper’s announcement of Pete’s
+death. That denial was very, very simple and brief.
+There was no mention made of Pete’s many excellent
+qualities, nor did it express exuberant joy over his
+restoration. It merely stated that the announcement
+had proved erroneous and that Mr. Peter Burley was
+visiting relatives in New York city.</p>
+
+<p>When Allan or Hal mentioned that announcement,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>
+Tommy went purple in the face and fell to stuttering.
+Perhaps, as Allan pointed out, it was just as well he
+stuttered, since what he had to say was really unfit
+for polite ears. But Tommy’s anger was too intense
+to last, and by the middle of the month he was able
+to smile wanly at Pete’s deception. The awarding to
+him of a two-hundred-dollar scholarship helped, perhaps,
+to restore his good humor. Hal said the scholarship
+would come in very handy in paying for the
+dinner.</p>
+
+<p>Pete wrote that he had heard the faculty’s verdict,
+and was glad they were going to let him come back.
+He was leaving New York for home as he wrote, to
+be gone until the opening of the winter term. By
+reading between the lines, Allan surmised that Pete’s
+father had not been over-much pleased with his son’s
+escapade; there were signs of a chastened spirit.</p>
+
+<p>The term wore itself to a close, and one sunshiny
+morning Allan and Hal and Tommy left Centerport
+for their respective homes, traveling the first part of
+the journey in company. Two Spot, apparently indifferent
+to the separation, was confided to Mrs. Purdy,
+and spent the Christmas holidays in the neighborhood
+of the kitchen range.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</a><br />
+<small>PETE WRITES HOME</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>“Of course,” said Allan, “we’re not terribly poor,
+but it’s going to make a good deal of difference to us.”</p>
+
+<p>The new term was three days old and Allan and
+Pete were sitting in front of the stove in Pete’s study.
+The stove was a recent addition to the furnishings,
+and installed more in deference to his friends’ demands
+than from any desire of his own. Pete didn’t mind
+a little cold; just so long as he could find enough water
+under the ice in the pitcher to wash with, he was
+satisfied. But Allan and Hal and Tommy made disparaging
+remarks about his heating arrangements and
+ostentatiously kept their hats and coats on while visiting
+him, and so Pete bought a base-burner and a half
+ton of coal.</p>
+
+<p>“What mine is it?” asked Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“The Gold Beetle. Ever hear of it? It’s out in
+your State.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is it at Rico?” asked Pete.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Yes, that’s the place. Didn’t you say you were
+there last summer?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, and I know&mdash;something about the mine.”
+Pete looked thoughtfully at the flames dancing behind
+the mica. “Fact is,” he continued, “the old man is
+interested in it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Really? Then don’t you think it will be all
+right? He wouldn’t have anything to do with a poor
+mine, would he?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, the trouble is you can’t always tell whether
+a mine’s good or bad. The old man’s got stock in all
+kinds; some of it’s good, some of it isn’t worth the
+paper it’s printed on. I’ve got a lot of that kind
+myself. I used to think I was something of an investor.
+Now, this Gold Beetle; what’s probably happened
+to that is that the pay ore has given out. It
+very often does. A mine’ll run thousands to the ton
+for two or three years, sometimes twenty, and then
+all of a sudden the lode will just naturally peter out.
+I guess that’s what’s happened to the Beetle. I remember
+pretty well how it lies. There are paying properties
+all around it, and maybe if they went on or opened
+up new drifts they’d come across fresh lodes; or maybe
+they wouldn’t; it’s just a gamble. I dare say the
+stockholders aren’t willing to put any money into it.
+How much stock do your folks hold?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know exactly. Pretty nearly half of it,
+I think.”</p>
+
+<p>“Too bad! I’ll ask the old man, when I write,
+what he thinks about it.”</p>
+
+<p>“I wish you would. Maybe if he owns some of it
+we could&mdash;could kind of get together and&mdash;and do
+something,” said Allan, vaguely but hopefully.</p>
+
+<p>“Maybe,” answered Pete, thoughtfully. “Meanwhile&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Meanwhile I’ve got to find some way of making
+a little money; enough to pay my board, at any rate.
+And that’s why I ought to leave the table, Pete, and
+go back to commons, where I can feed for less.”</p>
+
+<p>“But we can’t let you do that. Now, look here;
+you don’t eat very much. What’s the sense in your
+paying as much as I do, who eat twice as much? That’s
+plumb foolish! I ought to pay at least eight dollars
+and you oughtn’t to pay a red cent over four; and
+that’s the way it’s going to be after this.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, it isn’t,” Allan replied. “If I stay, I’ll pay
+my share, and that’s six dollars, Pete. I went over
+yesterday to see if I couldn’t get a place in Brown
+Hall as a waiter, but there aren’t any vacancies; they
+told me they had two applications for every place.”</p>
+
+<p>“But you wouldn’t like to wait on table, would
+you?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“It isn’t a question of liking. I’ve heard tell of
+lots of ways of earning money in college, but none of
+them seem very practical for my case.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, look here; you figure out how much money
+you’ll need for the rest of the year and let me know.”</p>
+
+<p>Allan looked puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>“What good would that do?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll lend it to you. Now, shut up! I haven’t
+offered to give it to you, have I, you chump? You
+can pay me back any time you like; there isn’t a bit
+of a hurry. And I’ve got a whole lot of money in
+bank from last term. Somehow, it’s mighty hard to
+get rid of money up here. You needn’t say anything
+to any one about it; it’ll just be between you and me.
+That’s all right, ain’t it?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, it isn’t all right, Pete, but it’s awfully good
+of you, and I won’t forget it in a hurry.”</p>
+
+<p>And although Pete threatened and coaxed and
+called names, he was at last forced to abandon the
+proposition. And in the end it was Tommy who,
+learning of Allan’s quandary, made the suggestion
+which led to a measure of success.</p>
+
+<p>“I knew a fellow at school who used to go around
+to the fellows’ rooms at night and sell sandwiches and
+wienerwursts and made good money,” said Tommy.
+“Wouldn’t care for that, though, I guess?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Allan acknowledged that he wouldn’t.</p>
+
+<p>“Then there was a fellow I heard of who was
+agent for a sporting-goods firm and sold on commission.
+He worked up quite a trade, but it took him a good
+while to do it. Then there was a fellow had a rental
+business: rented rooms and got a commission from the
+landladies; but he did most of his business in the fall.
+Then&mdash;” Tommy paused, struck by a brilliant thought.
+“You might try for a place on the Purple,” he
+cried. “They elect new men in March. If you got
+a place, you’d make fair money from March on to the
+end of the year. That’s what I did last year, and I
+made enough to pay my board.”</p>
+
+<p>“But I don’t know anything about reporting,
+Tommy,” Allan objected. “Besides, I’m not a hustler
+like you.”</p>
+
+<p>Tommy looked disappointed. He thought for a
+minute in silence. Then&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>“I tell you, Allan,” he said, “I’ll see Stearns.
+He’s track-team captain, you know. I’ll tell him that
+if you don’t find something to do, you won’t be able
+to stay here. And he won’t want to lose you, you
+can bet, because he’s set his heart on winning from
+Robinson this spring.”</p>
+
+<p>“But I don’t know that that would be quite true,”
+Allan objected. “Because, even if I don’t find any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>
+work, maybe I’ll be able to hang on here somehow to
+the end of the year.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I won’t lie to him,” said Tommy, “but
+I’ll fix him so he’ll find something; you see if I don’t.”</p>
+
+<p>He lifted Two Spot off his lap and deposited her
+on the desk, where she subsided contentedly against a
+pile of books and purred on as though nothing had
+happened.</p>
+
+<p>“Happy little bunch of fur, isn’t she?” asked
+Tommy. “If she’s too great an expense to you, I’ll
+take her off your hands.”</p>
+
+<p>“Indeed, you’ll not!” answered Allan. “While
+there’s a loaf left in the house, she shall have the
+crust.”</p>
+
+<p>“Scratch him, Kitty! Say, did Pete tell you he’d
+gone out for the freshman hockey team? Won’t he
+be a sight on the ice?”</p>
+
+<p>“He says he can skate,” answered Allan. “All
+I know is, I don’t want to have the thingamabob&mdash;puck&mdash;when
+he’s bearing down on me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Are you going to play?”</p>
+
+<p>“No; I’d like to, but I guess I won’t have time.
+Besides, I don’t skate very well.”</p>
+
+<p>“Skating isn’t everything in hockey,” said Tommy,
+wisely. “I can skate myself. I can make the ice
+look like a picture in a book or a map of China; but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>
+last year, when I went out for the freshman team, I
+was nearly slaughtered. Leroy butted me into the
+boards and somebody else cracked me over the shins
+with his stick and another chap tripped me up&mdash;accidentally,
+<em>of</em> course&mdash;and I slid thirty-one feet or thereabouts
+on my head. The hair didn’t grow back for a
+month. I quit. Life was too precious.”</p>
+
+<p>“Wise youth!” commented Allan. “But we
+mustn’t miss seeing Pete play. Let’s go over to the
+rink to-morrow, if there is any ice.”</p>
+
+<p>“All right. And I guess there’ll be ice; it’s cold
+enough now to freeze a door-knob. Going down to
+Pete’s this evening? I’ll see you there, then. So long.
+Good-by, Two Spot, my angel child!”</p>
+
+<p>Tommy’s plan bore fruit. Allan had a visit from
+Walter Stearns next day, and two days later Allan
+was giving two hours out of each twenty-four to
+clerical work in the office of the Erskine College Athletic
+Association.</p>
+
+<p>The work, which consisted chiefly of answering
+letters from Professor Nast’s dictation&mdash;Professor Nast
+was chairman of the Athletic Committee&mdash;was ridiculously
+easy, if somewhat uninteresting, and seemed out
+of all proportion to the remuneration, which was one
+dollar an hour. There were five working days in the
+week for Allan, and as a result he was earning ten<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>
+dollars a week&mdash;twice as much as he had hoped for.
+And all the time he was disturbed by a haunting
+thought that, when all was said and done, he was not
+really earning the money. But it seemed absurd to
+find fault with his good fortune so long as his employers
+were satisfied, and so he offered no objections.
+Afterwards he marveled at his blindness.</p>
+
+<p>About this time Pete wrote one of his semi-occasional
+letters to his father. He wasn’t much of a
+letter-writer, and the epistle as a whole would not
+interest us, but a portion of it merits attention.</p>
+
+<p>“I remember (he wrote) that you said in New
+York you’d been down town to a meeting of the Gold
+Beetle stockholders, and that they had voted to stop
+work on the mine. I didn’t know then that Allan’s
+folks were interested in it. I guess they haven’t dismantled
+yet, and so it isn’t too late to change your
+mind. I guess you have enough stock in it to control
+it; if you haven’t, the Wares’ shares will give you the
+whip-hand. I want you to have them go ahead with
+the Gold Beetle and fuss round some. A couple of
+months’ work won’t break anybody. You can charge
+your share of it up to me. There must be pay ore
+somewhere on the property. Look at all the gold that’s
+coming out all around it. Allan’s folks need the
+money. It’s about all the income they have. If that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>
+stops, his sister will have to give up her college, and
+so will Allan. Allan’s my side partner, and I’m not
+going to have him lose what property he has without
+another try. Let me know right away about this.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</a><br />
+<small>HOCKEY&mdash;WITH VARIATIONS</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>Allan, Tommy, and Hal stood at the side of the
+rink, up to their ankles in snow, and watched Pete
+play hockey. The rink was built at the far end of
+Erskine Field, and looked, from the locker house, like
+a brand-new cattle-pen.</p>
+
+<p>This Saturday afternoon it was snowing in a half-hearted
+way, making the ice slushy and hiding the
+town from view. There were about fifty other fellows
+looking on, for the Midyears had begun, and anything
+to take the mind off examinations was welcome. The
+varsity team had traveled down the river to play Hastings
+High School, and the freshman team was making
+the most of its opportunities.</p>
+
+<p>There were only twelve candidates present, and so
+the opposing teams each lacked a forward. But in
+spite of this the play was fast and furious, making up
+in enthusiasm what it lacked in science. Pete was
+playing cover-point on the first team, and thus far<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>
+his performance had not lacked of applause. If some
+of the applause was unmistakably sarcastic, still it
+was applause.</p>
+
+<p>Pete was a hard skater and very much at home
+on the ice, but there wasn’t much of grace about him.
+He hadn’t as yet learned the subtleties of stick-handling,
+but he usually managed to get the puck by the
+simple expedient of skating full-tilt against the opponent
+and knocking him down in a good-natured, inoffensive
+way. Allan, Tommy, and Hal felt, as they
+watched, that they were being fully rewarded for
+tramping out there through the snow.</p>
+
+<p>“Let’s see you skate backward, Pete,” called Allan
+in a lull of the game. Pete grinned.</p>
+
+<p>“Give us the grape-vine, Pete,” begged Tommy.
+Pete grinned again.</p>
+
+<p>“How are you on the outer-edge, old man?” asked
+Hal. Pete continued to grin.</p>
+
+<p>Then the puck came sliding down toward him,
+dribbled this way and that by the hockey of an opposing
+forward. Pete drew himself together, grasped his
+stick in both hands as though it was a bludgeon, and
+rushed toward the foe. Down went the foe, and the
+three admirers laughed joyfully. But Pete didn’t get
+the puck, for the vanquished one had succeeded in
+passing it across to another forward, exhibiting the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>
+first suggestion of team-play of the afternoon, so far
+as the second team was concerned, and Pete skated
+wildly in pursuit. The point went out to meet the
+attack, another clever pass was made, and then&mdash;
+Presto! goal was shaking his head and pulling the
+disk out from under the netting. The second had
+scored.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, that was great work, Pete!” cried Allan,
+admiringly.</p>
+
+<p>“That was <em>playing</em>!” said Hal. “Oh, it was
+great!”</p>
+
+<p>“Real science, <em>I</em> call it!” declared Tommy.
+“How’d you do it, Pete?”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t you mind their scoring, Pete,” said Allan,
+encouragingly. “You knocked your man down. Just
+you kill all you want to.”</p>
+
+<p>Pete skated over and scattered them with his
+hockey.</p>
+
+<p>“You wait till I get these skates off,” he threatened,
+“and I’ll roll you three little snipes in the
+snow!”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t waste your strength on us, Pete,” begged
+Tommy from a safe distance. “Slaughter the enemy.
+Don’t be discouraged; there’s only six left.”</p>
+
+<p>“Eat ’em up, Pete!” cried Hal.</p>
+
+<p>Pete shook his stick at them and turned away. As<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>
+he skated back to his position a chorus of admiring
+“A-a-ahs!” followed him. When the second half was
+almost done the score was 5 to 6, in the first team’s
+favor, and the captain of the second, a big, round-faced
+chap who played center, called on his support for a
+goal.</p>
+
+<p>“Play hard, fellows, and let’s tie this!” he commanded.
+“Play together now!”</p>
+
+<p>Fortune seemed to be favoring them. They secured
+the rubber and swept with it down the rink. As usual,
+Pete put one man out of the play, but by the time he
+had recovered from the check the advance was past him
+and was threatening the goal. Both teams were mixed
+in wild confusion, and the puck was carroming about
+from goal to attack and from attack to defense. Then
+it was sped knee-high at the net, was luckily stopped
+by the goal, and shot out to the side right at Pete’s
+feet.</p>
+
+<p>Pete started off with it, but was in such a hurry
+that he overskated, and had to fight for it. When he
+again secured possession the attack was thick about
+him. But he started off again, and the forwards of
+his side skated to their positions. Pete kept close to
+the boards, fooled the opposing cover-point by carroming
+the puck against them, and for an instant had a
+clear shot at goal. But shooting wasn’t Pete’s specialty,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>
+and so he charged on until, well past the center of the
+ice, the second team’s captain charged him fiercely from
+the side, hurling him against the boards and knocking
+his stick into the air.</p>
+
+<p>Luckily, the puck struck the adversary’s skate and
+carromed back to the side, and Pete, thrusting his skate
+against it, held it there while the other pushed and
+shoved with his body and tried to work the puck loose
+with his stick. About them hovered friend and foe,
+awaiting the instant when the disk should slide out of
+the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">mêlée</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The second-team player fought like mad and at
+last, by a fierce shove, moved Pete’s foot. <a href="#image04">Pete</a>, fearing
+loss of the precious prize, swung quickly around,
+bringing his adversary to the boards, and then, catching
+him with one hand at the knee, <a href="#image04">tipped him over the
+barrier</a> into the soft snow.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 383px;">
+<a name="image04" id="image04">
+  <img src="images/image04.jpg" width="383" height="600"
+       alt="Pete tipped him over the barrier."
+       title="Pete tipped him over the barrier." />
+</a><br />
+<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_143">Pete tipped him over the barrier.</a></div>
+</div>
+
+<p>Without waiting to see him safely landed, Pete
+rescued the puck from an interloping enemy and went
+straight down the rink with it, scorning friend and foe
+alike, and drove it furiously into goal. When he swung
+around and looked back, it seemed that a devastating
+gale had swept over the rink, for along his route first-team
+men and second-team men were picking themselves
+up from the ice. But what surprised him more
+was the appearance of the second’s captain, who, snow-covered,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>
+black of face and scowling, was swaggering
+up to him.</p>
+
+<p>“What did you do that for?” he growled.</p>
+
+<p>From the sides of the rink came shouts of laughter.
+Allan, Hal, and Tommy were hanging feebly over the
+barrier, beating the planks with their hands in gasping
+impotence.</p>
+
+<p>“Do what?” asked Pete, plainly at a loss.</p>
+
+<p>“Throw me over the boards,” answered the other,
+belligerently.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, that?” asked Pete. “Why, you were in my
+way, you see.”</p>
+
+<p>“You shouldn’t have done that, Burley,” said the
+first team’s captain. “But you needn’t try and scrap
+here on the ice,” he continued, turning to the other.
+“Play the game!”</p>
+
+<p>“Look here,” said Pete, “wasn’t that all right?
+Mustn’t I do that?”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course you can’t. You ought to know the
+rules. The puck goes back there again.” The first’s
+captain turned away impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s on me, partner,” said Pete. “Sorry, and
+hope I didn’t hurt you.”</p>
+
+<p>“All right,” muttered the other, as graciously as
+he could. The knowledge that he had served as a
+source of intense amusement prevented him from putting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>
+much cordiality into his tones. The puck was
+taken back to where Pete had transgressed the rules,
+and again faced off by him and the second’s captain.
+The latter got possession and the play went on, but to
+the onlookers it was very dull, and none cared when,
+after a minute or two, the game came to an end.</p>
+
+<p>Allan, Hal, and Tommy, still very red of face and
+still grinning, awaited Pete and escorted him back to
+the college in triumph, Hal marching ahead and chanting
+an improvised pæan of praise until Pete seized him
+and rolled him over in the snow. Thereupon Hal
+retired to a safe distance and threw snowballs at Pete.
+He was not, however, a very good shot and, as a result,
+Tommy and Allan were hit more often than their companion.
+It ended with the three joining forces against
+the obnoxious Hal and chasing him all the way down
+Poplar Street.</p>
+
+<p>When he reached Mrs. Purdy’s, in his retreat, he
+withdrew into Allan’s room, locked the door, and sent
+Two Spot, a white handkerchief tied around her neck,
+out by way of a window, to treat with the besiegers.
+The flag of truce was respected. Hal opened the window
+and agreed to surrender if allowed to march forth
+from the citadel with colors flying, and his terms were
+accepted. He retired from view and presently reappeared
+in Allan’s plaid dressing-gown, and holding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>
+aloft a Hillton flag. Silently and proudly he marched
+forth and twice paraded the piazza. Then the enemy,
+violating the rules of warfare, fell upon him as one
+man, and he was borne, struggling and kicking, back
+into the citadel and deposited on the couch.</p>
+
+<p>Allan returned to the front yard and rescued his
+handkerchief, which was trailing in the snow as Two
+Spot chased an imaginary mouse around the bare and
+solitary rose-bush. Tommy had meanwhile poked the
+fire into a blaze, and victors and vanquished drew up
+to it, while Pete smoked the pipe of peace and the
+others ate sweet chocolate, which, as Tommy pointed
+out, represented the fruits of victory.</p>
+
+<p>Two Spot sat on Pete’s broad knee and purred and
+blinked at the flames and occasionally stuck her claws
+tentatively through Pete’s trousers as a proof of her
+affection. And everybody felt very jolly and comfortable
+until the six-o’clock bell sent them to prepare for
+dinner.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</a><br />
+<small>IN THE “CORRAL”</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>While the snow kept piling itself up and the Midyears
+were still racking fellows’ brains, the call came
+for candidates for the relay team to run against Robinson
+at the Boston indoor meeting. And simultaneously
+the outdoor track was shoveled free of snow and
+fellows whose ambitions pointed toward the winning
+of pewter mugs trotted out in the afternoons, when the
+mercury was down to zero, and sped around the track
+with their bare legs looking very pink and cold. Kernahan
+had induced Allan to enter for both the mile
+and the two mile, and the latter was one of the most
+indefatigable of those who daily risked death by
+freezing.</p>
+
+<p>He was glad to be able to stretch his legs again,
+was Allan. He had begun to wonder whether the muscles
+hadn’t forgotten how to work. He had his first
+mile trial a week after the beginning of practise and
+a fortnight before the date of the meeting.</p>
+
+<p>The result wasn’t especially satisfactory; 4:56<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>
+was not anywhere near record time for that track, while
+it was more than twenty seconds slower than what it
+must be to give him a chance at winning a place. But
+Kernahan seemed in nowise discouraged. Instead, he
+told Allan he had done well enough for a starter, and
+promised to give him a trial at the two miles a week
+later.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the relay candidates were tested and
+sifted, the candidates for the field events practised
+daily in the gymnasium, and athletic activity seized
+upon the college. The baseball cage resounded with
+the thump of the balls and the cries of the players, the
+rowing-room gave forth strange sounds of an afternoon,
+and the basket-ball team, undisputed lords of the gymnasium
+floor for two months, were hustled into a corner
+and given scant attention.</p>
+
+<p>And yet, in spite of all these hints, Winter was
+strangely dense. Instead of folding up his blanket
+of snow and taking himself off, he showed no sign of
+contemplated departure, but on the contrary tightened
+his icy grip on the world, and almost every day sent
+a new snow-storm to emphasize the fact that he still
+reigned.</p>
+
+<p>Afternoon practise on the track took place in every
+sort of weather. Sometimes it snowed so hard that the
+runners, as they swept around the far end of the track,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>
+were only indistinct blurs in the white mist. Sometimes
+the track was sheeted with a rough skim of ice,
+through which the men’s spikes broke imperfectly, and
+on such days the spills were numerous and the turns
+were things to be carefully negotiated. Sometimes the
+sun shone and the wind blew, straight and cold, out
+of the northeast; and such times were best, deluding
+one for a while, as they did, into thinking that winter’s
+sway was drawing to its end. But they were deceitful
+moments, and one could fancy old Winter shaking his
+lean sides with laughter as he drew the clouds together
+again and emptied a new shower of flakes upon the
+bleak world.</p>
+
+<p>But matters progressed. The relay team of six
+runners was formed, the sprinters and distance men
+worked themselves into condition, and the hurdlers,
+jumpers, vaulters, and weight men limbered up their
+muscles.</p>
+
+<p>A week before the meeting Allan was given a speed
+trial for the two miles. The track was in fairly good
+condition, and Rindgely and Thatcher made the pace.
+With Allan was another two-mile candidate, named
+Conroy. Allan took the lead at the start and held it
+for the first half mile. Rindgely went in then and
+made the pace for the next three-quarters, and then
+gave place to Thatcher, a half-miler. Conroy was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>
+lap behind at the half distance, and at the finish was
+entirely out of it. Allan found his sprinting ability
+sorely tried in the last two laps when Thatcher let
+himself out and Allan tried to keep up with him. But
+he finished fairly strong, and Kernahan slipped his
+watch into his pocket with a nod of approval.</p>
+
+<p>“Ten, one and an eighth,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>But that seemed slow time to Allan, who had entertained
+visions of doing the distance in something like
+9:50, and he said so to Billy.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, that’s good enough to give you a chance of
+a place,” he answered. “You’ve got three months yet
+before the dual meet, and Robinson’s best two-miler
+could only do&mdash;9:46, I think it was. You’ll get some
+experience at the Boston meet, if you don’t bring home
+a mug, and experience is what you need. You’ll have
+to get into your pace sooner down there or you’ll get
+crowded off the track. You try half a dozen starts
+Monday and try getting your pace in the first six or
+eight strides. You’d better run along now, and don’t
+be scarey of the cold water, my boy.”</p>
+
+<p>During that next week the class hockey championship
+was decided. The freshmen won handily from
+the sophomores by the score of seven goals to three in
+the first of the contests, and to Pete went the credit
+for four of the seven goals. He played magnificently.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>To be sure, as has been said already, he knew little
+of the science of the game, but what he lacked there
+he made up in vigor and enthusiasm. Thrice he was
+put off the ice for short periods, but this only caused
+him to work harder when he was allowed to re-enter
+the game. In the second half&mdash;the first period having
+ended with the score three to four in favor of ’07&mdash;he
+was played up into the forward line, and when he
+secured the puck and once got away with it, it was his
+until he had shot at the sophomores’ goal. If Pete had
+been able to shoot as well as he skated and dodged the
+enemy, the score would have been overwhelming.</p>
+
+<p>But Pete’s Waterloo came when the deciding game
+was contested with ’04. Pete’s playing was just as
+hard and fast as before, but the seniors had two or
+three players who, in the language of Tommy, “made
+rings around him.” Every time Pete tried one of his
+sensational rushes, some one or other of the discourteous
+enemy, carefully avoiding his body, stole the puck from
+under his nose. Pete endured it for a while untroubled,
+then he began to break hockeys. But the supply seemed
+unlimited, and the remedy wasn’t successful. Defeat
+fell to ’07’s share.</p>
+
+<p>They tried to tease Pete on the afternoon’s performance
+that evening, but Pete was invulnerable to
+gibes. The four had congregated in the “corral” and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>
+were hugging the stove closely, Pete sitting astride the
+stock saddle which, for want of a chair, he had lugged
+from its corner.</p>
+
+<p>“Must have cost you something for sticks,” Tommy
+suggested.</p>
+
+<p>“Must have cost the other fellows something,”
+laughed Hal. “I saw Rindgely lose three. You were
+a destructive chap, Pete.”</p>
+
+<p>“Rindgely was plumb crazy,” answered Pete, with
+a broad smile. “Every time he got a new stick, I
+bust it for him. I don’t just know whether that’s good
+hockey, but I know it worked mighty well. But
+Rindgely’s got it in for me, all right.”</p>
+
+<p>“He seems to have it in for me too,” said Allan,
+thoughtfully. “The other day he didn’t want to make
+pace for me when I tried the two miles, and acted nasty
+as you like afterward in the locker house.”</p>
+
+<p>“He’s a queer customer,” said Tommy. “A pretty
+good fellow to keep away from. I don’t mean that
+there’s anything wrong with him, you know, but he’s
+awfully uncertain. You never can tell how he’s going
+to take a thing. Just after recess I met him one day,
+and asked him if he’d taken in the St. Thomas Club
+Indoor Meet&mdash;he lives in Brooklyn, you know&mdash;and
+he nearly took my head off; said he wasn’t home Christmas,
+and implied that it was none of my business. I
+told him I didn’t care a rap where he was.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“That’s right, Tommy; don’t you let them monkey
+with you,” laughed Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, what did he want to jump on me for?”
+asked Tommy, warmly. “I didn’t care whether he
+went to the old meet or not; I just wanted to be polite.
+The reason I mentioned the meet was that he’d told
+about going the year before while he was at home, and
+I just happened to remember seeing something about
+it before Christmas. It’s an open meeting, you know,
+and they have a big card&mdash;weights, team races, boxing,
+and all sorts of stunts.”</p>
+
+<p>“What is he, a miler?” asked Hal.</p>
+
+<p>Tommy nodded.</p>
+
+<p>“Guess that explains his cutting up with you,
+Allan; you beat him in the fall, didn’t you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, with a good big handicap.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, he’s afraid you’re going to cut him out of
+a place in the dual meet.”</p>
+
+<p>“There’s no good reason why he should think so.
+He can beat me, I’m pretty sure. Besides, if Billy
+Kernahan has his way, I’ll be down only for the two
+miles at the dual.”</p>
+
+<p>“We’re going to have a dandy article on the indoor
+meeting this week,” said Tommy.</p>
+
+<p>“Wrote it yourself, eh?” suggested Hal.</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose it will be like last year’s, though,”
+Tommy continued, ruefully. “We had two columns,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>
+with everything figured out finely: who was going to
+do what, and which fellows would win places. And then
+it came out all wrong.”</p>
+
+<p>“Say, Thomas,” said Pete, when the laughter had
+subsided, “I don’t want to hurry you, but I’m getting
+the powerful hungers.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, Tommy, how about that dinner at the Elm
+Tree?” chimed in Hal.</p>
+
+<p>“He’s making money to pay for it,” said Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“No, I’m not,” answered Tommy, sadly. “That’s
+the trouble. You’ll have to wait a bit, Pete; I’m dead
+broke, honest Injun!”</p>
+
+<p>“All right; just so long as I get that feed. Better
+not put it off too long, though; I’m nicely conditioned,
+you know, since the Midyears, and there’s no telling
+what may happen to me.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s so,” Allan said. “A fellow that’s been
+drowned, suspended, and put on probation, all in two
+short months, is a pretty slippery customer.”</p>
+
+<p>“Say, Allan,” said Tommy, reminiscently, “do you
+remember the night we waited up here for that duffer
+to come home?”</p>
+
+<p>“The night he was drowned?” asked Allan.
+“Never’ll forget it. The way the wind howled and
+cut up was a caution; made me think of graveyards
+and&mdash;and corpses.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Me, too,” said Tommy. “I went back to the
+room and dreamed of Pete floating in my bath-tub,
+with his old smelly pipe in his mouth and his face all
+white and horrid. Every time he puffed on the pipe
+he winked his eye at me, and I woke up yelling like
+a good one.” Tommy arose from his seat and stood
+gazing into the flames. “It was a beast of a dream.”</p>
+
+<p>“Must have been,” Hal responded, sympathetically.
+Pete puffed silently at the afore-mentioned pipe and
+grinned heartlessly. Tommy glanced over at him and
+commenced an aimless ramble about the room.</p>
+
+<p>“I said then,” he went on, “that if Pete&mdash; Say,
+it’s getting beastly hot in here. Let’s have the door
+open.”</p>
+
+<p>In spite of the protests, he opened the portal into
+the narrow hallway, and continued his rambling and
+his talk.</p>
+
+<p>“I made up my mind then that if Pete wasn’t
+drowned, that if I ever saw his dear, foolish, homely
+face again, I’d&mdash;I’d&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Be a better man,” Hal suggested.</p>
+
+<p>“Learn to write English,” offered Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Pay your debts,” muttered Pete over his pipe-stem.</p>
+
+<p>“<em>I’d take a fall out of him!</em>” concluded Tommy,
+savagely. At the same instant he put a hand under<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>
+Pete’s chin, tipped him heels over head backward onto
+the floor, smothered his outcries by banging the saddle
+down over his face, punched him twice in the ribs&mdash;and
+flew! His forethought in opening the door saved
+him. As he dived through he slammed it behind him
+in Pete’s face, and the others heard four wild leaps on
+the staircase. Then all was still save for Pete’s
+chuckles. But stay! What sound was that from
+beneath the window; what doleful wailings broke upon
+the night air? They hearkened.</p>
+
+<p>“Cowardy, cowardy, cowardy cat!” shrilled Tommy.
+“Dare you to come down, Pete Burley!”</p>
+
+<p>Pete threw up a front window. There was a sound
+of hasty footfalls and an exclamation as Tommy collided
+with an ash-barrel. Then from far up the street
+came a last defiant challenge: “<em>O Fresh!</em>”</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI</a><br />
+<small>THE INDOOR MEETING</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>Mechanics’ Hall, Boston, was filled from floor
+to gallery, from doors to stage. The hum of voices,
+the fluttering of programs, the slow bellow of the announcer
+as, with megaphone at mouth, he gave the
+result of the events, made a strange medley of sound.</p>
+
+<p>From one corner of the floor to another there ran
+diagonally a lime-marked lane. Since half past seven
+white-trunked figures had rushed, half a dozen at a
+time, down this lane at top speed, had flung themselves
+panting, with outstretched arms, against the mattresses
+at the end, and had turned and trotted back to the
+dressing-rooms.</p>
+
+<p>The supply had seemed inexhaustible. Heat after
+heat had been run in the Forty Yards Novice, heat
+after heat in the Forty Yards Invitation, heat after
+heat in the Forty Yards Handicap, and now the hurdles
+were in place, the pistol was cracking forth, and
+white-clad forms were flying breathlessly over the bars
+and breasting the red string at the finish.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>At each report of the pistol the center gallery leaped
+to its feet, the hurdlers sprang into sight from below
+and sped away like arrows across the yellow floor.
+Hurdles crashed, the crowd shouted, the racers flung
+their arms at the tape and collapsed against the padded
+wall at the end of the lane, and the center gallery
+sank into its seats again and rustled its programs.
+And the announcer lifted his crimson trumpet:</p>
+
+<p>“Forty-five Yards Hurdles&mdash;fourth heat won by
+No. 390, No. 3 second; time, 6⅖ seconds.”</p>
+
+<p>There were dozens of colleges, schools, and associations
+represented there that night, and hundreds of
+competitors. There was the blue Y of Yale, the crimson
+H of Harvard, the red C of Cornell, the green D
+of Dartmouth, the purple E of Erskine, the brown R
+of Robinson, and many, many other insignia flaunted
+on heaving breasts.</p>
+
+<p>Thirty-odd officials, in immaculate evening clothes,
+lent a note of sobriety to the colorful scene, while a
+blue-coated policeman, whose duty it was to guard the
+long table of mugs and tankards, stood out intensely
+against the gleam and glitter of the prizes. On the
+big stage, the sloping bank of watchers looked from the
+floor like a bed of waving somber-hued flowers. From
+a corner of the balcony came the strains of brazen
+music.</p>
+
+<p>The jumping standards were set and the competitors<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>
+ranged themselves along the edge of the track, their
+sweaters and dressing-gowns of all colors thrown loosely
+about their bare shoulders. The Clerk of Course could
+be heard at the dressing-room door summoning the men
+for the next event:</p>
+
+<p>“All out for the two miles!”</p>
+
+<p>The sloping corners of the track rang with the
+footsteps of the candidates as they warmed up. There
+were fifteen entries, and among them were men from
+Harvard, Yale, Cornell, Massachusetts Institute of
+Technology, Phillips Exeter Academy, and Erskine
+College. Erskine’s representative was rather nervous
+as, with his number flapping at his back, he was assigned
+the place at the pole in the front line. Beside
+him was a Cornell runner whose prowess was well
+known, and Allan Ware marveled at his own temerity.
+Surely, he had no chance against the Cornell man, nor,
+for that matter, against several of the others. Well,
+he would run as well as he knew how and take his
+beating philosophically.</p>
+
+<p>The fact was, that the intense excitement was unnerving
+him. And that was why, when the starter
+had cried “Set!” Allan dashed forward, taking half
+the line with him. For this misdemeanor he and three
+others were promptly relegated to the last row. Then
+the command came again and the pistol cracked.</p>
+
+<p>At the first turn Allan had to fight to keep from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>
+being hustled from the track. After the next corner
+the runners had settled down to their work, a New
+York man making easy pace. Allan was well in front.
+The nervousness had left him now and he had no
+thought for the cheering spectators, for the blaring
+strains from the band, for anything, in short, save the
+struggle on hand. Lap after lap was reeled off until
+the race was half finished. Allan was still holding
+his own, with the consciousness of much power in
+reserve. The New York man still kept the lead, while
+close on his heels ran one of the Cornell contingent.</p>
+
+<p>Presently a Yale man fought his way up to Allan,
+and for half a lap they contested fifth place. Then,
+at a turn, the Yale man took the bank and slid into
+the lead, and Allan was sixth. He expected changes
+ahead. Of course the New York runner would not
+attempt to keep the lead much longer. He would drop
+back, Allan would overhaul the Yale chap, and in the
+last two laps he would call on the reserve power he
+was certain he had and fight it out to the finish.</p>
+
+<p>He looked back. The nearest runner was several
+yards away and didn’t appear dangerous. The relative
+positions remained unchanged for another lap, and then
+things began to happen.</p>
+
+<p>The Yale man dropped back, a second Cornell man&mdash;Allan
+recognized him as the one who had been beside<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>
+him at the start&mdash;spurted into third place, and Allan
+found himself still running fifth. He had lost count
+of the laps, but believed there could not be more than
+two left.</p>
+
+<p>So he started to crawl up. At the next corner,
+that by the dressing-rooms, he passed the Cornell man
+who had been second for so long; his duty was done
+and he was easing up on his pace. Down the stretch
+Allan gained on a Technology runner, but failed to
+pass him. Suddenly the gong announcing the last lap
+clanged. Allan glanced across the hall. The New
+York man was still in the lead, and was increasing
+that lead at every stride.</p>
+
+<p>Allan threw back his head and fought for third
+place. On the next stretch footsteps sounded behind
+him. At the first corner Allan just succeeded in keeping
+the lead; on the short stretch, a Yale man passed
+him and left him as though standing. It was all up
+now; he was fifth, and there was no chance of bettering
+his position. The leader, well ahead of the Cornell
+man, was taking the last corner. The Yale man who
+had just passed Allan was taking third place hand over
+fist. The Technology runner was plainly faltering,
+and yet, thought Allan savagely, here was he, with all
+sorts of power of lung and muscle left, dragging along
+behind him!</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He clasped his hands tighter and threw himself
+forward. Fourth place was better than fifth, he told
+himself, and at least he would not be beaten by a man
+who was ready to fall. So up he went, working as
+hard to beat out the Technology runner as though first
+place was at stake. And beat him he did, and turned
+off of the track and walked back to the dressing-room
+apparently as untired as when he had started.</p>
+
+<p>“You lost that race,” said Kernahan, “when you
+lost your place in the first row. But don’t you care;
+you’ve learned a thing or two, and one of them’s to
+wait for the pistol.”</p>
+
+<p>“But I’m not decently winded,” Allan complained.
+“I could run the mile now, and yet those chaps
+beat me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Sprinting ability is what you’ve got to learn, my
+boy. And with three months before the dual&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Hang the dual!” said Allan, petulantly. “I
+wanted to win this.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, there’s the mile yet,” said Billy, soothingly.</p>
+
+<p>But the mile brought Allan scant satisfaction. He
+was given a handicap of thirty-five yards, and, although
+this time he was careful to wait for the pistol, he came to
+the conclusion when half the distance was run that he
+might as well drop out of the race. There were almost
+fifty entries, and it seemed less a race than a fast-moving<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>
+procession. The turns were always filled with fellows
+elbowing and fighting, and after the half-distance it
+was hard to tell who the leaders were, so close they
+were to the tail-enders.</p>
+
+<p>Rindgely and Harris had also entered, and about
+the only satisfaction Allan was able to gather was derived
+from the fact that he had them beaten from the
+start. But the smaller handicaps allowed those youths
+had something to do with that. Allan never knew
+what number he was at the finish, and didn’t much
+care.</p>
+
+<p>In the dressing-room, Harris, Rindgely, Long, and
+Monroe&mdash;the latter the only Erskine entry who had
+won a place&mdash;were finding balm in the fact that Robinson
+hadn’t showed up in a single event.</p>
+
+<p>“Wait until the team race, though,” said Rindgely,
+darkly. “That’s where they’ll get us; you’ll see.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t believe it,” said Harris, stoutly. “When
+does it come off?”</p>
+
+<p>“After this, I think,” said Long. “Who’s got a
+program?”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s right,” said Monroe. “Hello, Ware!
+Say, that was a perfect mess, wasn’t it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, it was,” growled Allan. “I never knew
+whether I was running this lap or the last one.”</p>
+
+<p>“Or the one ahead,” added Harris.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Thought you were going to do something,” said
+Rindgely. “You had a good chance.”</p>
+
+<p>“Did I?” Allan responded, with intense sarcasm.
+“All right, only I didn’t know it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Let’s get out of here and see the Harvard and
+Penn race,” Long suggested. “Where’s our team?”</p>
+
+<p>“They’re out there somewhere. Thatcher says
+we’re going to get it put all over us,” said Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Thatcher’s an old raven,” said Harris, as they
+crowded out to where they could watch the race. “If
+he runs as well as he croaks, we’re all right.”</p>
+
+<p>Harvard secured the race with University of Pennsylvania,
+and though the result was not long in doubt,
+yet the crimson-clad runners were forced to better the
+record by three-fifths of a second. Then the clerk’s
+voice was heard at the dressing-room door:</p>
+
+<p>“All out for Erskine-Robinson Team Race! All
+out!”</p>
+
+<p>Of Erskine’s relay team, only Thatcher, the captain,
+was an experienced runner. The others&mdash;Poor,
+Gibbons, and Tolmann&mdash;had earned the right to represent
+the college at the trials, but for all of that were
+unknown quantities. They were all of them, Thatcher
+included, small men; Poor was little over five feet in
+height, and looked as though he had never had enough
+to eat. As they trotted around the track, getting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>
+warmed up, Robinson’s candidates overtopped them to
+a man. It was a big, long-limbed quartet that Robinson
+had sent, and had the result depended on height
+and length of leg alone the Brown would have had the
+race won at the start.</p>
+
+<p>Allan had secured a place near the front of the
+throng at the dressing-room door, and beside him,
+noticeable because of the evening clothes which he wore,
+was one of the officials, an inspector whose name was
+down on the program as “Horace L. Pearson,
+N. Y. A. C.” It was while the two teams were still
+warming up that Allan heard his name spoken, and
+turned to find Mr. Pearson in conversation with
+Harris.</p>
+
+<p>“Beg your pardon,” the inspector was saying, “but
+the man beyond you there is Ware, of your college,
+isn’t he?” But he wasn’t looking in Allan’s direction
+at all.</p>
+
+<p>“No, sir,” answered Harris, “that’s Rindgely.”</p>
+
+<p>“Sure of it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Quite, sir,” replied Harris, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>“Hm! I saw he was down on the card as Rindgely,
+but I thought maybe it was a mistake. What does the
+other man, Ware, look like?”</p>
+
+<p>“He’s here somewhere,” said Harris. And then
+his voice dropped and Allan, looking carefully away,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>
+felt the inspector’s gaze upon his face. He wondered
+what it might mean and why Rindgely had been mistaken
+for him, but his speculation was short-lived, for
+at that moment the pistol cracked and two runners,
+one with his white shirt crossed with a brown silk
+ribbon and the other bearing a purple E on his breast,
+sprang forward and fought for the lead at the first
+turn. The Erskine man was Thatcher and his opponent
+was named Guild. As they reached the other
+end of the track and sped past the dressing-room, conflicting
+shouts of encouragement from Erskine and
+Robinson supporters followed them.</p>
+
+<p>Thatcher had secured the pole at the start and had
+leaped into the lead at the turn. He was still ahead,
+but Guild was close behind him, his long strides seeming
+to be always on the point of taking him past, yet
+never doing so. Thatcher’s plan was plainly to hand
+over the race to the next runner of his team with a
+good, big margin of gain, trusting that, if unable to
+increase the advantage, the other Erskine men would
+at least hold what they had. But the big gain wasn’t
+forthcoming yet.</p>
+
+<p>As he neared the starting-point and the finish of
+the first of his two laps he strove desperately to leave
+his opponent, but it was not until the last lap was a
+third run that daylight opened up between the two.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span>
+The Robinson chap was proving himself a worthy foe.
+Half-way around the last lap there was ten feet between
+Purple and Brown. From there on down to the
+mark, where the next two men stood with eager, outstretched
+hands, Thatcher gained and gained; but he
+had commenced late, and when Guild touched the hand
+of his team-mate and fell over into the arms of the
+Robinson trainer he was only fifteen yards to the
+bad.</p>
+
+<p>Gibbons, short of leg and rather heavy of build,
+was flying over the first turn as though possessed, and
+behind him pattered Thorpe of Robinson. Down the
+stretch they flew, while the band was drowned by the
+shouts of the onlookers. It was a pretty contest that,
+even though to discerning ones, at least, the end was
+not in doubt. Gibbons looked like a small whirlwind,
+and gave every indication of killing himself before the
+second lap was finished, but Thorpe, with long and
+easy strides, ate up the interval between them foot by
+foot, and when the second lap began was in position
+to take the lead whenever he wanted to.</p>
+
+<p>Half-way down the side he did so. Gibbons fought
+him off desperately for an instant, but at the turn
+Robinson led by a yard. Then it was that Gibbons
+surprised even his trainer, for, instead of steadily
+dropping back, he refused to yield an inch and chased<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>
+Thorpe down to the finish like an avenging fate, crossing
+the line a bare yard behind him.</p>
+
+<p>That yard of advantage was five yards half through
+the next lap, Tolmann failing to prove a match for
+Brine of Robinson. Foot after foot and yard after
+yard opened up between them, and when the last lap
+began the Brown’s runner was an eighth of a lap ahead.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, that’s settled right now,” said Long, who
+had jostled his way to Allan’s side. “If we still had
+Thatcher we might stand some show, but I guess Poor
+can’t cut down that lead enough to make it look even
+close.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thatcher’s idea was all right,” said Allan, “but
+he didn’t know how good his man was. Robinson’s
+next man is her captain, I think, and I suppose he
+ought to be the best of the lot.”</p>
+
+<p>“He ought to be, but maybe he isn’t. Poor is a
+plucky little chap, and maybe he’ll give Jones a run
+for his money. Look at him!”</p>
+
+<p>At the other end of the hall Erskine’s last hope was
+leaning over the mark, one slim white arm thrust forward
+and one reaching impatiently back toward where
+Tolmann, swaying and gasping, was vainly striving to
+save the race. Poor looked plucky without a doubt,
+and when, after what seemed an age, Tolmann struck
+weakly at his hand and staggered off the track, he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>
+off like a shot, his thin legs twinkling like a salmon-colored
+streak as he followed the Robinson captain.
+The latter was almost a quarter of a lap ahead and
+was running easily, yet keeping a watchful glance upon
+his opponent. And, as it proved, that watchful glance
+was not thrown away.</p>
+
+<p>The band blared forth a two-step with might and
+main, supporters of the rival colleges clapped, shouted,
+and shrieked, and the runners’ shoes <em>tap-tapped</em> on the
+floor and pounded over the built-up corners.</p>
+
+<p>And then, of a sudden, a roar started among the
+audience and gathered volume and swept deafeningly
+across the great hall, and Allan, raising himself on
+tiptoes, gave a shout of joy. For just an instant or
+two after passing the second turn the Robinson captain
+had become inattentive to his pursuer, and in that brief
+moment Poor had literally eaten up space with his
+flying feet until now twenty yards would have spanned
+the distance between them. Jones, warned by the applause,
+leaped ahead, but Poor refused to yield an inch
+he had gained. More than that, he kept on gaining.</p>
+
+<p>The bell clanged the beginning of the last lap of
+the race and the Robinson runner swept over the line
+fifteen yards ahead of Poor, his long strides making
+the latter’s look ridiculously short by comparison.
+But if his strides were short, they were also rapid, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>
+Poor, his little, weazened face screwed into an agony
+of effort, chased his opponent down in the next half
+lap, and at the second turn was barely two yards behind.
+Jones was plainly worried. As he pounded around the
+corner his right arm was thrust out in an involuntary
+effort to keep his opponent from passing him. But
+Poor was not able to do that on the turn, and for the
+next stretch their relative positions remained unchanged.</p>
+
+<p>As they dashed by the group at the dressing-room
+door, Allan and Long and Harris and the others
+shrieked exhortations and encouragement to their runner.
+Then the next turn was taken, Jones stumbled,
+saved himself, and led the way down the last stretch,
+his head back, his mouth wide open, and his speed
+lessening at every stride.</p>
+
+<p>But if he was ready to give up, so, too, was Poor,
+who had run a quarter of a lap farther than he. And all
+the way down that stretch the Robinson captain struggled
+and faltered and the Erskine runner dogged his
+steps, unable to pass him. And then something happened,
+and so quickly that it was all over before the
+sight had time to register the meaning of it on the
+brain.</p>
+
+<p>Half-way over the turn, and twenty yards from
+the finish, Jones swayed, tripped, and rolled over to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>
+edge of the track, and Poor, less than two yards behind
+him, plunged blindly over him, sprawled and rolled
+along for three yards, and then, in some strange manner,
+found his feet and took up the running again.
+So, too, did Jones, but the larger man had fallen more
+heavily, and for an instant remained dazed upon the
+floor.</p>
+
+<p>That instant decided the race, for although he was
+up again almost before the audience had sensed the
+catastrophe, yet he had lost the lead. For the last few
+yards the two men, giddy, swaying, their heads fallen
+almost onto their breasts, strove weakly for the line.
+The next moment Poor threw out his arms and sprawled
+forward on his face across the chalk-mark and Jones,
+stumbling past him, fell, sliding on hands and knees
+to the edge of the track.</p>
+
+<p>Down by the dressing-room door Allan and the
+others were whooping it up joyfully, for Erskine had
+turned defeat into victory and won the relay by a scant
+three yards!</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII</a><br />
+<small>ALLAN LEAVES THE CLUB TABLE</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>March winds are freakish, prankish things, and
+the wind in the face of which Allan crossed the yard
+one morning a fortnight or so after the indoor meeting
+was no exception. He was on his way from Grace
+Hall to the Chemical Laboratory for a ten o’clock, and
+at the corner of the chapel he passed a couple of fellows
+whom a casual glance showed him he did not know.
+But that he was not a stranger to one of them was
+soon proven. The wind, scurrying around the corner
+of the chapel, tossed him the following fragment of
+conversation with startling distinctness:</p>
+
+<p>“Who’s that fellow, Steve?”</p>
+
+<p>“Ware, a freshie; he runs, or tries to. He was
+in the mile and two miles at Boston week before last
+and didn’t do a thing in either of them. Guess the
+Athletic Association will take his job away now. They
+just employed him to keep him in college, I guess.
+This thing of giving fellows work just because&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The words ended as suddenly as they had begun,
+so far as Allan was concerned, and he strode on to the
+laboratory. But his cheeks were burning and his heart
+was filled with wrath. For the first time he realized
+that his employment by the E. A. A. had a suspicious
+look, to say the least, while it was even probable that
+what the fellow he had overheard thought was really
+true. He was angry at the unknown youth for saying
+what he had, angry with Stearns for placing him in
+such a questionable position, and angry at Professor
+Nast for countenancing it. He wondered whether all
+the fellows he knew or who knew him believed as did
+the fellow he had passed, that he was knowingly allowing
+the Athletic Association to present him with money
+he was not earning.</p>
+
+<p>The blood dyed his face again, and he marveled at
+his blindness. Why had he not seen from the first that
+Stearns had secured him the place in the office merely
+to ensure his stay at college and his participation in
+the dual meet with Robinson? And hadn’t he more
+than half suspected all along? But no, he was guiltless
+of that charge. Credulous and blind he had been, but
+not dishonest. And dishonest he would not be now.
+He passed a miserable, impatient half-hour, and when
+it was over hurried to the office of the Athletic Association
+and found Professor Nast at his desk.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The professor was a mild-mannered little man,
+rather nervous and seemingly indecisive, but he was
+executively capable and had much sound common sense.
+He viewed Allan’s arrival with mild curiosity, nodded
+silently, and turned back to his work. But Allan didn’t
+allow him to continue it.</p>
+
+<p>“How much am I worth here, sir, if you please?”
+he demanded, unceremoniously. The chairman looked
+somewhat startled and disconcerted.</p>
+
+<p>“Why&mdash;er&mdash;that is a difficult question to answer,
+Mr. Ware. But if you&mdash;ah&mdash;consider that you are not
+being paid enough, I shall be glad to consider the matter
+of increased remuneration if you will make out an
+application in writing, stating&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, is my work here worth a dollar an hour,
+sir?”</p>
+
+<p>“Eh? A dollar an hour? I&mdash;er&mdash; But I think
+you are receiving that amount, are you not?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir; and that’s what the trouble is.”</p>
+
+<p>“Trouble? Suppose you explain what you mean.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I&mdash;” He hesitated for words an instant
+and then threw politeness to the winds. “You’ve made
+me do what isn’t honest, you and Stearns,” he charged,
+angrily. “You offered me the work here just to keep
+me in college, so I could run at your old meet, and
+you gave me a dollar an hour for work that any one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span>
+would do for half that money. Oh, I know it’s lots
+my fault,” he went on, silencing the professor’s remonstrances.
+“I ought to have guessed it, but I didn’t.
+I didn’t think a thing about it until to-day I overheard
+a fellow say in plain words that I was taking money
+I wasn’t earning. That’s a nice thing to have fellows
+say about you, isn’t it? And I dare say the whole
+college thinks just as he does, and&mdash;and&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Hold up a minute,” said the professor, finally
+making himself heard. “You’re accusing Mr. Stearns
+and me of pretty hard things. Let’s talk this over
+quietly. Sit down, please.”</p>
+
+<p>Allan obeyed. The professor swung around in his
+chair until he faced him, clasped his hands over his
+vest, and gravely studied Allan’s angry countenance.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m not sure that you&mdash;ah&mdash;have any right to
+come here and charge me&mdash;or Mr. Stearns&mdash;with unfair
+dealings. But I will accord you the right, Mr.
+Ware, for I see that there has been a mistake made.
+It was, however, a mistake and nothing more, I assure
+you. Neither Mr. Stearns nor I had any intention
+of deceiving you. Allow me to finish, please,” he
+added, as Allan made an impatient movement.</p>
+
+<p>“It has been the custom here, of recent years, to
+give employment in this office to men who have needed
+the work, and preference has been given to athletes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span>
+If they have been paid more for their labor than that
+labor was really worth&mdash;and I am ready to grant that
+they usually have&mdash;the money with which they were
+paid has always come out of the general athletic fund
+and not from the college. I am not&mdash;ah&mdash;prepared
+to defend this custom; on the contrary, sir, I think
+it a very bad one, and I for one should be glad to see
+it discontinued. In your case, now, Mr. Stearns came
+and saw me and told me you needed employment. The
+place was vacant and I offered it to you at the terms
+which have always been paid. You are not earning
+one dollar an hour, Mr. Ware, and if you feel that you
+have been deceived by us, I am very sorry. No deception
+was intended on my part, and I am sure Mr.
+Stearns believed that you&mdash;er&mdash;understood the situation.”</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t, though,” answered Allan, somewhat conciliated
+by the other’s manner. “I didn’t dream of it.
+I&mdash;I did think the work was rather easy considering
+the pay, but I thought maybe it would get harder, and
+that&mdash;that I could make up. If I had known the
+truth, I wouldn’t have had anything to do with the
+work.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am sorry, but, as I have said, there was no
+intent at deception. I offer you my apologies, and I
+am sure Mr. Stearns will be quite as regretful as I am.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span>
+If there is anything I can do to better matters, I shall
+be delighted to do it, Mr. Ware.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir, there is. I’d like to keep on with the
+work until I have squared myself.”</p>
+
+<p>“You mean you want to work without wages?”</p>
+
+<p>Allan nodded. The professor considered the matter
+for a while in silence. Then&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>“If you insist,” he said, “we will make that arrangement.
+But there is another method that may
+answer fully as well. Are you averse to continuing
+the work at&mdash;er&mdash;a just remuneration?”</p>
+
+<p>“N-no, I suppose not,” Allan replied. “I need the
+work, and if you’ll pay me only what it’s worth I’d
+like to go ahead with it.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m glad to hear you say so, for you have been
+very conscientious, Mr. Ware, and your services in
+the office have become valuable to me. I should dislike
+to make a change. Supposing, then, you continue
+at&mdash;ah&mdash;fifty cents an hour? Would that be
+satisfactory?”</p>
+
+<p>“Is it worth that much?” asked Allan, bluntly.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, it honestly is; it is worth quite that. Well,
+and in regard to&mdash;ah&mdash;let us say arrears; I am working
+on the compilation of a rather difficult lot of statistics
+which are to be incorporated into my report. You
+could assist me vastly with that matter and could work,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>
+say, an hour three evenings a week. In that way,
+it seems to me, you could very shortly ‘square’ yourself,
+as you term it, and could, to some extent, choose
+your own time for doing so. What do you&mdash;ah&mdash;think?”</p>
+
+<p>Allan considered the matter. It sounded rather
+easy, and since an hour ago he had grown to view
+easy tasks with suspicion. But he could find no ground
+for objection, and in the end he accepted the proposal
+gratefully and stammered a somewhat lame apology for
+his hasty discourtesy. The Chairman of the Athletic
+Committee waved it politely aside.</p>
+
+<p>“We will consider it settled, then,” he said. “This
+afternoon we will decide on the hours for the extra
+work. I’m glad you brought this matter up, Mr. Ware,
+for I think the time has come to do away with a
+pernicious custom. Good morning.”</p>
+
+<p>On his way to his next recitation Allan reflected
+somewhat ruefully that under the new arrangement
+there was one thing which had been lost sight of, and
+that was a public vindication. As long as he continued
+to work in the office fellows would continue to think
+he was receiving money not earned. To be sure, he had
+the consolation of a clear conscience, but it was hard
+to have the fellows he knew and whose respect he craved
+think badly of him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But there Allan was mistaken, for the story got
+out in short order&mdash;Tommy saw to that!&mdash;and it wasn’t
+long before he heard an account of the matter, in which
+he figured as a model of indignant virtue and a galley-slave
+to conscience, from a fellow whom he knew very
+slightly. After that he had no doubts about public
+vindication.</p>
+
+<p>It was not a difficult matter to find three hours in
+the evening each week for the new labor, and he found
+it, since he had a fondness for mathematics, far more
+interesting than the daily letter-writing and clerical
+work. But five dollars a week wasn’t ten, and so,
+despite the protests of Pete and all the other members
+of the club table, he left the hospitality of Mrs.
+Pearson’s and went back to the college dining-hall,
+where he could, by careful management, make his
+monthly bill ridiculously small. Pete commanded and
+implored to be allowed to “fix things up” so that Allan
+need not leave the table; he almost wept; but Allan
+was obdurate. Pete even threatened to “let the table
+go hang” and return with Allan to Commons, but was
+finally dissuaded when Allan pointed out that in all
+probability he (Allan) would very shortly be taken
+onto the training-table of the track squad.</p>
+
+<p>So Pete accepted the inevitable and draped Allan’s
+chair with some dozen yards of black crêpe, and allowed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>
+none to occupy it for a week of mourning. But Allan
+wasn’t a stranger to the table, for every Saturday night
+he returned there as Pete’s guest and sat in his old
+seat and was made much of by the crowd.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII</a><br />
+<small>AN ALARM OF FIRE</small></h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Mary had a little dog,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">It was a noble pup;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">’Twould stand upon its front legs<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">When you’d hold its hind legs up!”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Thus warbled Tommy as, having kicked the door
+shut, he subsided into one of Allan’s chairs by sliding
+over the back. Allan pushed his book away, yawned
+dismally, and looked over at his visitor mutely questioning:</p>
+
+<p>“Where’s Pete?” Tommy demanded.</p>
+
+<p>“Am I his keeper?” asked Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re his <i>fidus whatyoucallit</i>. Seen him to-night?”</p>
+
+<p>“No; maybe he’s studying.”</p>
+
+<p>“Careless youth,” muttered Tommy. “Say, did
+you hear about Pete and Bœotia?”</p>
+
+<p>“No; who’s Bœotia, anyway?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, it’s that place in&mdash;er&mdash;ancient history, you
+know. It was at recitation this morning; Professor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span>
+Grove asked Pete how Bœotia was situated. Pete
+wasn’t prepared, but he thought he’d make a bluff at it.
+So he gets up and drawls out in his cheerfully idiotic
+way, ‘Oh, he had a pretty good situation, but he
+lost it.’”</p>
+
+<p>“What did old Grove say?” laughed Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I wasn’t there and can’t tell you. I’m
+going to settle my debts this week, and we’ll have that
+dinner at the Elm Tree Saturday night, if that’s all
+right for you fellows.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s all right for me,” said Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“The funny part of it is,” Tommy went on, smiling,
+“that I made just enough to pay for the dinner
+out of the reports of Pete’s drowning which I sent to
+the Boston paper. I got my account yesterday.”</p>
+
+<p>“Tell that to Pete,” laughed Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m going to. Where’s the angel child?”</p>
+
+<p>“The angel child is probably out in the kitchen.
