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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7c0a416 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #56215 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/56215) diff --git a/old/56215-0.txt b/old/56215-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 861121c..0000000 --- a/old/56215-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7211 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The School Four, by Albertus T. Dudley - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The School Four - -Author: Albertus T. Dudley - -Illustrator: Charles Copeland - -Release Date: December 21, 2017 [EBook #56215] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SCHOOL FOUR *** - - - - -Produced by Barry Abrahamsen and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - THE SCHOOL FOUR - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - BOOKS BY ALBERTUS T. DUDLEY - - Phillips Exeter Series - - Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth. - - FOLLOWING THE BALL. - MAKING THE NINE. - IN THE LINE. - WITH MASK AND MITT. - THE GREAT YEAR. - THE YALE CUP. - A FULL-BACK AFLOAT. - THE PECKS IN CAMP. - THE HALF-MILER. - - ------- - - Stories of the Triangular League - - Illustrated by CHARLES COPELAND. 12mo. Cloth. - - THE SCHOOL FOUR. - AT THE HOME-PLATE. - THE UNOFFICIAL PREFECT. - - ------- - - THE KING’S POWDER. - - ------- - - LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON. - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - -[Illustration: THE WESTCOTT MAN CLUTCHED THE BALL OVER HIS RIVAL’S -HEAD.] - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - STORIES OF THE TRIANGULAR LEAGUE - - ---------------------------- - - THE SCHOOL FOUR - - BY - - ALBERTUS T. DUDLEY - - AUTHOR OF “PHILLIPS EXETER SERIES” - - ILLUSTRATED BY CHARLES COPELAND - - [Illustration: Publisher’s Logo] - - BOSTON - - LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. - - Published, August, 1909. - - ------- - - All Rights Reserved. - - ------- - - THE SCHOOL FOUR. - - - PRINTED IN U.S.A. - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - PREFACE - -“The School Four” is a story of football and rowing, its scene laid in a -private school in an Eastern city. As in the Phillips Exeter books, the -aim has been to keep the athletics practical and technically correct, -and at the same time to present such conceptions of life and conduct as -may encourage the boy reader to face his own school problems with the -right spirit. Later volumes will treat successively of the city high -school and the country boarding-school. - -To Mr. John Richardson, Jr., captain of the undefeated Harvard crew of -1908, the author owes a special debt for expert counsel, for the freedom -of the Harvard coaching launch, and, above all else, for personal -inspiration. - - A. T. DUDLEY. - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CONTENTS - - CHAPTER I - - JOHN SMITH, PRESIDENT - - CHAPTER II - - THE CUP - - CHAPTER III - - ARCHIBALD DUNN - - CHAPTER IV - - RECRUITS FOR THE FOOTBALL SQUAD - - CHAPTER V - - AT ADAMS’S - - CHAPTER VI - - THE STORY OF JASON - - CHAPTER VII - - SUMNER CHOOSES A SUCCESSOR - - CHAPTER VIII - - A SLIGHTED OFFER - - CHAPTER IX - - THE NEWBURY GAME - - CHAPTER X - - THE SCOUTS BRING NEWS - - CHAPTER XI - - A FRUITLESS INTERVIEW - - CHAPTER XII - - PRESIDENT JOHN’S IDEALS - - CHAPTER XIII - - THE COMMITTEE DECIDES - - CHAPTER XIV - - THE TROWBRIDGE GAME - - CHAPTER XV - - DUNN’S DISAPPOINTMENTS - - CHAPTER XVI - - MIKE ADVISES - - CHAPTER XVII - - A KINDLED AMBITION - - CHAPTER XVIII - - THE SHOOTING MATCH - - CHAPTER XIX - - A LOSS TO THE NINE - - CHAPTER XX - - IN THE PAIR-OAR - - CHAPTER XXI - - THE SECOND CREW - - CHAPTER XXII - - A SHIFT IN THE BOAT - - CHAPTER XXIII - - THE WEAKENED HEART - - CHAPTER XXIV - - THE TRIALS - - CHAPTER XXV - - THE FINAL STRUGGLE - - CHAPTER XXVI - - CONCLUSION - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - ILLUSTRATIONS - - The Westcott man clutched the ball over his rival’s head - - “They ought to tie a string to it and give Fatty the end” - - His feet going like the arms of a hay tedder - - Swung him directly into Hardie’s arms - - And watch the Varsity eight sweep magnificently by - - “Go it, Bainbridge! Kill ’em, Bainbridge!” - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - THE SCHOOL FOUR - - - CHAPTER I - - JOHN SMITH, PRESIDENT - - -THE first suggestion of the Triangular League came from a certain -aspiring and nimble-witted graduate of the Newbury Latin named John -Smith, whose surname, occurring on every page of every daily paper, -should safely conceal his identity from any over-curious reader of this -story. Moreover, it may be asserted with truth that the particular John -Smith who called the first meeting of representatives of the three -schools is not to be found on any of the eighteen pages of Smiths in the -last Boston directory. It is enough for our purpose to know that he -looked over the material in the upper half of the Newbury Latin and -found it to his liking—good for the present and promising for the -future. He considered within himself, with what he imagined to be -uncommon shrewdness, that it is better for a school to be at the head of -a small league than to swell the troop at the conqueror’s heels in a -larger one. His reason for selecting Westcott’s and the Trowbridge -School as complements to the Newbury Latin in this laudably patriotic -scheme was that while they contained decent fellows and were nominally -fair rivals, they were probably beatable without killing exertion. This -last item was not included in the argument for the organization which he -presented to the first meeting. His speech here took loftier grounds, -such as the charms of an alliance between naturally friendly schools, -and the splendid athletic ideals for which the new league would stand. - -Either John Smith’s idea or John Smith’s argument carried weight, for -the league was formed, and the three schools pledged themselves to -maintain it and abide by its rules. In recognition of his unselfish -services in behalf of the cause, and at the suggestion of Mr. Snyder, an -instructor at Trowbridge, who insisted that the direction of affairs -should be in the hands of some mature person, Mr. John Smith was elected -president. It was voted that a managing committee consisting of two -representatives from each school, together with the president, _ex -officio_, should be empowered to draw up rules, arrange schedules, -select officials, and act as general board of control. - -The first meeting of this permanent committee was held at Westcott’s, in -Boston, just before the end of the school year. After the visitors had -departed, Sumner and Talbot remained behind to discuss events from the -Westcott point of view. - -“It’s going to be great!” opined Sumner, with his usual outburst of -enthusiasm for what he approved. “Everything was pleasant and straight, -and nobody tried to get the advantage of anybody else.” - -“I’m not so sure about that,” answered Joe Talbot, commonly called -“Pete.” The origin of this nickname is involved in obscurity. Some boys -derived it from a character in a play; some asserted that Joe’s family -had given him the name in jest when he was a toddler. Steve Wilmot, the -wag of the class, maintained that it was descriptive,—he was called -Pete because he looked Pete,—and this explanation was on the whole -popular, especially as Talbot stoutly protested against it. - -“Why not?” demanded Sumner. - -“I’ve no confidence in that Smith. He’s too oily and smug. He’s got some -scheme he means to work.” - -“Shucks!” retorted Jack. “Your brother Bob has prejudiced you against -him with his talk about that old football squabble. If I were a junior -in college, like Bob, I’d try to forget about school rows.” - -“Those are the things you remember longest,” Pete answered wisely. “You -can’t change the facts, can you? You can’t make a low trick any better -by forgetting it. If it happened, it’s history, as much as Bunker Hill. -It shows the kind of man Smith is.” - -“Was!” corrected Jack. “That was a long time ago, and he’s probably -changed as much as we have since we came into the sixth together. Just -think what little fools we were then, how we thought the verb _amo_ was -too hard to learn, and cried when Mr. Lawton lectured us, and Mussy used -to send us out of French every day for whispering in class.” - -“We weren’t anything but kids then. Neither of us was over twelve.” -Talbot spoke as if seventeen, which was their present age, represented -the climax of maturity. - -“I was just trying to make you see that people change. Smith has changed -too.” - -“Perhaps he has,” growled Talbot, “but I don’t believe it’s for the -better. He’s got us into the league just because he thinks Newbury can -beat us. You don’t suppose he’s doing it out of love for us, do you?” - -“No doubt he thinks we are a good crowd for his school to tie up with,” -answered Sumner, with ready complacency. “I really believe those fellows -would rather beat us than any other school, but that’s because they are -jealous of us. We are only a private school, more than half of us little -kids in knickerbockers, but we have the inside track in Harvard, and -we’re on the top socially. They don’t like that.” - -“It’s the little kids and getting into college so early that spoils our -athletics,” remarked Talbot. “Newbury is a public endowed school with -lots of big fellows who don’t go to college, and Trowbridge is a -boarding-school in the country where the fellows have nothing to do but -play games all day. We aren’t anything but a school building in town and -a playground in Brookline.” - -“And Adams’s,” put in Sumner. - -Adams’s was the house of the instructor who lived at the athletic field. -It contained a schoolroom for such boys as were condemned to prepare the -next day’s lessons before they left the field in the afternoon, and -quarters for a limited number of boarding pupils. - -“Adams’s!” exclaimed Pete. “What good is that? A half-dozen little kids -who play on the fourth or third, and a few older fellows whose parents -are abroad or can’t stand them at home. There wasn’t a fellow there last -year who did anything for the school.” - -“There was Pitkin,” Sumner remarked. “He’d have made the second crew if -he hadn’t caught the measles.” - -“He might,” responded Talbot, in a tone which implied that he probably -wouldn’t. “But what’s Pitkin, anyway?” - -“Ben Tracy is going there next year,” went on Sumner, “and that cousin -Louis of his who lives in Worcester, and some one from New Jersey. There -may be some other new fellows.” - -“The usual orphan asylum!” commented Talbot, savagely. “It’s four to one -that none of ’em will be good for anything. You always see things about -one hundred per cent better than they really are.” - -“That’s not half so bad as seeing them one hundred per cent worse than -they are, as you do, you old growler!” retorted his friend, with a -laugh. - -“They can’t be a hundred per cent worse,” maintained Talbot. “That’s a -logical impossibility. It would bring ’em below the zero point.” - -And then, being boys, in spite of their advanced age and the seriousness -of their interest and the fact that both, avowedly at least, were -putting every available minute into their preparation for the next -week’s battle with the Harvard preliminaries, they wrangled for a good -quarter of an hour over the possibility—logical, actual, or -theoretical—of things being a hundred per cent worse than they were -without reaching the vanishing point. The reader will be spared this -argument. If he is a boy, he can manufacture it for himself; if a -grown-up, he has only to listen quietly to a knot of boys waiting in -idleness for a bell to ring or a train to appear, and he will understand -how it is done. - -When the discussion had run its length, they recurred naturally to the -first theme of conversation. It was Pete who reintroduced the topic of -the new league. - -“Whether Smith is straight or crooked,” he said, “he certainly expects -his school to come out ahead. I’d give something to beat him at his -little game.” - -“Wouldn’t it be great!” Sumner’s exclamation was like an anticipatory -smack of the lips; his eyes were fixed in a fervent but unseeing stare -on the blank wall, his face beamed with delight at the mental foretaste -of the joys of triumph. “We may do it, too!” - -“And we may not!” answered Talbot, rising. “Let’s get after those French -sentences.” - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER II - - THE CUP - - -WHATEVER his faults, the president of the new league possessed -unquestionably the virtue of activity. While the Westcott boys, -scattered up and down the coast from Long Island Sound to Bar Harbor, -were amusing themselves in their own idle but wholesome -fashion,—camping, cruising, racing boats, playing tennis matches, and -exchanging visits,—Mr. John Smith was devoting his surplus energy to -the cause. One tangible result of his labors formed the basis of much -curious questioning when Westcott’s gathered at the end of September for -the year’s work. A prize was to be offered to stimulate interest in the -contests of the league. Though many of the Westcott graduates had been -laid under contribution and might be supposed to know definitely the -purpose for which their money had been expended, it was soon discovered -that no one possessed information extending beyond the statements in the -newspapers. These began with encomiums on Mr. John Smith for his -enthusiastic and efficient services and the success with which he had -“rallied about him his hosts of friends”; they ended with -congratulations to the new league on having a man of Mr. Smith’s caliber -and influence at its head. In between was sandwiched the meagre news -that a cup was to be competed for by the schools on terms to be -announced later. - -But Westcott’s had no notion of waiting until later. The boys stirred up -the contributing graduates, and the graduates addressed to Mr. Smith -certain pointed inquiries which suggested to the astute leader that it -would be wise to announce the conditions immediately, even at the risk -of losing some advantage for his own school. He appeared, therefore, at -Westcott’s, one day during the second week of the term, bearing a big -box of tinted cardboard, and made a speech to the assembled school in -which he set forth the conditions of the gift and the high hopes of the -givers. Then, with great impressiveness and in the midst of quivering -expectancy, he removed the cover of the box, undid a bag of canton -flannel and held forth the glittering thing to the general admiration. - -“To remain from year to year in the possession of the school which shall -last have won it, and to be held permanently when three times won.” - -To this announcement the school gave bountiful applause. The older boys, -though harassed by grave doubts of their ability to fulfil the -conditions, understood the privilege offered them and were grateful; -while the knee-trousered, flattering themselves with the assurance that -the splendid, two-handled vase, like a reward for good behavior, must -ultimately be theirs, smote their hands together long and violently. -Whereupon Mr. John Smith, who showed himself to be a sharp-featured, -somewhat over-dressed young man, with no semblance of that personal -diffidence with which great men are often handicapped, smiled blandly, -restored the treasure to its double envelope, shook hands with Mr. -Westcott, gave the school another benevolent and congratulatory smirk, -and departed—bearing his cup with him. - -At the recess period for the first and second, four fellows took places -round the small table in the corner of the lunch room; a fifth seized a -chair and pushed in among them as if he belonged there. Others bought -themselves handfuls of munchable food at the other end of the room and -hurried to get a position at the railing which separated the -hot-lunchers from those who patronized the counter. The confusion of -half a dozen talking at once obscured the opening of the discussion. - -“The crew’s in it. That’s good for us,” declared Rolfe, getting the -first hearing in the babel. “We’ll trust you to win that for us, Pete.” - -Talbot, the captain of the crew, would probably have disputed this loud -assumption if he had been given an opportunity to speak; but others were -readier of tongue. - -“And the track’s out!” cried Seamans. He held a sandwich untasted within -three inches of his lips and stared over the railing into Rolfe’s face -with an expression of disgust. - -“Bad for you, Sim,” called out Jack Sumner. “You’ll have to go in for -baseball.—Some soup, please.” - -“Newbury lost all her track men last year, that’s why the track’s out.” -Talbot had found his tongue. - -“That’s not the reason,” proclaimed Sumner. “Mr. Westcott doesn’t -believe in track work for schoolboys. He thinks it’s too much of a -strain for young fellows like us. Your brother Bob has the same idea. He -told me just the other day that it usually spoiled fellows for college -running.” - -“Smithy would have put it in all the same, if Newbury had any show for -it.” - -“I don’t quite understand about those conditions,” came from the lips of -a boy at the railing, who was poising a buttered bread stick before a -broad, big-featured face crowned with shaggy hair. - -“You never understand anything, Fluffy,” cut in Wilmot. “A fellow who -asks ‘why’ about the laws of falling bodies—” - -He hesitated, giving Fluffy a chance to ejaculate, “You don’t know -yourself—” - -“And don’t care!” retorted Wilmot. “I know they fall, and there’s a rule -about it.” - -“I don’t mean falling bodies, I mean about the cup!” Fluffy got this out -in the face of a storm that threatened to sweep him the whole length of -the railing. No one wanted to hear a debate between Fluffy Dobbs and -Wilmot on the laws of falling bodies. - -“It’s clear enough,” said Sumner. “There are three sports that count, -football, baseball, and crew. Whoever wins two of them gets the cup for -a year. The school that gets it three times has it to keep.” - -“Do you understand that, Fluffy?” called Wilmot. “Because if you don’t, -we’ll get you a map and a guide-book.” - -“But supposing each of the three schools wins at one sport?” proposed -Fluffy, undisturbed by Wilmot’s jeers, to which he was evidently well -accustomed. - -“No score!” returned Sumner, quickly. - -“Are they going to have special crew races with Newbury and Trowbridge?” -asked Tracy. - -“No, we all row in the Interscholastic.” - -“Then the first thing for us to do is to win at football,” said Trask. -“It’s up to you fellows to start the thing right.” - -“Easy enough for you to say when you don’t play,” said a tall, wiry, -light-haired boy who up to this time had been listening in silence. -“Give us the material, and we’ll do it. We can’t make bricks without -straw.” Harrison was captain of the eleven. - -“Oh, yes, you can, only it’s harder. A really good captain could make a -team out of ’most anything. Any fool captain can win with a bunch of -stars.” Wilmot’s significant grin disarmed this seemingly insulting -remark of all its sting. Everybody respected Eliot Harrison, and Wilmot -enjoyed a liberty of his own. - -“The lot we had out yesterday was more like a flock of goats than a -bunch of stars,” growled Pete. - -“A goat ought to be mighty good in the centre of the line,” said Wilmot, -reflectively. “He could butt a hole right through the other side, and -that’s about all guard and centre have to do. Now if you could only get -a few good butting goats into the line—” - -“Or teach your own goats to butt,” suggested Tracy. - -Wilmot slammed the table. “That’s the best idea yet! Get a goat as -assistant coach, a good old side-hill, can-eating, whiskered billy -that’s practiced butting from his youth up. He’d show the line how to -open holes!” - -The audience warmed noisily to Wilmot’s proposition. - -“He’d look fine on the side-lines, wouldn’t he?” This sarcastic comment -came from sober-faced little Stanley Hale of the sixth, whose class, by -the necessities of the school schedule, shared the recess hour of the -older boys. The influence of the kindergarten and the fairy tale was -still effective in Stanley’s mind. Ideas still translated themselves for -his intelligence into pictures, and the picture of the goat stood out -vividly before him. - -“He could be a mascot, Stan,” said Sumner, turning to smile at Stanley. - -“He’d be a great help in the cheering,” went on Wilmot. “The sixth could -give him lessons. He’d cheer bass to their soprano.” - -By this time there was a general and hilarious interest in the -development of Wilmot’s suggestion which rendered impossible all serious -discussion of the morning’s announcement. Foolish jesting became -epidemic, and wit soon ran into silliness. Two boys showed no -disposition to share in the levity. Harrison smiled but rarely, and then -feebly and against his will; Talbot’s scowl grew deeper and blacker as -Wilmot’s fancy spread from the centre, where it had originated, out into -the ranks of the clumsy-wits who seized upon it with rough hands, tossed -it to and fro, squeezed it dry of whatever freshness and cleverness it -might have contained, and dropped it in ennui for some new catchword ten -minutes later. - -The bystanders drifted forth for a walk, the sixth ran into the yard and -played goat tag, the pursuer being the goat. - -“I wish you wouldn’t say that kind of thing, Steve,” began Harrison, -when the coast was clear. “It hurts the team to make sport of it or any -one on it.” - -Wilmot opened his eyes. “I didn’t make sport of it. I just offered a -suggestion. You don’t have to take it, if you don’t want to.” - -“We’ve got to have the respect and support of the school if we are going -to do anything,” went on Harrison, trying to be sensible and keep his -temper. “All that talk about goats makes the team ridiculous.” - -“It puts everything to the bad right at the beginning of the season,” -broke in Talbot, roughly. “If you want to spoil all our chances, just -keep it up. You don’t care, of course, as long as you get your fun out -of it, but the rest of us have a little school spirit left and a little -self-respect!” - -“Who introduced the subject, anyway?” demanded Wilmot, triumphantly. “It -was you that did it, and it was you that called the team goats. I just -built on your suggestion.” - -“I won’t argue it,” answered Pete, savagely. “You’d twist my words -against me. But just try the goat business with the crew, and see what -you’ll get. Harry may put up with it if he wants to. I wouldn’t!” - -“Now you’re getting peevish.” Wilmot rose from the table, still keeping -his smile of indifference, but by no means content at heart. “I don’t -like you when you’re peevish!” - -The bell rang; the boys came flocking in and crowded up the stairway. -Harrison took Tracy’s arm as they leisurely followed the stream. - -“Isn’t that new fellow at Adams’s coming out?” - -“Who? Hardie?” - -“Yes. He sat opposite us at luncheon to-day with the kids and didn’t -peep.” - -“He hasn’t said much to any one yet. He’ll be out to-day if he gets his -clothes.” - -“Do you think he’ll be good for anything?” pursued the captain, -anxiously. “We need about six more good men.” - -Tracy gave his chin a side tip that might have expressed doubt, or -merely reserve of judgment. “I don’t know. He isn’t very heavy, but if -you’d seen him chucking trunks around this morning, you’d think him -fairly strong.” - -“Trunks?” - -“Yes, we piled a few in front of his door last night.” - -“It’s a good thing to be strong, but a lot depends on spirit,” began -Harrison. What further he may have intended to say, we shall never know, -for the sight of Mr. Spaulding standing at the head of the stairs put a -sudden gag upon his lips. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER III - - ARCHIBALD DUNN - - -ROGER HARDIE knew absolutely no one at Westcott’s when he moved into his -room at Adams’s that fall. His father was engaged in the Argentine -trade; and the day after Roger was safely established in school the -whole family sailed for Buenos Aires to spend the winter there. He took -his fate stoically, trying hard to persuade himself that he should soon -feel at home, but he could not avoid the sense of isolation and -exclusion which comes naturally to one of a very few new boys among a -great many very intimate old ones; and he lacked entirely the aptitude -for quick friendships. Boys are seldom temperate in their opinions of -their own merits. Eliminate the over-confident who run to freshness and -the under-confident who lack courage to assert themselves, and there -remain but a small percentage who wisely follow the middle course. The -over-modest in the end is likely to outstrip the over-bold, whose rash -spirit is easily broken by unexpected and humiliating defeats. The -average boy, however, takes very little thought for ultimate results. He -lives vividly in the present, is captivated by boldness and dash and -ready wit, ranks caution with timidity, and suspects steadiness to be -mere feebleness in disguise. - -Roger was naturally reticent; he was likewise inclined to regard himself -as neither attractive nor clever. The first impression which he produced -on his mates at Adams’s was that of mediocrity. They took him at his own -valuation and disregarded him. The consciousness that he wasn’t -considered worth while increased his reticence, and at the same time -stirred his obstinacy. He certainly didn’t care for the boys if they -didn’t care for him. He would go one way, and let them go another. - -Hardie’s pique was enhanced by the apparently different reception -accorded to another new Adamsite, Archibald Dunn. As a matter of fact, -the principle followed by the boys in the treatment of the two cases was -identical: each was accepted at the outset at his face value. While -Hardie made no claim to ability, importance, or friends among the great, -Dunn’s method was to assume everything, to throw himself frankly on the -credulity and friendliness of his new companions. Of course he played -football; he had been end on the Westport High School at the beginning -of last season, but a shoulder bruise got in the practice had thrown him -out of the regular games. He liked baseball better; he and a friend of -his, who made the Yale Freshmen, used to be the battery of a corking -little nine they got up at their summer place. His favorite sport was -automobiling; in his first half-hour in Tracy’s room he told five -astonishing stories of marvellous escapes from death or the police. He -sailed, too,—used to take charge of his uncle’s forty-footer in -cruises. Dunn’s manners were undeniably easy. In twenty-four hours he -knew all the small boys at Adams’s by their nicknames, and treated the -older ones as if they were intimates of years’ standing. - -The Tracys, Ben and Louis, might smile a little incredulously at the -broadest of Dunn’s claims, but he amused them, and, provisionally at -least, they accepted him. “He’s good sport, anyway,” said Ben, on the -second day of school, while describing the Adams household to Sumner. -“He can talk more than any person I ever saw, and he likes himself to -beat the band, but he seems to be a good fellow to have round.” - -“What about Hardie?” - -“Oh, he’s a zero, a good little boy that never speaks unless he’s spoken -to. He sat up in his room all last evening, grinding at algebra and -Latin. Just think of being so fierce about the first day’s lessons!” - -“All the new ones do that,” opined Sumner; “they’re scared.” - -“Dunn didn’t. He loafed round Louis’s room, telling stories, the first -two hours, and spent the rest of the evening looking for a trot to -Xenophon. He says it’s a waste of time trying to get along without one.” - -“Flunked to-day, didn’t he?” - -“Don’t know. He’s not in any of my classes.” - -By favor of chance, Dunn did not flunk. He was called up in Latin on -grammar questions which he happened to know. Hardie did not escape so -easily. His lot fell upon a difficult passage which in his preparation -he had not fully understood. Confused by the new surroundings and -agitated by a nervous eagerness to do well, he floundered along like a -pig in the mud, getting nowhere and accomplishing nothing but the -amusement of a cruelly grinning class. - -To escape unscathed without having prepared a lesson was, of course, a -piece of good fortune which a boy could not expect to experience often. -Before the week was out, Dunn had been pretty well gauged by his -teachers, and one of the most conscientious had already begun in the -simple old-fashioned way—which Dunn reviled as antiquated—to detain -him after school to make up neglected work. But what he lost in prestige -by classroom deficiencies—boys never charge such failures up against a -good comrade—he made ample amends for by marked success on the football -field, where he was generally regarded as the most promising addition to -the available material which the new season had brought. - -Here Dunn’s own lively tongue had prepared for him a favorable -reception. While he did not actually declare himself a great player, his -ready vocabulary of football terms, his anecdotes of games which he had -seen or taken part in, the air of familiarity with styles of play which -he showed—all marked him as a veteran. Besides this, he was an end, and -the eleven lacked an end. With Harrison, the captain, at one extremity -of the line and Dunn at the other, the two important wings of the -fighting force would be well equipped. The idea pleased the school fancy -and produced a strong prejudice in Dunn’s favor. The boys believed in -him because they needed him, and it was more agreeable to believe than -to doubt. - -The first week’s work on the football field, as every one knows, is -largely concerned with the individual elements of the game,—tackling, -dropping on the ball, running down under punts, charging. Through these -Dunn’s self-confidence and previous experience carried him with flying -colors. He threw himself on the ball with admirable spirit; and the way -in which he scampered down the field after punts, getting the direction -of the kick by a single, quick, accurate glance over his shoulder, and -fairly hugging the waiting receiver, was a joy to the beholder. In open -work he was not quite so successful. He missed a few hard tackles, but -he made some good ones, and the balance remained in his favor. Talbot -was so malevolent as to remark that Dunn got the smaller fellows and let -the big ones by, but Talbot was from aye a surly growler. The opinion -which Dunn himself delivered in the dressing rooms after the first -tackling practice found by far the wider acceptance. - -“Nobody can tackle in the open in cold blood,” he averred. “A fellow -might get his man every time in a game when he feels the excitement and -forgets everything but the play, and yet miss every tackle when you put -him out to show what he can do. There was a half-back we had in school -who afterwards made the Dartmouth eleven; he couldn’t make one out of a -dozen of those practice tackles. They’re dangerous, too. If I was a -coach, I’d cut ’em out altogether.” - -After the middle of the week there were short line-ups in which Dunn -played left end. Behind him was all the superior weight and prestige of -the first backs, and before him as opposing tackle only “Skinny” -Fairbanks, who had barely made the third the year before. Dunn’s work -here was of the lively, striking kind that sets partial spectators agog -with delight. He shoved Fairbanks back for holes as if Fairbanks were a -dummy. When the ball by way of variety was given to the second, he lay -outside like a keen-eyed bird of prey and fell upon the fearful -seconders with a sudden, calamitous swoop. Hardie stood on the -side-lines the day before the first real game, and reproached himself -for a feeling of envy. Apparently he and Dunn had started fair in school -but a few days before, and now Dunn was leagues beyond him. He felt -inclined to send word to the dilatory outfitter that he shouldn’t want -any football clothes at all. - -Then on the first Saturday came the game with the Suffolk school, which -Newbury had just soundly beaten. It was a discouraging contest that took -the fire out of the hearts of the players and set the school to jesting -about the team. Westcott’s won in the last five minutes through a long -run by Harrison, who got the ball on a fumble and carried it half the -length of the field; but the record of six to nothing looked very small -alongside of Newbury’s twenty-six to eight. The plan of the coach had -been to push the attack generally through the left side of the line -behind Eaton and Dunn; and when Suffolk had the ball to concentrate the -secondary defence behind centre and right, leaving the strong wing to -make its own resistance. The scheme did not work, and after much waste -of time was abandoned. Holes did not develop where they were expected, -and Suffolk pounded the left with great success. The fault was not easy -to place. Dunn seemed so devoted to playing a safe outside that he -rarely got into the path of the Suffolk runner; and the Suffolk right, -it was generally conceded, had been greatly strengthened since the -Newbury game. Two bad fumbles that lost Westcott the ball at critical -moments were charged against Horr, the half-back. - -“You could have saved us the ball both times if you’d only dropped quick -enough!” Talbot remarked with undisguised frankness to Dunn, as the team -walked moodily into the dressing rooms after the game. - -“I couldn’t, really!” protested Dunn. “Once some one piled into me just -as I was going to drop, and the other time I tried to pick it up because -I had a clear field, and my foot slipped. It was the correct thing to -do, wasn’t it, Harry?” - -“I didn’t see,” answered the captain. “I thought you might have got -Jefferson, though, on that crisscross.” - -“The end blocked me off just as I was going to tackle. Eaton really -ought to have taken him.” - -“It’s your business not to be blocked off!” snapped Talbot. - -“Shut up, Pete!” called the captain. “What’s the good of kicking now? -None of us played well.” - -“My playing was rotten, I know,” rejoined the pessimist, “but I don’t -shirk the responsibility for it.” - -“It takes time for a team to get shaken together,” said Dunn. “We’ll all -do better when we’ve had more practice.” - -Dunn’s remark showed a forgiving and conciliatory spirit that by all the -rules of story-book morality should have extracted from a contrite -Talbot an apology; but the surly half-back went his way unappeased. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - RECRUITS FOR THE FOOTBALL SQUAD - - -ON the following Tuesday—the day of the imposing appearance before the -school of President John Smith—Hardie, having at last secured his -playing clothes, presented himself on the field. His arrival aroused no -very flattering comment, partly because nothing in particular was -expected from him, partly because of the company in which he came. -Saturday’s disappointment had caused a flurry of energy on the part of -the football leaders, and the school had been sifted anew for material. -As a result Fat Bumpus was strained out, and little McDowell, who, -though lithe and sinewy as an alley tomcat, and eager as a hound tugging -at the leash, was manifestly below the standard of weight. He came via -the third team, on which he had distinguished himself in the game with -Wood’s third, played on the Saturday on which the first had failed so -conspicuously at Suffolk. These three, Bumpus the fat, McDowell the -small, and Hardie the unpretending, formed the last group of recruits -available to reënforce the battle line of Westcott’s. - -The side-line comments would have been sufficient to put all three to -speedy flight, if the contemptuous words had reached their ears. Stover, -the ball player, stood with Hargraves who didn’t like football and -Reeves whose forte was dancing and “fussing,” and made very merry over -the faults of their schoolmates, dwelling with unwearied if not -brilliant wit on the appearance of the newcomers, and enjoying the -audience of gaping small boys who surrounded them. - -“They ought to tie a string to it and give Fatty the end,” said Stover, -as Bumpus groped sprawling after the ball which Harrison had rolled -toward him. “It’s cruelty to animals to make him root around like that.” - -“The best way would be to put him sideways in the line on his hands and -knees. No one could get past him then,” remarked Reeves. - -“They’d have to call time to get him up again.” - -“Did you see that?” broke in Hargraves. “Hardie got the ball at the -first try!” - -“It must have been an accident; he hasn’t sand enough in him to do it -purposely.” This was Stover’s opinion. - -A furious but futile charge on the part of Marshall, a clumsy but -energetic hanger-on of the second, drew the fire of the trio. “That’s -the spirit!” chuckled Hargraves. “Dig up the dirt with your face, my -boy! Football is the game!” - -“There goes Mac!” cried a shrill voice close at hand. - -“McDowell the infant wonder,” commented Stover, as the boy dropped -sharply and cleanly on the ball, falling along knee, thigh, and hip, in -one continuous and perfectly easy motion. - -“What’s the sense in wasting time on a kid like him?” muttered Reeves. -“Firman of Newbury would carry half a dozen of him on his back.” - -The coach evidently had his own views as to the usefulness of McDowell, -for he made the boy repeat his performance several times to show the -less skilful how the trick should be done. Meantime Talbot, who was -catching punts, drew over near the criticising group, and the comments -became less audible. As regards side-line ridicule, Talbot held forcible -opinions which he had no hesitation in expressing nor reluctance to -defend. The trio moved farther down the line, and their wit flowed anew. - -[Illustration: “THEY OUGHT TO TIE A STRING TO IT AND GIVE FATTY THE -END.”] - -All three of the newcomers got into the line-up of the second that -afternoon. Bumpus thrashed about with more uproar than success at guard, -while McDowell and Hardie were placed at right end and right tackle -respectively. Harrison gave them a general exhortation to “play sharp -now,” and Talbot urged Hardie in specific terms to “get right into -Dunn.” - -“You can manage him all right, if you stand right up to him,” he said. -“Forget everything but the play!” - -Hardie nodded gratefully. He felt no fear, nor was he by any means new -to football, but he was conscious that the school did not expect much of -him, and the personal interest of an important fellow like Talbot was, -therefore, especially gratifying. In the big athletic school from which -he had come to Boston, he had learned to think modestly of his prowess. -While he had made his class eleven there, the school team lay beyond all -reasonable hope. It was not easy for him to think of himself as ‘varsity -material, even at Westcott’s! - -Talbot kicked off, the ball sailing over Roger’s head down into -McDowell’s territory. Lingering long enough to see the boy gather in the -ball and tuck it safely under his arm, Hardie ran forward at -three-fourths speed to take the first onset of the school linesmen and -permit Mac to slip by. The first comer was Dunn, who caromed off Roger’s -shoulder without so much as touching the runner. Eaton, the left tackle -of the first, McDowell dodged by an abrupt stop and a dart outside; and -beyond Eaton again, Hardie was at his side to take Channing, the right -guard. The two disentangled themselves and followed after as McDowell -zigzagged on, emerging from between Lowe’s hands and leaving Talbot on -the ground behind him. Sumner, the quarter-back, at last drove him -outside at the forty-yard line. - -The coach carried the ball in and put it down for the scrimmage, first -giving the little end a deserved compliment, and then scoring the first -severely for careless tackling. The glory of the second faded quickly. -The quarter fumbled and lost a yard. Bumpus let Eaton through on the -waiting half; the third down was followed by a feeble punt which Sumner -ran back twenty yards. Then came a quick reversal. The first had the men -and the signals. The ball was pushed rapidly through the centre, through -the right side, again through the centre and again through right. At a -new signal Hardie caught a change of expression in Dunn’s face, and knew -that his own turn had come. - -“Look out, Mac!” he shouted, and leaped for his opening with the first -movement of the ball. Dunn held him but an instant; with a side buffet -of the open hand the new tackle slipped by, ruined the interference, and -drove the convoy straight into Mac’s sure grip. - -“This feels like it again,” Roger said to himself as he took his place -once more. “They’re not up to a Hillbury class team after all.” - -“Whose fault was that?” demanded the coach. - -“Mine!” said Talbot, shortly. - -Hardie looked in wonder over at the friendly half-back. It wasn’t -Talbot’s fault, or at least not primarily. Dunn had failed to block his -man, Talbot only to make his protection wholly effective—a difficult -task at best. The essential weakness lay with Dunn. - -“Tackle and end must take care of the opposing tackle,” said the coach. -“Get down in front of him, Dunn, spread your elbows, dive into him with -your shoulder, but _hold him_—you hear?” - -“He started before the ball was snapped,” pleaded Dunn. - -“Shut up! Play the game!” commanded Talbot. “I said it was my fault.” - -They bucked the centre once more, by way of variety, and then made -another trial of the left side. Horr went ahead to push out the end, and -Talbot carried the ball. This time Dunn made frantic efforts to hold his -man by use of body and arms without much regard for the rules of the -game; but Hardie, keeping him at arm’s length, made a dash at the runner -that staggered him, and the line half-back laid him low. At the third -attempt Dunn and Eaton together contrived to box the second tackle, and -the play went through, over the line half-back. - -Mr. Adams, who feared overdoing at the beginning of the season, cut into -the coach’s programme after the first had made two touch-downs, and put -an end to the practice. Bumpus limped in like an exhausted dray-horse, -sweating at every pore. Stover and Hargraves hailed him as he crossed -the road to the dressing rooms. - -“How’d you like it, Bump?” asked Stover. “You look warm.” - -“You played a bully game,” said Hargraves. - -“Did I?” Bumpus gave them a glance of suspicion. “It didn’t seem so.” - -“It was great playing,” continued Stover. “Going to keep it up?” - -“Of course he is!” interrupted Harrison, as he came up from behind. -“Bump won’t go back on the school as long as it needs him.” - -“That’s right!” said Bumpus, beaming with his whole red, swollen face. -“I’m not stuck on the game, but if you really think I’m any help, I’ll -come out till the end of things!” - -“That’s the talk,” answered Harrison. “I wish you fellows showed as good -a spirit.” - -“We’ve been trying to encourage him,” claimed Hargraves. “What more do -you want?” They went off, snickering, to Stover’s automobile. - -Inside the dressing rooms, boys shouted and jested and laughed over -their bathing and dressing. Talbot leaned a smooched arm and a grimy paw -on the top of a locker, and smiled across at Hardie. - -“You’ve played football before.” - -“Only on a class team at Hillbury.” - -“That’s more than most of us have done. You ought to make our team -easily.” - -“I’d like to,” said Hardie, wistfully. - -“Ever play end?” - -“That’s where I’ve always played.” - -“See here!” Talbot raised his eyes level with his companion’s and gave -him a square, direct look. “We need just the kind of fellow you are, but -Harry doesn’t know it yet. You keep your mouth shut, play for all that’s -in you, try to do what the coach tells you, and you’ll make the team -before the first league game. Understand?” - -“Yes.” - -“All right.” Talbot turned toward the door. “Where’s that ’Lijah with -the towels? He hasn’t given me a clean one for two days.” - -A sober-faced negro with close-cut side whiskers appeared round the -corner. - -“Aren’t you going to give me a clean towel, Lije?” - -“Not ontil you pay me,” returned Elijah. “I ain’t trustin’ nobody this -year.” - -“You old Shylock!” grumbled Talbot. “I’ve only got five cents, and I -want that for car-fare.” - -“I’ll lend you a quarter,” proposed Hardie, eagerly. - -“Thanks. He’s more generous than you are, ’Lijah. He’ll lend me a -quarter, and you won’t trust me for a towel.” - -“He’s new here,” answered Elijah, solemnly, as he handed over the clean -towel and pocketed the quarter. “If he’d lost as much by you fellows as -I have, he wouldn’t lend you a cent.” - -“That pays for a week, now, Lije,” urged Talbot. “Don’t forget!” - -“I never forgets. It’s you that forgets;” and the janitor went forth to -seek other business opportunities. - -“A good fellow Lije is, but he’s too avaricious,” commented Talbot, -hurrying for the shower. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER V - - AT ADAMS’S - - -HALF an hour later, Roger Hardie was giving the last tug to his necktie -before a square of looking-glass that still adhered to the end of the -locker tier near the window, and Talbot, swinging a couple of books by a -strap, lounged near. Eaton was getting into his clothes a few feet -distant, bravely chanting away on a ragtime song in the face of derisive -comments from Wilmot, the manager, who sat on the bench nursing a couple -of footballs. Farther down, Dunn’s tongue was running wild before an -audience of worthies of uncertain intent, whose grins might denote -either innocent amusement or guile. Harrison was minding his own -business in his usual quiet fashion. - -“That’s the second time my socks have disappeared!” sputtered Dunn. -“This is the worst gang of thieves I ever got into. You couldn’t keep a -thing here if you had a steel vault and a watchman.” - -“You’ve probably got ’em on,” suggested Wilmot. - -As Dunn had very little on, and was notably bare as to feet, this -suggestion could not have been serious. He glanced down, none the less, -and earned thereby a unanimous jeer. - -“I don’t see how you could lose them,” observed Sumner. “They’re the -most conspicuous things in school. I recognized you by ’em this morning -a block away, before I could see your face.” - -“Oh, you did!” was the best Dunn could do in rejoinder. - -“I never saw anything like them but once,” Wilmot observed thoughtfully. -“A clown had ’em on in the circus. They seemed all right there.” - -“They cost two dollars, anyway!” ejaculated Dunn, who was turning over -football trousers on the floor and kicking shoes into corners. - -“Tyrian purple always did come high,” Wilmot said softly. “Aren’t you -ready yet, Jim? This excitement is getting on my nerves. I feel as if -there was an officer here with a search warrant. Perhaps Lije took ’em, -Dunn. He might use ’em for a necktie.” - -“If I could find the fellow who swiped ’em, I’d use _him_ for a -necktie!” exploded Dunn. “It’s a low-down trick to hide a man’s clothes. -No one but a kid would do it. You fellows belong with the rubes who tie -knots in shirts at the village swimming-hole!” - -This violent arraignment awoke new chuckles of merriment. Dunn was -becoming interesting. - -“That’s a good suggestion,” said Wilmot. “Harrison might try that next -time.” - -“Shut up, Baldie, and get dressed!” admonished Ben Tracy, in a low tone. -“You’re playing right into their hands. You don’t need the socks to get -to your room.” - -At this advice, the wisdom of which he recognized, Dunn smothered his -indignation and went on with his dressing in silence. The crowd, -perceiving that the fun was over, began to scatter. Eaton put on his -coat and turned to Wilmot. “All ready, Steve! Come on, Pete!” - -“I’m going up to Hardie’s room for a while,” said Talbot, who had been -talking in the corner with Roger. - -Wilmot slid over toward the door. “There are your socks on the bench, -Dunn!” called Eaton. - -“I must have been sitting on them all the time,” Wilmot explained -contritely from the doorway. “I felt something hot under me. Hope I -didn’t hurt them.” - -“They seem all right, just as bright and sporty as ever. Want ’em, -Dunn?” Eaton held out the lost socks toward their owner; but Dunn, -having definitely adopted a policy of indifference, turned his back on -his tormentors and continued the conversation with Tracy as if he had -lost all interest in the object of dispute—in the end taking possession -of his property without let or hindrance. - -Talbot, having explained the point in physics which was the nominal -object of his call on Hardie, sat by the window and talked about school -affairs. - -“The trouble with our athletics is that we are in a big city,” he said, -“with lots of interesting things to take up our time outside of school. -Then we’re mostly too young to be very serious about anything. In the -big schools like Hillbury the fellows are older; and in the -boarding-schools they haven’t any outside attractions nor any liberty, -and there’s really nothing else to do but play something.” - -“You always have men on the college teams,” remarked Roger. - -“Oh, they do well in college, but they’re more mature then. Here there’s -always a whole lot of fooling going on such as you saw this afternoon. -You can’t change a fellow like Wilmot. He’s an awfully nice chap, but -he’s never serious, and he spoils the atmosphere for the hard, -determined kind of work that makes good teams.” - -“Harrison seems serious enough,” said Hardie. “I should think he’d make -a mighty good captain.” - -“That’s right! He’s about the best fellow we’ve got. That’s the reason I -had hopes of the football, but it looks now as if it was going in the -same old way. If we could only win in football, we could go to work with -more courage on the crew.” - -“The crew is always good, isn’t it?” - -“We seem to do better with rowing than anything else. There’s no fooling -there, I can tell you. From the time you lift out the boat until you put -her away on the supports there isn’t a minute wasted.” - -“I should think it would be monotonous, just pulling an oar with the -same motion all the time. Of course the race is exciting, but the -training must be terribly tiresome.” - -“That shows you’ve never tried it,” answered Talbot, laughing. “The race -is hard and disagreeable because you try to pull yourself completely -out, but the practice is fun all the time. We have good coaching, and -every day we try to get into the swing a little better, and overcome -some one of our faults. Then the movement of the boat is fine. You can’t -imagine what a pleasure it is to feel it going under you right—to know -that there is no check between strokes, that everybody is getting away -quick and sharp, and pulling just as he ought to.” - -“I don’t understand,” returned Roger, “but I’d like to try it.” - -“You must come out. You have the right build for rowing.” - -Talbot glanced out at the window and waved his hand at Tracy, who was -crossing the yard to the dormitory. “We’re a long way from that yet,” he -went on. “We might possibly beat Newbury and Trowbridge in rowing, but -we can’t get the cup without football.” - -“There’s baseball,” suggested Roger. - -“No hope there. What can you expect with a fellow like Stover running -things? We never were a baseball school, anyway. It’s the fellows who -play on the corner lots that make the baseball players. Our fellows do -too much sailing and rowing and playing golf in the summer to have time -for baseball practice.” - -He rose to leave. “Just go in hard on the football, and don’t give up if -you don’t get all the credit you deserve. They have a way here of -starting with a team made up on paper and keeping to it through the -season; but it’s a bad custom which I want to see broken. I give Dunn -about three weeks to talk himself off the field. Then if you don’t get -in, it’ll be your own fault.” - -The door closed behind the first really sympathetic visitor Roger Hardie -had yet received. He had been in school long enough to know that the -captain of the crew on the whole outranked any other captain, and that -Talbot, in spite of his marked tendency to see the dark spots in the -future, and to be over-frank in his criticism, was yet one of the -steady-flowing springs of school energy, respected perforce even by -those who did not like him. To have Talbot as a friend was to be sure of -a stout defender, if not of a persuasive advocate. - -Thrilled with gratitude for the attention shown him, his ambition -kindling into flame from the spark of hope which Talbot had struck, -Roger resolved to show himself worthy of his patron’s favor; he would -make something of himself in the school life for the honor of the boy -who had befriended him, if such a result lay within the reach of hard -work, or patience, or devotion. That making something of himself in the -school life meant to him mainly achieving a success in the school -athletics, was but natural. We who are older may rightly insist that -there are other ways of serving one’s school than by scoring touch-downs -or pulling on a winning crew; but a boy cannot be expected to see life -through the spectacles of the aged. He must grow through his own ideals, -not those of his parents. If his opinion as to the importance of -athletics is a fallacy, it is at least a far more wholesome one to hold -than many cherished by adults. - -Roger held his head higher than usual as he went downstairs to dinner, -and in his plain but not unintelligent face the look of stolidity had -given place to a brighter expression. - -“I was glad to see you playing to-day,” said Mr. Adams, pleasantly. “It -seemed to me that you were starting in very well.” - -“Thank you,” returned Roger, quietly. - -“Didn’t you say you hadn’t played before?” asked Ben Tracy. - -Hardie shook his head. “I didn’t mean to. I’ve never played on a school -team. At Hillbury I played end on my class team in some of the games.” - -“That’s not bad,” said Louis, with respect. “They have great class teams -at those schools.” - -“It isn’t like playing on a school team, though,” offered Dunn. “You -don’t have any great responsibility.” - -“The class feeling is pretty strong sometimes,” replied Roger, “and the -games are always hard.” - -“I liked the way you got into the play,” said Mr. Adams. “The house -ought to give a good account of itself on the playground this year.” - -“I couldn’t do anything at all to-day,” observed Dunn. “I have to feel -just right to do myself credit. I didn’t sleep very well last night.” - -Redfield exchanged a glance of intelligence with Louis Tracy. They knew -what had disturbed Dunn’s slumbers,—the memory of a late lunch in -Number Six. - -“You must be careful about food and bed hours if you want to be in good -condition,” observed Mr. Adams, apparently oblivious to the exchange of -messages. “It takes some self-control to keep in training with a pocket -full of money.” - -“I’d like to have a chance to try it once,” sighed Redfield, to whose -mind the suggestion of a pocket full of money conveyed the idea of a -continuously replenished supply. Much of his allowance never reached his -pocket at all; it was spent in paying back bills. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - THE STORY OF JASON - - -HARDIE’S appearance on the football field unquestionably raised him from -the condition of nonentity into which he had fallen, but it did not -materially help him to get into the charmed circle of the initiate who -occupied the social centre of the school on a kind of ancestral tenure. -He felt himself an outsider, even more after Talbot had shown him favor -than before, for friendliness on the part of one served only to -emphasize the lack of interest of others. It was not that he was -objectionable or disliked; his schoolmates were merely content without -him, seeing nothing in the newcomer that commended him especially to -their notice. His mother’s name was not on their mothers’ calling lists; -he possessed no cousins or near friends who knew their cousins or -friends; he lacked the ready tongue which creates on short acquaintance -a reputation for wit. He had no special resources to enhance his -attractiveness—no fast auto waiting for him at the corner, no shooting -lodge in the marsh to which his friends might be invited. He was just -plain, undistinguished, unvalued Hardie, a new boy who lived at Adams’s -and played tackle on the second. - -Dunn still floated with the tide. Judgment regarding him was still in a -measure suspended, but aside from Talbot, who was silent about him, and -Wilmot, who jollied him, the trend of opinion was in his favor. As a -prospective member of the first eleven, he possessed prestige, and as a -good-natured loafer whose excuses and garrulity were entertaining, he -appealed to the indiscriminate humor of the mob. But with one of the -smaller, though not altogether impotent, members of the school, he early -fell into conflict. - -“Mike” McKay was a red-headed, freckle-faced, wing-eared urchin, filled -to the brim with activity and energy, who dominated the fifth class. He -lived at Adams’s, and held the proud position of captain and half-back -on the fourth eleven. Mike was no lover of lessons, but they constituted -a part of his day, and with his natural habit of putting into everything -that he undertook all the vim he possessed, he labored on them devotedly -until they were accomplished. Behind Mike in the schoolroom sat -Archibald Dunn. Dunn lacked the zeal of his little neighbor; he could -endure about ten minutes of mental effort at a stretch, after which his -brain demanded rest. In these intervals of rest he often refreshed -himself by slouching down in his seat and bracing his toes against the -chair in front of him, achieving, in the meantime, some distraction by a -languid survey of the room. Mike, intent on the French sentences which -he was laboriously manufacturing, word upon word, like a conscientious -bricklayer, would feel the tip of Dunn’s toe thrust into his exposed -haunch, and violently reacting, would make a scrawl or drop a blot to -disfigure the work of his hands. - -Expostulations served only to convert what had at first been accidental -into a deliberate and repeated annoyance. Dunn had discovered a -diversion for the idle moments of brain recuperation. - -Stung one day by this persecution, Mike turned fiercely and attacked the -exposed ankle of the offender with his pen. A teacher, sharp-eyed but -not far-sighted, caught the boy in the act and gave him long minutes -after school. This result appeared to Dunn exquisitely amusing; he could -hardly wait for the lunch hour to bring him the opportunity of telling -the story. - -“You’d better let Mike alone,” said Ben Tracy. “He’s a miniature -fire-eater when he’s mad.” - -Dunn sniffed contemptuously. “What do I care for him? I could lick a -couple of such little fresh kids with one hand.” - -“He seems to me a rather nice little chap,” Redfield remarked. - -“That shows he isn’t,” answered Dunn. “You never get things right.” - -Silenced by this blunt personality, which Dunn would classify under the -head of wit, Redfield abandoned the conversation and devoted himself to -his luncheon. Bumpus came rolling in just in season to hear Redfield’s -remark and Dunn’s rejoinder. - -“Who’s the nice little chap?” he asked, as he removed one chair and took -possession of the territory belonging to two. - -“You!” sang out Wilmot, giving Bumpus a slap as he tripped past to -another table. - -Bumpus beamed with joy, not at the jest, which indeed was worn as smooth -as a pebble in a pot-hole, but at Wilmot’s cordial manner, and at the -intimacy suggested by the playful tap on the shoulder. Word had gone out -from Captain Harrison that Bumpus was to be encouraged. - -“Captain Mike McKay,” explained Tracy. “Dunn’s got him stung!” - -“You don’t suppose I’m going to have him jabbing pens into my legs, do -you?” protested Dunn, disappointed to be thrown upon his defence when he -had expected to be amusing. - -Of course no one did suppose any such thing, and the conversation -zigzagged gayly off to distant fields. Meantime Mike was temporarily -allaying his indignation by a brisk and noisy game of indoor baseball in -the playroom. Later on he paid his penance with stoicism, working out -half his home arithmetic problems during the period of his detention. - -On the next day Mike endured two or three toe thrusts with Christian -forbearance. By squeezing himself against his desk he could put a -neutral zone between his own person and the convenient range of the -prods. By this pretence of retreat he tempted the enemy into an -incautious advance. To reach his prey in spite of bars, Dunn slid -farther down in his own seat, and bent his foot around the chair back, -so as to come within striking distance. - -Instantly the boy recognized his opportunity. Seizing the foot with both -his nimble hands, he twisted off the shoe and passed it across the aisle -to a faithful clansman, who handed on the emblem of victory to another, -who as speedily got rid of it in his turn. By the time Dunn recovered -himself sufficiently to demand its restoration, the whereabouts of the -shoe was actually unknown to the first plunderer. It ultimately found -its way, wrapped in a page of a returned exercise, to the waste-basket. - -The call to recitation broke in upon Dunn’s efforts, greatly handicapped -by the presence of a teacher at the other end of the room, to make clear -to Pirate Mike the fate in store for him if the shoe were not -immediately returned to its owner. The fifth Latin rose with cheerful -readiness and crowded to the door. Dunn fell in behind them, though he -had no recitation at that time, hoping in the confusion to get his hand -on his enemy. Once out of sight of the room teacher, he pressed on -hotly, scattering the fifth like a flock of sheep, and with an -imprecation on his lips reached for his quarry,—only to be met by the -stern face of Mr. Westcott as he emerged from his room at the foot of -the stairs. - -Dunn was questioned in the office in a most unpleasant secret session, -while the fifth in their Latin room were forced to trace the route -between Mike’s desk and the waste-basket. When the different stations on -this underground railroad were located, and the shoe was produced by the -boy who had consigned it to its last resting-place, the guilty received -the regular penalty for small misdemeanors, and the Latin lesson took -its usual course. - -Dunn’s session was longer. He emerged with a very red face, and sat with -a book open before him, staring angrily and unprofitably at its pages -for many minutes. He was very late for football practice for several -days after, on an excuse that was evidently valid. This, however, might -have been but a passing experience, forgotten in a fortnight, had not a -heartless sally from Wilmot perpetuated the memory of the unpleasantness -and given Mike a telling advantage over his bigger foe. - -As was to be expected, Dunn had no history lesson that morning. He never -did compass more than half a lesson, but to-day he was as ignorant on -the subject of Greek Oracles and Greek Colonization as the Esquimau in -his hut of ice on the edge of No Man’s Land. - -More than this, he showed himself distrait, and totally impervious to -the cleverly pointed shafts with which Mr. Downs sought to pierce a way -to thick-crusted brains. The patient instructor, ignorant, of course, of -the disturbance of the morning, and faithful to duty even under -discouraging circumstances, detained Dunn after the class was dismissed -for recess to admonish him of the evil consequences of idleness and -inattention. As a result, Dunn arrived at the lunch room late, facing -with an uneasy and unnatural grin a full collection of unsympathetic -teases. - -“Jason!” cried Wilmot, loudly. “Beware of the man with one shoe!” - -About one first class boy in five understood the reference, and this one -was immediately besought by his four ignorant companions to explain the -joke, for joke they were sure it must be. Johnny Cable, the book-learned -but otherwise incapable, was in excessive demand for the next few -minutes to clear up the mystery. These few minutes Dunn employed in -strengthening his defence of indifference and preparing himself for the -coming questions as to what Mr. Westcott had said to him, and what he -was going to do to Mike. He answered the questions in very ambiguous -terms, but his threats against the chief agent in his misfortunes were -no less awful because of their vagueness, while the grins of a dozen -fifth class boys at the long table opposite kept his wrath at the -boiling-point. Ben Tracy at last succeeded in diverting the general -interest to Redfield, who had made a new record that morning in the -smashing of glass tubes in the laboratory. - -But the fifth were not to be diverted. They had no need of Cable’s -learning to explain Wilmot’s comparison. Having fought their way, line -by line, through sundry tales of Greek heroes presented in simple Latin, -they knew the stories from end to end. “Jason Dunn!” they whispered -ecstatically to one another along the table. The names fitted as if made -to go together. No combination could be better! - -“We’ll call him Jason after this,” proposed Dickie Sumner, Jack’s -younger brother. “Nobody can help saying it after he’s heard it once.” - -This suggestion was put into practice as soon as the youngsters left the -table. They gathered at the door and sang out in chorus three times -before they scattered: “Jason Dunn! Jason Dunn! What has Jason done?” - -“Fresh little mutts!” exclaimed Tracy, in disgust. “That’s the result of -being tied up with a kindergarten. Let’s go out and wring their necks!” - -“Don’t notice ’em,” said Wilmot. “They’ll forget it to-morrow if you let -’em alone.” - -But the title stuck. Before a week was out, the name, Archie Dunn, or -Baldie Dunn, ceased to be heard on a boy’s lips. It had become Jason -Dunn. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - SUMNER CHOOSES A SUCCESSOR - - -THE first skirmish in the feud that was bound to arise came on the -following day at Adams’s, when a group of fifth and sixth lads, thinking -themselves safe in the shadow of the dormitory, sang out the new -nickname derisively across the field to Dunn. Dunn, who was still in a -state of irritation, and by no means ready, as yet, to accept the -inevitable nickname, made a dash for the group, which broke into -screaming flight round the corner of the locker house. The first lad -whom Jason met as he rounded the corner in full pursuit, was Mike, -engaged in tossing a football against the side of the building. Without -stopping to raise the question whether Mike had been one of the -offenders, Dunn proceeded to the agreeable task of teaching the urchin a -lesson. The boy resisted with hands, feet, voice, and teeth. The older -fellows, hurrying forth at the shrill cries for help, found Mike lying -on his back, like the arms of a hay tedder, squirming to keep his -antagonist at bay and squawking like a hen in distress. - -[Illustration: HIS FEET GOING LIKE THE ARMS OF A HAY TEDDER.] - -The majority of the newcomers lined up in good positions, to enjoy the -amusement which chance had thrown in their way; but Talbot, who had seen -the beginning of the incident from a distance, pushed through the line, -jerked the boy to his feet, and commanded him to stop his noise. - -“He knocked me down when I wasn’t doing a thing!” screamed Mike, weeping -more from rage than because of any hurt which he had received. “Let me -get a stone, and I’ll kill him!” - -“You won’t do anything of the sort,” said Talbot, firmly. He turned to -Dunn. “What’s the row, anyway? What’s the use of pitching into a little -fellow like him?” - -“I’m not going to have him calling me names,” said Dunn, defiantly. “He -thinks because he’s small he can be as fresh as he wants to, without -getting hurt.” - -“I didn’t call him names,” sobbed Mike. “I wasn’t doing a thing.” - -“It wasn’t him,” offered Dickie Sumner, who had been tempted back by -all-compelling curiosity. “He wasn’t with us at all.” - -Talbot turned and seized the rash youngster by the arm. “So it was you, -was it? Now, look here! We aren’t going to have any calling names or any -other freshness from you young kids round this place. If we catch you at -it, we’ll duck you under the cold-water faucet and forbid you the -grounds. Understand?” - -Dickie understood. “All right,” he answered faintly, and tried to pull -away; but Talbot still held him in a tight grip. - -“What do you say, Jack?” he added, turning to Dick’s older brother, who -shared with him the responsibility for order on the grounds. - -“That’s right!” replied Jack Sumner, sacrificing his fraternal -obligation in the cause of justice with surprising equanimity. “He’s a -good one to begin on.” - -Talbot released the youngster, who speedily escaped from the circle of -danger to join his confederates over by the tennis courts, where they -discussed for a time in subdued voices the probability that Pete meant -business. They were soon diverted by tag. - -“All the same, Dunn is a fool to notice them,” murmured Talbot in -Hardie’s ear as they returned to the locker room to finish their -dressing. - -“I don’t believe he can shake off the nickname, now,” said Roger. - -“No, it’s branded in. He isn’t showing much of the good-nature they talk -about, is he?” - -In fact, Dunn’s good-nature didn’t extend far below the skin. It was a -mannerism assumed to win him the popularity which he craved. He was -vain, lazy, and characterless. In the football field his fine physique, -together with the professional air with which he bore himself, for some -time blinded the eyes of critics to his shortcomings. Yards, the coach, -felt sure that something could be made of a man of Dunn’s vigor and -apparent knowledge of the game. Yet a strong player opposite him, or the -grinding strain of an uphill contest, invariably produced slackened -effort and excuses. - -“It’s come to be the weakest place in the team,” said the coach, a few -days before the Groton game. “If we could brace up the left end and -quarter-back, we should have some hope of giving Newbury a tussle.” - -“Is Sumner so bad as all that?” asked Harrison, disturbed. “I thought he -was running the play very well.” - -“He runs the play well enough, but look at the errors! He fumbles, muffs -punts, misses tackles. A quarter-back has no right to do anything of the -kind.” - -“No one plays perfectly,” Harrison hastened to offer in defence of his -friend. “Besides, he’s the only man we’ve got for the place.” - -“Hardie is coming on well,” observed the coach. “He’s going to push Ben -Tracy pretty hard for tackle. We might give him a trial at quarter.” - -“I don’t think he’d do at all,” answered Harrison, quickly. “He’d be -entirely new to the position, and we shall need him as a substitute -tackle before the season is over.” - -The coach considered for a time in silence. Yards was a loyal Westcott -graduate, whose devotion to his school was strong enough to make him -sacrifice his afternoons at the Law School for the sake of helping the -Westcott team. He knew the game well and could teach it, but he lacked -confidence in his own judgment of the comparative merits of individuals, -and he was morbidly anxious to avoid the foolish jealousies which he -remembered as a source of weakness to the school in his own day. It was -clear that Harrison’s heart was set on keeping Sumner in his place. To -insist on a change which would be at best an experiment with an unknown -quantity, and which might give rise to factions, seemed at present -unwise. - -“We’ll give McDowell a chance on the end, anyway,” he said, “and let -Dunn rest.” - -To this proposition Harrison assented eagerly, and went hot foot to warn -Sumner that he must bestir himself if he wanted to keep his post. - -“Am I as bad as that?” asked Sumner, in consternation. - -“You’re not bad, but you’ve got to be better.” - -In place of replying, Sumner swung his sweater to the other shoulder and -gazed, a sober, startled expression in his eyes, across the field. -Harrison stole a side glance at his friend’s face and took his arm -affectionately. “It’s all right, Jack; don’t worry,” he said. “Just play -your best game, and I’ll stand back of you.” - -“You’re wrong there, Harry,” Jack said quietly. “You’ve no right to -stand back of me. My playing has been rotten lately, and I know it. I’m -fumbling punts and missing tackles all the time. If you’ve got some one -else who can do better, I won’t have you keep me on just out of -friendship.” - -“You’re talking rot,” returned Harrison, impatiently. “Stubby Weldon is -no use, as you know perfectly well. There’s no one else.” - -Sumner breathed easier. “I’ll do better if I can,” he said. - -So McDowell went to Groton to play left end, and Dunn was told to stay -at home and rest. He neither stayed at home nor rested. Stover took him -to the game with Hargraves and Reeves in his flyer. He amused himself -watching the play incognito, and got back before the return train -delivered the weary, disheartened team at the station in Boston. - -Westcott’s fared ill at Groton. Sumner’s game was worse than ever. -McDowell strove like a hero against men a whole head taller and many -pounds heavier, tackling fiercely and surely whenever he got within -striking distance of the ball; but his opponents brushed his -interference aside, charged through him in the line and blocked him off -from the play almost at will. The score was eighteen to nothing at the -end of the first half. - -“I can’t do it!” groaned McDowell, as the players tried to hearten each -other during the intermission. “I’m not big enough. Put Hardie in.” - -As Dunn was out, there was nothing else to do. Hardie went in at left -end, and fat Bumpus, who had lost in weight but gained in muscle and -wind by his patriotic exertions on the field, relieved Kimball at guard. -The team sallied forth once more, crestfallen but determined. - -Groton got the ball on Talbot’s kick-off, and tried the old trick of -circling Westcott’s left end, but Hardie could not be disposed of, and -the play came to grief. They bucked the centre, only to find big Bumpus -sprawling effectually in the path. A forward pass found its way into -Horr’s hands. Then Sumner gave the ball to Talbot, who discovered a hole -where McDowell had failed to make one. Encouraged, he repeated the play -and made the first down. A lucky forward pass which, to his great -delight, fell into Hardie’s hands, saved Westcott’s at the next third -down, and carried the ball to the centre of the field. Twenty yards -farther they pressed, and then Talbot was forced to kick. Groton started -on a return journey, which proved to be slow and frequently interrupted. -A fumble by Westcott’s before the goal posts gave the home eleven the -only score which they made during the second half. - -Roger Hardie felt very happy as he took his seat in the barge with his -mates to drive to the station, for he knew, without regard to the -compliments paid him by his polite opponents, that his chance had come -and he had not missed it. - -The leaders, however, were in no exultant mood. Twenty-three to nothing -is a big score for a coach and captain to swallow, especially when it is -clear that two-thirds of it is due to avoidable errors. On the train Mr. -Adams, who had accompanied the team, sat with Yards, Harrison, and -Talbot in a double seat, and tried to point out signs of hope for the -future in the day’s disaster. - -“I should like to suggest two changes,” he said at length, “which may -help the team. One I think you will accept. The other I have my doubts -about.” - -The trio looked at him expectantly. “Hardie should play regularly at -left end,” went on the teacher. “His work to-day was almost equal to -Harrison’s.” - -“Better, sir!” said Harrison, quickly. “We accept that suggestion on the -spot, don’t we, Yards?” - -Yards nodded. “We ought to have had him there before. What’s the other -suggestion,—Bumpus?” - -“No. Bumpus can take care of himself. I want to propose that you try -McDowell at quarter. He’s out of place in the line, but he’s a good -tackler, catches punts well, and has a good head.” - -Talbot looked at Yards, and Yards looked at Harrison, who pressed his -lips together and looked at no one. There was an interval of silence. - -“I don’t see why he should be any better than Sumner!” said the captain, -defiantly. - -“I don’t see how he could be any worse!” ejaculated Talbot. - -“I don’t urge it,” said Mr. Adams, kindly. “I merely suggest it for -consideration.” - -“He couldn’t run the game as Jack does,” said Harrison. - -“He could save touch-downs as Jack doesn’t,” asserted Talbot. “I think -as much of Jack as you do, but my thinking a lot of him can’t make him -play well.” - -“He has been on the team all the season. It is hard to put him off now.” - -“No one stays on the crew because he’s been on all the season—I’ll tell -you that in advance!” blurted Pete, savagely. “I’ll fire myself if there -are four better men.” - -Harrison smiled faintly. “It’s easy to say that now. Wait till spring.” - -“Sh! Here he comes,” exclaimed Yards, speaking for the first time. -“We’ll think it over during the night.” - -Sumner came oscillating down the aisle from the seat which he had -occupied, dismally brooding alone, during half the journey. He stopped -at the end of the double seat and addressed Harrison, but his gaze, as -he spoke, wandered uneasily away over the captain’s head; while his -flushed cheek and hurried tones betrayed the strain under which he had -been laboring. - -“I’ve been thinking the thing all over,” he began, “and I see perfectly -plainly what’s the right thing to do. I’ve gone to the bad in my play. I -know it as well as anybody. I want you to put little Mac into my place -at quarter and give him a good, fair show to prove what he can do. He’s -no good in the line because he’s so light, but he tackles like a little -fiend in the open, and he can catch anything that can be kicked. I could -tell him all he doesn’t know about signals and plays in twenty minutes. -I believe the change would give the team a new start.” - -“By Jove, you’re the stuff, Jack!” cried Talbot, as he clutched his -friend’s hand and gave it a wring. “If we win anything this year, that’s -the spirit that’ll bring it. There’s something in a name, after all.” - -“Give McDowell the place and wrest it back from him,” suggested Mr. -Adams, who felt the tension of the scene. - -“I shan’t wrest it back, if he has a fair show, sir,” answered Sumner, -with a melancholy laugh. - -“We’ll try him, then,” concluded Harrison; “shan’t we, Yards?” - -Yards acquiesced with a vast sense of relief. He had already determined -on this very change, though how he was to bring it about had greatly -perplexed him. Sumner’s magnanimity relieved him of all anxiety. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - A SLIGHTED OFFER - - -ONLY a week remained before the first league game—that with Newbury. -Having already had experience in the position, and being a lad who used -his eyes and ears more than his lips, Hardie needed very little coaching -to fit well into the game at left end. Though he lacked Harrison’s -sureness in play, as well as the instinctive readiness in translating -signals into action which is to be expected of one who has practiced -long in a single position, he was better than Harrison in making holes -and quite as fast in getting down the field. Each showed a fine keenness -of scent after the ball in the enemy’s hands; each was master of the art -which belongs especially to a good end, of appearing where he is most -useful, and not somewhere else. Deprived of the support of the first -team and handicapped by the weakness of the second, Dunn made an -inconspicuous figure in the practice. When on the first, he had at -times, under favorable conditions, shown effective dash and vigor; -degraded to the second, he became sulky and listless. Little remained of -the aggressiveness of the early days but a chronic ugliness which -manifested itself in fault-finding and in the practice of certain mean -tricks which he had learned at a former school. - -Sumner’s conduct stood out in strong contrast. Having undertaken to -furnish the school a quarter-back better than himself, he pushed his -sacrifice to its full limit. He drilled Mac in signals, schooled him in -receiving and passing—a part of the play in which Sumner himself -excelled—and put him in possession, as far as was possible, of such -facts respecting likely plays and dangers to be avoided as his own -experience had furnished. Harrison immediately made him captain of the -second eleven, and in this capacity he went energetically to work to -build up a team which should give the first the best possible practice. -By this course, it is safe to say, he gained more respect among the boys -whose opinion was worth having than if he had kept his place and won a -game. When kid-brother Dick, who, imp-like, found amusement in his -elder’s misfortune, referred slightingly to Jack as having been “fired,” -Mike McKay threatened to lick him on the spot. - -“You’re a big fool, Dick Sumner, or you’d know that it’s a lot harder -thing to get off a team of your own accord when you’re on it, than to -get put on when you’re off. I’d be proud of him if he was my brother. -Besides, he’ll get back.” - -“The team’s playing a lot better since he’s off; everybody says so,” -answered Dick, bound to maintain his position, yet secretly pleased at -this authoritative recognition of his brother’s merits. - -“It isn’t because he’s off, it’s because Jason Dunn’s off. He never was -any good. I knew it all the time. He’s afraid of any fellow his size.” - -Dick had nothing to say in favor of Jason Dunn, so he took another tack. - -“Newbury’ll beat ’em anyway, so what difference does it make?” - -“It may make a lot of difference,” answered the oracle of the fifth. -“Newbury may beat us, and they may not. If big Bumpus doesn’t bust, -we’re going to have a solid line, and the ends are great! It’ll be a -corking game all right, whichever wins. And you don’t want to go around -saying we’re going to be licked!” - -“I don’t say it to anybody but you,” Dick interposed hastily. - -“You don’t want to say it to any one,” continued Mike, with a severity -quite judicial. “Just try to make everybody think we’re going to win. -You know how Phillips had us all scared when the fourth played Suffolk, -with his talk about how big and strong they were, and how we couldn’t -possibly down ’em, and all that, till we lost our nerve and almost let -’em beat us?” - -Dick remembered. - -“It’s the same with the big team; they’ve got to be encouraged. Harrison -deserves it, too, for firing Jason.” - -This principle Mike had an opportunity to put into practice the next -morning when he passed a knot of older boys gathered at the corner of -the school building, where they waited for the nine o’clock bell to ring -and meantime swapped news and jokes and covertly watched the girls who -by twos and threes and fours passed on the other side of the street on -the way to Miss Wheeler’s school. Eaton reached out and seized the boy -by the shoulder. “Ticket for the game?” he demanded. - -“Got one,” said Mike, coolly, shaking himself free. - -“What do you say, Mike,” asked Wilmot; “are we going to beat Newbury?” - -“Sure thing, only they’ve got to get those forward passes down better.” - -“Do you hear that?” called Wilmot, as the boy trotted away. “Mike says -we’re going to win. That settles it. No use to practice any more. It’s -all up with Newbury.” - -“He’s trying to make us win; that’s more than can be said of you,” spoke -Talbot, disapprovingly. - -“What’s the matter with me?” protested Wilmot. “Don’t I spend half my -time tagging round after you fellows as manager?” - -“A bum manager!” grumbled Horr. “Where are those W sweaters?” - -“Mike is doing his little best to build up a school sentiment behind -us,” continued Talbot, “and you—well, you’re laughing at us most of the -time. Mike knows what he’s talking about, too, when it comes to -football.” - -Wilmot assumed an indignant manner. “That’s a base libel. I’m trying to -keep you from being over-confident.” - -The bell rang and the group began to move. “I’d like to see a few signs -of over-confidence,” said Harrison. “Everything seems to me to be going -the other way.” - -For the mid-week practice Yards brought out a team of Westcott graduates -from college, who could furnish to the reorganized school eleven -something sturdy on which to try their plays. Mac ran his game with few -errors and handled punts like a veteran; the ends got three out of four -forward passes; Bumpus wrestled valiantly against a big sophomore in the -line, puffing and blowing and perspiring, but fully holding his own. The -result was in the main encouraging. - -Dunn stood on the side-lines, dressed for play and ready to be called in -if necessary. While he waited and observed the game, jesting aloud with -Stover to show the bystanders how little his spirits were affected by -his retirement from the team, Dunn noticed a stoutly built, showily -dressed man, with a square face darkened by a heavy, close-shaven beard, -who, while following the play, seemed at the same time to be interested -in the conversation around him. Presently the stranger, having -apparently made inquiries concerning Dunn from some of the smaller boys, -called him aside and talked with him a few minutes out of earshot of the -spectators. At the close of the conversation he put a slip of paper into -Dunn’s hand and disappeared. - -Some time later, as Harrison trotted from the field across toward the -locker house, he passed Stover and Dunn going in the same direction. - -“What do you think of Bumpus now?” he called over his shoulder as he -went by. - -“You can make a football player out of ’most any fat old thing,” -returned Stover. “It’s different in baseball. I say, stop a minute, -Harry!” - -Harrison turned round. “What is it?” - -“We want to see you as soon as you get dressed about something -important, very important! We’ll give you fifteen minutes.” - -Before the allotted time was up, the captain emerged from the locker -house, pulling on his coat as he came. Dunn followed him. Stover drew -them both into a corner. “Do you know Jake Callahan?” he asked. - -“The Newbury coach? I know who he is.” - -“He isn’t coach any longer, they’ve fired him,” said Stover. “He was -here this afternoon for a little while watching the game. He picked -Jason out of the crowd and made him a proposition. Go ahead, Jason!” - -“He’s terribly sore on Newbury because they haven’t treated him right,” -explained Dunn, eagerly. “He says he can let us have the diagrams of all -their best plays and the signals for ’em. He doesn’t mean to sell ’em, -he’s just going to give ’em to us; but all the same if they help us, and -we _want_ to make him up a purse of a few dollars on the quiet, he’ll -take it. He left his address with me.” - -Harrison looked from one face to the other, but said nothing. - -“You see, if you had the signals,” continued Dunn, “and knew what the -play was going to be, you could stop ’em wherever you wanted to. Of -course you wouldn’t want to do it too often, or you’d give yourselves -away. It might be better to let only four or five good fellows in on the -thing, and then there wouldn’t be so much danger of getting caught at -it.” - -“We could raise ten or twenty dollars for Callahan among a few fellows -who’d keep their mouths shut,” said Stover. “I’ll attend to that. Yards -needn’t know a thing about it.” - -“Do you think it’s quite—honorable?” asked Harrison, hesitatingly. He -needed no lessons from either Stover or Dunn to appreciate the -advantages to be derived from knowing an opponent’s signals. - -Stover grinned. “Honorable? Sure! Why not? Ain’t it their business to -have signals we can’t discover? Wouldn’t you play for the right side if -some one came and told you the Newbury right tackle was weak? Don’t we -always try to find out what kind of a ball a batter can’t hit?” - -“The cases aren’t similar,” returned Harrison. - -“There’s no use in arguing about it,” said Stover. “It’s nothing to me. -We give you a chance to get the game. You can take it or leave it. I -thought you wanted to win.” - -Wanted to win! Was there anything Harrison at that moment wanted more? -He looked up and caught sight of Talbot and Hardie sauntering past the -corner on their way to Hardie’s room. “Here’s Pete,” said the captain; -“let’s see what he says.” And before the emissaries of the disgruntled -coach could interpose an objection, he had called the pair over and was -bidding Dunn repeat Callahan’s offer. - -Dunn obeyed with alacrity, happy in the conviction that by the service -which he was now rendering, he was taking a long step forward to the -recovery of his lost popularity. As he spoke, growing more and more -eager in the unfolding of the advantages to be gained and the best -method of using the new information, Hardie dropped his gaze to the -ground, where he kicked away impatiently at a stubby tuft of grass, -while Talbot held his eyes fixed on the narrator’s face, his cheeks -darkening and swelling with rising emotion. Slowly Dunn became aware -that the impression which he was making was not the one intended. His -eloquence wavered; his speech dwindled to an abrupt and confused end. - -“Well, what do you think of it, Pete?” asked Harrison, quietly, swinging -round upon his friend. - -“I think it would be a dirty, mean trick!” Talbot burst out in wrathful -staccato. “A hundred victories couldn’t wipe out the disgrace of it!” - -“That’s just my opinion,” declared Harrison. “As you have the man’s -address, Dunn, you’d better write him what we think of his offer.” - -Harrison turned back into the locker house; Talbot and Hardie went off -toward the dormitory. Stover watched the retreating figures for a few -seconds in silence, then emitted a loud, mocking laugh. - -“Have it your own way, you angels, you nice boys, and get slaughtered,” -exclaimed Dunn, in deep disgust. “I’m through with the thing.” - -He crumpled the envelope on which was written Callahan’s address and -threw it on the ground. Several minutes later, when the coast was clear, -a strange boy who had been watching from the outer fence, strolled -across the yard, picked up the twisted scrap of paper, and thrust it -into his pocket. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - THE NEWBURY GAME - - -STOVER, whisking home in his automobile, turned the incident over in his -mind, and decided that he would say nothing about it,—if the others -didn’t,—at least until after the game. The fellows in the influential -set at Westcott’s were terribly sensitive about points of honor, and it -was hardly worth while to risk position by running counter to the -general sentiment in a matter which really didn’t concern him at all. -After they’d lost the game, they might think more highly of his advice. - -Stover himself was firmly imbued with the notion that winning is the -sole test, and reason for existence, of an athletic team. If a team -couldn’t win, in his opinion it might as well disband; there was no -sense in keeping it up. These views he held directly from his father, by -example and precept. Stover, Senior, prided himself on “getting there” -in business. Those who didn’t get there, who got only halfway there, or -refused to sacrifice certain principles in order to get there, were in -his eyes flabby failures. Protests represented but the inevitable wails -of the defeated, criticism the expression of envy; the man who won could -afford to laugh at both. Stover, Junior, accepting fully the idea that -defeat was inherently disgraceful, applied it to his own life in his own -way. He was ashamed to be on a losing team. Low marks in examinations -put him sadly out of humor, for they classed him with the despised -unsuccessful. For the same reason, notwithstanding a bold air of -indifference, it irked him sorely that he was not popular. - -Dunn likewise came to recognize that he had made a misstep. He said to -Harrison next morning, “I guess you fellows were right about that -Callahan matter; it wouldn’t have done much good, anyway.” Harrison, -glad to perceive that Dunn understood the falseness of his position, -answered pleasantly, and let the incident slip from his mind. He found -enough material for anxiety in the problem of Talbot’s strained knee, -the perfecting of Mac in the use of signals, and the elaboration of a -new scheme for a forward pass from a fake kick. - -Callahan’s offer cropped up again on Friday night, as Wilmot and -Harrison sat in Pete’s bedroom, drawing out a long good night. The pair -had brought in a rubber to work on the injured knee, distrusting Pete’s -fiercely repeated assertion, “It’s all right and doesn’t need any -rubbing.” Determined to see that their trouble was not taken in vain, -they stayed on during the process, in the face of rudely inhospitable -suggestions from Talbot that they go home and let him alone. They -lingered still after the masseur had departed. - -“Anything new about Jason’s friend, the coach?” asked Wilmot, making a -try with his cap at the top of a brass candlestick which stood on the -mantel. The cap fell short, and Talbot put his foot on it. Wilmot flung -himself back in his chair. - -“What coach?” - -“The one that blew in at Adams’s the other day and offered to sell state -secrets. Harrigan or Cullinan or Hooligan—I don’t remember his name.” - -The look of disgust on Harrison’s face showed that he understood. “I -don’t know. I hadn’t thought of him since.” - -“I wonder if Jason wrote him,” mused Wilmot. “You ought to have given me -the job, Harry. I’d have done it in slick style.” - -Harrison shook his head. “It would be taking too much notice of him. -Jason came up next day and acknowledged that it was all wrong. I don’t -think he did anything more about it.” - -“Jason doesn’t know right from wrong, anyway,” observed Wilmot. - -“You could say that of some others I know,” interposed Talbot, with a -significant emphasis. Wilmot, however, showed no curiosity to learn who -these others might be. - -“Why can’t you get the other fellows’ signals right in the game?” he -proposed, suddenly alert. “Four-eleven-forty-four!—right half-back -outside left tackle. Two-eleven-twenty-three-six-million-and-six!—right -half-back crawls between centre’s legs. Deduction: right half-back is -eleven. Keep this up through the game, and you’ll have the whole system. -You win by mental superiority—solve cryptograms on the run. Sherlock -Holmes applied to football!” - -Talbot smiled with complacent contempt. “That shows how much you know -about football. You’re in the class with the person who wrote a football -story that I read once in a weekly paper. The two elevens played the -game, and after it was over and the one team had beaten the other, it -was discovered that some one on the winning team had broken training -before the game. The winners, therefore, forfeited the game to the -losers.” - -“No, seriously,” insisted Wilmot, “why couldn’t it be done?” - -“Because it takes all your attention to play your game,” said Pete. “You -can’t be puzzling out conundrums when you’re watching with all your soul -to see the ball move. I suppose you’d have us call time to rub a leg, -and sit down with a pencil and figure the thing out.” - -“No, not that, but I should think a few of the old hands like you and -Harry and Jimmy Eaton, and quick wits like McDowell—” - -“McDowell stands ’way back on the defence, you idiot!” interrupted Pete. -“He can’t even hear the other team’s signals!” - -“Like somebody else, then,” continued Wilmot, unabashed by the -compliment. “I should think a few fellows might each get a hint, and -then all together would have enough to amount to something. What do you -say, Harry?” - -“It’s possible, but not worth while,” answered Harrison. “You’d lose in -trying to do it more than you could gain by anything you could find out. -The best way is to play a hard, safe game and be ready for whatever -happens along. Come on, I want to go to bed!” - -The school turned out in force for the game. Though hidden within lay -the expectation of defeat, the older boys were assured that the team had -a chance, and gathered gladly, the gambler’s hope in their hearts. To -the younger ones the spectacle was in itself all-attractive, to say -nothing of the joy of sharing the new responsibility of supporting a -team which belonged to them. If some, in ignorance of their privilege, -needed persuasion, there was Mike McKay to furnish it, through the -potent influence of himself and his crowd. Two urchins of the sixth, who -had guilelessly announced their intention of seeing the -Harvard-Dartmouth game instead, were threatened by Mike with -excommunication; he would cut them off, from that time on, from all help -on lessons from their classmates, unless they performed their duty. They -were ready in their places. Papas and mammas were there, everybody’s -sister and her girl friends; and swarms of recent graduates from across -the Charles, vigorous aids to school cheer-leaders and stayers-up of -faint hearts. An extended line of autos was stalled along the fence. Nor -were the Newburyites behind in the demonstration. It was confidence (a -stronger force than hope) that swelled their numbers and gave vigor to -their voices. - -But the proudest, most important, most conspicuous figure was that of -President John Smith. Increased in height by a brown derby, swelled in -girth by a fat fur coat,—he had meant that the day should be -cool,—with an alderman and two newspaper reporters in his train and the -officials of the game his employees, he paced to and fro within the -side-lines and enjoyed his greatness and the greatness of the day. Only -a badge was lacking to complete happiness. In the reporters he had two -friends on whose helpful services he could count. Alderman Skillen was a -political power in President John’s district, with a son on the Newbury -team. If only young Skillen would distinguish himself; if only -Westcott’s would put up a stiff but not victorious game; if only the -reporters could give the right turn to their laudatory phrases, and the -alderman be properly impressed with the power and the influence and the -potential value of the mainspring of it all,—the day might well mark -the beginning of a strong upward twist in the life curve of John Smith. -The suspicion whispered into his ear that morning by the Newbury captain -that the renegade coach might have betrayed the game to Westcott’s had -not so much as ruffled the surface of his optimism. - -The game began. Hexam, the Newbury half-back, drove the ball on the -kick-off down into the hands of Mac,[1] who clutched it tight, and with -his jerky, darting see-saw, threaded his way up the field behind Talbot -and Hardie and Eaton and any one else he could use as a cover, for -thirty good yards. He went down buried deep, like a greased pig finally -swamped by numbers. Then when the small Westcottites were chirping over -the prospect of a quick advance to the goal line, Talbot, without trying -a single rush, punted long and low, sending the ball out of bounds on -the twenty-yard line. - -Footnote 1: - - The Westcott line-up: Hardie, Eaton, Bumpus, Ford, Channing, B. Tracy, - Harrison; quarter-back, McDowell; half-backs, Horr and Talbot; - full-back, Bradford. - -The Newburyites now had their chance, with the length of the field -before them, and hammered away with moderate success, now on this side, -now on that, till Eaton broke through on a slow-starting end-play and -nabbed the runner yards behind the line. Forced to kick or try a forward -pass, Newbury chose the second alternative and lost the ball. Again Pete -punted, to the disappointment of the eager Westcott spectators, and -again Newbury started near her goal line on the slow pound-pound down -the field. - -A half-dozen short gains had been made, when, on a second down, Talbot -pulled Roger aside. “Seven in third place means outside Eaton,” he -panted. “Watch out!” - -“Six, four, seven, twenty-two, forty-four!” sang out the Newbury -quarter. Hardie crept in a double pace; Talbot, line half-back, advanced -a step; and Eaton nerved himself for a spring. The ball moved; Eaton, -moving with it, evaded his opponent and smashed into the interference -behind the line. The bearer of the ball, seeing Talbot in the gap in -front and Hardie swinging in upon him from outside, tossed the ball to a -mate behind who let it slip through his hands. Roger threw himself at it -as it fell. When the heap was split open, there lay the Westcott end at -the bottom, curled round the ball like a rat around an egg. - -Now, within striking distance of the Newbury goal line, Westcott’s -abandoned the kicking game and took to aggressive, fast play. Sequence B -carried them forward fifteen yards, a fortunate try at right end gave -them five yards more, Eaton and Hardie twice opened a clean lane for -Bradford through the sputtering Skillen. Even Bumpus succeeded in -getting some kind of a lift from underneath on big Firman, and assisted -to establish a first down. The unexpectedly fast and furious attack -confused the Newbury resistance. Within the ten-yard line Mac gave -himself a chance, and scurrying to the right the proper measure, -squirmed over the last eight yards under Harrison’s protection and dived -home past clutching hands and struggling bodies. Westcott’s had scored a -certain five! - -In the intermission Harrison contributed an outside-right-tackle signal -which he had learned from the repetitious Newbury quarter, and Bumpus -the number which usually preceded onslaughts on centre. - -“Don’t try to find out anything more!” commanded Yards. “Put your whole -soul into the play. You’ve got the game if you can only hold them.” - -Back they trotted, with smirched faces and tired limbs, but eager and -determined. Their schoolmates on the cheering benches howled joyfully at -them as they passed, but a certain gentleman wearing a brown derby and -fur overcoat, and accompanied by a short, rotund man, easily -recognizable by his diamond shirt-stud, thick mustache, and fat, -red-veined face, gave them but ungracious looks. These looks presaged -words equally ungracious to be uttered after the game, but the players -passed on, unaware that the eye of President John Smith rested on them -in disapproval. - -I wish I might relate all the feats of heroes performed during the -second half of this game which seemed to Mike McKay the most wholly -satisfying contest he had ever witnessed. The chapter, however, has -already run its length, and more football is coming. The ball made many -futile journeys to and fro. Thrice the Newbury captain forced his -quarter to alter the signals because Westcott’s change showed that the -coming move was understood. Twice a Newbury man got an on-side kick -behind the Westcott secondary defence, only to go down in McDowell’s -grasp. Once Mac risked a long forward pass in the middle of the field on -a first down, and Harrison, getting it near the side-line, made a -forty-yard run to a touch-down. Once Skillen hit Hardie a swinging blow -with his fist as the Westcott end _would_ interfere between him and the -ball; and escaped the eye of the umpire. Once more he tried the same -pretty trick and retired from the field in consequence. Time slipped -away, and with it Newbury’s chance and Newbury’s courage. At the last -blast of the referee’s whistle the score stood eleven to nothing in -favor of Harrison’s team. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER X - - THE SCOUTS BRING NEWS - - -THE delighted Westcott lads poured after their team to the dressing -rooms in a turbulent stream. The forward ones thronged the limited space -within, interfering with the progress of the players toward cleanness -and respectability, and wearying them with fierce clutches of the hand -and much repetition of exclamations and idle questions. Dunn served his -companions a good turn—unintentionally, to be sure—by standing near -the door and delivering to a densely packed circle a disquisition on the -game, which included not merely the true explanation of the weakness of -the Newbury team and the faults of their playing, but a candid setting -forth of the errors on the Westcott side. According to Dunn, the score -might have been doubled if Westcott’s hadn’t thrown the ball away so -much by punting, and had gone systematically to work at the outset to -use up Thorne, the Newbury tackle who did half the defensive work of his -team. - -“Didn’t McDowell put up a great game,—and Hardie?” exclaimed some -inconsiderate enthusiast in the circle. - -“Yes, they both did pretty well on the whole,” answered Dunn. “It was a -cinch for Hardie. He had nothing against him.” - -Mike and Dickie Sumner came edging by. - -“If Jason had only been there, you’d have seen something doing,” said -Mike, in a low tone to his companion. They both laughed aloud. Dunn -turned at the sound and caught a glimpse of the roguish faces, and felt, -though he could not hear, the insult of their words. - -“Get out of here, you kids!” he called angrily. “You’ve no business here -at all.” - -“We’re going, Jason, as fast as we can,” returned Dick, feeling safe in -the crowd. “You played a corking game, Jason!” added Mike. - -The two went their way to the quarters of the other team to see how the -Newburyites were taking it, leaving Dunn to wax violent over the -necessity of having these “little fresh mutts” hanging round all the -time, and the foolish encouragement they received from older fellows who -ought to know better. Some of these fellows who ought to know better -were at the other end of the room preparing for the shower. Jack Sumner -held Talbot’s foot in his lap—the knee was stiffening again—and worked -at the knot in a shoe-lace, exclaiming with delight over the playing of -the team and dwelling with especial enthusiasm on McDowell’s -performance. - -“It was just perfect,” he said, relaxing his efforts on the knot to look -into the faces of his hearers. “Those tackles in the second half when -Thorne got the on-side kicks and came down on him, just saved -touch-downs. He’s the greatest find of the year!” - -“Oh, cut it!” exploded Talbot, punning without intent. He meant that -Jack should drop that talk about McDowell. It was honest, without doubt, -and generous, but it hurt Pete none the less, for he understood well -Sumner’s disappointment. - -“I haven’t any knife,” said Sumner. “Here, Steve, give us a knife!” - -And Wilmot, interrupting his discourse on how he had saved the game by -suggesting that they learn the signals during play, dug down into his -trousers pocket and produced a battered thing with a single broken -blade, which he kept on purpose to lend. - -“Be sure you give it back to me,” he said. “It’s the only lender I’ve -got.” - -Meantime in the Newbury quarters, outside of which stood Mike and Dickie -with wide-open eyes and most receptive ears, were to be heard laments -and reproaches and an indignant clamor of foul play. Westcott’s knew the -Newbury signals, there was no doubt about it. - -“Why, that Hardie would move right up on the signal for outside-tackle -play, and go right back again when it was called off. He knew the signal -all right.” Skillen’s assurance had personal interest behind it. He -wanted it understood that he had been laboring under a handicap. - -“And on the centre plays in the second half,” said Firman, “Ford came -right up into the line, and Talbot got in behind him. Of course I -couldn’t make a hole.” - -“That miserable Callahan gave them away,” declared Newbold, the captain. -“You wouldn’t suppose Westcott’s would play such a dirty trick, would -you?” - -“These high flyers are always the worst grafters,” said Skillen. -“They’ll cheat fast enough when they have to.” - -“But we changed some of the signals,” remarked Thorne, “and that -outside-tackle signal that they knew was one of the new ones.” - -“That was only one,” said Newbold. “They knew at least half a dozen. -Callahan sold us, that’s the fact. We’ve got proof. Fritz Schaefer saw -him at the Westcott grounds last Wednesday, talking with one of their -men. It’s a steal. We’ll protest the game.” - -“I don’t believe they did it,” said Thorne. “I know one or two of their -fellows, and they aren’t that kind. Williams (the quarter-back) always -gives the same numbers, anyway. No one who kept his ears open could help -hearing some of them.” - -“That’s right, stand up for ’em!” said Hexam, bitterly. “Go back on your -own school and try to get the Westcott fellows’ favor! They may let you -into one of their societies when you get to college.” - -“I don’t feel as if I’d gone back on my own school much to-day,” -returned Thorne, quietly. “It’s bad enough to be beaten without playing -the baby.” - -“It’s a steal!” Newbold reiterated. “They got our signals and won -unfairly. Smith says so.” - -Smith was saying so at that very moment, in strongly rhetorical -language, to an eager crowd outside the quarters, including in its front -rank a stout man with a diamond pin, and—on the outskirts—Mike McKay -and Dickie Sumner. The high-minded president was sorely pained—not at -the defeat of his school—oh, no! Nor by the anti-climax of his first -gala day—certainly not! Nor by his loss of prestige with Alderman -Skillen. He was pained, but only impersonally and officially, as the -offended guardian of the moral majesty of the league. - -“They was too smart for you, that’s about the size of it,” Mr. Skillen -was saying. “If the’ isn’t any rule against buying up a coach, why, -they’ve got you pinched.” - -“No rule is needed,” answered President John, pompously. “The league -stands for the highest ideals in sport. It won’t countenance low tricks -or dishonorable methods of winning or anything at all in the games that -isn’t absolutely fair and right.” - -“It wasn’t fair and right to kick Jerry off the field, that’s a sure -thing,” declared the alderman. “The other fellow got into him first with -his shoulder. I saw him do it time and again.” An irrepressible titter -ran round the circle at this ingenuous view of football etiquette. - -“We have to leave that to the officials,” President John hastened to -say. “I think they roasted us several times, but we can’t help that. The -other matter is one for the league itself to handle. It’s one of the -most disgraceful performances in the annals of football!” - -The bystanders listened greedily. Mr. Skillen gave a sharp nod of -approval. “That’s the way to put it—make it good and strong and stick -to it. Your friends can give us a nice little story about it in the -papers to-morrow. But what’ll come of it all, that’s what I want to -know? Will there be anything doin’?” - -“We shall protest the game before the committee and demand that it be -played again or declared forfeited.” - -“Forfeit!” decided Mr. Skillen, promptly. “Forfeit’s the thing. It -wouldn’t help any to play it again. They’ve got too many trumps.” - -“Forfeited, then,” agreed Mr. Smith. “I’ll see Newbold about it at -once.” - -President John disappeared through the door leading to the Newbury -quarters, whither the curious young Westcott lads had not the audacity -to follow. They hung about, however, hoping that he might reappear, and -talked over the startling news in indignant whispers. They didn’t -understand it all, but it was clear that their admired heroes were -charged with buying signals from a Newbury coach and winning the game -through the knowledge thus acquired. - -“It’s all rot,” decided Mike. “Somebody’s been kidding ’em. They’d -believe any old lie, if they thought they could make anything by it.” - -“Why, my brother Jack would no more do such a thing than he would pick -pockets!” said Dickie. “He’s awfully particular about those things, and -Pete is just the same.” - -“They’re all the same, except Jason,”—there was nothing evil Mike -wouldn’t believe about Jason,—“and Jason doesn’t count any more.” - -The president came forth, mopping his face with his handkerchief and -setting his hat firmly on his head. From the window of the dressing room -he had seen Mr. Westcott, lingering with three of his old boys near the -entrance to the grounds. Toward this group he set a straight course, -while the two lads fell in unnoticed behind him. - -“Mr. Westcott!” called the high official, sharply, as he drew near. The -college boys lifted their hats and went their way. Mr. Westcott turned -with a pleasant look on his face, and in his heart a kindly feeling for -all the world, including this man Smith. The afternoon had brought him a -full measure of happiness; first the splendid playing of his team, then -a shower of hearty greetings from old boys—and tokens of regard from -former pupils, be it understood, are the sweetest morsels an honest -schoolmaster can roll beneath his tongue. - -“Mr. Westcott!” came in a loud, contentious voice from beneath the brown -derby. “We shall protest that game,—I mean the captain of the Newbury -team has protested it.” - -Mr. Westcott’s smile vanished in a flash, and an expression of -bewilderment overspread his face. “Protested!” he repeated. “I do not -understand. On what ground, pray?” - -“Your team, it appears, bought or at least got the signals which Newbury -was to use from a discharged coach, and so were able to anticipate and -block the Newbury plays.” - -“It appears from what?” asked the schoolmaster, coldly. - -President John hesitated. “Well, from the game itself and—from other -facts.” - -“Mr. Smith,” said Mr. Westcott, speaking with head thrown back, in tones -resonant with indignation, “you probably do not realize the insulting -character of the charge which you are bringing. If I understand you to -mean that the Westcott management plotted to win the game with stolen -signals, I assure you the charge is both false and slanderous. There is -a bad mistake somewhere. I know my boys, as you do not; they are -incapable of such an act.” - -“I didn’t want to believe it myself, sir,” said President John, for the -instant abashed, “but the facts are such—” He stopped and tried to -think what the facts really were. - -“The facts?” persisted Mr. Westcott. - -“They will be stated fully at the meeting of the committee which I shall -call,” answered John, recovering himself. “I merely desired to give you -notice that I had received the protest.” - -He turned and bent his steps toward his allies at the dressing rooms, -driving two urchins in flight before him. Long before his pompous strut -brought him to the Newbury end of the locker building, the two young -scouts had burst in among the Westcott players with a whoop and a yell, -had gathered about them in a trice an elbowing crush of the dressed and -half-dressed, and with mutual support and interruption, were devoting -themselves to the delectable task of relating the news. The audience -listened wild-eyed, questioned, and exploded in exclamations. When the -fire of questions slackened and the exclamations began to pop, Dunn -seized his suit-case and silently stole away. This crowd was no place -for him. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - A FRUITLESS INTERVIEW - - -WHEN the Westcott boys gathered Monday morning at the corner outside the -school building, every third comer bore a newspaper in his hand and hot -indignation in his heart. Only those who did not read the papers, and -had not learned the news which Mike and Dickie brought to the quarters, -wore the complacent smile which they had carried from the field on -Saturday. - -President John’s friends, the reporters, had done their work thoroughly. -While most of the Sunday journals merely announced the result of the -game, or gave a few inches of space to a more or less inaccurate -description, the _Trumpeter_ and the _Mail_ each sacrificed to it the -best part of a column on the page devoted to sports, introduced by heavy -headlines such as: WESTCOTT’S KNEW THE SIGNALS. SENSATIONAL CHARGES -AGAINST BACK BAY BOYS. GAME PROTESTED. INTERVIEW WITH PRES. SMITH! From -the interview it appeared that President John saw the affair in a very -serious light; that the league stood for the highest ideals in sport,—a -familiar phrase in the mouth of its president,—and would certainly deal -sternly with dishonorable practices of any kind. A special meeting of -the managing committee of the league was to be called immediately to -consider the protest. If the charge should be sustained, clearly the -only fair course would be to declare the game forfeited to Newbury, the -score to stand on the record as one to nothing. - -To say that the Westcott lads felt indignant at being thus advertised as -unscrupulous cheats when they knew themselves absolutely innocent, is -like describing a raving maniac as the victim of hallucination. They -boiled and bubbled with rage. If President John had shown himself at the -corner of Otway Street at that moment, they would have flown to mob him, -though every bell in the Westcott school were clanging in their ears. -But as the exalted official did not present himself to be mobbed, and -the school gong did ring, they filed obediently in, and taking their -seats, brooded in sullen bitterness on the outrage. A boy’s sense of -justice—or, as some one has better expressed it, sense of injustice—is -always morbidly keen. The boys at Westcott’s were used to a life in -which the good things flowed in on them naturally, with few questions as -to whether they were deserved or undeserved. Good behavior, fair work, -regard for their parents’ wishes, constituted the price they were -expected to pay; even on this discounts were sometimes allowed. Flat -over-riding of just rights had entered into their experience as little -as physical hardship. They reared against the blow like a young, -high-spirited horse which feels for the first time the sting of a cruel -whip. - -After the morning Scripture reading, to which, it is to be feared, few -gave heed, Mr. Westcott called Harrison and Wilmot into his office, -where he kept them for a quarter of an hour. The other football men, if -they could have had their hearts’ desire, would have sat outside the -office, matching expletives, until their comrades should come forth and -give them the history of the interview. This being for obvious reasons -impossible, the excited lads kept their curiosity under control and went -about their morning tasks with what interest they could -muster,—wrestling, nauseated, with the dullness of Burke on -Conciliation, abusing good English by turning it into worse than peasant -German, and finding Cicero’s maledictions on Catiline but weak and -watery dilutions compared with the things they could say of President -John Smith. Dunn alone of those especially concerned studied that -morning with absolute diligence; he did this in self-defence, to keep -his thoughts from a subject—more disagreeable than lessons—to which -they would wander if his grip upon them slackened but a moment. - -At the lunch hour the ban was raised. A crowd packed itself about -Harrison and Wilmot as soon as the two got within the lunch-room door, -demanding news, and news condensed. “What did he say? What are you going -to do?” was the burden of the questions, but they fell like a hailstorm -in various forms and at various angles, from scores of lips at once. -Harrison was staggered, but not Wilmot, whose nimble wit served an ever -nimble tongue. - -“He says we’ve disgraced the school,” said Wilmot, with a tragic -gesture. “We’ve got to go to Mr. Smith and apologize and—” - -He stopped, not because he had run out of ideas, or was put to shame by -the serious faces about him, but of simple necessity. A hand was pressed -upon his lips and a strong arm embraced him from behind. - -“Shut up, or I’ll break your ribs,” said Talbot, quietly. “We don’t want -to hear from you at all. Harry’s the man. Go ahead, Harry. I’ll keep -this fellow quiet.” - -Harrison, thus encouraged, started on his report. “He wanted to know all -about it, and we told him. He said it was an insult to the school which -we must treat with dignified contempt. We’ve got to keep cool about it -and not get crazy and shoot off a lot of wild talk. That would hurt us -more than anything those fellows can say. He’s going to have Yards write -to the two papers, and he’ll write to the head-master at Trowbridge.” - -“They’ve called a meeting for Wednesday,” said Pete. - -“Do you think Trowbridge will side with ’em?” asked Hardie. - -“I hope not,” answered the captain, doubtfully. - -“If they think they can beat us,” offered Cable, “Trowbridge will side -with us, because if we beat Newbury and Trowbridge beat us, the worst -that could come for Trowbridge would be a tie, even if they got beaten -by Newbury.” - -“How’s that?” demanded Reeves. - -“It’s right. Think it out for yourself, and you’ll see,” said Talbot, -impatiently. - -“And if we get one vote from Trowbridge, and one goes against us,” -continued Cable, encouraged by the attention given to his remarks, -“we’re sure to lose our case. There would be two votes of Newbury and -one of Trowbridge against us, and two of Westcott’s and one of -Trowbridge for us. Then the president would vote against us.” - -“That’s right, too,” said Pete, ruefully. - -“And if Trowbridge doesn’t vote at all or doesn’t come to the meeting, -the result will be the same.” - -“I don’t believe Trowbridge would play us that kind of a trick,” -remarked Sumner; “it’s too mean a thing to do.” - -At this point the suppressed Wilmot began to wave his hands about in -gestures which indicated that he wished permission to speak. - -“Let go of him, Pete; he wants to say something!” commanded the captain. - -Wilmot, obtaining release by this pantomime, escaped to a safer -position. “You haven’t said anything about going to see Callahan.” - -“I forgot that. He thought Jason and some one else had better hunt up -Callahan and get his evidence.” - -At this proposal, Dunn, who stood on the outskirts of the crowd, was -edging away, but Eaton dragged him back. “I won’t!” said the -unfortunate, sullenly. “I don’t want anything more to do with it.” - -“You’ve got to,” Eaton retorted. “You’ve got us into this scrape; now -you must get us out.” - -“You’ll have to go, too, Harry,” said Talbot, calmly treating Dunn’s -refusal as if it had not been made. - -“I must be at the practice. Steve can go. He’s no use for anything -else.” - -“I can’t go, either,” began Wilmot. “I’ve got to look after the balls -and take care of the sweaters and—” - -“Shut up!” interrupted Talbot. “Mike will attend to all that, won’t you, -Mike?” - -“Sure!” - -“I’m not the man for it; I couldn’t get anything out of him,” insisted -Wilmot. “A simple, inoffensive fellow like me could never make any one -do anything he doesn’t want to. Pete ought to go. He’s got an awful -crust.” - -“You’re going,” answered Talbot; “it’s the manager’s job. If Callahan -can stand your talk for ten minutes without giving you anything you ask -to get rid of you, he’ll be the first man who’s ever done it. You -remember the address, Jason?” - -Dunn thought he did. “Then it’s settled,” said Talbot. “Let’s get -something to eat.” - -That afternoon Wilmot and Dunn journeyed to East Boston together in -search of Callahan. They had little to say to each other on the way. -Wilmot disliked Dunn, and Dunn was afraid of Wilmot; neither relished -the expedition on which they were engaged. After much questioning and -unnecessary wandering they arrived at No. 73 Doble Street and asked if -Mr. Callahan lived there. - -Yes, Mr. Callahan lived there, but was not at home; he would be in about -five. The boys drifted forth to kill time as best they could, hung round -the steamship docks, where a big Cunarder was being loaded, until -darkness fell, and then strolled slowly back to the abode of the -ex-coach. - -Callahan had returned. They waited in the dimly lighted entry while -their message was carried aloft, depressed by the strange surroundings -and a sense of inadequacy to the task which they had undertaken. -Presently a heavy step was heard descending the bare treads of the -second flight above, and soon Callahan’s forbidding face came into the -half-light. He stopped on the third stair and peered suspiciously down -upon his visitors. - -It had been arranged that Dunn should begin the interview, but at the -crisis Jason was dumb. - -“What is it?” demanded Callahan. “What do you want?” - -“We come from Westcott’s School,” said Wilmot, perceiving that it was -useless to wait for Dunn. “You’ve probably seen in the papers the -trouble we’re in about the Newbury game.” - -“Yes, I have,” snarled Callahan, with an oath; “and a nice mess you’ve -got me into with your talk!” - -“We haven’t been talking,” Wilmot answered; “it’s Newbury that’s doing -the talking. We thought you’d be willing to help us out by saying that -we didn’t get any signals from you, and—” - -“Of course you didn’t get any signals from me—for the very good reason -that I wouldn’t have given ’em to you.” - -“But you offered them to us,” said Dunn, his tongue loosened by this -strange statement. “You told me that day at Adams’s—” - -Callahan turned fiercely upon him. “It’s a lie! I never offered you any -signals. I said I was through with Newbury and could coach you if you -wanted me.” - -Dunn, amazed, opened his mouth to reply, but Wilmot was too quick for -him. “Will you write us a statement that you didn’t give us any signals? -Of course we know you didn’t, but the statement might help us.” - -“Write nothing!” said the coach, shortly. “It’s none of my business. -There’s nothing in it for me.” - -“We’ll pay you for it,” began Dunn, with eagerness; but Wilmot, who -perceived instantly that an evil interpretation might be given to this -transaction, checked his colleague. - -“No, we couldn’t do that, of course. It wouldn’t look right. But if -you’d give us a statement denying that we got the Newbury signals from -you, we should be very thankful for it.” - -“I’m not giving statements. Anybody who knows Jake Callahan knows he -wouldn’t sell signals. Anybody who says he did, lies!” - -While speaking these words, Callahan had finished his descent of the -stairs and opened the outer door. Wilmot said good night and went forth, -dragging after him Dunn, who seemed on the point of raising again the -question of the conversation which he had held with Callahan at the -field. - -“But he did offer the signals just the same!” Dunn broke out, after they -had walked in silence a hundred yards down the street. - -“What difference does it make?” answered Wilmot, wearily. “He’s no good -to us, anyway.” - -Yards was no more successful with his communication to the newspapers. -The _Mail_ hid it away in the bottom corner of the market page, where -Yards himself had difficulty in discovering it. The _Trumpeter_ -sandwiched it in between a letter on Esperanto and another from an -opponent of the battle-ship programme. As few who read the sports pages -know of the existence of the correspondence column, and no one who reads -the letters cares anything about sports, Yards’s chance of undoing the -impression made by President John’s friends was about one in a thousand. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - PRESIDENT JOHN’S IDEALS - - -TALBOT and Sumner were the Westcott members of the general committee -which was to consider the protest of the Newbury captain. They did not -lack advice as to what to say and what not to say, nor original -suggestions concerning methods of influencing the Trowbridge vote, -which, as everybody understood, must really decide the matter. Mr. -Westcott was the only counsellor to whom they gave heed, and his -directions they determined to follow to the best of their ability. They -were to avoid all display of feeling, keep their tempers under absolute -control, tell their story calmly without acrimony, and throw themselves -unreservedly upon the sense of fairness of the committee. Such a course -was especially difficult for Talbot, whose vehemence tolerated no -trifling or evasion, and whose frankness verged on discourtesy. He felt -his own unfitness for the task before him, even while he longed to be -brought face to face with the traducers of his school. - -“You’ll have to do the talking, Jack,” he said, as the two delegates, -having patiently endured to the end the fusillade of admonitions and -counsel with which their ears had been deafened all day long, took seats -in the car which was to carry them to the Newbury School. “If I once get -going, I’m bound to go off the handle and ruin the whole business.” - -“I don’t believe you will,” answered Sumner, reassuringly. “There’s too -much at stake. You just want to think of it as seven honest people -brought together to consider a question of fact,—that’s what Mr. -Westcott said,—not as if you were out for a fight with three sworn -enemies and two doubtful characters.” - -“If Smithy isn’t an enemy, I don’t know what an enemy is! I wish Harry -or Steve were here in my place; either would be a lot better than I. -Harry can hold his tongue, and Steve can talk an apple off a tree!” - -“You can hold your tongue, too.” - -“I will, if I have to bite it off—until they decide against us. When -that comes, I’m going to call ’em just what they are, a pack of -thieves!” - -“But it may not come,” said Sumner, quietly. - -“Oh, it will. Everybody thinks so. Mr. Snyder will vote with us because -Trowbridge will want to seem to be fair, and Frost will vote with -Newbury. That will make a tie, and Smithy will be forced in the -interests of pure athletics to give the deciding vote against us.” - -“I don’t believe it. Anyway, if that’s your opinion, you don’t want to -show it, or they’ll think you know you haven’t any case. We want to act -as if we were sure of the rightfulness of our claim, and had only to -state it to have it granted.” - -“I wish there was something I could _do_!” groaned Pete. “I hate to sit -around and pretend.” - -The other members of the committee were already assembled when Sumner -and Talbot were shown into the room. The glance with which Pete took in -this fact hardened immediately into a look of hostility, for it seemed -to him probable that the five had already used their opportunity to come -to a decision with reference to the object of the meeting, and that the -proceedings would now be merely formal. But Sumner was already going the -rounds, shaking hands with everybody in a spirit of great friendliness; -so Pete, suspecting that this was the proper time to begin that -assumption of confidence to which Sumner had urged him, fell in behind -his colleague, with a mighty effort crowding back his feeling of -distrust. Mr. Snyder and Frost greeted him cordially, and though Newbold -vouchsafed but a languid clasp of the hand and murmured a palpably empty -phrase of politeness through a frigid grimace, Thorne gave him a grip of -reassuring warmth. He tarried therefore at Thorne’s side and talked with -him for a few minutes on indifferent themes,—such as sailing and summer -dances,—thereby turning his back on President John and avoiding the -necessity of dissembling before that much-hated dignitary. - -Thorne and Talbot were old friends, although their position now seemed -to Pete more like that of enemies approaching the battlefield. Their -summer houses stood within a mile of each other on Buzzard’s Bay, and -even now their boats lay housed side by side. It was a pity that a -naturally decent fellow like Thorne could be so blinded by rabid -partisanship as to lend himself as an abettor to the scheme of a John -Smith! - -So Talbot was thinking, more in sorrow than in wrath, when President -John mounted the platform—a recitation room was their council -chamber—and called the meeting to order. They separated now to three -benches, Newbold and Thorne on the left wing, Mr. Snyder and Frost in -the centre, Talbot and Sumner on the right. “It’s like a court,” -whispered Pete, “with Trowbridge for judge. We’re no good except to pair -with Newbold and Thorne.” - -The chairman introduced the business of the hour with all solemnity. The -committee had met to consider the charge made by Newbury that Westcott’s -had won the game of Saturday by unfair and dishonorable methods. It had -been to him a great disappointment that the first contest in the new -league, to which he had devoted so much time and thought, should have -been darkened by scandal. He felt, however, and he was confident that -the majority of the committee agreed with him, that there could be no -turning back upon the ideals of the league—again those ideals!—The -mere winning or losing of a game was of slight consequence compared with -the supreme importance of holding unswervingly to the highest -conceptions of honor and gentlemanly conduct. - -“The old hypocrite!” whispered Pete in Sumner’s ear. - -“Hush!” and a warning hand clutched the offender’s knee. - -The chairman now read the protest,—which wound up with a demand that -the game be declared forfeited to Newbury,—and complacently asked what -should be done with it, addressing presumably the whole committee, but -looking straight before him at the two members from Trowbridge. - -“I think we ought to consider first the grounds for the protest, and -afterwards, if the protest is sustained, the penalty,” said Mr. Snyder. - -“Very well,” agreed the chairman; “we will hear the Newbury statements -first.” - -If the protest is sustained! Why should they mention the penalty at all -unless they meant to sustain the protest? Talbot became more than ever -convinced that the whole affair was prejudged and that the proceedings -would be merely the carrying out of a prearranged plan. - -He listened closely to Newbold, none the less, when the latter, in the -capacity of prosecuting attorney, presented his case. Newbury had been -unfortunate this year in the selection of Callahan as coach. A week -before the game with Westcott’s, for certain reasons unnecessary to -state, he had been discharged. Callahan was very “sore” and declared in -presence of witnesses—Newbold held up a paper which he said contained -their statements—that he’d “get even.” A few days afterward, Callahan -had been observed at the Westcott field in long conversation with a -Westcott player—another display of papers. Later this player was seen -conferring with Harrison and others of the football men. In the course -of this conference, one of the Westcott men dropped a paper which the -witness secured; on it was written the address of the discharged coach. -Suspecting an attempt to steal a knowledge of their game, Newbury had -changed certain plays and signals, but because the time was too short to -master an entirely new set they had been compelled to use a large number -of the old ones. In the game Westcott’s had often understood the Newbury -signals as soon as they were given out, and it was the old signals which -they understood. Through a knowledge of the signals, Westcott’s spoiled -Newbury’s play and won. - -As Newbold sat down, Mr. Smith drew his hand across his forehead, swept -the line of benches with a look of sorrow and pain, and sighed audibly. -There was plainly no doubt at all in the chairman’s mind as to the -substantial truth of the charge. It was but too clear that a treacherous -blow had been struck at the fair fame of the Triangular League, and at -those ideals of sportsmanship which were ever the objects of President -John’s highest solicitude. But Anglo-Saxon justice has established the -principle that the worst criminal has a right to be heard in his own -defence. Mr. Smith turned therefore to the bench on his left, and with -the manner of a judge asking the convicted felon whether he has any -statement to make before sentence is passed, invited the representatives -from Westcott’s to make response. - -Sumner had prepared no speech; he lacked, moreover, as he would himself -assert, all talent for impromptu oratory. But he could tell a plain -story with candor and simplicity, and there spoke in his tones an honest -conviction, which would inspire belief if the listening ears were -attuned to such a voice. He denied with all the vigor he could put into -words that Westcott’s had bought or stolen or had any previous knowledge -of the Newbury signals. Callahan _had_ approached one of the Westcott -players and offered to betray the signals, but Westcott’s had scorned -the offer. The address which the Newbury spy had discovered was thrown -away, not dropped. In the game Westcott’s had learned a few signals by -listening to them as they were given by the Newbury quarter, but before -the game began, they had absolutely no knowledge of the signals to be -used by their opponents. - -“I should like to know, then, how it happened that it was the old -signals, not the new ones, that you found out,” began Newbold, savagely, -as Sumner dropped back into his seat. - -“If that was the case,” answered Sumner, “it was merely chance. All we -got was three or four numbers for holes.” - -Newbold sniffed. “I should like to ask something else, too,” he -continued. “You’ve played football and you know what the excitement is -in a game. Do you think it is an easy thing to detect a lot of unknown -signals while the game is going on?” - -“No, I don’t,” answered Sumner, calmly, “but you could get a few if they -were given as openly as yours were.” - -“They weren’t given openly!” - -At this point, perhaps in the interest of peace, Mr. Snyder interposed -with a question. “What has Callahan to say about this? Have you his -statement?” - -Sumner recounted the futile efforts which Westcott’s had made to induce -the coach to give evidence, not concealing the fact that Callahan now -denied that he had offered any signals at all. - -At this frank admission Newbold gave vent to a nervous titter of -derision. President John smiled contemptuously. “Your stories do not -hang together, Mr. Sumner,” he said. - -“One story is ours and the other is Callahan’s,” answered Sumner, -quickly. “They can’t hang together if Callahan lies.” - -Pete whispered into Sumner’s ear, “Ask Thorne about it!” - -“Ask him yourself!” - -Talbot got upon his feet. “We’ve been answering questions for a while, -now I think it’s our turn to ask a few. I want Thorne to tell us whether -we recognized any signals on his side of the line.” - -“Yes,” answered Thorne. - -“How many?” - -“I am sure of one, the play outside tackle.” - -“Was it in the first or last part of the game?” - -“The last.” - -“Was it an old signal or a new one?” - -“A new one.” - -“I think he’s mistaken about that,” cried Newbold, and he applied -himself immediately with angry exhortations to his colleague’s ear. -Thorne reddened under the attack, but did not retreat. - -“You see, it was just as Sumner said,” commented Talbot, addressing the -central bench. “We picked up a few signals during the game. Callahan -couldn’t have given us that tackle signal, if we had asked him.” - -“Unfortunately it isn’t a question of one signal, but of many,” said -President John, quickly. “You ask us to believe what the football -experts assure us is impossible.” - -“If you have a fool quarter-back, anything is possible,” retorted -Talbot. “When three plays out of four in succession are sent at the same -hole with only a slight alteration in the signal, a fellow must be an -idiot not to guess what the signal means!” Pete stopped short there, for -Sumner pulled him down. - -“We didn’t do that!” snapped Newbold. - -Again Mr. Snyder interfered. “I think we may as well vote now,” he said. -“We have heard both sides.” - -“Yes, vote!” muttered Talbot. “That’s what we’re here for! It’s no use -to waste time on the truth if you’ve already made up your minds not to -accept it.” The words were spoken too low to carry distinctly, a -prudence which must be credited to the restraining influence of Sumner’s -clutch upon the speaker’s knee. - -“We will take the vote then,” announced the chairman, in accents of -genuine relief; but he added immediately, “Unless some one has -additional evidence to present or questions to ask.” - -“I think further discussion would be unprofitable,” said Mr. Snyder, -quickly. “Newbury has made a charge and Westcott’s has denied it. It -only remains for us to give our decision.” - -To this sentiment the general silence gave consent. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - - THE COMMITTEE DECIDES - - -PRESIDENT JOHN had his ballots ready. “I will distribute blank slips of -paper,” he said, “and Mr. Frost will kindly gather up the votes. Those -who think that the protest should be sustained will write ‘Yes’ upon -their ballots, the others will write ‘No.’” - -He descended from his throne and paraded along the line, distributing -blank ballots with a great show of solemnity. Those which he put into -the hands of the Newbury delegates could hardly be called blank, as they -had the word “Yes” written clearly upon them. The great chief was -determined to reduce the chances of error to a minimum. Presently Frost -gathered up the momentous tickets and delivered them into the hands of -the chairman. - -“Four to two against us!” whispered Talbot, as Mr. Smith began to -separate the ballots. A squeeze upon his knee was all the answer Sumner -vouchsafed. An instant after, they were both intently watching the -president, across whose face, bent eagerly over the desk, swept an -expression of astonishment and indignation. - -“I think there has been a misunderstanding here,” he said slowly, as he -lifted his eyes to the occupants of the Newbury bench. Newbold returned -his look with a stare of fright and curiosity, but Thorne was gazing out -of the window. “On one ballot ‘Yes’ had been first written and -afterwards changed to ‘No.’ It is possible that I did not make myself -entirely clear. I think we had better take another vote.” And he -repeated once more the conditions of the balloting. - -This time all the slips given out were blank. Thorne wrote his, holding -it in front of him in the palm of his hand. Newbold peeped over his -shoulder, uttered an exclamation and snatched at the ballot, but Thorne -repulsed him with a quick uplift of the elbow and dropped the vote in -the hat. The chairman sorted the ballots in feverish haste, his cheeks -dark with gathering wrath. Then, rising to his feet, he darted a furious -glance at Thorne, who met it bravely. - -“The protest is not sustained,” he announced with an effort at calmness. - -“What is the vote?” asked Frost. - -The chairman made unwilling answer, “Five to one.” - -Pete’s hand fell with a resounding slap on Sumner’s shoulder. “Five to -one!” he whispered, exultant; “Thorne voted with us! Isn’t he a corker -to do that?” - -“Five to one,” repeated Mr. Snyder. “It is too bad it couldn’t have been -unanimous. I should like to say before we separate that this whole -affair seems to me in the highest degree ill-advised and unfortunate. -Unless we respect each other sufficiently to trust in each other’s -honesty and honor, we have no right to be leagued together. To encourage -accusations like these we have heard to-day without incontrovertible -proofs to support them is in itself an act of treachery to the League. I -hope we shall never be compelled to discuss such a question again.” - -The meeting was over. President John was jerking on his coat and -savagely stamping his feet into his overshoes. Sumner and Talbot, having -exchanged congratulatory grips, were pouring out fervent expressions of -gratitude to their friends from Trowbridge, who had believed them honest -men, not liars and cheats. At the moment of adjournment Thorne had taken -his hat, and without a word to friend or foe, had slipped through the -door. Newbold, following closely after, overtook him in the hall. - -“That’s right! Run away and hide yourself, you traitor!” shouted the -captain, his voice trembling with rage. - -Thorne swung sharply round. “I’m not hiding from _you_, anyway,” he said -coolly. “What have you got to say about it?” - -“I say you’re a disgrace to the school. First you threw us by letting on -that that tackle signal was a new one, and then you voted against us, -against your own school!” - -“I told the truth, and I voted for what I thought was right!” - -“What you thought was right!” sneered Newbold. “You voted that way just -to get in with those Westcott fellows, that’s what you did it for. But -you won’t succeed. No one respects a traitor, least of all those who use -him!” - -This was a shot which wounded, not because it was true, but because it -suggested a despicable motive for an act prompted solely by scruples of -conscience. Thorne started as if pricked by a pin. - -“That’s a lie, Tom Newbold, and you know it!” he flung back hotly, -advancing a step toward his assailant. “I’m not trying to get in with -any one, not even with you. I did it because I believe in getting games -by winning ’em, not by stealing ’em.” - -The captain clenched his fists and glared. “You won’t get the chance to -win any more on _my_ team, I can tell you that. No team is big enough to -hold us two, after to-day’s work!” - -“All right!” returned Thorne, who had recovered his self-control. “I’ll -consider myself fired.” - -On escaping from the council chamber, Talbot spent half a dollar of -precious allowance money in telephoning to various people the happy -result of the meeting. Later, he went home and devoted the hour before -dinner to composing a letter to Thorne, which should express his -admiration of Thorne’s honesty and courage. It was a difficult letter to -write, because it was necessary to praise Thorne without condemning his -schoolmates, for Thorne was not one to listen with pleasure to abuse of -his associates by an outsider. As Thorne did not answer this letter, -Talbot concluded that he must have bungled it. - -In fact, Talbot’s honest eulogy was one of the influences which enabled -Thorne to face the unpleasantness of the next two days at school with -head high and colors flying. He did not answer the letter because under -the circumstances he did not wish to have any correspondence with -Westcott’s. The Newbold party did their best to set the ban upon him in -school, to brand him as a traitor and expose him to public contempt. The -means employed to accomplish this purpose, the misrepresentation, the -distorted version of the proceedings at the meeting, spread broadcast, -the gathering of an anti-Thorne party by promises and threats, all might -interest us, if it belonged in the story. It is the result alone that -concerns this narrative. The movement was ill-timed. After two days of -practice with a substitute tackle in Thorne’s position, the practical -politicians forced the hands of the extremists. On the morning of the -Trowbridge-Newbury game, Newbold, driven to the hated course by the -overwhelming demand of the school, went morosely to Thorne’s house to -ask him to forgive and forget and take his old place in the game. - -It was too late; Thorne had gone out of town with his father for the -day. So Newbury fared to Trowbridge, spiritless through dissensions, and -weakened by the absence of the best defensive player in school. -Trowbridge met them with a fresh, well-fused eleven, opposed harmony and -dash to disunion and blind resistance, got the jump on their adversaries -in the line three times out of four, made first downs through the weak -tackles almost at will,—and piled up three touch-downs while Newbury -was securing one lucky goal from the field. - -Alderman Skillen left the field in the middle of the second half, -disgusted with football and those who had fanned his interest in it. -When the score reached seventeen, President John followed the alderman’s -example. Newbold, having suffered the humiliation of defeat on the -field, returned to school to face cold looks and hear contemptuous -comments, and to see Thorne treated as a victim of jealousy who might -have saved the day if he had only been allowed to play. - -But the worst blow was dealt in the meeting for the election of next -year’s captain, when the team not only rejected Newbold’s -candidate—Newbold himself was a senior—but actually elected Thorne by -a seventy per cent vote. And the fickle school loudly acclaimed the -choice. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - - THE TROWBRIDGE GAME - - -TO Sumner more than to any one else of the Westcott School was due the -fine spirit of caution and determination with which the eleven faced the -momentous game with Trowbridge. He had not slackened for a moment his -devotion to the team from which, according to Stover, he had been -ignominiously fired. He had watched the Trowbridge-Newbury contest with -a sharp eye and an open note-book. The newspapers remarked after the -game that Trowbridge had gained on end runs and tackle plays and lost on -kicks; and that Ricker, the Trowbridge back, was the star of the game. -Sumner had not been content with any such general impressions. He had -observed how the plays were started behind the line, what holes were -relied on for emergencies, who was most likely to fumble punts, and in -precisely what way Ricker’s interference formed and hit the line. During -the last week of practice, his second team was an imitation Trowbridge, -with Trowbridge end runs and genuine Ricker dashes. The Ricker of the -Westcott second was alumnus Bill Ellery, Harvard junior, who could cover -the two-twenty in twenty-three, and started like a deer. Two active old -Westcottites from across the Charles personated Trowbridge tackles, and -another guarded right end. Yards practiced his linesmen in breaking -straight through, with a spring and a dart and a slap of the open hand -against the opponent’s headguard; he forced them to make gripping -tackles on the slippery dummy; he taught them how to master, not to -kill, the men in front of them; he furnished practicable plays adapted -to the powers of the team, and drilled the players in signals until -obedience was automatic—but it was Sumner who prepared them for Ricker -and the deceptive end runs. - -“This last week’s work has been the best of all,” said Yards, the -evening before the game. “If Pete’s knee holds out, we ought to be able -to put up a pretty good offence, and Sumner’s second has developed our -defence wonderfully.” - -“And he won’t even make his W!” lamented Harrison. - -“No, he won’t!” answered Yards, who could afford to be outspoken now -that the end of the season was at hand. “On every point of the game -McDowell is better.” - -“Then you don’t think there’s any chance for Jack to get in?” asked -Harrison, wistfully. - -Yards shook his head. “Not unless Mac is laid out or we get a big lead.” - -[Illustration: REGULAR WESTCOTT DEFENCE—OPEN (Outside thirty-yard -line)] - -Harrison smiled feebly at the sarcasm of this last suggestion. There was -about as much chance of getting a big lead on Trowbridge as that Mac -would make half a dozen goals from the field or that Bumpus would find -big Hubbard an easy victim; while it was quite within the range of -probability that Pete would injure his knee again and deprive the team -of its only good punter, or that some accident would befall Eaton or -Hardie or some other strong player whose place no one could fill. -Subconsciously he shared the view prevalent in school that Trowbridge -was likely to win, though he did not admit the possibility even to -himself. He had never wholly approved the system of open defence which -Yards had adopted from the Harvard theorists. To one used to a solid -line of bodies before the ball it seemed a reckless scheme to pull the -centre out of his place and put him behind the line, thus leaving open, -in the wall of defence, an avenue wide enough for a cart. He could see -that this method of resistance strengthened the wings, through which the -longest gains are made, and rendered it possible to keep two backs in -reserve for on-side kicks and forward passes; but would not this open -highway through centre furnish an easy route for heavy plunges? Yards -maintained that if Ford and the guards would but watch the play -carefully, the gains through centre could be made unprofitably small; -yet Harrison’s doubts, though unuttered, were none the less real. - -[Illustration: REGULAR TROWBRIDGE DEFENCE—CLOSED] - -Roger Hardie’s heart was beating quick with eagerness to get into the -play, when Talbot opened the game by sending the ball spinning down to -the lower corner of the field. Cowles took it on the bounce, and had -worked it back fifteen yards before he ran into Eaton’s arms. Through -the centre highway Ricker pushed for five yards before Ford and Talbot -reached him and brought him down. Another assault at the same place gave -a first down. The open defence was showing its weak side. Then they -sought a hole outside Bumpus, but Bumpus got free and threw the runner -into Talbot’s hands. Another dash at centre yielded two yards, and with -five to gain Cowles punted. Mac took the ball safely on his thirty-yard -line, and sent Horr twice against the Trowbridge right flank behind -Eaton and Hardie, each time gaining five yards; and Bradford once just -inside Harrison, who, tugging with Tracy and supported by Talbot behind, -dragged the runner eight yards before the Trowbridge men pulled him -down. A tandem through right guard yielded a first down. After that an -end run was blocked with the loss of a yard through the quickness of the -Trowbridge tackle, and Mac decided to kick. - -Pete’s punt, which was got off so quickly that the defence was hardly -ready for it, went diagonally down the field, and, by rolling out at the -Trowbridge thirty-yard line, prevented any running back. Trowbridge -tried an end run from a fake kick, but Harrison was not deceived, and -threw the runner behind the line. Then recourse was had to punting once -more, but the back was slow in getting off his kick, and Bumpus, who had -slapped his way through the line and leaped wildly in the air in the -path of the ball, took it on his chest and beat it down to the ground. -Three men threw themselves at it as it struck, and buried it deep under -struggling brown bodies; but the one who lay closest to it, hugging it -ecstatically in his arms, proved to be the Westcott left end. - -The wave of the referee’s hand which moved the measurers down was the -signal for shrill whoops from the excited band of youngsters in the -Westcott cheering section. Sumner on the side-lines flung his arms about -the coach in a transport of delight. - -“Our ball on the fifteen-yard line!” he cried jubilantly. “We’ve got ’em -now!” - -“Don’t be too sure,” answered Yards, who, though just as eager, had -himself under better control. “It’s a hard fifteen yards to cover.” - -The players were in position now, nerved for the great struggle. Behind -their forwards, the Trowbridge backs stood in a line of three. Each -linesman recognized that the success or failure of the next play might -depend on the quickness with which he leaped. The signal which rang out -in Mac’s clear, sharp voice called for a tandem play between left tackle -and guard, with Talbot carrying the ball. Eaton, straining to get the -jump on his antagonist, moved before the ball, and was off side. The -umpire blew his horn; the referee counted back five yards; the lines -formed again. - -“O dear!” groaned Sumner. “What’ll he do now?—I believe he’s going to -try a drop!” - -“It’s a fake,” said Yards, composedly. “He’d try another down if he -meant to do that.” - -McDowell was back holding out his hands, the backs had taken the -formation for interference. Ford passed, but it was Talbot who received -the ball and made a short, quick kick over the right side of the line. -Harrison charged after it with all his speed, but Ricker beat him in the -sprint, took the ball on the bounce, and ran round the Westcott captain -for a gain of fifteen yards before Talbot forced him out of bounds. - -From his chagrin at this failure Sumner was aroused by a loud chuckle of -mirth close behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes met -the exultant gaze of President John. - -“Wasted his chance,” remarked the dignitary, with an oily grin of -recognition. “I’m afraid he won’t get another.” Sumner nodded and moved -down the line. - -And now the Trowbridge men, taking courage from their escape, began to -put new life into their play. Ricker shot through centre and squirmed -forward ten yards. His second attempt was blocked by Ford and Channing -after a short gain. Then a trick was sprung; the guards, tackles, and -ends moved out suddenly six paces, leaving the centre all alone before -the ball, with a great space on either side of him. The movement was -supposed first to confuse the enemy, then to draw them out of position -so as to leave a big hole near the centre, or to furnish a close -interference for a run at end. But the Westcott rushers, having had -experience with this very play as practiced by Sumner’s eleven, took it -coolly as a matter of course, went through evenly along the line, and -downed the dangerous Ricker before he got well under way. On the third -down Trowbridge tried a forward pass on a crisscross formation, but Horr -blocked off the end, and the ball, striking the ground, fell once more -to Westcott’s. McDowell wasted a down in a fruitless effort to push -Bradford through centre, and Horr fumbled. Trowbridge made seven yards -and kicked, Talbot punted back, and for ten minutes the play oscillated -between the thirty-yard lines. - -At last—it seemed to Sumner that the half must be nearly at an end—a -rash attempt on the part of Trowbridge to gain four yards after a third -down gave Westcott’s the ball fifty yards from their opponents’ goal. -Mac, who had by this time “sized up” the Trowbridge defence, now ceased -experimenting, and applied his whole mental power to the task of -matching the strong points of his team against the weaknesses of the -foe. On the defence, Trowbridge played the centre in the line, with but -a single line half-back. The Westcott quarter brought his end over, and -drove his backs outside tackle and outside end, now on the short side, -now on the long, gaining satisfactory distances at each stroke. -Presently a second Trowbridge back came up to support the line, leaving -the back-field clear. Mac recognized this opportunity for a forward -pass, and seized it. Pete’s long spiral throw fell into Eaton’s hands on -the enemy’s twenty-yard line. It was a close shave, for Cowles was upon -him as he leaped for the ball, but Eaton held it, though he was thrown -hard. A crash through centre, a skin-tackle play, a split play on a -delayed pass, and Westcott’s brought up at the third down on the -Trowbridge thirteen-yard line with three yards to gain, the enemy’s -linesmen on their knees, and their whole back-field pushed up to support -them. - -But two minutes remained. If the ball were lost now, the opportunity to -score would go. Harrison shouted a signal from his end. McDowell nodded, -and fell back to a kicking position, giving his signals clearly as he -went. - -“Look out for an on-side kick!” yelled the Trowbridge captain. “Get -through on them now!” - -While he spoke, the ball went back. The line in the centre swerved, but -held; the Trowbridge ends, followed by the tackles, swooped down upon -the waiting quarter, but the Westcott backs blocked them off from the -danger zone. Mac got his drop away safely, and, holding his breath, -watched the ball floating upward beyond the reach of human hands. It -crossed the bar three feet inside the post. - -The play during the rest of the half was comprehended in two kicks. -Trowbridge sent the ball on the kick-off deep into Westcott territory; -and Talbot on the first down punted it far back. - -Sumner, dancing with joy round Mike and the water pail, found himself -again in the presence of the lord of the league. - -“What about that chance that wasn’t coming?” he asked, with a sudden -accession of friendliness. - -“The game isn’t over,” answered President John, sourly. “A single -touch-down will wipe that gain out.” - -At the dressing rooms the usual discussion of the developments of the -game was going forward. The bedraggled players, their mud-streaked faces -aglow with hope, lay stretched on the floor about the coach, listening -eagerly to his last directions. In one corner, Duane, of the Harvard -Second, was explaining to Bumpus how, by proper use of his knee, he -could hold Hubbard on the offence at least a second longer. Yards, -having finished his general exhortation, drew McDowell aside to talk -over with him the strategy of the second half, which was, in brief, to -play safely, keep the ball in opponents’ territory, and watch for -chances. - -“If we hold them well, you’ll put in Sumner at the last, won’t you?” Mac -asked. - -“Not with the score three to nothing,” answered Yards, quickly. - -“If we should make a touch-down, then?” persisted Mac. - -The coach hesitated a moment before replying, but when he spoke, there -was no uncertainty in his words. “It wouldn’t be safe. Sumner is a good -fellow, and he’s worked hard for the team, but we’re playing the game to -win, not to give good fellows a chance to make their W’s. I sha’n’t take -any risks.” - -The Westcott players trotted forth at the call, determined to make at -the outset such a show of power and dash as would put Trowbridge -immediately on the defensive. The Trowbridge rushers strung out across -the field on a line with the ball. Westcott’s took the usual defensive -positions, the centre ten yards back from the ball, the guards flanking -him, but behind, the tackles outside the guards and still farther back. -Cowles ran forward for his kick-off, but instead of driving the ball to -the limit of his powers down the field, he sent it with a little stab of -his foot diagonally across toward the side-line. It struck the line -outside the Westcott left guard. Bumpus, perplexed at the unexpected -play, hesitated a moment before he leaped for the ball. His hesitation -cost his side dear, for two Trowbridge rushers crashed into him before -he had taken three steps, and the Trowbridge end flung himself on the -ball just ahead of Eaton, who pounced upon him like a wild beast upon -his prey. Trowbridge had gained the ball on Westcott’s forty-yard line! - -Sumner’s heart was like lead, as he saw the Trowbridge line open in wide -gaps for a trick play. If the Westcott rushers lost their heads now, -there was no hope for the team. But a line that sifts evenly through, -with each man keeping well within his own territory, is a hard line to -work tricks upon; and a strong, aggressive tackle is a dangerous -obstacle to end plays. The Westcott line did sift evenly through, and -Eaton was a good tackle—so good, indeed, that he burst straight into -the Trowbridge interference, and, hooking the runner with a long reach, -swung him directly into Hardie’s arms. The next play, which was directed -at the open centre, was spoiled by Bumpus, who burned to retrieve -himself, before it had advanced three yards. Then, with six yards to -gain, Cowles drew back for a kick. - -“Fake!” shouted Harrison. “Look out for a forward pass!” - -His warning proved false; it served only to check his own line, and give -Cowles a better opportunity to get off his kick. He punted high and with -such splendid accuracy that the ball fell at the Westcott six-yard line. -McDowell stood under it as it came down, holding his hand high aloft and -claiming the privilege of a fair catch. All about him thronged the -menacing Trowbridge forwards, ready to seize the ball and carry it -across the line should Mac fail to hold it. - -“I’m glad I’m not there!” thought the anxious Sumner. “I’d fumble it -sure! If it should slip out of his hands, now—” - -But it didn’t. As calmly as if he were in mid field with no one near to -disturb him, Mac gathered in the descending ball and heeled his mark. -Twenty seconds later Pete’s long punt rolled out at the Westcott -forty-five-yard line. - -Again Westcott’s held Trowbridge to a seven-yards gain in two downs, and -Trowbridge, as a last resort, tried a complicated forward pass; but -Tracy worked through on the end who had come round to make the pass, and -threw him before he could complete it. Now, for the first time during -the half, the Westcott lads took the offence, though Mac still preferred -to rely on Talbot’s foot. Down sailed the ball to the Trowbridge -twenty-yard line, only to be kicked back beyond the centre of the field -a few minutes later. Here for some minutes the play wavered within the -neutral zone. On the exchange of punts there was little advantage except -that gained by - -[Illustration: SWUNG HIM DIRECTLY INTO HARDIE’S ARMS.] - -Hardie and Harrison as they dodged down the field under the kicks, and -nailed the receiver of the ball at his first step; but on the rushes -Westcott’s covered more ground, and the play gradually drew near the -Trowbridge end of the field. - -A series of successful line plunges had brought the Westcott offence to -the Trowbridge twenty-yard line, when the referee announced at the third -down that four yards of the necessary ten were still lacking. Mac -conferred with Harrison, and, falling back to the kicking position, -knelt at Talbot’s side. The quarter caught Ford’s pass, but instead of -placing the ball for a kick, he waited until the Trowbridge men were -sweeping down upon him, when he passed to Talbot, who threw the ball in -a long spiral that bored its way through the air far over the left side -of the line. Hardie was ready to receive it, and so was Ricker. They -came together with a shock, but Ricker was short and Roger tall, and the -Westcott man clutched the ball over his rival’s head, as the latter -tumbled him to the ground. The eight yards to the goal line Pete covered -in two downs. - -Sumner did not see the goal kicked; he was coasting along the side-lines -in search of his friend Smith. He found him at last, just as the elevens -were changing ends, standing alone near the corner of the field. - -“Great game, sir!” offered Sumner, politely. - -“I call it a very poor game,” answered President John, staring straight -before him. “That Trowbridge line is rotten.” - -“It’s hard to understand how they could beat Newbury seventeen to -three,” remarked Sumner, cheerfully. “About time enough left for another -touch-down, isn’t there?” - -Smith made no reply to this question, unless a scowl and an -unintelligible exclamation could be construed as a reply. But even thus -Sumner seemed to consider the conversation worth while, for as he -hurried back to the side of the Westcott coach, he was bubbling with -glee. - -With the score nine to nothing and the game nearly over, there seemed no -serious doubt as to the outcome. So thought Mac, at least, when Harrison -recovered the ball on a fumble near his fifty-yard line, and Pete punted -down close to the Trowbridge goal. It was high time that Sumner should -appear if he was to be sent into the game at all, but Yards made no move -to send him. Mac considered the matter at intervals, while he stood far -back waiting for his friends in the line to gain possession of the ball. -The result of his consideration was to arouse in his mind the suspicion -that Yards was working, not for a safe victory, but for a score which -would leave no doubt as to the success of his coaching. - -“Jack deserves a chance, and he is going to get it!” muttered Mac to -himself. “If it can’t come one way, it shall another.” - -The Westcott defence had just thrown back another attempt at a -skin-tackle play, and Harrison signalled to his quarter to be ready for -a kick. Mac was under the ball when it came down, and slipping by the -end, zigzagged a dozen yards up the field before he succumbed to two -hard Trowbridge tacklers. Ford came puffing back and took the ball from -his hand; but Mac, instead of scrambling to his feet and calling out his -signals as the team gathered, remained squirming on the ground. - -“What’s the matter?” asked Harrison, anxiously, as he knelt beside him. - -“My right ankle!” groaned Mac, twisting his face into an expression of -frightful pain. - -Time was called; Mike appeared with his water pail and sponge, closely -followed by Yards. Together they rubbed the injured joint, while Mac -writhed and moaned. - -“How much time is left?” he asked. - -“Three minutes.” - -“I’ll see if I can stand.” - -Yards and Harrison lifted the sufferer to his feet. He took a step with -his right foot, rested his weight on it,—and went down in a heap. - -“Do you think it’s broken?” asked the coach in alarm. - -“I guess not,” replied Mac, transforming a grin into a grimace, “but -you’ll have to send Jack in.” - -Yards called for Sumner, and the maimed quarter went hobbling off the -field, supported by Yards and Louis Tracy, and saluted by a booming -salvo from the graduates, and an impassioned cheer from the schoolboy -section. Yards proposed to send him directly to the dressing rooms and -call in a physician, but Mac pleaded piteously to be allowed to see the -game out. So he stood at the side-lines, leaning on Louis’s shoulder. - -“We should have made another touch-down if you hadn’t got hurt,” said -the coach, in a resentful tone, as Horr at the first signal was pushed -through outside Ben Tracy for a gain of five yards. “We had ’em on the -run.” - -“Jack will do just as well,” answered Mac, calmly. “He’s better on the -offence than I am.” - -In truth, Sumner had the advantage over Mac in some respects. He was -heavier, he got into the plays better, and he profited by his close -study of the game from the side-lines. The team reacted to a fresh -voice, while Sumner’s strength, applied at the critical instant, helped -to break the resistance and roll the wedge along. Outside guard, outside -tackle, around the end, changing his attack from side to side, Sumner -pushed his backs to a first down, to another, to a third. Then, when the -Trowbridge secondary defence concentrated close behind the line, he -worked a forward pass himself, running backward to make sure of his -throw, and delivering the ball safely into Tracy’s hands. Westcott’s was -on the Trowbridge ten-yard line, pressing hotly forward, when the -referee’s whistle put an end to the game. - -Mac lingered on the side-lines, waiting for an opportunity to -congratulate Sumner on his playing. As they walked together to the -dressing rooms, escorted by a half-dozen admiring youngsters, the -injured quarter forgot to limp. Close by the entrance Yards accosted -them. - -“You ran the team finely, Sumner,” he exclaimed, with radiant face. -Then, suddenly recalling Mac’s misfortune, he turned upon him and -demanded, “How’s that ankle?” - -“It seems all right now,” replied Mac, with an abrupt lapse from his -gayety. - -Yards gave him a sharp glance, and his eyes darkened ominously. “I -believe you—” he began, but the beseeching look on Mac’s face checked -him. “I’m glad it’s no worse,” he finished lamely. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER XV - - DUNN’S DISAPPOINTMENTS - - -JUBILATION and swaggering self-satisfaction reigned triumphant at -Westcott’s Monday morning. Certain small boys who had acquired a habit -of arriving half an hour before the time of opening so as to have -opportunity, before the advent of interfering teachers, for tag through -the play room and up the stairs, found their numbers doubled. Instead of -scampering wildly off like frolicsome kittens, they gathered in solid -clusters at their end of the big schoolroom and exchanged opinions and -reminiscences, sprinkling their conversation richly with comments like -“Wasn’t it great when Mac made that goal!” “Did you see Fat Bumpus slide -on his nose?” “I was dead scared that time when Trowbridge got down to -our ten-yard line!” “The paper said—” “Papa thought—” and so on, in a -series that developed itself by arithmetical progression. Richard -Sumner, who had a gift for drawing, spent ten minutes, hedged in by a -semicircle of admirers and supervised by Mike, in chalking on the board -a splendid figure of a plunging half-back, armed cap-a-pie, which he -reproduced by memory from a magazine cover. The breast of his player -rampant he covered with a huge W, and underneath he printed in neat -characters the score by games. When this was done, Mike produced a list -of an All-Triangular eleven, which he had elaborated over Sunday, and -defended with a great show of expert knowledge the right of seven -Westcottites to a place thereon. - -Then the older boys came in a bunch, driven in by the cold from the -corner outside. They took places in the alcove that commanded the -street, on watch for the members of the team as they arrived. Each one -as he appeared was signalled at a distance, and hailed by name and -applause as he entered the room. Harrison, of course, received a -prolonged salvo, but Talbot, Eaton, and Hardie were welcomed almost as -heartily, while Bumpus’s bruised face, and Mac’s complacent grin, called -forth a special demonstration. Last of all Sumner was seen, hurrying -late across the street, and an original salutation that would be sure to -rattle him was suggested by Wilmot—but the bell rang and spoiled it -all. - -At noon, by general agreement, ten minutes were taken from recess and -another ten from recitation,—a phenomenal concession on the part of Mr. -Westcott,—speeches were made, and the school cheered their throats and -enthusiasm out. It was a new experience for Roger Hardie to hear the -leader call his name, and to feel in the wholehearted volley, to read in -the enthusiastic faces bent upon him, that he was accounted worthy the -gratitude of the school; and his content was not lessened by the fact -that he had gained his place, against the general expectation, by his -own merit. Yet proudly happy though he was in the consciousness of a -certain success achieved, he felt no temptation to that silly vanity -which is too often the result of public praise, and transforms a -reasonably attractive boy into a bumptious, overweening cad. There was a -reason for this, other than natural modesty. Roger had conceived a new -ambition—to row on a school crew. Here again he stood at the foot of a -ladder. To gain a place he must push ahead of a dozen others whose -experience gave them a right to laugh at his pretensions. - -Dunn cheered with the rest, but every “rah” which he forced himself to -utter cost him as much effort as a line of Virgil dug out with a -vocabulary. He had been badly frightened by the incident of the Newbury -protest. The upper school had held him in a measure responsible for the -false position in which they found themselves—most unjustly, Dunn -maintained, since he had been but the bearer of a message. Certain -persons, more frank than polite, had said unpleasant things in his -hearing; his closest friends had for a time been cool toward him. When, -with the decision of the committee, the cloud passed, Dunn plucked up -spirit again, and for the last week of football practice really tried -hard to retrieve his reputation. He succeeded so far, indeed, that -Harrison held out hopes to him of getting into the Trowbridge game in -the second half, if things went well. But things did not go well, at -least from Dunn’s point of view, for at no time during the game had -Yards considered it safe to exchange the steady, clear-headed, -hard-tackling end for a substitute of doubtful quality. So Dunn was left -minus the coveted W, and plus a strong conviction that he had been -ill-used. It was not easy for him to forgive Hardie for robbing him of -his place and gaining the opportunity to achieve a triumph which Dunn -felt sure he could have achieved just as well. Equally unpalatable was -the fact that Hardie seemed to be established on good terms with the -influential set, of which Talbot, Sumner, Wilmot, and Trask formed the -solid centre. On the other hand, while there were many whom Dunn called -his friends, no one showed any great liking for his society except Ben -Tracy and Stover, neither of whom was able to help him along toward that -popularity for which his heart yearned. His poor recitation work also -seemed to count against him in this strange school in which the boys -actually held it the proper thing to work on lessons, and while they -pretended to make light of low marks, at bottom despised a numskull. Can -we wonder, then, that the disdain with which Dunn first regarded his -quiet housemate, Hardie, should have turned to envy? - -That afternoon Roger went down town with McDowell to buy their football -hatbands—a white background striped three times with blue, the outer -stripes wide, the inner one narrow. McDowell took his hat off as they -emerged from the shop, and gave the new decoration a long look of -admiration, regardless of the jostling crowd. “It’s not so pretty as the -crew band that Pete wears,” he said slowly, “but I’d a lot rather have -it. It means something.” - -“So does the crew mean something,” answered Roger. “It means more than -any band there is. Only a few fellows can get it, and at least a dozen -can sport football bands.—Put on your dip, you lunatic. They’ll think -you’re crazy!” - -Mac replaced his hat, pressing it down carefully on his hair, and giving -the brim a downward tilt. “The second crew get bands if they win their -race,” he said; “that’s eight, and the two coxswains make ten.” - -“But they don’t all get crew W’s. Only five fellows in the school have a -right to them. I’d rather wear a band as a member of the first crew, if -it were just one dirty yellow streak, than have both baseball and -football combined.” - -Mac laughed. “Why don’t you, then? All you have to do is to make the -crew.” - -“You can’t make the crew just by coming out for it. You’ve got to know -how to row, and it takes lots of practice to learn. There isn’t any -chance for an inexperienced man, with six or eight old fellows in school -who have all had a year or more of it.” - -“Isn’t there?” answered Mac, absently. He was looking about him at the -faces hurrying past, wondering that no one seemed to mark the -significant symbol that he bore. Just then a small boy in knickerbockers -and light top-coat, wearing a flat hat with white band edged with -blue—the regular Westcott hatband—appeared in front of them. He caught -sight of the new bands, glanced at the faces below, smiled, and, -stopping short in the crowd, fixed his gaze upon them, revolving in his -tracks as they passed. Here was one who knew the token. - -It is ever thus. The small boy looks up with veneration to the wearer of -the school letter. The school athlete admires the member of a freshman -team; the freshman adores the varsity captain who has so long worn the -stately letter that it has quite lost its glamor. The varsity captain -thinks chiefly of the task which he has taken upon his shoulders, and -admires only some lucky captain before him who won his race or his Yale -game, or some frail, pretty, unathletic girl whose weakness her -schoolboy brother flouts. So the chain is looped. - -“Who was that?” asked Roger. - -“Stanley Hale,” answered Mac, with a grin. “The football band is good -enough for him.—But why isn’t your chance for the crew as good as any -one’s? Pete’s a friend of yours.” - -“That’s just it: for that reason he wouldn’t put me on unless he had to. -But what’s the use of talking about it? I shall be lucky to get on to -the river at all.” - -That night Louis Tracy appeared at the dinner-table a little late. “Did -you get your bid for the Fridays, Ben?” he asked, turning to his cousin -as he unfolded his napkin. “I’ve got one.” - -Ben nodded. “Mine came this afternoon.” - -“I got mine this morning,” said Cable. - -“So did I,” announced Roger, who was feeling particularly happy. -Talbot’s brother had procured him a good seat for the Yale-Harvard game, -and Sumner had got his name put on the list for the dancing class. - -Dunn looked up inquiringly. “What’s that?” he demanded. “I didn’t get -anything.” - -“Just the Friday dancing class at the Crofton,” said Ben, carelessly. “A -good many of the fellows go.” - -Dunn pondered a few seconds, then blurted out, “How do you get into the -thing?” - -“I was on the list last year,” replied Ben. - -“So was I,” said Cable, answering a look from Dunn. - -“My Aunt Mary got me my invitation,” Louis Tracy explained. - -There was a moment of silence which to some at the table seemed a bit -awkward; but Dunn, who was determined to probe the matter to the bottom, -pushed boldly on. “How did you work it, Hardie?” - -“Mine came through Mrs. Sumner. She is one of the patronesses. Jack -asked me last week whether I’d like one, and I jumped at the chance.” - -At this point Mrs. Adams interposed a new topic of conversation, and the -tongues were soon flying at the usual rate over a safe course; but -Dunn’s voice, commonly the loudest and most insistent, was only heard -when a question was put directly to him. He ate his dinner in moody -silence, his face darkly clouded. In the middle of dessert he excused -himself, leaving the ice-cream half eaten on his plate. - -“It’s tough on poor Jason to get left out of the Fridays,” said Cable, -as the door closed behind him. - -“What in time did you want to bring it up for?” exclaimed Ben, turning -reproachfully on his cousin. - -“I didn’t think about it,” answered Louis. “Jason had no business -butting in, anyway.” - -“He’d have found out about it sooner or later,” suggested Cable. “We -were all as much at fault as Louis.” - -“Can’t you do something to help him out?” asked Roger. “You might get -him an invitation, Ben, I should think.” - -“Well, I can’t,” Ben answered impatiently. “I don’t run the things, and -none of my people do, either.” - -Later in the evening Dunn came into Ben Tracy’s room and sat down on the -bed. “Say, Ben,” he began, “can’t you help me to get an invitation for -that dancing class? I don’t care anything about the dancing part of it, -but it’s going to be awfully disagreeable to hang round here all winter -and be the only fellow left out. I shall be ashamed to live.” - -Ben didn’t answer. He knew very well that if he took Dunn’s name to his -Aunt Mary, she would want to know all about the applicant, his -character, appearance, manners, habits, church relations,—all about his -father, mother, relatives, acquaintances, ancestors, his father’s -business and his grandfather’s. And after her nephew had undergone the -cross-examination, she would probably refuse to help him and admonish -him to avoid such associations. - -“You might try Mr. Westcott,” said Ben, jumping at a stray idea, as -Jason jumped at answers in the history class. “He could get your name on -the list easily enough.” - -“He wouldn’t do it if he could,” answered Dunn, despondently. “He’s down -on me and would be glad of a chance to sting me and preach at me. If -your Aunt Mary can get one for Louis, she can get one for me, too. Try -her, won’t you? It’ll be the greatest favor you could do me. I’ll pay it -back sometime, I swear I will. Say you will, please!” - -Ben looked hard at the floor. He didn’t want to say yes, and he hadn’t -the heart to say no; yet something he must say. He lifted his eyes for a -moment to Dunn’s pleading face. - -“I’ll see what I can do,” he said. - -Dunn leaped forward and gripped his hand. “That’s the way to talk. You -can fix it up all right. I’ll make it good to you some day before the -year is out, ten times over!” - -Dunn went back to his own room, leaving his anxieties behind him. They -had settled on unlucky Ben, who brooded for a long time on the best way -to approach his hypercritical aunt. When he crawled into bed at last, he -was no nearer a satisfactory conclusion than when Dunn left him. - -“If I ask her and she refuses, Jason will be worse off than he is now,” -he muttered to himself as sleep crept over him. “I don’t know what to -do!” - -He knew no better when he awoke the next morning. As a result he did -nothing at all, except to pity himself as a victim of unkind fate. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - - MIKE ADVISES - - -THE next morning—it was the day for election of a football -captain—Roger found Pete and Jack Sumner in the cloak-room talking -earnestly together. “I want to ask a favor of you fellows,” he began, as -soon as he caught sight of them. “Everybody out at Adams’s has -invitations to the Fridays, except Dunn. He is awfully cut up about it.” - -“I can’t help it,” said Talbot. “It isn’t my fault if he doesn’t deserve -any.” - -“He’s no worse than Snobson and Newgeld,” insisted Roger. “They both got -in.” - -“Not with my help,” retorted Talbot. “What are _you_ bothering about it -for? He wouldn’t do it for you.” - -“I don’t care whether he would or not. It just isn’t a fair deal to -leave him out.” Roger turned to Sumner. “There’s no use talking to Pete; -he’s nothing but a savage. You’ll get it for him, Jack, won’t you? You -can work your mother for it. Think what it would be yourself to be left -out of a thing when all the others are in!” - -“Think what it would be to be Dunn,” said Pete; “that’s a much more -horrible thought.” - -But Sumner was a friendly soul. “If you’re really set on it, I’ll see -what I can do,” he said. “I shouldn’t want him to commit suicide out at -Adams’s!” - -Sumner’s words were exactly those which Ben Tracy had used to Dunn the -evening before, but his deeds, as will appear later, were wholly -different. - -Before the football meeting, Talbot suggested that Horr deserved the -captaincy, and would perhaps make as good a captain as any one else. -Roger assented readily, and cast his vote in accordance with Pete’s -suggestion. With Harrison, Eaton, Talbot, Sumner, and other boys of the -first class out, there was left little room for choice. He had not -thought of himself as a possible candidate. When the votes were counted, -and the announcement was made that Horr had eight votes, Hardie four, -with one each for McDowell and Ben Tracy, Roger felt grateful that four -fellows had thought so well of him as to give him the compliment of -their votes, but it did not occur to him either to question the loyalty -of friends or to wonder why Horr should be preferred before him. - -A day or two later Dunn came to the dinner-table beaming with joy, and -slapped Ben Tracy hard on the shoulder. - -“I’ve got it!” he announced jubilantly. “It’s all right.” - -“Got what?” asked Ben, staring blankly. The face which for the last -forty-eight hours had reflected nothing but spleen now shone with -satisfaction. - -Dunn flourished a square white envelope. “My invitation for the Fridays. -It was just delayed.” - -“Good for you!” exclaimed Cable. “I congratulate you,” purred Mrs. -Adams. Hardie smiled, but said nothing; Ben Tracy continued to stare, -puzzled to find that some good angel had relieved him of his unwelcome -task. - -After dinner Dunn drew Ben into the corner of the general room, and -poured fervent expressions of gratitude into his ear. “Talbot and Hardie -thought they were going to get me stung,” he exclaimed, “but they didn’t -succeed. I had some friends myself! You’ve helped me in this thing, all -right, Benny, and I won’t forget it!” - -“I haven’t done anything,” protested Ben, weakly, “at least nothing -worth while.” - -“It’s worth a lot to me. I’ll get even with you for it some day,—and -I’ll get even with that sucker, Hardie, too; he’s put those fellows -against me.” - -Dunn’s first step in getting even with Hardie was taken that very -evening, and the method of it showed that some of Jason’s brain cells -were more highly developed than those on which he relied in the -preparation of lessons. - -Just before bedtime he knocked at Roger’s door. “Hello!” he cried, -putting his head into the room. “Will you give me a lift on this -confounded Virgil?” - -“Certainly,” answered Roger. “Come in—. Doesn’t your trot tell you -about it?” he added with a sly grin. Dunn still adhered to the theory -that the literal translation affords an excellent short cut to -proficiency in an ancient language. The twenties and thirties that he -received on examinations were fully offset, Dunn maintained, by the -great success of his daily recitations. He always knew what the Latin -ought to say, anyway; he never made any crazy blunders such as Redfield -perpetrated. - -“I can’t make connections with the trot in this place,” answered Dunn, -calmly, “and Ben can’t. I don’t believe you can, either, if you did get -eighty on the exam.” - -Roger soon proved that he could—indeed, the problem presented no -difficulties except such as Dunn’s stupidity had raised or his cunning -invented. Having thus paved the way for his main business, Dunn leaned -against the door-post, and, holding a finger between the leaves of his -Virgil to strengthen the impression that he was stopping casually on the -way back to his interrupted work, began to talk. - -“You didn’t get the captaincy, did you?” - -Roger gave a good-natured little laugh. “No, I didn’t, and I didn’t -expect to.” - -“You came mighty near it.” - -“Four votes out of fourteen—that’s not very near.” - -“I don’t mean that. You know what I mean.” - -Hardie shook his head. - -“The day before the election it was all settled that you were to get it. -I heard so from McDowell and Bumpus and two or three others. Then -something happened, and the vote went the other way.” - -“What happened?” Roger was listening eagerly. - -“Talbot went against you and bulldozed ’em into electing Horr. You know -he’s always got to have his way.” - -Roger smiled bravely. “He probably thought Horr would make a better -captain.” - -“I don’t know what he thought. I know what he did. He pretends to be a -friend of yours, too.” - -“He _is_ a friend,” said Roger, quickly. - -“The way he treated you didn’t look much like it. Good night.” - -Dunn returned to his room fairly well satisfied with himself; he had -given Hardie something to think of that would take down his insufferable -conceit, a conceit which Dunn was convinced must be the worse since it -was masked by such a quiet exterior. - -In fact, if thinking was all Roger was expected to do, Dunn’s mission of -malice was wholly successful. Roger did think, lying awake an hour after -he went to bed, and fighting vainly against an insistent mental activity -that would not be cajoled by firm resolutions or new arrangements of -pillow; but the direction which his thoughts took was different from -what Jason had anticipated. A week before, he would have ridiculed the -idea of his being made captain; his ambition did not fly so high. Now, -when the opportunity had come and gone, when the honor which, it seemed, -had been almost within his reach, was bestowed upon another, he -understood how much he should have prized it. Why had Talbot interfered -against him? Surely not from ill-will, for the record of the season -proved him as stanch a friend as an insignificant new boy ever acquired; -nor from personal liking for Horr—they belonged to wholly different -sets in school. It must be, then, that Pete regarded him as incompetent -for the position. Moreover, if Pete thought so, it was probably true; he -was just a meek, harmless, flabby sort of fellow who happened to be able -to play a fair game at end, but wasn’t fit for leadership! Dunn’s shot -had wounded, but not in the spot at which it was aimed. Hardie’s -self-esteem was hurt, not his trust in Pete. - -The next morning he turned over the subject again as he dressed. “Pete -was right to think as he did, and yet he was wrong,” he said to himself. -“I should have made just as good a captain as Horr. The trouble with me -is that I’m always waiting for some one to recognize me and push me -forward. I haven’t confidence enough in myself; there’s where I’ve got -to change. I can do things when I have to. Why do I always act as if I -couldn’t?” - -He rode into town that morning with Mike. Mike’s society was usually a -pleasure. His mind was always brimful of the present. He knew exactly -what he thought on all the matters that entered into his experience, and -exactly what he wanted to do. Mike never hesitated through bashfulness, -nor wasted opportunities because of lack of faith to accept them! - -“You ought to have been football captain,” declared Mike, as they stood -on the back platform of a crowded in-bound car. “You’d make a lot better -one than Horr. Horr really doesn’t know the game. I told Pete Talbot so, -too. They needn’t think that because you’re quiet, you haven’t any push -in you. I know better!” - -“Thank you for your good opinion, Mike,” returned the smiling Hardie. -“What did Pete do, fire you out?” - -“No, he said he didn’t know but I was right. It ’ud have been fine to -have a captain at Adams’s. We haven’t had one since I’ve been in school. -There’s no one else there who’ll ever come near it.” He stopped, and a -sudden gleam flashed over his face. “I’ll tell you what to do,” he -exclaimed, “make the crew and be crew captain. That’ll be better yet!” - -Roger laughed aloud. “Make the Harvard Varsity, why don’t you say? I may -make the pair-oar if I’m lucky.” - -“You’ll never make anything if you talk like that,” answered shrewd -Mike. “You’re as bad as Jason, only the other way round. Jason thinks -he’s everything when he isn’t anything, and you tell people you aren’t -anything, and they believe you! You tell it and act it both. That’s not -the way to do.” - -And Hardie, being an open-minded youth, accepted this wisdom from the -lips of a babe, and resolved immediately that he wouldn’t act the -incapable any more, even if he must needs remain such. He didn’t tell -Mike so, however; that would be throwing improper encouragement to small -boys who criticised their betters. Instead, he gave a sudden jerk to the -visor of the boy’s cap that brought it forward on his nose, and said -reprovingly: “There’s one thing certain, Mike, _you’ll_ never suffer -from over-modesty. Now don’t say anything more about the football -captain. Horr’s elected, and we’re all going to help him the best we -can.” - -“Sure!” answered Mike, as he calmly restored his cap to the proper -place. “Don’t you suppose I know enough for that? I wouldn’t say what I -did to any one but you.” - -Dunn went to his first Friday in high feather, picturing to himself in -advance the conquests he should make. Dancing, he felt, was his strong -point. But Trask and Wilmot, the head ushers for the day, had laid -strict commands on their subordinates, and Jason was introduced to none -but “pills.” He did not suspect this fact until the afternoon was -two-thirds gone, when after beseeching three ushers in succession to -present him to Molly Randolph, a much talked-of “queen,” and being put -off with flimsy pretexts, he at last discovered that there was a plot -against his dignity. After that he sulked in the corner to which -ungallant youths retired when the attractive partners were taken and -only pills remained disengaged. Hardie, blest beyond his deserts, made -the acquaintance of numerous favorites and danced the german with Helen -Talbot, who amused him with a vivacious narrative of certain disputes -with Joe, in which, with the help of her older brother, she came out -victorious. Miss Helen vanquished Roger also, for she got him to promise -her a football hatband, which, as she frankly confessed, “Joe would -never give me in the world.” - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - - A KINDLED AMBITION - - -WESTCOTT’S was in some ways a bit old-fashioned. Holidays were -grudgingly given, visitors were not suffered to intrude on recitations, -and every school day was made a working day, with enforced privileges on -Saturdays if the week’s work was not satisfactorily done. Scholastic -flummery, the advertising quackery of shows and visitors’ days and -special programmes, found no favor with the authorities. If any -exception is to be made to this general rule, it must apply to the day -on which school closed for the Christmas holidays, when for half an hour -at the close of recitations the boys themselves took charge of the -schoolroom, and celebrated in their own way their approaching liberty -and their loyalty to the school. - -Even here the programme was very simple. When the twelve o’clock gong -sounded, the whole school assembled in the big room. Old Westcottites -from college poured in, thronging the wide doorway of the library, and -circling the end of the schoolroom in a long line. A representative of -the first class came forward, and in a little speech, delivered usually -with a flushed face and in a faint, agitated voice, presented to the -school a gift which should be a permanent reminder of the affection and -esteem of the outgoing class. Mr. Westcott then made a response, which -was followed sometimes by a few words from some teacher. After this -various boys chosen from the managing class stepped forward and led -cheers for the school, for the individual teachers, and for the athletic -teams. Then old boys, if any were bold enough, or unable to resist the -pressure put upon them, took their turn, and exhorted the school or -praised it, as inspiration (or their confusion) led them. No boy who was -present on the day when three captains of Harvard teams and two -class-day marshals—all old Westcottites—followed each other to the -platform, will soon forget the impression made by those stalwart -figures, intelligent faces, and sincere if inartistic speeches. Not the -bishop nor the learned professor nor the governor himself could so stir -the hearts of the school. These college men were authorities, men who -had achieved, heroes within the range of every boy’s admiration. - -This year, only one of these representatives from the upper world was -booked to address the school, but as he was no less a personage than -captain of the Varsity crew, he counted in general estimation tenfold. -Roger Hardie, being in the second class, played spectator and common -soldier in the cheering battalion. Mr. Westcott’s speech and Mr. Cary’s -left him rather cold; he had heard these gentlemen many times before in -various forms of discourse from cautious praise to unreserved -condemnation. But when Deering was demanded, and in response a tall, -broad-shouldered, deep-chested, bronzed young man emerged from the -library and pushed forward through a tumult of welcome, Roger’s heart -leaped to greet him. - -For half a minute Deering stood with his hand on the desk, waiting for -the din to subside. Roger fixed his eyes upon him, and in an intense -stare drank in an impression of the man. He was quietly dressed, his -necktie subdued, his trousers—Dunn might perhaps have noticed—not -absolutely fresh from the tailor’s goose. But Deering was one for whom -clothes could do little. Such bigness, honesty, cleanness, -determination, and withal such fresh unconquerable strength of youth, no -smart costume could adorn. In some manner he suggested Talbot—Talbot as -he might be four years hence, when his body had reached its growth and -the maturing influences of college life had tamed his explosive -violence. - -Deering’s speech was addressed to the first class. When the boys before -him reached college, he said, they would find certain men doing all -sorts of things that they’d better not be doing, wasting their money and -time and strength, and thinking that they were cutting a great figure. -There were plenty of such fellows hanging round the college, who were of -no use to the college or to themselves. They make a great mistake. No -one cares anything about them, and they don’t make good. The fellow who -has principles and tries to live up to them, who is willing to work hard -and keep faced in the right direction, is the man who is respected, -whether he makes a name for himself or not. - -“You’ve got to mean right and work right,” he said in closing. “You -can’t mean right unless you have principles to follow, and the only way -to work right is to work hard. Here in school is the place to make a -good start. I don’t need to say anything about your studies, for your -teachers will see to that, but in your athletics, unless there’s been a -big change since my day, there’s room for improvement. You want to play -fair and play like gentlemen, but play hard. Give the best of yourselves -to your practice as well as to your matches. Don’t fool, and don’t -shirk, and don’t quit. And when you come to college, don’t let any one -persuade you that the ideals and moral standards you’ve learned here -will have to be changed.” - -Had the Boylston Professor of Rhetoric from across the Charles been -present in the Westcott schoolroom that morning, he would have listened -patronizingly and given the speaker a passing grade in consideration of -his earnestness and good intentions. Had the professor spoken in -Deering’s place, the boys would have closed their ears to his careful -sentences and mentally marked him F—flat failure. They voted Deering A, -and after their reserved fashion, assented to his maxims and treasured -up his words. Even Dunn had visions of a time coming—in the dim future, -of course—when he should throw off his indolence and self-indulgence, -be a “good boy” and a grind, work like a Trojan in school and out, and -win back the ground that he had lost. When it came to baseball, he could -show them a few things! - -As for Roger Hardie, Deering’s exhortation, and even more Deering’s -personality, was as a match applied to tinder. His zeal took fire -immediately. If the rowing men were like Deering, if rowing made such -men, rowing was the thing for him! If honest, serious work profited at -all in this untried sport in which experience was held to be so -important, Roger would give that work ungrudgingly as long as his -presence was tolerated on the squad. This resolve sent him to the -gymnasium to exercise every day during the Christmas recess, when, save -for himself and Mike and two smaller urchins, Adams’s was bereft of -boys. It forced him to look upon himself as, in a fashion, consecrated -to a special ambition, none the less wholesome and potent because -cherished in secret. It made it easier for him to keep faith with his -parents and his own conscience in the presence of the insidious -temptations to which he, in common with all boys of his age, was -subjected. - -The tide of boys flooded back to school on the second of January, noisy -with reminiscences of good times enjoyed. Talbot came from a camp on the -shore of Cape Cod, where he had been shooting with Trask; Ben Tracy from -Montreal. Dunn had spent his freedom in New York, where he had “been to -something every night and had the highest old kind of a time.” The -anecdotes of his experiences furnished him amusement for a week; his -listeners tired of them in a much shorter time. Aside from these -anecdotes, Dunn brought back little that was new from his vacation, -certainly nothing so beneficial to himself or the school as an earnest -purpose. He continued to slide downhill with careless content, finding -specious excuses to present to teachers for classroom failures, and -flattering himself that he was playing a grand rôle in the eyes of his -mates as a jaunty, devil-may-care loafer. - -The winter term in all schools is sacred to work. The boys at -Westcott’s, under pressure at home and in school, on the whole did their -full stint with faithfulness and good-will. But there was no lack of -distraction abroad or fun at school. Outside were the official -amusements at Adams’s, skating at the Country Club, occasional dancing -parties, lectures for the intellectual, theatre for the frivolous, and -jolly visiting among friends for all. At school, some petty excitement -was always to be found. A lively recitation has its interest for a -keen-witted boy, especially if it exhibits a Dunn trying to palm off an -old excuse or a Redfield to originate a new blunder. Some one was -usually in trouble, and the trouble of a school-mate, if not too -serious, is always interesting to the bystanders. And there were -occasions when the amusement was not wholly innocent. - -The great fault with the Westcott lads was their thoughtlessness. They -had never known the sting of poverty, nor suffered from the want of -anything which it was at all desirable that they should have. Some of -them had feeble sense of the sacredness of property; a thing that could -be bought by a small requisition on their pocket-money possessed in -their eyes slight value. When Wilmot unscrewed an electric-light bulb in -the lower hall and flung it the whole length of the play room to smash -into a hundred pieces against the brick wall, he was simply yielding to -a reckless impulse of fun. He would have taken his punishment without -complaint if he had been caught, and he would have confessed the deed -honestly if he had been questioned; but he had no idea that he was -stealing. When Cable dropped a new stiff hat at the cloak-room door, and -half a dozen rascals immediately kicked it into tatters, they thought -they were having fun with Cable—until after an interview with Mr. -Westcott. If a book was left about the halls,—the owner had no business -to drop his books around,—some one was quite likely to use it as a -missile on his way out. Talbot and Hardie and Harrison and others of the -older boys regarded such an act as “kiddish”; Wilmot would commit it -because of uncontrolled recklessness, Dunn because he was a fool. - -It was the laboratory at the top of the building that offered to -heedless spirits the greatest temptation. Here both the chemistry and -the physics classes performed their experiments and made their -recitations. Mr. Cary, the instructor, was neither incompetent nor a -weakling; but he couldn’t be in the laboratory all the time nor in all -parts of it at the same time. Interesting experiments were tried that -had no place in the text-book. For two weeks a jar hidden in the corner -served as a receptacle for odds and ends of chemicals, and was visited -surreptitiously every day by various members of the class, curious to -see what new color it had taken on. Reeves discovered that a cent could -be silvered by dipping it in nitric acid, then in mercury, and then, for -an instant, in the acid again. Thereupon a mania for silvering objects -suddenly developed which had to be repressed by official order. With a -piece of glass tubing drawn to a point and attached by a rubber hose to -a faucet, Trask found that he could throw a fine jet of water to a -considerable distance. He used to train this with great effect on -persons standing yards away, the spray being invisible but very -distinctly felt. It struck Hardie one day in the back of the neck just -above his collar, as he was standing beside Mr. Cary’s desk. He couldn’t -turn round or dodge the stream, for Mr. Cary was looking over his -note-book, and any movement would have betrayed the offenders. So he -stood helpless, furtively swabbing with his handkerchief at the back of -his head, but failing with all his efforts to dam the stream that -trickled down his back. - -Impunity encourages. One day at recess, some scapegrace made an -obnoxious mixture in an open dish by means of iron sulphide and -hydrochloric acid, and fled for his life, leaving the laboratory door -open. The fumes descended the stairways and reached the noses of -innocent sufferers below. Mr. Westcott and Mr. Cary arrived at the -laboratory simultaneously, hot on the scent, and took counsel together. -Later in the day Mr. Westcott called the laboratory classes into his -room and demanded the culprit. No one volunteering, he explained the -danger and wrong of fooling in the laboratory, and declared that he -should punish severely any further misdemeanor, even if it were -necessary to inflict the penalty on the whole class. - -As Mr. Westcott was not given to idle threats, there was seriousness on -the top floor—for a time. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - - THE SHOOTING MATCH - - -SATURDAYS Roger usually had to himself. On these days he took advantage -of his freedom to visit the library or a museum, or strolled about the -city, entertaining himself with the shop windows and the mob of -bargain-hunters. Occasionally he hunted up some landmark of history -which appealed to his interest, turning aside on the way for a glimpse -of the waterside or the markets or the queer foreign quarter where the -native-born American feels himself a trespasser and is grateful for the -presence of a policeman a block away. As he was new to the fascinating -variety of city scenes, his attention was often caught by objects which -his town-bred companions passed without noticing, either because they -lacked curiosity, or because familiarity with city streets had made them -indifferent. - -On two or three occasions, while traversing an irregular old square, -Roger had noticed a second-story sign bearing the words: “Professor -Pillar, Magicians’ Supplies and Novelties. Outfits for Professionals and -Amateurs. Come In and See Us.” One morning in February he decided to -accept this invitation. He found himself in a little dusty room packed -full of juggler’s paraphernalia. A friendly old man with very nimble -fingers greeted him warmly, and pressed upon him various tricks and -trinkets with such persuasiveness that Roger left the wizard’s cave -poorer by a dollar and a half, and richer by a variety of queer -acquisitions. - -When he reached his room, he spread out his purchases on the desk before -him and assured himself with some heat that it was unquestionably true -that a fool and his money are soon parted. While he was thus making -himself uncomfortable with reproaches, Mike happened in and became -enthusiastic over the collection. - -“I’ll sell them to you,” offered Roger. - -Mike considered. “How much?” - -“Just what I gave for them.” - -“You wouldn’t do that unless you wanted to get rid of ’em,” remarked -Mike, shrewdly. “I’ll give you a dollar for the lot.” - -The haggling spun itself out to a length which would prove tedious to -the reader if the conversation were reported in detail. The upshot of it -all was that Roger reserved two articles from the collection, and sold -the balance to Mike for the sum which the latter had first offered. - -“Now what are you going to do with them?” asked Roger, when the dollar -had been paid and the goods delivered. - -“I’ll tell you,” returned Mike, proudly, “but you must keep it to -yourself and not bring in anything more to spoil the market. I’m going -to show one of ’em downstairs when there are a lot of kids around, and -then auction the thing off. After a few days I’ll bring out another and -auction that off, and so on, till they’re all gone. If I don’t make -fifty per cent on the trade, I’ll give you back your money.” - -It took Mike three weeks, we may add in dismissing the incident, to -carry out his programme, but in the end he got back his dollar, together -with a clear profit of seventy-one cents. - -Among the objects which had caught Roger’s eye at the juggler’s were -so-called “shooting matches,” which came in little boxes like those -which contain safety matches. In appearance they resembled cigar -lighters, with a smooth brown coating running up two-thirds of an inch -from the tip; in action their vigor was such as to fill the heart of a -non-possessor with envy. If you held one in your hand after the first -flare of ignition, you got a very pretty series of tiny explosions that -gave you a pleasant little thrill, and to the ignorant onlooker an -amusing little shock. If the ignorant onlooker could be beguiled to -strike one himself before he saw any of its fellows at work, he -furnished you pleasanter thrills by dropping his match in a panic at the -first pop and jumping about delightfully as it finished its performance -on the floor. - -In his deal with Mike, Roger reserved two boxes of these fireworks, -meaning to exhibit them at the next afternoon gathering in Trask’s roof -chamber, where special cronies occasionally assembled on Trask’s -invitation and amused themselves with jokes and gossip. Here, if the -truth is to be told, some boys smoked a little,—as a rule smoking was -considered not the thing at Westcott’s,—and it would be a great joy to -offer the innocent brown-tipped object to the desperate character who -announced that he was going to try a pipe. On this occasion Wilmot was -one of the first to arrive and the first to be tricked; afterwards he -became a leader in entrapping the others. As smokers were few, -non-smokers had to be drawn on; they were beguiled with invitations to -light papers in the fireplace. Talbot, who appeared late and found a -circle of ten eager to see him light a match, became suspicious and -declined the privilege. “Light it yourself, if you want it lighted!” he -said grimly. “What’s the good of doing it, anyway?” - -“Just for the fun,” pleaded Wilmot. “You needn’t be scared; it won’t -hurt you.” - -“We all did it, and you’ve got to,” announced Trask. “If you don’t, -you’ll have to smoke a big cigar.” - -“It’ll take more than this bunch to make me do that,” answered Pete, -looking round in smiling defiance. “I’m no cigarette sucker!” - -“He’s trying to get out of it!” declared Wilmot, triumphantly. “A -football player and captain of the crew hasn’t the sand to light a piece -of paper!” - -“He’s just contrary-minded, that’s all,” Sumner threw in. “He won’t do -it because we want him to.” - -“Oh, if you want me to, that’s different,” answered Pete. “Anything to -oblige such dear friends. Only I won’t take Steve’s match; he’s too -forward. Here, Roger, give me one. I’ll trust you.” - -Roger drew out his second box, took a match from it, and handed both to -Talbot. Pete stooped to perform the task expected of him, read the -inscription on the box, and decided instantly on the course to be -pursued. At the first explosion he whirled about with the sputtering -thing in his hand and plunged toward Wilmot, who sprang away from him -with a yell of fright. - -“Aha!” cried Talbot, dramatically, as he threw the spent match into the -fireplace, “who’s the sandless one now? He’s afraid of his own innocent -little matches!” - -“They aren’t mine,” replied Wilmot, a little rattled by the fact that -the laugh had turned against him. “They belong to Hardie, and he won’t -tell where he got ’em.” This last statement was added in the hope that -it might lead the conversation away from his own discomfiture. “Did you -ever know such a hog?” - -“Let him discover the place himself, as I did,” protested Roger. “He’s -lived in the city all his life.” - -“Don’t tell him,” advised Talbot. “He’s better off without ’em.” - -And then the whole company fell to questioning Roger, as in a game, -concerning the kind of shop at which the matches were procured. He -answered all questions truthfully, though insulting doubts as to his -honesty were cried aloud before the end of the list was reached, a list -which began with possibilities such as groceries, drug stores, cigar -stands, news stands, street fakirs, toy-shops; proceeded with dealers in -firearms, fireworks, sporting goods—and tailed out into the most -idiotic suggestions that foolish brains could originate. Wilmot capped -the climax by declaring that it was from a school-supply house that the -matches came. “They’re for use in school,” he shouted with glee; “that’s -what they’re for!” - -Hardie laughed and shook his head. - -Then Wilmot started on a new course, and pleaded for a few out of the -new box. - -“You’ve got a whole boxful, and I’ve only one left,” he urged. “Go -halves, and I won’t call you a hog any more.” - -But Hardie was still obdurate. “Children shouldn’t have matches,” he -said. - -Wilmot turned away in disgust. “You’re worse than a hog, you’re a whole -drove of swine! I wouldn’t look over the edge of the sty at you!” - -The next morning Roger relented. He didn’t feel at all sure that Wilmot -was to be trusted with tools of such potential power for disturbance; -but like all right-minded boys, he hated to be considered stingy. He -hunted up Wilmot as soon as he reached school the next morning and -reopened the case. - -“Do you still want those things, Steve?” he asked. - -“Sure I do,” answered Wilmot, promptly. “I think you might at least tell -me where you got ’em.” - -“Well, you can have my box. Only you must be careful with them.” - -Wilmot pocketed the box with alacrity. “I’ll be careful, all right. You -don’t suppose I’d set the building on fire, do you?” - -“No, not that! You don’t have to do that to get into trouble.” - -“You needn’t worry. I’m not looking for trouble.” - -Wilmot never was looking for trouble; he had no need to do so, as it had -a habit of coming to him unsought. The caution, too, which he had -promised to exercise, was rather of a wily than a practical character, -as was demonstrated by his conduct when he reached the laboratory that -morning. Six or eight fellows were already there waiting for the new -experiment to be announced; Mr. Cary was still on the stairs; and -Redfield and a few others had gone down for books. - -“I’ve got Hardie’s matches!” Wilmot called eagerly to the waiting -audience, “and I’m going to put ’em in the back part of my drawer. If -any fellow should happen to take one out, break off the end, and put it -into Reddy’s sand bath, why, I shouldn’t know anything about it. See?” - -“None of it for me,” remarked Trask. “I’m not going to run my head into -any noose.” - -“You haven’t the nerve,” said Wilmot. - -“Neither have you, or you’d do it yourself!” - -Mr. Cary now appeared with the laggards, and the class was soon set to -work. On one boy Wilmot’s short address made a deeper impression than -the directions of the teacher. Dunn had long been casting about for some -easy means of raising himself in the popular esteem. While he felt no -doubt that his true worth must appear as soon as the baseball season -began, he was unwilling that this recognition should be postponed to so -late a day if he could achieve it earlier. Here was an opportunity to -take a long step forward by accepting the general challenge which Wilmot -had issued, and proving himself a bold fellow when Trask had -acknowledged that he did not dare and Wilmot himself hung back. - -A sand bath, as most of my readers know, is a bowl-shaped vessel filled -with sand in which fragile glass flasks are placed in order to insure an -even heat. A bunsen burner under the sand bath heats the sand, and, -through the sand, the flask and its contents. Redfield had just lighted -his burner and was busy weighing out his chemicals. Dunn passed behind -him, and directing his attention to something across the room, tucked a -match-end into the sand in Redfield’s bath and went on to his own table. -Scarcely three minutes had elapsed when the half-dozen lads who had been -watching furtively over their work heard a slight explosion, followed -immediately by an exclamation from Redfield, who went crashing back on -the row of tables behind. At the same time they beheld a small geyser of -popping sand spurt into the air and descend in a shower about the -burner. - -Mr. Cary rushed to the spot, likewise all the boys, both those who were -in the secret and those who were not. “Go back to your work!” ordered -the teacher, and the boys slunk away, though not beyond earshot. “What’s -this, Redfield?” he asked sharply. - -The victim of the explosion, having recovered from his fright, stood -giggling with nervousness. “My sand blew up, sir,” he said. - -“Do you know what made it do so?” demanded Mr. Cary, sternly. - -“No, sir. I was standing right here waiting for the thing to heat. It -went off all of a sudden, right up in the air, and kept snappin’ all the -way up.” - -“And you know absolutely nothing more about it?” - -“Not a thing!” answered Redfield, with evident honesty. “I wouldn’t blow -myself up if I could help it.” - -There seemed no reason to doubt the truth of Redfield’s statements; he -was not only incapable of skilful dissembling, but also, as was -generally known, a favorite target for heartless schoolboy pleasantry. -Mr. Cary, therefore, asked no further questions, but turned off the gas -from the burner, and dumping out the smoking sand poked it over in -search of clews to the explosion—to the great delight of the half-dozen -unworthies who were in the secret. Finding nothing, he bade Redfield -start again with fresh sand, and returned to his desk. - -A half-hour later Fluffy Dobbs’s mess blew up in the same way. This time -the instructor, being hardly a dozen feet away, caught the full effect. -He came directly to the smoking bath, but though his face blazed with -indignation, he was too wise to embark on an interrogation which was -unlikely to yield positive results. - -“Don’t you think something is the matter with the sand, sir?” asked -Wilmot, innocently. “Perhaps there’s nitre in it.” - -“It isn’t likely.” - -“Can this have anything to do with it?” suggested Wilmot, offering a -charred bit of wood which he had picked up from the floor. The -instructor took it, smelled of it, and shook his head. “I don’t know,” -he said. “If these explosions are due to the sand, it is a remarkable -occurrence. If they were deliberately caused, it is a very dangerous and -culpable form of joke. We shall take only one experiment to-day. As soon -as you have finished with that, you may go.” - -Mr. Cary stood close to Wilmot’s desk during the rest of the exercise, -either because it was in a central position or because he saw in the -disturbance the fine Italian hand of that young gentleman. One awkward -result for Wilmot was that, not daring to take the match-box from his -drawer in the presence of the teacher, he was obliged to leave it behind -when he went. Dunn, too, made a misplay. He had used two of the three -matches taken from Wilmot’s box on Redfield and Dobbs; not knowing what -to do with the third, he broke off the end and poked it into the bag of -fresh sand which stood at the end of his table. - -The first thing Mr. Cary did after the boys had left the laboratory was -to examine the sand in the bag. At the very top, like Benjamin’s cup -hidden in the mouth of the sack, he found the match-end which Dunn had -placed there. He compared this with the charred piece picked up by -Wilmot. Over these he mused a few minutes; then, with the instinct which -sends the police, after an important break, to the haunts of certain -well-known criminals, he went straight to Wilmot’s drawer. There, under -the soiled laboratory coat, he discovered the fatal box. He broke off a -match-head, put it into a sand bath, and in five minutes had an -explosion of his own. After that he gathered up his exhibits and hied -him to Mr. Westcott’s office. - -The laboratory excitement furnished a topic of deep interest to certain -groups during the lunch hour. Dunn, who was sure that he had made a hit, -talked largely of his achievement. Wilmot, though pleased with the -unexpectedly full success of his idea, was a little worried that he had -been forced to leave his treasure in the laboratory. It wouldn’t do to -use the thing too often, and Dunn was capable of firing off all the -precious matches in a day. By the end of recess, largely through Dunn’s -enthusiastic narratives, the incident had been aired among the older -boys. Towards two o’clock word came to Wilmot that he was wanted in the -head-master’s office. - -What happened in the half-hour during which Wilmot was closeted with Mr. -Westcott was never fully known to the boys. Steve spoke of it very -unwillingly, and his memory of such scenes was never good. The instant -he saw the fatal box of shooting matches on the table before him, he -knew that it was all up with him, and his only course was to obtain the -best terms of surrender possible. The terms were hard. He was suspended -from school for a week. His parents were to be notified; he was to make -up all lost lessons at home with a tutor; the school was to be informed -of the misdeed and the penalty; he was not to return to the chemistry -class unless Mr. Cary expressed a desire to give him another trial. -Against the suspension Steve pleaded piteously; he would copy thousands -of lines, stay after school hours every day, apologize to anybody and -everybody,—if only the message didn’t go home. But Mr. Westcott was -inexorable; the letter was posted that very afternoon. - -The next day was a bitter one for Steve Wilmot. Immediately after -breakfast his mother retired to the privacy of her chamber to weep; his -father paced the library for some time before he could calm himself -sufficiently to give the boy a hearing. It was not the first occasion on -which Steve had brought unhappiness upon his family. From the day when -he began to walk he had been blundering into scrapes. He had been dealt -with by all recognized methods of discipline. Severe punishment, -denunciation, threats, gentle remonstrance, pleading, exhortation, loss -of allowance—none had prevailed to change his nature. A psychological -expert had once declared that since Steve’s escapades were mere boyish -tricks without malice, they would be outgrown in time. The hope born of -this assurance had carried the parents over such shocks as the visit of -policemen to warn against trespassing in the public garden, or an -indignant letter from a good lady whose cat Steve had snowballed as the -dear animal was taking an innocent walk on the alley fence. Now it -appeared that their hope had been a delusion, for suspension from school -was a humiliation which the family had hitherto been spared. Mr. Wilmot -talked gravely about putting the young man to work, but he didn’t mean -it. In the end, he accepted Steve’s promise that he would walk -circumspectly hereafter all the days of his life. Mrs. Wilmot also found -comfort in the reflection that Steve was at bottom neither dishonest nor -vicious, and that the salutary effect of the lesson might be expected to -outlast the four remaining months of his school career. After all, he -might have done worse things than carry shooting matches into a school -laboratory. So she dried her tears and hoped again. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER XIX - - A LOSS TO THE NINE - - -MEANTIME the school had heard the proclamation of the sin and its -punishment, and looked upon Wilmot’s vacant seat. The exile was missed. -Dunn chuckled ecstatically over the amusing fact that the official -lightning had passed by the bold man of action and struck the crafty -suggester. His merriment was coldly received. - -“You’d better shut up, Jason,” said Trask, roughly. “Any fool can stick -a match into a sand box when he’s given the match and told how to do -it.” - -“And no one but a fool would have put that one into the bag,” declared -Eaton. “I believe that’s what gave poor Steve away.” - -“That’s right,” said Sumner, in confirmation. “And Steve said one, not -three. If only one had gone off, Cary wouldn’t have suspected anything, -and Steve wouldn’t have got stung. You gave the thing dead away.” - -Dunn, who had by this time lost all pride in his handiwork, glowered -across the table. “If he was afraid of getting stung, he ought to have -kept clear of the thing altogether,” he growled. “He took his risk, and -I took mine. It isn’t my fault if he left his matches in the drawer!” - -“He wouldn’t have left them there if Cary hadn’t forced him to, and Cary -wouldn’t have been standing over him if you hadn’t tried to burn the -whole box at once.” This, from Trask, was but a repetition of Sumner’s -argument. - -“You both ought to be spanked,” remarked Talbot. “It isn’t fair that one -should be soaked and the other not.” - -“Would you have me go to Westcott and say, ‘I’m guilty, please sting me -too?’ I see myself doing that!” Dunn gave a derisive laugh at the idea. - -“No one who knows you would expect that of you,” replied Talbot, -significantly. “It wouldn’t do any good, either. Hardie tried to help -Steve out by confessing that he brought the matches to school and -offering to take part of the punishment, but it wouldn’t go.” - -Dunn sniffed his contempt. “And old Westcott soaked him for it.” - -“No!” answered Talbot, shortly. “He isn’t that kind of a man.” - -After this conversation Dunn avoided all reference to the laboratory -incident, and would have been glad to have the others forget it, but -they continued to regard him as responsible for Wilmot’s misfortune, and -withdrew their favor from him. Those were unpleasant days for Archibald -Dunn; no one at Adams’s would have much to do with him, and the -conviction, in part justified, that he was not receiving from the boys a -fair deal kept him morose and sulky. Moreover, frank letters concerning -his work were going home to his parents, which served to plunge him more -deeply in trouble. Having shirked and trifled so long, he was well-nigh -incapable of doing anything else. - -About the time of Wilmot’s return to school, Talbot called out the -candidates for the crew. They came in a flock, ranging in size from -Bumpus the fat to McDowell the small, and in degrees of chance according -to the popular estimate, from Talbot the sure-to-make-it to any one of a -half-dozen equally sure not to make it. - -“What’re you doing here, Bump?” asked Mac. “You don’t suppose any crew -could pull you, do you?” - -“I’m out for the exercise,” responded Bumpus, unruffled. “What’re _you_ -doing here? You don’t suppose you could pull any one, do you?” - -“I’m out for the fun,” explained Mac. “There’s nothing doing, and I’m -tired of the gym.” - -These two, of course, were among those considered sure not to make it. -Where Hardie stood, no one could tell until he began to row on the -machines, and then the experts opined unanimously that his chances were -slim. The captain arranged the candidates in fours to suit himself. -There was a first four, which Talbot stroked, made up of the fellows -left in school who had rowed in the first or second boat the year -before. Then a second containing those of unofficial rank but known -experience; and after these, squads of four taken without much care in -grouping. All the instruction they received was such as could be given -by the captain or his aids. - -Roger got a place at two in the third squad, and did what he could to -carry out the directions given him—pull his stroke through hard all the -way, recover sharply, start his slides back with a gradual, deliberate -movement, and use his legs. It was all new and strange to him, so -totally different from anything he had tried before that experience in -rowing in an ordinary skiff with an ordinary pair of oars seemed of no -help whatever. He perceived his awkwardness quite as clearly as the -bystanders who whispered together as they watched him,—and he felt it -besides, as they could not. The secret ambition which he had cherished -since the day when Deering made the speech in school assumed the form of -an absurd presumption. But he had no thought of giving up. - -Bumpus got his exercise, and Mac his fun. The others got fun, too, when -Bumpus rowed, for he proved the jolliest clumsy porpoise that ever -tried to sit in a boat. He was too big for his seat. He couldn’t get -forward to begin stroke, and when he finished, the chances were even -that he couldn’t recover at all. His candidacy was of short duration. -Talbot had to get rid of him to keep his squad under control. - -Mac, on the other hand, took to the practice as if he had done it for -years. Every suggestion made to him was translated immediately into his -stroke. From catch to finish, from recovery to catch, his stroke seemed -one blended, graceful movement. - -“What a pity he isn’t bigger!” said Talbot to Eaton, who stood beside -him. “He’s a natural oarsman.” - -The second day McDowell stroked the third crew, while Hardie blundered -along on the fourth. A fortnight later he was still blundering along, -with nothing to sustain his courage but a resolution to hang on as long -as there was anything to hang to. - -And now Dunn received a blow that hurt. The call had gone forth for -candidates for baseball, and Dunn’s name appeared near the head of the -list. Mr. Westcott then summoned Dunn to an official interview, in which -he informed the sanguine ball player that in consequence of his -continued poor performance of school work, he could not be allowed to -play on the nine. “We have kept you here,” said the head-master, “in -spite of your neglect, only because we were not willing to believe that -a boy could be six months among us without catching from teachers and -boys something of the spirit of serious work. So far, we have apparently -failed to make any impression upon you. At the present time there is not -a single subject in which you could be recommended for college -examinations. This being the case, we cannot allow you to assume new -responsibilities which would interfere still further with your study.” - -And then the teacher made a serious attempt to bring home to the -misguided boy the wrongfulness and folly of his course, but Dunn heard -nothing but the fact that for him there was to be no baseball. His -answers were given in stolid monosyllables; he went forth suffocating -with rage. - -No one knew better than Dunn that his school life had been a failure, -but his point of view was very different from that of his teachers. -Dunn’s scholastic ideal was formed somewhat on the lines of Kipling’s -Stalky. To dodge one’s work, outwit one’s teachers, and triumph at -examination by luck and cleverness represented to Dunn the only truly -desirable way of conquering school drudgery. The real thing was to be -popular, to be in the important set, to play on the teams, and be talked -about. When Stalkyism, as exemplified in Dunn’s recitation career, -proved a flat failure, and the expected popularity turned out to be only -a kind of contemptuous freedom to disregard him, he had consoled himself -with assurances of a different experience on the baseball field, where -he should shine with no uncertain light. Now with a single word Mr. -Westcott had robbed him of his opportunity. He felt like a soldier who -at the critical moment of defence finds that his cartridges have been -stolen and that he is at the mercy of the enemy. - -Stover listened to his tale, deeply disgusted. Braggarts are usually -liars or victims of delusion, but occasionally one is found to make good -some of his boasts. Stover had investigated Dunn’s baseball career and -believed in him. - -“It’s a low-down trick!” he burst forth. “That’s the way they do here. -If they find a fellow who can play something, they scare up some excuse -to rule him out. Anything to discourage athletics!” - -“I suppose it’s no good to kick,” said Dunn, despairingly. - -“I’ll tell you what to do. Go to the old man and play the penitent. Tell -him that you’ve done wrong, and that you’re going to study hard from now -on. If you can put it up to him strong enough, he’ll fall on your neck -and forgive you. You’ll have to make a good bluff at work for the next -two or three weeks until you get your reputation up, but it won’t hurt -you any to do that. Some of the fellows out there at Adams’s will give -you a lift. There’s Hardie, now; he’s a good-natured fellow and a pretty -good scholar; he’d help you out if he knew what you’re up against.” - -“I guess not,” said Dunn, hopeless. “He’s always been down on me.” - -“I don’t believe it. He got you that invitation last fall for the -dancing school. I don’t see why he shouldn’t help you now.” - -“It wasn’t Hardie. Ben Tracy got it,” corrected Dunn, quickly. - -“Ben Tracy nothing! It was Hardie. I heard Sumner talking about it at -the time. It was Hardie that did it. He isn’t so conceited as some of -that crowd. If you go at him right, he’ll help you. Now do as I say, and -see what comes of it.” - -This news concerning the invitation to the dancing class—he had not -forgotten his anxiety at the time—set Dunn’s thoughts in a new -direction. The more he recalled the circumstances, which included Ben’s -clumsy disclaimer, the more he was inclined to believe that Stover was -right. For the first time during the year Dunn clearly perceived that he -had been in some respects a silly fool. For the first time it dawned -upon him that some of these fellows whom he had been so ready to -disparage might be in reality better and more deserving of honor than -he. He was honest enough to recognize that if he had been in Hardie’s -place he would have acted in a far different way. - -Following Stover’s counsel, he went to Mr. Westcott with an artificial -penitence on his lips; but there was already a half-formed, half-real -penitence in his heart. By what means Mr. Westcott pierced his shell and -made this half-penitence wholly real, we may not inquire. The -head-master had a skill in such interviews, the product of much -experience and a genuine desire to help rather than to punish; and -Dunn’s career offered few points capable of defence, when considered -with frankness and honesty. That his repentance was indeed real, and his -resolution to face about, was, for the moment at least, genuine, is -proved by two circumstances: first, he acquiesced, though sadly, in Mr. -Westcott’s decision that if he was to regain lost ground, he could not -afford the time and the thought which school baseball required; -secondly, he confessed, unsolicited, many of his misdeeds, including his -part in the episode of the sand bath. - -“I suspected it,” said Mr. Westcott, “but we won’t consider that now. -That belongs to the past. We start anew to-day.” - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER XX - - IN THE PAIR-OAR - - -DUNN’S change of heart was not as sudden as it seemed. A boy often -builds for himself a certain structure of false principle which it -gratifies his vanity to consider his permanent philosophy of life. When -faults in this structure develop, he shuts his eyes to them or patches -them with flattering sophistries; and even when the foundations are -actually crumbling away, he affects a firm confidence because he is too -weak to face the task of rebuilding. In the end some bitter experience -may undermine the last support and bring down the edifice with a crash. - -So it was with Dunn. He had been aware for some time that he was on the -wrong track, but he could not bring himself to acknowledge the fact. The -information that even when he felt most bitter against Hardie, Hardie -had secretly done him a good turn, stirred his sense of shame and -disproved his assumption that all the boys had been down on him from the -beginning. He recognized clearly enough now that he had been making a -fool of himself, and that the only sensible course was to retrace his -steps and start anew in a different path. He went that evening to -Hardie’s room, announced that he was going to turn over a new leaf, and -asked if he might drop in occasionally for a lift over a hard place. He -said nothing of the dancing-school invitation; that lay now too far away -in the past. - -Hardie met him so cordially that Dunn was moved to open his heart still -further. “What is the matter with me, anyway?” he demanded bluntly. “I -wish you’d give me the bottom facts, right out straight.” - -Hardie smiled. “You don’t do any work.” - -“Oh, I know all about that. I’m a loafer and a goat besides. I don’t -mean about studies. Why don’t the fellows like me?” - -“Oh, I don’t know,” answered Hardie, warily. “Don’t they like you?” - -“No, they don’t. You know they don’t. Now, what is it?” - -Roger looked shyly across the table at the questioner; he didn’t know -what to answer. - -“Spit it out!” insisted Dunn. “Just give me the truth. I can stand it.” - -“Well,” said Roger, slowly, “for one thing, you talk too much.” - -Dunn stared. “I don’t think that’s such a crime. I’m nothing compared -with Wilmot. His tongue’s going all the time.” - -“Oh, he’s different,” exclaimed Roger, hastily. “He talks a lot of -trash, but he’s amusing, and the fellows like it. He never talks about -himself.” - -“And my talk isn’t amusing and is always about myself.” - -“Not that exactly, but you’re always thinking about yourself. You don’t -take much interest in anybody else.” - -“It isn’t easy to do it if they won’t let you,” said Dunn, with a gloomy -smile. “What else?” - -“Your ideas are different from theirs. You think things are funny that -they don’t. They don’t like your way of looking at things.” - -“In other words I’m all wrong,” growled Dunn, in disgust, as he rose to -go. “I couldn’t please ’em, anyway, and I shan’t try it, but I’m going -to stop talking and cut out smoking and get right down to work.” - -“For how long?” asked Roger, with a grin of incredulity. - -“Right through the year,” returned Dunn, hotly. “You don’t believe me, -but you wait and see!” - -With this bold assertion on his lips, Dunn made for his room. The door -was just closing behind him when Roger called out, “Oh, Jason!” - -Dunn returned, closed the door and backed against it. - -“Aren’t you going to play ball at all?” - -“No; what’s the use? If I can’t play on the team, I might as well cut -the whole thing out and study.” - -“You can’t study all the time. You might come out just the same and play -on the second and pitch for batting practice. It would show the right -spirit, and the fellows would appreciate it. You know how they all felt -about Sumner.” - -“I won’t do it,” answered Dunn, stubbornly. “I’ve been cut off from the -team, and now it’ll have to get along without me. Sumner always had a -chance to get on the team again; I’m out of it for good.” - -The time had come for the crews to take to the river. The Boston schools -row under the patronage of the Boston Athletic Association, which -provides boats and coaches, arranges for the races, and furnishes -prizes. Each school enters two fours, a first and second, which compete -in separate races. As Westcott’s possessed a pair-oar of her own, there -were places in the boats for ten men exclusive of the coxswains. Talbot -narrowed down his squad to eleven, allowing an extra man for accidents -and illness, and getting rid of the rest by the easy method of not -inviting them to report on the river. Hardie, to his delight, received -orders to bring his rowing clothes to the boat-house. He did so fully -conscious that his destination was neither the first nor the second. -Talbot had said nothing to this effect,—indeed, Talbot, now that the -rowing season was actually to begin, abated something of his -intimacy,—but there was a general agreement as to the provisional -formation of the crews which was almost authoritative. Of the new men -who had come out, three had shown promise of skill as oarsmen. One of -them was Bursley, a quiet fellow who came in every day from a suburb a -dozen miles out, tall, muscular, and teachable. Louis Tracy was another, -and finally McDowell, who, though he had grown during the year, was -still undersized. On the first crew were to be tried—so the report -ran—Talbot, Bursley, Eaton, and Pitkin; on the second, Weld, Sumner, L. -Tracy, and McDowell; Wilmot, Hardie, and Redfield would thus be left -over for the pair-oar. - -This forecast proved correct except in one particular. To his surprise, -Roger got a trial the first day out, at two on the second. We may well -call it a trial, for such it surely was to all concerned. More -accurately described, it was a demonstration of incapacity. Roger’s -struggles with his oar stirred his rowing companions to fierce growls, -the coxswain to abuse, the loiterers on the float to gestures and grins -of malicious enjoyment. Poor Number Two couldn’t get his oar in right; -it twisted in his hand and pulled under, it wouldn’t come out when it -ought and as it ought. Delayed by the insidious clutch of the water, he -started his slide before he had freed his blade, and his knees rose and -blocked the backward movement of his handle. Though he put forth -extraordinary efforts to master the oar, the oar insisted on mastering -him. By good luck and violent slide rushing, he managed to avoid taking -Number Three in the back, but half the time he was holding or backing -water, and all the time he was preventing bow from keeping stroke. -Strive as he might with mind and body, his strength wrought nothing but -confusion. A half-hour of this fruitless wrenching and blundering was -all the crew could stand; the boat was headed in, and Roger was -unceremoniously dumped upon the float. - -Louis Tracy took his place—and kept it. After that, the disenchanted -but still determined Roger rowed bow on the pair-oar to Wilmot’s stroke, -and toiled over the unmanageable oar. It had a way of plunging under, -every few strokes, and pulling the side of the boat down; then it stuck -deep in the water, and Coolidge, the cox, would reprove, and the -offending bow would grip his handle still tighter and vow that this -particular fault shouldn’t occur again. But it did occur again, and -others as heinous. He couldn’t get his oar away after he had raised it -from the water; he rushed his slide instead of drawing it gradually back -so as not to check the motion of the boat; he could not put into -practice the apparently simple direction that the legs were to bear the -burden of the work. As a result his back suffered,—and the temper of -his mates, who poured out on his head reproach and sarcasm until the -ineffectualness of words was made apparent, when they relapsed into a -humorous pessimism that was more unflattering than abuse. - -The crew of the pair-oar was under another disadvantage: very little -coaching trickled through to them. Caffrey, the Westcott coach, gave his -attention chiefly to the first and incidentally to the second: the -pair-oar shifted for itself, or received one set of amateur directions -one day and another the next. As Roger thought of it, he and Wilmot were -in the position of a slow steamer trying to overtake one which was -several knots faster. Only a breakdown in the leader could prevent the -distance between them from growing hourly greater. - -“What’s the matter with Hardie?” asked Talbot, one day, as he walked -down with Wilmot to the boat-house. “He doesn’t seem to be gaining at -all.” - -“He’s just rotten,” answered Wilmot, despairingly. “A low-caste baboon -would do better!” - -“He may get it yet,” said Talbot. - -“He may!” echoed Wilmot, derisively; “oh, yes, he may! But I’ll bet you -a dollar to a cent that he won’t!” - -A fortnight passed: Bursley was making good in the first, and Mac had -been promoted to stroke on the second, but Roger’s improvement was -scarcely noticeable. He was beginning to fear that rowing was something -for which he was physically unfitted, as a fat man for pole vaulting. In -spite of his hardened muscles he became easily tired; his poor form wore -on his back and wrists and arms. Good rowing is easy rowing: Roger’s was -both bad and hard. Yet in spite of all discouragement he enjoyed the -practice. It was interesting to struggle for the hoped-for improvement, -even though the hope proved vain, to observe the other crews on the -water, to rest on the oar, a little out of the channel, and watch the -Varsity eight sweep magnificently by, with the nose of the coaching -launch close at the shell’s rudder, the oarsmen’s bodies bending in -beautiful unison, the water boiling back from the driving blades. Roger -never saw Deering’s crew without a thrill of that awe which the -subaltern feels when he stands in the presence of a famous general. It -represented power, skill, and determination concentrated; in it was -embodied a kind of majesty before which the schoolboy oars bowed with -instinctive reverence. Every crew on the river gazed at the Varsity in -rapt admiration, but the Varsity recognized the presence of no one but -itself. - -One afternoon in early May, Coolidge turned the bow of the pair-oar -upstream. For a mile Hardie’s oar played its old tricks, twisting in his -hand and pulling under, tipping the boat, spoiling the stroke, filling -with disgust and despair the hearts of the little crew. Near the Cottage -Farm bridge they stopped to watch a college eight pass. When they -started again, it occurred to Roger to see whether the rowlock would not -carry his oar, and permit him to concentrate his attention on his slide -and the recovery. To his surprise the oarlock did carry the oar. His -wrists were relieved of an exhausting strain; his blade plunged under no -longer. He found that a little easy toss of the oar at the end of the -slide would bring the blade squarely into the water. - -“What’s the matter with you, Bow?” called Coolidge, amazed. “You’re -rowing right!” - -[Illustration: AND WATCH THE VARSITY EIGHT SWEEP MAGNIFICENTLY BY.] - -“It’s about time,” growled Wilmot. - -Hardie, delighted, gave his whole mind to his movement, ceasing to steal -side-glances at his blade, and watching Wilmot’s back more closely. The -oar was beginning to catch spontaneously and hard, his slide to return -naturally with the motion of the boat. The pair-oar continued upstream -to the edge of Soldiers’ Field, then turned and retraced its course,—a -three-mile row,—but Roger felt no weariness. The relief from the -awkward strain which he had been putting upon himself made the work seem -like a rest. Just above the Harvard bridge they met the first boat, -which stopped to enable the captain to watch them, and Pete sang out -something which could not be heard. Later when they were all dressing in -the boat-house, Coolidge asked what this message was. - -“Oh, nothing of importance,” answered Talbot. “I only said that bow was -doing well.” - -“It seems to me of importance,” said Roger, whose face glowed with joy. -“That’s more than you’ve said so far this year.” - -“I’ve been thinking lately that I might never be able to say it at all,” -said Talbot. - -Meantime on the ball field things were going badly for Westcott’s. Dunn -reconsidered his resolution and went out to give the batters practice -and play general helper, but he couldn’t make Ben Tracy a good pitcher -or Stover a forceful captain. The school appreciated Dunn’s efforts and -thought better of him for them. Jason was studying, too, though with no -very startling classroom results. He had a tutor for an hour every -afternoon, and he often worked the whole evening in Hardie’s room. - -“I’m almost glad that I couldn’t play on that nine,” he said one evening -as he brought in his books; “they’re a terribly poor lot, and Stover -doesn’t get anything out of ’em. Think of Newbury beating them twelve to -two the other day!” - -“They may brace up near the second game,” suggested Roger. - -Dunn shook his head; “No, they won’t. It isn’t in ’em. Did you see -Smithy leading the cheering at the game? He was wild to beat!’ - -“If they can win the baseball and the crew now, they can get along -without the football.” - -“Oh, they won’t win the crew,” declared Dunn, “we’ll have ’em there.” - -“Lanning says they’re going to,” said Roger. “He coaches Newbury.” - -Dunn considered a moment. “I don’t see how Pitkin can be strong enough -to row a hard race. He’s bow on the first, isn’t he?” - -“Yes, and he rows well, too.” - -“You ought to be there. You could stand the pace.” - -Roger laughed. “I can’t even make the second. A little while ago Wilmot -wanted to kick me off the pair-oar.” - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER XXI - - THE SECOND CREW - - -NEVER did small boy yearn for the swimming-hole as Roger Hardie for the -next practice. He lay awake for an hour, going over the details of the -stroke as he hoped to use it. He had got control of the oar now, he was -sure; he didn’t swing out, he didn’t rush his slide, and he did pull -straight through—all positive virtues. The problem now was to catch -sharply, to pick up the movement with the legs as his trunk came up, -shoot the whole body back in one continuous and even strain, throwing -his entire weight against the stretcher—“jump right back from the -stretcher,” as Caffrey had once said. After that he must make a smart -recover, get the hands away promptly, and rest as his slide went -cautiously back, so as to be able to put all his strength and weight -into the next push against the water. It wasn’t the back that was to do -the rowing, nor the arms, but the whole body, and especially the legs. -All this as theory was splendidly clear, but how much could he put in -practice? What right had a clumsy fellow like him to expect to attain a -skill which other fellows had failed to gain with years of practice? - -He fell asleep with this question echoing in his brain, alternately -vowing that he would do it and convinced that he could not. The rising -bell woke him. He was unspeakably glad to be waked, for he was dreaming -that he had fallen back into his old bad ways, that the water sucked the -oar blade down after every stroke, that Coolidge and Wilmot had rebelled -and Pete had told him to try baseball, and put Redfield into his place. -He was inclined to take the dream as a bad omen until at luncheon Talbot -informed him that Weld was out with a sore finger, and that he would -have to row bow on the second that afternoon. He bethought himself then -that dreams are said to go by contraries, and took heart. - -Caffrey seated himself in Mike’s place when the crews went out—Mike was -cox of the second—and coached the first from the second boat, -occasionally transferring his exhortation to the crew that pulled him. -Hardie put his whole soul into his rowing and listened with all his -ears. Caffrey’s principal point of attack in the first boat was Pitkin -at bow, whom he accused of minor shortcomings and one very serious -fault—not rowing hard enough. “You’re late all the time, Bow. Your oar -must move as soon as it strikes the water, otherwise you back water. -You’re shirking, Bow! Don’t let the boat finish out your stroke. Keep -over the keel, Two; you’re rolling round too much. Don’t follow your -arms around, that makes you swing out. Together there—you’re awfully -sloppy!” - -And then he gave his attention for a time to the second. “Pull straight -through, Three. Keep your hands down and pull straight in. Quicker on -the recover, Bow. Don’t feather under. Take your oar out square and -feather as you drop your hands and shoot away. That’s better. Don’t bury -your oar so deep!” - -How different it was from knocking about with Wilmot in the pair-oar! -There was a feeling in the boat as if boat and oars and men worked in -unison, a swift, steady, exhilarating, forward glide that gave the -oarsmen a sense of power and skill. Every one worked intently with -Caffrey’s eye upon him. Every stroke was a contest against one’s own -treacherous faults, with the feel of the boat, the facility of the oar, -the criticism of the coach as test of success. By this test Roger was -satisfied that he had acquitted himself well. When, at the Cottage Farm -bridge, the coach called, “Let her run,” he rested on his oars, with -such a feeling of delight as he had not experienced even when Westcott’s -won the Newbury football game, back in November. To make clear what -happened during the rest of the row that day, and to set forth certain -events of the remainder of the week, we cannot do better than transcribe -Roger’s own letter to his mother, written on the following Sunday. -Nine-tenths of it was about rowing, in which Mrs. Hardie could only feel -the reflection of her son’s interest; and half of what she read she did -not understand. Perhaps my reader can do better. - -“DEAR MOTHER: - -“This has been a great week for me, and I’m going to tell you all about -it, though I can’t make you see it as I do. You know I got saved over -for the pair-oar when the Westcott squad was narrowed down to two crews -and a pair-oar, with coxes for each. This is the final narrowing down -except that the day before the race the pair-oar bunch gets the hook. I -had been slopping along in the pair-oar with Steve Wilmot, being more or -less rotten all the season, never at all decent, and often for long -stretches _absolutely_ ROTTEN, making both cox and Steve awfully sore, -and doing much worse than the worst school crew on the river, which is -saying a good deal. A few days ago I went out as usual and began badly, -but after a while I seemed to catch on all at once, and began to row -decently. We went a long way up river, and I kept on getting the habit -of pulling somewhat right. By the time I got home my rowing had improved -several thousand per cent. Pete saw me just as we came in (Pete is the -captain) and seemed awfully surprised that I was doing so well. - -“The next day Eliot Weld was out with a sore finger, and they put me -into his place in the second. Caffrey acted as cox, and I felt that if I -ever was going to have a chance to show what I could do, I had it then. -I did pretty well, I think, for Caffrey didn’t say much to me. The two -crews went along together for a while, then the coach sent the first -down and made us all stop and put on sweaters. Then he pulled out a -clipping about the adoption of a new, unorthodox stroke in England by -some of their colleges, and read it to us, making comments and -illustrating and explaining. He had found some one who had the same idea -he had and who believed in the same stroke that he tried to teach us. - -“We started down just as an inferior college eight came along, pulling a -regulation good hard stroke. Caffrey said: ‘We may as well race this -eight now they are here,’ and started us up. He is heavy, but he knows -more about managing a crew than all the other coxes together, and -everybody has confidence in him and doesn’t get rattled. He pushed us -along as fast as we could go to a bridge. We had a fraction of a length -start, but we gained until we went through the bridge a length ahead of -the other crew. Of course the eight was not racing, but it was pretty -good for us, to spurt a four-oar faster than an eight goes when rowing -at a good pace. This was not one of the Varsity eights, of course, but -an upper class eight, or a club eight. It would have been the height of -ridiculousness and especially of freshness to row against the freshmen -or the 2d or 3d Varsity. After a short stop to tell us what he wanted us -to do, we went all the way back to the boat-house without a break and at -a good pace. On the way down Caffrey talked to us, telling us how to -save strength or favor some muscle, and trying to get us to rest on the -recovery. - -“I was dead tired when we got to the boat-house, but I think I pulled -just as hard on the tired stretch as at any other time, excepting, of -course, the race. I think Caffrey raced us to give us confidence and to -get us into the habit of not getting rattled. And now for the most -important thing of all. _I was promoted to the second._ It was because I -pulled so hard and didn’t give in or weaken. Pete told me so while we -were dressing. Weld must take the pair-oar. I’m out of that. I may get -kicked back in a little while, but it will not be from lack of effort on -my part if I do. I would rather make the second crew than anything else -(except the first), as that means something; for our crews are in a -different class from any of our other teams, and 2d crew this year means -_1st crew next year_ (if I can possibly make it)! - -“That was on Tuesday. Since then I’ve been rowing on the second every -practice without being kicked, but I live in a continual state of terror -that some one will oust me from my place. Of course there’s only Wilmot -and Weld, and Wilmot’s too short and fat to be any good, while Weld is -not supposed to have the staying power, but I shan’t be free from worry -until the race starts (and that’s still nearly three weeks off). Even if -I can hold my place, I might get sick or hurt somehow, and so be thrown -out. - -“On Friday we went out in the worst weather we ever had. The rain blew -so fast that sheets of it would go into Mike’s megaphone, so that he -really spent more time in blowing out water than in talking, though this -was only when we were bucking the wind. We were all soaked about five -minutes after we left the boat-house. The waves were very bad, often -piling right over the boat. The rain came down so fast that it looked -like a mist, and you couldn’t see the shore from the middle of the -river. We didn’t stay out long, for there was no chance for good rowing. -When we came in, we found that the roof leaked. Little Mike was down on -the Newbury bunch because some one of them pinched his collar buttons -one day, so that he hadn’t anything to button his collar to. So he put -the clothes of the Newbury crews, who were still out, under the leak. - -“This is a terribly long letter and will cost something to send it to -Buenos Aires, but I wanted to tell you all about the crew business even -if it does bore you. It means a lot to me. If you went to Westcott’s, -you would understand. You can read between the lines that my health is -good and the studies are going all right. I got 82 in a history exam, on -Monday. Love to all. - - “Your affectionate son, - - “ROGER.” - -“What do you think of that?” asked Mrs. Hardie, four weeks later, after -her husband had patiently toiled through the letter. “Fancy their going -out in a tempest that soaked them in five minutes!” - -“I don’t care about that,” said Mr. Hardie. “It’s the race that troubles -me. It is a great strain on the heart, and the Hardies have a tendency -to weak hearts.” - -“Roger takes after me, and my family have good tough hearts,” returned -Mrs. Hardie, quickly, seeing, as she thought, a disposition on the part -of her husband to disapprove the boy’s rowing. She was touched that her -son should count on her loving interest in all that occupied his -thoughts; she objected strongly to making use of his confidences to -thwart the ambitions which he cherished most deeply, thus perhaps -banishing forever the frankness in which her mother heart delighted. - -“Besides,” she added, “I wrote him all about that last week. He can be -trusted to look out for himself.” - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER XXII - - A SHIFT IN THE BOAT - - -A FORTNIGHT later another letter packed full of the inevitable rowing -gush started on the long journey to Buenos Aires. - -“DEAR MOTHER: - -“I have so much to tell you about the crew this time and such a -wonderful story of luck that I must answer your questions right off at -the beginning or I shall surely forget to. You must let me know what -boat you’re coming on in June so that I can meet you at the dock. It -must seem funny to get two summers in the same year. If summer vacations -went with them, I should like that myself. It is all right about the -Comptons. I called there a long time ago. I did not want to go, but as -you wanted me to, I went, and had a very decent time after all. They -asked me to dinner a few days afterward. I had to accept because I -couldn’t very well get out of it. They gave me a swell feed, and there -were two girls there whom I had met at dancing school. Joe Compton is a -conceited little mutt. I will make my party call when the rowing is -over, as it will be after another week. I think I shall get -recommendations for 16 points, though the English isn’t certain yet. You -must not expect me to pass them all off. Nobody does that but the -sharks, and you know I am not a shark. Jason Dunn, the boy you ask about -who turned over a new leaf, keeps it turned all right, but as far as -studies are concerned, it is still blank. You don’t need to ask me to -help him, I couldn’t prevent it if I wanted to, as he studies in my room -almost every night. I don’t dislike him as I used to. I will order the -new suit, but I think the old one would do, and I could spend the money -more profitably on something else. The boys here don’t care much about -outside clothes, though they’re terribly keen about having fresh socks -and shirts every day, and they run wild on neckties. My laundry bill is -a whopper. Now for the real news. - -“I rowed on the second a whole week. Of course we did not get a great -deal of Caffrey, but Mike is pretty good, and Pete Talbot would tell me -after the practice some special fault he had seen in me, and then I -worked with all my might to straighten it out. I kept on getting -accustomed to use my legs and run the leg motion into the body and arms -(that doesn’t sound right, but it is the best I can do to explain it), -and I found the work a lot easier. You see if you row with a fixed seat, -the whole strain is on the back and arms, and the pull is with strength -alone. On the sliding seat, you row against your stretcher (that’s the -foot-board) and the legs furnish most of the power. The skill comes in -in blending everything together in one easy, natural motion, and getting -back to take your next stroke without checking the boat by the return of -your slide. I could feel all along that I was gaining, though I was slow -on the recover, and bungled my oar still. The fellows all seemed to -think I was going to make good in the second, and I was delighted, for -our second is about the best second on the river, and Mac sets a -_perfectly wonderful_ stroke. - -“One day near the end of the week Caffrey went out with us. He watched -me all the time, but he didn’t say anything to me in particular except -to get away on my slide hard at the start and slow down at the finish, -and to keep the top edge of my blade just below the surface of the -water, and not feather under. I knew all this before, but rowing -directions are awfully hard to apply. You have to watch the back of the -man in front of you for your stroke, and yet start at the very instant -he does. That means that you must feel when he is going to start and -start with him. That’s an example of what they expect of you in a boat; -other things are a good deal harder. - -“On Friday the first went to Suffolk to race the Suffolk School. They -have a little course out there of about a quarter of a mile, and they -practice for just this short distance with an awfully quick stroke. Of -course they always beat the crews that come to row them because the -visitors are not used to rowing that way. It is like putting a -half-miler to run a hundred yards with a sprinter. Well, our crew pulled -an awfully snappy race and came within a quarter of a length of winning. -They would have won, too, Rust said (the cox), if Pitkin had not got -rattled with the fast stroke and caught a crab and lost a good -half-length. He was all in, too, at the finish, while Pete and Jim Eaton -and Bursley felt as if they were just beginning to row. The Suffolk -fellows always row themselves out. Rust told me all about it. Of course -I did not go. The crew had to leave at 12 o’clock to get the train, and -they don’t let you cut recitations here to see races. They think they -are terribly generous to let the crew off. - -“Monday was our day on the river. We don’t row every day, because there -are not boats enough to go round, and only two coaches for eight -schools. Caffrey coached us for a while from a launch that belongs to -one of the boys, and then sent both crews up to the starting-place of -the regular mile course and told us to race down to the boat-house. The -first gave us a length start. Caffrey had said that we must think of our -form all the time and pull for all that we were worth every instant the -oar was in the water. It was the hardest work I ever did in my life, but -I gave all my attention to my form and my oar, and I didn’t notice how -tired I was till we got nearly to the Harvard bridge. For a while I -occasionally got a glimpse of the first behind us, and that kept me -encouraged, but about halfway down they passed us, and then I just had -to pull blind, and I did my best. I knew I could stand it if the rest -could. A little above the bridge, Mike called for a spurt, and Mac hit -it up three or four strokes faster. I saw Sumner’s head begin to wabble, -and I knew that he was getting to the end of his rope, and I began to -worry about what I should do if he gave out. But Jack is good stuff, and -he held out to the finish. By and by Mike cried out, ‘Ten strokes more! -Make ’em hard now!’ and I found I had plenty of strength left after all. -It is strange that though you seem to be pulling yourself out, there is -always something left over! - -“When Mike called ‘Let her run!’ I was so tickled to think that I had -kept my form all the way and rowed a good race that I sat up and -grinned. That grin was worth a lot to me as you will see. Pitkin slumped -down in the boat as soon as he stopped rowing. Caffrey had been -alongside of us all the time watching every man. Afterwards he had a -talk with Pete. I heard him say, ‘Pitkin’s face was all screwed up the -last quarter, he was rowing weak; the other fellow just went white, and -at the end he sat up and laughed.’ They saw me look up at that so they -moved away. I guessed they were speaking of me, and I felt good, I can -tell you, to think I had done well and proved my right to be in the -second boat instead of the pair-oar. - -“Pete asked me to wait for him (he’s an awfully slow dresser), so I hung -round on the float and watched some of the other boats. Caffrey had gone -out with Waterville High who were waiting for him. Their crew is pretty -good too. By and by Pete came along, and we went up together to the car. -And what do you think he said to me? _Pitkin and I were to change -places._ - -“I was so set up and so happy that I couldn’t study much, and I couldn’t -get to sleep for a long time. - -“Since then I have rowed bow on the first all the time, and there is -practically no chance at all of my being put back, as the practice is -over now. To-day the pair-oar bunch was fired. They knew it was their -last time, so Wilmot and Weld got Trask for cox and came out, all three -smoking cigarettes with a great air of superiority and rowing about as -they liked. They came down to where we were practicing racing starts -with the second, above the Harvard bridge, and watched us. They were in -very good spirits and jollied the two boats, sitting in attitudes of -ease in the pair-oar in the warm sun, and occasionally rowing. They -thought they were having a fine time, but any one of them would have -given almost anything to sneak into the boat—except Trask, perhaps, who -has a heart and isn’t allowed to row. There was a lot of talk as to -whether any one would dare to call Caffrey ‘Bill,’ as it was the last -day, but no one was fresh enough to. - -“The preliminary heats come on Wednesday. Our second stands a good -chance to get the championship, but the first, which is the most -important, of course, has to face much better crews. I hope we can get -into the finals, anyway. Some of the papers say Bainbridge is going to -win, and some say Newbury, which has a husky, big crew. - -“All we want is to beat Newbury. They’ve won the championship at -baseball already, though they have to play us one more game. If they -beat us in the crew, they get Smithy’s cup for a year; if we beat them, -we get it. Smithy has come out again. He was at the baseball game in all -his importance, and they say he’s trying to work the officials for the -races so that Newbury can get the best course. By the time I write my -next letter it will be all over. I’d cable you about it, only it costs -so much and you’ll have sailed by that time. I am writing this on Friday -to give it a good start. - - “Affectionately, - - “ROGER.” - -The next morning Roger slept late. He got up feeling listless and -dispirited; and though he assured himself as he dressed that he had -every reason to feel both happy and vigorous, the lethargy clung to him -so insistently that after breakfast he returned to his room and lay -down. In addition he was troubled by an occasional stitch in the left -side. Was it possible that he was going to fall ill, at this of all -times? Could it be that he too had developed a weakness of the heart -such as his father suffered from? The thought sent a shiver down his -spine. It couldn’t be so, it shouldn’t be so! He would not be cheated -out of his reward after all these weeks of hard uphill work. - -Towards noon Dunn came whistling in from school, where he had been -spending his Saturday morning in enforced diligence. He pounded on -Roger’s door, opened it, and dexterously flipped a letter across to the -figure on the sofa. - -“Buenos Aires,” he said curtly. Then, suddenly perceiving that Roger was -lying in an unusual state of quiet, or reading signs of discouragement -in his face, he added: “Hello! You aren’t sick, are you?” - -“I guess not,” answered Roger, smiling drearily; “I felt a little -tired.” - -“You’ve been overdoing, that’s all, I guess. Talbot works you too hard. -You ought to cut practice for a day or two.” - -“Practice is over, anyway,” responded Roger. - -“You want to take it easy until the race, then, and not think about it,” -said Dunn. “We can’t afford to have you overtrained.” - -Dunn departed and Roger took up his letter. He read with keen interest -until he came to the last page, when a look of dismay swept over his -face. “Your father is greatly concerned about your rowing,” ran the -fatal passage. “We know an English gentleman here who rowed on the -Cambridge crew, and he says that oarsmen not infrequently get some form -of heart disease from the great strain put upon the heart in racing. -Your father wanted to write immediately and forbid your rowing, but I -told him that if you could play football without harm, you ought to be -able to row a mile, and prevailed on him to leave the matter in your -hands. Before you take part in any race you must see a good physician, -Dr. Long, for example, and make sure that your heart is sound. You can’t -afford to purchase the petty glory of rowing in a schoolboy race at the -price of ill-health for the rest of your life.” - -Roger dropped the letter from his hands and groaned aloud. “He won’t -pass me, I’m sure. It’s all up with me if I go to a doctor. Why couldn’t -the confounded letter have got lost on the way!” - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII - - THE WEAKENED HEART - - -THE rest of the day Roger spent in moping, fuming, and intermittent -attempts to divert himself by reading or work. Feeling wholly without -appetite, he did not go down to luncheon when the bell rang. As a -consequence Mr. Adams came up, inquired sympathetically about his -condition, and proposed to telephone for a physician. But a physician -was, at that moment, the last person that Roger desired to see; he could -not reconcile himself to the thought of submitting his dearly cherished -hopes to the decision of some bigoted foe of rowing who would condemn -him on principle and flatter himself that he had saved another body from -destruction. He had passed the Athletic Association doctor at the -beginning of the season; why was not that enough to satisfy his mother’s -requirement? - -“I don’t think it’s necessary,” he said, avoiding Mr. Adams’s eye. “I’m -just a little off my feed. I shall be all right by to-night.” - -“It’s always better to attend to these things at the outset,” rejoined -the teacher. “The doctor wouldn’t hurt you.” - -“I don’t want him!” persisted Roger, fretfully. “He’d just stir me up.” - -Mr. Adams observed him with curiosity. Here was a childish -unreasonableness which he had never before seen in Roger Hardie. “I’ll -wait till to-night, then. Isn’t there something Mrs. Adams or I could do -to make you more comfortable? Shouldn’t you like something to read, or -some one to read to you?” - -Roger thanked him, but thought he should take a little nap and then -perhaps go for a walk. So Mr. Adams was induced to leave, and Roger lay -back on his couch, with eyes staring wide open and thoughts pounding -hard. He had staved off the doctor for a time at least. - -As he lay there assuring himself that nothing could be the matter with -his heart and that he should certainly be quite well by night, reviling -himself for being such a fool as to fall ill on the eve of a race and -vowing that he would row anyway, Dunn came softly in on new rubber-soled -shoes. He was going to Cambridge to see the Harvard-Princeton game, but -before he went he wanted to express his sympathy and offer consolation. -Dunn did not use these trite expressions nor did he talk like a phrase -book of etiquette, but he meant well and Roger understood him. The -consolation took the form of a lurid, six weeks’ novel which Dunn -commended as “pretty fair.” An hour with this pretty fair tale of -Jason’s lending was about all Roger could stand; he threw it down gladly -when Mike appeared to invite him to go out and watch the game between -the Weary-Willies and the Easy-Resters which Mike was to umpire. - -He fared forth, therefore, with Mike, and established himself at the -shady end of the players’ bench, prepared to be quietly amused. Dickie -Sumner thrust a sheet of paper and a pencil into his hand and bade him -keep score. It was a great game and most amusing, but totally devoid of -quiet. The Easy-Resters rested not at all, but tore up and down the foul -lines, jeering at the battery of their opponents and abusing the umpire. -The Weary-Willies answered unweariedly jeer for jeer. When, in the -middle of the fifth inning, the E-R’s assaulted Mike, and, sweeping him -off the field, dragged Roger out to take his place, the new umpire could -not for the life of him determine whether the score stood seven to six -in favor of the E-R’s or six to five for the W-W’s. So he left Mike to -continue the score after his own fashion, and devoted himself to -securing order on the diamond and enforcing his decisions by threats of -injury from the baseball bat with which he had armed himself. - -The game was over, and the players were arguing noisily about the -score—Mike had made the E-R’s pay dearly for the violence offered to -the sacred person of the umpire—before Roger bethought himself of his -illness. He was apprised of it now by a sensation of faintness, and a -startling dizziness that fell upon him suddenly and for the moment -frightened him with the fear that he was the victim of one of the -“spells” to which, as he vaguely knew, people with weak hearts are -subject. But the fear was overborne by a fierce determination that -surged up in a defiant flood, insisting that the undesired was the -untrue. It was not his heart! His heart was as strong as any one’s, -whatever his father might fancy. He would not be ill, he would row! He -set his teeth and clenched his fists and steered his way straight for -the house. There he threw himself into a chair in the common room, and -taking up a paper, turned to the sports page, on which a reporter had -given his opinion as to the probable outcome of the schoolboy races. -Newbury was picked for first place, with a good fighting chance for -Bainbridge Latin,—both coached by Lanning. Westcott’s was the best of -the Caffrey crews, but did not look like a winner; the Back Bay boys -rowed in good form, but they lacked the power of the big men in the -other boats. While form was unquestionably an important element in the -success of a crew, mere style could never take the place of endurance -and strength. - -So much Roger at last comprehended after several readings and with much -effort to control his trembling hands and wavering eyes. He put down the -paper in disgust, and resting his heavy head on his hand, mingled in a -dizzy confusion despairing self-reproach and genuine prayers for help. - -The dizziness had worn off, but the weakness still remained, and the -consciousness of this weakness undermined the props of determination as -fast as they were set up. The boys were gathering for dinner; they threw -curious and not unsympathetic glances at the disconsolate figure in the -lounging chair, and talked in tones uncommonly subdued of the effect -Hardie’s illness would have on the chances of the crew. Presently Felton -came in from the long corridor, surveyed the room, and catching sight of -Hardie in the chair slapped him roughly on the shoulder. - -Roger started and shot a menacing look at the offender. “What’s the -matter with you?” - -“What’s the matter with _you_?” retorted Felton. “Pete wants you at the -telephone.” - -Roger dragged himself to the telephone. “Is that you, Roger?” sounded -Talbot’s clear voice. - -“Yes.” - -“How are you? They told me this afternoon that you were under the -weather. You aren’t going to be sick, are you?” - -“No, it’s all right. I’m better to-night.” - -“That’s good. Be careful what you eat, and get to bed early. We can’t -afford to lose you. They assigned places this afternoon for the trials. -We got the outside.” - -“That’s bad, isn’t it?” - -“I’m afraid so. There won’t be any current to help us, and a head wind -would set us back a lot. They’re counting on our weakening at the -finish. They don’t know us. I’m not afraid of any weakening in the first -boat now that Pitkin is out.” - -Roger groaned audibly. “What’s that?” asked Talbot. - -“Where’s Newbury?” substituted Roger. - -“Inside, next to the wall. Smithy got that arranged all right.” - -“How does he come in?” - -“How does he come into anything? Pulls wires and works his friends in -the B.A.A. He’ll be on the referee’s launch in some official capacity, -I’ll bet my head. I’m willing to let Newbury beat us in the trials, but -we must make second place so as to get into the finals. I should like to -save our strength as much as possible for the real thing. We ought to -find Brookfield High and Boston Latin pretty easy; they are the others -in our heat.” - -“That’s right; our second could put it over either of them.” - -“Well, take good care of yourself. Remember about eating and getting to -bed. Good-by.” - -Roger hung up the receiver and returned to the common room. The talk -with Pete had put new life into him. Excited by the news and the -prospect, he thought of his illness only as something which he had -really left behind him, and which might be wholly disregarded. His -mother’s instruction as to the examination of his heart he would not -consider just now. There must be some way out of the dilemma. He must -row, whatever happened; on that he was determined. - -The dining-room doors opened just as he came down the corridor, and -Roger went in with the first rush. Acting on the assumption that he was -well, and hungry from a day’s fasting, he fell to greedily. Soup, roast, -vegetables, pudding, fruit—he took them all, like any of the -perpetually hollow boys who called the food at Adams’s “bum,” yet -devoured it like cormorants. Mr. Adams was not at dinner; if he had been -there he must have marked with uneasiness the feverish glitter in -Roger’s eye and the abnormal convalescent’s appetite. - -After dinner the company sallied forth to the playground, the younger -lads to indulge in a screaming game of scrub, the older ones to sit -round on the grass and watch Dunn trying to teach Cable to hold a -pitched ball. Dunn had declared that Cable should learn, and Cable had -declared that he couldn’t. In the contest Cable very clearly proved his -case—to Dunn’s disgust and the infinite amusement of the onlookers. The -sport terminated at half-past seven, when Jason, spying his tutor coming -across from the street, drove a particularly vicious in-curve at the -unfortunate Cable, who dodged the missile by an awkward sprawl, and -trudged submissively after it to the distant elm trees. - -Roger followed Dunn into the house. For the last fifteen minutes a -sensation of approaching calamity had been growing upon him. The proud -spirit of defiance with which he had declared himself well had forsaken -him. His brain reeled under a dull, oppressive weight. The dinner which -he had so recklessly devoured seemed like a mass of hardening cement in -his stomach; his lips trembled, perspiration broke out on his forehead. -Utterly wretched, he dragged himself upstairs to his room and sank into -a chair by the open window. - -“And you thought you could row!” he groaned. “You poor fool!” - -And then he was sick, violently sick, with convulsions that shook his -whole frame, sending great throbs of pain crashing through his brain. He -dropped his clothes in a pile on the floor and crept into bed, where he -lay with cheek buried in the pillow, listening horrified to his own -heart beating “tub-up! tub-up! tub-up!” in his ear. There was no longer -any doubt of his condition. “It’s my heart!” he muttered wildly to -himself. “My heart has gone back on me. They knew more about it than I -did. I’m not fit to row!” - -The head throbs subsided after a time, and Roger began to think. He -recalled certain occasions in his childhood when he had suffered from -sick headaches. His mother used to sit beside him then, holding his -hand, and, with her quiet, soothing presence, helping him to bear the -pain. He missed her now, terribly. He felt, too, that he had forfeited -his right to her ministrations; he had been disloyal to her, in intent -at least, when she had been steadfastly loyal to him. The very command -against which he had rebelled was proof of her sympathy, for it was the -result of her effort to save his rowing when his father would have -forbidden it out of hand. “She did her best for me,” he thought in keen -self-reproach, “and she trusted me, and I was going back on her. It’s -all up with the rowing now; I shall never sit in a boat again, but I’ll -have the examination if I ever get out of this, just to prove that I’m -what she thinks I am.” - -This resolution brought him a certain composure. He ceased to mourn, and -presently fell asleep. The sun was already slanting down through his -open window when he awoke. Mr. Adams stood at the bedside. - -“How do you feel this morning?” asked the master. “If sleep can cure -you, you ought to be well. You’ve slept over breakfast in spite of all -the noise.” - -“I’m better,” answered Roger, who had profited by the interval to get -his bearings. “My head doesn’t ache any more, but I feel rather weak and -hollow.” - -“We’ll send you up something to eat. What shall it be?” - -“I think I’d better see a doctor before I eat anything,” replied the -boy, humbly. His attitude had changed over night. - -Mr. Adams nodded approval to this sentiment. “That’s right. You ought to -have seen one yesterday. I’ll telephone for Dr. Brayton. In the meantime -I’ll have them send up a little toast. You can nibble on that if you -feel faint.” - -The toast came, and Roger nibbled on it as long as it lasted. He felt -better, far better. The heart spell was evidently passing. Dunn came in -and sat on the bed for half an hour, telling a long tale of his tragedy -of hard work and not forgetting at its close to exhort the patient to -keep up his courage and get well before Wednesday. The exhortation drew -a strained smile to Roger’s face, such a smile as we assume to shield -from intruding eyes the knowledge of a hurt—and the hurt smarted long -after the complacent Jason had left the room. - -Mike was the next visitor. He sat down with sober face in a chair -fronting the bed, and said nothing after his “Hello, Roger!” for some -time, though he stole occasional shy glances at his sad-eyed friend. - -“Are you much sick?” he asked at length. - -“I don’t know,” answered Roger. “The doctor will tell me when he comes.” - -“Won’t it be terrible if you can’t row?” sighed the boy, his big eyes -soft with pity. - -Roger squirmed. “It’ll be hard, of course, but if I can’t, I can’t.” He -tried to speak lightly, but the attempt was a failure. - -There was silence again for a time. Mike looked obstinately down at the -cap which he was smoothing on his knee. Roger was thinking of his -condition and of the sacrifice which he was making. He felt so much -better this morning that had it not been for the fatal heart weakness, -he could have fancied himself within a few hours of complete recovery. -He should be like Trask, apparently perfectly well, but barred from -everything worth while—no more rowing, no more football, no more long -swims, or hard all-day tramps over the mountain peaks with the joy of -covering, between breakfast and supper, the score of steep miles which -the average tramper was happy to bring within the limits of two whole -days! Henceforth he must nurse himself and avoid over-exertion and be -content with golf or tennis, playing with girls, perhaps, or kids! What -a dreary, disgusting prospect! - -“Pitkin shirks,” offered Mike, who had been pursuing his own train of -thought. - -Roger stared for an instant without comprehension. Then, as he perceived -that practical Mike was worrying over the change in the first boat, he -answered hopefully, “He won’t shirk in the race; he’ll put in all he -has.” - -“But he hasn’t the power.” - -Before Roger could meet this objection, a knock was heard at the door. -As Mr. Adams came in with the doctor, Mike slipped away unnoticed. Dr. -Brayton sat down by the bedside, and in a very friendly, comrade-like -way asked the boy questions. Then he felt the patient’s pulse, looked at -his tongue, put the stethoscope to his chest, took his temperature. -Afterwards he drew out a little block in a neat leather case and wrote -on the top leaf certain mysterious words. - -“What’s the matter?” asked Roger, with an anxious quaver in his voice. - -“Over-eating and worry,” answered the doctor, laconically. - -“Is it bad?” - -The doctor smiled. “We shouldn’t call it a very serious case.” - -“I mean my heart,” faltered Roger. - -“Your heart! Have you had trouble with your heart?” - -“No-o, but my father has a bad heart, and I could hear mine beat awfully -hard last night. I was afraid something was the matter with it.” - -The doctor took up his instrument and again listened long and carefully. -Roger could feel his breath come and go with hurried, uneven pace as the -examination drew out. He was excited, anxious, shrinking from the truth -yet eager to know the worst. It seemed ten minutes before the doctor -folded up his stethoscope and returned it to his bag. - -“What’s wrong with it?” demanded the boy, faintly, after waiting for -some seconds for the doctor to speak. - -“Nothing. It’s perfectly normal.” - -Roger gasped. “And it isn’t weak?” - -“It’s as strong as a prize fighter’s. Your trouble is with the -digestion.” - -“Shall I be laid up long?” - -“Not if you obey directions. You’ll have to be careful for a day or -two.” - -A wonderful change swept over the patient’s face. The dismal air of -resignation to an evil fate fell from him like a mask. His eyes flashed -bright with hope and eagerness. He popped into a sitting posture with a -quickness of recovery that would have delighted Caffrey’s heart, and -stretched out both hands toward the physician. - -“Can I row on Wednesday? Oh, doctor, please say I can!” - -Dr. Brayton laughed aloud. “Not if you act in that way. Lie down and -keep quiet, and do what you’re told.” - -“I’ll do anything, starve or eat slops or lie here like a log till -Wednesday,” declared Roger, as he fell back again in obedience to -orders, “but you’ve got to make me well enough to row. You’ll do it, -won’t you?” - -“We’ll see. Stay quietly in bed to-day, take only the nourishment which -I have ordered, and don’t get up to-morrow until I come. You must get -your strength back before you can think of rowing.” - -For the rest of the day Roger lay in uneasy happiness, taking with -Fletcher-like deliberateness the sloppy messes that were brought to him, -receiving visitors as they drifted in after church, and kicking his legs -like a lusty infant. The burden of his despair had suddenly lifted as a -cloud cap lifts from a mountain peak and discloses miles of glorious, -sunny landscape that had seemed but a little before as hopelessly buried -in gloom as the peak itself. At times he could hardly restrain himself -from leaping forth from bed and dancing out his joy. In the afternoon, -when the fellows went off for walks, he took a nap; he awoke refreshed -and impatient to be moving. He obeyed his orders, however, helped out by -a book and the presence of various friendly souls who had time on their -hands and could talk indefinitely of nothing. At night he slept again -for long, unbroken hours. - -In the morning the doctor came, looked him over, ordered a beefsteak for -his breakfast, and told him to go back to school. Roger ate the -beefsteak with the satisfaction of a hungry tramp who has chanced upon a -square meal after an experience of two days with dogs and crusts; but -before he left for school he slipped into the gymnasium and tried a -dozen strokes on the rowing machine. - -It was all right; he was a little weak, but he could pull his old -stroke. He had two days in which to recover his strength. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV - - THE TRIALS - - -PRESIDENT JOHN, glorious in apparel and self-importance, strutted along -the boat-house float, blowing cigarette smoke into the faces of waiting -oarsmen, playing the patronizing oracle to the newspaper men, and -juggling rowing terms for the benefit of everybody within earshot. What -strings the genius of the Triangular League had pulled with the Athletic -Association to obtain his appointment as race official we may not -inquire; of the fact there was no question. A certain Mr. Henderson -shared with him the responsibility of being judge at the finish, but the -glory of office President John took to himself. In his eyes Henderson -was but the zero which added to one makes ten. He himself was both the -one and the ten. - -On a heap of sweaters in a corner of the open room of the boat-house lay -stretched the Westcott crews, awaiting, under pretence of calmness, the -moment for carrying out their boats. They could not start until the -arrival of the launch which was to bear the officials. Meantime various -friends who had smuggled themselves into the close quarters clustered -about to stay up their champions and divert their minds from the race. - -“Ben has got his quinquereme out,” said Mike, coming in from a visit to -the float. “They’re rowing round here challenging everybody to race.” - -“What’s the quinquereme?” asked Roger, raising himself on his elbow. - -“It’s an old eight-oared ship’s cutter from some Spanish war vessel, -that Ben discovered down by the East Cambridge bridge,” explained Pete. -“He’s filled it full of fellows who want to see the races.” - -“Why does he call it a quinquereme?” - -“Because he likes the name, of course,” declared Eaton, laughing. “He -doesn’t care what it means. Fluffy and his gang have picked up a big -dory thing they call a bireme. They’re going to row the quinquereme.” - -“That’s all over,” said Mike. “The quinquereme beat out the bireme and -the pair-oar. Tracy says he’s going to challenge the second next.” - -“Let’s go out and see them,” proposed Roger. He raised himself into a -sitting position as if to carry out his suggestion, but Talbot pulled -him back. - -“No, you don’t,” ordered the captain. “You aren’t here to amuse -yourself!” - -Just then the cry arose that the launch was coming, and the -non-combatants crowded to the door. Through one of the wide arches of -the bridge, its parapet topped for a hundred yards by a dense row of -heads, the slender _Veritas_ was speeding down upon the boat-house. - -“Second crew out!” commanded Talbot. McDowell and his men fetched their -oars from the corner and laid them side by side at the edge of the -float; then they brought out their boat, and, dropping it into the -water, fitted their oars into the locks and took their places. When toe -straps were well adjusted and the slides fully tested, friendly hands -laid hold of the blades of the port oars at Mac’s signal, and shoved the -boat forth. - -“Attention!” called Mike. “Ready!—Row!” - -The four oars took the water with a hard clean catch. Backward swung the -blue, white-lettered jerseys in perfect unison; forward they came again, -their slides returning easily with the motion of the boat, and again the -blades snatched at the water and drove it back in one steady, prolonged -push. The lads in the untippable old quinquereme mounted their benches -and yelled the school cheers in a fierce burst of loyalty. A knot of old -Westcottites on the bank echoed the cheer. - -“What a stroke that kid sets!” said Talbot. “If he were only six inches -taller and twenty pounds heavier—” - -“I shouldn’t be on the first crew,” offered Roger, as Pete hesitated. - -“Some of us wouldn’t, that’s a sure thing,” returned Talbot. “We’ll -watch the launch off, and then go back and lie down.” - -The _Veritas_ took on board the officials and the newspaper men, and -headed up river after the crews. President John had elected to go with -the launch. He posted himself beside the steersman in the bow, standing -proudly erect to be seen and admired of all men, and cast a long glance -backward at the common herd that thronged the float. - -“Doesn’t he make you sick?” growled Talbot, as they watched the -_Veritas_ plough her way upstream. “I suppose Newbury isn’t responsible -for him, but I’d give my allowance for all summer to be sure of getting -ahead of him. I’d row till I dropped dead rather than let that goat see -us beaten.” - -“He won’t see our second beaten, to-day,” said Eaton. “We’ve got the -best thing in seconds on the river.” - -“But he’ll see _us_ beaten,” returned the captain. “I hate to give him -so much rope, but second place is good enough for us to-day. On Friday -we’ll have a real try at ’em.” - -They lay down again in their old corner, telling Rust to call them out -when there was anything to see. - -“This is the worst part of it,” said Pete. “There’s nothing so hard as -waiting. How goes it, Roger?” - -Roger shook his head with a melancholy little smile that barely lifted -the corners of his tight-closed lips. Pete threw at him an uneasy look. - -“You don’t feel sick again, do you?” he asked quickly. - -This time Roger’s lips parted to a full grin, “No,” he answered with -emphasis. “I’m nervous, that’s all. I want to be doing something.” - -“You’ll feel all right as soon as we get into the boat,” rejoined -Talbot, relieved. “What we want is some one to jolly us up a little.” - -Just at that moment, as if in response to the captain’s wish, a young -man, displaying under a panama hat a face wreathed with smiles, appeared -at the door and trotted towards the Westcott corner. - -“It’s Happy Hutchins!” cried Pete. “Hello, Hap! Why didn’t you come -before, you old fraud?” - -Hutchins was shaking hands violently all round, calling every one by -name as if he knew the whole crew as well as he knew Pete and Eaton. - -“I couldn’t get here. I was afraid they weren’t going to let me off at -all. If they hadn’t, I’d have cut the job entirely. How I’d like to be -in you fellows’ shoes! The Newbury cox will be the only one on their -boat to see Westcott’s to-day. Gee, but I wish I was pulling an oar!” - -Roger glanced with curiosity at Pete’s face to see what effect this -boundless confidence had upon him. Pete was grinning broadly, but only -with pleasure in Happy’s society. He didn’t need the stimulus of -artificial encouragement. - -“What’s the job, Hap?” asked Eaton. - -“Arlington Trust. Fill ink-wells and run errands. Three dollars a week. -It nearly pays for my lunches.” - -“Don’t get discouraged,” urged Pete. “Perhaps you’ll be made a -vice-president next year.” - -“I’ll probably get a raise next year that’ll pay my car fares,” answered -Hutchins, calmly. “Where’s old Withers? Do you suppose he’ll remember -me?” - -“He’ll never forget the man that stepped through the bottom of the -pair-oar!” declared Pete. “He’s sore about it yet.” - -That was the first link in a chain of reminiscences that sent the -minutes flying. Hutchins had not succeeded in getting into college in -spite of an extra year, and two long summers of arduous slaving; but he -was the jolliest, best-hearted chap that Westcott’s had ever failed to -make a scholar of, and he couldn’t open his mouth without being -entertaining. Eaton had just reminded him of his historic attempt to -prove to the coach by argument that he wasn’t feathering under, when two -harsh toots of a steam whistle cut his explanations short and sobered -all faces. - -“Trowbridge!” exclaimed Eaton and Pete, in unison. - -“What’s ours?” asked Hutchins, quietly. - -“Three. If Trowbridge is ahead, we’re close behind, you can depend on -that,” said Talbot. - -“Let’s go out,” proposed Roger. - -“Not yet. They’re some distance up, still.” - -For two minutes they waited in silence, listening. Then the whistle -screeched once more, this time distinctly nearer. - -“One! Two!” counted Hutchins. “Trowbridge! Come on out!” - -The captain made no objection, and the crowd broke for the float. They -were none too soon. The launch was breasting the water a length out from -the arch in midstream. Alongside, but still under the bridge, was Mac’s -crew, an indistinct streak in the shadow. From the second arch inshore, -the bow of the Trowbridge boat was just emerging. Ten seconds later, -both boats were clear of the bridge, sweeping towards the finish line. -No other crew was in sight. - -“Pull there, Westcott’s!” yelled Hutchins, as if he could reach the -distant crew with his voice. “Hit it up, stroke!” - -Talbot said nothing, but his eyes were glued on the approaching boats, -now hardly twenty strokes from the finish line. His heart was heavy with -disappointment. He had expected much from this second crew. When doubts -as to his own assailed him, his faith in Mac’s crew had never wavered. -He had expected them to win their trial heat with ease, to make up in a -measure for the chagrin the school would feel if the first only gained -second place. - -“Gee! see ’em hit up the stroke!” cried Hutchins, suddenly gripping -Pete’s arm and dancing in the water that flooded the float. “Look at ’em -gain! That’s the way, Westcott’s! They can’t meet it! Look at their -heads roll round! They’re all in. You’ve got ’em, Westcott’s. Hold ’em! -Hold ’em!” - -At this point Hutchins broke off his wild ejaculations to splash across -to a cluster of old Westcottites standing near the boat-house and lead a -cheer. While the cheer rang out, Mike was counting the last half-dozen -strokes, and urging his men to row them hard. His boat cut the finish -line half a length ahead of Trowbridge, whose exhausted oarsmen fell -forward upon their oars as the coxswain bade them cease rowing. The -spurt had caught them with no surplus of strength to draw upon. - -After this there was no need of artificial diversion in the boat-house. -The fellows on the second vowed that they had lots of strength left, -that they were holding back so as to keep Trowbridge from pushing too -hard, and that they could have kept the lead from the beginning if they -had wanted to—all of which was believed because it was pleasant to -believe. The exchange of questions and answers, explanations and -congratulations absorbed every one’s attention until the toots of the -launch again called the crowd forth to see the finish of the last heat -of the seconds. - -And now the moment was come which Talbot’s crew had been both longing -for and dreading. As he helped carry the boat out, Roger was conscious -of a shrinking—a nervous, unsettling fear that his strength and skill -might not be equal to the test before him. He glanced at Pete to see if -he too felt the depressing influence, but the captain’s face showed only -a deeper line of determination about the mouth, and his voice as he gave -the necessary orders sounded calm and reassuring. The unnatural tension -was at its height as Roger sat with arms outstretched for the catch, -waiting for the coxswain’s word. It clung to him still during the first -strokes, as the boat got under way from the float. Then gradually the -familiar movement absorbed his attention, and the grip on his heart -loosened. The harmony of the swaying bodies, the monotonous creak of the -slides on their rollers, the wash of the water against the sides, the -“feel” of the boat beneath him as it drove steadily forward—all -contributed to wake in him the old confidence and exhilaration. - -As the crew passed under the bridge on their way to the starting line, -the cheers from admirers above descended in a loud blare, but by this -time he was beyond the need of such encouragement. He knew that the boat -was going well, he exulted in the conviction that he had his form and -his strength, and could row that day as well as any other. - -The crews got off well. The dozen quick starting strokes put the nose of -the Westcott boat six feet ahead of Newbury. Brookfield High and Boston -Latin were still farther behind. Roger was a little dilatory in obeying -the starting signal, and as a result, in his efforts to follow his -leader, he rowed his first strokes too much with his arms; but by the -time Pete lengthened out, he was in form again, his legs thrusting -strongly against the stretcher, his blade catching the water sharply and -hard, his pull straight through to the end of the long stroke. He bore -in mind the last warning he had received from the coach, and gave -particular attention to getting his hands away quickly, keeping in the -middle of the boat and avoiding the abrupt return technically known as -“rushing the slide.” He saw nothing but the back of the man in front of -him, heard nothing but the exhortations of the coxswain, until four -blasts of the whistle close at hand assured him that the Westcott boat -was leading. Soon after this he began to feel tired, and wondered -vaguely if he were not pulling too hard, but with the second toot of the -whistle this sense of weariness yielded somewhat, and a glimpse caught -over Eaton’s shoulder of Brookfield High, lengths behind, gave him -courage. - -“Halfway!” called Rust. “Keep it up now, Newbury’s gaining. Watch your -form, Bow!” - -From the launch came the signal that Westcott had lost the lead to -Newbury. Roger wondered if he were really rowing badly or was just being -warned to prevent a slump. He wondered also whether Talbot would spurt -or let Newbury go ahead. And while he wondered, toiling at his oar and -watching his slide, he felt the stroke quicken and rallied to meet it. - -And then a new sound reached his ears, the sound of school cheers from -the bridge. Again the launch whistled four times. They were ahead again! -The cheers were clearer now and close at hand. Roger’s breath was coming -hard with every stroke; he got no rest on the returning slide; his legs -were weakening, he was tired all over, but not too tired to row; and he -drove his protesting muscles as if they were things separate from -himself, and he a cruel master lashing them on. - -As they passed into the shadow of the bridge, the launch sent forth a -single long shriek. The sound filled the Westcott bow oar with furious -resentment. Was Pete going to let Newbury slip in ahead now, after -holding them the whole distance? Why didn’t he spurt? Why didn’t he give -his crew a chance to win its proper place? The spirit of battle that -surged through Roger’s heart blotted out the consciousness of weariness -and feebleness; he yearned for the opportunity to do something more than -pull with all his might at the stroke set him. - -But Pete did not respond to the ardent wish of the bow oar. The race was -approaching its end. The launch gave its final signal—one hateful -blast. - -“Ten strokes more!” yelled Rust. “Make it good now. Hard! Hard!” - -Then Talbot, either to test his crew or to show what he could do if he -tried, suddenly “hit her up.” Bow oar met the challenge with a burst of -furious energy. He was mad all through. He felt like tearing his -outrigger from the side, like driving his stretcher into Eaton’s back. -Those ten strokes were the hardest Roger had ever rowed. The boat leaped -forward. The lead of three-quarters of a length which Newbury had, grew -less with every push of the Westcott oars. - -“Let her run!” called Rust, and the crew rested. Newbury had won, by a -quarter of a length. Roger held himself upright, though breathing -heavily. His limbs were in a quiver, his heart was sore against Pete’s -cautious policy. They had lost a race that might have been won! -Brookfield was splashing along five lengths away, trying hard to avoid -the ignominy of being last. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER XXV - - THE FINAL STRUGGLE - - -PRESIDENT JOHN hurried from the launch to the Newbury crew, who were -stiffly disembarking at the side of the float. - -“A splendid race!” he cried exultantly, as he grasped the hand of the -victorious captain; “a splendid race! That’s the way to do the -thing,—get the lead in the first half of the course and hold it. And -you had plenty of strength in reserve, too, didn’t you?” - -Downs glanced a little doubtfully at his men. “I think so.” - -“You’ll do it easier next time,” asserted the distinguished man. “A -defeat like this breaks the spirit of a crew. What you want now is a -good rest. I’ll see if I can’t get you a holiday for to-morrow.” - -“That would be great! Do you think you can?” - -President John’s knowing smile suggested mysterious reaches of influence -which he was much too modest to mention. “I guess it can be arranged. We -can’t afford to take any risks. The first name on that cup has got to be -Newbury Latin.” - -Westcott’s paddled in to the float, turning their boat over directly to -Bainbridge Latin. Roger stripped for the shower in silence with lowering -face. - -“How do you feel now it’s over?” asked Pete, after staring for some -seconds at his sullen companion. “All in?” - -“No! Mad and disgusted!” - -“You’ve nothing to be disgusted about,” said Eaton. “Rust says you -pulled like a fiend the whole way. I’m the one to be disgusted. I didn’t -row myself out at all.” - -“That’s just it! If Pete had put up the stroke two minutes earlier, we’d -have left ’em behind half a length! Now they’ll crow and the newspapers -will call us a sandy but outclassed crew, and half the fellows will -believe it.” - -“Cut out the growling!” commanded the captain. “What I did was right, -and I’d do it again. I didn’t know how you fellows were standing it, and -there was no use in killing ourselves, with the finals on for day after -to-morrow. But I’ll give you one sure pointer: you’ll have all the -spurting you want on Friday.” - -“Bring on your spurt!” snapped the bow oar. “We’ll meet you.” - -Roger felt calmer after his shower—calm enough to regret his rash -boast. Pete had the pluck inherent in good blood, the indomitable spirit -that faces odds undaunted, and only fails when brain and body can no -longer serve it,—and Pete was not one to forget. It was a foolish thing -to say, especially for an inexperienced oar who had rowed but one race -in his life, but as the boast could not now be retracted, the only -course for Roger to pursue was to carry it out. This he secretly -resolved to do if his good-for-nothing legs didn’t go back on him. - -The papers next morning were scanned with eagerness. They generally -considered that first place in the finals would lie between Bainbridge -Latin, which had run away from its rivals in the second heat, and -Newbury, with Westcott’s a good third. All agreed that Westcott’s was -likely to win the race for seconds. - -“It’s a wonder they concede that much,” said Pete, sarcastically. “They -always act surprised if we win anything.” - -Dickie Sumner, made audacious by the knowledge that he was the bearer of -important news, came pushing into the group of older boys that filled -the big bay window. “Have you heard about the Newbury crew’s getting a -holiday?” he demanded. - -His brother Jack seized him roughly. “What is it?” - -“They’re going down to Cohasset to spend to-day and to-night. They -aren’t coming back to school until ten o’clock to-morrow, and they don’t -have to prepare any lessons.” - -“Who told you?” asked Jack, suspiciously. - -“Winny Thorne. I saw him on the car. His brother’s on their crew.” - -“And we’ve got to stay here all day and study all the evening on -to-morrow’s lessons!” exclaimed Louis. “It’s a roast!” - -“They ought to let the first crew off, anyway,” said Eaton. “The second -doesn’t need it so much.” - -“They could come down with me to Manchester,” offered Rust. “The house -is open, and I could take care of five perfectly well.” - -“Do you suppose the old man would let us?” asked Eaton. - -Talbot considered. “He might, if we could make him see that it’s -necessary. I’ll try him, anyway.” - -After the opening Bible-reading, the captain of the crew followed Mr. -Westcott to the office. He returned in three minutes, crestfallen. “It’s -no go,” he passed the news along. “He wouldn’t even discuss it.” - -Some very sour faces scowled over the tops of books for the next -half-hour. Those near the windows stole occasional glances into the -street and across to the Garden beyond. It was a perfect June day, warm -and quiet, with limpid air sleepily stirring and the sun beaming -benignly over all. The autos of the unimprisoned idle slid by in endless -succession, bearing their fortunate occupants whithersoever fancy -called. The new green leaves on the trees in the Garden quivered -soothingly over the groups of nurses and perambulators and playing -children, and the poverty-blessed loafers slouching in unambitious -contentment on the benches. And this beautiful day Newbury could enjoy, -care-free, on the rocks at Cohasset, while the Westcott fellows were -mewed up in a stuffy schoolroom, grinding out loathsome lessons. It was -wicked! - -The day passed as others before it. Lessons had to be learned and -recitations made. That night every oarsman was pledged to be in bed at -half-past nine. Out at Adams’s all noise was forbidden after nine -o’clock, on pain of frightful tortures. Roger slept ten hours without a -break, and awoke at sound of the rising bell, feeling strong enough to -row the race alone. - -The school hours of Friday dragged out their wonted course. At two, -Talbot was called to the telephone, and emerged, chuckling tremendously, -to meet McDowell at the foot of the stairs. - -“It’s the biggest joke I ever heard. The Newbury fellows sat round on -the rocks all day yesterday in sleeveless shirts, and burnt their arms -so that they couldn’t sleep at all last night. And we slept like tops!” - -“Gee, but that’s great!” crowed Mac. “I hope the old man won’t hear -about it, though!” - -“Where you going?” demanded the captain, as Mac started up the stairs. -“You ought to be getting out to the boat-house.” - -“Volunteer French,” answered Mac, calmly. “I can’t afford to miss it. I -only got fifty on my last exam. The race doesn’t come till three-thirty. -I’ll be out in time.” - -Talbot gaped after the lithe figure as it scurried up the stairs. -“After-school work on the day of the race!” he gasped. “And Newbury with -two days off! This is a pretty school!” - -Mac turned up at three o’clock, whistling as unconcernedly as if he were -out for an ordinary practice, quite undisturbed by the reproaches hurled -at his head. By the time he was dressed the _Veritas_ was in sight, -bringing the whole Varsity crew to see the races, and sailing under the -command of Deering himself. President John again elected to go on the -launch, convinced that here his light would shine more brilliantly, and -desiring to make sure in advance of the best vantage-point from which to -gloat over the whole triumphant course of his crew when the great race -came off. - -The atmosphere on the launch that day was unfavorable to the shining of -lesser lights. Deering’s authority and Deering’s personality dominated -the little craft. Though the Varsity captain spoke pleasantly to the -referee, discussed the arrangement for sending off the boats with the -starter, and greeted one of the newspaper reporters cordially as -“Billy,” he ignored completely the presence of the father of the -Triangular League, who sat obscurely in the stern, scowling with -affected indifference over his cigarette. - -“He won’t speak to me, eh! Just like a Westcott snob!” the president -muttered to himself. “What do I care? He won’t be so proud when he sees -Newbury lead his school by four or five lengths. I hope Yale will lick -his crew to their knees!”