+I can’t keep her at home since vacation; she found out
+then where the grub comes from.”</p>
+
+<p>“I think she ought to go to the dinner with us,
+don’t you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, scarcely. Let’s go down to the ‘Ranch’
+and see what Pete’s up to. I can’t study any more
+to-night.”</p>
+
+<p>Town Lane was as dark as pitch save at remote<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>
+intervals where street lamps flickered half-heartedly,
+and to reach Pete’s domicile at night without breaking
+a limb was quite a feat. To-night nothing more exciting
+occurred than a collision with a stable door which
+was swinging open, and the two reached the corner to
+find Pete’s windows brightly illumined. Tommy, being
+in a musical mood, took up a position underneath and
+broke into song.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Here ’neath thy window, Love, I am waiting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Waiting thy sweet face to see,”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="noi">he declared, strumming the while on an imaginary
+guitar. But the verse came to an end without signs
+from the window, and so they climbed the stairs. The
+“Ranch” was deserted. But even as they assured
+themselves of the fact by looking into the bedroom,
+soft footfalls sounded on the stairs from the third-story
+loft, and a moment after Pete, looking like a conspirator,
+crept into the front room and softly closed the door
+behind him. Then his eyes fell on Allan and Tommy,
+and he grinned mysteriously.</p>
+
+<p>“Where’d you come from?” Allan demanded.</p>
+
+<p>“Up-stairs.”</p>
+
+<p>“What’s doing up there?” asked Tommy, suspiciously.</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing at all.” But the grin remained. Tommy
+sniffed.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“I’m going up to see,” he threatened.</p>
+
+<p>Pete sank into a chair, took up his pipe, and spread
+his hands apart as if to say, “Please yourself; believe
+me or not, as you like.” Then he lighted his pipe.</p>
+
+<p>“What have you done with your coat?” asked
+Allan. “And why are you festooned with cobwebs and
+decorated with dust?”</p>
+
+<p>“<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Quien sabe?</i>” answered Pete, shrugging his broad
+shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>“Just the same, you’ve been up to something,”
+declared Allan, sternly. “And you’d better ’fess up.”</p>
+
+<p>“Huh!” grunted Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“Out with it!” commanded Tommy.</p>
+
+<p>“Huh!” said Pete again.</p>
+
+<p>“Sounds like a blamed old Indian, doesn’t he?”
+asked Tommy, disgustedly. “Well, don’t you come
+and beg me to intercede with the Dean for you.”</p>
+
+<p>The smile on Pete’s face broadened; he chuckled
+enjoyably; but commands and demands failed to move
+him to confession, and, after arranging for the dinner
+at the Inn, Allan and Tommy took their departure,
+Pete, for some reason and contrary to custom, making no
+effort to detain them. As they clambered down the
+steep stairs, Pete called after them:</p>
+
+<p>“Say, it would be a great night for a fire,
+wouldn’t it?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Fire?” repeated Allan. “Why?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, such a dandy old high wind,” answered Pete.
+“Well, <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">adios</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“Wonder what he meant?” said Allan, on the way
+back. “It would be just like him to get into another
+mess.”</p>
+
+<p>“About time,” chuckled Tommy. “Good night.”</p>
+
+<p>Allan went to bed soon after eleven, with Two Spot,
+according to nightly custom, curled up against the
+small of his back. For a while he lay awake listening
+to the howling and buffeting of the wind, but presently
+sleep came to him.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed hours later, but was in reality scarcely
+thirty minutes, when he awoke abruptly with the wild
+clanging of a bell in his ears. He sat up and listened.
+It was undoubtedly the fire-bell, and had he had any
+doubt about it the sound of running footsteps in the
+street would have convinced him at once.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment he weighed the prospective excitement
+of a conflagration against the comforts of the
+warm bed. In the end the fire offered greater inducements,
+and he leaped out of bed, lighted the gas, and
+tumbled into his clothes. And all the time the fire-bell
+clanged and clashed on the March wind. Leaving Two
+Spot to the undisputed possession of the bed, Allan left
+the house and looked expectantly about him. But there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span>
+was no glow in the sky in any quarter; darkness reigned
+everywhere save about the infrequent street lamps.
+Here and there persons were running toward the fire-house,
+and Allan followed their example.</p>
+
+<p>Down Main Street he hurried, entered the yard
+back of the library, and cut across in the face of the
+buffeting wind to the beginning of Town Lane. When
+he reached Elm Street he was part of a steady stream
+of excited citizens and students, all hurrying anxiously
+toward where, half-way down the narrow thoroughfare,
+the brazen alarum was pealing deafeningly forth. And
+then, for the first time since he had awoke, Allan recollected
+Pete and his mysterious observation regarding
+fire. And instantly he knew that Pete and the fire-bell
+were in some way working mischief together.</p>
+
+<p>Pete’s rooms were in the building at the corner of
+Center Street, and next door stood the fire-house, a
+plain two-storied building, surmounted by a twenty-foot
+tower, at the top of which hung the bell. When Allan
+reached the scene the windows of Pete’s front room
+were brilliantly illumined, and from one of them hung
+Pete, exchanging lively salutations with friends in the
+throng below.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment Allan’s suspicions were deadened.
+In front of the fire-house the crowd jostled and craned
+their necks as they stared wonderingly upward to where<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>
+the tower showed indistinctly against the midnight sky.
+On every hand were heard bewildered ejaculations,
+while members of the volunteer fire department ran
+hither and thither, questioning, suggesting, and plainly
+distracted. The big doors were open and inside the
+engine and hose-cart, horses in harness, were ready to
+sally forth the instant any one discovered where the fire
+was or why the bell clanged on and on without apparent
+reason. Through a hole in the ceiling a big rope
+descended, and at every clang of the bell it rose and
+fell again, and the building shook with the jar.</p>
+
+<p>“Hello, Allan! Isn’t this great?” shouted a voice
+in his ear, and Allan turned to find Hal, arrayed principally
+in a plaid dressing-gown and white duck cricket
+hat, grinning from ear to ear.</p>
+
+<p>“But&mdash;but what is it?” asked Allan, bewildered.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t know; nobody knows. There’s the bell and
+there’s the rope; no one’s pulling it; must be spooks!
+Isn’t it jolly?” And Hal leaped with delight and
+thumped Allan on the back.</p>
+
+<p>“But why does the bell ring?” he asked, following
+the general example and staring upward at the
+tower.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s it! Why does it? Some say it’s the wind,
+but that’s poppycock, you know. What I think is that
+some one’s got a rope hitched to the bell and is pulling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>
+it from the back of the building somewhere; that’s what
+I think.”</p>
+
+<p>“But haven’t they been around there to see?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, but they’re so excited and fussed they
+wouldn’t know a rope if they fell over it. Some one’s
+having a lark, you can bet on that. Isn’t it a picnic?
+Just hear the old bell! Wow! Listen to that!”</p>
+
+<p>Allan put his mouth to Hal’s ear and whispered
+a single word. Hal started, shot a glance at Pete’s
+window and Pete himself, and burst into a gale of
+laughter.</p>
+
+<p>“D-d-do you think so?” he gasped. “But&mdash;how
+could he? Look, there he is at the window. O Pete!”</p>
+
+<p>“Hush up!” whispered Allan. “They’ll get onto
+it. Look, they’ve got a ladder! They’ll find out what’s
+up now, all right, because the rope will be hanging.
+We ought to warn Pete; come on!”</p>
+
+<p>They wormed their way through the crowd, exchanging
+shouts of salutation with acquaintances as
+they went, until they were under Pete’s window.
+There they found Tommy, note-book in hand, looking
+very important and excited.</p>
+
+<p>“O Pete!” shouted Allan. “Is your door unlocked?”</p>
+
+<p>“Hello, partner!” returned Pete in a happy
+bellow. “Isn’t this great? Here I sit at my parlor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>
+window and watch all the wealth, beauty and fashion
+of our charming metropolis. And, say, ain’t the racket
+fine? This is more noise than I’ve heard since a dynamite
+blast went off behind my back! Why, it’s almost
+like living in a city! Say, if you fellows&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“We want to come up,” shouted Allan. “Unlock
+your door.”</p>
+
+<p>Pete shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>“Not on your life, partner; I’ve only got my nightie
+on. Want me to freeze to death?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, put something on,” said Allan anxiously,
+“and come down.”</p>
+
+<p>“’Fraid of catching cold. Besides, I must turn in
+now; I’m losing my beauty sleep.”</p>
+
+<p>“But&mdash;but, Pete, they’re&mdash;they’re putting up a
+ladder!” blurted Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Are they?” asked Pete imperturbably. “Well,
+I’m not coming down to help ’em. They’ll have to get
+on without me, my boy. Hello, Hal, that you? Ain’t
+this wano? Such a cheerful&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>Pete’s roar stopped suddenly, as did the noise of the
+crowd. Two firemen half-way up the ladder at the
+front of the building nearly fell off. For a sudden appalling
+silence gave place to the uproar! The bell was
+still!</p>
+
+<p>After a moment of startled surprise&mdash;for at first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>
+the silence seemed louder than the noise&mdash;every one
+broke into incoherent laughter and ejaculations. The
+men on the ladder paused, undecided, and finally slid
+back to earth to hold a consultation.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, ain’t that a shame!” lamented Pete. “Just
+when I was beginning to get sleepy! Now I’m all woke
+up again. Say, you chaps, wait a bit and I’ll slip something
+on and let you up.” He disappeared from the
+window and was gone some time. Then the key scraped
+in the door at the foot of the stairs and Allan, Hal, and
+Tommy slipped through. Pete, standing guard, locked
+the portal in the faces of several undesired fellows and
+followed them up-stairs.</p>
+
+<p>As Allan entered the room he glanced eagerly around.
+Just what he expected to find would have been hard to
+say, but whatever it was he didn’t find it. The room
+presented its usual appearance, save that articles of
+apparel lay scattered widely about just wherever Pete
+had happened to be when they came off. Pete locked
+the room door, took his pipe from the table and proceeded
+to fill it. The others looked about the room, looked at
+each other and looked at Pete. Pete scratched a match,
+lighted his corn-cob and smiled easily back. Allan sank
+into the easy chair.</p>
+
+<p>“How&mdash;how did you do it?” he gasped.</p>
+
+<p>“Do it? Do what?” asked Pete, blowing a cloud<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>
+of smoke toward the open window. Outside sounds told
+of the dispersing of the throng.</p>
+
+<p>“You know what,” said Allan.</p>
+
+<p>Pete went to the window, called good night to an
+acquaintance, closed the sash and ambled back, smiling
+enjoyably.</p>
+
+<p>“Wasn’t it moocha wano?” he asked. “Just answer
+me that, Allan. Did anything ever go off more
+beautifully, with more&mdash;er&mdash;<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">éclat</i>, as we say in Paree?
+Is your Uncle Pete the boss, all-star bell-ringer? Did
+you get on to the expression, the&mdash;the phrasing? Did
+you&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Shut up, Pete,” said Hal, grinning. “Tell us
+about it. Go on, like a good chap.”</p>
+
+<p>“There’s little to tell,” said Pete with becoming
+modesty. “Up there”&mdash;he pointed toward the ceiling&mdash;“is
+a loft. Over there is a bell. Bring a rope from
+the bell into the back window of the loft, down-stairs
+and through that door and&mdash;there you are! Quite
+simple.”</p>
+
+<p>“But, look here,” piped up Tommy. “You were
+at the window when the bell was doing its stunts. How&mdash;how
+was that?”</p>
+
+<p>“Simple, too,” answered Pete, waving aside a cloud
+of smoke. “There was a noose in the end of the rope
+and the noose fitted over my knee as I kneeled on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>
+floor. It was hard work and I guess the hide’s about
+wore off, but it was all for the sake of Art.”</p>
+
+<p>The three deluged him with questions simultaneously,
+and Pete, sitting nonchalantly on the edge of
+the table, answered them as best he could.</p>
+
+<p>“But how about the rope?” asked Allan finally.
+“They’ll see it and trace it through the window.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, no, they won’t, because, my boy, it isn’t there
+any longer. When I said I’d put something on and let
+you fellows in, I cut it off at the foot of the tower and
+brought my end of it away. They’ll find a rope there,
+all right, but they’ll never guess it went through the back
+window. Besides, I can prove an alibi,” he ended, with
+a generous and virtuous smile.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s so,” answered Tommy. “We saw you at
+the window.”</p>
+
+<p>“When the bell was ringing,” added Hal.</p>
+
+<p>“And I saw both his hands,” supplemented Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, I meant you should,” said Pete. Going to
+the trunk he took from behind it the lariat which usually
+hung on the wall, and from one end of it detached a few
+feet of hemp rope. This he put into the stove. The
+lariat he replaced upon the wall.</p>
+
+<p>“Thus we destroy all evidences of guilt,” he said.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX</a><br />
+<small>PETE PUTS THE SHOT</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>For a few days following the mysterious serenade on
+the fire-bell there was an epidemic of mild colds throughout
+the college; and as each fellow who had a cold was
+able and eager to tell&mdash;through his nose&mdash;what had happened
+at the fire-house, it would seem that there might
+have been some connection between the affliction and the
+midnight occurrence. But no serious illness resulted,
+and so we may leniently assert that no harm came of
+Pete’s joke.</p>
+
+<p>Not that any one knew it was Pete’s joke, save the
+quartet and one other. The one other was Mr. Guild,
+out at Hillcrest. When morning came the severed rope
+hung in plain sight from the bell tower, and although
+it told clearly what had happened, yet it threw no light
+on the identity of the culprit. Of course every one&mdash;townfolk
+especially&mdash;declared it to have been a student
+prank, but none suspected Pete Burley, for it apparently
+entered no one’s head that the bell might have been
+rung from Pete’s room. The perpetrator was popularly
+believed to have been hidden in some near-by yard.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>That Pete’s innocence was never questioned was a
+lucky thing for Pete, because the faculty would have
+viewed the affair in the light of a last straw, and Pete’s
+connection with Erskine College would have ceased then
+and there. As it was, the affair remained forever a
+mystery.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Guild heard the story a few days later, when
+the quartet drove out to Hillcrest in a rattle-trap carryall
+and spent the afternoon. This was the second visit
+the fellows had made to the owner of the ducks since
+the beginning of the term. Mr. and Mrs. Guild had
+been in the South for two months, and after their return,
+in February, the snow had made the roads almost impassable.
+Hal and Tommy had been introduced on the
+occasion of the previous visit and had been cordially
+welcomed. Mr. Guild enjoyed the story of the bell-ringing
+and laughed heartily over it.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s a better joke, Burley,” he said, “than that
+drowning business of yours. That was a trifle too grim
+to be wholly humorous. And when I remember the way
+I had the river dragged for your lifeless body, and expected
+to see it every time the men drew the grapples up,
+I&mdash;well, I hope your dinner the other night choked you.”</p>
+
+<p>But it hadn’t. The dinner had passed off very successfully,
+and save that Hal had partaken of too much
+pie and had sat up in bed until three o’clock in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>
+morning well doubled over, it had been an affair worthy
+of being long remembered. Even Pete, who claimed the
+right to be severely critical, had found nothing to find
+fault with, save, perhaps, the fact that in winning the
+banquet he had unwittingly provided the money to pay
+for it!</p>
+
+<p>The second week in March witnessed the return of
+the track team candidates to practise in the gymnasium.
+Spring was unusually late that year&mdash;perhaps you recollect
+the fact?&mdash;and several feet of snow hid the ground
+until well toward the last of March. But meanwhile
+the candidates, thirty-eight in number, were divided
+into two squads and were daily put through chest-weight
+and dumb-bell exercises and sent careening around the
+running track. Allan, who since his failure to “make
+good”&mdash;in the language of the undergraduate&mdash;had
+been somewhat disgusted and down in the mouth, with
+the return to practise experienced a renewal of faith in
+himself and his abilities. Billy Kernahan laughed at
+his pessimistic utterances and assured him that outdoor
+work would do wonders for him.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Hal was hard at work with the freshman
+baseball squad and was turning out to be something of
+a “star” at the bat. Tommy, who during the winter
+months had found much difficulty in keeping himself
+busy, was as happy as a lark, since the awakening activity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>
+in athletics, the class debates and the final debate
+with Robinson afforded him opportunities to perform
+wonderful feats of reporting and gave him almost as
+much work to do as even he could desire.</p>
+
+<p>Pete was left forlorn. Of the quartet he alone had
+no interest in life save study; and without wishing to
+be hard on Pete, I am nevertheless constrained to say
+that in his case study as an interest was something of a
+failure. He managed to stand fairly well in class, but
+this was due rather to an excellent memory than to any
+feats of severe application. When, toward the last of
+March, the baseball men and the track team went outdoors,
+he was more deserted than ever. Hal and Allan
+were inaccessible to him save in the evenings, and even
+then insisted on studying. As for Tommy&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>“You might as well try to put your thumb on a flea
+as to try and locate Tommy,” he growled aggrievedly.
+“I tried to meet up with him on Monday, and the best
+I could do was to find out where he had been last seen
+on Saturday. I haven’t caught up with him yet, by
+ginger!”</p>
+
+<p>“Why don’t you go in for something?” asked Hal.
+“Try baseball.”</p>
+
+<p>“Baseball!” grunted Pete. “What do I know
+about baseball? It would take me a month to learn the
+rudiments of the game. I’ll go out for spring football<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>
+practise next month, but that only lasts a couple of
+weeks, they say, and after that I guess I’ll pack up and
+go home.”</p>
+
+<p>“Try golf,” said Allan, with a wicked smile. Pete
+snorted.</p>
+
+<p>“I’d look well hitting a little ball with a crooked
+stick, wouldn’t I?” he asked disgustedly. “No; I
+may be a blamed fool, but I know better than to make
+such a show of myself as that.”</p>
+
+<p>In the end Pete found an interest, and the manner
+of it was strange. It happened in this wise.</p>
+
+<p>It was a few days before the class games. If his
+friends would not come to him, Pete could, at least, go
+to his friends. And so he had got into the way of
+walking out to the field in the afternoon and watching
+Hal on the diamond or Allan on the track. Sometimes
+he had a word or two with them; but at all events it
+was better, he thought, than moping about the college.
+The scene was a lively and, when the weather was bright,
+a pretty one. To-day the sky was almost cloudless, the
+sun shone warmly and there was a quality to the air
+that made one want to do great things, but yet left one
+content to do nothing.</p>
+
+<p>When Pete approached the field he saw that the
+varsity and freshman baseball teams were both at practise,
+that the lacrosse candidates&mdash;whose antics always<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>
+amused him&mdash;were racing madly about at the far corner
+of the enclosure, and that the track men were on hand in
+force. The scene was full of life and color and sound.
+Pete broke into song:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sam Bass was born in Indiana, it was his native home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at the age of seventeen young Sam began to roam;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He hit the trail for Texas a cowboy for to be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a kinder-hearted feller you’d never hope to see.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Pete’s voice was untrained but hearty. Had the
+tune been more melodious the effect would possibly have
+been more pleasing. As it was, the adventures of Sam
+Bass were chanted&mdash;as they always have been where
+Pete came from&mdash;in a melancholy reiteration of some
+half-dozen notes that threatened in the course of time
+to become terribly monotonous.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sam used to own a thoroughbred known as the Denton mare;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He matched her in scrub races and took her to the fair.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He always coined the money and spent&mdash;&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The song died away to a low rumble as Pete stooped
+and picked up a battered sphere of lead which lay on the
+sod before him. It was surprisingly heavy and he wondered
+what it was. Then his gaze fell on a lime-marked
+circle a few yards away, and it dawned upon him that
+the thing he held was a sixteen-pound shot, such as he
+had seen the fellows throw. Near-by the sod was dented<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span>
+and torn where the weight had struck. Pete hefted the
+thing in one hand and then the other. Then he raised
+it head-high and threw it toward the circle. It narrowly
+missed smashing the stop-board. Pete took up his song
+once more:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He started for the Collins ranch, it was the month of May,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a herd of Texas cattle, the Black Hills for to see.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>He picked up the shot again and looked about him.
+There was nobody near, and of those at a distance none
+was paying him any attention. So he laid his pipe on
+the ground, balanced the shot in his right hand, stepped
+to the front of the circle and sent it through the air. It
+described a good deal of an arc and came down about
+eight paces away. Pete was sure he could beat that,
+so he strolled over and recovered the weight, and, humming
+lugubriously the while, strolled back and tried it
+over again. This time it went a few feet farther and
+Pete was encouraged. He took off his coat and rolled
+his sleeves up, spat on his hands and seized that lump of
+lead with determination.</p>
+
+<p>Up near the finish of the mile, by the side of the
+track, Allan was in conversation with Kernahan. Suddenly
+he stopped, smiled, and pointed down the field.</p>
+
+<p>“For goodness’ sake,” he exclaimed, “look at Pete
+Burley trying to put the shot!”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Billy turned and watched. When the shot had
+landed, he asked:</p>
+
+<p>“Has he ever tried that before?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, indeed; Pete’s stunt is football.” Kernahan
+smiled.</p>
+
+<p>“Sure. I remember him now. Well, you try a few
+sprints of thirty yards or so, and I guess that’ll do for
+to-day. That stride’s coming along all right; don’t be
+in too big a hurry. To-morrow do a slow mile and a
+few starts. Then you’d better knock off until the
+meeting.”</p>
+
+<p>Allan nodded, turned and jogged away up the track.
+Billy strolled toward Pete. When he drew near his
+ears were greeted with a plaintive wail:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sam Bass was born in Indiana, it was his native home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at the age of seventeen young Sam began to roam;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He hit the trail&mdash;&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Away sped the shot, and fell with a thud fully thirty
+feet distant. Pete grunted. Billy’s face lighted. Pete
+wiped the perspiration from his brow with the back of
+one big hand and strolled after the shot. When he
+turned back he saw the trainer. He looked somewhat
+abashed and showed a disposition to drop the weight
+where he stood. But he thought better of it.</p>
+
+<p>“Taking a little exercise,” he explained, carelessly.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Billy nodded.</p>
+
+<p>“Good idea,” he said. “Don’t throw it, but push
+it right away from you as though you were punching
+some one. You get it too high.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I was just fooling with it,” said Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“I know; but you try it, and don’t let it go so high.”</p>
+
+<p>The first attempt was a dismal failure, the shot
+scarcely covering twenty feet. Billy’s presence embarrassed
+the performer.</p>
+
+<p>“Try it again,” said Billy. Pete hesitated. Then,</p>
+
+<p>“All right,” he said, cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p>This time he did better than ever, and Billy paced
+off the distance.</p>
+
+<p>“About thirty-two feet,” he announced. “That’ll
+do for to-day.”</p>
+
+<p>“Huh?” said Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s enough for this time. You don’t want to
+lame your muscles, if you haven’t done it already.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, my muscles will stand it,” answered Pete.
+“Do ’em good to get lame, I guess.” But Billy shook
+his head.</p>
+
+<p>“No, that won’t do. You leave off now and report
+to me to-morrow at four-thirty.”</p>
+
+<p>“What for?” asked Pete, in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>“For practise. We’ll try you in the meet next
+Friday.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“No, I guess not,” said Pete, shaking his head. “If
+you had a roping contest I might try my hand, but
+these athletic stunts have me beat.”</p>
+
+<p>“Never mind about that,” answered the trainer,
+“you do as I say. We need you, and we’re going to
+have you. Four-thirty, remember; and you’d better get
+some togs.”</p>
+
+<p>He nodded and walked away. Pete, staring after
+him, expressed his surprise by a long whistle.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX</a><br />
+<small>TRACK AND FIELD</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>The class games were notable that spring merely
+because they brought into sudden prominence a new
+and promising candidate in the shot-putting event, one
+Peter Burley, ’07, of Blackwater, Colo. To be sure,
+Pete didn’t break any records, nor did he come out first,
+but he contributed one point to the scant sum of the
+freshman class total by taking third place with a put of
+thirty-nine feet, four and one-half inches. Pete’s appearance
+in athletic circles was a surprise to the college
+at large, and those who remembered his prowess at football
+and took his size and apparent strength into consideration
+jumped to the conclusion that here was a
+“dark horse” that was going to carry everything before
+him and break the college record into minute particles.
+Personally, Pete viewed his participation as a good joke,
+but he wasn’t quite certain whom the joke was on.</p>
+
+<p>It was evident that he had it in him to become a
+first-rate man at the weights, and Kernahan viewed his
+“find” with much satisfaction. Erskine had for two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span>
+years past been rather weak in that line of athletics, and
+Billy had visions of developing the big Westerner into
+a phenomenal shot-putter and hammer-thrower; though,
+for the present, at least, he said nothing to Pete about
+the hammer, for fear the latter would mutiny. Pete
+had had only three days of practise under Billy’s instruction
+prior to the class games, but in that time he
+had mastered one or two of the principal points and had
+thereby added seven feet to his best performance of
+Monday.</p>
+
+<p>Billy was more than satisfied, the rival shot men,
+who had viewed Pete’s appearance among them at
+first with amused indifference, were worried, and Pete
+was&mdash; But truly it is hard to say what Pete was. The
+whole thing was something of a joke to him, and possibly
+mild amusement was his principal sensation, although
+he was probably glad to be able to please the trainer, who
+had taken a good deal of trouble with him, and to add
+a point to the tally of his class.</p>
+
+<p>But after the class games amusement gave place to
+surprise and dismay, for Billy informed him that the
+spring meeting would take place a week later, and that
+by diligent practise meanwhile he ought to be able to
+add another two feet to his record. Pete had been
+laboring under the impression that his troubles were
+over with the class games, and he promptly rebelled.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>
+But rebellion didn’t work with Billy; he was used to it.
+He had a method of getting his own way in things that
+was a marvel of quiet effectiveness; and so Pete concluded
+when, on the next Monday, he was once more out
+on the field “tossing the cannon ball,” as he sarcastically
+called it.</p>
+
+<p>All that week, up to the very morning of the spring
+track meeting, he stood daily in the seven-foot circle and
+practised with the shot, while Kernahan patiently
+coached him. Pete had the height, build and strength
+for the work, but it was the hardest kind of a task for
+him to grasp the subtleties of the hop and the change of
+feet. I am inclined to think that Billy’s oft-repeated
+explanations went for little, and that in the end&mdash;but
+this was not until he had been at practise for almost a
+month&mdash;he learned the tricks himself by constant experimenting.</p>
+
+<p>The actual putting was very soon mastered, but for
+weeks Pete’s best efforts were spoiled because he either
+overstepped the ring or left himself too far from the
+front of it. But when the spring meeting came he
+climbed to second place, Monroe alone keeping ahead of
+him. The latter’s best put was forty-three feet ten
+inches, and Pete’s forty-one feet three inches.</p>
+
+<p>Monroe seemed to Pete to view the latter’s efforts as
+beneath notice, and Pete resented that from the first.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>
+As was to be expected by any one knowing Pete, Monroe’s
+attitude was accepted as a challenge, and Pete
+vowed he would beat the college crack if he had to work
+all night to do it. From that time on Billy found no
+necessity for pleading; Pete was always on hand when
+half past four came around, and none was more earnest
+than he, none worked so hard. Pete had found his
+interest.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Allan had done fairly well in both meets.
+In the class games he had entered for the two miles and
+the mile, had won the first by a bare yard from Rindgely
+and in the latter had finished third behind Hooker and
+Harris. At Billy’s advice he relinquished the mile event
+thereafter and became a two-miler pure and simple.
+As Billy pointed out, either Rindgely or Hooker&mdash;and
+possibly Harris, who was coming on fast&mdash;was capable
+of beating Robinson at the mile, and it was better for
+Allan to put all efforts into the two miles, in which, so
+far as was known, Robinson at present excelled. Allan
+had hard luck at the spring meeting, getting away badly
+in the first place and taking a tumble in the next to the
+last lap that put him out of the race so far as the places
+were concerned. Conroy staggered in ten yards ahead
+of Rindgely, Harris securing third place, and Allan
+finishing a poor fourth.</p>
+
+<p>By this time the training table was started, and Pete,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>
+much to his delight, temporarily deserted the freshman
+club table up-stairs and moved to the first-floor front
+room, where Allan, Rindgely, Hooker, Harris, Conroy,
+Stearns, Thatcher, Poor, Leroy, Monroe, Long, and several
+others whose names we have not heard, were congregated
+under the vigilant eyes of Billy Kernahan. I
+don’t think Pete was properly impressed with the honor
+conferred upon him by his admission to the training
+table, but he was glad to be with Allan again and rather
+enjoyed the novelty of having his meals arranged for
+him. If it had not been that training required the relinquishment
+of his beloved corn-cob pipe, I think Pete
+in those days would have been perfectly happy.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, at another training table farther around
+the bend of Elm Street, Hal was one of the stars of the
+freshman nine. Of the quartet, Tommy only was not
+head over ears in athletics, but the fact didn’t trouble
+him a scrap. He had all he could do&mdash;and a trifle more&mdash;and
+was laboring, besides, under the harmless delusion
+that the college’s success on diamond, track, and
+river depended largely upon his supervision and advice.
+Whenever he had time, which wasn’t very often, he delighted
+to stand beside the lime-marked ring and offer
+gems of instruction in the art of putting the shot to
+Pete. And Pete, who was miserable without companionship,
+stood it smilingly for the sake of Tommy’s presence.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>
+In the evenings Tommy frequently found a moment
+or two in which to look up Allan or Hal and give
+them the benefit of his advice regarding playing second
+base or running the two miles. But those young gentlemen
+exhibited a strange and lamentable impatience, and
+Tommy quite often left their presence under compulsion
+or just ahead of a flying boot.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the spring vacation came and went. Of
+the quartet, Hal and Tommy went home, and Allan and
+Pete stayed at college, Allan from motives of economy
+and Pete because nothing better offered.</p>
+
+<p>After recess baseball held the boards and the varsity
+team was half-way through its schedule by the first week
+in May, and had but two defeats behind it. On the track
+the candidates were put through their paces six days a
+week. Erskine was almost sure of victories in the
+sprints, equally certain of defeats in the middle distances,
+expected to win the mile, was in grave doubt as to
+the two miles, and hoped to share the hurdles with her
+opponent. In the field events, the high jump alone was
+certain to yield a first to the Purple. The pole vault,
+broad jump, and both weight events were of doubtful
+outcome. As Tommy figured it out in the columns of
+“his” paper about this time, Erskine had a chance of
+winning by seven points. But as second and third
+places were almost impossible to apportion with any accuracy,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>
+this forecast was not of much value. The dual
+games with Robinson came on May 28th. A fortnight
+before that Allan’s work was stretched over six days, as
+follows:</p>
+
+<p>Monday, a two-mile run at an easy pace.</p>
+
+<p>Tuesday, a fast mile, followed by an easy three-quarters.</p>
+
+<p>Wednesday, a hard, fast mile.</p>
+
+<p>Thursday, two miles and a half in easy time.</p>
+
+<p>Friday, a mile and a half at medium speed.</p>
+
+<p>Saturday, a time trial over the two miles.</p>
+
+<p>This was hard work and lots of it, but Allan’s physical
+condition could scarcely have been bettered, and
+never, from the beginning of outdoor practise until the
+big event was over with, did he go “fine” for a moment.
+Twelve days before the meet Allan had his last trial,
+and when, still running strongly, he crossed the finish
+line, Billy’s watch clicked at 9:53⅝.</p>
+
+<p>Billy smiled cheerfully enough, but down in his
+heart he was disappointed. He had expected better
+things.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI</a><br />
+<small>SUNSHINE AND SHADOW</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>I have never found any one with sufficient courage
+to defend the winters at Centerport. At the best they
+are bearable, at the worst they are beyond description.
+Nothing any one might say would be too harsh to apply
+to what the residents call “a hard winter.”</p>
+
+<p>In short, from January to April the weather is
+everything detestable, and reminds one of a very bad
+little boy who has made up his very bad little mind to
+be as very bad as he possibly can.</p>
+
+<p>And then&mdash;as like as not between a sunset and a
+sunrise&mdash;spring appears, and it is just as though the
+very bad little boy had grown sorry and repentant and
+had made up his mind to be very, very good and sweet
+and kind, and never do anything to grieve his dear, <em>dear</em>
+parents any more. And there is a soft, warm breeze
+blowing up the river valley, the grass on the southern
+side of the library is unmistakably green, a bluebird, or
+maybe a valiant robin, is singing from a branch of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>
+big elm at the corner of the chapel, and there is a strong,
+heartening aroma of moist earth in your nostrils. And
+you know that from thenceforth until you leave the old
+green town the last of June your lines are cast in pleasant
+places and that it is going to be very easy to be happy
+and good.</p>
+
+<p>Well, I suppose there are other places where spring
+is superlatively pleasant, where the trees and sod are
+extravagantly green, and where youth finds life so well
+worth living. Only&mdash;I have never found them. And
+I doubt if there is an old Erskine man the country over
+who can recollect the month of May at Centerport without
+a little catch of the breath and a sudden lighting of
+the eye.</p>
+
+<p>For in those Mays his memory recalls Main Street
+and the yard were canopied with a swaying lacework of
+whispering elm branches, through which the sunlight
+dripped in golden globules and splashed upon the soft,
+velvety sod or moist gravel and spread itself in limpid
+pools. And the ivy was newly green against the old red
+brick buildings, the fence below College Place was lined
+with fellows you knew, and the slow-moving old blue
+watering-cart trundled by with a soft and pleasant sound
+of splashing water. Fellows called gaily to you as you
+crossed the yard, the muslin curtains at the windows of
+Morris and Sesson were a-flutter in the morning breeze,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>
+and from Elm Street floated the musical and monotonous
+chime of the scissor-grinder’s bells. What if the Finals
+were close at hand? The sky was blue overhead, the
+spring air was kind and&mdash;you were young!</p>
+
+<p>I think something of this occurred to Allan when,
+at a quarter of ten on a mild, bright morning three days
+before the dual meet, he crossed the street from his room,
+books under arm, and turned into College Place.</p>
+
+<p>Perched on the fence in front of the chapel were
+Clarke Mason, the editor of the Purple, and Stearns,
+the track team captain. After exchanging greetings,
+Allan dropped his books back of the fence and swung
+himself onto the top rail.</p>
+
+<p>The sun was pleasant, the ten o’clock bell would not
+ring for several minutes, and there was an invitation in
+the way in which Mason edged away from the post.
+Allan was a warm admirer of Mason, and the fact that,
+as was natural, he seldom had an opportunity to speak
+with him made him glad of the present opportunity.
+There was but one topic of overwhelming interest at
+present, and that was the track and field meet with
+Robinson. With two successive defeats against them,
+and the added result of the last football game still in
+memory, it is not strange that Erskine men had set
+their hearts on administering a trouncing to the Brown
+and regaining something of their old athletic prestige.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>
+The boat race and the baseball contests were too far
+distant for present consideration.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know when there’s been so much enthusiasm
+over the athletic meet as there is this year,”
+said Mason. “And it’s bound to tell, too. I’ve noticed
+that when the college as a whole wakes up and wants a
+thing it generally comes pretty near getting it.”</p>
+
+<p>“We wanted the football game badly enough,” said
+Stearns.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, just as we want all of them, but there wasn’t
+the enthusiasm there has been some years. I think we
+expected to win, and so didn’t get much wrought up over
+it. But next year&mdash;although you and I won’t be here
+to see it, Walt&mdash;I’ll bet the college will be red-headed
+over football; there’ll be mass-meetings and the band
+up from Hastings, and Ware here will be marching out
+to the field singing ‘Glory, Glory for the Purple’ at the
+top of his lungs. And the team will just naturally go
+in and win.”</p>
+
+<p>“At that rate,” ventured Allan, “we ought to lick
+Robinson on Saturday, for, as you say, the fellows are
+all worked up over it.”</p>
+
+<p>“I think we’re going to,” answered Mason, with
+quiet conviction. “But, of course, I don’t know so much
+about it as Walt here, and he says I’m off my reckoning.”</p>
+
+<p>Allan looked at the captain with surprise. All along<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span>
+Stearns had displayed a confidence that, in Allan’s case
+at least, had been a great incentive to hard work.
+Stearns frowned a little as he answered:</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, well, maybe to-morrow I’ll be hopeful again.
+A fellow can’t help having a spell of nerves now and
+then, you know.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, if it’s only that, we’ll forgive you,” Mason
+replied. “I thought maybe something had happened.
+Things have a way of happening, I’ve noticed, just before
+a meet; Jones lames his ankle, Brown is put on
+probation, Smith is protested, or something else unforeseen
+plays havoc.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s so,” said Stearns, emphatically, “and maybe
+one reason I feel uneasy is because nothing <em>has</em> happened;
+Robinson hasn’t protested any one and no one
+has sprained his ankle or got water on the knee. I
+think I’d feel safer if something of the sort had
+occurred.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I guess you’re safe now,” laughed Mason.
+“The men have quit practise and Robinson’s opportunity
+for protesting our best men has passed.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know,” said Stearns, doubtfully. “Something
+will turn up, you see if it doesn’t.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nonsense! How about you, Ware? Going to win
+the two miles?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m scared to think about it,” answered Allan, uneasily.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>
+“That Robinson crack can do better than I’ve
+succeeded in doing yet, and so I guess I’ll have to be
+satisfied with second place.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, Ware’s all right,” said Stearns, encouragingly.
+“He’s going to present us with five points, and we’ll
+need ’em!”</p>
+
+<p>This sounded more like the Stearns Allan was
+accustomed to.</p>
+
+<p>“They tell me that chum of yours, Burley, is going
+to do great things with the shot, Ware,” said Mason,
+questioningly.</p>
+
+<p>“I hope so,” Allan answered. “He can, all right;
+the only thing is whether he will get fussed and forget
+how; he’s funny that way.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, Billy thinks he’s a wonder, and says that by
+next year he’ll be able to give a foot to the best college
+man in the country. Well, there’s the bell. I hate to
+waste a day like this indoors, but&mdash;needs must when
+the faculty drives!”</p>
+
+<p>The trio slipped off the fence and went their separate
+ways, but before they parted Stearns drew Allan aside.</p>
+
+<p>“I say, Ware,” he said, “don’t say anything to any
+one about what&mdash;what you’ve heard. There’s no use in
+discouraging them, you know, and what I just said
+doesn’t amount to anything; I guess I’m feeling a bit
+nervous. You understand?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But Allan, as he crossed the yard to College Hall, in
+the tower of which the bell was clanging its imperative
+summons, couldn’t help feeling apprehensive and worried.
+It was so unlike Stearns to admit even the possibility
+of defeat. On the steps Allan ran against Pete,
+big, smiling, and serenely satisfied with life.</p>
+
+<p>“How’d you get on yesterday?” asked Allan, as
+they went in together.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, pretty middlin’,” said Pete, cheerfully. “I
+got within four inches of that cayuse of a Monroe.”</p>
+
+<p>“But you’ll have to beat him if you expect to win
+over Robinson,” said Allan, anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I’m not bothering about Robinson,” answered
+Pete. “If I can do up Monroe, that’s all I give a
+hang about!”</p>
+
+<p>The next afternoon, Thursday, Stearns appeared at
+Allan’s room, looking excessively cheerful.</p>
+
+<p>“Hello!” he said, as he sat down. “How are
+things?”</p>
+
+<p>“All right,” answered the other, wondering at the
+track captain’s errand. “How about you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Fine as silk,” he said. “Say, Ware, Robinson has
+sent a foolish letter, and asks the committee to look up
+your record. Of course,” he went on, carelessly and hurriedly,
+“it’s all poppycock, but they think they have a
+case, and so maybe you’d better walk over with me and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>
+see Nast about it; just explain things so he can write
+back to ’em, you know. Are you busy?”</p>
+
+<p>Allan, bewildered and dismayed, looked across at
+Stearns with wide eyes and sinking heart. The track
+team captain’s forebodings of yesterday flashed into
+memory, and it was with a very weak voice that he asked
+finally:</p>
+
+<p>“You mean that&mdash;that Robinson has protested me?”</p>
+
+<p>Stearns laughed carelessly, but something in the
+other’s tone sent a qualm of uneasiness to his heart.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, there’s no question of a protest,” he answered,
+“because the time for protests has gone by. But, of
+course, they knew the committee would investigate the
+matter, and that if everything wasn’t all right they
+wouldn’t allow you to run. But, of course, as I say, it’s
+all nonsense. They say you were entered in the mile
+run at the St. Thomas Club Meet, in Brooklyn, during
+vacation, and came in third. And&mdash;and there’s a silly
+newspaper clipping with your name in it. But, as I
+told Nast, you can explain that all right, I guess. Fact
+is, you know,” he continued, with a little annoyed laugh,
+“you’ve got to; we can’t afford to lose you, Ware.”</p>
+
+<p>Allan took his cap from the desk.</p>
+
+<p>“Come on,” he said, quietly.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII</a><br />
+<small>A NEWSPAPER PARAGRAPH</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>During the short walk across the yard little was said.
+Stearns now and then shot puzzled and anxious glances
+at Allan’s face, but the latter looked straight ahead of
+him, and Stearns learned nothing. In the office Professor
+Nast approached the subject at once. The Robinson
+authorities, he stated, had written, saying that Ware
+had won third prize in the mile event at an indoor meet
+of the St. Thomas Club, in Brooklyn, on the evening of
+December 26th, and in support of the contention enclosed
+a clipping from a newspaper. The clipping was handed
+to Allan, and he read, opposite a big blue pencil mark:</p>
+
+<p>“Mile run&mdash;Won by E. C. Scheur, N. Y. C. C. A.
+(45 yds.); second, T. Webb, St. T. A. A. (45 yds.);
+third, A. Ware, E. A. A. (50 yds.). Time&mdash;4m. 47s.”</p>
+
+<p>Allan returned the clipping calmly.</p>
+
+<p>“You understand,” said the professor, gently, “that
+the mere fact of your having entered this meeting without
+permission would not of itself render you ineligible
+on Saturday. The trouble is that the meeting”&mdash;here<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>
+he tapped the newspaper clipping with his pencil&mdash;“was
+not an amateur affair; the prizes were purses of
+money, and, being an ‘open’ meeting, there were, as
+you may see, a number of professionals participating.
+That&mdash;er&mdash;is the difficulty.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know nothing about it,” said Allan, quietly.</p>
+
+<p>Stearns sank back in his chair with a long sigh of
+relief. “I told you it was all nonsense!” he exclaimed.
+The professor himself looked well pleased.</p>
+
+<p>“I did not run in that meeting,” continued Allan.
+“I have been in Brooklyn but once, and that was fully
+six years ago.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am very glad to hear it,” said the professor,
+“very glad. Now, while I am not in duty bound to explain
+the matter to the Robinson authorities, yet it is
+better for various reasons to do so. And there is one
+thing&mdash;” He paused and tapped the desk frowningly.
+“About this clipping?” he asked. Allan shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m afraid I can’t explain that. Perhaps there’s
+another ‘A. Ware’ and perhaps ‘E. A. A.’ stands for
+something else besides Erskine Athletic Association.”</p>
+
+<p>“Stands for lots of things, probably,” said Stearns,
+a bit impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>“We might find that out,” mused the professor.
+“Where were you, Ware, that evening, the&mdash;ah&mdash;yes,
+the twenty-sixth of December?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“I was in New York, visiting my aunt on Seventy-third
+Street. I was in the house all the evening, except
+for about half an hour, when I went out on an errand.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, you couldn’t have crossed the river to Brooklyn,
+run a mile race and returned home in half an hour,”
+said the professor, lightly. “Now, will you get your
+aunt to write me a letter, stating those facts and assuring
+me that you were not and could not have been in Brooklyn?
+It is not, you understand, that I doubt your word,
+Ware, but I have my duties in these affairs and I must
+perform them. Simply a letter, you understand, will
+suffice.”</p>
+
+<p>“I will do my best,” Allan replied; “but&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Eh?” shouted Stearns.</p>
+
+<p>“But my aunt has left New York city and is
+traveling in the West, probably in California now. I
+shall have to find her address from my mother first, and
+by that time&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Now, look here, sir,” interrupted Stearns. “Surely
+Ware’s word of honor is enough in a case of this sort?
+It’s only a&mdash;a coincidence of names, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“For my own satisfaction Mr. Ware’s word is sufficient,”
+replied the chairman, with dignity, “but the
+rules require evidence, and I must have it. I only ask
+Mr. Ware to supply me with a statement from some
+person who knows of his whereabouts on the evening in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>
+question. Perhaps there is some other person who will
+do as well?” But Allan shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>“No, sir, I’m afraid not. My aunt lives alone except
+for the servants, and I saw no one I knew that
+evening. I will telegraph to my mother at once, and
+perhaps I will be able to get a letter from my aunt
+before Saturday. But it’s a pretty short time.”</p>
+
+<p>“Produce your evidence any time before the two-mile
+race is called,” said the chairman, kindly, “and it
+will be all right. And, by the way, a telegram will
+answer as well as a letter, if your&mdash;er&mdash;aunt is in the
+West. I am anxious to help you in every way possible,
+and I regret that the duties of my office require me to
+be or&mdash;er&mdash;seem exacting. Another thing, Ware; the
+Athletic Association will incur all the expenses of telegraphing
+in this affair; and you need not&mdash;ah&mdash;spare
+money. Good morning.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, it will be all right,” said Stearns, cheerfully,
+as they hurried together to the telegraph office. But
+Allan shook his head despondently.</p>
+
+<p>“No, I’ve felt ever since yesterday that something
+would happen to ball things up. And now it’s happened.
+And I don’t believe I’ll hear from my aunt in
+time. However, I wouldn’t have got better than second
+place, anyway. But I did want to run,” he ended,
+dolorously.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Nonsense! Cheer up! We’ll make the wires hum.
+We’ve got pretty near two whole days, and we can telegraph
+around the world fifty times in two days.”</p>
+
+<p>The telegram asking for his aunt’s address was duly
+despatched to his mother in New Haven, and after that
+there was nothing left to do save wait her reply. Allan
+parted from Stearns and went dejectedly back to his
+room. There he found Pete engaged in a carouse with
+Two Spot. They wouldn’t let Pete practise with the
+shot to-day, or again before the meet, and he was feeling
+quite lost in consequence. Allan wanted some one to
+unfold his tale of woe to, and he was glad to find Pete
+awaiting him. Pete, as the story was told, grew very
+indignant, and offered to punch Professor Nast’s head.
+But Allan finally convinced him that the chairman of
+the Athletic Committee wasn’t at all to blame.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s a beastly way to have things end, after you’ve
+been practising hard all spring,” he said, as he arose
+impatiently from his chair and strolled to the desk. A
+Latin book was lying on the blotter, with a slip of paper
+marking the page where Allan had been at work when
+Stearns appeared. Now he opened the book, crumpled
+the marker into a ball and tossed it disgustedly onto the
+floor. Then he drew up a chair and plainly hinted that
+he desired to study. Pete, however, refused to heed
+the hint.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“It’s a mighty foolish business,” he said, thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>Allan grunted.</p>
+
+<p>Two Spot had discovered the little ball of paper and
+was making believe that it was a mouse. She rolled it
+from under the couch with playful pawings and frantic
+rushes, and finally tossing it in the air, so that it fell
+at Pete’s feet, she stopped, blinked at it and suddenly
+fell to washing her feet, as though too dignified to do
+aught else. Pete stooped absent-mindedly and picked
+up the bit of paper, unfolding it slowly and smoothing
+it across one huge knee.</p>
+
+<p>“Seems to me,” he said presently, “you chaps have
+forgotten one thing.”</p>
+
+<p>“What’s that?” Allan asked, ungraciously.</p>
+
+<p>“To wire the St. Thomas Club people and ask them
+if you ran in their old meeting.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, that’s so,” said Allan, hopefully. “But,
+then, there was probably some one there named ‘A.
+Ware,’ and they’d just answer ‘yes.’”</p>
+
+<p>“Ask ’em if Allan Ware, of Erskine, ran in the
+meeting, and, if he didn’t, who the dickens the ‘A. Ware’
+was who did run. Tell you’ve got to know in a hurry,
+and that it’s blamed important.”</p>
+
+<p>“By Jove!” exclaimed Allan, “that’s a good idea.
+Funny we didn’t think of it, wasn’t it?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>For answer Pete grunted, as though he didn’t think
+it at all funny.</p>
+
+<p>“Hello, who’s ‘Horace L. Pearson, N. Y. A. C.’?”
+asked Pete, holding up the scrap of paper rescued from
+Two Spot, and which now proved to be torn from the
+program of the Boston indoor meeting.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know; why?” asked Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“I used to know a fellow of that name out in Colorado.
+He was sort of studying mining. What does
+‘N. Y. A. C.’ mean?”</p>
+
+<p>“New York Athletic Club. It’s probably the same
+fellow. I remember him now. He was the chap that
+thought Rindgely was me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Eh?” asked Pete. “How was that?”</p>
+
+<p>So Allan told him, and Pete grew very thoughtful
+as the short narrative progressed. When Allan had finished
+he asked:</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose these fellows that do stunts at the Boston
+meet go to pretty near all of them, don’t they?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I don’t know; a good many, I guess. Why?”</p>
+
+<p>“Just wondering,” answered Pete. “Come on and
+send that telegram. If you address it to the president
+or treasurer or something, it will do, won’t it?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll send it to the chairman of the Athletic Committee,”
+said Allan, seizing his hat. “I’m glad you
+thought of it, Pete. You’re some good in the world,
+after all, aren’t you?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Sure. See you this evening. I want to see
+Tommy. Where do you suppose I’ll find him?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, come on down to the telegraph office.”</p>
+
+<p>“Can’t; I want Tommy.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, try the Purple office; maybe he’s there.
+Don’t forget to come around to-night. I may get an
+answer from my mother by that time.”</p>
+
+<p>Pete was successful. To be sure, Tommy wasn’t in
+the office of the Purple, but Pete hadn’t supposed he
+would be; Tommy wasn’t so easily caught. But by
+tracing him from one place to another, Pete at last came
+up with him in the library, where he was eagerly securing
+data for an article on rowing which he was preparing
+for a Boston Sunday paper.</p>
+
+<p>“You see,” he explained, hurriedly, “I don’t know
+very much about rowing, but it wouldn’t do to say so,
+and so I come here and consult these gentlemen.” He
+indicated the half-dozen volumes by which he was surrounded.
+“If I only wrote what I knew, you see, I’d
+never make any money.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, that’s the first time I ever heard you
+acknowledge you didn’t know it all, from throwing to
+tying,” said Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, a fellow has to keep up a front,” said Tommy,
+shrewdly, with a grin.</p>
+
+<p>Pete slipped into the next chair, and for the next<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span>
+quarter of an hour they whispered fast and furiously.
+When Pete got up, he said:</p>
+
+<p>“This isn’t for publication in your old paper,
+Tommy, you know. And don’t say anything about it
+to any one, will you?”</p>
+
+<p>And Tommy pledged himself to secrecy, adding:</p>
+
+<p>“And I think you’ve got it, Pete. Are you going to
+see him to-night?”</p>
+
+<p>“As soon as I can find him in his room,” Pete
+replied.</p>
+
+<p>“Then I’ll come around to Allan’s to-night and
+hear what’s happened.”</p>
+
+<p>“Maybe I won’t tell Allan,” answered Pete. “Anyhow,
+not unless I have to. I’ll see what the coyote has
+to say for himself.”</p>
+
+<p>“Rindgely? Oh, he’ll have plenty to say, all right.
+He’ll talk himself blue in the face if you let him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Maybe I won’t let him,” answered Pete, grimly.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII</a><br />
+<small>THE FRESHMAN GAME</small></h2>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p>“Your aunt was in Los Angeles California Monday
+expected stay week address Mission House. Is
+anything wrong? <span class="flright smcap">Mother.”</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>This message Allan found awaiting him when he
+hurried home from dinner that evening. So far so
+good, he reflected. But Monday was three days gone,
+and if his aunt had changed her mind and gone on!&mdash;well,
+he didn’t like to consider that contingency. Seating
+himself at his desk, he composed two messages, one
+to his aunt and one to the manager of the Mission
+House. In the latter he requested that his message to
+Miss Mary G. Merrill be forwarded to her, in case she
+had left the hotel. In the other message he finally expressed,
+at the expense of thirty-four words, what he
+wanted his aunt to do. Then he hurried again to the
+telegraph office and begged the emotionless operator to
+get both messages off at once. The operator nodded
+silently.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“You haven’t received any other message for me,
+have you?” asked Allan. The operator as silently
+shook his head. Allan wandered back to his room.
+Studying was a task this evening, and he was glad when
+Tommy demanded admittance. A few minutes later
+Pete, too, arrived, looking very satisfied with life.
+Allan did not notice the exchange of glances between
+the last comer and Tommy, and if he had he would not
+have understood them, nor would he have connected
+them with the matter uppermost in his thoughts.
+Tommy raised his eyebrows inquiringly and Pete
+nodded with a smile and mysteriously tapped the breast
+of his coat.</p>
+
+<p>Allan was full of his quandary and found much
+relief in telling everything to Tommy and exhibiting
+the telegrams received and copies of those sent. Pete,
+strange to say, and somewhat to Allan’s disappointment,
+did not display the amount of interest in the subject
+which Allan thought he should have; and even Tommy
+seemed soon to tire of the matter. Allan fell into
+silence, reflecting pessimistically on the readiness of
+your friends to abandon your troubles. Pete and
+Tommy left early&mdash;Tommy had been on the point of
+leaving ever since his arrival&mdash;and with their parting
+injunctions to “cheer up” and “don’t let it bother
+you” in his ears, Allan went sorrowfully to bed.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The next day was Friday, and it dawned cloudy
+and chill. May has its moods, even in Centerport, but
+it was unfortunate that it should have displayed the
+fact to-day, for the gloominess of the weather increased
+Allan’s despondency until Two Spot, blinking inquiringly
+from the Morris chair, saw that the world was
+awry and decided to go to sleep until things were
+righted again. And the answer to his St. Thomas Club
+message, which came just before noon, did not tend to
+lighten Allan’s spirits.</p>
+
+<p>“Ware of Erskine,” it ran, “won third in mile
+run December twenty-sixth.”</p>
+
+<p>Allan, as he tossed the sheet of buff paper angrily
+aside, wondered whether, after all, he had not taken
+part in the meeting while temporarily unbalanced; he
+had heard of such things, he thought. Or perhaps he
+had fallen asleep and&mdash;but no, his imagination couldn’t
+conceive of any one running a mile race and negotiating
+inclined corners without waking up! It was a strange
+and maddening mystery, and the more he puzzled over
+it the stranger it seemed and the more exasperated he
+became.</p>
+
+<p>Stearns called after lunch and listened to an account
+of the developments with perfunctory interest. He
+had given up hope of having Allan enter the meet, and
+had decided that it didn’t much matter. For it was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>
+evident that Allan was worried and nervous, and the
+chances that he would give a good account of himself, if
+he ran, were slim. Stearns was sympathetic, but Allan
+could see that he, like Pete and Tommy, wasn’t inclined
+to let the matter trouble him overmuch.</p>
+
+<p>After the track captain had left, Allan fell into still
+deeper despondency and mooned about his room&mdash;which
+was the last thing he should have done&mdash;until four
+o’clock, when a half-hour of jogging on the track took
+him out. No reply from Aunt Mary had reached him
+by dinner time, and although he stayed awake until
+eleven, in violation of training orders, listening eagerly
+for the opening of the gate which should announce the
+advent of the messenger, he was at last forced to go to
+sleep without the message. You may be certain his
+sleep did him little good. He dreamed all night, or so
+it seemed, and morning found him tired and haggard.
+His first look was toward the door-sill, but no buff envelope
+rewarded it.</p>
+
+<p>“That settles it,” he muttered, bitterly; “I’m not
+going to hope any longer.”</p>
+
+<p>Having reached this decision, he threw back his
+shoulders and walked to breakfast whistling a tune. To
+be sure, the tune wasn’t always tuneful, and sometimes
+it died out entirely, but it was a brave effort. Breakfast
+at the training table was an uncomfortable meal for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span>
+him. The others were in the best of spirits, and there
+was present a half-suppressed excitement that showed
+itself on the countenances and in the bearing of the
+fellows.</p>
+
+<p>None there save Stearns and Pete knew of Allan’s
+trouble, and they gave no sign. Pete even seemed to
+Allan to be indecently happy, and his attempts at conversation
+met with scant encouragement. Half-way
+through the meal Rindgely’s absence was discovered,
+and Kernahan was despatched to hunt him up. He
+had not returned when Allan left the house. Every one
+was cautioned to spend the forenoon out-of-doors and
+report promptly at eleven-thirty for lunch.</p>
+
+<p>The town soon took on a gala appearance. The
+sidewalks were thronged by ten o’clock, and none
+seemed to have anything to do save discuss the outcome
+of the afternoon’s performances. Erskine banners hung
+from the shop windows and fluttered over front doors.
+Pete wanted Allan to go out to the field with him and
+see the Erskine-Robinson freshman game, but Allan had
+no heart for it, and refused to leave his room. He had
+no recitations, for the professors had very generally
+given cuts. He wrote a letter to his mother&mdash;a very
+dismal production it was, too&mdash;and then sat at the window
+with Two Spot in his lap and watched the crowds
+pass on their way to the game.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The college band, followed by a mob of singing,
+cheering freshmen, went by in a cloud of dust, and
+presently a barge containing the home nine passed, and
+Allan had a glimpse of Hal’s gray-clad shoulders. The
+Robinson youngsters had already gone out. The steady
+stream of townfolk and students became broken;
+groups of three and four passed at intervals; now and
+then a couple of students, laughing and chatting, or a
+solitary mortal hurried by the house. Then, quite suddenly,
+as it seemed, all traffic ceased, and Poplar Street
+resumed its wonted quiet.</p>
+
+<p>Half an hour later Allan’s eyes, roaming from the
+magazine which he was striving to read, sighted a faded
+blue coat across the little park, and his heart leaped into
+his throat. A messenger boy, whistling a blithe tune,
+toiled slowly along, as though his shoulders bore the
+weight of a great sorrow. Once, when almost at the
+corner, he stopped, leaned against the fence and seemed
+on the point of going to sleep. Then he roused himself
+and came on. Allan restrained an impulse to dart out
+into the road and waited on the porch, with his heart
+beating like a trip-hammer. The boy reached the corner,
+glanced with mild interest at Allan&mdash;and went on
+up Main Street.</p>
+
+<p>After the first moment of blank and sickening dismay,
+Allan went to the end of the porch and looked after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span>
+him. Perhaps, after all, he was mistaken, and would
+discover the fact and turn back. But eventually the lad
+sauntered across the street and disappeared around the
+corner of McLean. Allan went back to his chair, his
+heart like lead and a lump in his throat that wouldn’t
+be swallowed.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<p>Out at Erskine Field great things were happening.
+The purple-lettered youngsters were more than holding
+their own against the far-heralded team of Robinson.
+It was the sixth inning, and the score stood 9 to 5 in
+Erskine’s favor. Hal had played a magnificent game at
+second and already had a double-play to his credit, and
+had, besides, succeeded beyond all of his team-mates at
+hitting the redoubtable brown-stockinged pitcher. Side
+by side on the warm turf back of third-base, Tommy
+and Pete were sitting cross-legged, having passed the
+ropes by virtue of Tommy’s ever-present note-book, with
+its staring inscription, “Erskine Purple,” on the
+cover. The last man of the Erskine side went out, the
+teams changed places, the seventh inning began with
+Robinson’s tail-enders coming to the plate, and Pete
+resumed his narrative, which had been interrupted by
+Hal’s hard drive to left-field.</p>
+
+<p>“He didn’t have any idea what I had come for,”
+Pete said, “and was going to be very nice and polite;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span>
+he can be when he likes, you know. But I wasn’t there
+to pass compliments or swap stories, so I got right down
+out of the saddle and talked business. ‘Rindgely, I
+know that you ran in the St. Thomas Club meet in
+Brooklyn the night after Christmas, under the name
+of A. Ware, and won fifteen dollars,’ I said, ‘and you’ve
+got to come out in the open and say so.’ Of course, it
+was a rank bluff; I was pretty certain about it after I’d
+talked with you, but I didn’t know absolutely, and
+couldn’t prove anything. If he had kept his nerve and
+told me to go to thunder, it would have been all off on
+the spot, and I’d had to crawl off with my tail between
+my legs. But it took him so sudden that he just
+gasped and got pale around the gills. Then I knew I
+had him roped. So I just waded in and gave it to him
+hot and heavy. Told him he was a horse-thief and an
+all-round galoot; that he ought to be ashamed of himself,
+and a lot more. When I got through he was a pretty
+sick steer. I had him hog-tied and branded. Then he
+began to play fair.&mdash;Ginger! look at that hit! Good
+work! That’s two out, ain’t it? Only one? Well, it
+ought to be two.”</p>
+
+<p>“And then what?” asked Tommy, making strange
+marks in the score-book on his knee.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I got kind of sorry for the poor old jack-rabbit.
+He told me all about it, and swore up and down<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>
+he hadn’t meant any harm; that he wanted to try what
+he could do against some good men at the mile, and
+hadn’t cared a hang about the money. ‘But what did
+you use Ware’s name for?’ says I. ‘Wasn’t your own
+bad enough?’ ‘Because,’ says he, ‘I didn’t want my
+folks to know about it; they live there in Brooklyn, and
+might have seen my name in the paper next day. I
+didn’t think about making myself ineligible,’ says he,
+‘and I didn’t think I was doing Ware any harm.’ Well,
+that may be a lie, but he was sure in the dumps, and so
+I agreed to make things easy for him. ‘You write it
+all out in black and white and sign your name to it,’
+says I, ‘and if I can I’ll keep dark about it. If Allan
+gets a message from his aunt, all right; if he doesn’t, I
+show your document to Nast. I’ll wait till the two-mile
+is called.’ Bully for you, Hal! That’s three, ain’t it?
+Sure! Hit it out, Seven!”</p>
+
+<p>“You see,” he went on, after the nines had changed
+places and the Erskine captain had seized his bat, “you
+see, I didn’t want to be any harder on Rindgely than I
+had to. He said if the faculty got hold of it they’d be
+sure to either bounce him bodily or hold up his diploma.
+Well, I guess they would, all right, eh?”</p>
+
+<p>“Sure to,” answered Tommy, promptly, as he
+marked the first man out at first, scored an assist to the
+credit of the opposing pitcher and a put-out to that of
+the Brown’s first-baseman.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“So that’s the way we fixed it up. And I hope
+Allan gets word from auntie, for I’m blessed if I want
+Rindgely to get kicked out without graduating. It
+would be hard luck for a chap to do four years at hard
+labor here and then slip up just when he was going to
+grab the prize, wouldn’t it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Hardest kind of luck,” said Tommy. “Hope you
+don’t have to show the confession.”</p>
+
+<p>Erskine went out in one, two, three order and the
+eighth inning commenced. The band was doing gallant
+work and Pete found conversation beyond his powers
+until the last strains of a lively two-step had died away.
+By that time the Brown’s second man had been retired,
+and Robinson’s hopes were dwindling fast.</p>
+
+<p>“Is he going to run this afternoon?” asked Tommy.</p>
+
+<p>Pete shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>“No; you see, I couldn’t let him do that; it would
+be against the law; if Allan couldn’t run he couldn’t,
+and that’s certain.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, he hasn’t any right to,” said Tommy, thoughtfully.
+“He’s plainly ineligible because he ran for
+money; and then, there would be other reasons.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, that’s the way I figured it out,” said Pete,
+with a note of relief in his voice. He was glad to have
+his decision supported by some one who knew more about
+such things. “But he saw himself that it was all up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>
+with him as a runner. He said he’d be sick to-day, and,
+as he wasn’t at breakfast, I guess he is. I’ll bet Dr.
+Prentiss will have a hard time finding out what’s wrong
+with him.” And Pete chuckled wickedly.</p>
+
+<p>“All out,” said Tommy. “Say, Hal! Oh, <em>Hal</em>!
+Give us a home run, Hal! Get out! Of course you
+can. We want some more runs.”</p>
+
+<p>“I guess we don’t stand much show of winning this
+afternoon,” went on Pete. “With Rindgely out of it
+and Allan all balled up, I can see Robinson getting a
+few points.”</p>
+
+<p>“They’ll win first in the mile, all right,” answered
+Tommy. “Hooker’s not in the same class with Rindgely
+this spring, and Harris isn’t a bit better; though maybe
+he’ll manage to get placed. As for Allan, he never has
+had any too good a chance at the two miles, and now,
+after all this rumpus, it’s a fair bet he’ll be out of it
+entirely. It’s a mean shame the way things have gone,
+and when you think that it’s all Rindgely’s fault, expulsion
+doesn’t seem a bit too bad for him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Maybe,” said Pete, doubtfully, “but I don’t want
+to be the feller to get him bounced; that’s all. If Allan’s
+confounded old relative doesn’t come to time I’ll&mdash;well,
+I guess I’ll give Rindgely’s statement to you and let
+you attend to things.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve got another guess, Pete,” said Tommy. “<em>I</em><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>
+don’t want anything to do with it. Besides, you worked
+the racket and ought to see it out.”</p>
+
+<p>Pete sighed dolefully.</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose I’ll have to,” he murmured.</p>
+
+<p>Again the inning closed without a tally, and Robinson
+came in for her last turn at bat. Her players looked
+very determined, and it seemed not impossible that they
+would go in and make up the four runs that threatened
+to defeat them. And the band played again. Pete and
+Tommy were driven from their places by the crowd,
+which had left the stands and were invading the field,
+and they allowed themselves to be pushed forward to
+the foul-line.</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose Allan thinks I’m a brute,” said Pete,
+dismally. “I didn’t go near him last night. But I just
+couldn’t stand seeing him so miserable, and not blurting
+out everything I knew. So I fought shy. I just hope it
+ends all right.”</p>
+
+<p>Whether that ended all right another chapter will
+have to tell, but there was no doubt about the game
+ending that way. Robinson went down before superb
+pitching, and with the score still 9 to 5, the spectators
+flooded over the field and their cheers drowned even
+the band.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV</a><br />
+<small>“ON YOUR MARK!”</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>Once more the crowds were moving out to Erskine
+Field. It was after one o’clock, and experienced persons
+knew that there were no reserved seats and that “first
+come first served” was the rule. The midday sun
+shone warmly and only enthusiasts looked forward with
+pleasure to sitting on the unshaded stands for the next
+three hours. Robinson’s athletes went out William
+Street in two barges, their paraphernalia following them
+in a tumble-down express wagon drawn by a limping
+sorrel nag, whose bridle was draped with brown and
+white.</p>
+
+<p>The contents of the barges were viewed with polite
+interest, but the wagon awakened amusement on the part
+of sober citizens and ribald mirth on the part of undignified
+undergraduates. Nearing the field, the eyes
+caught sight above the tree-tops of the great purple banner,
+with its snowy E, which fluttered lazily at the top
+of the tall staff. At half after one the stands were
+thickly sprinkled with spectators, and the flutter of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span>
+programs&mdash;used in lieu of fans&mdash;was visible across the
+field; with a little imagination one could have likened
+the ladies, in their bright and many-colored gowns and
+hats, to flowers, and thought the fluttering programs
+lighter petals stirred in a breeze.</p>
+
+<p>On the track, runners and sprinters were jogging to
+and fro and on the edge of the field the officials were
+gathering, their purple and gold badges glowing bravely
+in the sunlight. Two big tents had been erected at the
+end of the oval nearest the gates, and about them white-garbed
+contestants lay or sat on outspread dressing-gowns,
+while rubbers and trainers came and went
+among them like anxious hens among their broods.</p>
+
+<p>In front of the Erskine dressing-tent sat Allan. He
+had been up and down the straightaway three times and
+was still breathing heavily as a result. He had no
+hope now of being allowed to enter his event, and even
+if he were, he reflected, he would stand small show of
+winning, since it was evident that he was in poor shape.
+Physically he seemed fit enough, but he was aware all
+the time of a feeling of nervousness and depression that
+was ill-calculated to help him in a grueling two miles.</p>
+
+<p>Word had been left at the telegraph office that if a
+message came for him it was to be rushed out to the
+field as fast as possible, and to this end a horse and buggy
+from Pike’s stable was already standing in front of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span>
+door. Stearns was taking no chances, for now that
+Rindgely had been declared too ill to enter the contest,
+another five points were almost certain to go to Robinson,
+and if it was possible for Allan to enter the two
+miles and make a fight for a place, he must do it.
+Stearns was worried and down-hearted.</p>
+
+<p>Even the most optimistic calculators could not figure
+a victory for Erskine with first places in both the long-distance
+events conceded to her rival. As a last resort,
+Stearns had secured the postponement of the two miles
+to the tag end of the afternoon. He had thrown himself
+on the generosity of the Robinson captain and explained
+the predicament.</p>
+
+<p>And the Robinson captain, who was Brooks, their
+crack hurdler, had consented, a piece of sportsmanship
+which met with the condemnation of his trainer and
+many of the team. But the expedient promised to work
+little good, for it was plain that if Allan’s telegram to
+his aunt had reached her she would have replied not
+later than yesterday. But Stearns was in desperate
+straits and no chance was too slight for him to seize upon.</p>
+
+<p>At a few minutes after two o’clock the pistol was
+heard from the far end of the straightaway, and Erskine
+took the first honors of the meet, Stearns securing first
+place and Leroy second in the 100 yards dash, and
+earning 8 points for the Purple.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>To chronicle the afternoon’s proceedings in detail
+would be a tiresome as well as an unnecessary task. In
+the 120 yards hurdles, which followed the first dash,
+and in the 220 yards hurdles, which came later on the
+program, Robinson had things pretty much her own
+way, Brooks, her captain, taking first place handily in
+each. Robinson won 12 points in these events, and
+Erskine 6. Stearns again showed his mettle in the 220
+dash, and Robinson got second and third; 5 points for
+Erskine and 4 points for her adversary. In the quarter-mile
+the best the home team could do was to secure third
+place, and that by the narrowest margin, though the
+time, 50⅖ seconds, was absurdly slow. When the
+mile was called, the 220 yards hurdles had not been run
+and the score on Professor Nast’s sheet stood: Erskine,
+18; Robinson, 18. So far things were happening in a
+way that brought joy to the professor’s heart, but the
+field events were still undecided and the long distances
+were yet to run.</p>
+
+<p>The mile event worked the audience up to the highest
+stage of excitement, and for a long while, in fact until
+the three-quarters had been passed, the race was most
+anybody’s. But after that Coolbroth of Robinson
+sprang into the lead, closely pursued by Harris of
+Erskine, and Patterson of Robinson. The finish was
+made in that order, Harris and Patterson fighting for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>
+second honors all the way around the last lap, and Harris
+finally winning his 3 points by a bare two yards. The
+hammer throw was decided about this time, and Robinson
+was credited with first and third, Monroe winning
+second for Erskine. The score now was not so satisfactory
+to the supporters of the Purple, since it stood:
+Erskine, 24; Robinson, 30.</p>
+
+<p>The Purple exceeded expectations in the broad
+jump, allowing her rival but 1 point. In the high
+jump, however, she didn’t show up so well; Robinson
+took first and third places. After the 220 yards hurdles,
+which, as has been already told, were won by Brooks,
+Erskine securing but 1 point, the score was heavily in
+the Brown’s favor, 45 to 36. By this time the afternoon
+had worn well toward sunset. Only the shot-put, the
+880 yards run, the pole-vault and the two miles remained.
+Of these, Robinson was conceded 8 points in
+the pole-vault, 5 in the shot-put and 1 in the 880. It
+was difficult to see how Erskine could pull out of the
+meet ahead. In fact, it was evident that she couldn’t.
+Even Tommy, normally optimistic, had lost hope. While
+the competitors in the hurdles were trotting off to the
+tents he hurried across to where the shot-putters were at
+work. As he approached, six of the nine candidates
+were donning their dressing-gowns, and he knew that the
+trials were over and that the six were out of it. Then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span>
+he pursed his lips and whistled softly. Of the three
+competitors remaining for the finals, two were Erskine
+men, Monroe and&mdash;yes, the other was Pete! The Robinson
+candidate was Tiernan, who had won first in the
+hammer throw. Pete hailed Tommy and drew him
+aside.</p>
+
+<p>“Have you got that paper safe?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes.” Tommy reassured him by allowing a corner
+of it to peep forth from his inside pocket. Pete nodded
+and glanced toward the tent.</p>
+
+<p>“For goodness’ sake, don’t lose it,” he said. “And
+keep a watch for the two miles. We’re not through here
+yet and I don’t want the scheme to slip up.”</p>
+
+<p>“All right. And say, Pete!”</p>
+
+<p>“Yep?”</p>
+
+<p>“Do your best, old man, won’t you?” begged
+Tommy. “They’re ’way ahead of us, but if we get
+first and third out of this we may have a fighting
+chance.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, we’ll see,” said Pete, untroubled. “I’ve got
+Monroe dead to rights, anyway.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, but beat Tiernan, Pete; we’ve <em>got</em> to win!”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, just as you say, Tommy,” answered Pete,
+smiling at the other’s look of tragedy. “For your sake,
+Tommy, I’ll do my best.”</p>
+
+<p>“Burley!” called the field judge, and Pete drew<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span>
+his sweater off and stepped into the ring. There were
+three competitors remaining, and each was allowed
+three tries, the best of which was to count. Pete picked
+up the shot, took up his position at the rear of the circle,
+placed the weight in his broad right hand, threw his left
+arm out to balance him, raised his left foot from the
+ground, and then, with a motion that was neither hop
+nor glide, reached the front of the circle, brought his
+right shoulder smartly round and sent the weight flying.
+The measurer started to lay the end of the tape where
+the shot had struck, but stopped at judge’s announcement.</p>
+
+<p>“Foul,” said the latter. “You overstepped,
+Burley.”</p>
+
+<p>Pete nodded carelessly and donned his sweater
+again. Kernahan, who had approached during the try,
+beckoned to him, and they stepped aside.</p>
+
+<p>“That won’t do, Pete,” said Billy. “Keep that
+elbow in to the body; you had it spread way out that
+time. And mind the stop. Take all the time you want,
+you know; there’s no hurry.”</p>
+
+<p>Pete grinned.</p>
+
+<p>“<em>That’s</em> all right,” he said. “Don’t worry about
+me, Billy. I’ll get it away all right next time.”</p>
+
+<p>Monroe followed with a put of 43 feet 6 inches, and
+Tiernan bettered this by half a foot. Again Pete peeled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span>
+his sweater off and took up the shot. As he stood there,
+balancing himself, he looked, with a careless, good-natured
+smile on his face, like a giant who, for his
+amusement, had entered the sports of pigmies. He
+was taller than Tiernan and bigger everywhere than
+Monroe; the judge came barely to his shoulder. The
+muscles of his arms were like great ropes under the
+clear skin. Once more he crossed the ring, and once
+more the leaden ball was hurled forward. From the
+stands came a chorus of applause. Tommy’s face
+lighted, and even Billy gave an appreciative nod. The
+Robinson trainer, standing across the circle, shot a
+quick glance at Pete as he stepped out and took his
+sweater from the turf.</p>
+
+<p>“Forty-four feet seven inches,” announced the
+judge, as he held the tape to the edge of the stop-board.
+Tommy clapped Pete on the shoulder and whispered
+his delight. Pete smiled good-humoredly.</p>
+
+<p>“All out for the 880!” cried a voice across the oval.
+“Hurry up, half-milers!”</p>
+
+<p>Monroe made his second try, and the tape said 44
+feet 1 inch. He turned away in disgust. Pete smiled.
+Robinson’s champion took plenty of time at his next
+try, and made a splendid put. He had exceeded Pete’s
+best attempt and there was a breathless silence around
+the ring as the tape was adjusted. Then,</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Forty-five feet two inches,” said the judge.</p>
+
+<p>The Robinson trainer, who had looked anxious a
+moment since, smiled demurely. Over on the starting
+line the half-milers were being placed. Along the
+length of the stands the spectators were leaving their
+seats here and there. Pete stepped into the seven-foot
+circle for his last try. Tommy, a few feet away,
+watched him eagerly. With the shot in his right hand,
+Pete looked across and dropped his left eyelid in a
+portentous wink.</p>
+
+<p>Tommy’s heart sank. If Pete would only stop his
+fooling for a minute, he thought, and really put his
+heart into it! And while the thought came to him, Pete
+was hopping across the ring and poising himself for an
+instant at the front edge. Then his body swung around,
+his right arm shot out like a steel spring, and the shot
+went arching over the ground. Tommy’s heart leaped
+into his throat and then thumped wildly. From the
+stands whose occupants were near enough to be able to
+follow the shot-putting came a great roar of applause.
+Tommy, with his eyes fixed intently on the tape, felt
+a hand seize his arm and pull him around.</p>
+
+<p>“Come along,” said Pete, “and find Nast.”</p>
+
+<p>“Wait! Wait till we find out&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Find out nothing,” said Pete. “Monroe can’t
+touch that put!”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But even as Tommy hung back the judge looked up
+from the tape with a smile on his face.</p>
+
+<p>“Forty-five feet eleven inches!” he said.</p>
+
+<p>“<em>Oh, bully!</em>” cried Tommy. “But Tiernan&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Huh!” said Pete.</p>
+
+<p>From across the field came the sharp report of the
+pistol sending the half-milers away, and as Pete and
+Tommy hurried to the tents the white-clad runners
+swept by in a bunch on the first of their two laps, Poor
+and Tolmann side by side in the lead, and Thatcher,
+Erskine’s main hope, running warily well toward the
+rear. Around the turns they went and entered the
+back-stretch, hundreds of voices urging them on.</p>
+
+<p>Allan, a depressed-looking figure in his dragging
+drab gown, met them as they crossed the track. There
+was no use asking him whether he had received the
+longed-for message; one glance at his face was sufficient.
+Pete took him aside out of the throng.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re going to run, Allan,” he said, in low tones,
+“so get warmed up. Now, don’t ask any questions, for
+I can’t answer ’em yet. Just do as I tell you. It’s all
+right; you’re going to run, and if you don’t win out I’ll&mdash;I’ll
+lick you!”</p>
+
+<p>The expression of hope which had at first leaped
+into Allan’s face died out again, but a look of curiosity
+remained.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“What&mdash;what do you mean?” he asked, wonderingly.</p>
+
+<p>“Just what I say. You’re going to run, and if you
+want to do anything in the race get your muscles
+stretched. Let go of me; I’m in a hurry. Have you
+seen Nast?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve found him,” said Tommy, hurrying up.
+“He’s gone over to the finish. Here come the half-milers.
+Track, there!”</p>
+
+<p>Once more the runners sped past, but now they were
+no longer bunched together. In front, leading by half
+a dozen yards, ran Poor. Next came Thatcher, then a
+Robinson man, then Tolmann. Behind Tolmann the
+rest of the field pegged away, already out of the reckoning,
+barring accidents.</p>
+
+<p>“All out for the two miles!” bawled the clerk.</p>
+
+<p>Pete shot a glance at Tommy and the latter nodded.
+Together they turned away.</p>
+
+<p>“Get a move on, Allan,” cried Pete. “Don’t stand
+there like a wooden Indian!” Allan, his face expressing
+wonder and returning hope, slipped quickly out of
+his dressing-gown.</p>
+
+<p>“I guess you’re joking, Pete,” he said, “but&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Is Mr. Ware here?” piped a shrill voice, and the
+blue-coated messenger boy pushed his way through the
+throng about the tents. “Telegram for Mr. Ware!”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>With a cry Allan turned and seized the envelope
+from the boy’s hands and tore it open. Under the gaze
+of dozens of curious eyes, he read the words on the still
+damp sheet of yellow paper and turned with exultant
+eyes to Pete and Tommy, who had paused at the edge of
+the track.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s all right!” he cried. “Where’s Nast?” And
+he sped off around the track. Tommy and Pete followed,
+and the latter, as he went, took a folded sheet of
+foolscap from his pocket and tore it into tiny pieces.</p>
+
+<p>“Hurry up for the two miles!” bawled the clerk
+again.</p>
+
+<p>When Allan reached the finish he was unable for a
+moment to reach Professor Nast, for the half-milers
+were tearing down the home-stretch and the crowd was
+thick about the tape. Shouts of triumph, roars of applause,
+arose. Down the cinders, their straining forms
+throwing long wavering shadows before them, came
+Thatcher, Tolmann, and a Robinson runner, the first
+two almost side by side, the third man four or five yards
+behind. Then, in an instant more, the red string fluttered
+away and Thatcher raced over the line, a winner
+by a bare yard over his team-mate.</p>
+
+<p>“Eight more points!” cried Tommy, gleefully.
+“Who knows how the shot-put came out?”</p>
+
+<p>“We got first and third,” answered Hal, turning.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>
+“Hello, Tommy, is that you?” But Tommy was too
+busy casting up figures on his score to do more than
+nod.</p>
+
+<p>“Was Pete first?” he asked in a moment.</p>
+
+<p>“First! Gosh, he was first by almost a foot. Tiernan
+fouled on his last try, and&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“How about Monroe?” asked Pete, worming his
+way forward.</p>
+
+<p>“Hello, you old brick!” cried Hal, seizing his
+hand. “Why, Monroe did something like forty-four
+feet two, I think.”</p>
+
+<p>“<em>That’s</em> all right,” said Pete.</p>
+
+<p>By this time Allan had found Professor Nast, and
+the latter was reading the message. It ran:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p>“Allan was at my house New York evening December
+twenty-sixth except between eight and eight-thirty
+o’clock when he went errand for me Thirty-ninth street.
+Could not have gone to Brooklyn and did not if he
+says so. <span class="flright smcap">Mary G. Merrill.”</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The professor handed back the sheet of paper and
+put his hand on Allan’s shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>“Good,” he said, with satisfaction. “Go in and
+win, Ware.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He pushed him toward where the long-distance men
+were assembling at the start. Allan waited for no more,
+but darted down the track. As he reached the group,
+his name was called and he answered as he slipped into
+the second line of runners. The next instant Stearns
+was pulling him aside, his eyes wide with eagerness.</p>
+
+<p>“Is it all right?” he whispered. “Did you get
+word?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, a minute ago. I’ve seen Nast.”</p>
+
+<p>Stearns gave him a hug that left him almost breathless.</p>
+
+<p>“Thank goodness!” he said, softly. “The meet’s
+tied at 54 points. The whole thing depends on this, and
+we’ve got to have first place, Ware, we’ve <em>got</em> to! Watch
+that man Burns over there; the tall chap with the tow
+hair; he’s dangerous. And&mdash; Say, Billy,” turning to
+the trainer, who had slipped across the track to them,
+“Ware’s in it, after all. I was telling him to&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Get the lead at the start, or as soon as you can,
+and just simply hold it, if you have to break a leg,” said
+Billy, quietly. “How are you feeling?”</p>
+
+<p>“I&mdash;I don’t know,” answered Allan. “But&mdash;I
+guess I’m all right.”</p>
+
+<p>“Good. See that light-haired Robinson man over
+there at the pole? Well, play for him, Ware. And
+don’t let him head you for a minute. All right now.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“All ready, there?” called the starter, as he dropped
+back and glanced at the pistol in his hand. There was
+an instant of silence. Then,</p>
+
+<p>“<em>On your mark!</em>” he cried.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV</a><br />
+<small>THE LAST EVENT</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>Eleven men had entered for the two-mile run, six
+from Robinson and five from Erskine. Of these, we
+know Ware, Conroy, and Hooker, wearers of the purple
+ribbon, and have just heard of Burns, the Brown’s
+crack long-distance runner. In view of the result of
+the race, it may be well to mention also Tammen, another
+Robinson entry, who, until to-day, had been viewed
+as a second-rater. For the others, they were big and
+little, fair and dark, and all with their spurs still to
+win. Taken together, they were a clean-built, healthy
+lot as they stood at the starting line, their white running
+pants and white shirts&mdash;the latter crossed by the purple
+ribbon or the brown and white&mdash;just tinged with saffron
+by the long rays of the setting sun. The starter glanced
+again at his pistol.</p>
+
+<p>“<em>Set!</em>” he cried.</p>
+
+<p>And as the runners put their weights forward and
+poised arms front and back, the pistol spoke and the
+spiked shoes bit at the cinders as the men strove for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>
+inside of the track. The timers looked up from their
+watches and the group about the line broke up. Ten
+minutes&mdash;possibly a little less, perhaps a little more&mdash;must
+elapse before the result could be known and
+Erskine or Robinson could claim the meet. For by a
+freak of fortune each college had now 54 points to its
+credit, and final victory would go to that one whose
+colors first brushed the string at the finish. Whether
+the spring’s labor and planning was to be crowned with
+victory or draped with defeat depended on who won
+first place and its 5 points.</p>
+
+<p>A knowledge of this accompanied Allan all through
+the race, now spurring him on to determined effort, now
+casting him into the depths of hopelessness and despair.
+The meet depended upon him, and he wished with all
+his heart that it didn’t. For from the first instant he
+knew that he was not in a condition to do his best. He
+was aware of high-strung nerves and a general feeling of
+worry. For the latter there was no longer any reason;
+but reason or no reason, it remained. The last two
+days and their accompanying nights of unrefreshing
+slumber had had their effect. For the rest, his muscles
+were strong and supple, his lungs eager for
+their task.</p>
+
+<p>Half-way around the first lap he had secured the
+lead, none disputing it with him, and had settled down<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span>
+into that apparently slow pace which makes the two-mile
+event look so unexciting at the first. He knew himself
+capable of making that pace for the entire distance and
+finishing comparatively fresh, but he also knew that
+Burns, who was coming serenely along half-way back
+down the length of the string, could stand it quite as
+well, and could probably sprint in the last quarter mile
+and beat him out. He decided then to increase the pace,
+in the hope of wearing the Robinson crack out, yet
+knowing that to make too fast a race would finish him
+up just as surely as it would Burns.</p>
+
+<p>When the home-stretch was reached in that first lap
+Allan set his legs to faster work, and as he crossed the
+line and completed the eighth of his distance, supporters
+of the Purple shook their heads. It wouldn’t do, they
+murmured; he would run himself out in the first mile
+and a half. Even Kernahan was a little worried,
+though nothing of the sort showed on his face. At the
+end of the second lap Allan had not abated his speed
+a jot.</p>
+
+<p>As he passed the groups around the finish and the
+tents, his eyes were set straight ahead, his long strides
+clung closely to the inner rim of the track and he was
+holding himself well erect. Into his cheeks the blood
+was creeping and dyeing them crimson, save for two
+disks that showed whiter and whiter as the contest wore<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span>
+on. Behind Allan ran an unknown Robinson man, then
+Hooker, then Tammen, then Burns. Conroy was dangerously
+far back, and, with others in his neighborhood,
+was showing that he didn’t approve of the pace.</p>
+
+<p>Of all distances, the two miles is the hardest to run.
+Speed as a factor in success is largely eliminated, and
+endurance is the supreme test. The race requires a
+large courage on the part of the runner, the courage to
+endure. It has been said, and truly, that it takes a fast
+man for the sprints and a brave man for the distances.
+At the completion of the fourth lap it is safe to say that
+five of the six runners were as completely and hopelessly
+beaten as though the race was finishing. Their legs
+dragged, their heads were falling back, and their lungs
+were aching. But it had been the fastest half of a two-mile
+race ever run on Erskine Field.</p>
+
+<p>Of those in the van of the long line of runners,
+which now stretched half-way around the oval, only
+three maintained their form at the beginning of the
+fifth lap; those were Allan, Burns, and Tammen. Save
+that the unknown Robinson man who had held second
+place at the beginning had dropped back to fifth position,
+the order was unchanged. Between Allan and his
+team-mate, Hooker, there was three yards of cinders;
+between Hooker and Tammen, five yards more. Back
+of Tammen, only a stride separating them, ran Burns,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span>
+untroubled, and holding his own with great, long, easy
+strides.</p>
+
+<p>The turf was strangely green, for the low slanting
+beams of the sun bathed it in their golden glow. The
+stands were almost deserted, for the occupants were
+clustered all along the home-stretch, their eager gaze
+following the white-clad figures on the darkening track.</p>
+
+<p>If Allan’s form was still nearly what it had been at
+the beginning of the race, it must not be supposed that
+the mile had not told. Usually the two-miler finishes
+the half-distance in comparatively unwearied condition
+and faces his troubles from then on, but Allan had set a
+fast pace, and it had told on him, in spite of appearances.
+He felt as he usually did at the end of the mile
+and a half, and he wondered troubledly if he had not
+overdone it.</p>
+
+<p>At the turns, now and then, a backward glance revealed
+the confident face of Burns, while Hooker’s tortured
+breathing told its own tale. Either he must last
+out or Robinson would take second and third positions,
+as well as first. But he had grown fearful of his ability
+to do so, and on the sixth lap he eased up on his pace.
+And half-way down the back-stretch he wondered if he
+had not, after all, made a mistake in doing so. For
+Burns, refusing to slow down, had bested Tammen and
+Hooker and was apparently striving to pass Allan. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span>
+at the beginning of the next lap, the seventh, Allan saw
+that the supreme struggle was not yet, for Burns had
+slipped in behind him, apparently content to let him
+set the pace for a while longer.</p>
+
+<p>Then Hooker began to drop back. He had done his
+best, but his best was not good enough. Tammen passed
+him and ranged himself behind Burns, and these three,
+when the last lap began, were leading the field by sixty
+yards or more. As they swept by the finish the shouts
+of the spectators made a deafening roar in their ears.
+Allan had a dim vision of Pete leaping alongside the
+track at the first turn, near the tents, waving his long
+arms against the sunset glow and shouting unintelligible
+things.</p>
+
+<p>Once around that first turn, Allan shot a glance
+over his shoulder and his heart leaped. Unless he was
+very much mistaken, Burns had lost ground. That was
+Allan’s last turn of the head. From that time on it
+was merely a question of hugging the rim of the track
+and enduring the ache of limb and chest, doubting all
+the while his ability to hold his place and all the while
+determining to do it.</p>
+
+<p>He was right about Burns. That redoubtable runner
+had gone to pieces all in the minute. At the second
+turn he was plainly no longer dangerous to Allan, and
+back at the finish the throng roared its relief and delight.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span>
+And while it was still shouting, Tammen shot
+around Burns and began to lessen the dozen or so yards
+between him and Allan. And Allan, hearing vaguely
+a new note in the voices across the field and the rapid
+pat of steps on the track behind him, guessed what was
+up and felt his heart sink. Here was a man who could
+sprint, something Allan had never been able to do satisfactorily,
+and here, in all probability, was the winner
+of the race! Those gazing obliquely across the oval
+saw Allan falter for a stride just at the farther turn,
+and their hearts sank.</p>
+
+<p>But after that first instant of what was something
+like terror, Allan pulled himself together. In his own
+words, it was up to him to win, and win he would, if
+only his breath would last that long. Tammen, three
+yards behind him, made no attempt to pass him at the
+turns, but kept himself in hand for the home-stretch.
+And Allan, grim and determined, weakening with every
+long gasp for breath, knew that when the track stretched
+straight before him to the distant white line the battle
+would really begin, and that in the length of that distance
+the meeting would be won or lost.</p>
+
+<p>And then he finished the turn and the rim ran
+straight beside him. And then the <em>pat</em>, <em>pat</em> behind him
+crept nearer and nearer. Presently, when the stretch
+was half run, Allan was conscious, without looking&mdash;for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span>
+he dared not take his eyes from the track ahead&mdash;of
+something grayish-white at his elbow.</p>
+
+<p>The time had come to do the impossible, to spur his
+weary limbs into renewed effort, to force his panting
+lungs to greater exertion, and to keep that grayish blur
+where it was. To have thrown himself&mdash;nay, to have
+simply let himself drop onto the grass beside the track
+and troubled no more about anything, would have been
+at that moment the greatest pleasure of a lifetime.
+But along the track voices were roaring and shrieking,
+and, although the words were sounds only, the meaning
+of them he knew. They wanted him to win, and the
+desire found a new echo in his heart. He wanted to
+win, and&mdash;why, yes, he <em>would</em> win!</p>
+
+<p>And now the white line was in plain sight, although
+he didn’t see it, and the roar of voices was rising and
+growing. For a moment it seemed to him that he was
+motionless, and that the dark ranks on either side were
+moving slowly past him. And at the moment a glimpse
+of whitish-gray at his right dispelled the illusion, and
+with a sob for breath, he forced himself on. Once in
+that remaining twenty yards he staggered, and the
+watchers held their breaths for fear, but he recovered
+himself and plunged, reeling, on&mdash;and on&mdash;and on.
+Was there no end to it? he wondered, in agony. The
+haunting blur beside him was gone now, and&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Hold up! Easy, man, easy!” cried a voice that
+he seemed to know, and then dozens of arms were clutching
+him, and he let himself go. And as his eyes closed
+a whitish form passed before them and dropped from
+sight. Tammen, plucky to the last, was being lifted
+from the track, where, defeated and exhausted, he had
+fallen. And Allan, with closed eyes and tortured lungs,
+felt himself being carried to the tent, while in his ears
+was a roar of sound that told of victory and a race
+well run.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI</a><br />
+<small>“VALE”</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>Allan and Pete sat on the steps of McLean Hall.
+The yard was a fairyland of glowing lanterns and moving
+colors. Near at hand, in a bough-screened stand,
+the band was playing. Above their heads the old elms
+of Erskine rustled their leaves and whispered among
+themselves, comparing, perhaps, this class-day with the
+many that had gone before. On the gravel paths matrons
+and maids, in light gowns, accompanied by robed
+seniors or dress-suited undergraduates, passed and repassed.
+The scene was as fair a one as ever Allan had
+witnessed, while even Pete was forced to grudging
+admiration.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll come out in August, then,” Pete was saying.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” answered Allan, “and don’t you be afraid I
+won’t turn up, for this is the biggest excursion I ever
+took. So far I’ve never been farther away from home
+than this, and Colorado seems like the other side of the
+world.”</p>
+
+<p>Pete smiled in the half-light.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Hope you’ll like us, Allan. We may seem rather
+a rough and unpolished lot at first, but we’re not so bad
+when you cotton to our way of life.”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course I’ll like you,” said Allan, vehemently.
+“If it wasn’t for you and your father, Pete, where’d
+we be now?”</p>
+
+<p>“Where you are, I guess,” laughed Pete. “Let me
+tell you something, Allan. When you get out to Blackwater,
+don’t you go to speaking pieces at the old man,
+and thanking him; that’s a line of talk he can’t stand.”</p>
+
+<p>“But I’ve got to thank him,” objected Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“No you haven’t; your mother’s done that already
+in her letter. Besides, there isn’t anything to make a
+fuss about. I gave the tip to dad, and he bought up
+enough stock in the Gold Beetle to get control. Then
+he called a meeting, voted to go ahead with the mine,
+and&mdash;did it. And he found a whole bunch of ore, just
+as I knew he would. He don’t need any thanks. Why,
+ginger, the old mine will make him richer than it will
+you folks!”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, then, I’ll thank you again,” said Allan.</p>
+
+<p>“If you do, I’ll punch you! Look, there’s Rindgely
+with his folks. Nice-looking woman, that mother of
+his. Say, maybe I ain’t glad I didn’t have to show that
+confession of him!”</p>
+
+<p>“So’m I,” said Allan, heartily. “It would have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span>
+been a shame to prevent him from graduating. After
+all, I don’t suppose he realized what he was doing.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I don’t know about that,” answered Pete.
+“Anyhow, I’m glad we caught on to him in time. And
+it was all Two Spot’s doing, too; did you ever think of
+that? If she hadn’t rolled that ball of paper to my
+feet I’d never have seen that chap’s name and asked
+about him. It was that that put me onto the game. I
+remembered Tommy’s telling about Rindgely and the
+St. Thomas Club. By the way, it’s time those fellows
+showed up.”</p>
+
+<p>“Tommy and Hal? They’re always late. Have
+you heard Tommy’s voice? He cheered so hard at the
+ball game this afternoon that he can’t talk above a
+whisper. Hal’s trying to induce him to sing with the
+glee club.”</p>
+
+<p>“There’s Hooker and Long. What sort of a captain
+do you suppose Long will make?”</p>
+
+<p>“First rate, I should think. The fellows like him
+and he’s a hard-working, earnest sort of a fellow.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, just as long as they didn’t light on Monroe,”
+said Pete. “That man will be the death of me, he puts
+on so many airs. Next fall, when I get back, I’m going
+to start right in and learn how to throw the hammer,
+and keep at it until I can beat him at that, too.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll be busy at football,” suggested Allan.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>“Football? Oh&mdash;well, maybe; football isn’t a bad
+game, after all. But&mdash; Here they are. O Tommy!
+Tommy Sweet!”</p>
+
+<p>Tommy and Hal, attracted by Pete’s bellow, turned
+and joined them.</p>
+
+<p>“Thought we’d never get here,” said Tommy,
+hoarsely. “Hal got mixed up with an ice-cream freezer
+and ate six saucerfuls before I could drag him away.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s so,” Hal confessed. “That’s the trouble
+with breaking training; things taste so good and it’s so
+jolly nice to be able to eat all you want to. I expect to
+be fine and sick to-night.”</p>
+
+<p>“You have every right to,” said Allan. “When a
+little old freshman gets taken onto the varsity and
+makes a home run in the ninth inning, just when it’s
+needed, and lets in three men&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, shut up! And come on up to the room and
+eat. We can hear the music finely from the windows.
+I’ve got some nice cold ginger ale up there, and Mr. and
+Mrs. Guild ought to be along about now. Come on.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I never took much of a shine to ginger ale,”
+said Pete, drawing his big form erect; “the fizzy stuff
+always goes up my nose. But I’ll have some, for it sure
+is hot to-night.”</p>
+
+<p>“We’ll drink Tommy’s health,” said Hal, as they
+moved across the turf under the swaying lanterns, “and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span>
+we’ll get him to sing us ‘A Health to King Charles’ in
+his nice new voice.”</p>
+
+<p>“Toast yourselves,” growled Tommy, hoarsely.</p>
+
+<p>“We will!” cried Allan. “We’ll toast ourselves,
+and we’ll drink to next year, when we’ll all be jolly
+sophomores&mdash;except you, Tommy dear, who’ll be a
+disgustingly serious and dignified junior.”</p>
+
+<p>Laughing, they crossed the yard, under the glow of
+the lanterns, and passed out of sight into the shadows of
+Elm Street. Against the front of College Hall appeared
+in sputtering purple flames the word</p>
+
+<p class="p2 noic">“VALE.”</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<p class="noic adtitle bbdbl btdbl">BY RALPH HENRY BARBOUR.</p>
+
+
+<p class="noi adtitle">The Spirit of the School.</p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">The story of a boy who works his way through school. Illustrated
+in Colors. Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">Four Afloat.</span></p>
+
+<p class="noi adtitle">Four Afoot.</p>
+
+<p class="noi adtitle">Four in Camp.</p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A series of books relating the adventures of four boy companions.
+Illustrated in Colors, $1.50 each.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">On Your Mark!</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Story of College Life and Athletics. Illustrated in Colors by
+<span class="smcap">C. M. Relyea</span>. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p>No other author has caught so truly the spirit of school and college life.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Arrival of Jimpson.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p>Stories of college pranks, baseball, football, hockey, and college life.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Book of School and College Sports.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">Fully illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.75 net; postage additional.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">Weatherby’s Inning.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Story of College Life and Baseball. Illustrated in Colors by
+<span class="smcap">C. M. Relyea</span>. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p>In this recent book Mr. Barbour tells a story of college life and sport.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">Behind the Line.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Story of School and Football. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">C. M. Relyea</span>.
+12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">Captain of the Crew.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">Illustrated by <span class="smcap">C. M. Relyea</span>. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p>A fresh, graphic, delightful story that appeals to all healthy boys and girls.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">For the Honor of the School.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Story of School Life and Interscholastic Sport. Illustrated by
+<span class="smcap">C. M. Relyea</span>. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Half-Back.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">Illustrated by <span class="smcap">B. West Clinedinst</span>. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p>“It is in every sense an out-and-out boys’ book.”&mdash;<cite>Boston Herald.</cite></p>
+
+
+<p class="noic adauthor bb bt">D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<p class="noic adtitle bb btdbl">By C. C. HOTCHKISS.</p>
+
+<p class="noi adtitle">The Land Hero of 1812.</p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">Illustrated by <span class="smcap">B. West Clinedinst</span>. 12mo. Cloth,
+$1.25.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hotchkiss, who is well known through his stories for grown-ups, has
+chosen as the subject of his first book for boys the life of Andrew Jackson.
+While the facts of history are presented, the author adroitly constructed his
+story upon the most picturesque incidents of Jackson’s varied career. The
+book is therefore instructive as well as interesting.</p>
+
+
+<p class="noic adtitle bb btdbl">By KIRK MUNROE.</p>
+
+<p class="noi adtitle">The Outcast Warrior.</p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">Illustrated. 12mo. Ornamental Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p>This is a boys’ story of a white man turned Indian and his adventures in
+the Western wilderness. He distinguishes himself as a warrior and is known
+as Wicasta, the Man Chief of the Aricarees. He marries Koda, a Sioux
+captive, and becomes the father of Hanana (Morning Light).</p>
+
+
+<p class="noic adtitle bb btdbl">By OTTILIE A. LILJENCRANTZ.</p>
+
+<p class="noi adtitle">The Vinland Champions.</p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">Illustrated by the <span class="smcap">Kinneys</span>. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p>A rousing good boys’ book with plenty of dash and go and a glimpse of
+the wild, free life of the Vikings in it. Every school-boy has heard of the
+vague rumor that the Norsemen discovered America before Christopher Columbus.
+The story tells of the party of one hundred Icelanders who went and
+dwelt there and called it the “Peace Land.”</p>
+
+
+<p class="noic adtitle bb btdbl">By JULIE M. LIPPMANN.</p>
+
+<p class="noi adtitle">Every-Day Girls.</p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">Illustrated in colors. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p>The best book for girls that has appeared in years; it has all the charm
+and sweetness that is contained in “Little Women.” It is not merely a
+chronicle of events, however, but teaches a valuable lesson. The girls are
+sweet and lovely and quarrelsome and impulsive, just as every-day girls are.
+They have a hard and exciting time, and they fight a battle and win it. It is
+a charming, wholesome book.</p>
+
+
+<p class="noic adauthor bb bt">D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<p class="noic adtitle bbdbl btdbl">BY WILLIAM O. STODDARD.</p>
+
+<p class="noic">Each Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Boy Lincoln.</span></p>
+
+<p>This is an absorbing fanciful account of the early days of Abraham Lincoln when
+he was a boy living on the frontier.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Fight for the Valley.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">Colored Frontispiece and other Illustrations.</p>
+
+<p>A narrative of the brave defense of Fort Schuyler and the battle of Oriskany.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Spy of Yorktown.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">Colored Frontispiece.</p>
+
+<p>A story of the Yorktown campaign and Benedict Arnold.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">With the Black Prince.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Story of Adventure in the Fourteenth Century.</p>
+
+<p>The absorbing interest of this stirring historical romance will appeal to all young
+readers.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">Success Against Odds; or, How an American Boy Made his
+Way.</span></p>
+
+<p>In this spirited and interesting story Mr. Stoddard tells the adventures of a plucky
+boy who fought his own battles and made his way upward from poverty in a Long
+Island seashore town. It is a tale of pluck and self-reliance capitally told.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Red Patriot.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Story of the American Revolution.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Windfall; or, After the Flood.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">Illustrated by B. West Clinedinst.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">Chris, the Model-Maker.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Story of New York. With 6 full-page Illustrations by B. West
+Clinedinst.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">On the Old Frontier.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">With 10 full-page Illustrations.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Battle of New York.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">With 11 full-page Illustrations and colored Frontispiece.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">Little Smoke.</span></p>
+
+<p>A Story of the Sioux Indians. With 12 full-page Illustrations by F. S Dellenbaugh,
+portraits of Sitting Bull, Red Cloud, and other chiefs, and 72 head and tail
+pieces representing the various implements and surroundings of Indian life.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">Crowded Out o’ Crofield.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">With 23 Illustrations by C. T. Hill.</p>
+
+<p>The story of a country boy who fought his way to success in the metropolis.</p>
+
+
+<p class="noic adauthor bb bt">D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<p class="noic adtitle bbdbl btdbl">BOOKS BY J. A. ALTSHELER.</p>
+
+
+<p class="noi adtitle">The Young Trailers.</p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">Illustrated. 12mo. Ornamental cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p>A boys’ story, telling of the first settlers in Kentucky. Their pleasures and
+hardships, their means of protection, methods of obtaining food and ammunition
+are described in a way that makes the reader live with them. The life led
+by the young hero&mdash;his fights with Indians and his captivity among them&mdash;is
+vividly pictured.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Wilderness Road.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Romance of St. Clair’s Defeat and Wayne’s Victory. 12mo. Cloth,
+$1.50.</p>
+
+<p>“That Mr. Altsheler has caught the wild, free spirit of the life which he depicts
+is evident on every page, and nowhere more so than in one of his final
+chapters, ‘The Meeting of the Chiefs,’ where he vitalizes the life-and-death
+struggle of a friendly and a hostile Indian.”&mdash;<cite>New York Mail and Express.</cite></p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">In Circling Camps.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Romance of the American Civil War. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p>“We do not often get as fine a picture as that which Mr. Altsheler paints.
+The tale covers the period from the election and inauguration of Lincoln until
+the surrender of Lee and the entrance of the Northern army into Richmond....
+Every good American who enjoys the smell of powder and the crack of
+the rifle will appreciate the chapters that describe the battle of Gettysburg.”&mdash;<cite>The
+Bookman.</cite></p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">A Herald of the West.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">An American Story of 1811-1815. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p>“A rattling good story, and unrivalled in fiction for its presentation of the
+American feeling toward England during our second conflict.”&mdash;<cite>Boston Herald.</cite></p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">A Soldier of Manhattan.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">And his Adventures at Ticonderoga and Quebec. 12mo. Ornamental
+cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p>“The story is told in such a simple, direct way that it holds the reader’s
+interest to the end, and gives a most accurate picture of the times.”&mdash;<cite>Boston
+Transcript.</cite></p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Sun of Saratoga.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Romance of Burgoyne’s Surrender. 12mo. Ornamental cloth,
+$1.50.</p>
+
+<p>“Taken altogether, ‘The Sun of Saratoga’ is the best historical novel of
+American origin that has been written for years, if not, indeed, in a fresh,
+simple, unpretending, unlabored, manly way, that we have ever read.”&mdash;<cite>New
+York Mail and Express.</cite></p>
+
+
+<p class="noic adauthor bb bt">D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<p class="noic adtitle bbdbl btdbl">COLUMBUS AND WASHINGTON.</p>
+
+
+<p class="noi adtitle">The Story of Columbus.</p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">By <span class="smcap">Elizabeth Eggleston Seelye</span>. Edited by Dr.
+Edward Eggleston. With 100 Illustrations by Allegra
+Eggleston. Delights of History Series. 12mo. Cloth,
+$1.75.</p>
+
+<p>“This is no ordinary work. It is preeminently a work of the present time and
+of the future as well.”&mdash;<cite>Boston Traveler.</cite></p>
+
+<p>“Mrs. Seelye’s book is pleasing in its general effect, and reveals the results of
+painstaking and conscientious study.”&mdash;<cite>New York Tribune.</cite></p>
+
+<p>“A very just account is given of Columbus, his failings being neither concealed
+nor magnified, but his real greatness being made plain.”&mdash;<cite>New York Examiner.</cite></p>
+
+<p>“The illustrations are particularly well chosen and neatly executed, and they
+add to the general excellence of the volume.”&mdash;<cite>New York Times.</cite></p>
+
+<p>“A brief, popular, interesting, and yet critical volume, just such as we should
+wish to place in the hands of a young reader. The authors of this volume have
+done their best to keep it on a high plane of accuracy and conscientious work without
+losing sight of their readers.”&mdash;<cite>New York Independent.</cite>
+</p>
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Story of Washington.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">By <span class="smcap">Elizabeth Eggleston Seelye</span>. Edited by Dr.
+Edward Eggleston. With over 100 Illustrations by
+Allegra Eggleston. Delights of History Series. 12mo.
+Cloth, $1.75.</p>
+
+<p>“One of the best accounts of the incidents of Washington’s life for young
+people.”&mdash;<cite>New York Observer.</cite></p>
+
+<p>“The Washington described is not that of the demigod or hero of the first half
+of this century, but the man Washington, with his defects as well as his virtues, his
+unattractive traits as well as his pleasing ones.... There is greater freedom
+from errors than in more pretentious lives.”&mdash;<cite>Chicago Tribune.</cite></p>
+
+<p>“The illustrations are numerous, and actually illustrate, including portraits and
+views, with an occasional map and minor pictures suggestive of the habits and customs
+of the period. It is altogether an attractive and useful book, and one that
+should find many readers among American boys and girls.”&mdash;<cite>Philadelphia Times.</cite></p>
+
+<p>“Will be read with interest by young and old. It is told with good taste and
+accuracy, and if the first President loses some of his mythical goodness in this story,
+the real greatness of his natural character stands out distinctly, and his example will
+be all the more helpful to the boys and girls of this generation.”&mdash;<cite>New York
+Churchman.</cite></p>
+
+
+<p class="noic adauthor bb bt">D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<p class="noic adtitle bbdbl btdbl">BY HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH.</p>
+
+
+<p class="noi adtitle">The Young McKinley.</p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">Illustrated. 12mo. Ornamental Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Butterworth portrays the future President at school, where, after a bitter disappointment,
+the crusty old school-teacher, who has a good heart beneath his severe
+exterior, says to him: “Never mind, you may be President yet.” He traces President
+McKinley’s career through his army days to the time when he was preparing for that
+great political career which made the blow that struck him down at the height of his
+glory a blow to the whole United States.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">Brother Jonathan; or, The Alarm Post in the Cedars.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Tale of Early Connecticut. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">In the Days of Audubon.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Tale of the “Protector of Birds.” Illustrated by B. West Clinedinst
+and others. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">In the Days of Jefferson; or, The Six Golden Horseshoes.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Tale of Republican Simplicity. Illustrated by F. T. Merrill. $1.50.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Story of Magellan.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Tale of the Discovery of the Philippines. Illustrated by F. T. Merrill
+and others. $1.50.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Treasure Ship.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Story of Sir William Phipps and the Inter-Charter Period in Massachusetts.
+Illustrated by B. West Clinedinst and others. $1.50.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Pilot of the Mayflower.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">Illustrated by H. Winthrop Peirce and others. $1.50.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">True to His Home.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Tale of the Boyhood of Franklin. Illustrated by H. Winthrop Peirce.
+$1.50.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Wampum Belt; or, The Fairest Page of History.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Tale of William Penn’s Treaty with the Indians. With 6 full-page
+Illustrations. $1.50.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Knight of Liberty.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Tale of the Fortunes of Lafayette. With 6 full-page Illustrations. $1.50.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Patriot Schoolmaster.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Tale of the Minutemen and the Sons of Liberty. With 6 full-page
+Illustrations by H. Winthrop Peirce. $1.50.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">In the Boyhood of Lincoln.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Story of the Black Hawk War and the Tunker Schoolmaster. With
+12 Illustrations and colored Frontispiece. $1.50.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Boys of Greenway Court.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Story of the Early Years of Washington. With 10 full-page Illustrations.
+$1.50.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Log School-House on the Columbia.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">With 13 full-page Illustrations by J. Carter Beard, E. J. Austen, and
+others. $1.50.</p>
+
+
+<p class="noic adauthor bb bt">D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<p class="noic adtitle bbdbl btdbl">YOUNG HEROES OF OUR NAVY.</p>
+
+
+<p class="noic adauthor"><i>NEW VOLUME.</i></p>
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">With the Flag in the Channel.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">The Adventures of Captain Gustavus Conyngham. By <span class="smcap">James
+Barnes</span>. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.00.</p>
+
+<hr class="r30" />
+
+<p class="noic adauthor">OTHER VOLUMES IN THE SERIES.</p>
+
+<p class="noic">Illustrated. 12mo. Each, $1.00.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">Reuben James.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A Hero of the Forecastle. By <span class="smcap">Cyrus Townsend Brady</span>, Author
+of “Paul Jones.” Illustrated by George Gibbs and others.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Hero of Manila.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">Dewey on the Mississippi and the Pacific. By <span class="smcap">Rossiter Johnson</span>.
+Illustrated by B. West Clinedinst and others.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Hero of Erie (<i>Commodore Perry</i>).</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">By <span class="smcap">James Barnes</span>, Author of “Midshipman Farragut,” “Commodore
+Bainbridge,” etc. With 10 full-page Illustrations.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">Commodore Bainbridge.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">From the Gunroom to the Quarter-deck. By <span class="smcap">James Barnes</span>.
+Illustrated by George Gibbs and others.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">Midshipman Farragut.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">By <span class="smcap">James Barnes</span>. Illustrated by Carlton F. Chapman.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">Decatur and Somers.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">By <span class="smcap">Molly Elliot Seawell</span>. With 6 full-page Illustrations by
+J. O. Davidson and others.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">Paul Jones.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">By <span class="smcap">Molly Elliot Seawell</span>. With 8 full-page Illustrations.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">Midshipman Paulding.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">A True Story of the War of 1812. By <span class="smcap">Molly Elliot Seawell</span>.
+With 6 full-page Illustrations.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">Little Jarvis.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">The Story of the Heroic Midshipman of the Frigate Constellation.
+By <span class="smcap">Molly Elliot Seawell</span>. With 6 full-page Illustrations.</p>
+
+
+<p class="noic adauthor bb bt">D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<p class="noic adtitle bbdbl btdbl">A UNIQUE BOOK.</p>
+
+<p class="noic">“<i>For children, parents, teachers, and all who are interested
+in the psychology of childhood.</i>”</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">The Book of Knight and Barbara.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">By <span class="smcap">David Starr Jordan</span>. Illustrated. 12mo.
+Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p>The curious and fascinating tales and pictures of this unique
+book are introduced by Dr. Jordan with the following preface:
+“The only apology the author can make in this case is that he
+never meant to do it. He had told his own children many
+stories of many kinds, some original, some imitative, some travesties
+of the work of real story-tellers. Two students of the department
+of education in the Stanford University&mdash;Mrs. Louise
+Maitland, of San Jose, and Miss Harriet Hawley, of Boston&mdash;asked
+him to repeat these stories before other children. Miss
+Hawley, as a stenographer, took them down for future reference,
+and while the author was absent on the Bering Sea Commission
+of 1896 she wrote them out in full, thus forming the material
+of this book. Copies of the stories were placed by Mrs. Maitland
+in the hands of hundreds of children. These drew illustrative
+pictures, after their fashion; and from the multitude
+offered, Mrs. Maitland chose those which are here reproduced.
+The scenes in the stories were also subjected to the criticisms
+of the children, and in many cases amended to meet their suggestions.
+These pictures made by the children have been found
+to interest deeply other children, a fact which gives them a
+definite value as original documents in the study of the workings
+of the child-mind. At the end of the volume are added a few
+true stories of birds and of beasts, told to a different audience.
+With these are a few drawings by university students, which are
+intended to assist the imagination of child-readers.”</p>
+
+
+<p class="noic adauthor bb bt">D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<p class="noic adtitle bbdbl btdbl">ILLUSTRATED JUVENILE STORIES.</p>
+
+
+<p class="noi adtitle">Fifty-two Stories for Girls.</p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">Edited by <span class="smcap">Alfred H. Miles</span>. Illustrated. 12mo.
+Ornamental Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p>A story for every week in the year. The very best present a girl
+could have. A constant reminder of the giver. Fifty-two stories by
+the best English writers, inculcating the love of honor, truth, and loyalty.
+These are such stories as it will do little girls good to read. They teach
+the love of home and many lovable qualities. Among the contributors
+are Margaret Watson, Jennie Chapman, Lucy Hardy, Alfred H. Miles,
+Lucie E. Jackson, and Thomas Archer.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">Fifty-two Stories for Boys.</span></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">Edited by <span class="smcap">Alfred H. Miles</span>. Illustrated. 12mo.
+Ornamental Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p>A story for every week in the year. The very best present a boy
+could have. A constant reminder of the giver. Fifty-two stories by the
+best English writers, inculcating the love of honor, manhood, truth, and
+patriotism. These are stories which stir the imagination and stimulate
+the reader to try to become a great man himself. Among the contributors
+are Alfred H. Miles, Robert Overton, Lieut.-Col. A. J. Macpherson,
+G. A. Henty, F. M. Holmes, and Grace Stebbing.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 noi"><span class="adtitle">Fifty-two More Stories for Boys.</span></p>
+
+<p class="noi adtitle">Fifty-two More Stories for Girls.</p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">Edited by <span class="smcap">Alfred H. Miles</span>. Illustrated. 12mo.
+Each $1.50.</p>
+
+<p>These two volumes are companions to the two “Fifty-two Stories”
+books published last fall. Each book will contain a story for every week
+in the year, particularly suited to the tastes of young boys and girls.
+The stories are by the best writers and cover a wide range of subjects.</p>
+
+
+<p class="noic adauthor bb bt">D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<p class="noic adtitle bbdbl btdbl">APPLETONS’ SUPPLEMENTARY READERS.</p>
+
+
+<p class="noi adtitle">Uncle Robert’s Geography.</p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">By the late <span class="smcap">Francis W. Parker</span> and <span class="smcap">Nellie
+L. Helm</span>. A Series of Geographical Readers
+for Supplementary Use. Four volumes. Illustrated.
+12mo. Cloth.</p>
+
+<table summary="geographies">
+<tr><td>1. Playtime and Seedtime</td> <td class="pl">32</td><td class="tdc">cents.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>2. On the Farm</td>           <td class="pl">42</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr>
+<tr><td>3. Uncle Robert’s Visit</td>  <td class="pl">50</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr>
+<tr><td>4. A River Journey</td>       <td class="pl">60</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>Uncle Robert teaches children how to read aright the great book
+of Nature. He makes study a pleasure. He teaches geography in the
+right way. He makes rural life and occupations attractive. He has a
+deep and loving sympathy with child-life. He believes in the education
+that strengthens the body as well as the mind. He tells children
+instructive stories to arouse their imaginations and stimulate their
+observing powers. He believes that every normal child may be made
+useful in the world. He has a boundless faith in human progress, and
+finds his greatest hopes in childhood and its possibilities.</p>
+
+<p><b>These extraordinarily suggestive little books by the late
+Colonel Parker&mdash;one of the most far-sighted students of
+child-life of our day&mdash;have approved themselves to thousands
+of primary teachers. They form one of the few successful
+attempts to incorporate that which is close by nature to
+child perception into the very warp and woof of the child
+mind. They give an intelligible meaning and vitality to
+the round of experiences that come to all normal children in
+our land.</b></p>
+
+
+<p class="noic adauthor bb bt">D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<div class="tnote">
+<p class="noi tntitle">Transcriber’s Notes:</p>
+
+<p>Except for the frontispiece, illustrations have been moved to
+   follow the text that they illustrate, so the page number of the
+   illustration may not match the page number in the List of
+   Illustrations.</p>
+
+<p>Printer, punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently
+   corrected.</p>
+
+<p>Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.</p>
+
+<p>Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.</p>
+
+<p>The Author’s em-dash and long dash styles have been retained.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of On Your Mark!, by Ralph Henry Barbour
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON YOUR MARK! ***
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+</pre>
+
+</body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of On Your Mark!, by Ralph Henry Barbour
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: On Your Mark!
+       A Story of College Life and Athletics
+
+Author: Ralph Henry Barbour
+
+Illustrator: C. M. Relyea
+
+Release Date: March 15, 2014 [EBook #45140]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON YOUR MARK! ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Donald Cummings and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ON YOUR MARK!
+
+
+
+
+BY RALPH HENRY BARBOUR.
+
+Each 12mo, Cloth.
+
+
+  The Spirit of the School.
+    Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.
+
+  Four Afloat.
+    Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.
+
+  Four Afoot.
+    Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.
+
+  Four in Camp.
+    Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.
+
+  On Your Mark.
+    Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.
+
+  The Arrival of Jimpson.
+    Illustrated. $1.50.
+
+  Weatherby's Inning.
+    Illustrated in Colors. $1.50.
+
+  Behind the Line.
+    Illustrated. $1.50.
+
+  Captain of the Crew.
+    Illustrated. $1.50.
+
+  For the Honor of the School.
+    Illustrated. $1.50.
+
+  The Half-Back.
+    Illustrated. $1.50.
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "Fooling?" Burley echoed. "Why, no, I ain't fooling."]
+
+
+
+
+ON YOUR MARK!