—a feat, by the way, which Yale failed to -achieve by some quarter of a mile. - -To the Varsity men in the bow of the _Veritas_, the race for second -crews seemed a tame affair. Westcott’s got a lead of half a length at -the start, increased it to a whole one at the quarter, doubled this -advantage during the next half mile, and added still another length in a -pretty display-spurt beyond the bridge. Hoarse and happy, Mike brought -his boat in to the float past a crowd of yelling, dancing friends who -were putting to an extreme test the boasted stability of the old Spanish -cutter. The members of the first crew, delighted to consider the -complete victory of their schoolmates a good omen for their own race, -helped Mac and his men out of their boat and poured sweet praises into -their ears. - -“Nothing like a little extra French after school to get you ready for a -race,” panted Mac, as Talbot wrung his hand and blessed him with a dozen -different kinds of exclamation. “I hope you fellows won’t suffer from -lack of it.” - -“Suffer from lack of it, you old idiot! Do you suppose we have strength -to throw away?” - -“Get a lead in the beginning,” urged Mac, becoming serious. “It’s a lot -easier to keep it than to get it after you’ve lost it. Newbury will quit -if you can once show them your rudder.” - -Pete nodded. - -“And drive your crew,” continued Mac. “They can stand a lot more than -they did on Wednesday.” - -“I think they’ll have a chance for all the work they want to do. I’ll -try to satisfy even Roger.” - -Bow oar reddened, but said nothing. He knew well that Pete would push -the crew to its last gasp, and he had doubts as to his ability to hold -his own with the hard-muscled, strong-headed stroke, who was as -incapable of yielding as the Old Guard of surrendering, or the dying -bulldog of relinquishing his grip on his enemy. There was one method, of -course, by which Roger could meet the strain, and come out fresh at the -end to smile at Pete’s challenge. He might weaken just a little on his -pull as the labor told, might put a trifle less than his best into his -stroke, and thus shrewdly save himself from extreme exhaustion. But to -do that was to be a quitter, and bow oar’s scorn for a quitter was equal -to Pete’s. “I’ll give him all I’ve got, anyway,” he said to himself. “If -I break, it will be because I can’t row any more, not because I won’t.” - -There was trouble in starting. Westcott’s and Bainbridge got twice into -position and drifted away again before the others, shuffling for places, -reached the line. Waterville was badly cox-swained; Newbury apparently -loitered on purpose, hoping, after the manner of certain Varsity crews -at New London, to worry opponents by prolonged suspense. So at least -Pete opined, and his word, passed back through the boat, set four pairs -of jaws tight together and swamped all nervous fear under a hot wave of -determination. When the pistol-shot rang forth, Newbury’s oar-blades -were already in the water. As the stroke lengthened out, after a hundred -yards, Newbury and Bainbridge were neck and neck, half a length ahead of -Westcott’s, which was rowing a steady, smooth stroke which looked like -an exhibition of skill, yet carried with it the united heave of four -straining bodies. - -“Those Westcott fellows aren’t bad,” said Deering, who stood beside -reporter Billy and watched the struggling oarsmen with the eye of an -expert. “They move well, catch together, and get their hands away -quickly.” - -“Good crew!” answered Billy, wisely, “but too light to last well. -They’re coming up on Newbury now. It’s about time for Bainbridge to -shake ’em both.” - -Deering was silent for some seconds, gazing with that concentration of -attention which a horse fancier gives to the movements of a blooded -steed. “That crew is going to be hard to shake,” he said finally. -“They’ve got a half length on Newbury without raising the stroke more -than a point. There’s hardly any check between strokes.” - -“And Bainbridge has got a length,” said Billy, significantly. - -In the Westcott boat Rust was urging Two to be careful about his slide, -and informing Talbot of the relative position of the crews. Pete raised -the stroke slightly, and his crew pushed a whole length ahead of -Newbury, which likewise spurted, but lost through inferior form the -advantage gained by the accelerated stroke. - -“Halfway!” yelled Rust. “We’ve got a good length on Newbury. Steady now! -Hard all the way through! Don’t rush your slide, Two!” - -Talbot held to the increased stroke, sure that the critical moment of -the contest with Newbury was at hand; if he could open water between the -boats, he was confident that Newbury would never rally. His men followed -him in splendid unison. For Roger the first great weariness had passed. -He was rowing mechanically now, putting into his drive all the strength -which he thought safe to force from himself, his whole attention -concentrated on his oar and his slide and the back of the man before -him. He heard the four blasts of the whistle which announced that -Bainbridge was leading, but he cared little for that; he was rowing to -beat Newbury, and Newbury was behind! - -“Open water!” exclaimed Billy. “Half a length of open water! I wish I -had taken that bet of three to one on Newbury against Westcott’s. -Newbury’s out of it for sure.” - -“Not yet!” said a stifled voice at his elbow. “I’m not giving up yet. -They’ll come up on ’em. They’ve got to.” - -Billy turned to find John Smith at his side, occupying the place of the -Harvard captain who had gone aft to his crew. President John’s eyes were -fixed upon the Westcott boat in a hostile glare, his hands tightly -gripping the rail, his face drawn with suppressed emotion. - -“Make it up!” answered the unsympathetic Billy. “How are they going to -make up two lengths against that crew? Why, the more they try to spurt, -the worse they row! Number Three there is about all in now. You can see -it yourself.” - -“Bainbridge will beat ’em anyway,” muttered Smith, fiercely. “Go it, -Bainbridge! Kill ’em, Bainbridge!” - -[Illustration: “GO IT, BAINBRIDGE! KILL ’EM, BAINBRIDGE!”] - -Billy threw a glance of curiosity at his neighbor’s face and grinned -broadly. “Been betting heavy against Westcott’s and feels sore,” he said -to himself; but Billy was mistaken. It wasn’t a losing wager that -charged that face with venom, but defeat and wounded vanity. President -John considered himself a sportsman; in fact he was only a partisan; -rabid, narrow, unforgiving. He hated the crew that was vanquishing his -own, that was stealing from him the triumph which he had confidently -expected and in the prospect of which he had openly gloried. - -The crews were close to the bridge now. Roger longed for the comfort of -its shadow, longed for the word of the coxswain that the end was near. -He felt now as he swung forward to his catch that he had but a -half-dozen more strokes in his body. To row another hundred yards seemed -absolutely impossible. - -“Bainbridge only two-thirds of a length ahead!” shouted Rust. In answer -Pete bellowed over his shoulder: “Get into it now! Don’t quit!” Roger -felt the stroke quicken and mechanically followed. For the first time -during the race the remembrance of Pete’s challenge recurred to him. He -was worn and weak; his eyes bleared, his head was a dull depressing -weight upon his shoulders, every muscle in his body cried aloud for -mercy; but his spirit rose in defiance and sent along the quivering -nerves a command which the muscles could not disobey. - -“Only half a length now!” cried Rust, as the boat emerged beyond the -bridge. “You can do it, only twelve more!” - -Talbot lifted his stroke another notch, and Rust counted. At each pull -Roger assured himself that he could do one more, and threw into that one -all the power that was in him. He could hardly see Eaton’s back as it -swayed before him. The race had lost interest for him; he was fighting -Talbot, proving that he was no quitter. - -“Seven—eight,” counted Rust. “Pull! Pull! You’re almost there!” - -Four more! To Roger those four strokes seemed like four of the labors of -Hercules. He could do but one before he broke,—but one more after that. -Dizziness came sweeping over him, he gasped hard for breath. One more -before he fainted!— - -“Let her run!” screamed the coxswain. - -Roger dropped, but caught himself by a supreme effort as Pete turned his -dripping, heaving shoulder to look at his crew. Over the stooping bodies -of Three and Two he saw the upright form of Bow, smiled faintly, and -lurched heavily forward, while Rust splashed water into his face. Behind -him Bow slumped down upon his oar. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI - - CONCLUSION - - -“WESTCOTT’S by six feet!” announced Mr. Henderson, judge at the finish, -as the crowd pressed about him to learn the official verdict. - -Mac and his men burst forth in a howl of joy. Trask threw up his arms -and yelled the news across the water to the crew of the quinquereme, who -went wild with excitement. Their historic boat, which had escaped the -missiles of war unscathed, very nearly succumbed to the perils of peace. -The _Veritas_, swinging round to the float after the laggard crews had -crept in, found the cutter shoved directly into its path through the -efforts of two lads who continued to chop the water vehemently while -they yelled, as oblivious to the direction they were taking as stokers -in the hold of a steamship to the course laid down by the navigator. The -Varsity manager, who was steering the launch, backed his engine and -saved the cutter for another race day. - -Meantime Billy was scribbling notes on a block of yellow paper, Deering -was smiling in dignified exultation among his crew, and President John, -his face white with ill-suppressed rage, was reviling to two curious -reporters the folly of the Newbury oarsmen who had thrown away a sure -victory. - -“The very best crew on the river!” he declared with emphatic spacing of -words and savage jerks of the head. “Look at the weight and strength in -that boat! Why, they pulled away from Westcott’s on Wednesday without -half trying. It was just a little practice spin for ’em. Then I got ’em -a holiday yesterday at the shore, and what did they do? Trotted round on -the rocks and played ball in the red-hot sun in sleeveless shirts! Burnt -their arms raw, of course. They didn’t get a wink of sleep all last -night.” - -“Westcott’s had it on ’em to-day all right”, remarked the reporter. -“That crew looked pretty good to me!” - -“It’s a fair enough sort of a crew, but they had luck and we didn’t. -That’s just what beat us, hard luck.” - -Smith turned away to leave the launch, which was already fast. The -_Ledger_ man glanced after him and winked at his companion. - -“Sore!” said the latter, tersely. - -By this time the Westcott oarsmen had revived and brought their boat in -to the float. Here, in the forefront of the enthusiasts, stood a tall, -deep-chested young man, wearing a hatband with the revered crimson and -black vertical stripes, who shook hands with each weary rower as he left -the boat and gave him a personal compliment which was destined to remain -a cherished memory when the general events of school life should have -faded into the limbo of things forgotten. Then Deering returned to the -launch, which was soon speeding up the river to its moorings; and the -Westcott crew, already recovering from the grinding strain through the -quick recuperative power of sturdy boyhood, and too happy to heed their -exhaustion, carried their boat into the house, where they gave -themselves up to the refreshing luxury of the shower bath and the -delight of mutual congratulations. - -The next day was a happy one for the boys at Westcott’s. From the older -fellows who hailed the triumph of their fortunate mates with a delight -untouched by envy, to the little chaps in knee trousers in whose eyes -the members of the first crew were as demigods, complacency and pride -pervaded the school like a mild intoxication. Mr. Westcott made a speech -of congratulation in which he expressed himself as especially pleased -that such excellent crews had been developed without interference with -the regular daily work—a sentiment which the boys, if they did not -appreciate, were, under the circumstances, willing to forgive. Pete, -too, made a speech—a jerky, inartistic, vehement little harangue, -strong in patriotism though weak in rhetoric, which was uproariously -applauded. Then the cheers were let loose, a din that made the windows -rattle and caused the neighbors for half a block to regret that they had -not fixed upon an earlier date for migrating to the quiet of the -country. “_It clamor cœlo_,” muttered Mr. Stevens, senior classical -master, with a quiet smile, and he stole away to his own recitation room -to save his ear-drums. - -Almost as noisy was the welcome given a few days later to the cup -itself, when it made its second appearance before the school, coming -this time for a year’s sojourn. President John, who had gulped down the -bitter medicine which had been forced upon him, and now was trying to -forget the taste of it, sent with the trophy a flowery note which Mr. -Westcott read to an appreciative audience. - -“I’ll bet he swore when he wrote that,” whispered Wilmot to his -seat-mate. - -Pete nodded. “It must have come hard. When he showed the thing to us -last fall, I never expected to see it here again.” - -“They probably can’t keep it another year,” said Steve, loftily. “There -won’t be much here after we leave.” - -But the little boys of big faith, in the front seats, who were straining -their eyes to make out the inscription on the first shield, had not -shared the anxieties of their elders, nor did they now worry about the -year to come. They had known all along that their champions could be -trusted to bring the school colors out on top, while as for the -future—what future was there but the June examinations and the summer -vacation? - -One more formality had still to be attended to before the athletic -season could be declared closed,—the election of a captain of the crew -for the next year. It was merely a formality, for, since Roger Hardie -was the only one of the five who would not graduate, the choice was -strictly limited. - -“It’s a great honor to be captain of the Westcott crew,” said Roger, as -he came downstairs with Pete after the meeting, “but I wish there had -been some competition. It’s like winning a race by default.” - -“You didn’t do any defaulting in the race,” replied Talbot, somewhat -illogically, “though I was a good deal troubled about you early in the -season. I had a guilty conscience for several weeks.” - -“Why?” - -“Because I had prevented your being made captain of the eleven.” - -“I knew you did. You didn’t think I was fit for it. I didn’t blame you.” - -“Nonsense! I wanted you for the crew captain next year. I took long -odds, and I couldn’t explain because I couldn’t be sure you’d make good. -At one time I thought you never would.” - -Roger gave a laugh of contentment. “I was an awful dub at first. Wilmot -wanted to fire me out of the pair-oar.” - -“And I wouldn’t let him,” said Pete, complacently. “I thought you had -the stuff in you, if we could only bring it out. Next year you’ll be -first lord of the school, and I shall be lost among six hundred -freshmen.” - -“Lost!” echoed Roger, derisively. “Anybody can find _you_ easy enough, -if he’ll only search the freshman boat. Your seat will be down somewhere -near the stern.” - - - - - THE END. - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - - - ● Transcriber’s Notes: - ○ Missing or obscured punctuation was corrected. - ○ Unbalanced quotation marks were left as the author intended. - ○ Typographical errors were silently corrected. - ○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were only made consistent - when a predominant form was found in this book: e.g. “practice” - and “programe.” - ○ Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_). - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The School Four, by Albertus T. 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Dudley - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The School Four - -Author: Albertus T. Dudley - -Illustrator: Charles Copeland - -Release Date: December 21, 2017 [EBook #56215] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SCHOOL FOUR *** - - - - -Produced by Barry Abrahamsen and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class='figcenter id001'> -<img src='images/cover.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div> - <h1 class='c001'>THE SCHOOL FOUR</h1> -</div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c002' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div>BOOKS BY ALBERTUS T. DUDLEY</div> - <div class='c000'><i>Phillips Exeter Series</i></div> - <div class='c000'>Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>FOLLOWING THE BALL.</div> - <div class='line'>MAKING THE NINE.</div> - <div class='line'>IN THE LINE.</div> - <div class='line'>WITH MASK AND MITT.</div> - <div class='line'>THE GREAT YEAR.</div> - <div class='line'>THE YALE CUP.</div> - <div class='line'>A FULL-BACK AFLOAT.</div> - <div class='line'>THE PECKS IN CAMP.</div> - <div class='line'>THE HALF-MILER.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c003' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>Stories of the Triangular League</i></div> - <div class='c000'>Illustrated by <span class='sc'>Charles Copeland</span>. 12mo. Cloth.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>THE SCHOOL FOUR.</div> - <div class='line'>AT THE HOME-PLATE.</div> - <div class='line'>THE UNOFFICIAL PREFECT.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c003' /> -<div class='lg-container-b'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>THE KING’S POWDER.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c003' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c002' /> -</div> -<div id='i004' class='figcenter id002'> -<img src='images/i004.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic002'> -<p><span class='sc'>The Westcott man clutched the ball over his rival’s head.</span></p> -</div> -</div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><i>STORIES OF THE TRIANGULAR LEAGUE</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c004' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><span class='xlarge'>THE SCHOOL FOUR</span></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='small'>BY</span></div> - <div class='c000'>ALBERTUS T. DUDLEY</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='small'>AUTHOR OF “PHILLIPS EXETER SERIES”</span></div> - <div class='c000'><i>ILLUSTRATED BY CHARLES COPELAND</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id003'> -<img src='images/i005.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>BOSTON</div> - <div class='c000'>LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c002' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='sc'>Copyright, 1909, by Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co.</span></div> - <div class='c000'>Published, August, 1909.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c003' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>All Rights Reserved.</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c003' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><span class='sc'>The School Four.</span></div> - <div class='c005'>PRINTED IN U.S.A.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c002' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c006'>PREFACE</h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'>“The School Four” is a story of football -and rowing, its scene laid in a private school in -an Eastern city. As in the Phillips Exeter books, -the aim has been to keep the athletics practical -and technically correct, and at the same time to -present such conceptions of life and conduct as -may encourage the boy reader to face his own -school problems with the right spirit. Later volumes -will treat successively of the city high -school and the country boarding-school.</p> - -<p class='c008'>To Mr. John Richardson, Jr., captain of the -undefeated Harvard crew of 1908, the author -owes a special debt for expert counsel, for the -freedom of the Harvard coaching launch, and, -above all else, for personal inspiration.</p> -<p class='c009'>A. T. DUDLEY.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c002' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c006'>CONTENTS</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div><a href='#ch01'>CHAPTER I</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>John Smith, President</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch02'>CHAPTER II</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>The Cup</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch03'>CHAPTER III</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>Archibald Dunn</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch04'>CHAPTER IV</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>Recruits for the Football Squad</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch05'>CHAPTER V</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>At Adams’s</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch06'>CHAPTER VI</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>The Story of Jason</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch07'>CHAPTER VII</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>Sumner chooses a Successor</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch08'>CHAPTER VIII</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>A Slighted Offer</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch09'>CHAPTER IX</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>The Newbury Game</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch10'>CHAPTER X</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>The Scouts bring News</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch11'>CHAPTER XI</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>A Fruitless Interview</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch12'>CHAPTER XII</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>President John’s Ideals</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch13'>CHAPTER XIII</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>The Committee Decides</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch14'>CHAPTER XIV</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>The Trowbridge Game</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch15'>CHAPTER XV</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>Dunn’s Disappointments</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch16'>CHAPTER XVI</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>Mike Advises</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch17'>CHAPTER XVII</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>A Kindled Ambition</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch18'>CHAPTER XVIII</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>The Shooting Match</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch19'>CHAPTER XIX</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>A Loss to the Nine</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch20'>CHAPTER XX</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>In the Pair-oar</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch21'>CHAPTER XXI</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>The Second Crew</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch22'>CHAPTER XXII</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>A Shift in the Boat</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch23'>CHAPTER XXIII</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>The Weakened Heart</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch24'>CHAPTER XXIV</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>The Trials</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch25'>CHAPTER XXV</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>The Final Struggle</span></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#ch26'>CHAPTER XXVI</a></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>Conclusion</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c002' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c006'>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div><a href='#i004'>The Westcott man clutched the ball over his rival’s head</a></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#i047'>“They ought to tie a string to it and give Fatty the end”</a></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#i077'>His feet going like the arms of a hay tedder</a></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#i173'>Swung him directly into Hardie’s arms</a></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#i253'>And watch the Varsity eight sweep magnificently by</a></div> - <div class='c000'><a href='#i325'>“Go it, Bainbridge! Kill ’em, Bainbridge!”</a></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c002' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='xlarge'>THE SCHOOL FOUR</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch01' class='c010'>CHAPTER I <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>JOHN SMITH, PRESIDENT</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>The</span> first suggestion of the Triangular League -came from a certain aspiring and nimble-witted -graduate of the Newbury Latin named John -Smith, whose surname, occurring on every page -of every daily paper, should safely conceal his -identity from any over-curious reader of this story. -Moreover, it may be asserted with truth that the -particular John Smith who called the first meeting -of representatives of the three schools is not to be -found on any of the eighteen pages of Smiths in the -last Boston directory. It is enough for our purpose -to know that he looked over the material in the -upper half of the Newbury Latin and found it to -his liking—good for the present and promising -for the future. He considered within himself, -with what he imagined to be uncommon shrewdness, -that it is better for a school to be at the head -of a small league than to swell the troop at the -conqueror’s heels in a larger one. His reason for -selecting Westcott’s and the Trowbridge School -as complements to the Newbury Latin in this -laudably patriotic scheme was that while they -contained decent fellows and were nominally fair -rivals, they were probably beatable without -killing exertion. This last item was not included -in the argument for the organization which he -presented to the first meeting. His speech here -took loftier grounds, such as the charms of an -alliance between naturally friendly schools, and -the splendid athletic ideals for which the new -league would stand.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Either John Smith’s idea or John Smith’s -argument carried weight, for the league was -formed, and the three schools pledged themselves -to maintain it and abide by its rules. In recognition -of his unselfish services in behalf of the -cause, and at the suggestion of Mr. Snyder, an -instructor at Trowbridge, who insisted that the -direction of affairs should be in the hands of some -mature person, Mr. John Smith was elected president. -It was voted that a managing committee -consisting of two representatives from each school, -together with the president, <i>ex officio</i>, should be -empowered to draw up rules, arrange schedules, -select officials, and act as general board of control.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The first meeting of this permanent committee -was held at Westcott’s, in Boston, just before the -end of the school year. After the visitors had -departed, Sumner and Talbot remained behind to -discuss events from the Westcott point of view.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s going to be great!” opined Sumner, with -his usual outburst of enthusiasm for what he -approved. “Everything was pleasant and -straight, and nobody tried to get the advantage -of anybody else.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’m not so sure about that,” answered Joe Talbot, -commonly called “Pete.” The origin of this -nickname is involved in obscurity. Some boys -derived it from a character in a play; some asserted -that Joe’s family had given him the name -in jest when he was a toddler. Steve Wilmot, -the wag of the class, maintained that it was descriptive,—he -was called Pete because he looked -Pete,—and this explanation was on the whole -popular, especially as Talbot stoutly protested -against it.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Why not?” demanded Sumner.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ve no confidence in that Smith. He’s too -oily and smug. He’s got some scheme he means -to work.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Shucks!” retorted Jack. “Your brother Bob -has prejudiced you against him with his talk -about that old football squabble. If I were a -junior in college, like Bob, I’d try to forget about -school rows.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Those are the things you remember longest,” -Pete answered wisely. “You can’t change the -facts, can you? You can’t make a low trick any -better by forgetting it. If it happened, it’s history, -as much as Bunker Hill. It shows the kind -of man Smith is.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Was!” corrected Jack. “That was a long -time ago, and he’s probably changed as much as -we have since we came into the sixth together. -Just think what little fools we were then, how we -thought the verb <i>amo</i> was too hard to learn, and -cried when Mr. Lawton lectured us, and Mussy -used to send us out of French every day for -whispering in class.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We weren’t anything but kids then. Neither -of us was over twelve.” Talbot spoke as if seventeen, -which was their present age, represented -the climax of maturity.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I was just trying to make you see that people -change. Smith has changed too.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Perhaps he has,” growled Talbot, “but I don’t -believe it’s for the better. He’s got us into the -league just because he thinks Newbury can beat -us. You don’t suppose he’s doing it out of love -for us, do you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No doubt he thinks we are a good crowd for -his school to tie up with,” answered Sumner, with -ready complacency. “I really believe those -fellows would rather beat us than any other -school, but that’s because they are jealous of us. -We are only a private school, more than half of -us little kids in knickerbockers, but we have -the inside track in Harvard, and we’re on the top -socially. They don’t like that.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s the little kids and getting into college so -early that spoils our athletics,” remarked Talbot. -“Newbury is a public endowed school with lots -of big fellows who don’t go to college, and -Trowbridge is a boarding-school in the country -where the fellows have nothing to do but play -games all day. We aren’t anything but a school -building in town and a playground in Brookline.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And Adams’s,” put in Sumner.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Adams’s was the house of the instructor who -lived at the athletic field. It contained a schoolroom -for such boys as were condemned to prepare -the next day’s lessons before they left the field in -the afternoon, and quarters for a limited number -of boarding pupils.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Adams’s!” exclaimed Pete. “What good is -that? A half-dozen little kids who play on the -fourth or third, and a few older fellows whose -parents are abroad or can’t stand them at home. -There wasn’t a fellow there last year who did -anything for the school.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“There was Pitkin,” Sumner remarked. “He’d -have made the second crew if he hadn’t caught -the measles.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He might,” responded Talbot, in a tone which -implied that he probably wouldn’t. “But what’s -Pitkin, anyway?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Ben Tracy is going there next year,” went -on Sumner, “and that cousin Louis of his who -lives in Worcester, and some one from New Jersey. -There may be some other new fellows.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The usual orphan asylum!” commented Talbot, -savagely. “It’s four to one that none of -’em will be good for anything. You always see -things about one hundred per cent better than -they really are.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s not half so bad as seeing them one hundred -per cent worse than they are, as you do, -you old growler!” retorted his friend, with a -laugh.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They can’t be a hundred per cent worse,” -maintained Talbot. “That’s a logical impossibility. -It would bring ’em below the zero point.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>And then, being boys, in spite of their advanced -age and the seriousness of their interest and the -fact that both, avowedly at least, were putting -every available minute into their preparation for -the next week’s battle with the Harvard preliminaries, -they wrangled for a good quarter of -an hour over the possibility—logical, actual, -or theoretical—of things being a hundred per -cent worse than they were without reaching the -vanishing point. The reader will be spared this -argument. If he is a boy, he can manufacture -it for himself; if a grown-up, he has only to listen -quietly to a knot of boys waiting in idleness for -a bell to ring or a train to appear, and he will -understand how it is done.</p> - -<p class='c008'>When the discussion had run its length, they -recurred naturally to the first theme of conversation. -It was Pete who reintroduced the topic -of the new league.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Whether Smith is straight or crooked,” he -said, “he certainly expects his school to come out -ahead. I’d give something to beat him at his -little game.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Wouldn’t it be great!” Sumner’s exclamation -was like an anticipatory smack of the lips; his -eyes were fixed in a fervent but unseeing stare on -the blank wall, his face beamed with delight at -the mental foretaste of the joys of triumph. “We -may do it, too!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And we may not!” answered Talbot, rising. -“Let’s get after those French sentences.”</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch02' class='c006'>CHAPTER II <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>THE CUP</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>Whatever</span> his faults, the president of the new -league possessed unquestionably the virtue of -activity. While the Westcott boys, scattered -up and down the coast from Long Island Sound -to Bar Harbor, were amusing themselves in their -own idle but wholesome fashion,—camping, -cruising, racing boats, playing tennis matches, -and exchanging visits,—Mr. John Smith was -devoting his surplus energy to the cause. One -tangible result of his labors formed the basis -of much curious questioning when Westcott’s -gathered at the end of September for the year’s -work. A prize was to be offered to stimulate -interest in the contests of the league. Though -many of the Westcott graduates had been laid -under contribution and might be supposed to know -definitely the purpose for which their money -had been expended, it was soon discovered that -no one possessed information extending beyond -the statements in the newspapers. These began -with encomiums on Mr. John Smith for his enthusiastic -and efficient services and the success with -which he had “rallied about him his hosts of -friends”; they ended with congratulations to the -new league on having a man of Mr. Smith’s -caliber and influence at its head. In between -was sandwiched the meagre news that a cup was -to be competed for by the schools on terms to be -announced later.</p> - -<p class='c008'>But Westcott’s had no notion of waiting until -later. The boys stirred up the contributing -graduates, and the graduates addressed to Mr. -Smith certain pointed inquiries which suggested -to the astute leader that it would be wise to announce -the conditions immediately, even at the -risk of losing some advantage for his own school. -He appeared, therefore, at Westcott’s, one day -during the second week of the term, bearing a big -box of tinted cardboard, and made a speech to -the assembled school in which he set forth the -conditions of the gift and the high hopes of the -givers. Then, with great impressiveness and in -the midst of quivering expectancy, he removed -the cover of the box, undid a bag of canton -flannel and held forth the glittering thing to the -general admiration.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“To remain from year to year in the possession -of the school which shall last have won it, and to -be held permanently when three times won.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>To this announcement the school gave bountiful -applause. The older boys, though harassed by -grave doubts of their ability to fulfil the conditions, -understood the privilege offered them and were -grateful; while the knee-trousered, flattering -themselves with the assurance that the splendid, -two-handled vase, like a reward for good behavior, -must ultimately be theirs, smote their hands -together long and violently. Whereupon Mr. -John Smith, who showed himself to be a sharp-featured, -somewhat over-dressed young man, -with no semblance of that personal diffidence -with which great men are often handicapped, -smiled blandly, restored the treasure to its double -envelope, shook hands with Mr. Westcott, gave -the school another benevolent and congratulatory -smirk, and departed—bearing his cup with him.</p> - -<p class='c008'>At the recess period for the first and second, four -fellows took places round the small table in the -corner of the lunch room; a fifth seized a chair -and pushed in among them as if he belonged there. -Others bought themselves handfuls of munchable -food at the other end of the room and hurried to -get a position at the railing which separated the -hot-lunchers from those who patronized the counter. -The confusion of half a dozen talking at -once obscured the opening of the discussion.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The crew’s in it. That’s good for us,” declared -Rolfe, getting the first hearing in the babel. -“We’ll trust you to win that for us, Pete.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Talbot, the captain of the crew, would probably -have disputed this loud assumption if he had -been given an opportunity to speak; but others -were readier of tongue.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And the track’s out!” cried Seamans. He -held a sandwich untasted within three inches of -his lips and stared over the railing into Rolfe’s -face with an expression of disgust.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Bad for you, Sim,” called out Jack Sumner. -“You’ll have to go in for baseball.—Some soup, -please.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Newbury lost all her track men last year, -that’s why the track’s out.” Talbot had found -his tongue.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s not the reason,” proclaimed Sumner. -“Mr. Westcott doesn’t believe in track work for -schoolboys. He thinks it’s too much of a strain -for young fellows like us. Your brother Bob has -the same idea. He told me just the other day -that it usually spoiled fellows for college running.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Smithy would have put it in all the same, if -Newbury had any show for it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t quite understand about those conditions,” -came from the lips of a boy at the railing, -who was poising a buttered bread stick before a -broad, big-featured face crowned with shaggy hair.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You never understand anything, Fluffy,” -cut in Wilmot. “A fellow who asks ‘why’ about -the laws of falling bodies—”</p> - -<p class='c008'>He hesitated, giving Fluffy a chance to ejaculate, -“You don’t know yourself—”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And don’t care!” retorted Wilmot. “I know -they fall, and there’s a rule about it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t mean falling bodies, I mean about the -cup!” Fluffy got this out in the face of a storm -that threatened to sweep him the whole length -of the railing. No one wanted to hear a debate -between Fluffy Dobbs and Wilmot on the laws of -falling bodies.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s clear enough,” said Sumner. “There are -three sports that count, football, baseball, and -crew. Whoever wins two of them gets the cup -for a year. The school that gets it three times -has it to keep.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Do you understand that, Fluffy?” called -Wilmot. “Because if you don’t, we’ll get you a -map and a guide-book.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But supposing each of the three schools wins at -one sport?” proposed Fluffy, undisturbed by Wilmot’s -jeers, to which he was evidently well accustomed.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No score!” returned Sumner, quickly.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Are they going to have special crew races -with Newbury and Trowbridge?” asked Tracy.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No, we all row in the Interscholastic.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Then the first thing for us to do is to win at -football,” said Trask. “It’s up to you fellows -to start the thing right.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Easy enough for you to say when you don’t -play,” said a tall, wiry, light-haired boy who up -to this time had been listening in silence. “Give -us the material, and we’ll do it. We can’t make -bricks without straw.” Harrison was captain -of the eleven.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh, yes, you can, only it’s harder. A really -good captain could make a team out of ’most -anything. Any fool captain can win with a -bunch of stars.” Wilmot’s significant grin disarmed -this seemingly insulting remark of all its -sting. Everybody respected Eliot Harrison, and -Wilmot enjoyed a liberty of his own.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The lot we had out yesterday was more like -a flock of goats than a bunch of stars,” growled -Pete.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“A goat ought to be mighty good in the centre -of the line,” said Wilmot, reflectively. “He -could butt a hole right through the other side, -and that’s about all guard and centre have to do. -Now if you could only get a few good butting -goats into the line—”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Or teach your own goats to butt,” suggested -Tracy.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Wilmot slammed the table. “That’s the -best idea yet! Get a goat as assistant coach, -a good old side-hill, can-eating, whiskered billy -that’s practiced butting from his youth up. He’d -show the line how to open holes!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The audience warmed noisily to Wilmot’s -proposition.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He’d look fine on the side-lines, wouldn’t he?” -This sarcastic comment came from sober-faced -little Stanley Hale of the sixth, whose class, by -the necessities of the school schedule, shared the -recess hour of the older boys. The influence of -the kindergarten and the fairy tale was still effective -in Stanley’s mind. Ideas still translated -themselves for his intelligence into pictures, and -the picture of the goat stood out vividly before -him.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He could be a mascot, Stan,” said Sumner, -turning to smile at Stanley.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He’d be a great help in the cheering,” went on -Wilmot. “The sixth could give him lessons. -He’d cheer bass to their soprano.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>By this time there was a general and hilarious -interest in the development of Wilmot’s suggestion -which rendered impossible all serious discussion -of the morning’s announcement. Foolish -jesting became epidemic, and wit soon ran into -silliness. Two boys showed no disposition to share -in the levity. Harrison smiled but rarely, and -then feebly and against his will; Talbot’s scowl -grew deeper and blacker as Wilmot’s fancy spread -from the centre, where it had originated, out into -the ranks of the clumsy-wits who seized upon it -with rough hands, tossed it to and fro, squeezed -it dry of whatever freshness and cleverness it -might have contained, and dropped it in ennui -for some new catchword ten minutes later.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The bystanders drifted forth for a walk, the -sixth ran into the yard and played goat tag, the -pursuer being the goat.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I wish you wouldn’t say that kind of thing, -Steve,” began Harrison, when the coast was clear. -“It hurts the team to make sport of it or any one -on it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Wilmot opened his eyes. “I didn’t make sport -of it. I just offered a suggestion. You don’t -have to take it, if you don’t want to.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We’ve got to have the respect and support of -the school if we are going to do anything,” went -on Harrison, trying to be sensible and keep his -temper. “All that talk about goats makes the -team ridiculous.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It puts everything to the bad right at the -beginning of the season,” broke in Talbot, roughly. -“If you want to spoil all our chances, just keep -it up. You don’t care, of course, as long as you -get your fun out of it, but the rest of us have a -little school spirit left and a little self-respect!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Who introduced the subject, anyway?” demanded -Wilmot, triumphantly. “It was you -that did it, and it was you that called the team -goats. I just built on your suggestion.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I won’t argue it,” answered Pete, savagely. -“You’d twist my words against me. But just -try the goat business with the crew, and see what -you’ll get. Harry may put up with it if he wants -to. I wouldn’t!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Now you’re getting peevish.” Wilmot rose -from the table, still keeping his smile of indifference, -but by no means content at heart. “I -don’t like you when you’re peevish!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The bell rang; the boys came flocking in and -crowded up the stairway. Harrison took Tracy’s -arm as they leisurely followed the stream.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Isn’t that new fellow at Adams’s coming out?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Who? Hardie?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes. He sat opposite us at luncheon to-day -with the kids and didn’t peep.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He hasn’t said much to any one yet. He’ll -be out to-day if he gets his clothes.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Do you think he’ll be good for anything?” -pursued the captain, anxiously. “We need about -six more good men.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Tracy gave his chin a side tip that might have -expressed doubt, or merely reserve of judgment. -“I don’t know. He isn’t very heavy, but if you’d -seen him chucking trunks around this morning, -you’d think him fairly strong.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Trunks?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes, we piled a few in front of his door last -night.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s a good thing to be strong, but a lot depends -on spirit,” began Harrison. What further he -may have intended to say, we shall never know, -for the sight of Mr. Spaulding standing at the -head of the stairs put a sudden gag upon his lips.</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch03' class='c006'>CHAPTER III <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>ARCHIBALD DUNN</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>Roger Hardie</span> knew absolutely no one at -Westcott’s when he moved into his room at -Adams’s that fall. His father was engaged in -the Argentine trade; and the day after Roger -was safely established in school the whole family -sailed for Buenos Aires to spend the winter there. -He took his fate stoically, trying hard to persuade -himself that he should soon feel at home, -but he could not avoid the sense of isolation and -exclusion which comes naturally to one of a very -few new boys among a great many very intimate -old ones; and he lacked entirely the aptitude for -quick friendships. Boys are seldom temperate -in their opinions of their own merits. Eliminate -the over-confident who run to freshness and the -under-confident who lack courage to assert themselves, -and there remain but a small percentage -who wisely follow the middle course. The over-modest -in the end is likely to outstrip the over-bold, -whose rash spirit is easily broken by unexpected -and humiliating defeats. The average -boy, however, takes very little thought for ultimate -results. He lives vividly in the present, is -captivated by boldness and dash and ready wit, -ranks caution with timidity, and suspects steadiness -to be mere feebleness in disguise.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger was naturally reticent; he was likewise -inclined to regard himself as neither attractive nor -clever. The first impression which he produced -on his mates at Adams’s was that of mediocrity. -They took him at his own valuation and disregarded -him. The consciousness that he wasn’t -considered worth while increased his reticence, -and at the same time stirred his obstinacy. He -certainly didn’t care for the boys if they didn’t care -for him. He would go one way, and let them go -another.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Hardie’s pique was enhanced by the apparently -different reception accorded to another new -Adamsite, Archibald Dunn. As a matter of fact, -the principle followed by the boys in the treatment -of the two cases was identical: each was -accepted at the outset at his face value. While -Hardie made no claim to ability, importance, -or friends among the great, Dunn’s method was -to assume everything, to throw himself frankly -on the credulity and friendliness of his new companions. -Of course he played football; he had -been end on the Westport High School at the -beginning of last season, but a shoulder bruise got -in the practice had thrown him out of the regular -games. He liked baseball better; he and a -friend of his, who made the Yale Freshmen, used -to be the battery of a corking little nine they -got up at their summer place. His favorite sport -was automobiling; in his first half-hour in Tracy’s -room he told five astonishing stories of marvellous -escapes from death or the police. He sailed, too,—used -to take charge of his uncle’s forty-footer -in cruises. Dunn’s manners were undeniably easy. -In twenty-four hours he knew all the small boys -at Adams’s by their nicknames, and treated the -older ones as if they were intimates of years’ -standing.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The Tracys, Ben and Louis, might smile a -little incredulously at the broadest of Dunn’s -claims, but he amused them, and, provisionally -at least, they accepted him. “He’s good sport, -anyway,” said Ben, on the second day of school, -while describing the Adams household to Sumner. -“He can talk more than any person I ever saw, -and he likes himself to beat the band, but he -seems to be a good fellow to have round.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What about Hardie?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh, he’s a zero, a good little boy that never -speaks unless he’s spoken to. He sat up in his -room all last evening, grinding at algebra and -Latin. Just think of being so fierce about the -first day’s lessons!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“All the new ones do that,” opined Sumner; -“they’re scared.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Dunn didn’t. He loafed round Louis’s room, -telling stories, the first two hours, and spent the -rest of the evening looking for a trot to Xenophon. -He says it’s a waste of time trying to get along -without one.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Flunked to-day, didn’t he?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Don’t know. He’s not in any of my classes.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>By favor of chance, Dunn did not flunk. He -was called up in Latin on grammar questions -which he happened to know. Hardie did not -escape so easily. His lot fell upon a difficult -passage which in his preparation he had not fully -understood. Confused by the new surroundings -and agitated by a nervous eagerness to do well, -he floundered along like a pig in the mud, getting -nowhere and accomplishing nothing but the -amusement of a cruelly grinning class.</p> - -<p class='c008'>To escape unscathed without having prepared -a lesson was, of course, a piece of good fortune -which a boy could not expect to experience often. -Before the week was out, Dunn had been pretty -well gauged by his teachers, and one of the most -conscientious had already begun in the simple -old-fashioned way—which Dunn reviled as antiquated—to -detain him after school to make up -neglected work. But what he lost in prestige -by classroom deficiencies—boys never charge such -failures up against a good comrade—he made -ample amends for by marked success on the football -field, where he was generally regarded as -the most promising addition to the available -material which the new season had brought.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Here Dunn’s own lively tongue had prepared -for him a favorable reception. While he did not -actually declare himself a great player, his ready -vocabulary of football terms, his anecdotes of -games which he had seen or taken part in, the -air of familiarity with styles of play which he -showed—all marked him as a veteran. Besides -this, he was an end, and the eleven lacked -an end. With Harrison, the captain, at one -extremity of the line and Dunn at the other, the -two important wings of the fighting force would -be well equipped. The idea pleased the school -fancy and produced a strong prejudice in Dunn’s -favor. The boys believed in him because they -needed him, and it was more agreeable to believe -than to doubt.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The first week’s work on the football field, as -every one knows, is largely concerned with the -individual elements of the game,—tackling, -dropping on the ball, running down under punts, -charging. Through these Dunn’s self-confidence -and previous experience carried him with flying -colors. He threw himself on the ball with admirable -spirit; and the way in which he scampered -down the field after punts, getting the direction -of the kick by a single, quick, accurate glance -over his shoulder, and fairly hugging the waiting -receiver, was a joy to the beholder. In open -work he was not quite so successful. He missed -a few hard tackles, but he made some good ones, -and the balance remained in his favor. Talbot -was so malevolent as to remark that Dunn got -the smaller fellows and let the big ones by, but -Talbot was from aye a surly growler. The opinion -which Dunn himself delivered in the dressing -rooms after the first tackling practice found by -far the wider acceptance.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Nobody can tackle in the open in cold blood,” -he averred. “A fellow might get his man every -time in a game when he feels the excitement and -forgets everything but the play, and yet miss -every tackle when you put him out to show what -he can do. There was a half-back we had in school -who afterwards made the Dartmouth eleven; -he couldn’t make one out of a dozen of those -practice tackles. They’re dangerous, too. If I -was a coach, I’d cut ’em out altogether.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>After the middle of the week there were short -line-ups in which Dunn played left end. Behind -him was all the superior weight and prestige of -the first backs, and before him as opposing tackle -only “Skinny” Fairbanks, who had barely made -the third the year before. Dunn’s work here was -of the lively, striking kind that sets partial spectators -agog with delight. He shoved Fairbanks -back for holes as if Fairbanks were a dummy. -When the ball by way of variety was given to -the second, he lay outside like a keen-eyed bird -of prey and fell upon the fearful seconders with -a sudden, calamitous swoop. Hardie stood on -the side-lines the day before the first real game, -and reproached himself for a feeling of envy. -Apparently he and Dunn had started fair in school -but a few days before, and now Dunn was leagues -beyond him. He felt inclined to send word to -the dilatory outfitter that he shouldn’t want any -football clothes at all.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Then on the first Saturday came the game with -the Suffolk school, which Newbury had just -soundly beaten. It was a discouraging contest -that took the fire out of the hearts of the players -and set the school to jesting about the team. -Westcott’s won in the last five minutes through -a long run by Harrison, who got the ball on a -fumble and carried it half the length of the field; -but the record of six to nothing looked very small -alongside of Newbury’s twenty-six to eight. -The plan of the coach had been to push the attack -generally through the left side of the line behind -Eaton and Dunn; and when Suffolk had the -ball to concentrate the secondary defence behind -centre and right, leaving the strong wing to make -its own resistance. The scheme did not work, -and after much waste of time was abandoned. -Holes did not develop where they were expected, -and Suffolk pounded the left with great success. -The fault was not easy to place. Dunn seemed -so devoted to playing a safe outside that he rarely -got into the path of the Suffolk runner; and the -Suffolk right, it was generally conceded, had been -greatly strengthened since the Newbury game. -Two bad fumbles that lost Westcott the ball at -critical moments were charged against Horr, the -half-back.