+
+A Story of College Life and Athletics
+
+
+BY RALPH HENRY BARBOUR
+
+AUTHOR OF BEHIND THE LINE, WEATHERBY'S INNING, ETC.
+
+
+_ILLUSTRATED BY C. M. RELYEA_
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+  New York
+  D. Appleton and Company
+  1908
+
+
+
+
+  COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY
+  D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
+
+
+_Published September, 1904_
+
+
+
+
+        TO
+   BERT AND LILA
+
+   IN MEMORY OF
+  "THE BIG HOUSE"
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+ CHAPTER                                         PAGE
+     I.--THE WINNER OF THE MILE                     1
+    II.--A VISITING CARD                           12
+   III.--ON THE CINDERS                            22
+    IV.--HAL HAS AN IDEA                           33
+     V.--"MR. PETER BURLEY, BLACKWATER, COL."      45
+    VI.--"RIGHT GUARD BACK!"                       57
+   VII.--"THE RANCH"                               65
+  VIII.--PETE'S CLUB TABLE                         73
+    IX.--THE DUCK HUNT                             86
+     X.--DINNER FOR TWO                            96
+    XI.--THE CAPSIZED BOAT                        106
+   XII.--TOMMY CORRECTS A REPORT                  120
+  XIII.--PETE WRITES HOME                         130
+   XIV.--HOCKEY--WITH VARIATIONS                  139
+    XV.--IN THE "CORRAL"                          147
+   XVI.--THE INDOOR MEETING                       157
+  XVII.--ALLAN LEAVES THE CLUB TABLE              172
+ XVIII.--AN ALARM OF FIRE                         181
+   XIX.--PETE PUTS THE SHOT                       193
+    XX.--TRACK AND FIELD                          203
+   XXI.--SUNSHINE AND SHADOW                      210
+  XXII.--A NEWSPAPER PARAGRAPH                    218
+ XXIII.--THE FRESHMAN GAME                        227
+  XXIV.--"ON YOUR MARK!"                          239
+   XXV.--THE LAST EVENT                           254
+  XXVI.--"VALE"                                   263
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+                                                             FACING
+                                                               PAGE
+
+  "Fooling?" Burley echoed. "Why, no, I ain't fooling."
+                                                _Frontispiece_
+  A white-clad form sped across the finish.                      11
+  "Sorry you don't approve of them."                             94
+  Pete tipped him over the barrier.                             143
+
+
+
+
+ON YOUR MARK
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE WINNER OF THE MILE
+
+
+"All out for the mile!"
+
+Myer, clerk of the course, stuck his head inside the dressing-tent and
+bawled the command in a voice already made hoarse by his afternoon's
+duties. In response a dozen or so fellows gathered their blankets
+or dressing-gowns about them and tumbled out into the dusk of a
+mid-October evening. Because of the fact that on Wednesday and Saturday
+afternoons the athletic field was required for the football contests
+it was necessary to hold the Fall Handicap Meeting on one of the other
+days of the week. This year it was on Friday, October 17th, and because
+the Erskine College faculty does not permit athletic contests of any
+sort to begin before four o'clock on any day save Saturday, the mile
+run, the last event on the program, was not reached until almost six
+o'clock; and in the middle of October in the latitude of Centerport it
+is almost dark at that time.
+
+It was cold, too. A steady north wind blew down the home-stretch and
+made the waiting contestants dance nimbly about on their spiked shoes
+and rub their bare legs. That wind had helped the sprinters, hurdlers,
+and jumpers very considerably, since it had blown against their backs
+on the straightaway and the runway, enabling them to equal the Erskine
+record in two cases and break it in a third. It was Stearns, '04, the
+track-team captain and crack sprinter who, starting from scratch, had
+performed the latter feat. Until to-day the Erskine record for the
+220-yards dash had been twenty-two seconds flat; this afternoon, with
+the wind behind him all the way, Stearns had clipped a fifth of a
+second from the former time, to the delight of the shivering audience,
+who had cheered the announcement of the result loudly, glad to be able
+to warm themselves with enthusiasm on any pretext.
+
+But if the north wind had been kind to the sprinters, the middle- and
+long-distance men had derived no benefit from it; for while it aided
+them on the home-stretch, it held them back on the opposite side of the
+field. The spectators had already begun to stream away toward college
+when Myer at length succeeded in getting the last of the milers placed
+upon their marks. The two-mile event had been tame, with Conroy, '04,
+jogging over the line a good twenty yards ahead of the second man,
+and there was no reason to expect anything more exciting in the mile.
+Rindgely and Hooker were both on scratch and surely capable of beating
+out any of the ambitious freshmen, who, with a leavening of other
+class men, were sprinkled around the turn as far as the 200 yards.
+To be sure, Rindgely and Hooker might fight it out, but it was more
+probable that they had already tossed a coin between themselves to see
+who was to have first prize and who second. So the audience, by this
+time pretty well chilled, went off in search of more comfortable places
+than Erskine Field; or at least most of them did; a handful joined the
+groups of officials along the track, and jumped and stamped about in an
+attempt to get the blood back into toes and fingers.
+
+Clarke Mason was one of those electing to stay. Possibly the fact
+that he had had the forethought to stop in his room on his way to the
+field and don a comfortable white sweater may have had something to do
+with his decision. At least it is safe to say that the mere fact of
+his being managing editor of the Erskine Purple was not accountable,
+for the Purple had a small but assiduous corps of reporters in its
+employment, one of whom, looking very blue about the nose, Clarke spoke
+to on his way across to where Stearns, having got back into his street
+clothes, was talking to Kernahan, the trainer.
+
+"Well, who's going to win this, Billy?" asked Clarke. (The track
+trainer was "Billy" to only a select few, and many a student, seeking
+to ingratiate himself with the little Irishman, had had his head almost
+snapped off for too familiar use of that first name.) Kernahan looked
+over the contestants and nodded to the men on scratch.
+
+"One of them," he answered.
+
+"Then you have no infant prodigies for this event in the freshman
+candidates?"
+
+"I don't know of any. Two or three of them may turn out fast, but I
+guess they can't hurry Hooker or Rindgely much."
+
+"Who's the chap you've got by himself over there on the turn?" asked
+Stearns.
+
+"That's--I don't mind his name; he's a freshman from Hillton; he wanted
+more handicap, but I couldn't give it to him, not with those legs of
+his. He's built for a runner, anyhow."
+
+"He surely is," answered Stearns, "as far as legs are concerned.
+But legs aren't everything. Hello! you haven't given that little
+black-haired sophomore much of a show; thirty yards won't help him much
+in the mile."
+
+"Track, there!" cried a voice.
+
+The three moved back on to the turf, Kernahan, who was timer, pulling
+out his watch. The dozen or so milers who had been summoned from the
+tent had had their ranks increased by several others. Hooker and
+Rindgely had the scratch to themselves, but the thirty yards held three
+men scarcely less speedy, and from that point onward around the turn
+as far as the middle of the back-stretch the others were scattered
+in little groups of twos and threes. Only the freshman with the long
+legs was alone. He had been given a handicap of 120 yards, and was
+jogging back and forth across the track with the bottom of his drab
+dressing-gown flapping around his slender ankles. Ahead of him in the
+gathering twilight six other runners, in two groups, were fidgeting
+about in the cold. Across the field floated the command to get ready.
+He tossed his wrap aside, revealing a lithe figure of little above
+medium height with long legs in which the muscles played prettily as he
+leaned forward with outstretched arm. At the report of the pistol he
+sprang away with long easy strides that seemed to eat up the distance.
+At the beginning of the home-stretch he had caught up the nearest bunch
+of runners, and at the mark he was speeding close behind the foremost
+men and taking the pace from the leader. It had cost him something to
+gain the position, and to the watchers about the finish it seemed that
+he was already spent.
+
+"Your long-legged freshman's done for, I guess," said Clarke.
+
+"Yes, he's too ambitious. Has a pretty stride, though, hasn't he,
+Billy?" Walter Stearns followed the freshman runner with his gaze while
+he began the turn. Kernahan too was watching him, and with something
+like interest. But all he said was:
+
+"Stride's pretty good; feet drag a good deal, though."
+
+"Who's that closing up?" asked Stearns. "Oh, it's the sophomore chap
+with the black hair. He's an idiot, that's what he is. Look! he's
+trying to pass Long-legs. There he goes! Long-legs has sense, anyhow.
+Sophomore's taken the lead, and look at the pace he's making! Long-legs
+is dropping back; none but a fool would try to keep up to that."
+
+They were at the turn now, and the gathering darkness made it difficult
+to determine who was who. So the watchers gave their attention to
+the scratch-men and one or two stragglers who were bunched together
+half-way down the back-stretch. Rindgely and Hooker were close
+together, the latter putting his toes down squarely into the former's
+prints. Both were running easily and with the consciousness of plenty
+of power in reserve. When the turn was begun they had gained slightly
+on the others near them and were about 120 yards behind the first
+bunch. The black-haired sophomore was still setting the pace when he
+crossed the mark again. Behind him at short intervals sped four others,
+and last in the group came the freshman with the long legs. The
+half-hundred spectators that remained were clustered close to the track
+near the finish and, in spite of chattering teeth, were displaying some
+enthusiasm. A junior named Harris who was running third was encouraged
+lustily, but most of the applause was reserved for the two cracks,
+Rindgely and Hooker; they were well known and well liked; besides, they
+were pretty certain to win, and it is always satisfactory to back the
+victor.
+
+"What's this, the third lap?" Clarke asked, thumping his bare hands
+together. "Well, I'm going back; better come along, Walt. You'll freeze
+here. If we're going to have this sort of weather in October, I'd like
+to know what's going to happen to us in December."
+
+"Well, I guess I'll go along," Stearns said. "It surely is cold, and we
+know how this is going to end. There go Rindgely and Hooker now; watch
+'em overhaul the bunch. If you see Ames, Billy, tell him I said he was
+to look me up to-night, will you?"
+
+"All right," answered the trainer. "But you'd better see this out;
+there's something in the way of a finish coming pretty quick."
+
+"Why, what's up?" asked the track-team captain, turning quickly to
+observe the runners.
+
+"Well, I don't know for sure," answered Kernahan, cautiously, "but the
+scratch-men aren't going to get their mugs without a fight for them,
+I'm thinking."
+
+"Who's in the running?" Stearns asked, eagerly. Once more the first men
+were coming down the home-stretch. But now the order was changed. The
+black-haired sophomore was not in sight, but in his place sped Hooker,
+an easy, confident smile on his face. On his heels was Rindgely. Then
+came the junior, Harris, and beside him, fighting for the pole, was a
+little plump senior. Behind this pair and about five yards distant was
+the long-legged freshman. His head was held well, but his breathing was
+loud and tortured. Stearns looked each man over searchingly. Then he
+turned to the trainer.
+
+"Last lap! Last lap!" was the cry.
+
+"Say, Billy, you don't mean Harris?" shouted Stearns when he could make
+himself heard.
+
+Kernahan shook his head.
+
+"Then who?"
+
+"Keep your eyes on Ware," said the trainer.
+
+"Ware? Who the dickens is Ware?" asked Stearns. But the trainer was
+scattering the spectators from beside the finish, and so paid no heed.
+The stragglers were passing now and the crowd was speeding them along
+with announcements that the last lap had begun and with mildly ironical
+injunctions to "move up head" or "cut across the field." Then all eyes
+were turned to the back-stretch, where the five leaders, survivors of
+a field of some fifteen, were racing along, dim whitish forms in the
+evening twilight. Hooker was setting a hot pace now, and the gaps were
+lengthening. But as the last turn was reached the figures changed their
+positions; some one dropped back; some one else moved suddenly to the
+front. But it was all a blur and the identity of the runners could be
+only surmised.
+
+"That's Rindgely taking the lead, I guess," said Stearns. "That means
+that Hooker's to sprint the last fifty yards or so and get first. But
+I'd like to know who Ware is. Do you know?"
+
+Clarke shook his head.
+
+"Search me," he answered. "Maybe it's the long-legged chap. He's still
+in the bunch, I think."
+
+"Yes, but he was just about done up when the last lap was finished. Did
+you notice? He was gasping. Where's Billy?"
+
+"Over there at the mark. He's holding a watch; if you speak to him now
+he'll jump down your throat. Here they come. Let's move over here where
+we can see."
+
+"Well, whoever's in the lead is making a mighty painful pace for the
+finish of the mile," exclaimed the captain. "Seems to me he's 'way
+ahead, too!"
+
+"It isn't Rindgely," said Clarke, decisively. "It must be----"
+
+"Come on, Freshman!" cried a mighty voice at Clarke's elbow, and a
+big broad-shouldered youth crashed by, sending the editor of the
+Purple reeling on to the cinders, from where he was pulled back by
+Stearns. Clarke glared around in search of the cause of his ignominious
+performance, and saw him standing, a whole head above the crowd, a few
+paces away at the edge of the track. He seemed to be quite unconscious
+of Clarke's anger. Leaning out over the cinders, he was waving a big
+hand and bellowing in a voice that drowned all other cries:
+
+"Come on, Freshman! Dig your spurs in! _Whoo-ee!_"
+
+Clarke's anger gave way to excitement. Down the home-stretch came the
+runners, sprinting for the mark. Stearns was shouting unintelligible
+things at his side and apparently trying to climb his back in order to
+see the finish. The throng was yelling for Hooker, for Rindgely, for
+Harris.
+
+And then, suddenly, comparative silence fell. Twenty yards away the
+runners became recognizable. The crowd stared in wonderment. Well in
+the lead and increasing that lead with every long, perfect stride came
+an unknown, a youth with pale cheeks disked with crimson, a youth
+of medium height with lithe body and long legs that were working like
+parts of machinery. Back of him ran Hooker; beyond, dim figures told of
+a struggle between Rindgely and the junior for third place. It was the
+stentorian voice of the big fellow at the edge of the track that broke
+the momentary silence of surprise.
+
+"Pull up, Freshman, it's all yours!" it shouted.
+
+Then confusion reigned. The little throng raced along the track toward
+the finish. Hooker's friends urged him to win, while others applauded
+the unknown. And in a second it was all over, mile race and fall
+meeting. A white-clad form sped across the finish six yards in the
+lead, tossed his arms in air, swerved to the left, and pitched blindly
+into the throng.
+
+[Illustration: A white-clad form sped across the finish.]
+
+"What's the matter with Seven?" shrieked a small youth at Stearns's
+elbow. The track-team captain turned.
+
+"Who was that fellow that won?" he demanded.
+
+"Ware," was the jubilant reply. "Ware, '07!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+A VISITING CARD
+
+
+When Allan Ware recovered enough to take an interest in things he found
+himself lying in the dressing-tent with some one--it afterward proved
+to be Harris--striving to draw a coat from under him. No one was paying
+any special attention to him, and the tent was filled with the hard
+breathing of the runners, who were now only intent upon getting into
+their clothes. Allan took a deep breath and obligingly rolled over so
+that Harris could have his coat. Then he sat up.
+
+He had not fainted at the end of the race; it is very seldom that
+a runner loses consciousness, no matter how hard or prolonged the
+struggle has been. The collapse is produced by oppression of the
+chest, less frequently of the heart in particular, and the consequent
+difficulty of breathing is the most painful feature of it. Allan had
+been dimly aware from the moment he pitched into the throng until now
+of what had passed, but his interest in events had been slight; he
+knew that arms had reached out and saved him from falling and that
+some one--a very strong some one, evidently--had picked him up like a
+feather and carried him the short distance to the tent. Allan wondered,
+now that he could breathe again without exertion, who the fellow had
+been.
+
+Every one was intent upon dressing and no one looked as though
+expecting thanks. Rindgely, still blowing like a porpoise, was
+balancing himself on one leg and trying to thrust the other into his
+trousers, while he explained to Hooker that the track was like mush and
+no one should be expected to run on it. Hooker, looking amused, grunted
+as he pulled his shirt over his head. Allan scrambled to his feet and
+began to dress. He couldn't help wondering what the others thought of
+his victory; it seemed rather important to him, but he had never won
+a race before, although he had taken part in a good many, and so it
+probably appeared more wonderful than it really was. The trainer stuck
+his head in at the door.
+
+"Hurry up, now," he commanded. "Get up to the gym, and don't be afraid
+of the water when you get there."
+
+This familiar formula met with the usual groans and hoots, and Kernahan
+grinned about the tent. Starting to withdraw his bullet-shaped head
+with its scant adornment of carroty hair, the trainer's eyes fell on
+Allan. He picked his way over the tangle of legs.
+
+"Well, are you done up?" he asked. Allan shook his head.
+
+"That's the boy, then!" continued Billy, heartily. "You'd better come
+out Monday and we'll see what you can do. Did you ever run much?"
+
+"Some," answered Allan, "at school."
+
+"Well, you see me Monday."
+
+When the trainer had gone, Hooker called across:
+
+"Say, Ware, you're done for now."
+
+"How's that?" asked Allan.
+
+"Why, when Billy takes a fancy to you, he just merely works you to
+death. You weigh when you get over to gym and then weigh again, say,
+three weeks from now. You won't know yourself."
+
+A laugh went up. Rindgely chimed in with:
+
+"You'll find your work different from winning a mile with a couple of
+hundred yards handicap."
+
+Allan had only had one hundred and twenty, but he didn't think it worth
+while correcting Rindgely, who was evidently rather sore over his
+defeat. Harris unexpectedly took up for him.
+
+"He didn't have that much handicap, Larry; and if he had, it wouldn't
+have made any difference to you, you old ice-wagon. What was the
+matter with you, anyhow?"
+
+Rindgely entered into elaborate explanations, which concerned the state
+of the track, the injustice of the handicapping, and many other things,
+and Harris laughed them to scorn.
+
+"Oh, you're just lazy," he jibed. "Your name's Lazy Larry."
+
+A howl of delight went up, and Allan looked to see Rindgely become
+angry. But, after a moment of indecision, he added his chuckle to the
+general hilarity. Allan turned to Harris.
+
+"I was rather done up after the run," he said, "and some fellow must
+have lugged me over here. Did you happen to see who he was?"
+
+"Yes; one of your class, a whopping big fellow named Burley. Know him,
+don't you?"
+
+Allan shook his head thoughtfully.
+
+"Well, you will when you see him."
+
+Harris picked up his togs and hurried off. Allan would have liked to
+walk back with him to the gym, but he thought the junior might think
+him "fresh" if he offered his company, and so he started back alone.
+It was almost dark now, and the lights in the college yard and in the
+village were twinkling brightly when he reached the corner of Poplar
+Street and turned down that elm-roofed thoroughfare toward his room.
+Poplar Street ends at Main Street in a little triangular grass-grown
+space known as College Park, and Allan's room was in the rambling
+corner house that faces the park and trails its length along Main
+Street. Allan thought his address sounded rather well: "1 College
+Park" had an aristocratic sound that pleased him. And since he had
+been unable to secure accommodations in one of the dormitories, he
+considered himself lucky to have found such comfortable quarters as
+Mrs. Purdy's house afforded.
+
+His room was large, with two windows in front reaching to the floor and
+four others arranged in couples along the side, and affording a clear
+view of the college yard, from McLean Hall to the library. The fact
+that former denizens had left comfortable window-seats at each side
+casement was a never-failing source of satisfaction to the new occupant
+of what the landlady called the "parlor study." In Allan's case, it was
+study and bedroom too. Next year Allan meant to room in the Yard, and
+for the present he was very well satisfied.
+
+His occupancy of less than a month had not staled the pleasure derived
+from knowing himself sole owner of all the apartment's array of
+brand-new furniture, carpeting, and draperies. To-night, after he had
+lighted all four of the burners in the gilded chandelier above the
+table, he paused with the charred match in hand and looked about him
+with satisfaction.
+
+The carpet was beautifully crimson, the draperies at the windows were
+equally resplendent, if more variegated in hue, the big study-table
+shone richly and reflected the light in its polished top, and the more
+familiar objects on the mantel and on the dark walls, accumulations of
+his school years, seemed to return his gaze with friendly interest.
+To-night, with the knowledge of his victory on the track adding new
+glamour to the scene, it seemed to Allan that his first year of college
+life was destined to be very happy and splendid.
+
+He stayed only long enough to change collar and cuffs, and then, with a
+boy's cheerful disregard of economy, left the four lights flaring and
+hurried across Main Street to Brown Hall and dinner.
+
+The afternoon's work had put a sharp edge on his appetite, and, having
+nodded to one or two acquaintances, he lost no time in addressing
+himself to the agreeable task of causing the total disappearance of
+a plate of soup. His preoccupation gives us an excellent opportunity
+to make a critical survey of him without laying ourselves open to the
+charge of impoliteness.
+
+Allan Ware was eighteen years old, a straight, lithe lad, with rather
+rebellious brown hair and a face still showing the summer's tan. His
+features were not perfect by any means, but they were all good, and
+if you would not have thought of calling the face handsome, you would
+nevertheless have liked it on the instant. There was a clearness and
+steadiness about the brown eyes, a gentleness about the mouth, and a
+firmness about the chin which all combined to render the countenance
+attractive and singularly wholesome. It was a face with which one would
+never think of associating meanness. And yet to jump to the conclusion
+that Allan had never done a mean act would have been rash; he was only
+an average boy, and as human as any of them.
+
+Allan had come up to Erskine from Hillton without heralding; he was
+not a star football player, a brilliant baseball man, nor a famous
+athlete; he had always run in the distances at the preparatory school
+principally because he liked running and not because he believed
+himself cut out for a record breaker. His afternoon's performance had
+been as much of a surprise to him as to any. At Hillton he had been
+rather popular among his set, but he had never attempted to become a
+leader. His classmates had gone to other colleges--many to Harvard and
+Yale, a few to Columbia and Princeton, only one to Erskine. Allan had
+chosen the latter college to please his mother; his own inclinations
+had been toward Yale, for Allan had lived all his life in New Haven,
+and was blue all through.
+
+But Allan's grandfather had gone to Erskine--his name was one of those
+engraved on the twin tablets in the chapel transept, tablets sacred to
+the memories of those sons of Erskine who had given their lives in the
+struggle for the preservation of the Union--and Allan's father had gone
+there, too. Allan couldn't remember very much about his father--the
+latter had died when the boy was ten years old--but he sympathized with
+his mother's wish that he also should receive his education under the
+elms of Centerport.
+
+His family was not any too well supplied with wealth, but his mother's
+tastes were simple and her wants few, and there had always been enough
+money forthcoming for the needs of his sister Dorothy, two years his
+junior, and for himself. If there had been any sacrifices at home, he
+had never known of them. At Hillton he had had about everything he
+wanted--his tastes were never extravagant--and the subject of money had
+never occupied his thoughts. At eighteen, if one is normal, there are
+heaps of things far more interesting than money. One of them is dinner.
+
+Allan was much interested in dinner to-night. He even found it
+necessary to indulge in a couple of "extras," in order to satisfy
+a very healthy appetite. For these he signed with an impressive
+flourish. When the last spoonful of ice-cream had disappeared he
+pushed back his chair and went out. In the coat-room he found a
+dark-complexioned and heavily built youth in the act of drawing on a
+pair of overshoes.
+
+"Couldn't find my boots," explained Hal Smiths, "so I put these over my
+slippers. Wait a minute and I'll go along."
+
+They left the hall together and walked briskly toward Main Street.
+Allan and Hal Smiths had never been particularly intimate at Hillton,
+but as they were the only two fellows from that school in the freshman
+class, they had naturally enough felt drawn toward each other since
+they had reached Erskine. During the last week, however, Hal had been
+making friends fast, and as a consequence Allan had seen less of him.
+Hal had quite a reputation, gained during his last year at Hillton, as
+a full-back, and he was generally conceded to be certain of making the
+freshman football team, if not the varsity second. To-night Hal was
+full of football matters, and Allan let him talk on uninterruptedly
+until they had reached the corner. There:
+
+"Come on down and play some pool," suggested Hal.
+
+But Allan shook his head. He liked pool, but with a condition in
+mathematics to work off it behooved him to do some studying.
+
+"I'll play some other night," he said. And then: "Say, Hal," he asked,
+"do you know a chap in our class named Burley?"
+
+"Pete Burley? Yes; what about him?"
+
+"Oh, nothing. What's he like?"
+
+"Like an elephant," answered Hal, disgustedly. "A big brute of a chap
+from Texas or Montana or somewhere out that way." Hal's ideas of the
+West were rather vague. "Met him the other day; struck me as a big
+idiot. Well, see you to-morrow."
+
+Hal swung off down Main Street and Allan turned toward his room,
+feeling quite virtuous for that he had resisted temptation in the shape
+of pool and was going home to toil. When he opened his door a sheet of
+paper torn from a blue-book fluttered to the floor. There was a pin in
+it and it had evidently been impaled on the door. Allan held it to the
+light and saw in big round, boyish characters the inscription:
+
+"PETE BURLEY."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+ON THE CINDERS
+
+
+On the following Monday, Allan set out after his three-o'clock
+recitation for Erskine Field. He stopped at his room long enough to
+leave his books and get his mail--the Sunday letter from home usually
+put in its appearance on Monday afternoon--and then went on out Poplar
+Street.
+
+It was a fine, mild afternoon, with the sunlight sifting down through
+the branches of the giant elms which line the way, and a suggestion of
+Indian summer in the air. If he hadn't been so busy with his letter he
+could have found plenty to interest him on the walk to the field, but,
+as it was, he was deeply concerned with the news from home.
+
+There was talk, his mother wrote, of closing down the Gold Beetle mine
+out in Colorado, from which distant enterprise the greater part of
+her income had long been derived in the shape of dividends on a large
+amount of stock; the gold-bearing ore had given out and the directors
+were to consider the course to pursue at a meeting in December.
+Meanwhile, his mother explained, the work had stopped, and so had
+the dividends, and she didn't like to consider what would happen if
+this source of income was shut off for all time. Allan tried to feel
+regretful over the matter, since his mother was clearly worried--more
+worried than she was willing to show, had he but known it--but the Gold
+Beetle was a long way off, it always had supplied them with money,
+and the idea that it was now to cease doing so seemed something quite
+preposterous. The Gold Beetle represented the family fortune, about all
+that remained after his father's affairs had been settled.
+
+Allan found other news more to his liking: Dorothy was getting on
+nicely at her new boarding-school and had survived the initial period
+of tragic homesickness; one of Allan's friends at Hillton, now a Yale
+freshman, had called at the house a few days before; and Edith Cinnamon
+had presented the household with a litter of three lovely kittens.
+Edith Cinnamon was the cat, Allan's particular pet, and the news of the
+interesting event remained in his mind after the reprehensible conduct
+of the Gold Beetle mine had departed from it. Mines stand merely for
+money, but kittens are pets, and Allan loved pets. A wonderful idea
+struck him: why not have his mother send him one of the kittens? He
+resolved to confer with Mrs. Purdy on his return; surely she would have
+no objections to his obtaining a room-mate to share the "parlor study"
+with him!
+
+When he had changed his clothes for a running costume in the locker
+house and reached the track he found fully half a score of fellows
+before him. There was Hooker jogging around the back-stretch; nearer
+at hand was Harris practising starts; in a group at the finish of the
+hurdles he saw Stearns, the track-team captain, Rindgely, several
+fellows whose faces he knew but whose names were unknown to him, and
+Billy Kernahan. He drew aside to let a file of runners by and then
+approached the group. Rindgely nodded to him slightly, not with any
+suggestion of unfriendliness, but rather in the manner of one who has
+never been properly introduced. Billy accompanied his salutation with a
+critical survey of the half-clothed figure confronting him.
+
+"How are you feeling to-day?" he asked.
+
+"Fine, thanks!" answered Allan.
+
+"That's the boy! We'll try you at three-quarters of a mile after a
+while. You'd better get warmed up, and then try half a dozen starts."
+
+While the trainer was speaking, Allan was aware of the fact that Walter
+Stearns was observing him with evident interest. When Billy ceased,
+Stearns said something to him in low tones, and the next moment Allan
+found himself being introduced to the track-team captain. Stearns was
+rather under than above medium height, with small features and alert
+eyes of a steel-gray shade that contrasted oddly with his black hair.
+Below his white trunks his legs were thin and muscular, and under the
+faded purple sweater his chest proved itself broad and deep. He spoke
+rapidly, as though his tongue had learned the secret of his legs and
+was given to dashes rather than to sustained efforts.
+
+"Glad to know you, Ware," he said, as he shook hands. "Glad you're
+coming out to help us."
+
+"I don't believe I'll be much help," answered Allan.
+
+"Oh, yes; bound to. I saw you run in the handicaps. That was a mighty
+pretty race you made. By the way, do you know Mr. Long? And this is
+Mr. Monroe. And Mr. Mason. Keep in with Mason. He's office-boy on the
+Purple and writes criticisms of the track team."
+
+Allan shook hands with the three, while the group laughed at Stearns's
+fling at the managing editor of the college weekly. Long was a
+startlingly tall fellow, with a crooked nose and twinkling, yellowish
+eyes, and Monroe was short and thick-set, and looked ill-tempered.
+Mason, Allan recognized as one of a half-dozen men whom he had seen
+about college and as to whose identity he had been curious. Mason was
+the sort of fellow that attracts attention: tall, broad-shouldered,
+with shrewd, kindly eyes behind glasses and a firm mouth under a
+straight and sensitive nose. He looked very much the gentleman, and
+Allan was glad to make his acquaintance. He was in the dark as to what
+position Mason really occupied on the Purple, and so the point of
+Stearns's joke was lost on him. But he smiled, nevertheless, having
+learned that it is sometimes well to assume knowledge when one hasn't
+it.
+
+"See you again," said Stearns. The others nodded with various degrees
+of friendliness and Allan took himself off. The track was in good
+condition to-day and held the spikes firmly. Allan jogged up and down
+the stretch a few times, trying his muscles, which on Saturday had felt
+a bit stiff after the mile run, and lifting his knees high. Then he
+started around the track. Half-way around he drew up behind Hooker.
+
+"Hello!" said the latter. "Nice day, isn't it?"
+
+Allan agreed that it was, and the two went on together to the turn.
+There Hooker turned up the straightaway.
+
+"Going to try starts?" he asked. "Let's go up to the end there."
+
+Allan couldn't see the necessity for becoming proficient in the
+crouching start until Hooker explained as they returned from a brief
+dash, in which the younger lad had been left wofully far behind.
+
+"Sometimes," said Hooker, "you'll want the pole at the start, and if
+you're placed two or three places away from it, you won't get it from a
+stand, you see. But if you use the crouch and get away quick, you have
+a pretty good show of getting ahead of the men who have the inside of
+you. Let's try it again. You give the signal this time."
+
+After ten minutes of it, Allan picked up his sweater and followed
+Hooker down the track to report to Kernahan. The football men had
+taken possession of the gridiron by this time, Long and others were
+practising at the high jump, and altogether the field looked very busy.
+
+"You and Ware try three laps," said the trainer to Hooker. "Watch your
+form, now, and never mind about your time. I'll attend to that for you.
+Take turn about at the pacing; you take the first lap, Hooker. Want to
+get into this, Larry?"
+
+Rindgely nodded and peeled off his sweater. The others had to trot
+about for a minute or two while Rindgely stretched his muscles. Then
+the three got on to the mark, Billy gave the word, and they started
+off at an easy pace, Hooker in the lead, Allan next, and Rindgely in
+the rear. All three hugged the rim of the track and settled down into
+their pace. On the back-stretch they had to slow down once to avoid a
+group of football substitutes who were crossing the cinders, and once
+Rindgely was forced to leap over a ball that came bouncing out onto the
+track, and was much incensed about it. Hooker's pace was wonderfully
+steady, but Allan thought it rather slow. At the mark Billy told them
+to "hit it up a bit now," and Hooker slowed down, letting Allan into
+the lead.
+
+Allan increased the pace considerably. This time there were no
+interruptions, and they neared the end of the second lap fresh and
+untired. Kernahan glanced up from his watch as they sped by.
+
+"All right!" he shouted. "Get up there, Larry, and hold that pace."
+
+Rindgely took the lead. As they commenced the turn Allan's gaze,
+wandering a second from the front, lighted upon a tall, wide-shouldered
+and somewhat uncouth figure at the edge of the track. Strange to say,
+the figure nodded its head at him and waved a hand, and as Allan went
+by there came a stentorian cry of encouragement that might have been
+heard half across the field:
+
+"Chase 'em down, Freshman! Give 'em fits!"
+
+Allan bit his lips angrily as he sped on. What business had that big
+chump yelling at him like that when he didn't even know him? Pretty
+fresh, that's what it was! Allan hadn't made the acquaintances of so
+many fellows but that he could remember them, and he was quite sure
+that he had never met the big chap who had yelled. But at the same
+time there had been something familiar about the fellow's voice--too
+familiar, thought Allan with a grudging smile--and he wondered who he
+might be and why he had singled him out for his unwelcome attentions.
+Then the incident passed for the time out of his mind, for the last
+turn was almost at hand and Rindgely was increasing the pace.
+
+Allan began to feel it at the turn, and when they swung into the
+home-stretch and the pace, instead of settling down to a steady finish,
+grew faster and faster, he came to the unwelcome conclusion that he
+was not in the same class with the other two. Rindgely, in spite of
+all Allan could do, lengthened the space between them. Hooker, seeing
+that Allan was out of it, passed him fifty yards from the mark and
+strove to overhaul the leader. But Rindgely was never headed, and
+finished several yards in front of Hooker and at least thirty ahead of
+Allan. When they turned and jogged back to the trainer, the latter was
+slipping his watch into his pocket.
+
+"What's the good of doing that, Larry?" he asked, disgustedly. "That
+wasn't a race."
+
+"Oh, I just wanted to liven it up a bit," answered Rindgely, grinning.
+"What time did I make, Billy?"
+
+"I didn't take you," answered the trainer, shortly. "That's enough for
+to-day."
+
+Allan turned away with the others, but Billy called him back.
+
+"What was the matter?" he asked. "Pace too hot for you?"
+
+"I suppose so; I couldn't stand that spurt."
+
+"Well, that was some of Larry's nonsense; he'd no business cutting up
+tricks." He was silent a moment, looking across to where the second
+eleven was trying vainly to keep the varsity from pushing over her
+goal-line. Then, "Ever try the two miles?" he asked. Allan shook his
+head.
+
+"I don't believe I'd be any good at it," he answered. "Not that I'm
+any good at the mile, either," he added, somewhat discouraged at the
+outcome of the trial.
+
+"What's the best you ever did at the mile?"
+
+"About four minutes forty-five seconds."
+
+"You did it inside of forty, Friday."
+
+"I did?" Allan looked his surprise. "Oh, but I ran a hundred and twenty
+yards short."
+
+"I allowed for that," answered Billy, quietly. "Now, look here,
+Ware; you've got it in you all right, but you don't make the most of
+yourself. You let your feet drag back badly, and you've been trying
+after too long a stride. You make that shorter by six inches and you'll
+cut off another second after a while. And to-morrow I'll show you what
+I mean about the stride. There's plenty of time before the dual meet
+in the spring, and by then we'll have you doing things right. The only
+thing is," he added, thoughtfully, "whether you wouldn't do better at
+the two miles. What do you think?"
+
+"I really don't know," answered Allan, doubtfully, "but I'd like to try
+it."
+
+"Well, there's lots of time. The indoor meet in Boston comes along in
+February; we'll have you in shape for that, and you can go in for the
+mile and the two miles. Meanwhile, you'd better come out with the other
+men while the decent weather lasts."
+
+"Do you think I can make the team?" Allan asked, hopefully.
+
+"Easy; but they don't take new men on till after the trials in the
+spring."
+
+"Oh!" said Allan, a trifle disappointed.
+
+"Don't let that bother you," advised the trainer. "You're as good as
+on it now. You make the most of the fall training, Ware, and keep fit
+during the winter. I'd go in for hockey or something. Ever play hockey?"
+
+"Yes, but I can't skate well enough."
+
+"Well, get plenty of outdoor exercise of some sort this winter; don't
+let the weather keep you indoors."
+
+"All right, I'll remember." Allan's gaze wandered toward the locker
+building. Half-way across the field a big figure was ambling toward the
+gate, hands in pockets. Allan turned quickly to the trainer. "Do you
+know who that fellow is?" Kernahan's gaze followed his. After a moment:
+
+"That's a freshman named Burley. Know him?"
+
+"No; I just wondered who he was," Allan replied.
+
+"And I don't want to know him," he muttered, irritably, as he trotted
+off to the locker house.
+
+But Fate seldom consults our inclinations.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+HAL HAS AN IDEA
+
+
+It seemed to Allan during the next few days that the bulky form of
+Peter Burley was bent upon haunting him. On Tuesday morning, in
+English, he was aware of Burley's presence a few rows behind him;
+when he looked around, it was to encounter the big fellow's smiling
+regard. There was really nothing offensive in that smile; it was merely
+one of intense friendliness, quite unconventional in its intensity,
+but it irritated Allan greatly. Why couldn't Burley let him alone?
+Just because he had kept him from falling and lugged him to the
+dressing-tent, he seemed to have an idea that Allan was his especial
+property. And then the cheek of scrawling his silly name on a fellow's
+door! And yelling like a three-ply idiot at the track!
+
+Perhaps the fact that Burley, whoever and whatever he was, was markedly
+popular rather increased Allan's prejudice. Wherever Burley sat in
+class there was invariably a good deal of subdued noise and laughter,
+and when he left the hall it was always as the center of a small
+circle of fellows, above which Burley towered head and shoulders.
+Secretly, Allan envied Burley's success with his fellows, but in
+conversation with Smiths he dubbed Burley a mountebank. Hal was visibly
+impressed with the word and used it unflaggingly the rest of the year.
+
+Wednesday, Burley was again on the field, but this time he made no
+remarks as Allan passed him on the track; merely smiled and nodded with
+his offensive familiarity and then turned his attention to the football
+practise. As usual, he was the center of a group, and after Allan had
+passed the turn he heard their laughter and wondered if Burley had
+selected him as a butt for his silly jokes. After that Allan saw him
+at least once a day until on the following Wednesday night, when the
+freshman election took place in Grace Hall, and Burley leaped into even
+greater, and to Allan more offensive, prominence.
+
+There were two leading candidates for the presidency, and, contrary
+to the usual custom, the opposing forces had failed to arrange a
+compromise and a distribution of offices. The contest was prolonged
+and exciting. On the ninth ballot, Mordaunt, a St. Mathias fellow, won
+amidst the howls of the opposition. The rival candidate was elected
+secretary, but promptly and somewhat heatedly declined. New nominations
+were called for, and Burley was proposed simultaneously from two
+sides of the room. His name met with loud applause. Burley, sitting
+unconcernedly near the door, grinned his appreciation of the joke. Two
+other names were offered, and then the balloting began. On the first
+ballot, Peter Burley, of Blackwater, Col., was elected.
+
+Burley tried to get on to his feet to refuse the honor, but owing to
+the fact that three companions held him down while the chairman rapped
+wildly for order, he failed to gain recognition. The next moment the
+election was made unanimous. Allan grunted his disapproval. Hal said it
+didn't much matter who was secretary; anybody could be that.
+
+Hal accompanied Allan back to the latter's room and stayed until late,
+talking most of the time about his chances of making the varsity squad,
+what he was going to do if he didn't, and how he didn't give a rap
+anyway.
+
+"Of course, I can make the freshman team all right, but what's that?
+They have only four outside games scheduled, and two of those don't
+amount to anything; just high schools. The only game they go away for
+is the one with Dexter. And this thing of working hard for a month to
+play the Robinson freshmen isn't what it's cracked up to be."
+
+"Who will win?" asked Allan, suppressing a yawn.
+
+"That's the trouble. It's more'n likely that Robinson will. We've got
+a lot of good men--fast backs and a mighty brainy little quarter--but
+we haven't got any support for our center. Cheesman's a wonder, but he
+can't do much with guards like Murray and Kirk beside him. Why, Kirk
+doesn't weigh a hundred and seventy, and Murray's only a hundred and
+eighty-something. Poor is going to issue another call for candidates;
+he's going to ask every man of a hundred and seventy-five or over to
+come out. Say!"
+
+Hal sat up suddenly in the Morris chair and looked like a Great
+Discoverer.
+
+"Say what?" murmured Allan, drowsily.
+
+"What's the matter with that man Burley?"
+
+"A good deal, I should say, if you ask me," answered Allan.
+
+"I mean for a guard," said Smiths, impatiently.
+
+"He probably never saw a football," objected Allan. "They don't play it
+out West, do they?"
+
+"Don't they, though! Look at Michigan and Wisconsin and--and the rest
+of them!"
+
+"I refuse."
+
+"Why, Burley's just the man! He must weigh two hundred if he weighs a
+pound!"
+
+"Looks as though he might weigh a ton. But if he doesn't know the
+game----"
+
+"How do you know he doesn't?"
+
+"I don't. But if he did know it, wouldn't he have been out before this?"
+
+Smiths was silenced for a moment.
+
+"Well, even if he doesn't know it, he can be taught, I guess. And we've
+got a whole lot of science now; what we need is beef."
+
+"Burley looks more like an ass than a cow," said Allan, disagreeably.
+Smiths stared.
+
+"Say, what's he done to you, anyway? You seem to be beastly sore on
+him."
+
+"I've told you what he's done."
+
+"Oh, that! Besides, he lugged you off the track; that's nothing to get
+mad about, is it?"
+
+"I suppose not; I'm not mad about that--or anything else. He just--just
+makes me tired."
+
+"Well, I'll bet he's our man." Smiths jumped up and seized his cap.
+"I'll run over and tell Poor."
+
+"What, at this time of night?"
+
+"Pshaw! it's only eleven-thirty. He'll be glad to know about it."
+
+"He'll probably pitch you down-stairs, and serve you right."
+
+"Not much he won't. Good night."
+
+"Good night," answered Allan. "I've got some surgeon's plaster, if you
+need it."
+
+Hal Smiths slammed the door and took the front porch in one leap. Then
+the gate crashed. Allan listened intently.
+
+"That's funny!" he muttered. "He must have missed the lamp-post!"
+
+He took up a book, found a pencil, and opened the table-drawer in
+search of a pad. As he did so, his eyes fell on a folded sheet of lined
+paper. He read the penciled words on it--"Peter Burley"--and, refolding
+it after a moment of indecision, tucked it back in a corner of the
+drawer, frowning deeply the while.
+
+Allan didn't see Hal the next day; neither was the objectionable Burley
+visible on the field in the afternoon when Allan ran his first practise
+over the mile. Kernahan didn't hold the watch on him, the distance was
+unfamiliar to him, and he lost all idea of his time after the fourth
+lap, and ended pretty well tuckered out.
+
+"All right," said the trainer, when it was over. "You ran it a bit too
+fast at the start. But you'll get onto it after a while."
+
+On Friday Allan saw Hal only for an instant and had no chance to
+question him as to the result of his midnight visit to the freshman
+football captain. Consequently, it was not until Saturday that
+he learned of Burley's appearance on the field as a candidate for
+admission into the freshman team. There was no track work that
+afternoon, since the Erskine varsity played State University. Allan
+went out to the field alone and watched the game from the season-ticket
+holders' stand, and cheered quite madly when the Erskine quarter-back,
+availing himself for the first time of the new rules, seemed to pass
+the ball to a trio of plunging backs, and after an instant of delay set
+off almost alone around State's left end with the pigskin cuddled in
+his arm, and flew down the field for over seventy yards to a touch-down.
+
+That settled the score for the first half, and the teams trotted off
+with honors even. There was a good deal of dissatisfaction expressed in
+Allan's neighborhood over the playing of the home team, and much gloomy
+prophecy was indulged in in regard to the outcome of the final and
+most important game of the season--that with Erskine's old-time rival,
+Robinson University.
+
+About the middle of the intermission, Allan heard his name called, and
+looked down to see a small, sandy-haired fellow waving a note-book
+at him. Allan waved back, and the owner of the note-book--the latter
+his never-absent badge of office--climbed up the seats and was duly
+pummeled and laid hold of on his way. Tommy Sweet was a Hillton
+fellow, and considering that he had been a class ahead of Allan at
+that school, the two had been quite friendly there until Sweet had
+gone up to Erskine. So far Allan had not seen much of him, for Tommy
+was "on the Purple," as he liked to put it, and was an extremely busy
+youth. Tommy's friends declared he would find something to do if he was
+strapped in bed.
+
+The key-note of Tommy was eagerness. His wide-open blue eyes were
+always staring about the world in search for something to engage his
+attention, and his ridiculously small mouth was forever pursed into
+something between a grin and an exclamation-point. His hair was just
+the color of tow, and the freckles which covered every available
+portion of his face were several shades darker, but harmonized
+perfectly. He was tireless in the search for news for the Purple, and
+when it came to activity would have made the proverbial ant or beaver
+look like a sluggard. Tommy thought sleep a criminal waste of time, and
+even begrudged the moments spent in eating.
+
+Tommy was only perfectly happy when doing four things at once; less
+than four left him dull and dissatisfied. Clarke Mason once said:
+"I'll bet some day Tommy will commit second-degree murder so they'll
+give him hard labor for life." For the rest he was a cheerful, likable
+fellow, aggressively honest and painfully conscientious.
+
+"What did you think of that run of Cutler's?" he asked, breathlessly,
+as he sank onto the seat at Allan's side. "Peach, wasn't it? It'll
+show up great in the diagram I'm making; see!" He opened his note-book
+and exhibited a puzzling maze of lines and dots, figures and letters.
+"That's the first half. Everything's there--runs, kicks, plunges,
+penalties, the whole show."
+
+"What's it for?" asked Allan. "Anything to do with geometry?"
+
+"Why, no; it's-- Oh, quit your kidding! It's to go with my report of
+the game. It shows how the gains were made and who made 'em. And I've
+introduced something new in diagrams, too. See these figures along the
+edge here--4:17, 4:22, and so on?"
+
+"Well, I see something there, I think," answered Allan, cautiously.
+
+"Those signify the time each play was made," said Tommy, triumphantly.
+"That's never been done before, you know."
+
+"I see. But it must keep you pretty busy. Do you have to write the game
+up, too?"
+
+"Oh, yes." Tommy showed three or four pages of awful-looking scrawls
+from a fountain-pen. "That's done in a sort of shorthand, and I write
+it out full length at the office. Say, where did you tell me your
+room was? I meant to put it down, but forgot it. Purdy's? Oh, yes; I
+know where that is. I want to come around some evening, if I can ever
+find the time. How are you getting on? Anything I can do for you? Any
+fellows you'd like to meet? No? Well, let me know if I can do anything
+for you. Very glad to, you know. That was quite a race you made the
+other day. Billy seems to have taken a fancy to you, doesn't he? He's
+all right, Allan; you shine up to him and-- Hello! there's a fellow I
+want to see. Come and see me, will you? Twenty-two Sesson, you know. So
+long, old chap!"
+
+Tommy hurried pell-mell down the stand, shaking off detaining hands,
+and disappeared into the throng. Allan took a long breath; he felt as
+though a small hurricane had been playing with him. The teams came onto
+the field again and the second half began. It proved uninteresting,
+and only the superior weight of the Erskine eleven won them the game
+finally by the close margin of a safety. Allan followed the throng out
+of the enclosure and across toward the locker house and the gate. But
+half-way there the crowd divided, and Allan presently found himself
+looking on at the practise of the freshman teams. The first team had
+the ball on the second's five-yard line and was trying very hard
+to put it over to an accompaniment of command and entreaty from the
+coaches.
+
+"Third down and two to go!" some one shouted. A shrill voice called a
+jumble of figures and a tandem slid forward at a tangent, and for an
+instant confusion reigned. Then suddenly a roar of laughter went up,
+the line of watchers broke forward, and Allan found himself directly
+in the path of what at first glance looked like an avalanche of canvas
+and leather. Springing back, he escaped being borne along by the
+group of struggling players, in the center of which, rising like a
+city sky-scraper out of a huddle of shanties, stood forth, calm and
+determined, the countenance of Peter Burley.
+
+In his arms, struggling but helpless, was the first eleven's left
+half-back, and to his back and legs and, in short, to every portion
+of his anatomy, hung the enemy, for all the world like bees on a nest
+in swarming time. Behind them the second eleven pushed and shoved,
+and relentlessly the whole mass moved down the field. And somewhere,
+drowned by the laughter of the spectators and the despairing shrieks of
+"Down! Down!" from the abducted half-back, sounded feebly the referee's
+whistle.
+
+One by one the impeditive players dropped away, and Burley's
+triumphant advance toward the enemy's goal was stopped by the referee
+and two coaches. Burley set down the half-back, in whose arms the
+pigskin was still clutched, but did not release his grasp until his
+obligations were hurriedly but clearly explained to him. Then he patted
+the half-back on the shoulder in a paternal manner and retraced his
+steps to the enthusiastic applause of the convulsed throng. The second
+team hugged as much of him as they could encompass and he smiled
+cheerfully, but was evidently still somewhat perplexed. The ball went
+to the second on her eight yards and the game continued, Burley, at
+right guard, looming head and shoulders above his companions.
+
+Allan watched the game for a few moments longer, and then continued his
+journey. Somehow the calm, inscrutable manner in which the big freshman
+had strode down the field in unquestioning obedience to what he had
+supposed to be his duty appealed to Allan. It had been awfully funny,
+and Allan smiled as he recalled it. But the incident had held for him
+something more than humor, just what he hardly knew; but whatever it
+was, and even though he would have found it difficult to give a name to
+it, it completely changed his feeling toward Burley. By the time he had
+reached Mrs. Purdy's front gate, he was wondering whether Burley still
+desired his acquaintance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+"MR. PETER BURLEY, BLACKWATER, COL."
+
+
+Hal Smiths dropped in after dinner that evening and Allan brought the
+conversation around to the subject of Burley, whose performance during
+practise had been the chief topic at the dinner-table.
+
+"Why, Poor was awfully pleased at my suggestion," said Hal, "after I
+found him. It was after twelve then, and I'd chased half over college
+looking for him. He said he wasn't very good at persuasion and thought
+Burley would require lots of it; so he asked me to see him. Poor's a
+pretty good little chap, so I went. Burley was awfully decent. Said he
+had never played and had never even seen the game until he came here;
+said he hadn't been able to find out what it was all about, but that if
+we wanted him to try it, why, of course, he would. Said he thought it
+looked like pretty good fun, and got me to sort of explain it a bit.
+One thing he wanted to know," laughed Hal, "was whether you could hit a
+man if he didn't have the ball."
+
+"Well, he played it for all it was worth this afternoon," said Allan,
+smiling. "You heard about it, didn't you?"
+
+"No; what was it? I sat on the side line all afternoon, and waited to
+get a whack at State University. What did Burley do?"
+
+So Allan told him, and Hal laughed until the tears came.
+
+"Oh, he's a genius, he is!" he said.
+
+After a minute of chuckling, he went on:
+
+"Look here, Allan, I think you'd rather like him if you got to know
+him. He's--he's rather a decent sort, after all. I didn't take to him
+at first, of course, but--and I don't say now that he's the sort of
+chap you'd want to ask home and introduce to your people; he's kind of
+free and easy, and you couldn't be sure he wouldn't drink the catsup
+out of the bottle or slap your governor on the back--but he's--well,
+there's something about him you can't help liking," he ended, with an
+apologetic tone.
+
+"Maybe I would," answered Allan, pleasantly. Hal looked surprised.
+
+"He's given up the class secretaryship, you know," he announced.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"I don't know for sure, but Poor says he told him it was because he
+didn't think he'd be here much after the holidays."
+
+"Where's he going?" asked Allan.
+
+"Don't know. Funny idea, to come to college for half a year. Maybe----"
+
+There were footsteps on the porch, the front portal opened with a
+crash, and an imperative knock sounded on the room door. Allan jumped
+to his feet. Could it be fire? he wondered, shooting a bewildered
+glance at Hal. He hurried to the door just as the hammering began
+again, more violently than before. Hal raised himself uneasily from the
+Morris chair, prepared for the worst. Allan called, "_Come in!_" and
+the door was flung open.
+
+Entered Tommy Sweet!
+
+"You thundering idiot!" bawled Hal. "I thought it was at least the
+Dean! You can make more-- Hello, Burley! Glad to see you."
+
+"This is Mr. Burley, Allan," Tommy was saying. "Brought him around
+'cause I wanted you to know each other. Mr. Ware--Mr. Burley."
+
+Allan felt his hand enveloped in something large and warm and
+vise-like. He felt his fingers crushed together, thought he could hear
+the bones breaking--and still managed to smile painfully, but politely,
+the while. Then Burley had dropped his hand and was saying:
+
+"I've wanted to know you ever since I saw you win that running race
+the other day. Came around here and left a card on you, but I guess you
+didn't find it."
+
+Allan murmured his appreciation, but remained silent as to the "card."
+
+"I told Sweet here that you'd win that race. Offered to bet him
+anything he liked. He wouldn't bet, though." Peter Burley took the
+chair proffered by Hal and carefully lowered himself into it.
+
+"They told me you carried me over to the tent," said Allan. "Much
+obliged, I'm sure."
+
+"Welcome," answered the other, heartily. "You didn't weigh anything to
+mention."
+
+"Not as heavy as the freshman team, eh?" asked Tommy. Burley looked
+apologetically around the circle.
+
+"I suppose every one's heard of that fool thing?" he asked.
+
+"Just about every one, I guess," laughed Tommy.
+
+"That comes of trying to do something you don't know how to do. This
+fellow Smiths here came around to my shack the other day and said the
+class wanted me to play football because I weigh some. Well, ginger! I
+didn't know anything about the thing, and I told him so. But he would
+have it that I must play. And look what happens! I make a measly show
+of myself right out there on the range in front of the whole outfit!"
+
+"No harm done," said Hal. "You did what you tried to."
+
+"No, I didn't. There was a little cuss there in a Derby hat wouldn't
+let me. I was going to take that half-backed fellow down to the other
+end and throw him over the line. That's what I was going to do. They
+didn't tell me I had to slap him on the chest and butt him with my
+head."
+
+"But, you see," explained Allan, "he called 'Down' just when you began
+to lug him off."
+
+"That's what they said. I was supposed to let go of him when he said
+that, but I just thought he was throwing up the sponge and wanted me to
+let him down. If I'd known he could have spoiled it by yelling 'Down,'
+I'd have held his mouth shut."
+
+This summoned laughter, and Burley glanced around at the others in
+wide surprise. Allan felt surprise, too. Was Burley really quite
+so unsophisticated as he seemed, he wondered, or-- His glance met
+Burley's. The big fellow's right eyelid dropped slowly in a portentous
+wink. Allan smiled. His question was answered. While the others entered
+into an explanation and discussion of the rules and ethics of football,
+Allan studied the Westerner.
+
+Peter Burley looked to be, and was, twenty years of age. In form he was
+remarkably large; he was an inch over six feet tall, and weighed 203
+pounds. Nowhere about him was there evidence of unnecessary fat, but
+he was deep of chest and wide of shoulder and hips. His hands and feet
+were large, and the latter were encased in enormously heavy shoes.
+
+When it came to features, Burley was undeniably good-looking in a
+certain breezy, unconventional way. (Allan soon found that Burley's
+breeziness and absence of convention were not confined to his looks.)
+Burley's hair was brown, of no particular shade, and his eyes matched
+his hair. His nose was big and straight and his mouth well shaped. His
+cheeks were deeply tanned, but showed little color beneath. His usual
+expression was one of careless, whimsical good nature, but there was an
+earnest and kindly gleam in the brown eyes that lent character to the
+face. He talked with a drawl, and pronounced many words in a way quite
+novel to Allan. But--and this Allan discovered later--when occasion
+required, he was capable of delivering his remarks in a sharp, incisive
+way that made the words sound like rifle-shots. At the present moment
+he was talking with almost exaggerated deliberateness.
+
+"Sweet says you and he went to a preparatory school together," he said,
+turning to Allan. "I wish my old man had sent me to one of those
+things. What was your school like?"
+
+Allan told him of Hillton, and Tommy and Hal chimed in from time to
+time and helped him along. It was a large subject and one they liked,
+and half an hour passed before they had finished. Burley listened with
+evident interest, and only interrupted occasionally to ask a question.
+
+"How'd you happen to come to Erskine?" asked Tommy, when the subject
+had been exhausted. Burley took one big knee into his hands and
+considered the question for a moment in silence.
+
+"Well, I'll tell you," he said at last. "You see, I had a go at
+the university over in Boulder; that's near Denver," he explained,
+parenthetically. "But we didn't get on very well together, the faculty
+and me, and I was always turning up at the ranch. Well, the old man got
+tired of seeing me around so much; said he'd paid for my keep at the
+university, and I'd ought to stay there and get even with the game.
+But, ginger! the corral wasn't big enough. Every time I'd try to be
+good, something would come along and happen, and--first thing I knew,
+I'd be roaming at large again. So the old man said he guessed what I
+needed was to get far enough away from home so I wouldn't back-trail
+so often; said there wasn't much doing when I went to college Monday
+morning and showed up for feed Thursday night. First he tried taking my
+railroad pass away; but when I couldn't scare up the money, I rode home
+on a freight. I got to know the train crews on the D. & R. G. pretty
+well long toward spring. When vacation came, we all agreed to call
+it off--the faculty and the old man and me. So I went up to Rico and
+fooled around a mine there all summer. When----"
+
+"What was the name of the mine?" asked Allan, eagerly.
+
+"This one was the Indian Girl. There's lots of 'em thereabouts. The old
+man----"
+
+"Say, is the 'old man' your father?" asked Tommy.
+
+"Yes; why?"
+
+"Nothing, only I should think he'd lick you if he heard you calling him
+that."
+
+"Oh, he doesn't mind. Besides, he isn't really old; only about forty.
+He calls me Kid, too," he added, smiling broadly. "Well, in the summer
+he wanted to know where I'd rather go to college--Yale, Harvard,
+Princeton, Pennsylvania; he said he didn't care so long as it was
+far enough away to keep me from diggin' out for home every week and
+presenting myself with vacations not down on the calendar. Well, there
+was a fellow up at the mine named Thompson; he was superintendent.
+I was helping him--or thought I was--and so we got to be pretty good
+friends. He was a nice little fellow, about as high as a sage-bush, and
+as plucky as a bulldog. Well, he went to college here about ten years
+ago, and he used to tell me a good deal about the place. So, when the
+old man said, 'Which is it?' I told him Erskine. He said he'd never
+heard tell of it, but so long as it was about two thousand miles from
+Blackwater he guessed it would do. And that's how. Now you talk."
+
+"That's the first time I ever heard of choosing a college because it
+was a long way from home," laughed Hal. "I'd like to meet that father
+of yours."
+
+"Better go back with me Christmas," said Burley. Hal stared at him
+doubtfully, undecided whether to laugh or not. "Of course," continued
+Burley, carelessly, "we haven't got much out there. It's pretty much
+all alfalfa and sage-bush around Blackwater. But the hills aren't far,
+and there's good hunting up toward Routt. You fellows all better come;
+the old man would be pleased to have you."
+
+Hal stared wide-eyed.
+
+"Aren't you fooling?" he gasped.
+
+"Fooling?" Burley echoed. "Why, no, I ain't fooling. What's wrong?"
+
+"Nothing; but of course we couldn't do it, you know; at least, I'm
+plumb sure I couldn't." Hal looked doubtfully at the others.
+
+"Nor I," said Allan. "I only wish I could."
+
+"Same here," said Tommy, wistfully. "I'd give a heap to have the
+chance."
+
+"Sorry," answered Burley. "Perhaps in the summer, or some other time,
+when you haven't got anything better. I suppose your folks want you at
+home Christmas?"
+
+"Y-yes," replied Hal, "but it isn't altogether that; there's the
+expense, you see."
+
+"Oh, it wouldn't cost you anything much," said Burley. "It's all on me.
+You'd better say you'll come."
+
+Hal's eyes opened wider than before.
+
+"You mean you'd pay our fares--all our fares--out to Colorado and
+back?" he asked.
+
+"Sure. We'd only have about a week out there, but we could do a lot of
+damage in a week."
+
+Hal was silent from amazement. Allan stammered his thanks. Tommy merely
+sat and stared at Burley, as though fascinated. The latter translated
+silence into assent.
+
+"Well, we'll call it fixed, eh?" he asked, heartily.
+
+"Thunder, no!" exploded Hal. "We couldn't do that, Burley. We're
+awfully much obliged, but, of course, if we went out there to visit
+you, we'd pay our own way. And I don't believe any of us could do
+that--this Christmas, at least."
+
+"Oh, be good!" said Burley. "Now, look here; I'd let you do that much
+for me."
+
+"But we couldn't," said Allan.
+
+"Well, you would if you could, of course; wouldn't you, now?"
+
+"Why--er--I suppose we would," Allan faltered.
+
+"Well, there you are!" said Burley, triumphantly. "That settles it."
+
+It took the others some time to prove to him that it didn't settle it,
+and Burley listened with polite, but disapproving, attention. When the
+argument was concluded, he shook his head sorrowfully.
+
+"You're a lot of Indians!" he said. "You're not doing the square thing
+by me, and I'm going to pull my freight." He drew himself out of the
+chair and rescued his big felt hat from beneath it. There was a general
+pushing back of chairs. "You and Mr. Ware must come around to my tepee
+some night soon," Burley told Hal, "and we'll have another pow-wow.
+Seems like I'd done all the chinning to-night." He shook hands with
+Allan, who strove to bear the pain with fortitude and only grimaced
+once, and said in quite a matter-of-fact way, "I guess you and I are
+going to be partners. Good night."
+
+Allan muttered that he hoped so, and after the three visitors had taken
+their departures he examined his hand under the light to see if bruises
+or dislocations were visible.
+
+"I wonder," he asked himself, with a rueful smile, "if he shakes hands
+very often with his partners?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+"RIGHT GUARD BACK!"
+
+
+November started in with an Indian summer, but by the middle of the
+month the spell had broken, and a week of hard, driving rain succeeded
+the bright weather. Until then Allan had spent almost every afternoon
+on the cinder-track, running the half mile at good speed, doing the
+mile and a half inside his time, occasionally practising sprinting,
+and, once a week, jogging around until he had left nine laps behind him
+and had covered a quarter of a mile over his distance.
+
+For by this time Kernahan had decided that the two-mile event was what
+he was cut out for, but promised him, nevertheless, that at the indoor
+athletic meeting, in February, he should be allowed to try both the
+mile and the two miles. The trainer's instruction had already bettered
+Allan's form; his stride had lost in length and gained in speed and
+grace until it became a subject for admiring comment among the fellows.
+
+The Purple, in an article on Fall Work of the Track Team Candidates,
+hailed "Ware '07" as "a most promising runner, and one who has
+improved rapidly in form since the Fall Handicaps until at present he
+easily leads the distance men in that feature. It is Mr. Kernahan's
+intention," concluded the Purple, "to develop Ware as a two-miler,
+since this year, as in several years past, there is a dearth of
+first-class material for this distance."
+
+But the rains put an end to the track work, as they put an end to all
+outdoor activities save football, and training was practically dropped
+by the candidates. On three occasions, when the clouds temporarily
+ceased emptying themselves onto a sodden earth, the middle and long
+distance candidates were sent on cross-country jogs and straggled home
+at dusk, very wet and muddy, and much out of temper. A week before
+Thanksgiving the sky became less gloomy and a sharp frost froze the
+earth till it rang like metal underfoot.
+
+It was on one such day, a Saturday, that the Robinson freshman football
+team came to town and, headed by a brass band, marched out to the
+field to do battle with the Erskine youngsters. The varsity team had
+journeyed from home to play Artmouth, and consequently the freshman
+contest drew the entire college and town, and enthusiasm reigned
+supreme in spite of the fact that a Robinson victory was acknowledged
+to be a foregone conclusion.
+
+Allan and Tommy Sweet watched the game from the side lines; Tommy, with
+note-book in hand, darting hither and thither from one point of vantage
+to another, and Allan vainly striving to keep up with him. The latter
+had gained admission beyond the ropes by posing as Tommy's assistant;
+the assistance rendered consisted principally of listening to Tommy's
+breathless comment on the game.
+
+"Oh, rotten!" Tommy would snarl. "Two yards more!... Oh; perfectly
+rotten!... See that pass? See it? What? Eh, what?... Now, watch this!
+Watch-- What'd I say? Good work, Seven!... Now, that's playing!...
+Third down and one to-- What's that? Lost it? Lost nothing! Why,
+look where the ball is! How can they have lost-- Hey! how's that for
+off-side? Just watch that Robinson left end; look! See that?... Three
+yards right through the center! What was Burley doing?... Well, here
+goes for a touch-down. There's no help now!... Another yard!... Two
+more!... Did they make it? Did they?... _Hi-i-i! Our ball!_"
+
+It was a very pretty game, after all, and when the first half ended
+with the score only 5 to 0, in the visitors' favor, Erskine's hope
+revived, and during the intermission there was much talk of tying
+the score, while some few extremely optimistic watchers hinted at
+an Erskine victory. Considering the fact that the purple-clad team
+was twelve pounds lighter than its opponent, this was a good deal to
+expect, and Tommy, a fair example of conservative opinion, declared
+that the best he looked for was to have the second half end with
+the score as it then stood. But a good many guesses went wrong that
+afternoon.
+
+Erskine had played on the defensive during the first half, and when,
+after receiving Robinson's kick-off, she punted the ball without trying
+to run it back, it seemed that she was continuing her former tactics.
+The punt was a good one and was caught on Robinson's thirty-yard line.
+The Brown accepted the challenge and returned the kick. It went to
+Erskine's forty-five yards. Again Poor punted, and the ball sailed down
+to the Brown's fifteen yards, where it was gathered into a half-back's
+arms. Erskine had gained largely in the two exchanges of punts, and her
+supporters cheered loudly, while Robinson, realizing discretion to be
+the better part of valor, refrained from further kicking and ran the
+ball back ten yards before she was downed.
+
+And then, as in the first period of play, she began to advance the
+pigskin by fierce plunges at the Erskine line. But now there was a
+perceptible difference in results, a difference recognized by the
+spectators after the first two attacks. Robinson wasn't making much
+headway. Twice she barely made her distance; the third time she failed
+by six inches and, amidst cheering plainly heard on the campus, Erskine
+took the ball on her opponent's twenty-five yards. The first plunge
+netted a bare yard, yet it carried the ball out of the checker-board,
+and a line-man dropped back. Tommy set up a shout.
+
+"It's Burley! They're going to play him back of the line!"
+
+There was no doubt about it's being Burley. He loomed far above the
+rest of the backs, and even when, his hands on the full-back's hips, he
+doubled himself up for the charge, he was still the biggest object on
+the field. The stands danced with delight.
+
+So far there had been no hint of the big right guard taking part in the
+tandem attacks; in fact, his presence on the team was doubtful until
+the last moment, for Burley's development as a football player had been
+discouragingly slow, in spite of his weight and strength and cheerful
+willingness. Even yet he possessed only a partial understanding of the
+game. He did what he was told to do, and did it as hard as he knew
+how; that constituted the extent of his science. The stands composed
+themselves, and breathless suspense reigned. Poor's shrill pipe was
+heard reeling off the signals, and then--
+
+Then the advance began.
+
+Robinson had played hard every moment of the first thirty-five minutes,
+and she had played on the offensive. Erskine had played hard too, but
+her playing had been defensive. To attack is more tiring than to repel
+attack, and now what difference there was in condition was in Erskine's
+favor. Her defensive tactics were suddenly abandoned, and from that
+moment to the final whistle she forced the fighting every instant of
+the time.
+
+Peter Burley was, to use Tommy's broken, breathless words, "simply
+great." He knew little or nothing about line-plunging. He didn't do any
+of the things coaches instruct backs to do. He merely waded into and
+through the opponents, without bothering his head with the niceties
+of play. If the hole was there, well and good; he went through it and
+emerged on the other side with half the Robinson team clinging to
+him. If the hole wasn't there, well and good again; he went through
+just the same, only he didn't go so far. But there was always a good
+gain--sometimes a yard, sometimes two, sometimes three or four.
+
+When the whistle blew, Burley climbed to his feet and ambled back to
+his position, unruffled and unheeding of the bruises that fell to his
+share. Nine plunges brought the ball to Robinson's five yards. There
+the Brown line held for an instant. The first down netted a bare yard,
+the second brought scarcely as much. The cheering, which had been
+continuous from the first attack, died down, and a great silence fell.
+Tommy was nibbling the corner off his note-book, and Allan, kneeling
+beside him, was nervously biting his lip. Poor drew Burley and the
+backs aside for a whispered consultation. Then the players took their
+positions again, and--
+
+Presto! Erskine had scored!
+
+Without signals, the tandem had plunged onto the Robinson left tackle,
+Burley's leather head-guard had been seen for an instant tossing
+high above a struggling mass, and then had disappeared, and chaos
+had reigned until the referee's whistle commanded a cessation of
+hostilities. When the piled-up mass was removed, Burley was found
+serenely hugging the ball to his chest a yard over the line.
+
+While the stands cavorted and cheered, Poor kicked the goal. Erskine
+was already victorious, and Robinson's youngsters seemed to realize
+the fact. For, though they fought valiantly and doggedly for twenty
+minutes longer, it was evident that they no longer looked for victory.
+With every repulse their defense grew perceptibly weaker, while their
+rivals, as though they had husbanded their strength until now, made
+each attack fiercer than the one before, until in the last ten minutes
+of the contest they simply drove the Brown before them at will. Long
+before the game was at an end the stands began to empty; there was
+small pleasure in seeing a defeated enemy humbled. When the final
+whistle blew, the score stood 17 to 5, and Peter Burley, breathing hard
+through bleeding and swollen lips, said "he guessed he was ready to
+have his oats and be bedded down."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+"THE RANCH"
+
+
+It is human nature to dwell at length upon our successes and dismiss
+our failures with a word. The writer has given a chapter to the
+freshman game, but he is going to tell the story of the varsity
+contest, which occurred a week later, in a paragraph.
+
+Robinson won in a clean, hard-fought game--11 to 0. Her rival never
+approached a score in either half, but by the grimmest sort of
+defensive work she managed to keep the final figures down to half of
+what they might have been had she gone to pieces for an instant. Hal
+played a brilliant game at full-back in that contest, and proved his
+right to the position. Thus the football season at Erskine ended in
+decisive defeat. It was an honorable defeat, to be sure; but, since at
+Erskine, as at other colleges in this country, they play more for the
+sake of winning than for love of the game, there were doleful faces
+a-plenty, and on Sunday the college had the appearance of a place
+smitten with the plague.
+
+But Monday morning came and brought recitations and lectures, just as
+though there was no such thing as football, and the college settled
+back into the usual routine. At noon the sting of defeat was forgotten.
+At night, fellows were cheerfully discussing the chances for the next
+year. If we take defeat too hard, at least we recover quickly; there is
+hope for us in that.
+
+Allan, for all that he was quite as patriotic as any, felt the defeat
+of the varsity team less than he did the cessation of track work. The
+latter left him at first feeling like a fish out of water. Tommy Sweet
+suggested that he might rig up a treadmill in his room and run to his
+heart's content, like a squirrel in a wire cage. But Tommy wouldn't
+promise to feed him all the peanuts he could eat, and so Allan refused
+to try the scheme. Instead, he spent much of his time out-of-doors and
+took long walks and runs out along the river or struck off westward to
+Millport.
+
+On many of these excursions he was accompanied by Peter Burley.
+Peter--or more properly Pete, since that was the name he declared to
+be the proper one--Pete couldn't be persuaded to do any running, but
+he was willing to walk any distance and in any direction, seeming to
+care very little whether he ever got back to Centerport or didn't. And
+as his long legs took him over the ground about as fast as Allan could
+jog, the latter never suffered for want of exercise while in Pete's
+company.
+
+The friendship between the two had grown rapidly, until now Pete's
+prophecy that they were to be "partners" had come true. The more
+Allan saw of the older boy the more he found to like, but just what
+the qualities were which drew him to Pete he would have found it hard
+to tell. The latter's never-failing good-nature was undoubtedly one
+of them, but that alone was not accountable. Perhaps Pete would have
+experienced quite as much difficulty had he been called upon to say why
+he had been attracted by Allan the first time he had seen him, or why
+he had perseveringly sought his friendship ever since. The two were
+radically dissimilar, but even that isn't sufficient to explain why
+each was attracted toward the other. Come to think of it, however, I
+don't believe either Allan or Pete troubled himself about the problem,
+and so why should we?
+
+Pete's sudden leap into fame consequent upon his work against Robinson
+in the freshman game had left him unaffected. He had become a college
+hero in an hour, but none could see that it ever made any difference
+to him. He brushed congratulation aside good-naturedly and ridiculed
+praise.
+
+"Stop your fool talk!" he would say. "I didn't rope any steers. It was
+that little jack-rabbit, Poor, that whooped things up and won the
+game. I didn't do a thing but shove 'em round some." And when it was
+hinted that the shoving around was what brought victory, "Get out!" he
+would growl. "Science is what does the business, and I don't know the
+first thing about the game."
+
+And so, while Peter was worshiped by the freshman class and very
+generally respected by the others, he wasn't at all the popular
+conception of a college hero. And there were three fellows, at least,
+who liked him all the better for it.
+
+Those three were Allan, Tommy, and Hal. Since that first meeting in
+Allan's room, the four had been much together. Tommy showed up at the
+gatherings less frequently than any one of the others, for Tommy, in
+his own words, "had a lot of mighty difficult stunts to do."
+
+Sometimes the quartet met in Allan's room, sometimes in Hal's, less
+frequently in Tommy's--for Tommy lived up two flights of stairs in
+McLean Hall, and Pete had a horror of climbing stairs. The only
+climbing he liked, he said, was climbing into a saddle. That was why he
+often found fault with his own apartments.
+
+These were on the second floor of a plain clap-boarded building at
+the corner of Town Lane and Center Street, with the railroad but a
+few hundred feet distant and the fire-house next door. Pete declared
+he liked the noise, and could never study so well as when the
+switch-engine was shunting cars to and fro at the end of the lane or
+the fire-bell was clanging an infrequent alarm. As few ever saw him
+studying, the statement sounded plausible.
+
+The ground floor of the building was occupied by a dealer in harness
+and leather; the third floor consisted of an empty loft. Across the
+lane--and the lane wasn't wide enough to boast of--was a livery stable.
+On the opposite corner was a carriage repair-shop and warehouse. A few
+doors below was a wheelwright's. The upper floors of the neighboring
+structures were occupied by carpenters, plumbers, roofers, and masons.
+
+Through Pete's windows, which were invariably open, be the weather what
+it might, floated in a strange and penetrating aroma--a mingled bouquet
+of coal-smoke from the railroad, of the odor of pine-shavings from the
+carpenter shops, of the pungent smell of leather from below, and of the
+fragrance from the stable across the street. Pete said it was healthful
+and satisfying. None disputed the latter quality. Pete's rooms--there
+were two of them--were quite as unique as his surroundings.
+
+Picture a bare, plank-ceiled loft, some forty feet long by twenty feet
+broad, divided in the exact center by a partition of half-inch matched
+boards and lighted by five windows. Imagine the walls and ceiling
+painted a pea-green, mentally hang two big oil-lamps--one in the middle
+of each room--from the latter, and spread half a dozen skins--bear,
+coyote, antelope, and cougar--over the discolored floor, and you
+have Pete's apartments. There was a door in the partition, but as it
+wouldn't close, owing to inequalities in the casing, it was always open.
+
+The furniture, of which there was very little, represented Centerport's
+best: there was a "golden-oak" bureau, a "Flemish-oak" easy chair, a
+"Chippendale" card-table--I am employing the dealer's language--an
+iron bedstead, a "mahogany" study table, a sprinkling of brightly
+upholstered, straight-backed chairs, and a few other pieces, equally
+highly polished and equally disturbing to the esthetic eye.
+
+The walls were almost, but not quite, bare. Pete didn't care for
+pictures, but on nails driven at haphazard hung a silver-mounted
+bridle, a rawhide lariat, a villainous-looking pair of Mexican
+wheel-spurs, a leather-banded sombrero, a cartridge-belt and holster,
+the latter holding a revolver, a leather quirt, and an Indian war-drum,
+while over the bedstead in the back room the head of a grizzly bear
+perpetually resented intrusion with snarling lips. The head of a
+mountain-sheep held a place of honor in the other apartment, and
+underneath it hung a Navajo Indian blanket, almost worth its weight in
+gold.
+
+There were only two objects that might have been set down in an
+inventory as pictures: one was an advertising calendar and the other a
+photograph of Pete's mother, who had died soon after Pete's advent in
+the world. The photograph shared the top of the dazzling yellow bureau
+with Pete's brushes and shaving utensils.
+
+In a corner of the front room was a trunk, covered with a yellow and
+red saddle-blanket. Against it leaned two guns--a battered Winchester
+carbine and a handsome two-barreled 12-gauge shot-gun. In another
+corner, as though thrown there the moment before, lay a brown leather
+stock saddle, with big hooded stirrups. The card-table held Pete's
+smoking things--two corn-cob pipes, a small sack of granulated tobacco,
+and an ash-tray. The tobacco usually distributed itself over the table
+and the ashes always blew onto the floor.
+
+In bright weather, the sunlight streamed in through three of the five
+windows and crossed the rooms in golden shafts, wherein the dust
+atoms danced and swirled. With the sunlight came the sounds of the
+neighborhood--the clang of the blacksmith's sledge against the anvil,
+the screech of the carpenter's plane, the steady _tap_, _tap_, _tap_ of
+the harness-maker's hammer, the stamping of horses' hoofs, the clamor
+of passing trains, and the chatter of the loiterers below the windows.
+Pete called the front room the "corral," the rear room the "stable,"
+the whole the "Ranch."
+
+If I have risked tiring the reader with too long a description of
+Pete's dwelling-place, it is because, in spite of their strange
+furnishings and hideous green walls, the rooms were far more homelike
+than many a smart suite in Grace Hall, and, to quote Tommy again,
+were "Pete through and through." Further, while Allan's, Hal's, and
+Tommy's rooms sometimes served as meeting-places for the four, the
+chambers over the harness-shop were their favorite resort. There was
+an undeniable charm about them; and if you could prevail upon Pete to
+close a few of the windows in cold weather, and if you didn't mind
+sitting upon the tables and the trunk, you could be very comfy at the
+Ranch.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+PETE'S CLUB TABLE
+
+
+On the Monday night succeeding the Robinson game the quartet was
+assembled in Pete's study. Allan had the easy chair, Hal and Tommy
+shared the big table, and Pete sat on the trunk. The windows were
+closed, for the night was cold, and the big hanging lamp diffused
+light, warmth, and a strong odor of kerosene through the apartment.
+This odor Pete was heroically striving to mitigate with the fumes of
+a cob pipe. Hal had tried the other pipe, but had soon given it up,
+avowing discontentedly that Pete ought to keep some real tobacco on
+hand for guests who weren't used to chopped hay. The bell in College
+Hall had just struck nine, and Tommy, for the fourth time, had slid
+from the table, pleading press of business, and had been pulled back by
+Hal.
+
+"Forget your old business, Tommy," said Hal.
+
+"Don't let him sneak," said Pete. "We're going to open a can of corn in
+a minute."
+
+"That's all very well," Tommy protested, "but I've got things to do.
+You lazy chaps, who never study----"
+
+Dismal groans from the opposition.
+
+"Can afford to loaf; but I want to tell you----"
+
+"Of course you do, Tommy," Allan interrupted, soothingly, "but we don't
+want you to. Be calm, precious youth; the Purp" (college slang for the
+Purple) "will come out just the same, whether you continue to adorn
+that desk for another ten minutes or not."
+
+"Why don't you fellows let a couple of weeks go by without putting out
+a paper?" asked Pete. "No one would notice it, and think what a high
+old time you could all have being useful for once."
+
+"Wish we could," sighed Tommy.
+
+"Tommy, you're a wicked liar!" said Hal. "You don't wish anything
+of the sort. If you missed an issue of that old sheet, you'd commit
+suicide in some awful manner; maybe you'd come down here and die of
+smells."
+
+"If you'd only put something in it," said Pete, "something a fellow
+could read and enjoy--a murder now and then, or a lynching. Couldn't
+you run a story with lots of blood? It's such a dismal paper, Tommy."
+
+"You fellows might jump into the river," suggested Tommy, scathingly.
+"We'd print your obits."
+
+"Our which?" Hal asked.
+
+"Obits--obituaries," he explained in a superior manner.
+
+"Would you put 'em on the fir?" asked Peter.
+
+"On the fir? What's the fir?"
+
+"Fir--first page." Pete mimicked Tommy's tone.
+
+"No," said Tommy, when the laughter had stopped, "not important enough."
+
+"Crushed and lifeless!" murmured Allan.
+
+"Tommy," asked Pete, severely, "do you mean that I'm not enough of a
+heavy-weight to be dishonored by having my name on the front page of
+that old up-country weekly of yours?"
+
+"The front page is for important news," said Tommy, with a wicked smile.
+
+"Such as measles in the grammar school and the election of Greaves as
+president of the Chess Club," explained Hal.
+
+"Now, I'll tell you what I'll do with you, Thomas," said Pete. "I'll
+bet you anything from an old hat to a quarter section of land that I
+can get my name and a half a column of talkee-talkee on the first page
+of the Erskine Purple any time I want to. Now, what say, Thomas?"
+
+"I'll bet you can't," laughed the other.
+
+"What'll you bet? Money talks, my son."
+
+"Oh, most anything. If you want your name on the front page of the
+Purple, you'll have to do some tall stunts."
+
+"Of course, that's what I mean: kill the Dean, or blow up College Hall,
+or have a fit in chapel."
+
+"Or subscribe for the paper," added Allan.
+
+"Come, Tommy, speak up. What will you bet?"
+
+"Oh, get out, you wild Indian! I'm going home."
+
+He made another effort to tear himself away.
+
+"Tommy, you're a coyote: you're skeered an' afeared. You know I'd win."
+
+"Oh, no, I'm not," said Tommy. "I'll bet a dinner for the four of us at
+the Elm Tree that you can't get your name on the front page while I'm
+on the paper-- Hold on, though; I won't bet that. I'll bet you won't
+get it there this year unless it's merely the name, as a member of a
+society, or as having attended a meeting, or something like that, you
+know."
+
+"Thomas, you're hedging," said Pete, "but I'll take your bet. And just
+my name isn't to count; nothing less than a full paragraph to myself
+goes. You fellows are witnesses."
+
+"We are," said Allan. "I smell that dinner already."
+
+"And you see Pete paying the bill," said Tommy.
+
+"I don't know who pays, and I don't care."
+
+"He cares not who pays for his dinner, so long as he may eat it," said
+Hal. "Wise child, Allan. And, by the way, talking of eating reminds me.
+You know Billy Greb, Allan?"
+
+"I'm going home," said Tommy.
+
+"(Shut up and sit down, Tommy!) Billy's getting up a freshman club
+table and wants you and me to join. What do you say?"
+
+"Where's it going to be?"
+
+"Pearson's."
+
+"How much?"
+
+"Six a week."
+
+"That's pretty steep, Hal. Besides, I may go to the track-team table in
+the spring."
+
+"I'm going home, you fellows," announced Tommy again.
+
+"Will you please shut up?" asked Hal. "Well, you'd better join until
+then, Allan; sufficient to the spring is the evil thereof."
+
+"Well, I'll think it over and let you know in a day or two. When does
+Greb want to start it?"
+
+"First of the month. If you weren't a foolish little sophomore, Tommy,
+you could come in too."
+
+"Huh!" answered Tommy, scathingly. "I've seen all I want of freshman
+club tables. I'm going----"
+
+"How about me, Hal?" asked Pete. "I'd like to join, if your friend will
+have me."
+
+Hal hesitated for an instant.
+
+"Why--er--I'll speak to him about it. But I think he's got his number
+made up."
+
+"That's all right," answered Pete, quietly.
+
+"But I'll do my best," said Hal, hurriedly and awkwardly. "Maybe----"
+
+"Call it off!" said Pete, with a cavernous yawn.
+
+"If it was my table--" continued Hal, anxious not to hurt the other's
+feelings.
+
+"I know. _That's_ all right. I can stand it."
+
+There was the sound of a gently closing door.
+
+"Hello!" Pete exclaimed. "Where's Tommy?"
+
+The three glanced in surprise around the room. Then--
+
+"I think," said Allan, dryly, "I _think_ I heard him say something
+about going home."
+
+The next afternoon Pete found Allan at the gymnasium, and walked back
+to Mrs. Purdy's with him. He was so quiet that Allan was certain he had
+something on his mind. What that something was transpired when they had
+reached Allan's room.
+
+"What sort of a cayuse--meaning gentleman--is this fellow Greb?" asked
+Pete.
+
+"I don't know him very well," Allan replied, "but I fancy he thinks
+himself a bit of a swell. He's a Dunlap Hall fellow, and of course you
+know what that means."
+
+"Never heard tell of it," said Pete. "What is it--a preparatory school?"
+
+"Yes, it's-- Oh, it's all right, of course, only we used to make a good
+deal of fun of it at Hillton. You go there when you're nine or ten,
+and they give you a sort of a governess to look after you until you
+get old enough to make her life a burden; then they put you in another
+house. They're terribly English, you know; have forms and fagging; and
+when you want a row with a chap, you have to notify the captain of your
+form, and it's all arranged for you like a regular duel, and you go
+out back of one of the buildings, and somebody holds your coat for you
+and somebody else mops your face with a sponge, and you try and hit
+the other fellow in the eye. It's like a second edition of Tom Brown.
+Think of getting mad with a chap in the morning and having to wait
+until afternoon to whack him! There's no fun in that. You'd like as not
+want to beg his pardon and buy him a 'Sunday'! But they think they're a
+pretty elegant lot, just the same."
+
+"Think of that!" sighed Pete. "And I might have gone there, if I'd
+known, and had a nurse and all the scrapping I wanted. So this fellow
+Greb thinks he's the whole thing, does he? Guess that's the reason Hal
+was hunting a hole when I asked myself to join. I didn't know you were
+so mighty choice about who you ate with. Out there we ask whoever comes
+along. I guess you fellows thought I was loco, didn't you?"
+
+"Thought you were what?"
+
+"Why, crazy, inviting myself like that."
+
+"Nonsense, Pete; we all understood. There was no harm done. It's just
+that Greb wants to get up a table of fellows he knows."
+
+"Does he know you?"
+
+"Why--er--I've met him, of course."
+
+"And he could have met me if he'd wanted to, couldn't he?"
+
+"I suppose he could, but he doesn't know about you."
+
+"Wouldn't care to, I guess."
+
+"Oh, nonsense, Pete; you're making a lot out of nothing."
+
+"Dare say he thinks I eat in my shirt-sleeves and swallow my knife,"
+continued Pete, gloomily. "Maybe he thinks I live on horned toads and
+grasshoppers."
+
+"But, I tell you, he doesn't know you."
+
+"I guess he's heard of me," answered Pete. "Guess he knew you and Hal
+and I were traveling together."
+
+"Look here, Pete; if you want to join a club table----"
+
+"Oh, _that's_ all right. Moocha wano club table."
+
+"Oh, all right," answered Allan, a bit puzzled.
+
+"I'm going to join a club table on the 1st," said Pete.
+
+"Oh!" said Allan, again. "What--that is, whose is it?"
+
+"Pete Burley's."
+
+"What! How--how do you mean?"
+
+"Mean I'm going to run my own grub-wagon. And I want you to join."
+
+"But-- Look here, Pete, I don't believe you can find a decent place to
+take you. Everything's full up already."
+
+"Where is there a decent place?" asked Pete, calmly.
+
+"Well, there's Pearson's, of course, but you couldn't get in there.
+And----"
+
+"Why couldn't I?"
+
+"Because she takes training tables chiefly, and is pretty particular,
+anyhow."
+
+"Yes, that's what she told me," said Pete.
+
+"Then you went there?"
+
+Pete nodded.
+
+"I could have told you you wouldn't get in there. There's a pretty good
+place further along----"
+
+"Oh, _that's_ all right. We start on the 1st."
+
+"Start where?"
+
+"Mrs. Pearson's."
+
+"Pete, you're lying!" gasped Allan.
+
+"No, straight talk. I engaged the front corner room on the second
+floor. It's a right nice-looking place: paper on the walls, fireplace,
+lounge, window-seat----"
+
+"But--but how'd you do it?"
+
+"Oh, _that's_ all right. We had a little pow-wow. It's going to be six
+a week and no extras."
+
+"You crazy Westerner!" said Allan, in bewildered admiration. Then, "But
+you haven't got any one to join, have you?"
+
+"Not yet; but _that'll_ be all right. It's going to be select, you
+know; eight in all. There'll be you and me, that's two; and Hal----"
+
+"I don't believe he'll come," said Allan, doubtfully. "You see, Pete,
+he's promised Greb."
+
+"I don't guess Greb will have a table," said Pete.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Well, where's he going to put it?"
+
+Allan stared. Then----
+
+"Do you mean that you've got Greb's room?" he exclaimed.
+
+"'Twa'n't his," answered Pete, coolly. "He hadn't settled the matter,
+and so I said I'd take it and put down a forfeit. And there isn't
+another decent place for a high-toned, pedigreed chap like him to go
+to."
+
+"Pete Burley, you're a wonder!" breathed Allan.
+
+"Think Hal will join?" asked Pete, unmoved by the tribute. Allan nodded
+silently.
+
+"That'll make three, then. Now, of course, I know lots of fellows who
+would come in if I asked 'em, but, as I just said, this thing is going
+to be select; it's going to be the selectest table in town. So you tell
+me who are the top of the bunch in our class, and I'll go and fetch 'em
+in if I have to rope 'em and hog-tie 'em." Pete took out a pencil and
+began to write on the back of an envelope.
+
+"Of course, it's all poppycock," said Allan, "but--well, there's
+What's-his-name, the class president, and Maitland, and Poor----"
+
+"Whoo-ee! I'm glad you thought of Poor."
+
+"And Armstrong--only he lives at home, I think--and Mays, and Wolcott,
+and--and Cooper--Cooper of St. Eustace, I mean; the other chap's an
+awful duffer--and Van Sciver----"
+
+"Whoa, Bill! That's eight--eleven, counting us three; guess I can get
+enough out of the list. Besides, I must ask Greb; mustn't slight Greb."
+
+"You're not going to ask him?"
+
+"Ain't I? Just you keep your eyes peeled and you'll see." He got up and
+carefully put the list in the big yellow leather wallet he carried.
+"Guess I'll see a few of 'em this afternoon. Want to come along?"
+
+Allan shook his head vigorously.
+
+"Not me, Pete. I don't want to have to testify against you before the
+faculty. How do I know what you'll do to those chaps to make them join?"
+
+"Oh, say, Allan!" Pete turned at the gate. "Remember those ducks we saw
+on the river last week? Well, let's go after 'em Thursday morning, will
+you?"
+
+"Shooting, you mean? I haven't a gun."
+
+"You take my shot-gun and I'll use the rifle. I've shot ducks with a
+rifle before this."
+
+"All right, Pete, but like as not the silly ducks won't be there
+Thursday."
+
+"Well, we'll find something to shoot, all right, if it's just
+squirrels. We'll have nothing to do Thursday, and can stay as long as
+we like; make a day of it. Maybe we can find some place to have dinner
+and won't have to come back here. I'm getting mighty tired of commons,
+Allan. Well, it'll be considerable different when we get the table
+started, won't it?"
+
+"I suppose so," answered Allan.
+
+"Say, do you think Hal or Tommy would go along?"
+
+"Ducking? Tommy might, but Hal's going to sign off and go home over
+Saturday."
+
+"Lucky chap!" sighed Pete. "Wish I was." He looked thoughtfully across
+the leaf-strewn college yard. "Suppose I could, but--guess the old man
+would raise Cain. Allan!"
+
+"Yep?"
+
+"I'd give a hundred dollars for sight of a mountain. Well, I must jog
+along."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE DUCK HUNT
+
+
+Thanksgiving Day dawned cloudy and still, with a hint of snow in the
+air. Allan slept late, in enjoyment of holiday privileges, and Pete was
+banging at his front window before he had finished dressing.
+
+They reached Brown Hall a bare two minutes before the doors closed,
+and hurried through a light breakfast. Ten o'clock found them walking
+briskly along the Morrisville road, some four miles from college,
+having crossed the river by the county bridge and turned to the left
+through the little town of Kirkplain, which is opposite Centerport.
+Allan wore a white sweater, over which he had pulled an old coat; the
+pockets of the latter were bulging with shells. Pete wore a canvas
+hunting-coat and carried his cartridges in a belt. The Winchester
+was slung over his shoulder, and altogether he made a formidable
+appearance. Allan had the shot-gun. Tommy had refused to accompany
+them, pleading, as ever, a press of business; Hal had taken himself off
+to the bosom of his family.
+
+So far they had seen nothing to shoot at save a red squirrel. Allan had
+impulsively sought to bring that down, but had failed for the excellent
+reason that he had forgotten to load. The squirrel had seemed to
+appreciate the humor of the incident and had chattered in their faces
+from the bough of a dead maple-tree. Allan had been glad afterward that
+the gun hadn't gone off.
+
+The blunder reminded Pete of a parallel case in his own experience,
+and he had told it so well that Allan had been forced to sit on a
+rock in order to recover from his fit of laughter. This story led to
+others. Pete proved a perfect mine of interesting narratives on hunting
+adventure, some of them laughable, some of them so exciting that Allan
+forgot how heavy the shot-gun under his arm had become.
+
+When they struck the cross-roads, some three miles from Kirkplain, they
+were in the best of spirits. They took the road to the left, which
+leads down to the river and the ferry to Harwich. At the ferry they
+left beaten tracks and followed the river-bank.
+
+The travel was slower now, both because they had to break their way
+through underbrush, make detours around inlets, cross brooks, and climb
+an occasional fence, and because they were keeping their eyes open
+for game. Allan had never done much hunting, and he was becoming quite
+excited at the prospect.
+
+Pete led the way, forcing his big body through the bushes with scarce
+a sound, while Allan could make no progress without causing enough
+disturbance to frighten any self-respecting duck a mile distant. Pete
+seemed to realize this fact, for he frequently looked back at Allan
+with pursed lips and violent shakes of his head, and then glanced
+anxiously at the river. After a half mile of this, Pete stopped in a
+little clearing and leaned his rifle against a bush. Allan joined him,
+very much out of breath.
+
+"See anything?" he panted, hoarsely. Pete shook his head.
+
+A few yards away lay the river, sluggish and leaden under gray sky. At
+their backs the ground rose gently, and the reeds and bushes gave place
+to a thick growth of trees. A few rods further up-stream was a little
+promontory. Everything was very still save for the chirp of the birds
+in the woods and the infrequent screech of a locomotive-whistle from
+toward Centerport. Across the river and further down-stream the little
+hamlet of Harwich nestled under its leafless elms. Pete sat down and
+drew forth his corn-cob pipe.
+
+"Might as well take a rest," he said. "Smoke?"
+
+"No, thanks." Allan didn't possess a pipe of his own, and wouldn't
+have attempted Pete's for a ten-dollar bill; the very smell of it
+frequently made him faint. Pete stuffed the blackened bowl full of dry
+tobacco and lighted it. Then he leaned back on one elbow and puffed
+contentedly for a moment. Allan nibbled the end of a grass-blade and
+stared across the empty stream.
+
+"This is about the place where we saw those birds the other day," said
+Pete, finally. "Guess they've pulled their freight. Sorry!"
+
+"What's the diff?" asked Allan. "We've had the walk. Besides, maybe
+we'll find a gray squirrel if we go back through the woods."
+
+"Anyhow, I don't guess there's any use going farther up the river. What
+time is it, I wonder? Did you bring your watch?"
+
+"Quarter of twelve," said Allan. "Getting hungry?"
+
+"I could eat a saddle!" answered Pete. "Supposing we go back and take
+the ferry over to Harwich? Is there any place there we could get a
+feed?"
+
+"I don't know, but I should think there ought to be. Got any money?"
+
+Pete sat up suddenly and searched his pockets.
+
+"Not a red!" he exclaimed. "I forgot to change."
+
+"Same here," said Allan, dolefully. Pete picked his pipe up from where
+it had fallen and relighted it. Then he threw himself onto his back,
+put one leg over the other knee, and chuckled.
+
+"I don't think it's so terribly funny," said Allan, aggrievedly. "We
+can't get home until three or four o'clock. Wish we'd had sense enough
+to bring lunch with us."
+
+"Yes; a half dozen sandwiches and a piece of pie wouldn't go so bad,
+would they? Nice thick sandwiches, with ham or beef inside, and lots of
+butter and mustard. And--what kind of pie do you like best, Allan?"
+
+"Oh, shut up, you!"
+
+"I like pumpkin--or, maybe, apple. Yes, apple's pretty hard to beat.
+We'll have apple; about three pieces each."
+
+Allan groaned and threw a handful of dried grass into Pete's face. Pete
+brushed it aside and went on:
+
+"When we get the table going, we'll get Mother Pearson to give us
+apple-pie every night."
+
+"Yes, when you do!" growled Allan.
+
+"Oh, _that's_ all right, my son. Just because the only fellow I've
+found wouldn't join, you needn't think that table isn't going to be.
+Hal's going to introduce me to Maitland and Van Something----"
+
+"Van Sciver."
+
+"If you say so. And Cooper; and I'll bet you a bunch of cows I get that
+table filled up inside of a week. Want to bet?"
+
+"I don't bet," said Allan, aggravatingly. "Besides, if I were you, I'd
+go slow on betting until I'd paid for that dinner."
+
+"What dinner?"
+
+"The one you wagered with Tommy."
+
+"Ginger! I'd clean forgotten that. But _that'll_ be all right."
+
+"You'll lose."
+
+"Lose nothing! Just you hold your horses and keep your eye on your
+Uncle Pete. Let's think what we'll make Tommy order for us at that
+feed."
+
+"Let's go home and get something to eat," said Allan, irritably.
+
+"Home? Not a bit of it! We'll find a house and beg a Thanksgiving
+dinner, that's what we'll do. Saddle up and let's mosey along." He
+dropped his pipe into his pocket and got to his feet. "There's bound to
+be a house somewhere's about; look at how the woods have been cleared
+out here. Shouldn't wonder if we found eight courses and a Hinglish
+butler."
+
+"One course'll do me," groaned Allan, as he got up, "and I don't care
+how coarse it is."
+
+"We shot a man out in our county for making a joke like that, and he
+was a heap homelier than you-- _Listen!_"
+
+Allan listened. From beyond the little promontory came the unmistakable
+quack of a duck. Pete pumped a cartridge into the barrel of his carbine
+and tiptoed toward the shore. Allan seized his shot-gun, fell over a
+stone, and followed. Pete waved him back, and then returned.
+
+"They're around that point. We've got to go mighty quiet; if we don't,
+they'll fly. Keep low until you get to the pebbles there, and then get
+down and crawl. Come on!"
+
+Allan followed, watching each footstep and trying not to breathe. A
+clump of trees came down almost to the water at the point, and hid
+what was beyond. But when Allan had, by painfully wriggling his body,
+stomach to earth, reached the little expanse of pebbled shore and
+Pete's side, his heart leaped for joy. Before them was a little cove,
+and in it, peacefully moving about its surface, was a flock of ducks.
+How many there were, he couldn't tell; there seemed dozens at first. He
+threw his gun to his shoulder and squinted along the barrel.
+
+"Hold on!" whispered Pete. "We'll have to scare 'em up somehow."
+
+"What for?" Allan whispered, anxiously.
+
+"You don't shoot ducks in the water, you idiot!" answered Pete. "Here,
+I'll raise 'em with this stone. Be ready and take 'em as they rise.
+Wait till you get two together, but shoot quick, and let 'em have both
+barrels."
+
+He dug a small stone out of the sand and aiming at the middle of the
+flock, let drive. There was a sensation among the ducks, but not the
+panic Pete had looked for. They swam away from the spot where the
+stone sank, and made a good deal of fuss, but not a duck took wing.
+Pete grunted and threw another rock. The result was the same. The
+ducks discussed the matter volubly among themselves and swam around in
+circles, but they didn't show any intention of flying away. Pete was
+disgusted.
+
+"I'm going to knock that old drake's head off," he whispered. "I guess
+that'll bring 'em up. All ready?"
+
+Allan nodded, clutching his gun desperately and still squinting along
+the barrels. There was a loud report, then another, and a third. Two
+ducks floated quietly on the water. The others, with wild quacks of
+dismay, paddled to shore and disappeared into the bushes.
+
+"Well, of all crazy ducks!" ejaculated Pete, staring after them.
+
+"They--they didn't fly!" said Allan, breathlessly.
+
+"Fly! Why, the things are clean locoed! They're not ducks,
+they're--they're--_I_ don't know what they are!"
+
+Pete stared about him in bewilderment.
+
+"They didn't fly, and so I shot," Allan explained.
+
+"And we only got two!" said Pete, disgustedly.
+
+"But they went up there," said Allan. "Why can't we go after them?"
+
+"And shoot 'em on land?" Pete shook his head slowly. "Allan, I've done
+fool things in my time, but I never shot ducks on land."
+
+"I don't see what difference it makes," objected Allan.
+
+"Maybe not; maybe you're used to crazy ducks. I'm not. I refuse to have
+further dealings with such--such freaks of nature. How we going to get
+those?" he asked, nodding at the dead birds.
+
+"We ought to have brought a dog."
+
+"Or a rowboat. Well, here goes!" He sat down and took off his shoes and
+stockings. Then, with his trousers rolled up as far as they would go,
+he waded out into the water. Allan sat down on the bank and promised to
+rescue him if he went over his depth. Pete reached the first bird--it
+was the drake he had shot, and it lacked a head--and held it up. He
+studied it a moment, shaking his head slowly.
+
+"What's the matter?" called Allan.
+
+"Oh, nothing; nothing at all. Only I never saw a duck like this before
+in my life!"
+
+"Why, what's the matter with--" began Allan. Then the words stopped and
+he jumped to his feet.
+
+"Sorry you don't approve of them," said a voice behind him, "but
+they're the best I've got!"
+
+[Illustration: "Sorry you don't approve of them."]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+DINNER FOR TWO
+
+
+The regret, politely expressed though it was, had the effect of a
+thunderbolt on both Allan and Pete, neither of whom had heard or seen
+anything to suggest the presence of a third person on the scene.
+Allan's surprise was ludicrous enough, but the picture presented by
+Pete--mouth and eyes wide open and the headless duck held stiffly at
+arm's length, his whole attitude suggesting that the icy water in which
+he stood had suddenly frozen him stiff--caused even the newcomer to
+smile a little under his mustache.
+
+The latter was a rather stout gentleman, of middle age, with
+ruddy cheeks, piercing dark eyes, and an expression of extreme
+self-possession. He wore a suit of rough gray tweed and leather
+leggings and carried a shot-gun. At his side, exhibiting two rows of
+very white teeth, stood a red and white setter. Allan liked neither
+the gun nor the dog, and envied Pete his chilly, but more distant,
+position. The newcomer glanced silently from Allan to Pete. It was the
+latter who found his voice first.
+
+"Those your ducks?" he asked.
+
+The man nodded. Pete looked again at the drake in his hand.
+
+"Oh!" he said.
+
+The dog growled and Allan observed that the man's gun was cocked and
+that it was held in a position that was far from reassuring. Pete
+regarded the man with a puzzled expression.
+
+"Look here, partner," he asked, "are those _tame_ ducks?"
+
+"They are, sir."
+
+Pete's face cleared; a grin overspread his features, and he chuckled
+aloud as he waded back to shore.
+
+"You seem amused?" said the man, politely but with a note of
+interrogation.
+
+"Well, I'm mighty relieved, as the broncho said when he bucked the man
+off. You see, I thought they were wild ducks, and when they wouldn't
+fly, I was afraid they were degenerating. Of course, as they were tame
+ducks, it's all right." Pete waded out of the water and the setter laid
+back his ears and growled suspiciously. "Hello, dog!" said Pete, as he
+went toward where he had deposited his shoes, stockings, and rifle.
+
+"Just stay where you are, please!" said the man. He waved toward Pete's
+possessions. The dog trotted over to them and stood guard, watching
+their owner intently. Pete's grin broadened. He tossed down the duck he
+had rescued.
+
+"There's another out there," he said. "Guess the dog could get it,
+couldn't he?"
+
+"Where do you gentlemen belong?" asked the man. The gentlemen exchanged
+glances. Then--
+
+"Centerport," answered Allan.
+
+"Students?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Humph!" said the owner of the ducks. "Want me to believe you thought
+my ducks were wild ones, do you?"
+
+"You don't suppose we'd walk six miles to shoot tame ones, do you?"
+asked Pete, scathingly. The man shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I suppose you're ready to pay for the pair you've shot?"
+
+"Glad to," answered Pete. "How much?"
+
+"Well, I guess a dollar will do. They were both Pekins."
+
+"Can't say I've had a dollar's worth of sport," said Pete, "but here's
+your money." He put a hand into his trouser pocket. Then he stopped
+short and looked with dismay at Allan. The owner of the ducks waited
+silently.
+
+"Guess you'll have to trust us, partner," said Pete. "We both came
+away without any money." Allan, fearing arrest would follow this
+announcement, held his breath. But the man only smiled courteously.
+
+"Very well," he answered. "There is no hurry."
+
+"Thanks!" said Pete. He looked inquiringly toward the dog. "How about
+my shoes and stockings? It's a bit chilly."
+
+"I fancy your walk back will warm you up," said the man. Pete whistled.
+
+"Going to keep 'em for security, eh?" he asked. The other nodded
+gravely.
+
+"Couldn't compromise, I suppose?" Pete insinuated. "That carbine's
+worth a good bit more'n a dollar. It's hard walking without any shoes."
+
+"I dare say," was the reply. "But maybe if you stub your toe a few
+times, it'll remind you to find out whether a duck is domestic or wild
+before you shoot it."
+
+"Look here, Mr. Whatever-your-name-is," said Allan, explosively,
+"you'll get your old dollar. We're not thieves. But you've got to let
+him have his shoes and stockings."
+
+"If I don't?" asked the man, with a flicker of appreciation in his
+eyes.
+
+"Why--we'll just take them, that's all."
+
+"I wonder if you could do it?" said the other, measuring the two with
+his eyes. "I almost believe you could."
+
+"Well, then--" began Allan.
+
+"But of course you'd get damaged in the process," continued the other,
+cheerfully. "Now, look here; you've killed my ducks, and it's only
+right that you should pay for them. Isn't that so?"
+
+"Yes; but if we have no money----"
+
+"That's it," was the answer. "It doesn't seem probable that you two
+students would come six miles from college without any money. Where are
+you going to get your dinner?"
+
+"There isn't going to be any dinner," said Pete. "You can believe us or
+not, just as you like, and be hanged to you! If you'll put down your
+gun, I'll lick you."
+
+"That's an honest offer," said the man, smiling outright for the first
+time, "but it isn't just practical. I rather think you could do it, and
+I don't see why I should be licked merely because you have killed my
+ducks. Do you?"
+
+"I guess that's so, partner," Pete answered. "But something's got to be
+done. I can't walk home without any shoes."
+
+The man received this assertion in silence, glancing thoughtfully from
+Pete to the articles in discussion. The dog looked suspiciously from
+Pete to Allan. Allan scowled at the dog's master. The latter spoke:
+
+"Here, Jack!"
+
+Jack went to him unwillingly. Pete picked up his shoes and stockings.
+
+"Thanks!" he said. Then he put them on. The man watched him smilingly.
+When the last lace was tied, Pete got up.
+
+"My name's Burley," he said. "I'll come over with your money to-morrow
+or next day. Come on, Allan. Good day, sir."
+
+"You're forgetting your rifle," said the man. Pete looked puzzled.
+Then--
+
+"Do I get that, too?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, you might as well take that along, I guess." Pete went back and
+got it. "Where you going now?" asked the man.
+
+"Home," said Pete.
+
+"But how about dinner?"
+
+"Well, maybe we'll beg something to eat on the way. I guess there
+ain't any place around here where they'd take a Winchester carbine
+as security for a Thanksgiving dinner, is there?" asked Pete, with a
+smile. The stranger answered the smile.
+
+"Hardly. But I tell you what you do. Strike straight up through the
+woods here over the hill till you come to a lane. Keep along that for
+a quarter of a mile until you come to a big brown house standing back
+from the lane. You go there and tell 'em you're hungry, and you'll get
+plenty to eat. Ask for Mr. Guild. Don't forget, now; first house you
+come to. There isn't another for a mile further, so you'd better follow
+my advice."
+
+"Thanks!" said Pete. Allan echoed him.
+
+"All right," said the man, smiling kindly. "Good morning, gentlemen."
+
+"Good morning," they answered. They started off through the woods in
+the direction he had indicated, but after a few yards Allan turned and
+looked back. The man, with the setter at heel, was moving along a path
+at right angles to them. He glanced up and waved his hand.
+
+"We're sorry about the ducks," called Allan.
+
+"That's so," Pete shouted.
+
+The man nodded good-naturedly. Then the trees hid him.
+
+Allan and Pete walked on in silence for a ways. Then--
+
+"Say, he wasn't such a bad sort, was he?" asked Allan.
+
+"No, he's all right. I don't believe he was going to do any more than
+scare us, anyway. Guess he was just having some fun with us."
+
+"Wasn't it funny about the ducks being tame ones?" asked Allan,
+presently, as they left the woods, climbed over a stone wall, and
+struck off up a lane.
+
+"That's a joke on me," said Pete, laughing. "Ginger! How was I to know
+that folks left their old ducks floating around loose all over the
+country here? Out our way, when you see a duck in a lake or on the
+river, it's a wild duck, and you just naturally go ahead and shoot it.
+That's what bothered me--those fool ducks sitting there and letting
+me throw rocks at 'em. Next time-- Say, I guess that's our ranch over
+there."
+
+Allan's gaze followed the other's.
+
+A turn in the lane laid bare a broad expanse of lawn, interspersed with
+ornamental trees and shrubbery, beyond which stood a long, rambling
+house of brown-shingled walls and numerous red chimneys. Farther off
+were stables and barns. From the chimneys the smoke arose straight into
+the still air, suggesting warmth and good cheer. The boys paused and
+looked longingly across the lawn.
+
+"Shall we try it?" asked Allan.
+
+"Sure!" Pete said. "I'm so hungry I could eat cedar bark."
+
+"But what will they think?" Allan demurred. "It isn't as though it were
+a farmhouse, you know."
+
+"_That's_ all right; the sweller the folks the better the rations. Come
+on; let's cut across here."
+
+"We'll just ask for some bread and a glass of milk," suggested Allan.
+
+"Bread and milk? Ginger! I've got to have pie and hot coffee!"
+
+"But we'll go to the back door, won't we?"
+
+"Like tramps? Not a bit of it. We'll go to the front. What was the name
+he told us?"
+
+"Guild."
+
+"That's right; Guild. Hello! look there; there's another one of those
+setter dogs. Looks just like the beast the fellow back there had,
+doesn't it?"
+
+But this dog only observed them indifferently from a respectful
+distance, and then trotted around the corner of the house as they
+mounted the broad steps, crossed a wide veranda, and pushed the ivory
+button beside the big oaken door. Allan strove to appear at ease, but
+in reality looked as though he had come to steal the family silver. A
+neatly-aproned maid opened the door.
+
+"Is Mr. Guild in?" asked Pete, with unruffled composure.
+
+"Yes, sir. Will you please walk in?" They followed her into a library,
+in which a wood fire was crackling merrily in the chimney-place. Allan
+felt like an impostor. Pete calmly selected the easiest chair and
+lowered himself into it with a deep sigh of contentment.
+
+"This is something like!" he said. "I'll bet we'll get two or three
+kinds of pie, Allan."
+
+But Allan, sitting uncomfortably on the edge of a straight-backed
+chair, only smiled distressedly and listened to the footsteps coming
+nearer and nearer down the uncarpeted hall. The footsteps reached the
+door; Pete and Allan got to their feet as the door swung open.
+
+"Mr. Guild--" began Pete. Then he stopped short.
+
+Before them was the owner of the ducks!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE CAPSIZED BOAT
+
+
+Allan and Pete didn't forget that day for a long time. In retrospect,
+it was the brightest one between the beginning of the college year and
+the Christmas recess. For long afterward Pete would point with pride to
+his performance at table on that day, and declare that he believed that
+should he live to be a hundred he could never eat as much again. Dinner
+began at two o'clock and ended, not because of lack of further viands
+but because of inability on the part of the guests, at half-past four.
+
+The family at Hillcrest consisted of Mr. Guild, his wife, a
+pleasant-faced and sweet-voiced woman several years his junior, and a
+three-year-old son and heir, who did not make his appearance at table
+but who was afterward ceremoniously introduced in the nursery. Both
+host and hostess appeared to have no other desire in life than to make
+the two guests happy and utterly ruin their digestions.
+
+Even Pete had had momentary qualms over appearing at table in the
+unconventional attire of shooting-coat and flannel shirt, but their
+objections had been politely overruled, and by the time the turkey had
+made its appearance they had both lost sight of the fact that they
+were not dressed in the mode. It was while carving the turkey that the
+morning's episode was recalled.
+
+"This, Mr. Burley," said their host, "is only turkey. Had there been
+more time, we would have had a duck prepared for you."
+
+Allan wondered, while he laughed, whether Mrs. Guild had heard the
+story of the duck-hunt. The demure expression about her mouth led him
+to suspect that she had.
+
+After dinner they adjourned to the library again, and Pete was induced
+to smoke a cigar, although, as Allan guessed, he would much rather
+have used his corn-cob pipe. Mrs. Guild disappeared for a while, and
+Pete and Allan stretched themselves luxuriously in front of the fire
+and listened to their host and did a good deal of talking themselves.
+Mr. Guild led them to tell of their college life, and displayed such
+sympathy with their views and ambitions that at the end of an hour the
+two boys had become his enthusiastic admirers. He knew the West like a
+book, and Pete became quite excited--for Pete--swapping recollections
+and stories of "out there."
+
+After a while Mrs. Guild appeared again, and they went into the
+drawing-room and sat silent and happy in the firelight while she
+played for them. She apologized for knowing no college songs, but Pete
+gallantly assured her that he preferred "straight music." Still later
+there was a four-handed game of billiards in an upper hall, in which
+Mrs. Guild and Allan were badly defeated by the host and Pete. Then
+came the visit to the pink-hung nursery and the formal introductions
+to Master Thomas Guild, Junior. And by that time it was after eight
+o'clock, and a surrey stood at the door, waiting to bear them back to
+Centerport.
+
+"You must come out some afternoon," said their host, "and let me show
+you around. Both Mrs. Guild and I have enjoyed your visit, and we want
+you again. We don't have so many callers but what a couple more will be
+welcome at any time. And when you come, it must be to stay to dinner
+with us."
+
+And Allan and Pete readily agreed, and kept to their agreement. They
+each voted Mr. Guild a fine fellow, and each lost his heart to the
+hostess. The dollar was duly paid, and they received a receipt "in full
+for two ducks. Trusting to receive a continuance of your patronage, I
+remain, Yours faithfully, Thomas A. Guild." There was another visit to
+Hillcrest the following week, and several more before the occurrence
+of the incident which, for a time at least, put thoughts of visiting
+out of mind.
+
+On the Monday after Thanksgiving and the duck-hunt, the story of which
+was now college property, Pete stamped into Allan's room just before
+dinner, kicked the snow from his shoes against the chimney, tossed his
+sombrero onto the desk, and subsided into the armchair with a mighty
+sigh of triumph.
+
+"_That's_ all right," he announced, heartily but vaguely.
+
+"What?" asked Allan, momentarily abandoning his struggle with Herodotus.
+
+"Club table. I've got my eighth man."
+
+"Not really? Who have you got?"
+
+"Well, there's"--he took a list from his pocket--"there's you, and Hal,
+and Wolcott, Poor----"
+
+"Pete, you're lying!"
+
+"--and Cooper, Van Sciver, Maitland, and your Uncle Pete."
+
+"But--but how'd you do it, Pete? How'd you get them to join? Offer to
+pay half their board, or--or what?"
+
+"Oh, it just took a little dip-lo-macy, my son; just a little
+dip-lo-macy. I started out with you and Hal. I got Hal to introduce
+Poor. Then I told Poor I was getting up a representative table, and
+got him to promise to join if I secured Maitland and Van Sciver. He
+introduced me to Van Sciver. I told him that you and Hal and Poor had
+promised, and he came right over to the party. You were quite a card,
+my son. I had no trouble with Cooper when I told him you were one of
+our principal sights. And so it went. After I'd got Poor and Cooper
+and Van Sciver cinched, there was nothing left to do but receive and
+consider applications. I could have had twenty, but I set out to make
+this table exclusive, and exclusive it's going to be, if I have to get
+the Dean--hang him!" Pete frowned a moment in silence. Then, "Wolcott
+was the last to join; he agreed ten minutes ago; I just came from his
+room."
+
+"Pete, you surely are a lucky dub!" said Allan. "I don't believe
+there's another fellow in college that could have got all those chaps
+together!"
+
+"There wasn't much luck about it," said Pete, calmly. "It just took
+hard work. Why, I haven't studied a lick since Wednesday, and I've cut
+half my recitations. I guess that's why the Dean wants to see me."
+
+"Have you heard from him?"
+
+"Yes. I had a polite postal card from him yesterday, and an impolite
+one to-day."
+
+"But why----"
+
+"Well, I didn't have time to call on him yesterday; I was too busy
+seeing fellows. It seems to have made him some angry."
+
+Allan whistled expressively.
+
+"You ought to have gone, Pete. He'll raise thunder with you now; see if
+he don't."
+
+"Oh, _that's_ all right; he can't do any worse than expel me. And I'm
+getting pretty tired of this shop, anyway; there isn't much doing. And
+now that I've got the table made up, all the excitement's over with.
+I've thought all along I wouldn't be here much after Christmas."
+
+"Oh, shut up that! Who's going to run the table, if you go and get
+fired? And what do you suppose I'm going to do, you idiot?"
+
+"Oh, I guess you wouldn't care," said Pete, sheepishly. But he seemed
+rather pleased when Allan threw Fernald's Selections at his head.
+
+"Well, maybe he'll let me off easy this time; just suspend me, perhaps."
+
+"You'd better go and see him right away. But you can't until to-morrow,
+now."
+
+"Oh, yes; I guess I'll call at his house to-night."
+
+"He doesn't like you to, they say," cautioned Allan. "If I were you,
+I'd wait until morning."
+
+"No; better have it over with. I'll drop around afterward and tell you
+about it. Coming to dinner?"
+
+Allan pleaded study, and Pete took himself off.
+
+As it turned out, the Dean was merciful and Pete was merely placed upon
+probation--a fact which appeared to amuse him vastly.
+
+"It's just like old times," he explained to Allan and Hal, the latter
+having come in to recount the wonderful things which had happened to
+him during his visit home. "Out in Colorado, I was most always on
+probation. Used to feel downright lonesome when I wasn't."
+
+"That's all well enough," said Hal, "but you want to be careful, for
+old Levett's the very dickens if you get too gay with him. First thing
+you know, you won't know anything."
+
+"Don't now," answered Pete, promptly and cheerfully. "But I wouldn't be
+surprised if something did drop. The fact is--" he hesitated, sighed
+dolefully, and shook his head, "the fact is, I've been feeling lately
+that something unpleasant is going to happen to me. I guess it's a--a
+premonition."
+
+His tone was quite sad, and Allan and Hal stared at him in silent
+surprise. Then--
+
+"What's the matter with you, you idiot?" asked Allan.
+
+"Nothing; I dare say it's just foolishness, but somehow--" He sighed
+again. "Well, _that's_ all right," he went on, with an evident effort
+at cheerfulness. "Have a good time, Hal?"
+
+"You're off your feed, that's what's the matter with you," said Hal,
+severely. "Your liver's out of whack. Better see the doctor."
+
+"What's probation, anyway?" asked Allan, lightly. "It's likely to
+happen to any one."
+
+"It isn't that," Pete replied, dolefully. "But I don't want to talk of
+my troubles," he continued, with martyr-like complacency. "Tell us what
+you did, Hal."
+
+"Oh, you're plumb woozy!" exclaimed the latter. Nevertheless, he
+consented to tell again of the remarkable events which had transpired
+during his absence, and Pete's melancholy disappeared. It was a
+peculiar feature of it that during the following week it possessed him
+only occasionally. But when it did, he seemed in the uttermost depths
+of melancholy--a melancholy quite as mysterious and remarkable to his
+friends as the celerity with which he recovered on each occasion.
+Hal declared over and over that he was "woozy"--a term of doubtful
+significance, but quite satisfying to the user--and Tommy hinted at
+overstudy. This was among themselves. When Pete was present, they
+merely called him a fool, and let it go at that.