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You could have saved us the ball both times -if you’d only dropped quick enough!” Talbot -remarked with undisguised frankness to Dunn, -as the team walked moodily into the dressing -rooms after the game.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I couldn’t, really!” protested Dunn. “Once -some one piled into me just as I was going -to drop, and the other time I tried to pick -it up because I had a clear field, and my -foot slipped. It was the correct thing to do, -wasn’t it, Harry?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I didn’t see,” answered the captain. “I -thought you might have got Jefferson, though, -on that crisscross.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The end blocked me off just as I was going -to tackle. Eaton really ought to have taken -him.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s your business not to be blocked off!” -snapped Talbot.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Shut up, Pete!” called the captain. “What’s -the good of kicking now? None of us played -well.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“My playing was rotten, I know,” rejoined the -pessimist, “but I don’t shirk the responsibility -for it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It takes time for a team to get shaken -together,” said Dunn. “We’ll all do better when -we’ve had more practice.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn’s remark showed a forgiving and conciliatory -spirit that by all the rules of story-book -morality should have extracted from a contrite -Talbot an apology; but the surly half-back went -his way unappeased.</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch04' class='c006'>CHAPTER IV <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>RECRUITS FOR THE FOOTBALL SQUAD</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>On</span> the following Tuesday—the day of the -imposing appearance before the school of President -John Smith—Hardie, having at last secured -his playing clothes, presented himself on -the field. His arrival aroused no very flattering -comment, partly because nothing in particular -was expected from him, partly because of the -company in which he came. Saturday’s disappointment -had caused a flurry of energy on -the part of the football leaders, and the school -had been sifted anew for material. As a result -Fat Bumpus was strained out, and little -McDowell, who, though lithe and sinewy as an -alley tomcat, and eager as a hound tugging at the -leash, was manifestly below the standard of -weight. He came via the third team, on which -he had distinguished himself in the game with -Wood’s third, played on the Saturday on which -the first had failed so conspicuously at Suffolk. -These three, Bumpus the fat, McDowell the small, -and Hardie the unpretending, formed the last -group of recruits available to reënforce the battle -line of Westcott’s.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The side-line comments would have been sufficient -to put all three to speedy flight, if the contemptuous -words had reached their ears. Stover, -the ball player, stood with Hargraves who didn’t -like football and Reeves whose forte was dancing -and “fussing,” and made very merry over the -faults of their schoolmates, dwelling with unwearied -if not brilliant wit on the appearance of -the newcomers, and enjoying the audience of -gaping small boys who surrounded them.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They ought to tie a string to it and give Fatty -the end,” said Stover, as Bumpus groped sprawling -after the ball which Harrison had rolled toward -him. “It’s cruelty to animals to make him -root around like that.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The best way would be to put him sideways -in the line on his hands and knees. No one could -get past him then,” remarked Reeves.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They’d have to call time to get him up again.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Did you see that?” broke in Hargraves. -“Hardie got the ball at the first try!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It must have been an accident; he hasn’t -sand enough in him to do it purposely.” This -was Stover’s opinion.</p> - -<p class='c008'>A furious but futile charge on the part of -Marshall, a clumsy but energetic hanger-on of -the second, drew the fire of the trio. “That’s -the spirit!” chuckled Hargraves. “Dig up the -dirt with your face, my boy! Football is the -game!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“There goes Mac!” cried a shrill voice close -at hand.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“McDowell the infant wonder,” commented -Stover, as the boy dropped sharply and cleanly -on the ball, falling along knee, thigh, and hip, -in one continuous and perfectly easy motion.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What’s the sense in wasting time on a kid like -him?” muttered Reeves. “Firman of Newbury -would carry half a dozen of him on his back.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The coach evidently had his own views as to the -usefulness of McDowell, for he made the boy repeat -his performance several times to show the less -skilful how the trick should be done. Meantime -Talbot, who was catching punts, drew over near -the criticising group, and the comments became less -audible. As regards side-line ridicule, Talbot -held forcible opinions which he had no hesitation -in expressing nor reluctance to defend. The trio -moved farther down the line, and their wit flowed -anew.</p> - -<div id='i047' class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i047.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic002'> -<p>“<span class='sc'>They ought to tie a string to it and give Fatty the end.</span>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>All three of the newcomers got into the line-up -of the second that afternoon. Bumpus thrashed -about with more uproar than success at guard, -while McDowell and Hardie were placed at right -end and right tackle respectively. Harrison gave -them a general exhortation to “play sharp now,” -and Talbot urged Hardie in specific terms to -“get right into Dunn.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You can manage him all right, if you stand -right up to him,” he said. “Forget everything -but the play!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Hardie nodded gratefully. He felt no fear, -nor was he by any means new to football, but he -was conscious that the school did not expect -much of him, and the personal interest of an important -fellow like Talbot was, therefore, especially -gratifying. In the big athletic school from which -he had come to Boston, he had learned to think -modestly of his prowess. While he had made -his class eleven there, the school team lay beyond -all reasonable hope. It was not easy for him to -think of himself as ‘varsity material, even at -Westcott’s!</p> - -<p class='c008'>Talbot kicked off, the ball sailing over Roger’s -head down into McDowell’s territory. Lingering -long enough to see the boy gather in the ball -and tuck it safely under his arm, Hardie ran -forward at three-fourths speed to take the first -onset of the school linesmen and permit Mac to -slip by. The first comer was Dunn, who caromed -off Roger’s shoulder without so much as touching -the runner. Eaton, the left tackle of the first, -McDowell dodged by an abrupt stop and a dart -outside; and beyond Eaton again, Hardie was -at his side to take Channing, the right guard. -The two disentangled themselves and followed -after as McDowell zigzagged on, emerging from -between Lowe’s hands and leaving Talbot on the -ground behind him. Sumner, the quarter-back, -at last drove him outside at the forty-yard -line.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The coach carried the ball in and put it down -for the scrimmage, first giving the little end a -deserved compliment, and then scoring the first -severely for careless tackling. The glory of the -second faded quickly. The quarter fumbled -and lost a yard. Bumpus let Eaton through -on the waiting half; the third down was followed -by a feeble punt which Sumner ran back twenty -yards. Then came a quick reversal. The first -had the men and the signals. The ball was pushed -rapidly through the centre, through the right -side, again through the centre and again through -right. At a new signal Hardie caught a change of -expression in Dunn’s face, and knew that his own -turn had come.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Look out, Mac!” he shouted, and leaped for -his opening with the first movement of the ball. -Dunn held him but an instant; with a side buffet -of the open hand the new tackle slipped by, -ruined the interference, and drove the convoy -straight into Mac’s sure grip.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“This feels like it again,” Roger said to himself -as he took his place once more. “They’re -not up to a Hillbury class team after all.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Whose fault was that?” demanded the coach.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Mine!” said Talbot, shortly.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Hardie looked in wonder over at the friendly -half-back. It wasn’t Talbot’s fault, or at least -not primarily. Dunn had failed to block his -man, Talbot only to make his protection wholly -effective—a difficult task at best. The essential -weakness lay with Dunn.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Tackle and end must take care of the opposing -tackle,” said the coach. “Get down in front -of him, Dunn, spread your elbows, dive into him -with your shoulder, but <i>hold him</i>—you hear?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He started before the ball was snapped,” -pleaded Dunn.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Shut up! Play the game!” commanded Talbot. -“I said it was my fault.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>They bucked the centre once more, by way of -variety, and then made another trial of the left -side. Horr went ahead to push out the end, -and Talbot carried the ball. This time Dunn -made frantic efforts to hold his man by use of -body and arms without much regard for the rules -of the game; but Hardie, keeping him at arm’s -length, made a dash at the runner that staggered -him, and the line half-back laid him low. At -the third attempt Dunn and Eaton together contrived -to box the second tackle, and the play went -through, over the line half-back.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Adams, who feared overdoing at the beginning -of the season, cut into the coach’s programme -after the first had made two touch-downs, and -put an end to the practice. Bumpus limped in -like an exhausted dray-horse, sweating at every -pore. Stover and Hargraves hailed him as he -crossed the road to the dressing rooms.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How’d you like it, Bump?” asked Stover. -“You look warm.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You played a bully game,” said Hargraves.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Did I?” Bumpus gave them a glance of -suspicion. “It didn’t seem so.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It was great playing,” continued Stover. -“Going to keep it up?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Of course he is!” interrupted Harrison, as -he came up from behind. “Bump won’t go back -on the school as long as it needs him.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s right!” said Bumpus, beaming with -his whole red, swollen face. “I’m not stuck on -the game, but if you really think I’m any help, -I’ll come out till the end of things!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s the talk,” answered Harrison. “I -wish you fellows showed as good a spirit.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We’ve been trying to encourage him,” claimed -Hargraves. “What more do you want?” They -went off, snickering, to Stover’s automobile.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Inside the dressing rooms, boys shouted and -jested and laughed over their bathing and dressing. -Talbot leaned a smooched arm and a grimy paw -on the top of a locker, and smiled across at -Hardie.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’ve played football before.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Only on a class team at Hillbury.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s more than most of us have done. You -ought to make our team easily.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’d like to,” said Hardie, wistfully.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Ever play end?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s where I’ve always played.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“See here!” Talbot raised his eyes level with -his companion’s and gave him a square, direct -look. “We need just the kind of fellow you are, -but Harry doesn’t know it yet. You keep your -mouth shut, play for all that’s in you, try to do -what the coach tells you, and you’ll make the -team before the first league game. Understand?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“All right.” Talbot turned toward the door. -“Where’s that ’Lijah with the towels? He -hasn’t given me a clean one for two days.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>A sober-faced negro with close-cut side whiskers -appeared round the corner.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Aren’t you going to give me a clean towel, -Lije?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not ontil you pay me,” returned Elijah. “I -ain’t trustin’ nobody this year.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You old Shylock!” grumbled Talbot. “I’ve -only got five cents, and I want that for car-fare.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ll lend you a quarter,” proposed Hardie, -eagerly.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Thanks. He’s more generous than you are, -’Lijah. He’ll lend me a quarter, and you won’t -trust me for a towel.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He’s new here,” answered Elijah, solemnly, -as he handed over the clean towel and pocketed -the quarter. “If he’d lost as much by you fellows -as I have, he wouldn’t lend you a cent.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That pays for a week, now, Lije,” urged -Talbot. “Don’t forget!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I never forgets. It’s you that forgets;” -and the janitor went forth to seek other business -opportunities.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“A good fellow Lije is, but he’s too avaricious,” -commented Talbot, hurrying for the shower.</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch05' class='c006'>CHAPTER V <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>AT ADAMS’S</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>Half</span> an hour later, Roger Hardie was giving -the last tug to his necktie before a square of looking-glass -that still adhered to the end of the locker -tier near the window, and Talbot, swinging a -couple of books by a strap, lounged near. Eaton -was getting into his clothes a few feet distant, -bravely chanting away on a ragtime song in the -face of derisive comments from Wilmot, the -manager, who sat on the bench nursing a couple -of footballs. Farther down, Dunn’s tongue was -running wild before an audience of worthies of -uncertain intent, whose grins might denote either -innocent amusement or guile. Harrison was -minding his own business in his usual quiet -fashion.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s the second time my socks have disappeared!” -sputtered Dunn. “This is the worst -gang of thieves I ever got into. You couldn’t -keep a thing here if you had a steel vault and a -watchman.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’ve probably got ’em on,” suggested -Wilmot.</p> - -<p class='c008'>As Dunn had very little on, and was notably -bare as to feet, this suggestion could not have -been serious. He glanced down, none the less, -and earned thereby a unanimous jeer.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t see how you could lose them,” observed -Sumner. “They’re the most conspicuous things -in school. I recognized you by ’em this morning -a block away, before I could see your face.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh, you did!” was the best Dunn could do -in rejoinder.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I never saw anything like them but once,” -Wilmot observed thoughtfully. “A clown had -’em on in the circus. They seemed all right -there.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They cost two dollars, anyway!” ejaculated -Dunn, who was turning over football trousers -on the floor and kicking shoes into corners.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Tyrian purple always did come high,” Wilmot -said softly. “Aren’t you ready yet, Jim? This -excitement is getting on my nerves. I feel as if -there was an officer here with a search warrant. -Perhaps Lije took ’em, Dunn. He might use -’em for a necktie.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“If I could find the fellow who swiped ’em, -I’d use <i>him</i> for a necktie!” exploded Dunn. “It’s -a low-down trick to hide a man’s clothes. No one -but a kid would do it. You fellows belong with -the rubes who tie knots in shirts at the village -swimming-hole!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>This violent arraignment awoke new chuckles -of merriment. Dunn was becoming interesting.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s a good suggestion,” said Wilmot. -“Harrison might try that next time.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Shut up, Baldie, and get dressed!” admonished -Ben Tracy, in a low tone. “You’re playing -right into their hands. You don’t need the socks -to get to your room.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>At this advice, the wisdom of which he recognized, -Dunn smothered his indignation and -went on with his dressing in silence. The crowd, -perceiving that the fun was over, began to scatter. -Eaton put on his coat and turned to Wilmot. “All -ready, Steve! Come on, Pete!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’m going up to Hardie’s room for a while,” -said Talbot, who had been talking in the corner -with Roger.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Wilmot slid over toward the door. “There are -your socks on the bench, Dunn!” called Eaton.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I must have been sitting on them all the -time,” Wilmot explained contritely from the doorway. -“I felt something hot under me. Hope -I didn’t hurt them.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They seem all right, just as bright and sporty -as ever. Want ’em, Dunn?” Eaton held out -the lost socks toward their owner; but Dunn, -having definitely adopted a policy of indifference, -turned his back on his tormentors and continued -the conversation with Tracy as if he had lost all -interest in the object of dispute—in the end -taking possession of his property without let or -hindrance.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Talbot, having explained the point in physics -which was the nominal object of his call on Hardie, -sat by the window and talked about school affairs.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The trouble with our athletics is that we are -in a big city,” he said, “with lots of interesting -things to take up our time outside of school. -Then we’re mostly too young to be very serious -about anything. In the big schools like Hillbury -the fellows are older; and in the boarding-schools -they haven’t any outside attractions nor any -liberty, and there’s really nothing else to do but -play something.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You always have men on the college teams,” -remarked Roger.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh, they do well in college, but they’re more -mature then. Here there’s always a whole lot -of fooling going on such as you saw this afternoon. -You can’t change a fellow like Wilmot. -He’s an awfully nice chap, but he’s never serious, -and he spoils the atmosphere for the hard, -determined kind of work that makes good -teams.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Harrison seems serious enough,” said Hardie. -“I should think he’d make a mighty good captain.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s right! He’s about the best fellow -we’ve got. That’s the reason I had hopes of the -football, but it looks now as if it was going in -the same old way. If we could only win in football, -we could go to work with more courage on -the crew.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The crew is always good, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We seem to do better with rowing than anything -else. There’s no fooling there, I can tell -you. From the time you lift out the boat until -you put her away on the supports there isn’t a -minute wasted.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I should think it would be monotonous, just -pulling an oar with the same motion all the time. -Of course the race is exciting, but the training -must be terribly tiresome.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That shows you’ve never tried it,” answered -Talbot, laughing. “The race is hard and disagreeable -because you try to pull yourself completely -out, but the practice is fun all the time. We have -good coaching, and every day we try to get into -the swing a little better, and overcome some one -of our faults. Then the movement of the boat is -fine. You can’t imagine what a pleasure it is to -feel it going under you right—to know that there -is no check between strokes, that everybody is -getting away quick and sharp, and pulling just as -he ought to.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t understand,” returned Roger, “but -I’d like to try it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You must come out. You have the right -build for rowing.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Talbot glanced out at the window and waved -his hand at Tracy, who was crossing the yard to -the dormitory. “We’re a long way from that -yet,” he went on. “We might possibly beat Newbury -and Trowbridge in rowing, but we can’t get -the cup without football.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“There’s baseball,” suggested Roger.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No hope there. What can you expect with -a fellow like Stover running things? We never -were a baseball school, anyway. It’s the fellows -who play on the corner lots that make the baseball -players. Our fellows do too much sailing and -rowing and playing golf in the summer to have -time for baseball practice.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>He rose to leave. “Just go in hard on the -football, and don’t give up if you don’t get all the -credit you deserve. They have a way here of -starting with a team made up on paper and -keeping to it through the season; but it’s a -bad custom which I want to see broken. I -give Dunn about three weeks to talk himself -off the field. Then if you don’t get in, it’ll be -your own fault.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The door closed behind the first really sympathetic -visitor Roger Hardie had yet received. -He had been in school long enough to know that -the captain of the crew on the whole outranked -any other captain, and that Talbot, in spite of -his marked tendency to see the dark spots in the -future, and to be over-frank in his criticism, was -yet one of the steady-flowing springs of school -energy, respected perforce even by those who did -not like him. To have Talbot as a friend was to -be sure of a stout defender, if not of a persuasive -advocate.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Thrilled with gratitude for the attention shown -him, his ambition kindling into flame from the -spark of hope which Talbot had struck, Roger -resolved to show himself worthy of his patron’s -favor; he would make something of himself in -the school life for the honor of the boy who had -befriended him, if such a result lay within the -reach of hard work, or patience, or devotion. -That making something of himself in the school -life meant to him mainly achieving a success in -the school athletics, was but natural. We who -are older may rightly insist that there are other -ways of serving one’s school than by scoring -touch-downs or pulling on a winning crew; but a -boy cannot be expected to see life through the -spectacles of the aged. He must grow through -his own ideals, not those of his parents. If his -opinion as to the importance of athletics is a fallacy, -it is at least a far more wholesome one to -hold than many cherished by adults.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger held his head higher than usual as he -went downstairs to dinner, and in his plain but -not unintelligent face the look of stolidity had -given place to a brighter expression.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I was glad to see you playing to-day,” said -Mr. Adams, pleasantly. “It seemed to me that -you were starting in very well.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Thank you,” returned Roger, quietly.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Didn’t you say you hadn’t played before?” -asked Ben Tracy.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Hardie shook his head. “I didn’t mean to. -I’ve never played on a school team. At Hillbury -I played end on my class team in some of the -games.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s not bad,” said Louis, with respect. -“They have great class teams at those schools.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It isn’t like playing on a school team, though,” -offered Dunn. “You don’t have any great -responsibility.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The class feeling is pretty strong sometimes,” -replied Roger, “and the games are always -hard.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I liked the way you got into the play,” said -Mr. Adams. “The house ought to give a good -account of itself on the playground this year.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I couldn’t do anything at all to-day,” observed -Dunn. “I have to feel just right to do -myself credit. I didn’t sleep very well last -night.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Redfield exchanged a glance of intelligence with -Louis Tracy. They knew what had disturbed -Dunn’s slumbers,—the memory of a late lunch -in Number Six.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You must be careful about food and bed -hours if you want to be in good condition,” observed -Mr. Adams, apparently oblivious to the -exchange of messages. “It takes some self-control -to keep in training with a pocket full of -money.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’d like to have a chance to try it once,” -sighed Redfield, to whose mind the suggestion -of a pocket full of money conveyed the idea of a -continuously replenished supply. Much of his -allowance never reached his pocket at all; it -was spent in paying back bills.</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch06' class='c006'>CHAPTER VI <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>THE STORY OF JASON</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>Hardie’s</span> appearance on the football field -unquestionably raised him from the condition -of nonentity into which he had fallen, but it did -not materially help him to get into the charmed -circle of the initiate who occupied the social centre -of the school on a kind of ancestral tenure. He -felt himself an outsider, even more after Talbot -had shown him favor than before, for friendliness -on the part of one served only to emphasize the -lack of interest of others. It was not that he was -objectionable or disliked; his schoolmates were -merely content without him, seeing nothing in -the newcomer that commended him especially -to their notice. His mother’s name was not on -their mothers’ calling lists; he possessed no cousins -or near friends who knew their cousins or -friends; he lacked the ready tongue which creates -on short acquaintance a reputation for wit. He -had no special resources to enhance his attractiveness—no -fast auto waiting for him at the corner, -no shooting lodge in the marsh to which his -friends might be invited. He was just plain, -undistinguished, unvalued Hardie, a new boy -who lived at Adams’s and played tackle on the -second.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn still floated with the tide. Judgment -regarding him was still in a measure suspended, -but aside from Talbot, who was silent about him, -and Wilmot, who jollied him, the trend of opinion -was in his favor. As a prospective member of -the first eleven, he possessed prestige, and as a -good-natured loafer whose excuses and garrulity -were entertaining, he appealed to the indiscriminate -humor of the mob. But with one of the -smaller, though not altogether impotent, members -of the school, he early fell into conflict.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Mike” McKay was a red-headed, freckle-faced, -wing-eared urchin, filled to the brim with -activity and energy, who dominated the fifth -class. He lived at Adams’s, and held the proud -position of captain and half-back on the fourth -eleven. Mike was no lover of lessons, but they -constituted a part of his day, and with his natural -habit of putting into everything that he undertook -all the vim he possessed, he labored on them -devotedly until they were accomplished. Behind -Mike in the schoolroom sat Archibald Dunn. Dunn -lacked the zeal of his little neighbor; he could -endure about ten minutes of mental effort at a -stretch, after which his brain demanded rest. In -these intervals of rest he often refreshed himself -by slouching down in his seat and bracing his toes -against the chair in front of him, achieving, in -the meantime, some distraction by a languid survey -of the room. Mike, intent on the French sentences -which he was laboriously manufacturing, word -upon word, like a conscientious bricklayer, would -feel the tip of Dunn’s toe thrust into his exposed -haunch, and violently reacting, would make a -scrawl or drop a blot to disfigure the work of his -hands.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Expostulations served only to convert what -had at first been accidental into a deliberate and -repeated annoyance. Dunn had discovered a -diversion for the idle moments of brain recuperation.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Stung one day by this persecution, Mike turned -fiercely and attacked the exposed ankle of the -offender with his pen. A teacher, sharp-eyed -but not far-sighted, caught the boy in the act and -gave him long minutes after school. This result -appeared to Dunn exquisitely amusing; he -could hardly wait for the lunch hour to bring him -the opportunity of telling the story.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’d better let Mike alone,” said Ben Tracy. -“He’s a miniature fire-eater when he’s mad.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn sniffed contemptuously. “What do I -care for him? I could lick a couple of such little -fresh kids with one hand.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He seems to me a rather nice little chap,” -Redfield remarked.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That shows he isn’t,” answered Dunn. “You -never get things right.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Silenced by this blunt personality, which Dunn -would classify under the head of wit, Redfield -abandoned the conversation and devoted himself -to his luncheon. Bumpus came rolling in just -in season to hear Redfield’s remark and Dunn’s -rejoinder.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Who’s the nice little chap?” he asked, as he -removed one chair and took possession of the -territory belonging to two.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You!” sang out Wilmot, giving Bumpus a -slap as he tripped past to another table.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Bumpus beamed with joy, not at the jest, -which indeed was worn as smooth as a pebble in -a pot-hole, but at Wilmot’s cordial manner, and -at the intimacy suggested by the playful tap -on the shoulder. Word had gone out from Captain -Harrison that Bumpus was to be encouraged.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Captain Mike McKay,” explained Tracy. -“Dunn’s got him stung!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You don’t suppose I’m going to have him -jabbing pens into my legs, do you?” protested -Dunn, disappointed to be thrown upon his defence -when he had expected to be amusing.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Of course no one did suppose any such thing, -and the conversation zigzagged gayly off to distant -fields. Meantime Mike was temporarily allaying -his indignation by a brisk and noisy game of -indoor baseball in the playroom. Later on he -paid his penance with stoicism, working out half -his home arithmetic problems during the period -of his detention.</p> - -<p class='c008'>On the next day Mike endured two or three -toe thrusts with Christian forbearance. By -squeezing himself against his desk he could put -a neutral zone between his own person and the -convenient range of the prods. By this pretence -of retreat he tempted the enemy into an incautious -advance. To reach his prey in spite of bars, Dunn -slid farther down in his own seat, and bent his -foot around the chair back, so as to come within -striking distance.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Instantly the boy recognized his opportunity. -Seizing the foot with both his nimble hands, he -twisted off the shoe and passed it across the aisle to -a faithful clansman, who handed on the emblem of -victory to another, who as speedily got rid of it in -his turn. By the time Dunn recovered himself sufficiently -to demand its restoration, the whereabouts -of the shoe was actually unknown to the first plunderer. -It ultimately found its way, wrapped in a -page of a returned exercise, to the waste-basket.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The call to recitation broke in upon Dunn’s -efforts, greatly handicapped by the presence of a -teacher at the other end of the room, to make -clear to Pirate Mike the fate in store for him if the -shoe were not immediately returned to its owner. -The fifth Latin rose with cheerful readiness and -crowded to the door. Dunn fell in behind them, -though he had no recitation at that time, hoping -in the confusion to get his hand on his enemy. -Once out of sight of the room teacher, he pressed -on hotly, scattering the fifth like a flock of sheep, -and with an imprecation on his lips reached for -his quarry,—only to be met by the stern face of -Mr. Westcott as he emerged from his room at the -foot of the stairs.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn was questioned in the office in a most -unpleasant secret session, while the fifth in their -Latin room were forced to trace the route between -Mike’s desk and the waste-basket. When the -different stations on this underground railroad -were located, and the shoe was produced by the -boy who had consigned it to its last resting-place, -the guilty received the regular penalty for small -misdemeanors, and the Latin lesson took its usual -course.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn’s session was longer. He emerged with -a very red face, and sat with a book open before -him, staring angrily and unprofitably at its pages -for many minutes. He was very late for football -practice for several days after, on an excuse that -was evidently valid. This, however, might have -been but a passing experience, forgotten in a -fortnight, had not a heartless sally from Wilmot -perpetuated the memory of the unpleasantness and -given Mike a telling advantage over his bigger foe.</p> - -<p class='c008'>As was to be expected, Dunn had no history -lesson that morning. He never did compass more -than half a lesson, but to-day he was as ignorant -on the subject of Greek Oracles and Greek Colonization -as the Esquimau in his hut of ice on -the edge of No Man’s Land.</p> - -<p class='c008'>More than this, he showed himself distrait, and -totally impervious to the cleverly pointed shafts -with which Mr. Downs sought to pierce a way to -thick-crusted brains. The patient instructor, ignorant, -of course, of the disturbance of the morning, -and faithful to duty even under discouraging -circumstances, detained Dunn after the class was -dismissed for recess to admonish him of the evil -consequences of idleness and inattention. As a -result, Dunn arrived at the lunch room late, facing -with an uneasy and unnatural grin a full collection -of unsympathetic teases.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Jason!” cried Wilmot, loudly. “Beware of -the man with one shoe!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>About one first class boy in five understood -the reference, and this one was immediately besought -by his four ignorant companions to explain -the joke, for joke they were sure it must be. -Johnny Cable, the book-learned but otherwise -incapable, was in excessive demand for the next -few minutes to clear up the mystery. These few -minutes Dunn employed in strengthening his -defence of indifference and preparing himself for -the coming questions as to what Mr. Westcott had -said to him, and what he was going to do to Mike. -He answered the questions in very ambiguous -terms, but his threats against the chief agent in -his misfortunes were no less awful because of their -vagueness, while the grins of a dozen fifth class -boys at the long table opposite kept his wrath -at the boiling-point. Ben Tracy at last succeeded -in diverting the general interest to Redfield, who -had made a new record that morning in the smashing -of glass tubes in the laboratory.</p> - -<p class='c008'>But the fifth were not to be diverted. They -had no need of Cable’s learning to explain Wilmot’s -comparison. Having fought their way, line by -line, through sundry tales of Greek heroes presented -in simple Latin, they knew the stories from end to -end. “Jason Dunn!” they whispered ecstatically -to one another along the table. The names fitted -as if made to go together. No combination -could be better!</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We’ll call him Jason after this,” proposed -Dickie Sumner, Jack’s younger brother. “Nobody -can help saying it after he’s heard it -once.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>This suggestion was put into practice as soon -as the youngsters left the table. They gathered -at the door and sang out in chorus three times -before they scattered: “Jason Dunn! Jason -Dunn! What has Jason done?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Fresh little mutts!” exclaimed Tracy, in disgust. -“That’s the result of being tied up with -a kindergarten. Let’s go out and wring their -necks!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Don’t notice ’em,” said Wilmot. “They’ll -forget it to-morrow if you let ’em alone.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>But the title stuck. Before a week was out, the -name, Archie Dunn, or Baldie Dunn, ceased to be -heard on a boy’s lips. It had become Jason -Dunn.</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch07' class='c006'>CHAPTER VII <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>SUMNER CHOOSES A SUCCESSOR</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>The</span> first skirmish in the feud that was bound -to arise came on the following day at Adams’s, -when a group of fifth and sixth lads, thinking -themselves safe in the shadow of the dormitory, -sang out the new nickname derisively across -the field to Dunn. Dunn, who was still in a -state of irritation, and by no means ready, as -yet, to accept the inevitable nickname, made a -dash for the group, which broke into screaming -flight round the corner of the locker house. The -first lad whom Jason met as he rounded the -corner in full pursuit, was Mike, engaged in tossing -a football against the side of the building. -Without stopping to raise the question whether -Mike had been one of the offenders, Dunn proceeded -to the agreeable task of teaching the urchin -a lesson. The boy resisted with hands, feet, -voice, and teeth. The older fellows, hurrying -forth at the shrill cries for help, found Mike lying -on his back, like the arms of a hay -tedder, squirming to keep his antagonist at bay -and squawking like a hen in distress.</p> - -<div id='i077' class='figcenter id005'> -<img src='images/i077.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic002'> -<p><span class='sc'>His feet going like the arms of a hay tedder.</span></p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>The majority of the newcomers lined up in -good positions, to enjoy the amusement which -chance had thrown in their way; but Talbot, -who had seen the beginning of the incident from a -distance, pushed through the line, jerked the boy -to his feet, and commanded him to stop his -noise.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He knocked me down when I wasn’t doing a -thing!” screamed Mike, weeping more from rage -than because of any hurt which he had received. -“Let me get a stone, and I’ll kill him!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You won’t do anything of the sort,” said -Talbot, firmly. He turned to Dunn. “What’s -the row, anyway? What’s the use of pitching -into a little fellow like him?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’m not going to have him calling me names,” -said Dunn, defiantly. “He thinks because he’s -small he can be as fresh as he wants to, without -getting hurt.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I didn’t call him names,” sobbed Mike. “I -wasn’t doing a thing.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It wasn’t him,” offered Dickie Sumner, who -had been tempted back by all-compelling curiosity. -“He wasn’t with us at all.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Talbot turned and seized the rash youngster -by the arm. “So it was you, was it? Now, -look here! We aren’t going to have any calling -names or any other freshness from you young -kids round this place. If we catch you at it, -we’ll duck you under the cold-water faucet and -forbid you the grounds. Understand?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dickie understood. “All right,” he answered -faintly, and tried to pull away; but Talbot still -held him in a tight grip.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What do you say, Jack?” he added, turning -to Dick’s older brother, who shared with him the -responsibility for order on the grounds.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s right!” replied Jack Sumner, sacrificing -his fraternal obligation in the cause of justice -with surprising equanimity. “He’s a good one to -begin on.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Talbot released the youngster, who speedily -escaped from the circle of danger to join his confederates -over by the tennis courts, where they -discussed for a time in subdued voices the probability -that Pete meant business. They were soon -diverted by tag.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“All the same, Dunn is a fool to notice them,” -murmured Talbot in Hardie’s ear as they returned -to the locker room to finish their dressing.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t believe he can shake off the nickname, -now,” said Roger.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No, it’s branded in. He isn’t showing much -of the good-nature they talk about, is he?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>In fact, Dunn’s good-nature didn’t extend far -below the skin. It was a mannerism assumed to -win him the popularity which he craved. He was -vain, lazy, and characterless. In the football -field his fine physique, together with the professional -air with which he bore himself, for some -time blinded the eyes of critics to his shortcomings. -Yards, the coach, felt sure that something -could be made of a man of Dunn’s vigor and -apparent knowledge of the game. Yet a strong -player opposite him, or the grinding strain of an -uphill contest, invariably produced slackened -effort and excuses.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s come to be the weakest place in the team,” -said the coach, a few days before the Groton -game. “If we could brace up the left end and -quarter-back, we should have some hope of giving -Newbury a tussle.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Is Sumner so bad as all that?” asked Harrison, -disturbed. “I thought he was running the -play very well.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He runs the play well enough, but look at -the errors! He fumbles, muffs punts, misses -tackles. A quarter-back has no right to do -anything of the kind.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No one plays perfectly,” Harrison hastened -to offer in defence of his friend. “Besides, he’s -the only man we’ve got for the place.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Hardie is coming on well,” observed the -coach. “He’s going to push Ben Tracy pretty -hard for tackle. We might give him a trial at -quarter.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t think he’d do at all,” answered Harrison, -quickly. “He’d be entirely new to the -position, and we shall need him as a substitute -tackle before the season is over.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The coach considered for a time in silence. -Yards was a loyal Westcott graduate, whose devotion -to his school was strong enough to make -him sacrifice his afternoons at the Law School -for the sake of helping the Westcott team. He -knew the game well and could teach it, but he -lacked confidence in his own judgment of the -comparative merits of individuals, and he was -morbidly anxious to avoid the foolish jealousies -which he remembered as a source of weakness -to the school in his own day. It was clear that -Harrison’s heart was set on keeping Sumner in -his place. To insist on a change which would be -at best an experiment with an unknown quantity, -and which might give rise to factions, seemed at -present unwise.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We’ll give McDowell a chance on the end, -anyway,” he said, “and let Dunn rest.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>To this proposition Harrison assented eagerly, -and went hot foot to warn Sumner that he must -bestir himself if he wanted to keep his post.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Am I as bad as that?” asked Sumner, in consternation.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’re not bad, but you’ve got to be better.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>In place of replying, Sumner swung his sweater -to the other shoulder and gazed, a sober, startled -expression in his eyes, across the field. Harrison -stole a side glance at his friend’s face and -took his arm affectionately. “It’s all right, -Jack; don’t worry,” he said. “Just play your -best game, and I’ll stand back of you.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’re wrong there, Harry,” Jack said quietly. -“You’ve no right to stand back of me. My -playing has been rotten lately, and I know it. -I’m fumbling punts and missing tackles all the -time. If you’ve got some one else who can -do better, I won’t have you keep me on just -out of friendship.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’re talking rot,” returned Harrison, impatiently. -“Stubby Weldon is no use, as you -know perfectly well. There’s no one else.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Sumner breathed easier. “I’ll do better if I -can,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c008'>So McDowell went to Groton to play left end, -and Dunn was told to stay at home and rest. -He neither stayed at home nor rested. Stover -took him to the game with Hargraves and Reeves -in his flyer. He amused himself watching the -play incognito, and got back before the return -train delivered the weary, disheartened team at -the station in Boston.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Westcott’s fared ill at Groton. Sumner’s game -was worse than ever. McDowell strove like a -hero against men a whole head taller and many -pounds heavier, tackling fiercely and surely whenever -he got within striking distance of the ball; -but his opponents brushed his interference aside, -charged through him in the line and blocked him -off from the play almost at will. The score was -eighteen to nothing at the end of the first half.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I can’t do it!” groaned McDowell, as the -players tried to hearten each other during the -intermission. “I’m not big enough. Put Hardie -in.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>As Dunn was out, there was nothing else to do. -Hardie went in at left end, and fat Bumpus, -who had lost in weight but gained in muscle and -wind by his patriotic exertions on the field, relieved -Kimball at guard. The team sallied forth -once more, crestfallen but determined.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Groton got the ball on Talbot’s kick-off, and -tried the old trick of circling Westcott’s left end, -but Hardie could not be disposed of, and the play -came to grief. They bucked the centre, only to -find big Bumpus sprawling effectually in the path. -A forward pass found its way into Horr’s hands. -Then Sumner gave the ball to Talbot, who discovered -a hole where McDowell had failed to -make one. Encouraged, he repeated the play -and made the first down. A lucky forward pass -which, to his great delight, fell into Hardie’s hands, -saved Westcott’s at the next third down, and -carried the ball to the centre of the field. Twenty -yards farther they pressed, and then Talbot -was forced to kick. Groton started on a return -journey, which proved to be slow and frequently -interrupted. A fumble by Westcott’s before the -goal posts gave the home eleven the only score -which they made during the second half.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger Hardie felt very happy as he took his -seat in the barge with his mates to drive to the -station, for he knew, without regard to the compliments -paid him by his polite opponents, that -his chance had come and he had not missed it.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The leaders, however, were in no exultant mood. -Twenty-three to nothing is a big score for a coach -and captain to swallow, especially when it is clear -that two-thirds of it is due to avoidable errors. -On the train Mr. Adams, who had accompanied -the team, sat with Yards, Harrison, and Talbot -in a double seat, and tried to point out signs of -hope for the future in the day’s disaster.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I should like to suggest two changes,” he -said at length, “which may help the team. One -I think you will accept. The other I have my -doubts about.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The trio looked at him expectantly. “Hardie -should play regularly at left end,” went on the -teacher. “His work to-day was almost equal to -Harrison’s.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Better, sir!” said Harrison, quickly. “We -accept that suggestion on the spot, don’t we, -Yards?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Yards nodded. “We ought to have had him -there before. What’s the other suggestion,—Bumpus?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No. Bumpus can take care of himself. I -want to propose that you try McDowell at quarter. -He’s out of place in the line, but he’s a good tackler, -catches punts well, and has a good head.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Talbot looked at Yards, and Yards looked at -Harrison, who pressed his lips together and looked -at no one. There was an interval of silence.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t see why he should be any better than -Sumner!” said the captain, defiantly.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t see how he could be any worse!” -ejaculated Talbot.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t urge it,” said Mr. Adams, kindly. -“I merely suggest it for consideration.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He couldn’t run the game as Jack does,” -said Harrison.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He could save touch-downs as Jack doesn’t,” -asserted Talbot. “I think as much of Jack as -you do, but my thinking a lot of him can’t make -him play well.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He has been on the team all the season. It -is hard to put him off now.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No one stays on the crew because he’s been on -all the season—I’ll tell you that in advance!” -blurted Pete, savagely. “I’ll fire myself if there -are four better men.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Harrison smiled faintly. “It’s easy to say that -now. Wait till spring.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Sh! Here he comes,” exclaimed Yards, speaking -for the first time. “We’ll think it over during -the night.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Sumner came oscillating down the aisle from -the seat which he had occupied, dismally brooding -alone, during half the journey. He stopped -at the end of the double seat and addressed Harrison, -but his gaze, as he spoke, wandered uneasily -away over the captain’s head; while his flushed -cheek and hurried tones betrayed the strain under -which he had been laboring.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ve been thinking the thing all over,” he -began, “and I see perfectly plainly what’s the -right thing to do. I’ve gone to the bad in my -play. I know it as well as anybody. I want you -to put little Mac into my place at quarter and give -him a good, fair show to prove what he can do. -He’s no good in the line because he’s so light, -but he tackles like a little fiend in the open, and -he can catch anything that can be kicked. I -could tell him all he doesn’t know about signals -and plays in twenty minutes. I believe the -change would give the team a new start.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“By Jove, you’re the stuff, Jack!” cried Talbot, -as he clutched his friend’s hand and gave it a wring. -“If we win anything this year, that’s the spirit that’ll -bring it. There’s something in a name, after all.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Give McDowell the place and wrest it back -from him,” suggested Mr. Adams, who felt the -tension of the scene.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I shan’t wrest it back, if he has a fair show, -sir,” answered Sumner, with a melancholy laugh.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We’ll try him, then,” concluded Harrison; -“shan’t we, Yards?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Yards acquiesced with a vast sense of relief. -He had already determined on this very change, -though how he was to bring it about had greatly -perplexed him. Sumner’s magnanimity relieved -him of all anxiety.</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch08' class='c006'>CHAPTER VIII <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>A SLIGHTED OFFER</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>Only</span> a week remained before the first league -game—that with Newbury. Having already -had experience in the position, and being a lad -who used his eyes and ears more than his lips, -Hardie needed very little coaching to fit well into -the game at left end. Though he lacked Harrison’s -sureness in play, as well as the instinctive -readiness in translating signals into action which -is to be expected of one who has practiced long -in a single position, he was better than Harrison -in making holes and quite as fast in getting down -the field. Each showed a fine keenness of scent -after the ball in the enemy’s hands; each was -master of the art which belongs especially to a -good end, of appearing where he is most useful, -and not somewhere else. Deprived of the support -of the first team and handicapped by the -weakness of the second, Dunn made an inconspicuous -figure in the practice. When on the first, -he had at times, under favorable conditions, -shown effective dash and vigor; degraded to the -second, he became sulky and listless. Little -remained of the aggressiveness of the early days -but a chronic ugliness which manifested itself -in fault-finding and in the practice of certain -mean tricks which he had learned at a former -school.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Sumner’s conduct stood out in strong contrast. -Having undertaken to furnish the school a quarter-back -better than himself, he pushed his sacrifice -to its full limit. He drilled Mac in signals, -schooled him in receiving and passing—a part -of the play in which Sumner himself excelled—and -put him in possession, as far as was possible, -of such facts respecting likely plays and dangers -to be avoided as his own experience had furnished. -Harrison immediately made him captain -of the second eleven, and in this capacity -he went energetically to work to build up a team -which should give the first the best possible -practice. By this course, it is safe to say, he -gained more respect among the boys whose -opinion was worth having than if he had kept his -place and won a game. When kid-brother Dick, -who, imp-like, found amusement in his elder’s -misfortune, referred slightingly to Jack as having -been “fired,” Mike McKay threatened to lick -him on the spot.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’re a big fool, Dick Sumner, or you’d -know that it’s a lot harder thing to get off a team -of your own accord when you’re on it, than to get -put on when you’re off. I’d be proud of him -if he was my brother. Besides, he’ll get back.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The team’s playing a lot better since he’s -off; everybody says so,” answered Dick, bound to -maintain his position, yet secretly pleased at this -authoritative recognition of his brother’s merits.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It isn’t because he’s off, it’s because Jason -Dunn’s off. He never was any good. I knew it -all the time. He’s afraid of any fellow his size.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dick had nothing to say in favor of Jason -Dunn, so he took another tack.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Newbury’ll beat ’em anyway, so what difference -does it make?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It may make a lot of difference,” answered -the oracle of the fifth. “Newbury may beat us, -and they may not. If big Bumpus doesn’t bust, -we’re going to have a solid line, and the ends are -great! It’ll be a corking game all right, whichever -wins. And you don’t want to go around -saying we’re going to be licked!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t say it to anybody but you,” Dick -interposed hastily.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You don’t want to say it to any one,” continued -Mike, with a severity quite judicial. “Just -try to make everybody think we’re going to -win. You know how Phillips had us all scared -when the fourth played Suffolk, with his talk -about how big and strong they were, and how we -couldn’t possibly down ’em, and all that, till we -lost our nerve and almost let ’em beat us?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dick remembered.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s the same with the big team; they’ve got -to be encouraged. Harrison deserves it, too, for -firing Jason.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>This principle Mike had an opportunity to put -into practice the next morning when he passed -a knot of older boys gathered at the corner of -the school building, where they waited for the -nine o’clock bell to ring and meantime swapped -news and jokes and covertly watched the girls -who by twos and threes and fours passed on the -other side of the street on the way to Miss Wheeler’s -school. Eaton reached out and seized the boy -by the shoulder. “Ticket for the game?” he demanded.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Got one,” said Mike, coolly, shaking himself -free.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What do you say, Mike,” asked Wilmot; -“are we going to beat Newbury?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Sure thing, only they’ve got to get those -forward passes down better.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Do you hear that?” called Wilmot, as the -boy trotted away. “Mike says we’re going to -win. That settles it. No use to practice any -more. It’s all up with Newbury.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He’s trying to make us win; that’s more than -can be said of you,” spoke Talbot, disapprovingly.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What’s the matter with me?” protested Wilmot. -“Don’t I spend half my time tagging round -after you fellows as manager?