+
+It was the first day of December that witnessed the advent upon the
+scene of a new character in our story. A wagon stopped in front of
+Mrs. Purdy's in the afternoon and an expressman deposited a small
+box inside Allan's door. He found it there when he returned from
+his last recitation. It had slats nailed across the top, and from
+its dark recesses came strange sounds. Allan stared. The sounds
+resolved themselves into the plaintive mewings of a kitten, and Allan
+recollected his request to his mother--a request long since forgotten
+by him, but evidently well remembered by her. He tore off a couple of
+the slats and lifted out a six-weeks-old kitten.
+
+It was a pathetic little white object, with two black spots on its back
+and weak-looking pale blue eyes which blinked inquiringly at him. Its
+mouth opened, and the appealing cry was repeated. Allan set it down and
+raced for the kitchen. When he returned, he carried a huge bowl of milk.
+
+The kitten was roaming disconsolately about the floor, but at sight
+of the milk trotted up, and apparently strove to commit suicide by
+overeating--an intention frustrated by Allan, who removed the bowl
+finally and took the kitten into his lap in front of the fire. It
+seemed to have suddenly grown to twice its size, and instead of the
+heart-rending mews, Allan heard a faint but enthusiastic purring as
+the poor little object curled itself up in his arm and blinked its
+gratitude. Presently it went fast asleep and, rather than disturb it,
+Allan sat there for almost an hour, with his books just out of reach.
+
+That evening they named it. Tommy wanted something patriotic: Erskine,
+he thought, was just the thing. Hal showed the possession of an
+unsuspected streak of sentiment and clamored for Hortense. Allan,
+recollecting the fact that the mother's name was Edith Cinnamon, was
+in favor of calling the offspring Clove or Nutmeg. But Pete, who had
+been gravely examining the kitten at arm's length, took his pipe from
+between his lips, and with the stem tapped the two black spots on its
+back.
+
+"Two Spot," he said, with finality.
+
+Two Spot it was. And a few days later neither of the others would have
+changed the name for any consideration, since, as Tommy sadly expressed
+it, "Poor old Pete had named her."
+
+That first day of December was memorable not only for the arrival of
+Two Spot, but for the first gathering at Pete's club table. Of those
+beside our friends who composed the table, it is not necessary to speak
+at any length.
+
+Poor we already know very slightly. Wolcott, Cooper, Van Sciver, and
+Maitland were average fellows who had gained prestige for one reason or
+another, among their companions. It was a fact that Pete had succeeded
+in gathering together what might have been called the pick of the
+freshman class. That he had been able to do so was partly because of
+his tact and powers of persuasion and partly because freshman club
+tables were so seldom formed at Erskine that the project had the flavor
+of the unusual.
+
+Dinner was the first meal, and it was a very jolly one. There were one
+or two introductions to be made, and these Pete performed with his
+usual breeziness. After that the eight members sat down, Pete thumped
+the bell commandingly, and the table began its official existence--an
+existence which endured for four college years.
+
+By the time the roast beef and vegetables made their appearance the ice
+was very thoroughly broken. When the cabinet-pudding and fruit came on,
+good-fellowship reigned supreme, and long after the last plate had been
+pushed aside the members still sat about the table, as though loath to
+leave. It is doubtful if there was a single one of them who did not,
+mentally at least, thank Pete Burley for including him in his club
+table.
+
+One gusty winter afternoon, four days later, Pete appeared at Allan's
+room at about three o'clock. He wore his thickest sweater and a pair
+of woolen gloves.
+
+"I'm going up to see the Guilds. Want to come along?"
+
+"You know plaguey well I can't," said Allan, impatiently. "I've got
+all this stuff to do." He indicated the litter of books and papers
+hopelessly. Somehow, of late the Midyears had seemed perilously near.
+
+"Sorry. I'll tell 'em you said 'How.' I think I'll take a boat and row
+up."
+
+"You'll what?" gasped Allan. "Why, it's an easy three miles by the
+river."
+
+"_That's_ all right; I feel like a little exercise."
+
+"You're a chump if you do," answered the other, irritably. "How'll you
+get the boat back?"
+
+"I'll let it stay there, maybe. Maybe I'll come back in it after
+dinner. It's easy enough to get down-stream."
+
+"Not in the dark. You'll drown your fool self."
+
+"Oh, I guess not. Sorry you can't come along."
+
+"I'm not," muttered Allan, as the door closed. "Pete's a perfect idiot
+lately."
+
+After dinner the wind increased into a very respectable gale, and Allan
+fell to wondering whether Pete would be fool enough to attempt the trip
+back in the boat. At nine o'clock his uneasiness drove him forth. He
+fought his way down Main Street to Center, and so around to Pete's
+lodgings. Lights in the windows reassured him, and he had half a mind
+to go back to his studies, but after a moment's indecision he decided
+to go up for just a moment and tell Pete again what an idiot he had
+been. So he climbed the stairs and thrust open the door. At the table
+stood Tommy.
+
+"Oh!" he said, "I thought you were Pete."
+
+"Isn't he here?" asked Allan.
+
+"No; I don't know where he is."
+
+"I do," Allan replied. Tommy was plainly uneasy when he learned of
+Pete's trip. The two stayed until almost eleven. Then, as Pete had not
+returned, they went home together.
+
+"He's probably decided to stay there all night," said Allan, hopefully.
+"Like as not, they wouldn't let him come back."
+
+"I guess that's it," answered Tommy. "Pete wouldn't be such a fool,
+anyhow, as to try and come down the river on a night like this."
+
+But despite his words, Allan went to sleep feeling not a little
+worried, and awoke the next morning with a feeling of impending
+misfortune. Pete was not in the dining-hall, but it was after eleven
+o'clock before Allen had an opportunity to make inquiries. When he did,
+he could find no news of his friend. No one had seen him that morning.
+Allan cut a recitation and hurried down to Pete's rooms. The bed had
+not been occupied. Allan returned to the yard fighting against fear.
+
+At three he heard the news from Hal, who, white of face, was waiting
+him on the porch.
+
+"It's--it's all up with p-poor old Pete," he announced, with his mouth
+working tremulously. "They found the boat he had a mile down the river.
+It--it was capsized!"
+
+Allan felt his own face go pale, but after a moment he muttered:
+
+"Pete could swim like a fish; you know that."
+
+Hal shook his head.
+
+"Then why hasn't he showed up?" he asked, hopelessly. "No, he's a
+goner. You remember what he said about premonitions and things going to
+happen to him? I guess he was right, Allan. Poor old Pete! They--they
+found his hat, too, down by the wharves."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+TOMMY CORRECTS A REPORT
+
+
+Allan was almost the last of Pete's friends to give up hope; but when,
+by the next morning, Pete had neither returned nor had news of him been
+received, even Allan accepted the general belief. The janitor at the
+boat-house readily identified the overturned boat, while as for the
+hat, which had washed ashore at the foot of Main Street, even if Allan
+and Hal had been in doubt about it, there was still Pete's initials
+marked on the inside. Inquiry at Hillcrest had elicited the information
+that Pete had never reached there.
+
+The Guilds were deeply concerned, and Mr. Guild not only added a sum
+to that offered by the college for the recovery of the body, but
+himself took charge of a boat which all the next day dragged the river
+between his place and Centerport. The drowned body, however, was
+never recovered--a fact which surprised nobody, since the current is
+capricious, and the stream so broad as to preclude the possibility of
+searching every foot of its bed.
+
+The accepted theory was that Pete had encountered a sudden squall while
+crossing the river which had either swamped the boat or overturned it.
+Although Pete was known to have been a capable swimmer and a fellow of
+more than ordinary strength, yet the fact that he had failed to win the
+shore from midstream, weighted down as he had been with heavy clothing,
+was not considered strange.
+
+A telegram was at once despatched to Pete's father in Colorado, and,
+since that did not elicit a reply by the following forenoon, a second
+message was sent. The death was announced in the city papers with much
+detail, and Pete's athletic prowess was highly exaggerated. The Erskine
+Purple, which appeared the second day after the accident, contained a
+half-column notice of the sad affair, in which Pete's many estimable
+qualities were feelingly set forth. Tommy wrote the notice himself,
+and, as he felt every word he wrote, the article was a very touching
+tribute.
+
+The club table was a subdued and sorrowful place for several days.
+Pete's chair stood pathetically empty until, in desperation, Allan put
+it away. But as a head to the table was essential, an informal election
+was taken two days after Pete's disappearance, and Wolcott was elevated
+to the place of honor. A meeting of the freshman class was called and a
+committee was appointed to draw up resolutions of sorrow, to be sent
+to Pete's father and to be published in the Purple.
+
+When, after the second day of search, the tug-boat commissioned by the
+college to drag for the body abandoned its work, the first depression
+had passed and the college by degrees returned to its usual spirits.
+But Allan and Hal and Tommy were not so speedily resigned. Tommy, in
+especial, took the event hard.
+
+Perhaps it had been the utter dissimilarity of Pete's nature and his
+own which had drawn him to Pete. That as may be, Tommy was a very
+grave-faced little chap in those days.
+
+But Allan, if he showed less grief, was sadly depressed. He had not
+realized before how much he had grown to care in six weeks for the big,
+good-hearted Westerner. He felt terribly lonely, and besides he blamed
+himself for not having accompanied Pete; perhaps, he thought dolefully,
+had he gone along, the accident wouldn't have happened, and Pete would
+have been sitting there now across the table, puffing lazily at his
+evil-smelling corn-cob pipe. But instead of Pete there was only Tommy
+and Hal--and Two Spot.
+
+Two Spot, grown greatly in bulk since her advent, was snuggled against
+Tommy's arm. Outside it was blowing a gale and lashing the rain against
+the long windows. It was a most depressing afternoon, and the spirits
+of the three friends were at a low ebb. Tommy looked now and then as
+though a good cry would do him worlds of good. Hal scowled morosely and
+drummed irritatingly on the arm of the Morris chair until Allan, in
+desperation, begged him to "cut it out." It was at this juncture that
+Tommy let fall a remark that set Allan thinking hard.
+
+"Poor old Pete got what he was after, though, didn't he?" asked Tommy,
+breaking a silence of several minutes' duration.
+
+"What's that?" asked Allan.
+
+"Don't you remember the bet he and I made?" Tommy replied. "Well,
+he got his name on the first page of the Purple, after all. Wish he
+hadn't."
+
+"That's so," said Hal. "I'd forgotten about that bet. I guess you'll
+have to pay that wager to us, Tommy, and we'll drink to Pete's memory."
+
+Allan, his heart thumping wildly, looked at the other fellows' faces,
+but it was quite evident that the wild surmise which had come to him
+had not occurred to them. He pushed back his chair abruptly and went to
+the window.
+
+Was it possible? he asked himself. Surely, Pete would not have gone to
+such a length merely to win a bet! And yet--Pete was Pete; what another
+fellow would do was no criterion when it came to Pete's conduct.
+Allan's heart was racing and thumping now. The more he considered the
+affair in the light of Tommy's remark the more plausible seemed the
+startling theory which had assailed him. He turned to blurt out his
+suspicions to the others, then hesitated. If he should prove to be
+wrong, he would regret charging Pete with such madness. Perhaps he had
+better keep his own counsel for a while longer.
+
+To you, respected reader, who have all along known, or at least
+suspected, the truth of the matter, it probably seems strange
+that Allan should not have instantly realized the hoax. I have no
+explanation to offer in his behalf. He was still in doubt when Fate, in
+the not uncommon semblance of a postman, came to his relief.
+
+When he answered the landlady's tap on his door, he received a letter
+the mere sight of which set all his doubts at rest. The envelope
+was postmarked Hastings--Hastings is a small city eighteen miles
+down the river from Centerport--and the round, schoolboy writing was
+unmistakably Pete's.
+
+Tommy and Hal glanced around when the door opened, but paid no
+attention while Allan tore open the envelope and rushed through the two
+pages of writing inside. They only awoke to the fact that something had
+happened when Allan, waving the sheet above his head, gave vent to a
+blood-curdling yell of joy that sent Two Spot scuttling out of Tommy's
+arms and under the dresser.
+
+"What is it?" they cried in unison.
+
+Allan waved the letter again ecstatically.
+
+"It's a letter from him!"
+
+"Him? Who?"
+
+"_Pete!_"
+
+To attempt to describe the subsequent confusion would be absurd. Only
+a wide-awake phonograph could do it. Two chairs were overturned, Tommy
+screeched, Hal roared, Allan yelled back. The letter waved in air. Then
+Tommy danced an impromptu jig and, being quite unconscious that he was
+doing it, did it with much grace. Unfortunately none noticed it. Hal
+was struggling for the letter. Allan was fighting to keep possession
+of it. Tommy danced on. Occasionally he shrieked. His shriek was not
+nearly so pleasant as his dancing. After many moments comparative quiet
+settled and three breathless fellows gathered at the window while
+Allan, holding the precious document in his hands, read aloud. This is
+what they heard, leaving out, for the sake of clearness, the frequent
+interpolations of the listeners:
+
+    HASTINGS HOUSE, HASTINGS, _Dec. 7, 1903_.
+
+    DEAR ALLAN--I guess you weren't fooled, but anyhow it may be
+    best, in case you are getting worried, to write and let you
+    know that I am still alive and kicking like a steer. I would
+    have written before, but only got a copy of the Purp this
+    morning. It was fine. Tell Tommy he did nobly. I know it was
+    Tommy wrote it because of the poetry. I'm going to have that
+    front page framed for my descendants to look upon. They'll know
+    then what a noble youth I was.
+
+    I'm leaving here for New York to-night. The old man's there.
+    I'm not stuck on telling him about it, you can bet. He will
+    be rip-snorting mad. I had to drown myself when I did because
+    I got a letter saying he was going to be in New York a couple
+    of weeks, and I knew he wouldn't get any telegrams or things
+    announcing my sad death. I don't guess they'll let me come back
+    to college, and I don't care very much, except that I hate to
+    say good-by to you and Hal and Tommy. But I'll see you again
+    before I go home, unless they are easy on me, which doesn't
+    seem likely, does it?
+
+    You see, I rowed up to Harwich, turned the boat over and set
+    it adrift, and tossed my hat after it. I had another inside my
+    coat. Then I walked to Williamsport and took the train back to
+    this place. I've been here ever since. It's a dull hole. But I
+    had to wait for the Purple to make sure I hadn't slipped up.
+    I suppose there was a lot of trouble. I'm sorry if I worried
+    you fellows, but life was getting duller than ditch-water and
+    something had to be done. I wish you would go down to my room
+    and pack up the things that are lying around.
+
+    Tell Tommy I'll come back some day for that dinner, and that
+    it's got to be a good one. Maybe, if you have time, you'll
+    write and tell me how you all are. It seems like I hadn't seen
+    you for a month. Address me, Care Thomas A. Burley, Fifth
+    Avenue Hotel, New York. You fellows have got to come out to
+    Colorado this summer and visit me if they don't let me come
+    back to college. If you don't, I'll arise from my watery grave
+    and haunt you. Say "How" to Hal and Tommy, and don't forget
+    your poor old
+
+    UNCLE PETE.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The news astonished everybody save the Dean, who had already begun
+to smell a rat. Astonishment gave place to relief or joy, according
+to the hearer's degree of intimacy with Pete, and joy gave place to
+resentment. It is rather annoying to lavish regret over the taking-off
+of a friend only to discover that the friend has worked a deliberate
+hoax on you and is still alive to enjoy your confusion. That is why,
+had Pete put in an appearance at Erskine at that time, he would in all
+probability have been mobbed.
+
+But Pete didn't appear, and ultimately resentment gave place to
+amusement. The general attitude became one of laughing disapproval.
+After all, Pete was Pete, and even if he had harrowed their feelings
+considerably at the same time he had supplied interest at a dull season
+and had worked nobody any harm. This reasoning may have appealed to
+the faculty as well. At all events, their verdict, when announced, was
+thought to be amazingly merciful. Peter Burley '07 was suspended for
+the balance of the term. As there remained less than four weeks of the
+term, the penalty would be of short duration.
+
+Allan and Hal were delighted, and even Tommy, after the first day or
+two of rampant rage, grudgingly acknowledged that he was glad Pete
+was coming back. This was also after Tommy had written a denial for
+the Purple of that paper's announcement of Pete's death. That denial
+was very, very simple and brief. There was no mention made of Pete's
+many excellent qualities, nor did it express exuberant joy over
+his restoration. It merely stated that the announcement had proved
+erroneous and that Mr. Peter Burley was visiting relatives in New York
+city.
+
+When Allan or Hal mentioned that announcement, Tommy went purple in
+the face and fell to stuttering. Perhaps, as Allan pointed out, it was
+just as well he stuttered, since what he had to say was really unfit
+for polite ears. But Tommy's anger was too intense to last, and by the
+middle of the month he was able to smile wanly at Pete's deception. The
+awarding to him of a two-hundred-dollar scholarship helped, perhaps,
+to restore his good humor. Hal said the scholarship would come in very
+handy in paying for the dinner.
+
+Pete wrote that he had heard the faculty's verdict, and was glad they
+were going to let him come back. He was leaving New York for home as
+he wrote, to be gone until the opening of the winter term. By reading
+between the lines, Allan surmised that Pete's father had not been
+over-much pleased with his son's escapade; there were signs of a
+chastened spirit.
+
+The term wore itself to a close, and one sunshiny morning Allan and Hal
+and Tommy left Centerport for their respective homes, traveling the
+first part of the journey in company. Two Spot, apparently indifferent
+to the separation, was confided to Mrs. Purdy, and spent the Christmas
+holidays in the neighborhood of the kitchen range.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+PETE WRITES HOME
+
+
+"Of course," said Allan, "we're not terribly poor, but it's going to
+make a good deal of difference to us."
+
+The new term was three days old and Allan and Pete were sitting in
+front of the stove in Pete's study. The stove was a recent addition
+to the furnishings, and installed more in deference to his friends'
+demands than from any desire of his own. Pete didn't mind a little
+cold; just so long as he could find enough water under the ice in
+the pitcher to wash with, he was satisfied. But Allan and Hal and
+Tommy made disparaging remarks about his heating arrangements and
+ostentatiously kept their hats and coats on while visiting him, and so
+Pete bought a base-burner and a half ton of coal.
+
+"What mine is it?" asked Pete.
+
+"The Gold Beetle. Ever hear of it? It's out in your State."
+
+"Is it at Rico?" asked Pete.
+
+"Yes, that's the place. Didn't you say you were there last summer?"
+
+"Yes, and I know--something about the mine." Pete looked thoughtfully
+at the flames dancing behind the mica. "Fact is," he continued, "the
+old man is interested in it."
+
+"Really? Then don't you think it will be all right? He wouldn't have
+anything to do with a poor mine, would he?"
+
+"Well, the trouble is you can't always tell whether a mine's good or
+bad. The old man's got stock in all kinds; some of it's good, some of
+it isn't worth the paper it's printed on. I've got a lot of that kind
+myself. I used to think I was something of an investor. Now, this Gold
+Beetle; what's probably happened to that is that the pay ore has given
+out. It very often does. A mine'll run thousands to the ton for two or
+three years, sometimes twenty, and then all of a sudden the lode will
+just naturally peter out. I guess that's what's happened to the Beetle.
+I remember pretty well how it lies. There are paying properties all
+around it, and maybe if they went on or opened up new drifts they'd
+come across fresh lodes; or maybe they wouldn't; it's just a gamble. I
+dare say the stockholders aren't willing to put any money into it. How
+much stock do your folks hold?"
+
+"I don't know exactly. Pretty nearly half of it, I think."
+
+"Too bad! I'll ask the old man, when I write, what he thinks about it."
+
+"I wish you would. Maybe if he owns some of it we could--could kind of
+get together and--and do something," said Allan, vaguely but hopefully.
+
+"Maybe," answered Pete, thoughtfully. "Meanwhile----"
+
+"Meanwhile I've got to find some way of making a little money; enough
+to pay my board, at any rate. And that's why I ought to leave the
+table, Pete, and go back to commons, where I can feed for less."
+
+"But we can't let you do that. Now, look here; you don't eat very much.
+What's the sense in your paying as much as I do, who eat twice as much?
+That's plumb foolish! I ought to pay at least eight dollars and you
+oughtn't to pay a red cent over four; and that's the way it's going to
+be after this."
+
+"No, it isn't," Allan replied. "If I stay, I'll pay my share, and
+that's six dollars, Pete. I went over yesterday to see if I couldn't
+get a place in Brown Hall as a waiter, but there aren't any vacancies;
+they told me they had two applications for every place."
+
+"But you wouldn't like to wait on table, would you?"
+
+"It isn't a question of liking. I've heard tell of lots of ways of
+earning money in college, but none of them seem very practical for my
+case."
+
+"Well, look here; you figure out how much money you'll need for the
+rest of the year and let me know."
+
+Allan looked puzzled.
+
+"What good would that do?"
+
+"I'll lend it to you. Now, shut up! I haven't offered to give it to
+you, have I, you chump? You can pay me back any time you like; there
+isn't a bit of a hurry. And I've got a whole lot of money in bank from
+last term. Somehow, it's mighty hard to get rid of money up here. You
+needn't say anything to any one about it; it'll just be between you and
+me. That's all right, ain't it?"
+
+"No, it isn't all right, Pete, but it's awfully good of you, and I
+won't forget it in a hurry."
+
+And although Pete threatened and coaxed and called names, he was at
+last forced to abandon the proposition. And in the end it was Tommy
+who, learning of Allan's quandary, made the suggestion which led to a
+measure of success.
+
+"I knew a fellow at school who used to go around to the fellows' rooms
+at night and sell sandwiches and wienerwursts and made good money,"
+said Tommy. "Wouldn't care for that, though, I guess?"
+
+Allan acknowledged that he wouldn't.
+
+"Then there was a fellow I heard of who was agent for a sporting-goods
+firm and sold on commission. He worked up quite a trade, but it took
+him a good while to do it. Then there was a fellow had a rental
+business: rented rooms and got a commission from the landladies; but he
+did most of his business in the fall. Then--" Tommy paused, struck by a
+brilliant thought. "You might try for a place on the Purple," he cried.
+"They elect new men in March. If you got a place, you'd make fair money
+from March on to the end of the year. That's what I did last year, and
+I made enough to pay my board."
+
+"But I don't know anything about reporting, Tommy," Allan objected.
+"Besides, I'm not a hustler like you."
+
+Tommy looked disappointed. He thought for a minute in silence. Then--
+
+"I tell you, Allan," he said, "I'll see Stearns. He's track-team
+captain, you know. I'll tell him that if you don't find something to
+do, you won't be able to stay here. And he won't want to lose you,
+you can bet, because he's set his heart on winning from Robinson this
+spring."
+
+"But I don't know that that would be quite true," Allan objected.
+"Because, even if I don't find any work, maybe I'll be able to hang on
+here somehow to the end of the year."
+
+"Well, I won't lie to him," said Tommy, "but I'll fix him so he'll find
+something; you see if I don't."
+
+He lifted Two Spot off his lap and deposited her on the desk, where she
+subsided contentedly against a pile of books and purred on as though
+nothing had happened.
+
+"Happy little bunch of fur, isn't she?" asked Tommy. "If she's too
+great an expense to you, I'll take her off your hands."
+
+"Indeed, you'll not!" answered Allan. "While there's a loaf left in the
+house, she shall have the crust."
+
+"Scratch him, Kitty! Say, did Pete tell you he'd gone out for the
+freshman hockey team? Won't he be a sight on the ice?"
+
+"He says he can skate," answered Allan. "All I know is, I don't want to
+have the thingamabob--puck--when he's bearing down on me."
+
+"Are you going to play?"
+
+"No; I'd like to, but I guess I won't have time. Besides, I don't skate
+very well."
+
+"Skating isn't everything in hockey," said Tommy, wisely. "I can skate
+myself. I can make the ice look like a picture in a book or a map of
+China; but last year, when I went out for the freshman team, I was
+nearly slaughtered. Leroy butted me into the boards and somebody else
+cracked me over the shins with his stick and another chap tripped
+me up--accidentally, _of_ course--and I slid thirty-one feet or
+thereabouts on my head. The hair didn't grow back for a month. I quit.
+Life was too precious."
+
+"Wise youth!" commented Allan. "But we mustn't miss seeing Pete play.
+Let's go over to the rink to-morrow, if there is any ice."
+
+"All right. And I guess there'll be ice; it's cold enough now to freeze
+a door-knob. Going down to Pete's this evening? I'll see you there,
+then. So long. Good-by, Two Spot, my angel child!"
+
+Tommy's plan bore fruit. Allan had a visit from Walter Stearns next
+day, and two days later Allan was giving two hours out of each
+twenty-four to clerical work in the office of the Erskine College
+Athletic Association.
+
+The work, which consisted chiefly of answering letters from Professor
+Nast's dictation--Professor Nast was chairman of the Athletic
+Committee--was ridiculously easy, if somewhat uninteresting, and seemed
+out of all proportion to the remuneration, which was one dollar an
+hour. There were five working days in the week for Allan, and as a
+result he was earning ten dollars a week--twice as much as he had
+hoped for. And all the time he was disturbed by a haunting thought
+that, when all was said and done, he was not really earning the money.
+But it seemed absurd to find fault with his good fortune so long as his
+employers were satisfied, and so he offered no objections. Afterwards
+he marveled at his blindness.
+
+About this time Pete wrote one of his semi-occasional letters to his
+father. He wasn't much of a letter-writer, and the epistle as a whole
+would not interest us, but a portion of it merits attention.
+
+"I remember (he wrote) that you said in New York you'd been down town
+to a meeting of the Gold Beetle stockholders, and that they had voted
+to stop work on the mine. I didn't know then that Allan's folks were
+interested in it. I guess they haven't dismantled yet, and so it isn't
+too late to change your mind. I guess you have enough stock in it
+to control it; if you haven't, the Wares' shares will give you the
+whip-hand. I want you to have them go ahead with the Gold Beetle and
+fuss round some. A couple of months' work won't break anybody. You can
+charge your share of it up to me. There must be pay ore somewhere on
+the property. Look at all the gold that's coming out all around it.
+Allan's folks need the money. It's about all the income they have. If
+that stops, his sister will have to give up her college, and so will
+Allan. Allan's my side partner, and I'm not going to have him lose
+what property he has without another try. Let me know right away about
+this."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+HOCKEY--WITH VARIATIONS
+
+
+Allan, Tommy, and Hal stood at the side of the rink, up to their ankles
+in snow, and watched Pete play hockey. The rink was built at the
+far end of Erskine Field, and looked, from the locker house, like a
+brand-new cattle-pen.
+
+This Saturday afternoon it was snowing in a half-hearted way, making
+the ice slushy and hiding the town from view. There were about fifty
+other fellows looking on, for the Midyears had begun, and anything
+to take the mind off examinations was welcome. The varsity team had
+traveled down the river to play Hastings High School, and the freshman
+team was making the most of its opportunities.
+
+There were only twelve candidates present, and so the opposing teams
+each lacked a forward. But in spite of this the play was fast and
+furious, making up in enthusiasm what it lacked in science. Pete was
+playing cover-point on the first team, and thus far his performance
+had not lacked of applause. If some of the applause was unmistakably
+sarcastic, still it was applause.
+
+Pete was a hard skater and very much at home on the ice, but there
+wasn't much of grace about him. He hadn't as yet learned the subtleties
+of stick-handling, but he usually managed to get the puck by the simple
+expedient of skating full-tilt against the opponent and knocking him
+down in a good-natured, inoffensive way. Allan, Tommy, and Hal felt,
+as they watched, that they were being fully rewarded for tramping out
+there through the snow.
+
+"Let's see you skate backward, Pete," called Allan in a lull of the
+game. Pete grinned.
+
+"Give us the grape-vine, Pete," begged Tommy. Pete grinned again.
+
+"How are you on the outer-edge, old man?" asked Hal. Pete continued to
+grin.
+
+Then the puck came sliding down toward him, dribbled this way and that
+by the hockey of an opposing forward. Pete drew himself together,
+grasped his stick in both hands as though it was a bludgeon, and rushed
+toward the foe. Down went the foe, and the three admirers laughed
+joyfully. But Pete didn't get the puck, for the vanquished one had
+succeeded in passing it across to another forward, exhibiting the
+first suggestion of team-play of the afternoon, so far as the second
+team was concerned, and Pete skated wildly in pursuit. The point went
+out to meet the attack, another clever pass was made, and then--
+Presto! goal was shaking his head and pulling the disk out from under
+the netting. The second had scored.
+
+"Ah, that was great work, Pete!" cried Allan, admiringly.
+
+"That was _playing_!" said Hal. "Oh, it was great!"
+
+"Real science, _I_ call it!" declared Tommy. "How'd you do it, Pete?"
+
+"Don't you mind their scoring, Pete," said Allan, encouragingly. "You
+knocked your man down. Just you kill all you want to."
+
+Pete skated over and scattered them with his hockey.
+
+"You wait till I get these skates off," he threatened, "and I'll roll
+you three little snipes in the snow!"
+
+"Don't waste your strength on us, Pete," begged Tommy from a safe
+distance. "Slaughter the enemy. Don't be discouraged; there's only six
+left."
+
+"Eat 'em up, Pete!" cried Hal.
+
+Pete shook his stick at them and turned away. As he skated back to his
+position a chorus of admiring "A-a-ahs!" followed him. When the second
+half was almost done the score was 5 to 6, in the first team's favor,
+and the captain of the second, a big, round-faced chap who played
+center, called on his support for a goal.
+
+"Play hard, fellows, and let's tie this!" he commanded. "Play together
+now!"
+
+Fortune seemed to be favoring them. They secured the rubber and swept
+with it down the rink. As usual, Pete put one man out of the play, but
+by the time he had recovered from the check the advance was past him
+and was threatening the goal. Both teams were mixed in wild confusion,
+and the puck was carroming about from goal to attack and from attack to
+defense. Then it was sped knee-high at the net, was luckily stopped by
+the goal, and shot out to the side right at Pete's feet.
+
+Pete started off with it, but was in such a hurry that he overskated,
+and had to fight for it. When he again secured possession the attack
+was thick about him. But he started off again, and the forwards of
+his side skated to their positions. Pete kept close to the boards,
+fooled the opposing cover-point by carroming the puck against them, and
+for an instant had a clear shot at goal. But shooting wasn't Pete's
+specialty, and so he charged on until, well past the center of the
+ice, the second team's captain charged him fiercely from the side,
+hurling him against the boards and knocking his stick into the air.
+
+Luckily, the puck struck the adversary's skate and carromed back to the
+side, and Pete, thrusting his skate against it, held it there while the
+other pushed and shoved with his body and tried to work the puck loose
+with his stick. About them hovered friend and foe, awaiting the instant
+when the disk should slide out of the _melee_.
+
+The second-team player fought like mad and at last, by a fierce
+shove, moved Pete's foot. Pete, fearing loss of the precious prize,
+swung quickly around, bringing his adversary to the boards, and then,
+catching him with one hand at the knee, tipped him over the barrier
+into the soft snow.
+
+[Illustration: Pete tipped him over the barrier.]
+
+Without waiting to see him safely landed, Pete rescued the puck from
+an interloping enemy and went straight down the rink with it, scorning
+friend and foe alike, and drove it furiously into goal. When he swung
+around and looked back, it seemed that a devastating gale had swept
+over the rink, for along his route first-team men and second-team men
+were picking themselves up from the ice. But what surprised him more
+was the appearance of the second's captain, who, snow-covered, black
+of face and scowling, was swaggering up to him.
+
+"What did you do that for?" he growled.
+
+From the sides of the rink came shouts of laughter. Allan, Hal, and
+Tommy were hanging feebly over the barrier, beating the planks with
+their hands in gasping impotence.
+
+"Do what?" asked Pete, plainly at a loss.
+
+"Throw me over the boards," answered the other, belligerently.
+
+"Oh, that?" asked Pete. "Why, you were in my way, you see."
+
+"You shouldn't have done that, Burley," said the first team's captain.
+"But you needn't try and scrap here on the ice," he continued, turning
+to the other. "Play the game!"
+
+"Look here," said Pete, "wasn't that all right? Mustn't I do that?"
+
+"Of course you can't. You ought to know the rules. The puck goes back
+there again." The first's captain turned away impatiently.
+
+"It's on me, partner," said Pete. "Sorry, and hope I didn't hurt you."
+
+"All right," muttered the other, as graciously as he could. The
+knowledge that he had served as a source of intense amusement prevented
+him from putting much cordiality into his tones. The puck was taken
+back to where Pete had transgressed the rules, and again faced off by
+him and the second's captain. The latter got possession and the play
+went on, but to the onlookers it was very dull, and none cared when,
+after a minute or two, the game came to an end.
+
+Allan, Hal, and Tommy, still very red of face and still grinning,
+awaited Pete and escorted him back to the college in triumph, Hal
+marching ahead and chanting an improvised paean of praise until Pete
+seized him and rolled him over in the snow. Thereupon Hal retired to a
+safe distance and threw snowballs at Pete. He was not, however, a very
+good shot and, as a result, Tommy and Allan were hit more often than
+their companion. It ended with the three joining forces against the
+obnoxious Hal and chasing him all the way down Poplar Street.
+
+When he reached Mrs. Purdy's, in his retreat, he withdrew into Allan's
+room, locked the door, and sent Two Spot, a white handkerchief tied
+around her neck, out by way of a window, to treat with the besiegers.
+The flag of truce was respected. Hal opened the window and agreed
+to surrender if allowed to march forth from the citadel with colors
+flying, and his terms were accepted. He retired from view and presently
+reappeared in Allan's plaid dressing-gown, and holding aloft a Hillton
+flag. Silently and proudly he marched forth and twice paraded the
+piazza. Then the enemy, violating the rules of warfare, fell upon him
+as one man, and he was borne, struggling and kicking, back into the
+citadel and deposited on the couch.
+
+Allan returned to the front yard and rescued his handkerchief, which
+was trailing in the snow as Two Spot chased an imaginary mouse around
+the bare and solitary rose-bush. Tommy had meanwhile poked the fire
+into a blaze, and victors and vanquished drew up to it, while Pete
+smoked the pipe of peace and the others ate sweet chocolate, which, as
+Tommy pointed out, represented the fruits of victory.
+
+Two Spot sat on Pete's broad knee and purred and blinked at the flames
+and occasionally stuck her claws tentatively through Pete's trousers as
+a proof of her affection. And everybody felt very jolly and comfortable
+until the six-o'clock bell sent them to prepare for dinner.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+IN THE "CORRAL"
+
+
+While the snow kept piling itself up and the Midyears were still
+racking fellows' brains, the call came for candidates for the relay
+team to run against Robinson at the Boston indoor meeting. And
+simultaneously the outdoor track was shoveled free of snow and fellows
+whose ambitions pointed toward the winning of pewter mugs trotted out
+in the afternoons, when the mercury was down to zero, and sped around
+the track with their bare legs looking very pink and cold. Kernahan
+had induced Allan to enter for both the mile and the two mile, and the
+latter was one of the most indefatigable of those who daily risked
+death by freezing.
+
+He was glad to be able to stretch his legs again, was Allan. He had
+begun to wonder whether the muscles hadn't forgotten how to work. He
+had his first mile trial a week after the beginning of practise and a
+fortnight before the date of the meeting.
+
+The result wasn't especially satisfactory; 4:56 was not anywhere near
+record time for that track, while it was more than twenty seconds
+slower than what it must be to give him a chance at winning a place.
+But Kernahan seemed in nowise discouraged. Instead, he told Allan he
+had done well enough for a starter, and promised to give him a trial at
+the two miles a week later.
+
+Meanwhile the relay candidates were tested and sifted, the candidates
+for the field events practised daily in the gymnasium, and athletic
+activity seized upon the college. The baseball cage resounded with
+the thump of the balls and the cries of the players, the rowing-room
+gave forth strange sounds of an afternoon, and the basket-ball team,
+undisputed lords of the gymnasium floor for two months, were hustled
+into a corner and given scant attention.
+
+And yet, in spite of all these hints, Winter was strangely dense.
+Instead of folding up his blanket of snow and taking himself off, he
+showed no sign of contemplated departure, but on the contrary tightened
+his icy grip on the world, and almost every day sent a new snow-storm
+to emphasize the fact that he still reigned.
+
+Afternoon practise on the track took place in every sort of weather.
+Sometimes it snowed so hard that the runners, as they swept around the
+far end of the track, were only indistinct blurs in the white mist.
+Sometimes the track was sheeted with a rough skim of ice, through
+which the men's spikes broke imperfectly, and on such days the spills
+were numerous and the turns were things to be carefully negotiated.
+Sometimes the sun shone and the wind blew, straight and cold, out of
+the northeast; and such times were best, deluding one for a while, as
+they did, into thinking that winter's sway was drawing to its end. But
+they were deceitful moments, and one could fancy old Winter shaking
+his lean sides with laughter as he drew the clouds together again and
+emptied a new shower of flakes upon the bleak world.
+
+But matters progressed. The relay team of six runners was formed, the
+sprinters and distance men worked themselves into condition, and the
+hurdlers, jumpers, vaulters, and weight men limbered up their muscles.
+
+A week before the meeting Allan was given a speed trial for the two
+miles. The track was in fairly good condition, and Rindgely and
+Thatcher made the pace. With Allan was another two-mile candidate,
+named Conroy. Allan took the lead at the start and held it for the
+first half mile. Rindgely went in then and made the pace for the next
+three-quarters, and then gave place to Thatcher, a half-miler. Conroy
+was a lap behind at the half distance, and at the finish was entirely
+out of it. Allan found his sprinting ability sorely tried in the last
+two laps when Thatcher let himself out and Allan tried to keep up with
+him. But he finished fairly strong, and Kernahan slipped his watch into
+his pocket with a nod of approval.
+
+"Ten, one and an eighth," he said.
+
+But that seemed slow time to Allan, who had entertained visions of
+doing the distance in something like 9:50, and he said so to Billy.
+
+"Well, that's good enough to give you a chance of a place," he
+answered. "You've got three months yet before the dual meet, and
+Robinson's best two-miler could only do--9:46, I think it was. You'll
+get some experience at the Boston meet, if you don't bring home a mug,
+and experience is what you need. You'll have to get into your pace
+sooner down there or you'll get crowded off the track. You try half a
+dozen starts Monday and try getting your pace in the first six or eight
+strides. You'd better run along now, and don't be scarey of the cold
+water, my boy."
+
+During that next week the class hockey championship was decided. The
+freshmen won handily from the sophomores by the score of seven goals
+to three in the first of the contests, and to Pete went the credit for
+four of the seven goals. He played magnificently.
+
+To be sure, as has been said already, he knew little of the science of
+the game, but what he lacked there he made up in vigor and enthusiasm.
+Thrice he was put off the ice for short periods, but this only caused
+him to work harder when he was allowed to re-enter the game. In the
+second half--the first period having ended with the score three to four
+in favor of '07--he was played up into the forward line, and when he
+secured the puck and once got away with it, it was his until he had
+shot at the sophomores' goal. If Pete had been able to shoot as well as
+he skated and dodged the enemy, the score would have been overwhelming.
+
+But Pete's Waterloo came when the deciding game was contested with '04.
+Pete's playing was just as hard and fast as before, but the seniors had
+two or three players who, in the language of Tommy, "made rings around
+him." Every time Pete tried one of his sensational rushes, some one or
+other of the discourteous enemy, carefully avoiding his body, stole the
+puck from under his nose. Pete endured it for a while untroubled, then
+he began to break hockeys. But the supply seemed unlimited, and the
+remedy wasn't successful. Defeat fell to '07's share.
+
+They tried to tease Pete on the afternoon's performance that evening,
+but Pete was invulnerable to gibes. The four had congregated in the
+"corral" and were hugging the stove closely, Pete sitting astride the
+stock saddle which, for want of a chair, he had lugged from its corner.
+
+"Must have cost you something for sticks," Tommy suggested.
+
+"Must have cost the other fellows something," laughed Hal. "I saw
+Rindgely lose three. You were a destructive chap, Pete."
+
+"Rindgely was plumb crazy," answered Pete, with a broad smile. "Every
+time he got a new stick, I bust it for him. I don't just know whether
+that's good hockey, but I know it worked mighty well. But Rindgely's
+got it in for me, all right."
+
+"He seems to have it in for me too," said Allan, thoughtfully. "The
+other day he didn't want to make pace for me when I tried the two
+miles, and acted nasty as you like afterward in the locker house."
+
+"He's a queer customer," said Tommy. "A pretty good fellow to keep away
+from. I don't mean that there's anything wrong with him, you know, but
+he's awfully uncertain. You never can tell how he's going to take a
+thing. Just after recess I met him one day, and asked him if he'd taken
+in the St. Thomas Club Indoor Meet--he lives in Brooklyn, you know--and
+he nearly took my head off; said he wasn't home Christmas, and implied
+that it was none of my business. I told him I didn't care a rap where
+he was."
+
+"That's right, Tommy; don't you let them monkey with you," laughed
+Allan.
+
+"Well, what did he want to jump on me for?" asked Tommy, warmly. "I
+didn't care whether he went to the old meet or not; I just wanted to be
+polite. The reason I mentioned the meet was that he'd told about going
+the year before while he was at home, and I just happened to remember
+seeing something about it before Christmas. It's an open meeting, you
+know, and they have a big card--weights, team races, boxing, and all
+sorts of stunts."
+
+"What is he, a miler?" asked Hal.
+
+Tommy nodded.
+
+"Guess that explains his cutting up with you, Allan; you beat him in
+the fall, didn't you?"
+
+"Yes, with a good big handicap."
+
+"Well, he's afraid you're going to cut him out of a place in the dual
+meet."
+
+"There's no good reason why he should think so. He can beat me, I'm
+pretty sure. Besides, if Billy Kernahan has his way, I'll be down only
+for the two miles at the dual."
+
+"We're going to have a dandy article on the indoor meeting this week,"
+said Tommy.
+
+"Wrote it yourself, eh?" suggested Hal.
+
+"I suppose it will be like last year's, though," Tommy continued,
+ruefully. "We had two columns, with everything figured out finely: who
+was going to do what, and which fellows would win places. And then it
+came out all wrong."
+
+"Say, Thomas," said Pete, when the laughter had subsided, "I don't want
+to hurry you, but I'm getting the powerful hungers."
+
+"Yes, Tommy, how about that dinner at the Elm Tree?" chimed in Hal.
+
+"He's making money to pay for it," said Allan.
+
+"No, I'm not," answered Tommy, sadly. "That's the trouble. You'll have
+to wait a bit, Pete; I'm dead broke, honest Injun!"
+
+"All right; just so long as I get that feed. Better not put it off too
+long, though; I'm nicely conditioned, you know, since the Midyears, and
+there's no telling what may happen to me."
+
+"That's so," Allan said. "A fellow that's been drowned, suspended,
+and put on probation, all in two short months, is a pretty slippery
+customer."
+
+"Say, Allan," said Tommy, reminiscently, "do you remember the night we
+waited up here for that duffer to come home?"
+
+"The night he was drowned?" asked Allan. "Never'll forget it. The way
+the wind howled and cut up was a caution; made me think of graveyards
+and--and corpses."
+
+"Me, too," said Tommy. "I went back to the room and dreamed of Pete
+floating in my bath-tub, with his old smelly pipe in his mouth and his
+face all white and horrid. Every time he puffed on the pipe he winked
+his eye at me, and I woke up yelling like a good one." Tommy arose from
+his seat and stood gazing into the flames. "It was a beast of a dream."
+
+"Must have been," Hal responded, sympathetically. Pete puffed silently
+at the afore-mentioned pipe and grinned heartlessly. Tommy glanced over
+at him and commenced an aimless ramble about the room.
+
+"I said then," he went on, "that if Pete-- Say, it's getting beastly
+hot in here. Let's have the door open."
+
+In spite of the protests, he opened the portal into the narrow hallway,
+and continued his rambling and his talk.
+
+"I made up my mind then that if Pete wasn't drowned, that if I ever saw
+his dear, foolish, homely face again, I'd--I'd----"
+
+"Be a better man," Hal suggested.
+
+"Learn to write English," offered Allan.
+
+"Pay your debts," muttered Pete over his pipe-stem.
+
+"_I'd take a fall out of him!_" concluded Tommy, savagely. At the
+same instant he put a hand under Pete's chin, tipped him heels over
+head backward onto the floor, smothered his outcries by banging the
+saddle down over his face, punched him twice in the ribs--and flew!
+His forethought in opening the door saved him. As he dived through he
+slammed it behind him in Pete's face, and the others heard four wild
+leaps on the staircase. Then all was still save for Pete's chuckles.
+But stay! What sound was that from beneath the window; what doleful
+wailings broke upon the night air? They hearkened.
+
+"Cowardy, cowardy, cowardy cat!" shrilled Tommy. "Dare you to come
+down, Pete Burley!"
+
+Pete threw up a front window. There was a sound of hasty footfalls and
+an exclamation as Tommy collided with an ash-barrel. Then from far up
+the street came a last defiant challenge: "_O Fresh!_"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+THE INDOOR MEETING
+
+
+Mechanics' Hall, Boston, was filled from floor to gallery, from doors
+to stage. The hum of voices, the fluttering of programs, the slow
+bellow of the announcer as, with megaphone at mouth, he gave the result
+of the events, made a strange medley of sound.
+
+From one corner of the floor to another there ran diagonally a
+lime-marked lane. Since half past seven white-trunked figures had
+rushed, half a dozen at a time, down this lane at top speed, had flung
+themselves panting, with outstretched arms, against the mattresses at
+the end, and had turned and trotted back to the dressing-rooms.
+
+The supply had seemed inexhaustible. Heat after heat had been run in
+the Forty Yards Novice, heat after heat in the Forty Yards Invitation,
+heat after heat in the Forty Yards Handicap, and now the hurdles were
+in place, the pistol was cracking forth, and white-clad forms were
+flying breathlessly over the bars and breasting the red string at the
+finish.
+
+At each report of the pistol the center gallery leaped to its feet, the
+hurdlers sprang into sight from below and sped away like arrows across
+the yellow floor. Hurdles crashed, the crowd shouted, the racers flung
+their arms at the tape and collapsed against the padded wall at the
+end of the lane, and the center gallery sank into its seats again and
+rustled its programs. And the announcer lifted his crimson trumpet:
+
+"Forty-five Yards Hurdles--fourth heat won by No. 390, No. 3 second;
+time, 6-2/5 seconds."
+
+There were dozens of colleges, schools, and associations represented
+there that night, and hundreds of competitors. There was the blue Y of
+Yale, the crimson H of Harvard, the red C of Cornell, the green D of
+Dartmouth, the purple E of Erskine, the brown R of Robinson, and many,
+many other insignia flaunted on heaving breasts.
+
+Thirty-odd officials, in immaculate evening clothes, lent a note of
+sobriety to the colorful scene, while a blue-coated policeman, whose
+duty it was to guard the long table of mugs and tankards, stood out
+intensely against the gleam and glitter of the prizes. On the big
+stage, the sloping bank of watchers looked from the floor like a bed
+of waving somber-hued flowers. From a corner of the balcony came the
+strains of brazen music.
+
+The jumping standards were set and the competitors ranged themselves
+along the edge of the track, their sweaters and dressing-gowns of all
+colors thrown loosely about their bare shoulders. The Clerk of Course
+could be heard at the dressing-room door summoning the men for the next
+event:
+
+"All out for the two miles!"
+
+The sloping corners of the track rang with the footsteps of the
+candidates as they warmed up. There were fifteen entries, and among
+them were men from Harvard, Yale, Cornell, Massachusetts Institute of
+Technology, Phillips Exeter Academy, and Erskine College. Erskine's
+representative was rather nervous as, with his number flapping at
+his back, he was assigned the place at the pole in the front line.
+Beside him was a Cornell runner whose prowess was well known, and
+Allan Ware marveled at his own temerity. Surely, he had no chance
+against the Cornell man, nor, for that matter, against several of the
+others. Well, he would run as well as he knew how and take his beating
+philosophically.
+
+The fact was, that the intense excitement was unnerving him. And that
+was why, when the starter had cried "Set!" Allan dashed forward, taking
+half the line with him. For this misdemeanor he and three others were
+promptly relegated to the last row. Then the command came again and the
+pistol cracked.
+
+At the first turn Allan had to fight to keep from being hustled from
+the track. After the next corner the runners had settled down to their
+work, a New York man making easy pace. Allan was well in front. The
+nervousness had left him now and he had no thought for the cheering
+spectators, for the blaring strains from the band, for anything, in
+short, save the struggle on hand. Lap after lap was reeled off until
+the race was half finished. Allan was still holding his own, with the
+consciousness of much power in reserve. The New York man still kept the
+lead, while close on his heels ran one of the Cornell contingent.
+
+Presently a Yale man fought his way up to Allan, and for half a lap
+they contested fifth place. Then, at a turn, the Yale man took the bank
+and slid into the lead, and Allan was sixth. He expected changes ahead.
+Of course the New York runner would not attempt to keep the lead much
+longer. He would drop back, Allan would overhaul the Yale chap, and in
+the last two laps he would call on the reserve power he was certain he
+had and fight it out to the finish.
+
+He looked back. The nearest runner was several yards away and didn't
+appear dangerous. The relative positions remained unchanged for another
+lap, and then things began to happen.
+
+The Yale man dropped back, a second Cornell man--Allan recognized him
+as the one who had been beside him at the start--spurted into third
+place, and Allan found himself still running fifth. He had lost count
+of the laps, but believed there could not be more than two left.
+
+So he started to crawl up. At the next corner, that by the
+dressing-rooms, he passed the Cornell man who had been second for so
+long; his duty was done and he was easing up on his pace. Down the
+stretch Allan gained on a Technology runner, but failed to pass him.
+Suddenly the gong announcing the last lap clanged. Allan glanced across
+the hall. The New York man was still in the lead, and was increasing
+that lead at every stride.
+
+Allan threw back his head and fought for third place. On the next
+stretch footsteps sounded behind him. At the first corner Allan just
+succeeded in keeping the lead; on the short stretch, a Yale man passed
+him and left him as though standing. It was all up now; he was fifth,
+and there was no chance of bettering his position. The leader, well
+ahead of the Cornell man, was taking the last corner. The Yale man
+who had just passed Allan was taking third place hand over fist.
+The Technology runner was plainly faltering, and yet, thought Allan
+savagely, here was he, with all sorts of power of lung and muscle left,
+dragging along behind him!
+
+He clasped his hands tighter and threw himself forward. Fourth place
+was better than fifth, he told himself, and at least he would not be
+beaten by a man who was ready to fall. So up he went, working as hard
+to beat out the Technology runner as though first place was at stake.
+And beat him he did, and turned off of the track and walked back to the
+dressing-room apparently as untired as when he had started.
+
+"You lost that race," said Kernahan, "when you lost your place in the
+first row. But don't you care; you've learned a thing or two, and one
+of them's to wait for the pistol."
+
+"But I'm not decently winded," Allan complained. "I could run the mile
+now, and yet those chaps beat me."
+
+"Sprinting ability is what you've got to learn, my boy. And with three
+months before the dual----"
+
+"Hang the dual!" said Allan, petulantly. "I wanted to win this."
+
+"Well, there's the mile yet," said Billy, soothingly.
+
+But the mile brought Allan scant satisfaction. He was given a handicap
+of thirty-five yards, and, although this time he was careful to wait
+for the pistol, he came to the conclusion when half the distance was
+run that he might as well drop out of the race. There were almost fifty
+entries, and it seemed less a race than a fast-moving procession. The
+turns were always filled with fellows elbowing and fighting, and after
+the half-distance it was hard to tell who the leaders were, so close
+they were to the tail-enders.
+
+Rindgely and Harris had also entered, and about the only satisfaction
+Allan was able to gather was derived from the fact that he had them
+beaten from the start. But the smaller handicaps allowed those youths
+had something to do with that. Allan never knew what number he was at
+the finish, and didn't much care.
+
+In the dressing-room, Harris, Rindgely, Long, and Monroe--the latter
+the only Erskine entry who had won a place--were finding balm in the
+fact that Robinson hadn't showed up in a single event.
+
+"Wait until the team race, though," said Rindgely, darkly. "That's
+where they'll get us; you'll see."
+
+"Don't believe it," said Harris, stoutly. "When does it come off?"
+
+"After this, I think," said Long. "Who's got a program?"
+
+"That's right," said Monroe. "Hello, Ware! Say, that was a perfect
+mess, wasn't it?"
+
+"Yes, it was," growled Allan. "I never knew whether I was running this
+lap or the last one."
+
+"Or the one ahead," added Harris.
+
+"Thought you were going to do something," said Rindgely. "You had a
+good chance."
+
+"Did I?" Allan responded, with intense sarcasm. "All right, only I
+didn't know it."
+
+"Let's get out of here and see the Harvard and Penn race," Long
+suggested. "Where's our team?"
+
+"They're out there somewhere. Thatcher says we're going to get it put
+all over us," said Allan.
+
+"Thatcher's an old raven," said Harris, as they crowded out to where
+they could watch the race. "If he runs as well as he croaks, we're all
+right."
+
+Harvard secured the race with University of Pennsylvania, and though
+the result was not long in doubt, yet the crimson-clad runners were
+forced to better the record by three-fifths of a second. Then the
+clerk's voice was heard at the dressing-room door:
+
+"All out for Erskine-Robinson Team Race! All out!"
+
+Of Erskine's relay team, only Thatcher, the captain, was an experienced
+runner. The others--Poor, Gibbons, and Tolmann--had earned the right to
+represent the college at the trials, but for all of that were unknown
+quantities. They were all of them, Thatcher included, small men; Poor
+was little over five feet in height, and looked as though he had never
+had enough to eat. As they trotted around the track, getting warmed
+up, Robinson's candidates overtopped them to a man. It was a big,
+long-limbed quartet that Robinson had sent, and had the result depended
+on height and length of leg alone the Brown would have had the race won
+at the start.
+
+Allan had secured a place near the front of the throng at the
+dressing-room door, and beside him, noticeable because of the evening
+clothes which he wore, was one of the officials, an inspector whose
+name was down on the program as "Horace L. Pearson, N. Y. A. C." It was
+while the two teams were still warming up that Allan heard his name
+spoken, and turned to find Mr. Pearson in conversation with Harris.
+
+"Beg your pardon," the inspector was saying, "but the man beyond you
+there is Ware, of your college, isn't he?" But he wasn't looking in
+Allan's direction at all.
+
+"No, sir," answered Harris, "that's Rindgely."
+
+"Sure of it?"
+
+"Quite, sir," replied Harris, smiling.
+
+"Hm! I saw he was down on the card as Rindgely, but I thought maybe it
+was a mistake. What does the other man, Ware, look like?"
+
+"He's here somewhere," said Harris. And then his voice dropped and
+Allan, looking carefully away, felt the inspector's gaze upon his
+face. He wondered what it might mean and why Rindgely had been mistaken
+for him, but his speculation was short-lived, for at that moment the
+pistol cracked and two runners, one with his white shirt crossed with
+a brown silk ribbon and the other bearing a purple E on his breast,
+sprang forward and fought for the lead at the first turn. The Erskine
+man was Thatcher and his opponent was named Guild. As they reached the
+other end of the track and sped past the dressing-room, conflicting
+shouts of encouragement from Erskine and Robinson supporters followed
+them.
+
+Thatcher had secured the pole at the start and had leaped into the lead
+at the turn. He was still ahead, but Guild was close behind him, his
+long strides seeming to be always on the point of taking him past, yet
+never doing so. Thatcher's plan was plainly to hand over the race to
+the next runner of his team with a good, big margin of gain, trusting
+that, if unable to increase the advantage, the other Erskine men would
+at least hold what they had. But the big gain wasn't forthcoming yet.
+
+As he neared the starting-point and the finish of the first of his two
+laps he strove desperately to leave his opponent, but it was not until
+the last lap was a third run that daylight opened up between the two.
+The Robinson chap was proving himself a worthy foe. Half-way around the
+last lap there was ten feet between Purple and Brown. From there on
+down to the mark, where the next two men stood with eager, outstretched
+hands, Thatcher gained and gained; but he had commenced late, and when
+Guild touched the hand of his team-mate and fell over into the arms of
+the Robinson trainer he was only fifteen yards to the bad.
+
+Gibbons, short of leg and rather heavy of build, was flying over the
+first turn as though possessed, and behind him pattered Thorpe of
+Robinson. Down the stretch they flew, while the band was drowned by
+the shouts of the onlookers. It was a pretty contest that, even though
+to discerning ones, at least, the end was not in doubt. Gibbons looked
+like a small whirlwind, and gave every indication of killing himself
+before the second lap was finished, but Thorpe, with long and easy
+strides, ate up the interval between them foot by foot, and when the
+second lap began was in position to take the lead whenever he wanted to.
+
+Half-way down the side he did so. Gibbons fought him off desperately
+for an instant, but at the turn Robinson led by a yard. Then it was
+that Gibbons surprised even his trainer, for, instead of steadily
+dropping back, he refused to yield an inch and chased Thorpe down to
+the finish like an avenging fate, crossing the line a bare yard behind
+him.
+
+That yard of advantage was five yards half through the next lap,
+Tolmann failing to prove a match for Brine of Robinson. Foot after foot
+and yard after yard opened up between them, and when the last lap began
+the Brown's runner was an eighth of a lap ahead.
+
+"Well, that's settled right now," said Long, who had jostled his way to
+Allan's side. "If we still had Thatcher we might stand some show, but I
+guess Poor can't cut down that lead enough to make it look even close."
+
+"Thatcher's idea was all right," said Allan, "but he didn't know how
+good his man was. Robinson's next man is her captain, I think, and I
+suppose he ought to be the best of the lot."
+
+"He ought to be, but maybe he isn't. Poor is a plucky little chap, and
+maybe he'll give Jones a run for his money. Look at him!"
+
+At the other end of the hall Erskine's last hope was leaning over the
+mark, one slim white arm thrust forward and one reaching impatiently
+back toward where Tolmann, swaying and gasping, was vainly striving
+to save the race. Poor looked plucky without a doubt, and when, after
+what seemed an age, Tolmann struck weakly at his hand and staggered
+off the track, he was off like a shot, his thin legs twinkling like a
+salmon-colored streak as he followed the Robinson captain. The latter
+was almost a quarter of a lap ahead and was running easily, yet keeping
+a watchful glance upon his opponent. And, as it proved, that watchful
+glance was not thrown away.
+
+The band blared forth a two-step with might and main, supporters of the
+rival colleges clapped, shouted, and shrieked, and the runners' shoes
+_tap-tapped_ on the floor and pounded over the built-up corners.
+
+And then, of a sudden, a roar started among the audience and gathered
+volume and swept deafeningly across the great hall, and Allan,
+raising himself on tiptoes, gave a shout of joy. For just an instant
+or two after passing the second turn the Robinson captain had become
+inattentive to his pursuer, and in that brief moment Poor had literally
+eaten up space with his flying feet until now twenty yards would have
+spanned the distance between them. Jones, warned by the applause,
+leaped ahead, but Poor refused to yield an inch he had gained. More
+than that, he kept on gaining.
+
+The bell clanged the beginning of the last lap of the race and the
+Robinson runner swept over the line fifteen yards ahead of Poor, his
+long strides making the latter's look ridiculously short by comparison.
+But if his strides were short, they were also rapid, and Poor, his
+little, weazened face screwed into an agony of effort, chased his
+opponent down in the next half lap, and at the second turn was barely
+two yards behind. Jones was plainly worried. As he pounded around the
+corner his right arm was thrust out in an involuntary effort to keep
+his opponent from passing him. But Poor was not able to do that on
+the turn, and for the next stretch their relative positions remained
+unchanged.
+
+As they dashed by the group at the dressing-room door, Allan and Long
+and Harris and the others shrieked exhortations and encouragement to
+their runner. Then the next turn was taken, Jones stumbled, saved
+himself, and led the way down the last stretch, his head back, his
+mouth wide open, and his speed lessening at every stride.
+
+But if he was ready to give up, so, too, was Poor, who had run a
+quarter of a lap farther than he. And all the way down that stretch the
+Robinson captain struggled and faltered and the Erskine runner dogged
+his steps, unable to pass him. And then something happened, and so
+quickly that it was all over before the sight had time to register the
+meaning of it on the brain.
+
+Half-way over the turn, and twenty yards from the finish, Jones swayed,
+tripped, and rolled over to the edge of the track, and Poor, less than
+two yards behind him, plunged blindly over him, sprawled and rolled
+along for three yards, and then, in some strange manner, found his feet
+and took up the running again. So, too, did Jones, but the larger man
+had fallen more heavily, and for an instant remained dazed upon the
+floor.
+
+That instant decided the race, for although he was up again almost
+before the audience had sensed the catastrophe, yet he had lost the
+lead. For the last few yards the two men, giddy, swaying, their heads
+fallen almost onto their breasts, strove weakly for the line. The next
+moment Poor threw out his arms and sprawled forward on his face across
+the chalk-mark and Jones, stumbling past him, fell, sliding on hands
+and knees to the edge of the track.
+
+Down by the dressing-room door Allan and the others were whooping it up
+joyfully, for Erskine had turned defeat into victory and won the relay
+by a scant three yards!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+ALLAN LEAVES THE CLUB TABLE
+
+
+March winds are freakish, prankish things, and the wind in the face of
+which Allan crossed the yard one morning a fortnight or so after the
+indoor meeting was no exception. He was on his way from Grace Hall to
+the Chemical Laboratory for a ten o'clock, and at the corner of the
+chapel he passed a couple of fellows whom a casual glance showed him he
+did not know. But that he was not a stranger to one of them was soon
+proven. The wind, scurrying around the corner of the chapel, tossed him
+the following fragment of conversation with startling distinctness:
+
+"Who's that fellow, Steve?"
+
+"Ware, a freshie; he runs, or tries to. He was in the mile and two
+miles at Boston week before last and didn't do a thing in either of
+them. Guess the Athletic Association will take his job away now. They
+just employed him to keep him in college, I guess. This thing of giving
+fellows work just because----"
+
+The words ended as suddenly as they had begun, so far as Allan was
+concerned, and he strode on to the laboratory. But his cheeks were
+burning and his heart was filled with wrath. For the first time he
+realized that his employment by the E. A. A. had a suspicious look, to
+say the least, while it was even probable that what the fellow he had
+overheard thought was really true. He was angry at the unknown youth
+for saying what he had, angry with Stearns for placing him in such a
+questionable position, and angry at Professor Nast for countenancing
+it. He wondered whether all the fellows he knew or who knew him
+believed as did the fellow he had passed, that he was knowingly
+allowing the Athletic Association to present him with money he was not
+earning.
+
+The blood dyed his face again, and he marveled at his blindness.
+Why had he not seen from the first that Stearns had secured him the
+place in the office merely to ensure his stay at college and his
+participation in the dual meet with Robinson? And hadn't he more than
+half suspected all along? But no, he was guiltless of that charge.
+Credulous and blind he had been, but not dishonest. And dishonest he
+would not be now. He passed a miserable, impatient half-hour, and when
+it was over hurried to the office of the Athletic Association and found
+Professor Nast at his desk.
+
+The professor was a mild-mannered little man, rather nervous and
+seemingly indecisive, but he was executively capable and had much sound
+common sense. He viewed Allan's arrival with mild curiosity, nodded
+silently, and turned back to his work. But Allan didn't allow him to
+continue it.
+
+"How much am I worth here, sir, if you please?" he demanded,
+unceremoniously. The chairman looked somewhat startled and disconcerted.
+
+"Why--er--that is a difficult question to answer, Mr. Ware. But if
+you--ah--consider that you are not being paid enough, I shall be glad
+to consider the matter of increased remuneration if you will make out
+an application in writing, stating----"
+
+"Well, is my work here worth a dollar an hour, sir?"
+
+"Eh? A dollar an hour? I--er-- But I think you are receiving that
+amount, are you not?"
+
+"Yes, sir; and that's what the trouble is."
+
+"Trouble? Suppose you explain what you mean."
+
+"Well, I--" He hesitated for words an instant and then threw politeness
+to the winds. "You've made me do what isn't honest, you and Stearns,"
+he charged, angrily. "You offered me the work here just to keep me in
+college, so I could run at your old meet, and you gave me a dollar
+an hour for work that any one would do for half that money. Oh,
+I know it's lots my fault," he went on, silencing the professor's
+remonstrances. "I ought to have guessed it, but I didn't. I didn't
+think a thing about it until to-day I overheard a fellow say in plain
+words that I was taking money I wasn't earning. That's a nice thing to
+have fellows say about you, isn't it? And I dare say the whole college
+thinks just as he does, and--and----"
+
+"Hold up a minute," said the professor, finally making himself heard.
+"You're accusing Mr. Stearns and me of pretty hard things. Let's talk
+this over quietly. Sit down, please."
+
+Allan obeyed. The professor swung around in his chair until he faced
+him, clasped his hands over his vest, and gravely studied Allan's angry
+countenance.
+
+"I'm not sure that you--ah--have any right to come here and charge
+me--or Mr. Stearns--with unfair dealings. But I will accord you the
+right, Mr. Ware, for I see that there has been a mistake made. It was,
+however, a mistake and nothing more, I assure you. Neither Mr. Stearns
+nor I had any intention of deceiving you. Allow me to finish, please,"
+he added, as Allan made an impatient movement.
+
+"It has been the custom here, of recent years, to give employment in
+this office to men who have needed the work, and preference has been
+given to athletes. If they have been paid more for their labor than
+that labor was really worth--and I am ready to grant that they usually
+have--the money with which they were paid has always come out of the
+general athletic fund and not from the college. I am not--ah--prepared
+to defend this custom; on the contrary, sir, I think it a very bad one,
+and I for one should be glad to see it discontinued. In your case,
+now, Mr. Stearns came and saw me and told me you needed employment.
+The place was vacant and I offered it to you at the terms which have
+always been paid. You are not earning one dollar an hour, Mr. Ware,
+and if you feel that you have been deceived by us, I am very sorry. No
+deception was intended on my part, and I am sure Mr. Stearns believed
+that you--er--understood the situation."
+
+"I didn't, though," answered Allan, somewhat conciliated by the other's
+manner. "I didn't dream of it. I--I did think the work was rather easy
+considering the pay, but I thought maybe it would get harder, and
+that--that I could make up. If I had known the truth, I wouldn't have
+had anything to do with the work."
+
+"I am sorry, but, as I have said, there was no intent at deception.
+I offer you my apologies, and I am sure Mr. Stearns will be quite as
+regretful as I am. If there is anything I can do to better matters, I
+shall be delighted to do it, Mr. Ware."
+
+"Yes, sir, there is. I'd like to keep on with the work until I have
+squared myself."
+
+"You mean you want to work without wages?"
+
+Allan nodded. The professor considered the matter for a while in
+silence. Then--
+
+"If you insist," he said, "we will make that arrangement. But there
+is another method that may answer fully as well. Are you averse to
+continuing the work at--er--a just remuneration?"
+
+"N-no, I suppose not," Allan replied. "I need the work, and if you'll
+pay me only what it's worth I'd like to go ahead with it."
+
+"I'm glad to hear you say so, for you have been very conscientious,
+Mr. Ware, and your services in the office have become valuable to
+me. I should dislike to make a change. Supposing, then, you continue
+at--ah--fifty cents an hour? Would that be satisfactory?"
+
+"Is it worth that much?" asked Allan, bluntly.
+
+"Yes, it honestly is; it is worth quite that. Well, and in regard
+to--ah--let us say arrears; I am working on the compilation of a rather
+difficult lot of statistics which are to be incorporated into my
+report. You could assist me vastly with that matter and could work,
+say, an hour three evenings a week. In that way, it seems to me, you
+could very shortly 'square' yourself, as you term it, and could, to
+some extent, choose your own time for doing so. What do you--ah--think?"
+
+Allan considered the matter. It sounded rather easy, and since an
+hour ago he had grown to view easy tasks with suspicion. But he could
+find no ground for objection, and in the end he accepted the proposal
+gratefully and stammered a somewhat lame apology for his hasty
+discourtesy. The Chairman of the Athletic Committee waved it politely
+aside.
+
+"We will consider it settled, then," he said. "This afternoon we will
+decide on the hours for the extra work. I'm glad you brought this
+matter up, Mr. Ware, for I think the time has come to do away with a
+pernicious custom. Good morning."
+
+On his way to his next recitation Allan reflected somewhat ruefully
+that under the new arrangement there was one thing which had been lost
+sight of, and that was a public vindication. As long as he continued
+to work in the office fellows would continue to think he was receiving
+money not earned. To be sure, he had the consolation of a clear
+conscience, but it was hard to have the fellows he knew and whose
+respect he craved think badly of him.
+
+But there Allan was mistaken, for the story got out in short
+order--Tommy saw to that!--and it wasn't long before he heard an
+account of the matter, in which he figured as a model of indignant
+virtue and a galley-slave to conscience, from a fellow whom he knew
+very slightly. After that he had no doubts about public vindication.
+
+It was not a difficult matter to find three hours in the evening each
+week for the new labor, and he found it, since he had a fondness for
+mathematics, far more interesting than the daily letter-writing and
+clerical work. But five dollars a week wasn't ten, and so, despite
+the protests of Pete and all the other members of the club table, he
+left the hospitality of Mrs. Pearson's and went back to the college
+dining-hall, where he could, by careful management, make his monthly
+bill ridiculously small. Pete commanded and implored to be allowed to
+"fix things up" so that Allan need not leave the table; he almost wept;
+but Allan was obdurate. Pete even threatened to "let the table go hang"
+and return with Allan to Commons, but was finally dissuaded when Allan
+pointed out that in all probability he (Allan) would very shortly be
+taken onto the training-table of the track squad.
+
+So Pete accepted the inevitable and draped Allan's chair with some
+dozen yards of black crepe, and allowed none to occupy it for a week
+of mourning. But Allan wasn't a stranger to the table, for every
+Saturday night he returned there as Pete's guest and sat in his old
+seat and was made much of by the crowd.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+AN ALARM OF FIRE
+
+
+    "Mary had a little dog,
+       It was a noble pup;
+     'Twould stand upon its front legs
+       When you'd hold its hind legs up!"
+
+Thus warbled Tommy as, having kicked the door shut, he subsided into
+one of Allan's chairs by sliding over the back. Allan pushed his
+book away, yawned dismally, and looked over at his visitor mutely
+questioning:
+
+"Where's Pete?" Tommy demanded.
+
+"Am I his keeper?" asked Allan.
+
+"You're his _fidus whatyoucallit_. Seen him to-night?"
+
+"No; maybe he's studying."
+
+"Careless youth," muttered Tommy. "Say, did you hear about Pete and
+Boeotia?"
+
+"No; who's Boeotia, anyway?"
+
+"Oh, it's that place in--er--ancient history, you know. It was at
+recitation this morning; Professor Grove asked Pete how Boeotia was
+situated. Pete wasn't prepared, but he thought he'd make a bluff at it.
+So he gets up and drawls out in his cheerfully idiotic way, 'Oh, he had
+a pretty good situation, but he lost it.'"
+
+"What did old Grove say?" laughed Allan.
+
+"Well, I wasn't there and can't tell you. I'm going to settle my debts
+this week, and we'll have that dinner at the Elm Tree Saturday night,
+if that's all right for you fellows."
+
+"It's all right for me," said Allan.
+
+"The funny part of it is," Tommy went on, smiling, "that I made just
+enough to pay for the dinner out of the reports of Pete's drowning
+which I sent to the Boston paper. I got my account yesterday."
+
+"Tell that to Pete," laughed Allan.
+
+"I'm going to. Where's the angel child?"
+
+"The angel child is probably out in the kitchen. I can't keep her at
+home since vacation; she found out then where the grub comes from."
+
+"I think she ought to go to the dinner with us, don't you?"
+
+"Well, scarcely. Let's go down to the 'Ranch' and see what Pete's up
+to. I can't study any more to-night."
+
+Town Lane was as dark as pitch save at remote intervals where
+street lamps flickered half-heartedly, and to reach Pete's domicile
+at night without breaking a limb was quite a feat. To-night nothing
+more exciting occurred than a collision with a stable door which was
+swinging open, and the two reached the corner to find Pete's windows
+brightly illumined. Tommy, being in a musical mood, took up a position
+underneath and broke into song.
+
+    "Here 'neath thy window, Love, I am waiting,
+       Waiting thy sweet face to see,"
+
+he declared, strumming the while on an imaginary guitar. But the verse
+came to an end without signs from the window, and so they climbed the
+stairs. The "Ranch" was deserted. But even as they assured themselves
+of the fact by looking into the bedroom, soft footfalls sounded on the
+stairs from the third-story loft, and a moment after Pete, looking
+like a conspirator, crept into the front room and softly closed the
+door behind him. Then his eyes fell on Allan and Tommy, and he grinned
+mysteriously.
+
+"Where'd you come from?" Allan demanded.
+
+"Up-stairs."
+
+"What's doing up there?" asked Tommy, suspiciously.
+
+"Nothing at all." But the grin remained. Tommy sniffed.
+
+"I'm going up to see," he threatened.
+
+Pete sank into a chair, took up his pipe, and spread his hands apart as
+if to say, "Please yourself; believe me or not, as you like." Then he
+lighted his pipe.
+
+"What have you done with your coat?" asked Allan. "And why are you
+festooned with cobwebs and decorated with dust?"
+
+"_Quien sabe?_" answered Pete, shrugging his broad shoulders.
+
+"Just the same, you've been up to something," declared Allan, sternly.
+"And you'd better 'fess up."
+
+"Huh!" grunted Pete.
+
+"Out with it!" commanded Tommy.
+
+"Huh!" said Pete again.
+
+"Sounds like a blamed old Indian, doesn't he?" asked Tommy,
+disgustedly. "Well, don't you come and beg me to intercede with the
+Dean for you."
+
+The smile on Pete's face broadened; he chuckled enjoyably; but commands
+and demands failed to move him to confession, and, after arranging for
+the dinner at the Inn, Allan and Tommy took their departure, Pete, for
+some reason and contrary to custom, making no effort to detain them. As
+they clambered down the steep stairs, Pete called after them:
+
+"Say, it would be a great night for a fire, wouldn't it?"
+
+"Fire?" repeated Allan. "Why?"
+
+"Oh, such a dandy old high wind," answered Pete. "Well, _adios_."
+
+"Wonder what he meant?" said Allan, on the way back. "It would be just
+like him to get into another mess."
+
+"About time," chuckled Tommy. "Good night."
+
+Allan went to bed soon after eleven, with Two Spot, according to
+nightly custom, curled up against the small of his back. For a while
+he lay awake listening to the howling and buffeting of the wind, but
+presently sleep came to him.
+
+It seemed hours later, but was in reality scarcely thirty minutes, when
+he awoke abruptly with the wild clanging of a bell in his ears. He sat
+up and listened. It was undoubtedly the fire-bell, and had he had any
+doubt about it the sound of running footsteps in the street would have
+convinced him at once.
+
+For a moment he weighed the prospective excitement of a conflagration
+against the comforts of the warm bed. In the end the fire offered
+greater inducements, and he leaped out of bed, lighted the gas, and
+tumbled into his clothes. And all the time the fire-bell clanged
+and clashed on the March wind. Leaving Two Spot to the undisputed
+possession of the bed, Allan left the house and looked expectantly
+about him. But there was no glow in the sky in any quarter; darkness
+reigned everywhere save about the infrequent street lamps. Here and
+there persons were running toward the fire-house, and Allan followed
+their example.
+
+Down Main Street he hurried, entered the yard back of the library,
+and cut across in the face of the buffeting wind to the beginning of
+Town Lane. When he reached Elm Street he was part of a steady stream
+of excited citizens and students, all hurrying anxiously toward where,
+half-way down the narrow thoroughfare, the brazen alarum was pealing
+deafeningly forth. And then, for the first time since he had awoke,
+Allan recollected Pete and his mysterious observation regarding fire.
+And instantly he knew that Pete and the fire-bell were in some way
+working mischief together.
+
+Pete's rooms were in the building at the corner of Center Street,
+and next door stood the fire-house, a plain two-storied building,
+surmounted by a twenty-foot tower, at the top of which hung the bell.
+When Allan reached the scene the windows of Pete's front room were
+brilliantly illumined, and from one of them hung Pete, exchanging
+lively salutations with friends in the throng below.
+
+For a moment Allan's suspicions were deadened. In front of the
+fire-house the crowd jostled and craned their necks as they stared
+wonderingly upward to where the tower showed indistinctly against
+the midnight sky. On every hand were heard bewildered ejaculations,
+while members of the volunteer fire department ran hither and thither,
+questioning, suggesting, and plainly distracted. The big doors were
+open and inside the engine and hose-cart, horses in harness, were ready
+to sally forth the instant any one discovered where the fire was or
+why the bell clanged on and on without apparent reason. Through a hole
+in the ceiling a big rope descended, and at every clang of the bell it
+rose and fell again, and the building shook with the jar.
+
+"Hello, Allan! Isn't this great?" shouted a voice in his ear, and Allan
+turned to find Hal, arrayed principally in a plaid dressing-gown and
+white duck cricket hat, grinning from ear to ear.
+
+"But--but what is it?" asked Allan, bewildered.
+
+"Don't know; nobody knows. There's the bell and there's the rope; no
+one's pulling it; must be spooks! Isn't it jolly?" And Hal leaped with
+delight and thumped Allan on the back.
+
+"But why does the bell ring?" he asked, following the general example
+and staring upward at the tower.
+
+"That's it! Why does it? Some say it's the wind, but that's poppycock,
+you know. What I think is that some one's got a rope hitched to the
+bell and is pulling it from the back of the building somewhere; that's
+what I think."
+
+"But haven't they been around there to see?"
+
+"Yes, but they're so excited and fussed they wouldn't know a rope if
+they fell over it. Some one's having a lark, you can bet on that. Isn't
+it a picnic? Just hear the old bell! Wow! Listen to that!"
+
+Allan put his mouth to Hal's ear and whispered a single word. Hal
+started, shot a glance at Pete's window and Pete himself, and burst
+into a gale of laughter.
+
+"D-d-do you think so?" he gasped. "But--how could he? Look, there he is
+at the window. O Pete!"
+
+"Hush up!" whispered Allan. "They'll get onto it. Look, they've got a
+ladder! They'll find out what's up now, all right, because the rope
+will be hanging. We ought to warn Pete; come on!"
+
+They wormed their way through the crowd, exchanging shouts of
+salutation with acquaintances as they went, until they were under
+Pete's window. There they found Tommy, note-book in hand, looking very
+important and excited.
+
+"O Pete!" shouted Allan. "Is your door unlocked?"
+
+"Hello, partner!" returned Pete in a happy bellow. "Isn't this great?
+Here I sit at my parlor window and watch all the wealth, beauty and
+fashion of our charming metropolis. And, say, ain't the racket fine?
+This is more noise than I've heard since a dynamite blast went off
+behind my back! Why, it's almost like living in a city! Say, if you
+fellows----"
+
+"We want to come up," shouted Allan. "Unlock your door."
+
+Pete shook his head.
+
+"Not on your life, partner; I've only got my nightie on. Want me to
+freeze to death?"
+
+"Well, put something on," said Allan anxiously, "and come down."
+
+"'Fraid of catching cold. Besides, I must turn in now; I'm losing my
+beauty sleep."
+
+"But--but, Pete, they're--they're putting up a ladder!" blurted Allan.
+
+"Are they?" asked Pete imperturbably. "Well, I'm not coming down to
+help 'em. They'll have to get on without me, my boy. Hello, Hal, that
+you? Ain't this wano? Such a cheerful----"
+
+Pete's roar stopped suddenly, as did the noise of the crowd. Two
+firemen half-way up the ladder at the front of the building nearly fell
+off. For a sudden appalling silence gave place to the uproar! The bell
+was still!
+
+After a moment of startled surprise--for at first the silence seemed
+louder than the noise--every one broke into incoherent laughter and
+ejaculations. The men on the ladder paused, undecided, and finally slid
+back to earth to hold a consultation.
+
+"Well, ain't that a shame!" lamented Pete. "Just when I was beginning
+to get sleepy! Now I'm all woke up again. Say, you chaps, wait a bit
+and I'll slip something on and let you up." He disappeared from the
+window and was gone some time. Then the key scraped in the door at the
+foot of the stairs and Allan, Hal, and Tommy slipped through. Pete,
+standing guard, locked the portal in the faces of several undesired
+fellows and followed them up-stairs.
+
+As Allan entered the room he glanced eagerly around. Just what he
+expected to find would have been hard to say, but whatever it was he
+didn't find it. The room presented its usual appearance, save that
+articles of apparel lay scattered widely about just wherever Pete had
+happened to be when they came off. Pete locked the room door, took his
+pipe from the table and proceeded to fill it. The others looked about
+the room, looked at each other and looked at Pete. Pete scratched a
+match, lighted his corn-cob and smiled easily back. Allan sank into the
+easy chair.
+
+"How--how did you do it?" he gasped.
+
+"Do it? Do what?" asked Pete, blowing a cloud of smoke toward the open
+window. Outside sounds told of the dispersing of the throng.
+
+"You know what," said Allan.
+
+Pete went to the window, called good night to an acquaintance, closed
+the sash and ambled back, smiling enjoyably.
+
+"Wasn't it moocha wano?" he asked. "Just answer me that, Allan. Did
+anything ever go off more beautifully, with more--er--_eclat_, as we
+say in Paree? Is your Uncle Pete the boss, all-star bell-ringer? Did
+you get on to the expression, the--the phrasing? Did you----"
+
+"Shut up, Pete," said Hal, grinning. "Tell us about it. Go on, like a
+good chap."
+
+"There's little to tell," said Pete with becoming modesty. "Up
+there"--he pointed toward the ceiling--"is a loft. Over there is a
+bell. Bring a rope from the bell into the back window of the loft,
+down-stairs and through that door and--there you are! Quite simple."
+
+"But, look here," piped up Tommy. "You were at the window when the bell
+was doing its stunts. How--how was that?"
+
+"Simple, too," answered Pete, waving aside a cloud of smoke. "There was
+a noose in the end of the rope and the noose fitted over my knee as I
+kneeled on the floor. It was hard work and I guess the hide's about
+wore off, but it was all for the sake of Art."
+
+The three deluged him with questions simultaneously, and Pete, sitting
+nonchalantly on the edge of the table, answered them as best he could.
+
+"But how about the rope?" asked Allan finally. "They'll see it and
+trace it through the window."
+
+"Oh, no, they won't, because, my boy, it isn't there any longer. When
+I said I'd put something on and let you fellows in, I cut it off at
+the foot of the tower and brought my end of it away. They'll find a
+rope there, all right, but they'll never guess it went through the back
+window. Besides, I can prove an alibi," he ended, with a generous and
+virtuous smile.
+
+"That's so," answered Tommy. "We saw you at the window."
+
+"When the bell was ringing," added Hal.
+
+"And I saw both his hands," supplemented Allan.
+
+"Yes, I meant you should," said Pete. Going to the trunk he took from
+behind it the lariat which usually hung on the wall, and from one end
+of it detached a few feet of hemp rope. This he put into the stove. The
+lariat he replaced upon the wall.
+
+"Thus we destroy all evidences of guilt," he said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+PETE PUTS THE SHOT
+
+
+For a few days following the mysterious serenade on the fire-bell
+there was an epidemic of mild colds throughout the college; and as
+each fellow who had a cold was able and eager to tell--through his
+nose--what had happened at the fire-house, it would seem that there
+might have been some connection between the affliction and the midnight
+occurrence. But no serious illness resulted, and so we may leniently
+assert that no harm came of Pete's joke.
+
+Not that any one knew it was Pete's joke, save the quartet and one
+other. The one other was Mr. Guild, out at Hillcrest. When morning
+came the severed rope hung in plain sight from the bell tower, and
+although it told clearly what had happened, yet it threw no light
+on the identity of the culprit. Of course every one--townfolk
+especially--declared it to have been a student prank, but none
+suspected Pete Burley, for it apparently entered no one's head that
+the bell might have been rung from Pete's room. The perpetrator was
+popularly believed to have been hidden in some near-by yard.
+
+That Pete's innocence was never questioned was a lucky thing for Pete,
+because the faculty would have viewed the affair in the light of a last
+straw, and Pete's connection with Erskine College would have ceased
+then and there. As it was, the affair remained forever a mystery.
+
+Mr. Guild heard the story a few days later, when the quartet drove out
+to Hillcrest in a rattle-trap carryall and spent the afternoon. This
+was the second visit the fellows had made to the owner of the ducks
+since the beginning of the term. Mr. and Mrs. Guild had been in the
+South for two months, and after their return, in February, the snow had
+made the roads almost impassable. Hal and Tommy had been introduced on
+the occasion of the previous visit and had been cordially welcomed. Mr.
+Guild enjoyed the story of the bell-ringing and laughed heartily over
+it.
+
+"That's a better joke, Burley," he said, "than that drowning business
+of yours. That was a trifle too grim to be wholly humorous. And when I
+remember the way I had the river dragged for your lifeless body, and
+expected to see it every time the men drew the grapples up, I--well, I
+hope your dinner the other night choked you."
+
+But it hadn't. The dinner had passed off very successfully, and save
+that Hal had partaken of too much pie and had sat up in bed until
+three o'clock in the morning well doubled over, it had been an affair
+worthy of being long remembered. Even Pete, who claimed the right to be
+severely critical, had found nothing to find fault with, save, perhaps,
+the fact that in winning the banquet he had unwittingly provided the
+money to pay for it!
+
+The second week in March witnessed the return of the track team
+candidates to practise in the gymnasium. Spring was unusually late
+that year--perhaps you recollect the fact?--and several feet of snow
+hid the ground until well toward the last of March. But meanwhile
+the candidates, thirty-eight in number, were divided into two squads
+and were daily put through chest-weight and dumb-bell exercises and
+sent careening around the running track. Allan, who since his failure
+to "make good"--in the language of the undergraduate--had been
+somewhat disgusted and down in the mouth, with the return to practise
+experienced a renewal of faith in himself and his abilities. Billy
+Kernahan laughed at his pessimistic utterances and assured him that
+outdoor work would do wonders for him.
+
+Meanwhile Hal was hard at work with the freshman baseball squad and was
+turning out to be something of a "star" at the bat. Tommy, who during
+the winter months had found much difficulty in keeping himself busy,
+was as happy as a lark, since the awakening activity in athletics,
+the class debates and the final debate with Robinson afforded him
+opportunities to perform wonderful feats of reporting and gave him
+almost as much work to do as even he could desire.
+
+Pete was left forlorn. Of the quartet he alone had no interest in life
+save study; and without wishing to be hard on Pete, I am nevertheless
+constrained to say that in his case study as an interest was something
+of a failure. He managed to stand fairly well in class, but this
+was due rather to an excellent memory than to any feats of severe
+application. When, toward the last of March, the baseball men and the
+track team went outdoors, he was more deserted than ever. Hal and Allan
+were inaccessible to him save in the evenings, and even then insisted
+on studying. As for Tommy----
+
+"You might as well try to put your thumb on a flea as to try and locate
+Tommy," he growled aggrievedly. "I tried to meet up with him on Monday,
+and the best I could do was to find out where he had been last seen on
+Saturday. I haven't caught up with him yet, by ginger!"
+
+"Why don't you go in for something?" asked Hal. "Try baseball."
+
+"Baseball!" grunted Pete. "What do I know about baseball? It would take
+me a month to learn the rudiments of the game. I'll go out for spring
+football practise next month, but that only lasts a couple of weeks,
+they say, and after that I guess I'll pack up and go home."
+
+"Try golf," said Allan, with a wicked smile. Pete snorted.
+
+"I'd look well hitting a little ball with a crooked stick, wouldn't I?"
+he asked disgustedly. "No; I may be a blamed fool, but I know better
+than to make such a show of myself as that."
+
+In the end Pete found an interest, and the manner of it was strange. It
+happened in this wise.
+
+It was a few days before the class games. If his friends would not come
+to him, Pete could, at least, go to his friends. And so he had got into
+the way of walking out to the field in the afternoon and watching Hal
+on the diamond or Allan on the track. Sometimes he had a word or two
+with them; but at all events it was better, he thought, than moping
+about the college. The scene was a lively and, when the weather was
+bright, a pretty one. To-day the sky was almost cloudless, the sun
+shone warmly and there was a quality to the air that made one want to
+do great things, but yet left one content to do nothing.
+
+When Pete approached the field he saw that the varsity and freshman
+baseball teams were both at practise, that the lacrosse candidates--whose
+antics always amused him--were racing madly about at the far corner of
+the enclosure, and that the track men were on hand in force. The scene
+was full of life and color and sound. Pete broke into song:
+
+    Sam Bass was born in Indiana, it was his native home,
+    And at the age of seventeen young Sam began to roam;
+    He hit the trail for Texas a cowboy for to be,
+    And a kinder-hearted feller you'd never hope to see.
+
+Pete's voice was untrained but hearty. Had the tune been more melodious
+the effect would possibly have been more pleasing. As it was, the
+adventures of Sam Bass were chanted--as they always have been where
+Pete came from--in a melancholy reiteration of some half-dozen notes
+that threatened in the course of time to become terribly monotonous.
+
+    Sam used to own a thoroughbred known as the Denton mare;
+    He matched her in scrub races and took her to the fair.
+    He always coined the money and spent----
+
+The song died away to a low rumble as Pete stooped and picked up
+a battered sphere of lead which lay on the sod before him. It was
+surprisingly heavy and he wondered what it was. Then his gaze fell on
+a lime-marked circle a few yards away, and it dawned upon him that the
+thing he held was a sixteen-pound shot, such as he had seen the fellows
+throw. Near-by the sod was dented and torn where the weight had
+struck. Pete hefted the thing in one hand and then the other. Then he
+raised it head-high and threw it toward the circle. It narrowly missed
+smashing the stop-board. Pete took up his song once more:
+
+    He started for the Collins ranch, it was the month of May,
+    With a herd of Texas cattle, the Black Hills for to see.
+
+He picked up the shot again and looked about him. There was nobody
+near, and of those at a distance none was paying him any attention. So
+he laid his pipe on the ground, balanced the shot in his right hand,
+stepped to the front of the circle and sent it through the air. It
+described a good deal of an arc and came down about eight paces away.
+Pete was sure he could beat that, so he strolled over and recovered
+the weight, and, humming lugubriously the while, strolled back and
+tried it over again. This time it went a few feet farther and Pete was
+encouraged. He took off his coat and rolled his sleeves up, spat on his
+hands and seized that lump of lead with determination.
+
+Up near the finish of the mile, by the side of the track, Allan was in
+conversation with Kernahan. Suddenly he stopped, smiled, and pointed
+down the field.
+
+"For goodness' sake," he exclaimed, "look at Pete Burley trying to put
+the shot!"
+
+Billy turned and watched. When the shot had landed, he asked:
+
+"Has he ever tried that before?"
+
+"No, indeed; Pete's stunt is football." Kernahan smiled.
+
+"Sure. I remember him now. Well, you try a few sprints of thirty yards
+or so, and I guess that'll do for to-day. That stride's coming along
+all right; don't be in too big a hurry. To-morrow do a slow mile and a
+few starts. Then you'd better knock off until the meeting."
+
+Allan nodded, turned and jogged away up the track. Billy strolled
+toward Pete. When he drew near his ears were greeted with a plaintive
+wail:
+
+    Sam Bass was born in Indiana, it was his native home,
+    And at the age of seventeen young Sam began to roam;
+    He hit the trail----
+
+Away sped the shot, and fell with a thud fully thirty feet distant.
+Pete grunted. Billy's face lighted. Pete wiped the perspiration from
+his brow with the back of one big hand and strolled after the shot.
+When he turned back he saw the trainer. He looked somewhat abashed and
+showed a disposition to drop the weight where he stood. But he thought
+better of it.
+
+"Taking a little exercise," he explained, carelessly.
+
+Billy nodded.
+
+"Good idea," he said. "Don't throw it, but push it right away from you
+as though you were punching some one. You get it too high."
+
+"Oh, I was just fooling with it," said Pete.
+
+"I know; but you try it, and don't let it go so high."
+
+The first attempt was a dismal failure, the shot scarcely covering
+twenty feet. Billy's presence embarrassed the performer.
+
+"Try it again," said Billy. Pete hesitated. Then,
+
+"All right," he said, cheerfully.
+
+This time he did better than ever, and Billy paced off the distance.
+
+"About thirty-two feet," he announced. "That'll do for to-day."
+
+"Huh?" said Pete.
+
+"That's enough for this time. You don't want to lame your muscles, if
+you haven't done it already."
+
+"Oh, my muscles will stand it," answered Pete. "Do 'em good to get
+lame, I guess." But Billy shook his head.
+
+"No, that won't do. You leave off now and report to me to-morrow at
+four-thirty."
+
+"What for?" asked Pete, in surprise.
+
+"For practise. We'll try you in the meet next Friday."
+
+"No, I guess not," said Pete, shaking his head. "If you had a roping
+contest I might try my hand, but these athletic stunts have me beat."
+
+"Never mind about that," answered the trainer, "you do as I say. We
+need you, and we're going to have you. Four-thirty, remember; and you'd
+better get some togs."
+
+He nodded and walked away. Pete, staring after him, expressed his
+surprise by a long whistle.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+TRACK AND FIELD
+
+
+The class games were notable that spring merely because they
+brought into sudden prominence a new and promising candidate in the
+shot-putting event, one Peter Burley, '07, of Blackwater, Colo. To be
+sure, Pete didn't break any records, nor did he come out first, but he
+contributed one point to the scant sum of the freshman class total by
+taking third place with a put of thirty-nine feet, four and one-half
+inches. Pete's appearance in athletic circles was a surprise to the
+college at large, and those who remembered his prowess at football
+and took his size and apparent strength into consideration jumped
+to the conclusion that here was a "dark horse" that was going to
+carry everything before him and break the college record into minute
+particles. Personally, Pete viewed his participation as a good joke,
+but he wasn't quite certain whom the joke was on.
+
+It was evident that he had it in him to become a first-rate man at
+the weights, and Kernahan viewed his "find" with much satisfaction.
+Erskine had for two years past been rather weak in that line of
+athletics, and Billy had visions of developing the big Westerner into
+a phenomenal shot-putter and hammer-thrower; though, for the present,
+at least, he said nothing to Pete about the hammer, for fear the latter
+would mutiny. Pete had had only three days of practise under Billy's
+instruction prior to the class games, but in that time he had mastered
+one or two of the principal points and had thereby added seven feet to
+his best performance of Monday.
+
+Billy was more than satisfied, the rival shot men, who had viewed
+Pete's appearance among them at first with amused indifference, were
+worried, and Pete was-- But truly it is hard to say what Pete was. The
+whole thing was something of a joke to him, and possibly mild amusement
+was his principal sensation, although he was probably glad to be able
+to please the trainer, who had taken a good deal of trouble with him,
+and to add a point to the tally of his class.
+
+But after the class games amusement gave place to surprise and dismay,
+for Billy informed him that the spring meeting would take place a week
+later, and that by diligent practise meanwhile he ought to be able to
+add another two feet to his record. Pete had been laboring under the
+impression that his troubles were over with the class games, and he
+promptly rebelled. But rebellion didn't work with Billy; he was used
+to it. He had a method of getting his own way in things that was a
+marvel of quiet effectiveness; and so Pete concluded when, on the next
+Monday, he was once more out on the field "tossing the cannon ball," as
+he sarcastically called it.
+
+All that week, up to the very morning of the spring track meeting, he
+stood daily in the seven-foot circle and practised with the shot, while
+Kernahan patiently coached him. Pete had the height, build and strength
+for the work, but it was the hardest kind of a task for him to grasp
+the subtleties of the hop and the change of feet. I am inclined to
+think that Billy's oft-repeated explanations went for little, and that
+in the end--but this was not until he had been at practise for almost a
+month--he learned the tricks himself by constant experimenting.
+
+The actual putting was very soon mastered, but for weeks Pete's best
+efforts were spoiled because he either overstepped the ring or left
+himself too far from the front of it. But when the spring meeting came
+he climbed to second place, Monroe alone keeping ahead of him. The
+latter's best put was forty-three feet ten inches, and Pete's forty-one
+feet three inches.
+
+Monroe seemed to Pete to view the latter's efforts as beneath notice,
+and Pete resented that from the first. As was to be expected by any
+one knowing Pete, Monroe's attitude was accepted as a challenge, and
+Pete vowed he would beat the college crack if he had to work all night
+to do it. From that time on Billy found no necessity for pleading; Pete
+was always on hand when half past four came around, and none was more
+earnest than he, none worked so hard. Pete had found his interest.
+
+Meanwhile Allan had done fairly well in both meets. In the class games
+he had entered for the two miles and the mile, had won the first by a
+bare yard from Rindgely and in the latter had finished third behind
+Hooker and Harris. At Billy's advice he relinquished the mile event
+thereafter and became a two-miler pure and simple. As Billy pointed
+out, either Rindgely or Hooker--and possibly Harris, who was coming on
+fast--was capable of beating Robinson at the mile, and it was better
+for Allan to put all efforts into the two miles, in which, so far as
+was known, Robinson at present excelled. Allan had hard luck at the
+spring meeting, getting away badly in the first place and taking a
+tumble in the next to the last lap that put him out of the race so
+far as the places were concerned. Conroy staggered in ten yards ahead
+of Rindgely, Harris securing third place, and Allan finishing a poor
+fourth.
+
+By this time the training table was started, and Pete, much to his
+delight, temporarily deserted the freshman club table up-stairs and
+moved to the first-floor front room, where Allan, Rindgely, Hooker,
+Harris, Conroy, Stearns, Thatcher, Poor, Leroy, Monroe, Long, and
+several others whose names we have not heard, were congregated under
+the vigilant eyes of Billy Kernahan. I don't think Pete was properly
+impressed with the honor conferred upon him by his admission to the
+training table, but he was glad to be with Allan again and rather
+enjoyed the novelty of having his meals arranged for him. If it had not
+been that training required the relinquishment of his beloved corn-cob
+pipe, I think Pete in those days would have been perfectly happy.
+
+Meanwhile, at another training table farther around the bend of Elm
+Street, Hal was one of the stars of the freshman nine. Of the quartet,
+Tommy only was not head over ears in athletics, but the fact didn't
+trouble him a scrap. He had all he could do--and a trifle more--and
+was laboring, besides, under the harmless delusion that the college's
+success on diamond, track, and river depended largely upon his
+supervision and advice. Whenever he had time, which wasn't very often,
+he delighted to stand beside the lime-marked ring and offer gems of
+instruction in the art of putting the shot to Pete. And Pete, who was
+miserable without companionship, stood it smilingly for the sake of
+Tommy's presence. In the evenings Tommy frequently found a moment or
+two in which to look up Allan or Hal and give them the benefit of his
+advice regarding playing second base or running the two miles. But
+those young gentlemen exhibited a strange and lamentable impatience,
+and Tommy quite often left their presence under compulsion or just
+ahead of a flying boot.
+
+Meanwhile the spring vacation came and went. Of the quartet, Hal and
+Tommy went home, and Allan and Pete stayed at college, Allan from
+motives of economy and Pete because nothing better offered.
+
+After recess baseball held the boards and the varsity team was half-way
+through its schedule by the first week in May, and had but two defeats
+behind it. On the track the candidates were put through their paces
+six days a week. Erskine was almost sure of victories in the sprints,
+equally certain of defeats in the middle distances, expected to win the
+mile, was in grave doubt as to the two miles, and hoped to share the
+hurdles with her opponent. In the field events, the high jump alone was
+certain to yield a first to the Purple. The pole vault, broad jump, and
+both weight events were of doubtful outcome. As Tommy figured it out
+in the columns of "his" paper about this time, Erskine had a chance of
+winning by seven points. But as second and third places were almost
+impossible to apportion with any accuracy, this forecast was not of
+much value. The dual games with Robinson came on May 28th. A fortnight
+before that Allan's work was stretched over six days, as follows:
+
+Monday, a two-mile run at an easy pace.
+
+Tuesday, a fast mile, followed by an easy three-quarters.
+
+Wednesday, a hard, fast mile.
+
+Thursday, two miles and a half in easy time.
+
+Friday, a mile and a half at medium speed.
+
+Saturday, a time trial over the two miles.
+
+This was hard work and lots of it, but Allan's physical condition
+could scarcely have been bettered, and never, from the beginning of
+outdoor practise until the big event was over with, did he go "fine"
+for a moment. Twelve days before the meet Allan had his last trial, and
+when, still running strongly, he crossed the finish line, Billy's watch
+clicked at 9:53-5/8.
+
+Billy smiled cheerfully enough, but down in his heart he was
+disappointed. He had expected better things.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+SUNSHINE AND SHADOW
+
+
+I have never found any one with sufficient courage to defend the
+winters at Centerport. At the best they are bearable, at the worst they
+are beyond description. Nothing any one might say would be too harsh to
+apply to what the residents call "a hard winter."
+
+In short, from January to April the weather is everything detestable,
+and reminds one of a very bad little boy who has made up his very bad
+little mind to be as very bad as he possibly can.
+
+And then--as like as not between a sunset and a sunrise--spring
+appears, and it is just as though the very bad little boy had grown
+sorry and repentant and had made up his mind to be very, very good
+and sweet and kind, and never do anything to grieve his dear, _dear_
+parents any more. And there is a soft, warm breeze blowing up the river
+valley, the grass on the southern side of the library is unmistakably
+green, a bluebird, or maybe a valiant robin, is singing from a branch
+of the big elm at the corner of the chapel, and there is a strong,
+heartening aroma of moist earth in your nostrils. And you know that
+from thenceforth until you leave the old green town the last of June
+your lines are cast in pleasant places and that it is going to be very
+easy to be happy and good.
+
+Well, I suppose there are other places where spring is superlatively
+pleasant, where the trees and sod are extravagantly green, and where
+youth finds life so well worth living. Only--I have never found them.
+And I doubt if there is an old Erskine man the country over who can
+recollect the month of May at Centerport without a little catch of the
+breath and a sudden lighting of the eye.
+
+For in those Mays his memory recalls Main Street and the yard were
+canopied with a swaying lacework of whispering elm branches, through
+which the sunlight dripped in golden globules and splashed upon the
+soft, velvety sod or moist gravel and spread itself in limpid pools.
+And the ivy was newly green against the old red brick buildings, the
+fence below College Place was lined with fellows you knew, and the
+slow-moving old blue watering-cart trundled by with a soft and pleasant
+sound of splashing water. Fellows called gaily to you as you crossed
+the yard, the muslin curtains at the windows of Morris and Sesson were
+a-flutter in the morning breeze, and from Elm Street floated the
+musical and monotonous chime of the scissor-grinder's bells. What if
+the Finals were close at hand? The sky was blue overhead, the spring
+air was kind and--you were young!
+
+I think something of this occurred to Allan when, at a quarter of ten
+on a mild, bright morning three days before the dual meet, he crossed
+the street from his room, books under arm, and turned into College
+Place.
+
+Perched on the fence in front of the chapel were Clarke Mason, the
+editor of the Purple, and Stearns, the track team captain. After
+exchanging greetings, Allan dropped his books back of the fence and
+swung himself onto the top rail.
+
+The sun was pleasant, the ten o'clock bell would not ring for several
+minutes, and there was an invitation in the way in which Mason edged
+away from the post. Allan was a warm admirer of Mason, and the fact
+that, as was natural, he seldom had an opportunity to speak with him
+made him glad of the present opportunity. There was but one topic of
+overwhelming interest at present, and that was the track and field meet
+with Robinson. With two successive defeats against them, and the added
+result of the last football game still in memory, it is not strange
+that Erskine men had set their hearts on administering a trouncing to
+the Brown and regaining something of their old athletic prestige. The
+boat race and the baseball contests were too far distant for present
+consideration.
+
+"I don't know when there's been so much enthusiasm over the athletic
+meet as there is this year," said Mason. "And it's bound to tell, too.
+I've noticed that when the college as a whole wakes up and wants a
+thing it generally comes pretty near getting it."
+
+"We wanted the football game badly enough," said Stearns.
+
+"Yes, just as we want all of them, but there wasn't the enthusiasm
+there has been some years. I think we expected to win, and so didn't
+get much wrought up over it. But next year--although you and I won't
+be here to see it, Walt--I'll bet the college will be red-headed over
+football; there'll be mass-meetings and the band up from Hastings, and
+Ware here will be marching out to the field singing 'Glory, Glory for
+the Purple' at the top of his lungs. And the team will just naturally
+go in and win."
+
+"At that rate," ventured Allan, "we ought to lick Robinson on Saturday,
+for, as you say, the fellows are all worked up over it."
+
+"I think we're going to," answered Mason, with quiet conviction. "But,
+of course, I don't know so much about it as Walt here, and he says I'm
+off my reckoning."
+
+Allan looked at the captain with surprise. All along Stearns had
+displayed a confidence that, in Allan's case at least, had been a great
+incentive to hard work. Stearns frowned a little as he answered:
+
+"Oh, well, maybe to-morrow I'll be hopeful again. A fellow can't help
+having a spell of nerves now and then, you know."
+
+"Well, if it's only that, we'll forgive you," Mason replied. "I thought
+maybe something had happened. Things have a way of happening, I've
+noticed, just before a meet; Jones lames his ankle, Brown is put on
+probation, Smith is protested, or something else unforeseen plays
+havoc."
+
+"That's so," said Stearns, emphatically, "and maybe one reason I feel
+uneasy is because nothing _has_ happened; Robinson hasn't protested any
+one and no one has sprained his ankle or got water on the knee. I think
+I'd feel safer if something of the sort had occurred."
+
+"Well, I guess you're safe now," laughed Mason. "The men have quit
+practise and Robinson's opportunity for protesting our best men has
+passed."
+
+"I don't know," said Stearns, doubtfully. "Something will turn up, you
+see if it doesn't."
+
+"Nonsense! How about you, Ware? Going to win the two miles?"
+
+"I'm scared to think about it," answered Allan, uneasily. "That
+Robinson crack can do better than I've succeeded in doing yet, and so I
+guess I'll have to be satisfied with second place."
+
+"Oh, Ware's all right," said Stearns, encouragingly. "He's going to
+present us with five points, and we'll need 'em!"
+
+This sounded more like the Stearns Allan was accustomed to.
+
+"They tell me that chum of yours, Burley, is going to do great things
+with the shot, Ware," said Mason, questioningly.
+
+"I hope so," Allan answered. "He can, all right; the only thing is
+whether he will get fussed and forget how; he's funny that way."
+
+"Well, Billy thinks he's a wonder, and says that by next year he'll
+be able to give a foot to the best college man in the country. Well,
+there's the bell. I hate to waste a day like this indoors, but--needs
+must when the faculty drives!"
+
+The trio slipped off the fence and went their separate ways, but before
+they parted Stearns drew Allan aside.
+
+"I say, Ware," he said, "don't say anything to any one about what--what
+you've heard. There's no use in discouraging them, you know, and what
+I just said doesn't amount to anything; I guess I'm feeling a bit
+nervous. You understand?"
+
+But Allan, as he crossed the yard to College Hall, in the tower of
+which the bell was clanging its imperative summons, couldn't help
+feeling apprehensive and worried. It was so unlike Stearns to admit
+even the possibility of defeat. On the steps Allan ran against Pete,
+big, smiling, and serenely satisfied with life.
+
+"How'd you get on yesterday?" asked Allan, as they went in together.
+
+"Oh, pretty middlin'," said Pete, cheerfully. "I got within four inches
+of that cayuse of a Monroe."
+
+"But you'll have to beat him if you expect to win over Robinson," said
+Allan, anxiously.
+
+"Oh, I'm not bothering about Robinson," answered Pete. "If I can do up
+Monroe, that's all I give a hang about!"
+
+The next afternoon, Thursday, Stearns appeared at Allan's room, looking
+excessively cheerful.
+
+"Hello!" he said, as he sat down. "How are things?"
+
+"All right," answered the other, wondering at the track captain's
+errand. "How about you?"
+
+"Fine as silk," he said. "Say, Ware, Robinson has sent a foolish
+letter, and asks the committee to look up your record. Of course," he
+went on, carelessly and hurriedly, "it's all poppycock, but they think
+they have a case, and so maybe you'd better walk over with me and see
+Nast about it; just explain things so he can write back to 'em, you
+know. Are you busy?"
+
+Allan, bewildered and dismayed, looked across at Stearns with wide eyes
+and sinking heart. The track team captain's forebodings of yesterday
+flashed into memory, and it was with a very weak voice that he asked
+finally:
+
+"You mean that--that Robinson has protested me?"
+
+Stearns laughed carelessly, but something in the other's tone sent a
+qualm of uneasiness to his heart.
+
+"Oh, there's no question of a protest," he answered, "because the time
+for protests has gone by. But, of course, they knew the committee would
+investigate the matter, and that if everything wasn't all right they
+wouldn't allow you to run. But, of course, as I say, it's all nonsense.
+They say you were entered in the mile run at the St. Thomas Club Meet,
+in Brooklyn, during vacation, and came in third. And--and there's a
+silly newspaper clipping with your name in it. But, as I told Nast, you
+can explain that all right, I guess. Fact is, you know," he continued,
+with a little annoyed laugh, "you've got to; we can't afford to lose
+you, Ware."
+
+Allan took his cap from the desk.
+
+"Come on," he said, quietly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+A NEWSPAPER PARAGRAPH
+
+
+During the short walk across the yard little was said. Stearns now
+and then shot puzzled and anxious glances at Allan's face, but the
+latter looked straight ahead of him, and Stearns learned nothing. In
+the office Professor Nast approached the subject at once. The Robinson
+authorities, he stated, had written, saying that Ware had won third
+prize in the mile event at an indoor meet of the St. Thomas Club,
+in Brooklyn, on the evening of December 26th, and in support of the
+contention enclosed a clipping from a newspaper. The clipping was
+handed to Allan, and he read, opposite a big blue pencil mark:
+
+"Mile run--Won by E. C. Scheur, N. Y. C. C. A. (45 yds.); second, T.
+Webb, St. T. A. A. (45 yds.); third, A. Ware, E. A. A. (50 yds.).
+Time--4m. 47s."
+
+Allan returned the clipping calmly.
+
+"You understand," said the professor, gently, "that the mere fact
+of your having entered this meeting without permission would not of
+itself render you ineligible on Saturday. The trouble is that the
+meeting"--here he tapped the newspaper clipping with his pencil--"was
+not an amateur affair; the prizes were purses of money, and, being an
+'open' meeting, there were, as you may see, a number of professionals
+participating. That--er--is the difficulty."
+
+"I know nothing about it," said Allan, quietly.
+
+Stearns sank back in his chair with a long sigh of relief. "I told you
+it was all nonsense!" he exclaimed. The professor himself looked well
+pleased.
+
+"I did not run in that meeting," continued Allan. "I have been in
+Brooklyn but once, and that was fully six years ago."
+
+"I am very glad to hear it," said the professor, "very glad. Now,
+while I am not in duty bound to explain the matter to the Robinson
+authorities, yet it is better for various reasons to do so. And there
+is one thing--" He paused and tapped the desk frowningly. "About this
+clipping?" he asked. Allan shook his head.
+
+"I'm afraid I can't explain that. Perhaps there's another 'A. Ware' and
+perhaps 'E. A. A.' stands for something else besides Erskine Athletic
+Association."
+
+"Stands for lots of things, probably," said Stearns, a bit impatiently.
+
+"We might find that out," mused the professor. "Where were you, Ware,
+that evening, the--ah--yes, the twenty-sixth of December?"
+
+"I was in New York, visiting my aunt on Seventy-third Street. I was in
+the house all the evening, except for about half an hour, when I went
+out on an errand."
+
+"Well, you couldn't have crossed the river to Brooklyn, run a mile race
+and returned home in half an hour," said the professor, lightly. "Now,
+will you get your aunt to write me a letter, stating those facts and
+assuring me that you were not and could not have been in Brooklyn? It
+is not, you understand, that I doubt your word, Ware, but I have my
+duties in these affairs and I must perform them. Simply a letter, you
+understand, will suffice."
+
+"I will do my best," Allan replied; "but----"
+
+"Eh?" shouted Stearns.
+
+"But my aunt has left New York city and is traveling in the West,
+probably in California now. I shall have to find her address from my
+mother first, and by that time----"
+
+"Now, look here, sir," interrupted Stearns. "Surely Ware's word of
+honor is enough in a case of this sort? It's only a--a coincidence of
+names, sir."
+
+"For my own satisfaction Mr. Ware's word is sufficient," replied the
+chairman, with dignity, "but the rules require evidence, and I must
+have it. I only ask Mr. Ware to supply me with a statement from some
+person who knows of his whereabouts on the evening in question.
+Perhaps there is some other person who will do as well?" But Allan
+shook his head.
+
+"No, sir, I'm afraid not. My aunt lives alone except for the servants,
+and I saw no one I knew that evening. I will telegraph to my mother at
+once, and perhaps I will be able to get a letter from my aunt before
+Saturday. But it's a pretty short time."
+
+"Produce your evidence any time before the two-mile race is called,"
+said the chairman, kindly, "and it will be all right. And, by the way,
+a telegram will answer as well as a letter, if your--er--aunt is in the
+West. I am anxious to help you in every way possible, and I regret that
+the duties of my office require me to be or--er--seem exacting. Another
+thing, Ware; the Athletic Association will incur all the expenses of
+telegraphing in this affair; and you need not--ah--spare money. Good
+morning."
+
+"Oh, it will be all right," said Stearns, cheerfully, as they hurried
+together to the telegraph office. But Allan shook his head despondently.
+
+"No, I've felt ever since yesterday that something would happen to ball
+things up. And now it's happened. And I don't believe I'll hear from my
+aunt in time. However, I wouldn't have got better than second place,
+anyway. But I did want to run," he ended, dolorously.
+
+"Nonsense! Cheer up! We'll make the wires hum. We've got pretty near
+two whole days, and we can telegraph around the world fifty times in
+two days."
+
+The telegram asking for his aunt's address was duly despatched to his
+mother in New Haven, and after that there was nothing left to do save
+wait her reply. Allan parted from Stearns and went dejectedly back to
+his room. There he found Pete engaged in a carouse with Two Spot. They
+wouldn't let Pete practise with the shot to-day, or again before the
+meet, and he was feeling quite lost in consequence. Allan wanted some
+one to unfold his tale of woe to, and he was glad to find Pete awaiting
+him. Pete, as the story was told, grew very indignant, and offered to
+punch Professor Nast's head. But Allan finally convinced him that the
+chairman of the Athletic Committee wasn't at all to blame.
+
+"It's a beastly way to have things end, after you've been practising
+hard all spring," he said, as he arose impatiently from his chair and
+strolled to the desk. A Latin book was lying on the blotter, with
+a slip of paper marking the page where Allan had been at work when
+Stearns appeared. Now he opened the book, crumpled the marker into a
+ball and tossed it disgustedly onto the floor. Then he drew up a chair
+and plainly hinted that he desired to study. Pete, however, refused to
+heed the hint.
+
+"It's a mighty foolish business," he said, thoughtfully.
+
+Allan grunted.
+
+Two Spot had discovered the little ball of paper and was making believe
+that it was a mouse. She rolled it from under the couch with playful
+pawings and frantic rushes, and finally tossing it in the air, so that
+it fell at Pete's feet, she stopped, blinked at it and suddenly fell
+to washing her feet, as though too dignified to do aught else. Pete
+stooped absent-mindedly and picked up the bit of paper, unfolding it
+slowly and smoothing it across one huge knee.
+
+"Seems to me," he said presently, "you chaps have forgotten one thing."
+
+"What's that?" Allan asked, ungraciously.
+
+"To wire the St. Thomas Club people and ask them if you ran in their
+old meeting."
+
+"Well, that's so," said Allan, hopefully. "But, then, there was
+probably some one there named 'A. Ware,' and they'd just answer 'yes.'"
+
+"Ask 'em if Allan Ware, of Erskine, ran in the meeting, and, if he
+didn't, who the dickens the 'A. Ware' was who did run. Tell you've got
+to know in a hurry, and that it's blamed important."
+
+"By Jove!" exclaimed Allan, "that's a good idea. Funny we didn't think
+of it, wasn't it?"
+
+For answer Pete grunted, as though he didn't think it at all funny.
+
+"Hello, who's 'Horace L. Pearson, N. Y. A. C.'?" asked Pete, holding up
+the scrap of paper rescued from Two Spot, and which now proved to be
+torn from the program of the Boston indoor meeting.
+
+"I don't know; why?" asked Allan.
+
+"I used to know a fellow of that name out in Colorado. He was sort of
+studying mining. What does 'N. Y. A. C.' mean?"
+
+"New York Athletic Club. It's probably the same fellow. I remember him
+now. He was the chap that thought Rindgely was me."
+
+"Eh?" asked Pete. "How was that?"
+
+So Allan told him, and Pete grew very thoughtful as the short narrative
+progressed. When Allan had finished he asked:
+
+"I suppose these fellows that do stunts at the Boston meet go to pretty
+near all of them, don't they?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know; a good many, I guess. Why?"
+
+"Just wondering," answered Pete. "Come on and send that telegram. If
+you address it to the president or treasurer or something, it will do,
+won't it?"
+
+"I'll send it to the chairman of the Athletic Committee," said Allan,
+seizing his hat. "I'm glad you thought of it, Pete. You're some good in
+the world, after all, aren't you?"
+
+"Sure. See you this evening. I want to see Tommy. Where do you suppose
+I'll find him?"
+
+"Oh, come on down to the telegraph office."
+
+"Can't; I want Tommy."
+
+"Well, try the Purple office; maybe he's there. Don't forget to come
+around to-night. I may get an answer from my mother by that time."
+
+Pete was successful. To be sure, Tommy wasn't in the office of the
+Purple, but Pete hadn't supposed he would be; Tommy wasn't so easily
+caught. But by tracing him from one place to another, Pete at last came
+up with him in the library, where he was eagerly securing data for an
+article on rowing which he was preparing for a Boston Sunday paper.
+
+"You see," he explained, hurriedly, "I don't know very much about
+rowing, but it wouldn't do to say so, and so I come here and consult
+these gentlemen." He indicated the half-dozen volumes by which he was
+surrounded. "If I only wrote what I knew, you see, I'd never make any
+money."
+
+"Well, that's the first time I ever heard you acknowledge you didn't
+know it all, from throwing to tying," said Pete.
+
+"Oh, a fellow has to keep up a front," said Tommy, shrewdly, with a
+grin.
+
+Pete slipped into the next chair, and for the next quarter of an hour
+they whispered fast and furiously. When Pete got up, he said:
+
+"This isn't for publication in your old paper, Tommy, you know. And
+don't say anything about it to any one, will you?"
+
+And Tommy pledged himself to secrecy, adding:
+
+"And I think you've got it, Pete. Are you going to see him to-night?"
+
+"As soon as I can find him in his room," Pete replied.
+
+"Then I'll come around to Allan's to-night and hear what's happened."
+
+"Maybe I won't tell Allan," answered Pete. "Anyhow, not unless I have
+to. I'll see what the coyote has to say for himself."
+
+"Rindgely? Oh, he'll have plenty to say, all right. He'll talk himself
+blue in the face if you let him."
+
+"Maybe I won't let him," answered Pete, grimly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+THE FRESHMAN GAME
+
+
+    "Your aunt was in Los Angeles California Monday expected stay
+    week address Mission House. Is anything wrong?      MOTHER."
+
+This message Allan found awaiting him when he hurried home from dinner
+that evening. So far so good, he reflected. But Monday was three
+days gone, and if his aunt had changed her mind and gone on!--well,
+he didn't like to consider that contingency. Seating himself at his
+desk, he composed two messages, one to his aunt and one to the manager
+of the Mission House. In the latter he requested that his message to
+Miss Mary G. Merrill be forwarded to her, in case she had left the
+hotel. In the other message he finally expressed, at the expense of
+thirty-four words, what he wanted his aunt to do. Then he hurried again
+to the telegraph office and begged the emotionless operator to get both
+messages off at once. The operator nodded silently.
+
+"You haven't received any other message for me, have you?" asked
+Allan. The operator as silently shook his head. Allan wandered back
+to his room. Studying was a task this evening, and he was glad when
+Tommy demanded admittance. A few minutes later Pete, too, arrived,
+looking very satisfied with life. Allan did not notice the exchange of
+glances between the last comer and Tommy, and if he had he would not
+have understood them, nor would he have connected them with the matter
+uppermost in his thoughts. Tommy raised his eyebrows inquiringly and
+Pete nodded with a smile and mysteriously tapped the breast of his coat.
+
+Allan was full of his quandary and found much relief in telling
+everything to Tommy and exhibiting the telegrams received and
+copies of those sent. Pete, strange to say, and somewhat to Allan's
+disappointment, did not display the amount of interest in the subject
+which Allan thought he should have; and even Tommy seemed soon to tire
+of the matter. Allan fell into silence, reflecting pessimistically on
+the readiness of your friends to abandon your troubles. Pete and Tommy
+left early--Tommy had been on the point of leaving ever since his
+arrival--and with their parting injunctions to "cheer up" and "don't
+let it bother you" in his ears, Allan went sorrowfully to bed.
+
+The next day was Friday, and it dawned cloudy and chill. May has its
+moods, even in Centerport, but it was unfortunate that it should have
+displayed the fact to-day, for the gloominess of the weather increased
+Allan's despondency until Two Spot, blinking inquiringly from the
+Morris chair, saw that the world was awry and decided to go to sleep
+until things were righted again. And the answer to his St. Thomas Club
+message, which came just before noon, did not tend to lighten Allan's
+spirits.
+
+"Ware of Erskine," it ran, "won third in mile run December
+twenty-sixth."
+
+Allan, as he tossed the sheet of buff paper angrily aside, wondered
+whether, after all, he had not taken part in the meeting while
+temporarily unbalanced; he had heard of such things, he thought. Or
+perhaps he had fallen asleep and--but no, his imagination couldn't
+conceive of any one running a mile race and negotiating inclined
+corners without waking up! It was a strange and maddening mystery,
+and the more he puzzled over it the stranger it seemed and the more
+exasperated he became.
+
+Stearns called after lunch and listened to an account of the
+developments with perfunctory interest. He had given up hope of having
+Allan enter the meet, and had decided that it didn't much matter. For
+it was evident that Allan was worried and nervous, and the chances
+that he would give a good account of himself, if he ran, were slim.
+Stearns was sympathetic, but Allan could see that he, like Pete and
+Tommy, wasn't inclined to let the matter trouble him overmuch.
+
+After the track captain had left, Allan fell into still deeper
+despondency and mooned about his room--which was the last thing he
+should have done--until four o'clock, when a half-hour of jogging on
+the track took him out. No reply from Aunt Mary had reached him by
+dinner time, and although he stayed awake until eleven, in violation of
+training orders, listening eagerly for the opening of the gate which
+should announce the advent of the messenger, he was at last forced to
+go to sleep without the message. You may be certain his sleep did him
+little good. He dreamed all night, or so it seemed, and morning found
+him tired and haggard. His first look was toward the door-sill, but no
+buff envelope rewarded it.
+
+"That settles it," he muttered, bitterly; "I'm not going to hope any
+longer."
+
+Having reached this decision, he threw back his shoulders and walked
+to breakfast whistling a tune. To be sure, the tune wasn't always
+tuneful, and sometimes it died out entirely, but it was a brave
+effort. Breakfast at the training table was an uncomfortable meal for
+him. The others were in the best of spirits, and there was present a
+half-suppressed excitement that showed itself on the countenances and
+in the bearing of the fellows.
+
+None there save Stearns and Pete knew of Allan's trouble, and they
+gave no sign. Pete even seemed to Allan to be indecently happy, and
+his attempts at conversation met with scant encouragement. Half-way
+through the meal Rindgely's absence was discovered, and Kernahan was
+despatched to hunt him up. He had not returned when Allan left the
+house. Every one was cautioned to spend the forenoon out-of-doors and
+report promptly at eleven-thirty for lunch.
+
+The town soon took on a gala appearance. The sidewalks were thronged by
+ten o'clock, and none seemed to have anything to do save discuss the
+outcome of the afternoon's performances. Erskine banners hung from the
+shop windows and fluttered over front doors. Pete wanted Allan to go
+out to the field with him and see the Erskine-Robinson freshman game,
+but Allan had no heart for it, and refused to leave his room. He had no
+recitations, for the professors had very generally given cuts. He wrote
+a letter to his mother--a very dismal production it was, too--and then
+sat at the window with Two Spot in his lap and watched the crowds pass
+on their way to the game.
+
+The college band, followed by a mob of singing, cheering freshmen,
+went by in a cloud of dust, and presently a barge containing the home
+nine passed, and Allan had a glimpse of Hal's gray-clad shoulders.
+The Robinson youngsters had already gone out. The steady stream of
+townfolk and students became broken; groups of three and four passed at
+intervals; now and then a couple of students, laughing and chatting,
+or a solitary mortal hurried by the house. Then, quite suddenly, as it
+seemed, all traffic ceased, and Poplar Street resumed its wonted quiet.
+
+Half an hour later Allan's eyes, roaming from the magazine which he was
+striving to read, sighted a faded blue coat across the little park, and
+his heart leaped into his throat. A messenger boy, whistling a blithe
+tune, toiled slowly along, as though his shoulders bore the weight of
+a great sorrow. Once, when almost at the corner, he stopped, leaned
+against the fence and seemed on the point of going to sleep. Then he
+roused himself and came on. Allan restrained an impulse to dart out
+into the road and waited on the porch, with his heart beating like a
+trip-hammer. The boy reached the corner, glanced with mild interest at
+Allan--and went on up Main Street.
+
+After the first moment of blank and sickening dismay, Allan went to
+the end of the porch and looked after him. Perhaps, after all, he was
+mistaken, and would discover the fact and turn back. But eventually the
+lad sauntered across the street and disappeared around the corner of
+McLean. Allan went back to his chair, his heart like lead and a lump in
+his throat that wouldn't be swallowed.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Out at Erskine Field great things were happening. The purple-lettered
+youngsters were more than holding their own against the far-heralded
+team of Robinson. It was the sixth inning, and the score stood 9 to
+5 in Erskine's favor. Hal had played a magnificent game at second
+and already had a double-play to his credit, and had, besides,
+succeeded beyond all of his team-mates at hitting the redoubtable
+brown-stockinged pitcher. Side by side on the warm turf back of
+third-base, Tommy and Pete were sitting cross-legged, having passed the
+ropes by virtue of Tommy's ever-present note-book, with its staring
+inscription, "Erskine Purple," on the cover. The last man of the
+Erskine side went out, the teams changed places, the seventh inning
+began with Robinson's tail-enders coming to the plate, and Pete resumed
+his narrative, which had been interrupted by Hal's hard drive to
+left-field.
+
+"He didn't have any idea what I had come for," Pete said, "and was
+going to be very nice and polite; he can be when he likes, you know.
+But I wasn't there to pass compliments or swap stories, so I got right
+down out of the saddle and talked business. 'Rindgely, I know that you
+ran in the St. Thomas Club meet in Brooklyn the night after Christmas,
+under the name of A. Ware, and won fifteen dollars,' I said, 'and
+you've got to come out in the open and say so.' Of course, it was a
+rank bluff; I was pretty certain about it after I'd talked with you,
+but I didn't know absolutely, and couldn't prove anything. If he had
+kept his nerve and told me to go to thunder, it would have been all off
+on the spot, and I'd had to crawl off with my tail between my legs.
+But it took him so sudden that he just gasped and got pale around the
+gills. Then I knew I had him roped. So I just waded in and gave it
+to him hot and heavy. Told him he was a horse-thief and an all-round
+galoot; that he ought to be ashamed of himself, and a lot more. When I
+got through he was a pretty sick steer. I had him hog-tied and branded.
+Then he began to play fair.--Ginger! look at that hit! Good work!
+That's two out, ain't it? Only one? Well, it ought to be two."
+
+"And then what?" asked Tommy, making strange marks in the score-book on
+his knee.
+
+"Well, I got kind of sorry for the poor old jack-rabbit. He told me
+all about it, and swore up and down he hadn't meant any harm; that
+he wanted to try what he could do against some good men at the mile,
+and hadn't cared a hang about the money. 'But what did you use Ware's
+name for?' says I. 'Wasn't your own bad enough?' 'Because,' says he,
+'I didn't want my folks to know about it; they live there in Brooklyn,
+and might have seen my name in the paper next day. I didn't think about
+making myself ineligible,' says he, 'and I didn't think I was doing
+Ware any harm.' Well, that may be a lie, but he was sure in the dumps,
+and so I agreed to make things easy for him. 'You write it all out
+in black and white and sign your name to it,' says I, 'and if I can
+I'll keep dark about it. If Allan gets a message from his aunt, all
+right; if he doesn't, I show your document to Nast. I'll wait till the
+two-mile is called.' Bully for you, Hal! That's three, ain't it? Sure!
+Hit it out, Seven!"
+
+"You see," he went on, after the nines had changed places and the
+Erskine captain had seized his bat, "you see, I didn't want to be any
+harder on Rindgely than I had to. He said if the faculty got hold of
+it they'd be sure to either bounce him bodily or hold up his diploma.
+Well, I guess they would, all right, eh?"
+
+"Sure to," answered Tommy, promptly, as he marked the first man out at
+first, scored an assist to the credit of the opposing pitcher and a
+put-out to that of the Brown's first-baseman.
+
+"So that's the way we fixed it up. And I hope Allan gets word from
+auntie, for I'm blessed if I want Rindgely to get kicked out without
+graduating. It would be hard luck for a chap to do four years at hard
+labor here and then slip up just when he was going to grab the prize,
+wouldn't it?"
+
+"Hardest kind of luck," said Tommy. "Hope you don't have to show the
+confession."
+
+Erskine went out in one, two, three order and the eighth inning
+commenced. The band was doing gallant work and Pete found conversation
+beyond his powers until the last strains of a lively two-step had
+died away. By that time the Brown's second man had been retired, and
+Robinson's hopes were dwindling fast.
+
+"Is he going to run this afternoon?" asked Tommy.
+
+Pete shook his head.
+
+"No; you see, I couldn't let him do that; it would be against the law;
+if Allan couldn't run he couldn't, and that's certain."
+
+"No, he hasn't any right to," said Tommy, thoughtfully. "He's plainly
+ineligible because he ran for money; and then, there would be other
+reasons."
+
+"Well, that's the way I figured it out," said Pete, with a note of
+relief in his voice. He was glad to have his decision supported by
+some one who knew more about such things. "But he saw himself that it
+was all up with him as a runner. He said he'd be sick to-day, and,
+as he wasn't at breakfast, I guess he is. I'll bet Dr. Prentiss will
+have a hard time finding out what's wrong with him." And Pete chuckled
+wickedly.
+
+"All out," said Tommy. "Say, Hal! Oh, _Hal_! Give us a home run, Hal!
+Get out! Of course you can. We want some more runs."
+
+"I guess we don't stand much show of winning this afternoon," went
+on Pete. "With Rindgely out of it and Allan all balled up, I can see
+Robinson getting a few points."
+
+"They'll win first in the mile, all right," answered Tommy. "Hooker's
+not in the same class with Rindgely this spring, and Harris isn't a bit
+better; though maybe he'll manage to get placed. As for Allan, he never
+has had any too good a chance at the two miles, and now, after all this
+rumpus, it's a fair bet he'll be out of it entirely. It's a mean shame
+the way things have gone, and when you think that it's all Rindgely's
+fault, expulsion doesn't seem a bit too bad for him."
+
+"Maybe," said Pete, doubtfully, "but I don't want to be the feller to
+get him bounced; that's all. If Allan's confounded old relative doesn't
+come to time I'll--well, I guess I'll give Rindgely's statement to you
+and let you attend to things."
+
+"You've got another guess, Pete," said Tommy. "_I_ don't want anything
+to do with it. Besides, you worked the racket and ought to see it out."
+
+Pete sighed dolefully.
+
+"I suppose I'll have to," he murmured.
+
+Again the inning closed without a tally, and Robinson came in for her
+last turn at bat. Her players looked very determined, and it seemed
+not impossible that they would go in and make up the four runs that
+threatened to defeat them. And the band played again. Pete and Tommy
+were driven from their places by the crowd, which had left the stands
+and were invading the field, and they allowed themselves to be pushed
+forward to the foul-line.
+
+"I suppose Allan thinks I'm a brute," said Pete, dismally. "I didn't go
+near him last night. But I just couldn't stand seeing him so miserable,
+and not blurting out everything I knew. So I fought shy. I just hope it
+ends all right."
+
+Whether that ended all right another chapter will have to tell, but
+there was no doubt about the game ending that way. Robinson went down
+before superb pitching, and with the score still 9 to 5, the spectators
+flooded over the field and their cheers drowned even the band.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+"ON YOUR MARK!"
+
+
+Once more the crowds were moving out to Erskine Field. It was after one
+o'clock, and experienced persons knew that there were no reserved seats
+and that "first come first served" was the rule. The midday sun shone
+warmly and only enthusiasts looked forward with pleasure to sitting on
+the unshaded stands for the next three hours. Robinson's athletes went
+out William Street in two barges, their paraphernalia following them in
+a tumble-down express wagon drawn by a limping sorrel nag, whose bridle
+was draped with brown and white.
+
+The contents of the barges were viewed with polite interest, but the
+wagon awakened amusement on the part of sober citizens and ribald mirth
+on the part of undignified undergraduates. Nearing the field, the eyes
+caught sight above the tree-tops of the great purple banner, with its
+snowy E, which fluttered lazily at the top of the tall staff. At half
+after one the stands were thickly sprinkled with spectators, and the
+flutter of programs--used in lieu of fans--was visible across the
+field; with a little imagination one could have likened the ladies, in
+their bright and many-colored gowns and hats, to flowers, and thought
+the fluttering programs lighter petals stirred in a breeze.
+
+On the track, runners and sprinters were jogging to and fro and on the
+edge of the field the officials were gathering, their purple and gold
+badges glowing bravely in the sunlight. Two big tents had been erected
+at the end of the oval nearest the gates, and about them white-garbed
+contestants lay or sat on outspread dressing-gowns, while rubbers and
+trainers came and went among them like anxious hens among their broods.
+
+In front of the Erskine dressing-tent sat Allan. He had been up and
+down the straightaway three times and was still breathing heavily as
+a result. He had no hope now of being allowed to enter his event, and
+even if he were, he reflected, he would stand small show of winning,
+since it was evident that he was in poor shape. Physically he seemed
+fit enough, but he was aware all the time of a feeling of nervousness
+and depression that was ill-calculated to help him in a grueling two
+miles.
+
+Word had been left at the telegraph office that if a message came for
+him it was to be rushed out to the field as fast as possible, and to
+this end a horse and buggy from Pike's stable was already standing
+in front of the door. Stearns was taking no chances, for now that
+Rindgely had been declared too ill to enter the contest, another five
+points were almost certain to go to Robinson, and if it was possible
+for Allan to enter the two miles and make a fight for a place, he must
+do it. Stearns was worried and down-hearted.
+
+Even the most optimistic calculators could not figure a victory for
+Erskine with first places in both the long-distance events conceded to
+her rival. As a last resort, Stearns had secured the postponement of
+the two miles to the tag end of the afternoon. He had thrown himself on
+the generosity of the Robinson captain and explained the predicament.
+
+And the Robinson captain, who was Brooks, their crack hurdler, had
+consented, a piece of sportsmanship which met with the condemnation of
+his trainer and many of the team. But the expedient promised to work
+little good, for it was plain that if Allan's telegram to his aunt
+had reached her she would have replied not later than yesterday. But
+Stearns was in desperate straits and no chance was too slight for him
+to seize upon.
+
+At a few minutes after two o'clock the pistol was heard from the far
+end of the straightaway, and Erskine took the first honors of the meet,
+Stearns securing first place and Leroy second in the 100 yards dash,
+and earning 8 points for the Purple.
+
+To chronicle the afternoon's proceedings in detail would be a tiresome
+as well as an unnecessary task. In the 120 yards hurdles, which
+followed the first dash, and in the 220 yards hurdles, which came later
+on the program, Robinson had things pretty much her own way, Brooks,
+her captain, taking first place handily in each. Robinson won 12 points
+in these events, and Erskine 6. Stearns again showed his mettle in
+the 220 dash, and Robinson got second and third; 5 points for Erskine
+and 4 points for her adversary. In the quarter-mile the best the home
+team could do was to secure third place, and that by the narrowest
+margin, though the time, 50-2/5 seconds, was absurdly slow. When the mile
+was called, the 220 yards hurdles had not been run and the score on
+Professor Nast's sheet stood: Erskine, 18; Robinson, 18. So far things
+were happening in a way that brought joy to the professor's heart, but
+the field events were still undecided and the long distances were yet
+to run.
+
+The mile event worked the audience up to the highest stage of
+excitement, and for a long while, in fact until the three-quarters had
+been passed, the race was most anybody's. But after that Coolbroth of
+Robinson sprang into the lead, closely pursued by Harris of Erskine,
+and Patterson of Robinson. The finish was made in that order, Harris
+and Patterson fighting for second honors all the way around the last
+lap, and Harris finally winning his 3 points by a bare two yards. The
+hammer throw was decided about this time, and Robinson was credited
+with first and third, Monroe winning second for Erskine. The score
+now was not so satisfactory to the supporters of the Purple, since it
+stood: Erskine, 24; Robinson, 30.
+
+The Purple exceeded expectations in the broad jump, allowing her rival
+but 1 point. In the high jump, however, she didn't show up so well;
+Robinson took first and third places. After the 220 yards hurdles,
+which, as has been already told, were won by Brooks, Erskine securing
+but 1 point, the score was heavily in the Brown's favor, 45 to 36. By
+this time the afternoon had worn well toward sunset. Only the shot-put,
+the 880 yards run, the pole-vault and the two miles remained. Of these,
+Robinson was conceded 8 points in the pole-vault, 5 in the shot-put
+and 1 in the 880. It was difficult to see how Erskine could pull out
+of the meet ahead. In fact, it was evident that she couldn't. Even
+Tommy, normally optimistic, had lost hope. While the competitors in the
+hurdles were trotting off to the tents he hurried across to where the
+shot-putters were at work. As he approached, six of the nine candidates
+were donning their dressing-gowns, and he knew that the trials were
+over and that the six were out of it. Then he pursed his lips and
+whistled softly. Of the three competitors remaining for the finals, two
+were Erskine men, Monroe and--yes, the other was Pete! The Robinson
+candidate was Tiernan, who had won first in the hammer throw. Pete
+hailed Tommy and drew him aside.
+
+"Have you got that paper safe?" he asked.
+
+"Yes." Tommy reassured him by allowing a corner of it to peep forth
+from his inside pocket. Pete nodded and glanced toward the tent.
+
+"For goodness' sake, don't lose it," he said. "And keep a watch for the
+two miles. We're not through here yet and I don't want the scheme to
+slip up."
+
+"All right. And say, Pete!"
+
+"Yep?"
+
+"Do your best, old man, won't you?" begged Tommy. "They're 'way ahead
+of us, but if we get first and third out of this we may have a fighting
+chance."
+
+"Well, we'll see," said Pete, untroubled. "I've got Monroe dead to
+rights, anyway."
+
+"Yes, but beat Tiernan, Pete; we've _got_ to win!"
+
+"Well, just as you say, Tommy," answered Pete, smiling at the other's
+look of tragedy. "For your sake, Tommy, I'll do my best."
+
+"Burley!" called the field judge, and Pete drew his sweater off and
+stepped into the ring. There were three competitors remaining, and each
+was allowed three tries, the best of which was to count. Pete picked up
+the shot, took up his position at the rear of the circle, placed the
+weight in his broad right hand, threw his left arm out to balance him,
+raised his left foot from the ground, and then, with a motion that was
+neither hop nor glide, reached the front of the circle, brought his
+right shoulder smartly round and sent the weight flying. The measurer
+started to lay the end of the tape where the shot had struck, but
+stopped at judge's announcement.
+
+"Foul," said the latter. "You overstepped, Burley."
+
+Pete nodded carelessly and donned his sweater again. Kernahan, who had
+approached during the try, beckoned to him, and they stepped aside.
+
+"That won't do, Pete," said Billy. "Keep that elbow in to the body; you
+had it spread way out that time. And mind the stop. Take all the time
+you want, you know; there's no hurry."
+
+Pete grinned.
+
+"_That's_ all right," he said. "Don't worry about me, Billy. I'll get
+it away all right next time."
+
+Monroe followed with a put of 43 feet 6 inches, and Tiernan bettered
+this by half a foot. Again Pete peeled his sweater off and took up the
+shot. As he stood there, balancing himself, he looked, with a careless,
+good-natured smile on his face, like a giant who, for his amusement,
+had entered the sports of pigmies. He was taller than Tiernan and
+bigger everywhere than Monroe; the judge came barely to his shoulder.
+The muscles of his arms were like great ropes under the clear skin.
+Once more he crossed the ring, and once more the leaden ball was hurled
+forward. From the stands came a chorus of applause. Tommy's face
+lighted, and even Billy gave an appreciative nod. The Robinson trainer,
+standing across the circle, shot a quick glance at Pete as he stepped
+out and took his sweater from the turf.
+
+"Forty-four feet seven inches," announced the judge, as he held the
+tape to the edge of the stop-board. Tommy clapped Pete on the shoulder
+and whispered his delight. Pete smiled good-humoredly.
+
+"All out for the 880!" cried a voice across the oval. "Hurry up,
+half-milers!"
+
+Monroe made his second try, and the tape said 44 feet 1 inch. He turned
+away in disgust. Pete smiled. Robinson's champion took plenty of time
+at his next try, and made a splendid put. He had exceeded Pete's best
+attempt and there was a breathless silence around the ring as the tape
+was adjusted. Then,
+
+"Forty-five feet two inches," said the judge.
+
+The Robinson trainer, who had looked anxious a moment since, smiled
+demurely. Over on the starting line the half-milers were being placed.
+Along the length of the stands the spectators were leaving their seats
+here and there. Pete stepped into the seven-foot circle for his last
+try. Tommy, a few feet away, watched him eagerly. With the shot in
+his right hand, Pete looked across and dropped his left eyelid in a
+portentous wink.
+
+Tommy's heart sank. If Pete would only stop his fooling for a minute,
+he thought, and really put his heart into it! And while the thought
+came to him, Pete was hopping across the ring and poising himself for
+an instant at the front edge. Then his body swung around, his right
+arm shot out like a steel spring, and the shot went arching over the
+ground. Tommy's heart leaped into his throat and then thumped wildly.
+From the stands whose occupants were near enough to be able to follow
+the shot-putting came a great roar of applause. Tommy, with his eyes
+fixed intently on the tape, felt a hand seize his arm and pull him
+around.
+
+"Come along," said Pete, "and find Nast."
+
+"Wait! Wait till we find out----"
+
+"Find out nothing," said Pete. "Monroe can't touch that put!"
+
+But even as Tommy hung back the judge looked up from the tape with a
+smile on his face.
+
+"Forty-five feet eleven inches!" he said.
+
+"_Oh, bully!_" cried Tommy. "But Tiernan----"
+
+"Huh!" said Pete.
+
+From across the field came the sharp report of the pistol sending
+the half-milers away, and as Pete and Tommy hurried to the tents the
+white-clad runners swept by in a bunch on the first of their two laps,
+Poor and Tolmann side by side in the lead, and Thatcher, Erskine's main
+hope, running warily well toward the rear. Around the turns they went
+and entered the back-stretch, hundreds of voices urging them on.
+
+Allan, a depressed-looking figure in his dragging drab gown, met them
+as they crossed the track. There was no use asking him whether he had
+received the longed-for message; one glance at his face was sufficient.
+Pete took him aside out of the throng.
+
+"You're going to run, Allan," he said, in low tones, "so get warmed up.
+Now, don't ask any questions, for I can't answer 'em yet. Just do as I
+tell you. It's all right; you're going to run, and if you don't win out
+I'll--I'll lick you!"
+
+The expression of hope which had at first leaped into Allan's face died
+out again, but a look of curiosity remained.
+
+"What--what do you mean?" he asked, wonderingly.
+
+"Just what I say. You're going to run, and if you want to do anything
+in the race get your muscles stretched. Let go of me; I'm in a hurry.
+Have you seen Nast?"
+
+"I've found him," said Tommy, hurrying up. "He's gone over to the
+finish. Here come the half-milers. Track, there!"
+
+Once more the runners sped past, but now they were no longer bunched
+together. In front, leading by half a dozen yards, ran Poor. Next came
+Thatcher, then a Robinson man, then Tolmann. Behind Tolmann the rest of
+the field pegged away, already out of the reckoning, barring accidents.
+
+"All out for the two miles!" bawled the clerk.
+
+Pete shot a glance at Tommy and the latter nodded. Together they turned
+away.
+
+"Get a move on, Allan," cried Pete. "Don't stand there like a wooden
+Indian!" Allan, his face expressing wonder and returning hope, slipped
+quickly out of his dressing-gown.
+
+"I guess you're joking, Pete," he said, "but----"
+
+"Is Mr. Ware here?" piped a shrill voice, and the blue-coated messenger
+boy pushed his way through the throng about the tents. "Telegram for
+Mr. Ware!"
+
+With a cry Allan turned and seized the envelope from the boy's hands
+and tore it open. Under the gaze of dozens of curious eyes, he read the
+words on the still damp sheet of yellow paper and turned with exultant
+eyes to Pete and Tommy, who had paused at the edge of the track.
+
+"It's all right!" he cried. "Where's Nast?" And he sped off around the
+track. Tommy and Pete followed, and the latter, as he went, took a
+folded sheet of foolscap from his pocket and tore it into tiny pieces.
+
+"Hurry up for the two miles!" bawled the clerk again.
+
+When Allan reached the finish he was unable for a moment to reach
+Professor Nast, for the half-milers were tearing down the home-stretch
+and the crowd was thick about the tape. Shouts of triumph, roars of
+applause, arose. Down the cinders, their straining forms throwing long
+wavering shadows before them, came Thatcher, Tolmann, and a Robinson
+runner, the first two almost side by side, the third man four or five
+yards behind. Then, in an instant more, the red string fluttered away
+and Thatcher raced over the line, a winner by a bare yard over his
+team-mate.
+
+"Eight more points!" cried Tommy, gleefully. "Who knows how the
+shot-put came out?"
+
+"We got first and third," answered Hal, turning. "Hello, Tommy, is
+that you?" But Tommy was too busy casting up figures on his score to do
+more than nod.
+
+"Was Pete first?" he asked in a moment.
+
+"First! Gosh, he was first by almost a foot. Tiernan fouled on his last
+try, and----"
+
+"How about Monroe?" asked Pete, worming his way forward.
+
+"Hello, you old brick!" cried Hal, seizing his hand. "Why, Monroe did
+something like forty-four feet two, I think."
+
+"_That's_ all right," said Pete.
+
+By this time Allan had found Professor Nast, and the latter was reading
+the message. It ran:
+
+    "Allan was at my house New York evening December twenty-sixth
+    except between eight and eight-thirty o'clock when he went
+    errand for me Thirty-ninth street. Could not have gone to
+    Brooklyn and did not if he says so.      MARY G. MERRILL."
+
+The professor handed back the sheet of paper and put his hand on
+Allan's shoulder.
+
+"Good," he said, with satisfaction. "Go in and win, Ware."
+
+He pushed him toward where the long-distance men were assembling at
+the start. Allan waited for no more, but darted down the track. As he
+reached the group, his name was called and he answered as he slipped
+into the second line of runners. The next instant Stearns was pulling
+him aside, his eyes wide with eagerness.
+
+"Is it all right?" he whispered. "Did you get word?"
+
+"Yes, a minute ago. I've seen Nast."
+
+Stearns gave him a hug that left him almost breathless.
+
+"Thank goodness!" he said, softly. "The meet's tied at 54 points. The
+whole thing depends on this, and we've got to have first place, Ware,
+we've _got_ to! Watch that man Burns over there; the tall chap with the
+tow hair; he's dangerous. And-- Say, Billy," turning to the trainer, who
+had slipped across the track to them, "Ware's in it, after all. I was
+telling him to----"
+
+"Get the lead at the start, or as soon as you can, and just simply hold
+it, if you have to break a leg," said Billy, quietly. "How are you
+feeling?"
+
+"I--I don't know," answered Allan. "But--I guess I'm all right."
+
+"Good. See that light-haired Robinson man over there at the pole? Well,
+play for him, Ware. And don't let him head you for a minute. All right
+now."
+
+"All ready, there?" called the starter, as he dropped back and glanced
+at the pistol in his hand. There was an instant of silence. Then,
+
+"_On your mark!_" he cried.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+THE LAST EVENT
+
+
+Eleven men had entered for the two-mile run, six from Robinson and
+five from Erskine. Of these, we know Ware, Conroy, and Hooker, wearers
+of the purple ribbon, and have just heard of Burns, the Brown's crack
+long-distance runner. In view of the result of the race, it may be well
+to mention also Tammen, another Robinson entry, who, until to-day,
+had been viewed as a second-rater. For the others, they were big and
+little, fair and dark, and all with their spurs still to win. Taken
+together, they were a clean-built, healthy lot as they stood at the
+starting line, their white running pants and white shirts--the latter
+crossed by the purple ribbon or the brown and white--just tinged with
+saffron by the long rays of the setting sun. The starter glanced again
+at his pistol.
+
+"_Set!_" he cried.
+
+And as the runners put their weights forward and poised arms front
+and back, the pistol spoke and the spiked shoes bit at the cinders
+as the men strove for the inside of the track. The timers looked
+up from their watches and the group about the line broke up. Ten
+minutes--possibly a little less, perhaps a little more--must elapse
+before the result could be known and Erskine or Robinson could claim
+the meet. For by a freak of fortune each college had now 54 points
+to its credit, and final victory would go to that one whose colors
+first brushed the string at the finish. Whether the spring's labor and
+planning was to be crowned with victory or draped with defeat depended
+on who won first place and its 5 points.
+
+A knowledge of this accompanied Allan all through the race, now
+spurring him on to determined effort, now casting him into the depths
+of hopelessness and despair. The meet depended upon him, and he wished
+with all his heart that it didn't. For from the first instant he
+knew that he was not in a condition to do his best. He was aware of
+high-strung nerves and a general feeling of worry. For the latter there
+was no longer any reason; but reason or no reason, it remained. The
+last two days and their accompanying nights of unrefreshing slumber had
+had their effect. For the rest, his muscles were strong and supple, his
+lungs eager for their task.
+
+Half-way around the first lap he had secured the lead, none disputing
+it with him, and had settled down into that apparently slow pace
+which makes the two-mile event look so unexciting at the first. He
+knew himself capable of making that pace for the entire distance and
+finishing comparatively fresh, but he also knew that Burns, who was
+coming serenely along half-way back down the length of the string,
+could stand it quite as well, and could probably sprint in the last
+quarter mile and beat him out. He decided then to increase the pace, in
+the hope of wearing the Robinson crack out, yet knowing that to make
+too fast a race would finish him up just as surely as it would Burns.
+
+When the home-stretch was reached in that first lap Allan set his legs
+to faster work, and as he crossed the line and completed the eighth of
+his distance, supporters of the Purple shook their heads. It wouldn't
+do, they murmured; he would run himself out in the first mile and a
+half. Even Kernahan was a little worried, though nothing of the sort
+showed on his face. At the end of the second lap Allan had not abated
+his speed a jot.
+
+As he passed the groups around the finish and the tents, his eyes were
+set straight ahead, his long strides clung closely to the inner rim of
+the track and he was holding himself well erect. Into his cheeks the
+blood was creeping and dyeing them crimson, save for two disks that
+showed whiter and whiter as the contest wore on. Behind Allan ran an
+unknown Robinson man, then Hooker, then Tammen, then Burns. Conroy was
+dangerously far back, and, with others in his neighborhood, was showing
+that he didn't approve of the pace.
+
+Of all distances, the two miles is the hardest to run. Speed as a
+factor in success is largely eliminated, and endurance is the supreme
+test. The race requires a large courage on the part of the runner,
+the courage to endure. It has been said, and truly, that it takes a
+fast man for the sprints and a brave man for the distances. At the
+completion of the fourth lap it is safe to say that five of the six
+runners were as completely and hopelessly beaten as though the race was
+finishing. Their legs dragged, their heads were falling back, and their
+lungs were aching. But it had been the fastest half of a two-mile race
+ever run on Erskine Field.
+
+Of those in the van of the long line of runners, which now stretched
+half-way around the oval, only three maintained their form at the
+beginning of the fifth lap; those were Allan, Burns, and Tammen.
+Save that the unknown Robinson man who had held second place at the
+beginning had dropped back to fifth position, the order was unchanged.
+Between Allan and his team-mate, Hooker, there was three yards of
+cinders; between Hooker and Tammen, five yards more. Back of Tammen,
+only a stride separating them, ran Burns, untroubled, and holding his
+own with great, long, easy strides.
+
+The turf was strangely green, for the low slanting beams of the sun
+bathed it in their golden glow. The stands were almost deserted, for
+the occupants were clustered all along the home-stretch, their eager
+gaze following the white-clad figures on the darkening track.
+
+If Allan's form was still nearly what it had been at the beginning of
+the race, it must not be supposed that the mile had not told. Usually
+the two-miler finishes the half-distance in comparatively unwearied
+condition and faces his troubles from then on, but Allan had set a
+fast pace, and it had told on him, in spite of appearances. He felt
+as he usually did at the end of the mile and a half, and he wondered
+troubledly if he had not overdone it.
+
+At the turns, now and then, a backward glance revealed the confident
+face of Burns, while Hooker's tortured breathing told its own tale.
+Either he must last out or Robinson would take second and third
+positions, as well as first. But he had grown fearful of his ability to
+do so, and on the sixth lap he eased up on his pace. And half-way down
+the back-stretch he wondered if he had not, after all, made a mistake
+in doing so. For Burns, refusing to slow down, had bested Tammen and
+Hooker and was apparently striving to pass Allan. But at the beginning
+of the next lap, the seventh, Allan saw that the supreme struggle was
+not yet, for Burns had slipped in behind him, apparently content to let
+him set the pace for a while longer.
+
+Then Hooker began to drop back. He had done his best, but his best was
+not good enough. Tammen passed him and ranged himself behind Burns, and
+these three, when the last lap began, were leading the field by sixty
+yards or more. As they swept by the finish the shouts of the spectators
+made a deafening roar in their ears. Allan had a dim vision of Pete
+leaping alongside the track at the first turn, near the tents, waving
+his long arms against the sunset glow and shouting unintelligible
+things.
+
+Once around that first turn, Allan shot a glance over his shoulder and
+his heart leaped. Unless he was very much mistaken, Burns had lost
+ground. That was Allan's last turn of the head. From that time on it
+was merely a question of hugging the rim of the track and enduring the
+ache of limb and chest, doubting all the while his ability to hold his
+place and all the while determining to do it.
+
+He was right about Burns. That redoubtable runner had gone to pieces
+all in the minute. At the second turn he was plainly no longer
+dangerous to Allan, and back at the finish the throng roared its relief
+and delight. And while it was still shouting, Tammen shot around Burns
+and began to lessen the dozen or so yards between him and Allan. And
+Allan, hearing vaguely a new note in the voices across the field and
+the rapid pat of steps on the track behind him, guessed what was up and
+felt his heart sink. Here was a man who could sprint, something Allan
+had never been able to do satisfactorily, and here, in all probability,
+was the winner of the race! Those gazing obliquely across the oval saw
+Allan falter for a stride just at the farther turn, and their hearts
+sank.
+
+But after that first instant of what was something like terror, Allan
+pulled himself together. In his own words, it was up to him to win, and
+win he would, if only his breath would last that long. Tammen, three
+yards behind him, made no attempt to pass him at the turns, but kept
+himself in hand for the home-stretch. And Allan, grim and determined,
+weakening with every long gasp for breath, knew that when the track
+stretched straight before him to the distant white line the battle
+would really begin, and that in the length of that distance the meeting
+would be won or lost.
+
+And then he finished the turn and the rim ran straight beside him.
+And then the _pat_, _pat_ behind him crept nearer and nearer.
+Presently, when the stretch was half run, Allan was conscious, without
+looking--for he dared not take his eyes from the track ahead--of
+something grayish-white at his elbow.
+
+The time had come to do the impossible, to spur his weary limbs into
+renewed effort, to force his panting lungs to greater exertion, and
+to keep that grayish blur where it was. To have thrown himself--nay,
+to have simply let himself drop onto the grass beside the track and
+troubled no more about anything, would have been at that moment the
+greatest pleasure of a lifetime. But along the track voices were
+roaring and shrieking, and, although the words were sounds only, the
+meaning of them he knew. They wanted him to win, and the desire found a
+new echo in his heart. He wanted to win, and--why, yes, he _would_ win!
+
+And now the white line was in plain sight, although he didn't see
+it, and the roar of voices was rising and growing. For a moment it
+seemed to him that he was motionless, and that the dark ranks on
+either side were moving slowly past him. And at the moment a glimpse
+of whitish-gray at his right dispelled the illusion, and with a sob
+for breath, he forced himself on. Once in that remaining twenty yards
+he staggered, and the watchers held their breaths for fear, but he
+recovered himself and plunged, reeling, on--and on--and on. Was there
+no end to it? he wondered, in agony. The haunting blur beside him was
+gone now, and----
+
+"Hold up! Easy, man, easy!" cried a voice that he seemed to know, and
+then dozens of arms were clutching him, and he let himself go. And as
+his eyes closed a whitish form passed before them and dropped from
+sight. Tammen, plucky to the last, was being lifted from the track,
+where, defeated and exhausted, he had fallen. And Allan, with closed
+eyes and tortured lungs, felt himself being carried to the tent, while
+in his ears was a roar of sound that told of victory and a race well
+run.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+"VALE"
+
+
+Allan and Pete sat on the steps of McLean Hall. The yard was a
+fairyland of glowing lanterns and moving colors. Near at hand, in a
+bough-screened stand, the band was playing. Above their heads the old
+elms of Erskine rustled their leaves and whispered among themselves,
+comparing, perhaps, this class-day with the many that had gone before.
+On the gravel paths matrons and maids, in light gowns, accompanied by
+robed seniors or dress-suited undergraduates, passed and repassed. The
+scene was as fair a one as ever Allan had witnessed, while even Pete
+was forced to grudging admiration.
+
+"You'll come out in August, then," Pete was saying.
+
+"Yes," answered Allan, "and don't you be afraid I won't turn up, for
+this is the biggest excursion I ever took. So far I've never been
+farther away from home than this, and Colorado seems like the other
+side of the world."
+
+Pete smiled in the half-light.
+
+"Hope you'll like us, Allan. We may seem rather a rough and unpolished
+lot at first, but we're not so bad when you cotton to our way of life."
+
+"Of course I'll like you," said Allan, vehemently. "If it wasn't for
+you and your father, Pete, where'd we be now?"
+
+"Where you are, I guess," laughed Pete. "Let me tell you something,
+Allan. When you get out to Blackwater, don't you go to speaking pieces
+at the old man, and thanking him; that's a line of talk he can't stand."
+
+"But I've got to thank him," objected Allan.
+
+"No you haven't; your mother's done that already in her letter.
+Besides, there isn't anything to make a fuss about. I gave the tip to
+dad, and he bought up enough stock in the Gold Beetle to get control.
+Then he called a meeting, voted to go ahead with the mine, and--did it.
+And he found a whole bunch of ore, just as I knew he would. He don't
+need any thanks. Why, ginger, the old mine will make him richer than it
+will you folks!"
+
+"Well, then, I'll thank you again," said Allan.
+
+"If you do, I'll punch you! Look, there's Rindgely with his folks.
+Nice-looking woman, that mother of his. Say, maybe I ain't glad I
+didn't have to show that confession of him!"
+
+"So'm I," said Allan, heartily. "It would have been a shame to prevent
+him from graduating. After all, I don't suppose he realized what he was
+doing."
+
+"Well, I don't know about that," answered Pete. "Anyhow, I'm glad we
+caught on to him in time. And it was all Two Spot's doing, too; did you
+ever think of that? If she hadn't rolled that ball of paper to my feet
+I'd never have seen that chap's name and asked about him. It was that
+that put me onto the game. I remembered Tommy's telling about Rindgely
+and the St. Thomas Club. By the way, it's time those fellows showed up."
+
+"Tommy and Hal? They're always late. Have you heard Tommy's voice? He
+cheered so hard at the ball game this afternoon that he can't talk
+above a whisper. Hal's trying to induce him to sing with the glee club."
+
+"There's Hooker and Long. What sort of a captain do you suppose Long
+will make?"
+
+"First rate, I should think. The fellows like him and he's a
+hard-working, earnest sort of a fellow."
+
+"Well, just as long as they didn't light on Monroe," said Pete. "That
+man will be the death of me, he puts on so many airs. Next fall, when
+I get back, I'm going to start right in and learn how to throw the
+hammer, and keep at it until I can beat him at that, too."
+
+"You'll be busy at football," suggested Allan.
+
+"Football? Oh--well, maybe; football isn't a bad game, after all. But--
+Here they are. O Tommy! Tommy Sweet!"
+
+Tommy and Hal, attracted by Pete's bellow, turned and joined them.
+
+"Thought we'd never get here," said Tommy, hoarsely. "Hal got mixed up
+with an ice-cream freezer and ate six saucerfuls before I could drag
+him away."
+
+"That's so," Hal confessed. "That's the trouble with breaking training;
+things taste so good and it's so jolly nice to be able to eat all you
+want to. I expect to be fine and sick to-night."
+
+"You have every right to," said Allan. "When a little old freshman gets
+taken onto the varsity and makes a home run in the ninth inning, just
+when it's needed, and lets in three men----"
+
+"Oh, shut up! And come on up to the room and eat. We can hear the music
+finely from the windows. I've got some nice cold ginger ale up there,
+and Mr. and Mrs. Guild ought to be along about now. Come on."
+
+"Well, I never took much of a shine to ginger ale," said Pete, drawing
+his big form erect; "the fizzy stuff always goes up my nose. But I'll
+have some, for it sure is hot to-night."
+
+"We'll drink Tommy's health," said Hal, as they moved across the turf
+under the swaying lanterns, "and we'll get him to sing us 'A Health to
+King Charles' in his nice new voice."
+
+"Toast yourselves," growled Tommy, hoarsely.
+
+"We will!" cried Allan. "We'll toast ourselves, and we'll drink to
+next year, when we'll all be jolly sophomores--except you, Tommy dear,
+who'll be a disgustingly serious and dignified junior."
+
+Laughing, they crossed the yard, under the glow of the lanterns, and
+passed out of sight into the shadows of Elm Street. Against the front
+of College Hall appeared in sputtering purple flames the word
+
+
+"VALE."
+
+
+
+
+BY RALPH HENRY BARBOUR.
+
+
+The Spirit of the School.
+
+The story of a boy who works his way through school. Illustrated in
+Colors. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+
+Four Afloat.
+
+Four Afoot.
+
+Four in Camp.
+
+A series of books relating the adventures of four boy companions.
+Illustrated in Colors, $1.50 each.
+
+
+On Your Mark!
+
+A Story of College Life and Athletics. Illustrated in Colors by C. M.
+RELYEA. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+No other author has caught so truly the spirit of school and college
+life.
+
+
+The Arrival of Jimpson.
+
+Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+Stories of college pranks, baseball, football, hockey, and college life.
+
+
+The Book of School and College Sports.
+
+Fully illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.75 net; postage additional.
+
+
+Weatherby's Inning.
+
+A Story of College Life and Baseball. Illustrated in Colors by C. M.
+RELYEA. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+In this recent book Mr. Barbour tells a story of college life and sport.
+
+
+Behind the Line.
+
+A Story of School and Football. Illustrated by C. M. RELYEA. 12mo.
+Cloth, $1.50.
+
+
+Captain of the Crew.
+
+Illustrated by C. M. RELYEA. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+A fresh, graphic, delightful story that appeals to all healthy boys and
+girls.
+
+
+For the Honor of the School.
+
+A Story of School Life and Interscholastic Sport. Illustrated by C. M.
+RELYEA. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+
+The Half-Back.
+
+Illustrated by B. WEST CLINEDINST. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+"It is in every sense an out-and-out boys' book."--_Boston Herald._
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+By C. C. HOTCHKISS.
+
+The Land Hero of 1812.
+
+Illustrated by B. WEST CLINEDINST. 12mo. Cloth, $1.25.
+
+Mr. Hotchkiss, who is well known through his stories for grown-ups, has
+chosen as the subject of his first book for boys the life of Andrew
+Jackson. While the facts of history are presented, the author adroitly
+constructed his story upon the most picturesque incidents of Jackson's
+varied career. The book is therefore instructive as well as interesting.
+
+
+By KIRK MUNROE.
+
+The Outcast Warrior.
+
+Illustrated. 12mo. Ornamental Cloth, $1.50.
+
+This is a boys' story of a white man turned Indian and his adventures
+in the Western wilderness. He distinguishes himself as a warrior and is
+known as Wicasta, the Man Chief of the Aricarees. He marries Koda, a
+Sioux captive, and becomes the father of Hanana (Morning Light).
+
+
+By OTTILIE A. LILJENCRANTZ.
+
+The Vinland Champions.
+
+Illustrated by the KINNEYS. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+A rousing good boys' book with plenty of dash and go and a glimpse of
+the wild, free life of the Vikings in it. Every school-boy has heard of
+the vague rumor that the Norsemen discovered America before Christopher
+Columbus. The story tells of the party of one hundred Icelanders who
+went and dwelt there and called it the "Peace Land."
+
+
+By JULIE M. LIPPMANN.
+
+Every-Day Girls.
+
+Illustrated in colors. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+The best book for girls that has appeared in years; it has all the
+charm and sweetness that is contained in "Little Women." It is not
+merely a chronicle of events, however, but teaches a valuable lesson.
+The girls are sweet and lovely and quarrelsome and impulsive, just as
+every-day girls are. They have a hard and exciting time, and they fight
+a battle and win it. It is a charming, wholesome book.
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+BY WILLIAM O. STODDARD.
+
+Each Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+The Boy Lincoln.
+
+This is an absorbing fanciful account of the early days of Abraham
+Lincoln when he was a boy living on the frontier.
+
+
+The Fight for the Valley.
+
+Colored Frontispiece and other Illustrations.
+
+A narrative of the brave defense of Fort Schuyler and the battle of
+Oriskany.
+
+
+The Spy of Yorktown.
+
+Colored Frontispiece.
+
+A story of the Yorktown campaign and Benedict Arnold.
+
+
+With the Black Prince.
+
+A Story of Adventure in the Fourteenth Century.
+
+The absorbing interest of this stirring historical romance will appeal
+to all young readers.
+
+
+Success Against Odds; or, How an American Boy Made his Way.
+
+In this spirited and interesting story Mr. Stoddard tells the
+adventures of a plucky boy who fought his own battles and made his way
+upward from poverty in a Long Island seashore town. It is a tale of
+pluck and self-reliance capitally told.
+
+
+The Red Patriot.
+
+A Story of the American Revolution.
+
+
+The Windfall; or, After the Flood.
+
+Illustrated by B. West Clinedinst.
+
+
+Chris, the Model-Maker.
+
+A Story of New York. With 6 full-page Illustrations by B. West
+Clinedinst.
+
+
+On the Old Frontier.
+
+With 10 full-page Illustrations.
+
+
+The Battle of New York.
+
+With 11 full-page Illustrations and colored Frontispiece.
+
+
+Little Smoke.
+
+A Story of the Sioux Indians. With 12 full-page Illustrations by F. S
+Dellenbaugh, portraits of Sitting Bull, Red Cloud, and other chiefs,
+and 72 head and tail pieces representing the various implements and
+surroundings of Indian life.
+
+
+Crowded Out o' Crofield.
+
+With 23 Illustrations by C. T. Hill.
+
+The story of a country boy who fought his way to success in the
+metropolis.
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+BOOKS BY J. A. ALTSHELER.
+
+
+The Young Trailers.
+
+Illustrated. 12mo. Ornamental cloth, $1.50.
+
+A boys' story, telling of the first settlers in Kentucky. Their
+pleasures and hardships, their means of protection, methods of
+obtaining food and ammunition are described in a way that makes the
+reader live with them. The life led by the young hero--his fights with
+Indians and his captivity among them--is vividly pictured.
+
+
+The Wilderness Road.
+
+A Romance of St. Clair's Defeat and Wayne's Victory. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+"That Mr. Altsheler has caught the wild, free spirit of the life which
+he depicts is evident on every page, and nowhere more so than in one of
+his final chapters, 'The Meeting of the Chiefs,' where he vitalizes the
+life-and-death struggle of a friendly and a hostile Indian."--_New York
+Mail and Express._
+
+
+In Circling Camps.
+
+A Romance of the American Civil War. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+"We do not often get as fine a picture as that which Mr. Altsheler
+paints. The tale covers the period from the election and inauguration
+of Lincoln until the surrender of Lee and the entrance of the Northern
+army into Richmond.... Every good American who enjoys the smell of
+powder and the crack of the rifle will appreciate the chapters that
+describe the battle of Gettysburg."--_The Bookman._
+
+
+A Herald of the West.
+
+An American Story of 1811-1815. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+"A rattling good story, and unrivalled in fiction for its
+presentation of the American feeling toward England during our second
+conflict."--_Boston Herald._
+
+
+A Soldier of Manhattan.
+
+And his Adventures at Ticonderoga and Quebec. 12mo. Ornamental cloth,
+$1.50.
+
+"The story is told in such a simple, direct way that it holds the
+reader's interest to the end, and gives a most accurate picture of the
+times."--_Boston Transcript._
+
+
+The Sun of Saratoga.
+
+A Romance of Burgoyne's Surrender. 12mo. Ornamental cloth, $1.50.
+
+"Taken altogether, 'The Sun of Saratoga' is the best historical novel
+of American origin that has been written for years, if not, indeed, in
+a fresh, simple, unpretending, unlabored, manly way, that we have ever
+read."--_New York Mail and Express._
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+COLUMBUS AND WASHINGTON.
+
+
+The Story of Columbus.
+
+By ELIZABETH EGGLESTON SEELYE. Edited by Dr. Edward Eggleston. With 100
+Illustrations by Allegra Eggleston. Delights of History Series. 12mo.
+Cloth, $1.75.
+
+"This is no ordinary work. It is preeminently a work of the present
+time and of the future as well."--_Boston Traveler._
+
+"Mrs. Seelye's book is pleasing in its general effect, and reveals the
+results of painstaking and conscientious study."--_New York Tribune._
+
+"A very just account is given of Columbus, his failings being
+neither concealed nor magnified, but his real greatness being made
+plain."--_New York Examiner._
+
+"The illustrations are particularly well chosen and neatly executed,
+and they add to the general excellence of the volume."--_New York
+Times._
+
+"A brief, popular, interesting, and yet critical volume, just such as
+we should wish to place in the hands of a young reader. The authors of
+this volume have done their best to keep it on a high plane of accuracy
+and conscientious work without losing sight of their readers."--_New
+York Independent._
+
+
+The Story of Washington.
+
+By ELIZABETH EGGLESTON SEELYE. Edited by Dr. Edward Eggleston. With
+over 100 Illustrations by Allegra Eggleston. Delights of History
+Series. 12mo. Cloth, $1.75.
+
+"One of the best accounts of the incidents of Washington's life for
+young people."--_New York Observer._
+
+"The Washington described is not that of the demigod or hero of the
+first half of this century, but the man Washington, with his defects as
+well as his virtues, his unattractive traits as well as his pleasing
+ones.... There is greater freedom from errors than in more pretentious
+lives."--_Chicago Tribune._
+
+"The illustrations are numerous, and actually illustrate, including
+portraits and views, with an occasional map and minor pictures
+suggestive of the habits and customs of the period. It is altogether an
+attractive and useful book, and one that should find many readers among
+American boys and girls."--_Philadelphia Times._
+
+"Will be read with interest by young and old. It is told with good
+taste and accuracy, and if the first President loses some of his
+mythical goodness in this story, the real greatness of his natural
+character stands out distinctly, and his example will be all the
+more helpful to the boys and girls of this generation."--_New York
+Churchman._
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+BY HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH.
+
+
+The Young McKinley.
+
+Illustrated. 12mo. Ornamental Cloth, $1.50.
+
+Mr. Butterworth portrays the future President at school, where, after
+a bitter disappointment, the crusty old school-teacher, who has a good
+heart beneath his severe exterior, says to him: "Never mind, you may be
+President yet." He traces President McKinley's career through his army
+days to the time when he was preparing for that great political career
+which made the blow that struck him down at the height of his glory a
+blow to the whole United States.
+
+
+Brother Jonathan; or, The Alarm Post in the Cedars.
+
+A Tale of Early Connecticut. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+
+In the Days of Audubon.
+
+A Tale of the "Protector of Birds." Illustrated by B. West Clinedinst
+and others. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+
+In the Days of Jefferson; or, The Six Golden Horseshoes.
+
+A Tale of Republican Simplicity. Illustrated by F. T. Merrill. $1.50.
+
+
+The Story of Magellan.
+
+A Tale of the Discovery of the Philippines. Illustrated by F. T.
+Merrill and others. $1.50.
+
+
+The Treasure Ship.
+
+A Story of Sir William Phipps and the Inter-Charter Period in
+Massachusetts. Illustrated by B. West Clinedinst and others. $1.50.
+
+
+The Pilot of the Mayflower.
+
+Illustrated by H. Winthrop Peirce and others. $1.50.
+
+
+True to His Home.
+
+A Tale of the Boyhood of Franklin. Illustrated by H. Winthrop Peirce.
+$1.50.
+
+
+The Wampum Belt; or, The Fairest Page of History.
+
+A Tale of William Penn's Treaty with the Indians. With 6 full-page
+Illustrations. $1.50.
+
+
+The Knight of Liberty.
+
+A Tale of the Fortunes of Lafayette. With 6 full-page Illustrations.
+$1.50.
+
+
+The Patriot Schoolmaster.
+
+A Tale of the Minutemen and the Sons of Liberty. With 6 full-page
+Illustrations by H. Winthrop Peirce. $1.50.
+
+
+In the Boyhood of Lincoln.
+
+A Story of the Black Hawk War and the Tunker Schoolmaster. With 12
+Illustrations and colored Frontispiece. $1.50.
+
+
+The Boys of Greenway Court.
+
+A Story of the Early Years of Washington. With 10 full-page
+Illustrations. $1.50.
+
+
+The Log School-House on the Columbia.
+
+With 13 full-page Illustrations by J. Carter Beard, E. J. Austen, and
+others. $1.50.
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+YOUNG HEROES OF OUR NAVY.
+
+
+_NEW VOLUME._
+
+With the Flag in the Channel.
+
+The Adventures of Captain Gustavus Conyngham. By JAMES BARNES.
+Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.00.
+
+
+OTHER VOLUMES IN THE SERIES.
+
+Illustrated. 12mo. Each, $1.00.
+
+
+Reuben James.
+
+A Hero of the Forecastle. By CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY, Author of "Paul
+Jones." Illustrated by George Gibbs and others.
+
+
+The Hero of Manila.
+
+Dewey on the Mississippi and the Pacific. By ROSSITER JOHNSON.
+Illustrated by B. West Clinedinst and others.
+
+
+The Hero of Erie (_Commodore Perry_).
+
+By JAMES BARNES, Author of "Midshipman Farragut," "Commodore
+Bainbridge," etc. With 10 full-page Illustrations.
+
+
+Commodore Bainbridge.
+
+From the Gunroom to the Quarter-deck. By JAMES BARNES. Illustrated by
+George Gibbs and others.
+
+
+Midshipman Farragut.
+
+By JAMES BARNES. Illustrated by Carlton F. Chapman.
+
+
+Decatur and Somers.
+
+By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL. With 6 full-page Illustrations by J. O.
+Davidson and others.
+
+
+Paul Jones.
+
+By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL. With 8 full-page Illustrations.
+
+
+Midshipman Paulding.
+
+A True Story of the War of 1812. By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL. With 6
+full-page Illustrations.
+
+
+Little Jarvis.
+
+The Story of the Heroic Midshipman of the Frigate Constellation. By
+MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL. With 6 full-page Illustrations.
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+A UNIQUE BOOK.
+
+"_For children, parents, teachers, and all who are interested in the
+psychology of childhood._"
+
+
+The Book of Knight and Barbara.
+
+By DAVID STARR JORDAN. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+The curious and fascinating tales and pictures of this unique book are
+introduced by Dr. Jordan with the following preface: "The only apology
+the author can make in this case is that he never meant to do it. He
+had told his own children many stories of many kinds, some original,
+some imitative, some travesties of the work of real story-tellers.
+Two students of the department of education in the Stanford
+University--Mrs. Louise Maitland, of San Jose, and Miss Harriet Hawley,
+of Boston--asked him to repeat these stories before other children.
+Miss Hawley, as a stenographer, took them down for future reference,
+and while the author was absent on the Bering Sea Commission of 1896
+she wrote them out in full, thus forming the material of this book.
+Copies of the stories were placed by Mrs. Maitland in the hands of
+hundreds of children. These drew illustrative pictures, after their
+fashion; and from the multitude offered, Mrs. Maitland chose those
+which are here reproduced. The scenes in the stories were also
+subjected to the criticisms of the children, and in many cases amended
+to meet their suggestions. These pictures made by the children have
+been found to interest deeply other children, a fact which gives them
+a definite value as original documents in the study of the workings of
+the child-mind. At the end of the volume are added a few true stories
+of birds and of beasts, told to a different audience. With these are a
+few drawings by university students, which are intended to assist the
+imagination of child-readers."
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATED JUVENILE STORIES.
+
+
+Fifty-two Stories for Girls.
+
+Edited by ALFRED H. MILES. Illustrated. 12mo. Ornamental Cloth, $1.50.
+
+A story for every week in the year. The very best present a girl
+could have. A constant reminder of the giver. Fifty-two stories by
+the best English writers, inculcating the love of honor, truth, and
+loyalty. These are such stories as it will do little girls good to
+read. They teach the love of home and many lovable qualities. Among the
+contributors are Margaret Watson, Jennie Chapman, Lucy Hardy, Alfred H.
+Miles, Lucie E. Jackson, and Thomas Archer.
+
+
+Fifty-two Stories for Boys.
+
+Edited by ALFRED H. MILES. Illustrated. 12mo. Ornamental Cloth, $1.50.
+
+A story for every week in the year. The very best present a boy could
+have. A constant reminder of the giver. Fifty-two stories by the best
+English writers, inculcating the love of honor, manhood, truth, and
+patriotism. These are stories which stir the imagination and stimulate
+the reader to try to become a great man himself. Among the contributors
+are Alfred H. Miles, Robert Overton, Lieut.-Col. A. J. Macpherson, G.
+A. Henty, F. M. Holmes, and Grace Stebbing.
+
+
+Fifty-two More Stories for Boys.
+
+Fifty-two More Stories for Girls.
+
+Edited by ALFRED H. MILES. Illustrated. 12mo. Each $1.50.
+
+These two volumes are companions to the two "Fifty-two Stories" books
+published last fall. Each book will contain a story for every week in
+the year, particularly suited to the tastes of young boys and girls.
+The stories are by the best writers and cover a wide range of subjects.
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+APPLETONS' SUPPLEMENTARY READERS.
+
+
+Uncle Robert's Geography.
+
+By the late FRANCIS W. PARKER and NELLIE L. HELM. A Series of
+Geographical Readers for Supplementary Use. Four volumes. Illustrated.
+12mo. Cloth.
+
+    1. Playtime and Seedtime      32 cents.
+    2. On the Farm                42   "
+    3. Uncle Robert's Visit       50   "
+    4. A River Journey            60   "
+
+Uncle Robert teaches children how to read aright the great book of
+Nature. He makes study a pleasure. He teaches geography in the right
+way. He makes rural life and occupations attractive. He has a deep and
+loving sympathy with child-life. He believes in the education that
+strengthens the body as well as the mind. He tells children instructive
+stories to arouse their imaginations and stimulate their observing
+powers. He believes that every normal child may be made useful in
+the world. He has a boundless faith in human progress, and finds his
+greatest hopes in childhood and its possibilities.
+
+=These extraordinarily suggestive little books by the late Colonel
+Parker--one of the most far-sighted students of child-life of our
+day--have approved themselves to thousands of primary teachers. They
+form one of the few successful attempts to incorporate that which is
+close by nature to child perception into the very warp and woof of the
+child mind. They give an intelligible meaning and vitality to the round
+of experiences that come to all normal children in our land.=
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+ Transcriber's Notes:
+
+ --Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_); text in
+   bold by "equal" signs (=bold=).
+
+ --Except for the frontispiece, illustrations have been moved to
+   follow the text that they illustrate, so the page number of the
+   illustration may not match the page number in the List of
+   Illustrations.
+
+ --Printer, punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently
+   corrected.
+
+ --Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.
+
+ --Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.
+
+ --The Author's em-dash and long dash styles have been retained.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of On Your Mark!, by Ralph Henry Barbour
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON YOUR MARK! ***
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