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“A bum manager!” grumbled Horr. “Where -are those W sweaters?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Mike is doing his little best to build up a -school sentiment behind us,” continued Talbot, -“and you—well, you’re laughing at us most -of the time. Mike knows what he’s talking about, -too, when it comes to football.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Wilmot assumed an indignant manner. -“That’s a base libel. I’m trying to keep you -from being over-confident.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The bell rang and the group began to move. -“I’d like to see a few signs of over-confidence,” -said Harrison. “Everything seems to me to -be going the other way.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>For the mid-week practice Yards brought out -a team of Westcott graduates from college, who -could furnish to the reorganized school eleven -something sturdy on which to try their plays. -Mac ran his game with few errors and handled -punts like a veteran; the ends got three out of -four forward passes; Bumpus wrestled valiantly -against a big sophomore in the line, puffing and -blowing and perspiring, but fully holding his -own. The result was in the main encouraging.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn stood on the side-lines, dressed for play -and ready to be called in if necessary. While -he waited and observed the game, jesting aloud -with Stover to show the bystanders how little -his spirits were affected by his retirement from -the team, Dunn noticed a stoutly built, showily -dressed man, with a square face darkened by a -heavy, close-shaven beard, who, while following -the play, seemed at the same time to be interested -in the conversation around him. Presently -the stranger, having apparently made inquiries -concerning Dunn from some of the smaller boys, -called him aside and talked with him a few minutes -out of earshot of the spectators. At the close of -the conversation he put a slip of paper into Dunn’s -hand and disappeared.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Some time later, as Harrison trotted from the -field across toward the locker house, he passed -Stover and Dunn going in the same direction.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What do you think of Bumpus now?” he -called over his shoulder as he went by.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You can make a football player out of ’most -any fat old thing,” returned Stover. “It’s different -in baseball. I say, stop a minute, Harry!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Harrison turned round. “What is it?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We want to see you as soon as you get dressed -about something important, very important! -We’ll give you fifteen minutes.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Before the allotted time was up, the captain -emerged from the locker house, pulling on his -coat as he came. Dunn followed him. Stover -drew them both into a corner. “Do you know -Jake Callahan?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The Newbury coach? I know who he is.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He isn’t coach any longer, they’ve fired him,” -said Stover. “He was here this afternoon for -a little while watching the game. He picked -Jason out of the crowd and made him a proposition. -Go ahead, Jason!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He’s terribly sore on Newbury because they -haven’t treated him right,” explained Dunn, eagerly. -“He says he can let us have the diagrams -of all their best plays and the signals for ’em. -He doesn’t mean to sell ’em, he’s just going to -give ’em to us; but all the same if they help us, -and we <i>want</i> to make him up a purse of a few -dollars on the quiet, he’ll take it. He left his -address with me.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Harrison looked from one face to the other, -but said nothing.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You see, if you had the signals,” continued -Dunn, “and knew what the play was going to -be, you could stop ’em wherever you wanted to. -Of course you wouldn’t want to do it too often, -or you’d give yourselves away. It might be better -to let only four or five good fellows in on the -thing, and then there wouldn’t be so much danger -of getting caught at it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We could raise ten or twenty dollars for -Callahan among a few fellows who’d keep their -mouths shut,” said Stover. “I’ll attend to -that. Yards needn’t know a thing about it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Do you think it’s quite—honorable?” asked -Harrison, hesitatingly. He needed no lessons -from either Stover or Dunn to appreciate the -advantages to be derived from knowing an opponent’s -signals.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Stover grinned. “Honorable? Sure! Why -not? Ain’t it their business to have signals we -can’t discover? Wouldn’t you play for the right -side if some one came and told you the Newbury -right tackle was weak? Don’t we always try to -find out what kind of a ball a batter can’t hit?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The cases aren’t similar,” returned Harrison.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“There’s no use in arguing about it,” said -Stover. “It’s nothing to me. We give you a -chance to get the game. You can take it or leave -it. I thought you wanted to win.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Wanted to win! Was there anything Harrison -at that moment wanted more? He looked -up and caught sight of Talbot and Hardie sauntering -past the corner on their way to Hardie’s -room. “Here’s Pete,” said the captain; -“let’s see what he says.” And before the emissaries -of the disgruntled coach could interpose -an objection, he had called the pair over and -was bidding Dunn repeat Callahan’s offer.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn obeyed with alacrity, happy in the conviction -that by the service which he was now -rendering, he was taking a long step forward to -the recovery of his lost popularity. As he spoke, -growing more and more eager in the unfolding -of the advantages to be gained and the best -method of using the new information, Hardie -dropped his gaze to the ground, where he kicked -away impatiently at a stubby tuft of grass, -while Talbot held his eyes fixed on the narrator’s -face, his cheeks darkening and swelling with rising -emotion. Slowly Dunn became aware that the -impression which he was making was not the one -intended. His eloquence wavered; his speech -dwindled to an abrupt and confused end.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, what do you think of it, Pete?” asked -Harrison, quietly, swinging round upon his friend.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I think it would be a dirty, mean trick!” -Talbot burst out in wrathful staccato. “A -hundred victories couldn’t wipe out the disgrace -of it!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s just my opinion,” declared Harrison. -“As you have the man’s address, Dunn, you’d -better write him what we think of his offer.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Harrison turned back into the locker house; -Talbot and Hardie went off toward the dormitory. -Stover watched the retreating figures for a few -seconds in silence, then emitted a loud, mocking -laugh.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Have it your own way, you angels, you nice -boys, and get slaughtered,” exclaimed Dunn, in -deep disgust. “I’m through with the thing.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>He crumpled the envelope on which was written -Callahan’s address and threw it on the ground. -Several minutes later, when the coast was clear, -a strange boy who had been watching from the -outer fence, strolled across the yard, picked up -the twisted scrap of paper, and thrust it into his -pocket.</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch09' class='c006'>CHAPTER IX <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>THE NEWBURY GAME</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>Stover</span>, whisking home in his automobile, -turned the incident over in his mind, and decided -that he would say nothing about it,—if the others -didn’t,—at least until after the game. The fellows -in the influential set at Westcott’s were -terribly sensitive about points of honor, and it -was hardly worth while to risk position by running -counter to the general sentiment in a matter -which really didn’t concern him at all. After -they’d lost the game, they might think more -highly of his advice.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Stover himself was firmly imbued with the -notion that winning is the sole test, and reason for -existence, of an athletic team. If a team couldn’t -win, in his opinion it might as well disband; -there was no sense in keeping it up. These -views he held directly from his father, by example -and precept. Stover, Senior, prided himself -on “getting there” in business. Those -who didn’t get there, who got only halfway -there, or refused to sacrifice certain principles -in order to get there, were in his eyes flabby -failures. Protests represented but the inevitable -wails of the defeated, criticism the expression of -envy; the man who won could afford to laugh at -both. Stover, Junior, accepting fully the idea -that defeat was inherently disgraceful, applied it -to his own life in his own way. He was ashamed -to be on a losing team. Low marks in examinations -put him sadly out of humor, for they classed -him with the despised unsuccessful. For the -same reason, notwithstanding a bold air of indifference, -it irked him sorely that he was not -popular.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn likewise came to recognize that he had -made a misstep. He said to Harrison next morning, -“I guess you fellows were right about that -Callahan matter; it wouldn’t have done much -good, anyway.” Harrison, glad to perceive that -Dunn understood the falseness of his position, -answered pleasantly, and let the incident slip -from his mind. He found enough material for -anxiety in the problem of Talbot’s strained knee, -the perfecting of Mac in the use of signals, and the -elaboration of a new scheme for a forward pass -from a fake kick.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Callahan’s offer cropped up again on Friday -night, as Wilmot and Harrison sat in Pete’s -bedroom, drawing out a long good night. The -pair had brought in a rubber to work on the injured -knee, distrusting Pete’s fiercely repeated -assertion, “It’s all right and doesn’t need any -rubbing.” Determined to see that their trouble -was not taken in vain, they stayed on during the -process, in the face of rudely inhospitable suggestions -from Talbot that they go home and let -him alone. They lingered still after the masseur -had departed.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Anything new about Jason’s friend, the -coach?” asked Wilmot, making a try with his -cap at the top of a brass candlestick which stood -on the mantel. The cap fell short, and Talbot -put his foot on it. Wilmot flung himself back in -his chair.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What coach?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The one that blew in at Adams’s the other -day and offered to sell state secrets. Harrigan -or Cullinan or Hooligan—I don’t remember -his name.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The look of disgust on Harrison’s face showed -that he understood. “I don’t know. I hadn’t -thought of him since.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I wonder if Jason wrote him,” mused Wilmot. -“You ought to have given me the job, Harry. I’d -have done it in slick style.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Harrison shook his head. “It would be taking -too much notice of him. Jason came up -next day and acknowledged that it was all -wrong. I don’t think he did anything more -about it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Jason doesn’t know right from wrong, anyway,” -observed Wilmot.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You could say that of some others I know,” -interposed Talbot, with a significant emphasis. -Wilmot, however, showed no curiosity to learn -who these others might be.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Why can’t you get the other fellows’ signals -right in the game?” he proposed, suddenly alert. -“Four-eleven-forty-four!—right half-back outside -left tackle. Two-eleven-twenty-three-six-million-and-six!—right -half-back crawls between -centre’s legs. Deduction: right half-back is -eleven. Keep this up through the game, and -you’ll have the whole system. You win by mental -superiority—solve cryptograms on the run. -Sherlock Holmes applied to football!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Talbot smiled with complacent contempt. -“That shows how much you know about football. -You’re in the class with the person who wrote -a football story that I read once in a weekly paper. -The two elevens played the game, and after it was -over and the one team had beaten the other, it -was discovered that some one on the winning team -had broken training before the game. The winners, -therefore, forfeited the game to the losers.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No, seriously,” insisted Wilmot, “why couldn’t -it be done?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Because it takes all your attention to play -your game,” said Pete. “You can’t be puzzling -out conundrums when you’re watching with all -your soul to see the ball move. I suppose you’d -have us call time to rub a leg, and sit down with -a pencil and figure the thing out.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No, not that, but I should think a few of the -old hands like you and Harry and Jimmy Eaton, -and quick wits like McDowell—”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“McDowell stands ’way back on the defence, -you idiot!” interrupted Pete. “He can’t even -hear the other team’s signals!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Like somebody else, then,” continued Wilmot, -unabashed by the compliment. “I should think -a few fellows might each get a hint, and then all -together would have enough to amount to something. -What do you say, Harry?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s possible, but not worth while,” answered -Harrison. “You’d lose in trying to do it more -than you could gain by anything you could find -out. The best way is to play a hard, safe game -and be ready for whatever happens along. Come -on, I want to go to bed!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The school turned out in force for the game. -Though hidden within lay the expectation of defeat, -the older boys were assured that the team -had a chance, and gathered gladly, the gambler’s -hope in their hearts. To the younger ones the -spectacle was in itself all-attractive, to say nothing -of the joy of sharing the new responsibility of -supporting a team which belonged to them. If -some, in ignorance of their privilege, needed persuasion, -there was Mike McKay to furnish it, -through the potent influence of himself and his -crowd. Two urchins of the sixth, who had guilelessly -announced their intention of seeing the Harvard-Dartmouth -game instead, were threatened -by Mike with excommunication; he would cut -them off, from that time on, from all help on -lessons from their classmates, unless they performed -their duty. They were ready in their -places. Papas and mammas were there, everybody’s -sister and her girl friends; and swarms -of recent graduates from across the Charles, -vigorous aids to school cheer-leaders and stayers-up -of faint hearts. An extended line of autos -was stalled along the fence. Nor were the Newburyites -behind in the demonstration. It was -confidence (a stronger force than hope) that -swelled their numbers and gave vigor to their -voices.</p> - -<p class='c008'>But the proudest, most important, most conspicuous -figure was that of President John Smith. -Increased in height by a brown derby, swelled in -girth by a fat fur coat,—he had meant that the -day should be cool,—with an alderman and two -newspaper reporters in his train and the officials -of the game his employees, he paced to and fro -within the side-lines and enjoyed his greatness -and the greatness of the day. Only a badge was -lacking to complete happiness. In the reporters -he had two friends on whose helpful services he -could count. Alderman Skillen was a political -power in President John’s district, with a son on -the Newbury team. If only young Skillen would -distinguish himself; if only Westcott’s would put -up a stiff but not victorious game; if only the -reporters could give the right turn to their laudatory -phrases, and the alderman be properly impressed -with the power and the influence and the -potential value of the mainspring of it all,—the -day might well mark the beginning of a strong -upward twist in the life curve of John Smith. -The suspicion whispered into his ear that morning -by the Newbury captain that the renegade coach -might have betrayed the game to Westcott’s -had not so much as ruffled the surface of his -optimism.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The game began. Hexam, the Newbury half-back, -drove the ball on the kick-off down into -the hands of Mac,<a id='r1' /><a href='#f1' class='c011'><sup>[1]</sup></a> who clutched it tight, and with -his jerky, darting see-saw, threaded his way up -the field behind Talbot and Hardie and Eaton -and any one else he could use as a cover, for -thirty good yards. He went down buried deep, -like a greased pig finally swamped by numbers. -Then when the small Westcottites were chirping -over the prospect of a quick advance to the -goal line, Talbot, without trying a single rush, -punted long and low, sending the ball out of -bounds on the twenty-yard line.</p> -<div class='footnote' id='f1'> -<p class='c008'><a href='#r1'>1</a>. The Westcott line-up: Hardie, Eaton, Bumpus, Ford, -Channing, B. Tracy, Harrison; quarter-back, McDowell; half-backs, -Horr and Talbot; full-back, Bradford.</p> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>The Newburyites now had their chance, with -the length of the field before them, and hammered -away with moderate success, now on this side, -now on that, till Eaton broke through on a slow-starting -end-play and nabbed the runner yards -behind the line. Forced to kick or try a forward -pass, Newbury chose the second alternative and -lost the ball. Again Pete punted, to the disappointment -of the eager Westcott spectators, and -again Newbury started near her goal line on the -slow pound-pound down the field.</p> - -<p class='c008'>A half-dozen short gains had been made, when, -on a second down, Talbot pulled Roger aside. -“Seven in third place means outside Eaton,” -he panted. “Watch out!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Six, four, seven, twenty-two, forty-four!” -sang out the Newbury quarter. Hardie crept in -a double pace; Talbot, line half-back, advanced -a step; and Eaton nerved himself for a spring. -The ball moved; Eaton, moving with it, evaded -his opponent and smashed into the interference -behind the line. The bearer of the ball, seeing -Talbot in the gap in front and Hardie swinging -in upon him from outside, tossed the ball to a -mate behind who let it slip through his hands. -Roger threw himself at it as it fell. When the -heap was split open, there lay the Westcott end -at the bottom, curled round the ball like a rat -around an egg.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Now, within striking distance of the Newbury -goal line, Westcott’s abandoned the kicking game -and took to aggressive, fast play. Sequence B -carried them forward fifteen yards, a fortunate -try at right end gave them five yards more, Eaton -and Hardie twice opened a clean lane for Bradford -through the sputtering Skillen. Even -Bumpus succeeded in getting some kind of a lift -from underneath on big Firman, and assisted to -establish a first down. The unexpectedly fast -and furious attack confused the Newbury resistance. -Within the ten-yard line Mac gave -himself a chance, and scurrying to the right the -proper measure, squirmed over the last eight -yards under Harrison’s protection and dived -home past clutching hands and struggling bodies. -Westcott’s had scored a certain five!</p> - -<p class='c008'>In the intermission Harrison contributed an -outside-right-tackle signal which he had learned -from the repetitious Newbury quarter, and -Bumpus the number which usually preceded onslaughts -on centre.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Don’t try to find out anything more!” commanded -Yards. “Put your whole soul into the -play. You’ve got the game if you can only hold -them.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Back they trotted, with smirched faces and -tired limbs, but eager and determined. Their -schoolmates on the cheering benches howled -joyfully at them as they passed, but a certain -gentleman wearing a brown derby and fur overcoat, -and accompanied by a short, rotund man, -easily recognizable by his diamond shirt-stud, -thick mustache, and fat, red-veined face, -gave them but ungracious looks. These looks -presaged words equally ungracious to be uttered -after the game, but the players passed on, unaware -that the eye of President John Smith -rested on them in disapproval.</p> - -<p class='c008'>I wish I might relate all the feats of heroes -performed during the second half of this game -which seemed to Mike McKay the most wholly -satisfying contest he had ever witnessed. The -chapter, however, has already run its length, -and more football is coming. The ball made -many futile journeys to and fro. Thrice the -Newbury captain forced his quarter to alter the -signals because Westcott’s change showed that -the coming move was understood. Twice a -Newbury man got an on-side kick behind the -Westcott secondary defence, only to go down in -McDowell’s grasp. Once Mac risked a long forward -pass in the middle of the field on a first -down, and Harrison, getting it near the side-line, -made a forty-yard run to a touch-down. Once -Skillen hit Hardie a swinging blow with his fist -as the Westcott end <i>would</i> interfere between him -and the ball; and escaped the eye of the umpire. -Once more he tried the same pretty trick and -retired from the field in consequence. Time -slipped away, and with it Newbury’s chance and -Newbury’s courage. At the last blast of the -referee’s whistle the score stood eleven to nothing -in favor of Harrison’s team.</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch10' class='c006'>CHAPTER X <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>THE SCOUTS BRING NEWS</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>The</span> delighted Westcott lads poured after their -team to the dressing rooms in a turbulent stream. -The forward ones thronged the limited space -within, interfering with the progress of the players -toward cleanness and respectability, and wearying -them with fierce clutches of the hand and much -repetition of exclamations and idle questions. -Dunn served his companions a good turn—unintentionally, -to be sure—by standing near the -door and delivering to a densely packed circle -a disquisition on the game, which included not -merely the true explanation of the weakness of -the Newbury team and the faults of their playing, -but a candid setting forth of the errors on the -Westcott side. According to Dunn, the score -might have been doubled if Westcott’s hadn’t -thrown the ball away so much by punting, and -had gone systematically to work at the outset to -use up Thorne, the Newbury tackle who did half -the defensive work of his team.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Didn’t McDowell put up a great game,—and -Hardie?” exclaimed some inconsiderate enthusiast -in the circle.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes, they both did pretty well on the whole,” -answered Dunn. “It was a cinch for Hardie. -He had nothing against him.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mike and Dickie Sumner came edging by.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“If Jason had only been there, you’d have -seen something doing,” said Mike, in a low tone -to his companion. They both laughed aloud. -Dunn turned at the sound and caught a glimpse -of the roguish faces, and felt, though he could not -hear, the insult of their words.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Get out of here, you kids!” he called angrily. -“You’ve no business here at all.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We’re going, Jason, as fast as we can,” returned -Dick, feeling safe in the crowd. “You -played a corking game, Jason!” added Mike.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The two went their way to the quarters of the -other team to see how the Newburyites were -taking it, leaving Dunn to wax violent over the -necessity of having these “little fresh mutts” -hanging round all the time, and the foolish -encouragement they received from older fellows -who ought to know better. Some of these fellows -who ought to know better were at the other end -of the room preparing for the shower. Jack -Sumner held Talbot’s foot in his lap—the knee -was stiffening again—and worked at the knot -in a shoe-lace, exclaiming with delight over the -playing of the team and dwelling with especial -enthusiasm on McDowell’s performance.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It was just perfect,” he said, relaxing his -efforts on the knot to look into the faces of his -hearers. “Those tackles in the second half -when Thorne got the on-side kicks and came down -on him, just saved touch-downs. He’s the greatest -find of the year!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh, cut it!” exploded Talbot, punning without -intent. He meant that Jack should drop -that talk about McDowell. It was honest, without -doubt, and generous, but it hurt Pete none -the less, for he understood well Sumner’s disappointment.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I haven’t any knife,” said Sumner. “Here, -Steve, give us a knife!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>And Wilmot, interrupting his discourse on how -he had saved the game by suggesting that they -learn the signals during play, dug down into his -trousers pocket and produced a battered thing -with a single broken blade, which he kept on -purpose to lend.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Be sure you give it back to me,” he said. -“It’s the only lender I’ve got.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Meantime in the Newbury quarters, outside of -which stood Mike and Dickie with wide-open eyes -and most receptive ears, were to be heard laments -and reproaches and an indignant clamor of foul -play. Westcott’s knew the Newbury signals, -there was no doubt about it.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Why, that Hardie would move right up on -the signal for outside-tackle play, and go right -back again when it was called off. He knew -the signal all right.” Skillen’s assurance had -personal interest behind it. He wanted it -understood that he had been laboring under -a handicap.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And on the centre plays in the second half,” -said Firman, “Ford came right up into the line, -and Talbot got in behind him. Of course I -couldn’t make a hole.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That miserable Callahan gave them away,” -declared Newbold, the captain. “You wouldn’t -suppose Westcott’s would play such a dirty trick, -would you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“These high flyers are always the worst grafters,” -said Skillen. “They’ll cheat fast enough -when they have to.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But we changed some of the signals,” remarked -Thorne, “and that outside-tackle signal that they -knew was one of the new ones.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That was only one,” said Newbold. “They -knew at least half a dozen. Callahan sold us, -that’s the fact. We’ve got proof. Fritz Schaefer -saw him at the Westcott grounds last Wednesday, -talking with one of their men. It’s a steal. -We’ll protest the game.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t believe they did it,” said Thorne. -“I know one or two of their fellows, and they aren’t -that kind. Williams (the quarter-back) always -gives the same numbers, anyway. No one who -kept his ears open could help hearing some of -them.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s right, stand up for ’em!” said Hexam, -bitterly. “Go back on your own school and try -to get the Westcott fellows’ favor! They may -let you into one of their societies when you get -to college.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t feel as if I’d gone back on my own -school much to-day,” returned Thorne, quietly. -“It’s bad enough to be beaten without playing -the baby.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s a steal!” Newbold reiterated. “They -got our signals and won unfairly. Smith says -so.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Smith was saying so at that very moment, in -strongly rhetorical language, to an eager crowd -outside the quarters, including in its front rank -a stout man with a diamond pin, and—on the -outskirts—Mike McKay and Dickie Sumner. -The high-minded president was sorely pained—not -at the defeat of his school—oh, no! Nor -by the anti-climax of his first gala day—certainly -not! Nor by his loss of prestige with -Alderman Skillen. He was pained, but only -impersonally and officially, as the offended guardian -of the moral majesty of the league.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They was too smart for you, that’s about the -size of it,” Mr. Skillen was saying. “If the’ -isn’t any rule against buying up a coach, why, -they’ve got you pinched.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No rule is needed,” answered President John, -pompously. “The league stands for the highest -ideals in sport. It won’t countenance low tricks or -dishonorable methods of winning or anything at all -in the games that isn’t absolutely fair and right.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It wasn’t fair and right to kick Jerry off the -field, that’s a sure thing,” declared the alderman. -“The other fellow got into him first with -his shoulder. I saw him do it time and again.” -An irrepressible titter ran round the circle at this -ingenuous view of football etiquette.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We have to leave that to the officials,” President -John hastened to say. “I think they -roasted us several times, but we can’t help that. -The other matter is one for the league itself to -handle. It’s one of the most disgraceful performances -in the annals of football!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The bystanders listened greedily. Mr. Skillen -gave a sharp nod of approval. “That’s the way -to put it—make it good and strong and stick -to it. Your friends can give us a nice little story -about it in the papers to-morrow. But what’ll -come of it all, that’s what I want to know? Will -there be anything doin’?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We shall protest the game before the committee -and demand that it be played again or -declared forfeited.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Forfeit!” decided Mr. Skillen, promptly. -“Forfeit’s the thing. It wouldn’t help any to -play it again. They’ve got too many trumps.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Forfeited, then,” agreed Mr. Smith. “I’ll -see Newbold about it at once.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>President John disappeared through the door -leading to the Newbury quarters, whither the -curious young Westcott lads had not the audacity -to follow. They hung about, however, hoping -that he might reappear, and talked over the -startling news in indignant whispers. They didn’t -understand it all, but it was clear that their admired -heroes were charged with buying signals -from a Newbury coach and winning the game -through the knowledge thus acquired.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s all rot,” decided Mike. “Somebody’s -been kidding ’em. They’d believe any old lie, -if they thought they could make anything by it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Why, my brother Jack would no more do such -a thing than he would pick pockets!” said Dickie. -“He’s awfully particular about those things, and -Pete is just the same.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They’re all the same, except Jason,”—there -was nothing evil Mike wouldn’t believe about -Jason,—“and Jason doesn’t count any more.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The president came forth, mopping his face -with his handkerchief and setting his hat firmly -on his head. From the window of the dressing -room he had seen Mr. Westcott, lingering with -three of his old boys near the entrance to the -grounds. Toward this group he set a straight -course, while the two lads fell in unnoticed behind -him.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Mr. Westcott!” called the high official, sharply, -as he drew near. The college boys lifted their -hats and went their way. Mr. Westcott turned -with a pleasant look on his face, and in his heart -a kindly feeling for all the world, including this -man Smith. The afternoon had brought him a -full measure of happiness; first the splendid -playing of his team, then a shower of hearty -greetings from old boys—and tokens of regard -from former pupils, be it understood, are the -sweetest morsels an honest schoolmaster can roll -beneath his tongue.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Mr. Westcott!” came in a loud, contentious -voice from beneath the brown derby. “We shall -protest that game,—I mean the captain of the -Newbury team has protested it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Westcott’s smile vanished in a flash, and an -expression of bewilderment overspread his face. -“Protested!” he repeated. “I do not understand. -On what ground, pray?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Your team, it appears, bought or at least got -the signals which Newbury was to use from a discharged -coach, and so were able to anticipate and -block the Newbury plays.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It appears from what?” asked the schoolmaster, -coldly.</p> - -<p class='c008'>President John hesitated. “Well, from the -game itself and—from other facts.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Mr. Smith,” said Mr. Westcott, speaking -with head thrown back, in tones resonant with -indignation, “you probably do not realize the -insulting character of the charge which you are -bringing. If I understand you to mean that the -Westcott management plotted to win the game -with stolen signals, I assure you the charge is both -false and slanderous. There is a bad mistake -somewhere. I know my boys, as you do not; -they are incapable of such an act.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I didn’t want to believe it myself, sir,” said -President John, for the instant abashed, “but -the facts are such—” He stopped and tried to -think what the facts really were.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The facts?” persisted Mr. Westcott.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They will be stated fully at the meeting of -the committee which I shall call,” answered John, -recovering himself. “I merely desired to give -you notice that I had received the protest.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>He turned and bent his steps toward his allies -at the dressing rooms, driving two urchins in -flight before him. Long before his pompous -strut brought him to the Newbury end of the -locker building, the two young scouts had burst -in among the Westcott players with a whoop and -a yell, had gathered about them in a trice an -elbowing crush of the dressed and half-dressed, -and with mutual support and interruption, were -devoting themselves to the delectable task of -relating the news. The audience listened wild-eyed, -questioned, and exploded in exclamations. -When the fire of questions slackened and the -exclamations began to pop, Dunn seized his -suit-case and silently stole away. This crowd -was no place for him.</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch11' class='c006'>CHAPTER XI <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>A FRUITLESS INTERVIEW</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>When</span> the Westcott boys gathered Monday -morning at the corner outside the school building, -every third comer bore a newspaper in his -hand and hot indignation in his heart. Only -those who did not read the papers, and had not -learned the news which Mike and Dickie brought -to the quarters, wore the complacent smile which -they had carried from the field on Saturday.</p> - -<p class='c008'>President John’s friends, the reporters, had -done their work thoroughly. While most of the -Sunday journals merely announced the result of -the game, or gave a few inches of space to a more -or less inaccurate description, the <i>Trumpeter</i> -and the <i>Mail</i> each sacrificed to it the best -part of a column on the page devoted to sports, -introduced by heavy headlines such as: WESTCOTT’S -KNEW THE SIGNALS. SENSATIONAL -CHARGES AGAINST BACK BAY -BOYS. GAME PROTESTED. INTERVIEW -WITH PRES. SMITH! From the interview -it appeared that President John saw the affair in -a very serious light; that the league stood for the -highest ideals in sport,—a familiar phrase in the -mouth of its president,—and would certainly -deal sternly with dishonorable practices of any -kind. A special meeting of the managing committee -of the league was to be called immediately -to consider the protest. If the charge should be -sustained, clearly the only fair course would be to -declare the game forfeited to Newbury, the score -to stand on the record as one to nothing.</p> - -<p class='c008'>To say that the Westcott lads felt indignant -at being thus advertised as unscrupulous cheats -when they knew themselves absolutely innocent, -is like describing a raving maniac as the victim of -hallucination. They boiled and bubbled with -rage. If President John had shown himself at -the corner of Otway Street at that moment, -they would have flown to mob him, though every -bell in the Westcott school were clanging in their -ears. But as the exalted official did not present -himself to be mobbed, and the school gong did -ring, they filed obediently in, and taking their -seats, brooded in sullen bitterness on the outrage. -A boy’s sense of justice—or, as some one has -better expressed it, sense of injustice—is always -morbidly keen. The boys at Westcott’s were -used to a life in which the good things flowed in -on them naturally, with few questions as to -whether they were deserved or undeserved. -Good behavior, fair work, regard for their parents’ -wishes, constituted the price they were expected -to pay; even on this discounts were sometimes -allowed. Flat over-riding of just rights had entered -into their experience as little as physical -hardship. They reared against the blow like a -young, high-spirited horse which feels for the first -time the sting of a cruel whip.</p> - -<p class='c008'>After the morning Scripture reading, to which, -it is to be feared, few gave heed, Mr. Westcott -called Harrison and Wilmot into his office, where -he kept them for a quarter of an hour. The other -football men, if they could have had their hearts’ -desire, would have sat outside the office, matching -expletives, until their comrades should come -forth and give them the history of the interview. -This being for obvious reasons impossible, the -excited lads kept their curiosity under control -and went about their morning tasks with -what interest they could muster,—wrestling, -nauseated, with the dullness of Burke on Conciliation, -abusing good English by turning it into -worse than peasant German, and finding Cicero’s -maledictions on Catiline but weak and watery -dilutions compared with the things they could -say of President John Smith. Dunn alone of those -especially concerned studied that morning with absolute -diligence; he did this in self-defence, to keep -his thoughts from a subject—more disagreeable -than lessons—to which they would wander if his -grip upon them slackened but a moment.</p> - -<p class='c008'>At the lunch hour the ban was raised. A -crowd packed itself about Harrison and Wilmot -as soon as the two got within the lunch-room door, -demanding news, and news condensed. “What -did he say? What are you going to do?” was -the burden of the questions, but they fell like a -hailstorm in various forms and at various angles, -from scores of lips at once. Harrison was staggered, -but not Wilmot, whose nimble wit served -an ever nimble tongue.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He says we’ve disgraced the school,” said -Wilmot, with a tragic gesture. “We’ve got to -go to Mr. Smith and apologize and—”</p> - -<p class='c008'>He stopped, not because he had run out of -ideas, or was put to shame by the serious faces -about him, but of simple necessity. A hand was -pressed upon his lips and a strong arm embraced -him from behind.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Shut up, or I’ll break your ribs,” said Talbot, -quietly. “We don’t want to hear from you at all. -Harry’s the man. Go ahead, Harry. I’ll keep -this fellow quiet.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Harrison, thus encouraged, started on his report. -“He wanted to know all about it, and -we told him. He said it was an insult to the -school which we must treat with dignified contempt. -We’ve got to keep cool about it and not -get crazy and shoot off a lot of wild talk. That -would hurt us more than anything those fellows -can say. He’s going to have Yards write to the -two papers, and he’ll write to the head-master -at Trowbridge.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They’ve called a meeting for Wednesday,” -said Pete.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Do you think Trowbridge will side with ’em?” -asked Hardie.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I hope not,” answered the captain, doubtfully.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“If they think they can beat us,” offered Cable, -“Trowbridge will side with us, because if we beat -Newbury and Trowbridge beat us, the worst -that could come for Trowbridge would be a tie, -even if they got beaten by Newbury.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How’s that?” demanded Reeves.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s right. Think it out for yourself, and -you’ll see,” said Talbot, impatiently.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And if we get one vote from Trowbridge, and -one goes against us,” continued Cable, encouraged -by the attention given to his remarks, “we’re -sure to lose our case. There would be two votes -of Newbury and one of Trowbridge against us, -and two of Westcott’s and one of Trowbridge -for us. Then the president would vote against -us.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s right, too,” said Pete, ruefully.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And if Trowbridge doesn’t vote at all or -doesn’t come to the meeting, the result will be -the same.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t believe Trowbridge would play us -that kind of a trick,” remarked Sumner; “it’s -too mean a thing to do.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>At this point the suppressed Wilmot began to -wave his hands about in gestures which indicated -that he wished permission to speak.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Let go of him, Pete; he wants to say something!” -commanded the captain.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Wilmot, obtaining release by this pantomime, -escaped to a safer position. “You haven’t said -anything about going to see Callahan.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I forgot that. He thought Jason and some -one else had better hunt up Callahan and get his -evidence.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>At this proposal, Dunn, who stood on the outskirts -of the crowd, was edging away, but Eaton -dragged him back. “I won’t!” said the unfortunate, -sullenly. “I don’t want anything more -to do with it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’ve got to,” Eaton retorted. “You’ve -got us into this scrape; now you must get us out.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’ll have to go, too, Harry,” said Talbot, -calmly treating Dunn’s refusal as if it had not -been made.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I must be at the practice. Steve can go. -He’s no use for anything else.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I can’t go, either,” began Wilmot. “I’ve -got to look after the balls and take care of the -sweaters and—”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Shut up!” interrupted Talbot. “Mike will -attend to all that, won’t you, Mike?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Sure!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’m not the man for it; I couldn’t get anything -out of him,” insisted Wilmot. “A simple, -inoffensive fellow like me could never make any -one do anything he doesn’t want to. Pete ought -to go. He’s got an awful crust.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’re going,” answered Talbot; “it’s the -manager’s job. If Callahan can stand your talk -for ten minutes without giving you anything -you ask to get rid of you, he’ll be the first man -who’s ever done it. You remember the address, -Jason?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn thought he did. “Then it’s settled,” -said Talbot. “Let’s get something to eat.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>That afternoon Wilmot and Dunn journeyed to -East Boston together in search of Callahan. They -had little to say to each other on the way. Wilmot -disliked Dunn, and Dunn was afraid of Wilmot; -neither relished the expedition on which they -were engaged. After much questioning and unnecessary -wandering they arrived at No. 73 -Doble Street and asked if Mr. Callahan lived there.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Yes, Mr. Callahan lived there, but was not at -home; he would be in about five. The boys -drifted forth to kill time as best they could, -hung round the steamship docks, where a big -Cunarder was being loaded, until darkness fell, -and then strolled slowly back to the abode of the -ex-coach.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Callahan had returned. They waited in the -dimly lighted entry while their message was -carried aloft, depressed by the strange surroundings -and a sense of inadequacy to the task which -they had undertaken. Presently a heavy step was -heard descending the bare treads of the second -flight above, and soon Callahan’s forbidding face -came into the half-light. He stopped on the third -stair and peered suspiciously down upon his -visitors.</p> - -<p class='c008'>It had been arranged that Dunn should begin -the interview, but at the crisis Jason was dumb.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What is it?” demanded Callahan. “What -do you want?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We come from Westcott’s School,” said -Wilmot, perceiving that it was useless to wait -for Dunn. “You’ve probably seen in the papers -the trouble we’re in about the Newbury game.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes, I have,” snarled Callahan, with an oath; -“and a nice mess you’ve got me into with your -talk!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We haven’t been talking,” Wilmot answered; -“it’s Newbury that’s doing the talking. We -thought you’d be willing to help us out by -saying that we didn’t get any signals from -you, and—”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Of course you didn’t get any signals from -me—for the very good reason that I wouldn’t -have given ’em to you.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But you offered them to us,” said Dunn, his -tongue loosened by this strange statement. “You -told me that day at Adams’s—”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Callahan turned fiercely upon him. “It’s a -lie! I never offered you any signals. I said I -was through with Newbury and could coach you -if you wanted me.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn, amazed, opened his mouth to reply, but -Wilmot was too quick for him. “Will you write -us a statement that you didn’t give us any signals? -Of course we know you didn’t, but the statement -might help us.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Write nothing!” said the coach, shortly. -“It’s none of my business. There’s nothing in it -for me.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We’ll pay you for it,” began Dunn, with eagerness; -but Wilmot, who perceived instantly that -an evil interpretation might be given to this -transaction, checked his colleague.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No, we couldn’t do that, of course. It wouldn’t -look right. But if you’d give us a statement -denying that we got the Newbury signals from -you, we should be very thankful for it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’m not giving statements. Anybody who -knows Jake Callahan knows he wouldn’t sell signals. -Anybody who says he did, lies!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>While speaking these words, Callahan had -finished his descent of the stairs and opened the -outer door. Wilmot said good night and went -forth, dragging after him Dunn, who seemed on -the point of raising again the question of the -conversation which he had held with Callahan -at the field.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But he did offer the signals just the same!” -Dunn broke out, after they had walked in silence -a hundred yards down the street.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What difference does it make?” answered -Wilmot, wearily. “He’s no good to us, anyway.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Yards was no more successful with his communication -to the newspapers. The <i>Mail</i> hid -it away in the bottom corner of the market -page, where Yards himself had difficulty in -discovering it. The <i>Trumpeter</i> sandwiched it -in between a letter on Esperanto and another -from an opponent of the battle-ship programme. -As few who read the sports pages know of the -existence of the correspondence column, and no -one who reads the letters cares anything about -sports, Yards’s chance of undoing the impression -made by President John’s friends was about one -in a thousand.</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch12' class='c006'>CHAPTER XII <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>PRESIDENT JOHN’S IDEALS</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>Talbot</span> and Sumner were the Westcott members -of the general committee which was to consider -the protest of the Newbury captain. They -did not lack advice as to what to say and what -not to say, nor original suggestions concerning -methods of influencing the Trowbridge vote, -which, as everybody understood, must really -decide the matter. Mr. Westcott was the only -counsellor to whom they gave heed, and his -directions they determined to follow to the best -of their ability. They were to avoid all display -of feeling, keep their tempers under absolute -control, tell their story calmly without acrimony, -and throw themselves unreservedly upon the -sense of fairness of the committee. Such a course -was especially difficult for Talbot, whose vehemence -tolerated no trifling or evasion, and whose -frankness verged on discourtesy. He felt his -own unfitness for the task before him, even while -he longed to be brought face to face with the -traducers of his school.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’ll have to do the talking, Jack,” he said, -as the two delegates, having patiently endured -to the end the fusillade of admonitions and counsel -with which their ears had been deafened all day -long, took seats in the car which was to carry -them to the Newbury School. “If I once get -going, I’m bound to go off the handle and ruin -the whole business.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t believe you will,” answered Sumner, -reassuringly. “There’s too much at stake. You -just want to think of it as seven honest people -brought together to consider a question of fact,—that’s -what Mr. Westcott said,—not as if you -were out for a fight with three sworn enemies and -two doubtful characters.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“If Smithy isn’t an enemy, I don’t know what -an enemy is! I wish Harry or Steve were here -in my place; either would be a lot better than I. -Harry can hold his tongue, and Steve can talk -an apple off a tree!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You can hold your tongue, too.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I will, if I have to bite it off—until they -decide against us. When that comes, I’m going -to call ’em just what they are, a pack of -thieves!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But it may not come,” said Sumner, quietly.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh, it will. Everybody thinks so. Mr. Snyder -will vote with us because Trowbridge will want to -seem to be fair, and Frost will vote with Newbury. -That will make a tie, and Smithy will be forced -in the interests of pure athletics to give the deciding -vote against us.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t believe it. Anyway, if that’s your -opinion, you don’t want to show it, or they’ll -think you know you haven’t any case. We want -to act as if we were sure of the rightfulness -of our claim, and had only to state it to have -it granted.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I wish there was something I could <i>do</i>!” -groaned Pete. “I hate to sit around and pretend.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The other members of the committee were -already assembled when Sumner and Talbot were -shown into the room. The glance with which -Pete took in this fact hardened immediately into -a look of hostility, for it seemed to him probable -that the five had already used their opportunity -to come to a decision with reference to the object -of the meeting, and that the proceedings would -now be merely formal. But Sumner was already -going the rounds, shaking hands with everybody -in a spirit of great friendliness; so Pete, suspecting -that this was the proper time to begin that -assumption of confidence to which Sumner had -urged him, fell in behind his colleague, with a -mighty effort crowding back his feeling of distrust. -Mr. Snyder and Frost greeted him cordially, -and though Newbold vouchsafed but a -languid clasp of the hand and murmured a palpably -empty phrase of politeness through a -frigid grimace, Thorne gave him a grip of reassuring -warmth. He tarried therefore at Thorne’s -side and talked with him for a few minutes on -indifferent themes,—such as sailing and summer -dances,—thereby turning his back on President -John and avoiding the necessity of dissembling -before that much-hated dignitary.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Thorne and Talbot were old friends, although -their position now seemed to Pete more like that -of enemies approaching the battlefield. Their -summer houses stood within a mile of each other -on Buzzard’s Bay, and even now their boats -lay housed side by side. It was a pity that a -naturally decent fellow like Thorne could be so -blinded by rabid partisanship as to lend himself -as an abettor to the scheme of a John Smith!</p> - -<p class='c008'>So Talbot was thinking, more in sorrow than -in wrath, when President John mounted the -platform—a recitation room was their council -chamber—and called the meeting to order. -They separated now to three benches, Newbold -and Thorne on the left wing, Mr. Snyder and Frost -in the centre, Talbot and Sumner on the right. -“It’s like a court,” whispered Pete, “with Trowbridge -for judge. We’re no good except to pair -with Newbold and Thorne.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The chairman introduced the business of the -hour with all solemnity. The committee had -met to consider the charge made by Newbury -that Westcott’s had won the game of Saturday -by unfair and dishonorable methods. It had been -to him a great disappointment that the first contest -in the new league, to which he had devoted so -much time and thought, should have been darkened -by scandal. He felt, however, and he was -confident that the majority of the committee -agreed with him, that there could be no turning -back upon the ideals of the league—again those -ideals!—The mere winning or losing of a game -was of slight consequence compared with the -supreme importance of holding unswervingly to -the highest conceptions of honor and gentlemanly -conduct.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The old hypocrite!” whispered Pete in Sumner’s -ear.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Hush!” and a warning hand clutched the -offender’s knee.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The chairman now read the protest,—which -wound up with a demand that the game be declared -forfeited to Newbury,—and complacently -asked what should be done with it, addressing presumably -the whole committee, but looking straight -before him at the two members from Trowbridge.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I think we ought to consider first the grounds -for the protest, and afterwards, if the protest is -sustained, the penalty,” said Mr. Snyder.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Very well,” agreed the chairman; “we will -hear the Newbury statements first.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>If the protest is sustained! Why should they -mention the penalty at all unless they meant to -sustain the protest? Talbot became more than -ever convinced that the whole affair was prejudged -and that the proceedings would be merely the -carrying out of a prearranged plan.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He listened closely to Newbold, none the less, -when the latter, in the capacity of prosecuting -attorney, presented his case. Newbury had been -unfortunate this year in the selection of Callahan -as coach. A week before the game with Westcott’s, -for certain reasons unnecessary to state, he -had been discharged. Callahan was very “sore” -and declared in presence of witnesses—Newbold -held up a paper which he said contained their -statements—that he’d “get even.” A few days -afterward, Callahan had been observed at the -Westcott field in long conversation with a Westcott -player—another display of papers. Later -this player was seen conferring with Harrison and -others of the football men. In the course of this -conference, one of the Westcott men dropped a -paper which the witness secured; on it was written -the address of the discharged coach. Suspecting -an attempt to steal a knowledge of their game, -Newbury had changed certain plays and signals, -but because the time was too short to master an -entirely new set they had been compelled to use -a large number of the old ones. In the game -Westcott’s had often understood the Newbury -signals as soon as they were given out, and it was -the old signals which they understood. Through -a knowledge of the signals, Westcott’s spoiled -Newbury’s play and won.</p> - -<p class='c008'>As Newbold sat down, Mr. Smith drew his hand -across his forehead, swept the line of benches -with a look of sorrow and pain, and sighed audibly. -There was plainly no doubt at all in the chairman’s -mind as to the substantial truth of the charge. -It was but too clear that a treacherous blow had -been struck at the fair fame of the Triangular -League, and at those ideals of sportsmanship which -were ever the objects of President John’s highest -solicitude. But Anglo-Saxon justice has established -the principle that the worst criminal has -a right to be heard in his own defence. Mr. -Smith turned therefore to the bench on his left, -and with the manner of a judge asking the -convicted felon whether he has any statement -to make before sentence is passed, invited -the representatives from Westcott’s to -make response.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Sumner had prepared no speech; he lacked, -moreover, as he would himself assert, all talent -for impromptu oratory. But he could tell a plain -story with candor and simplicity, and there spoke -in his tones an honest conviction, which -would inspire belief if the listening ears were attuned -to such a voice. He denied with all the -vigor he could put into words that Westcott’s -had bought or stolen or had any previous knowledge -of the Newbury signals. Callahan <i>had</i> -approached one of the Westcott players and -offered to betray the signals, but Westcott’s had -scorned the offer. The address which the Newbury -spy had discovered was thrown away, not -dropped. In the game Westcott’s had learned -a few signals by listening to them as they were -given by the Newbury quarter, but before the -game began, they had absolutely no knowledge -of the signals to be used by their opponents.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I should like to know, then, how it happened -that it was the old signals, not the new ones, that -you found out,” began Newbold, savagely, as -Sumner dropped back into his seat.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“If that was the case,” answered Sumner, -“it was merely chance. All we got was three or -four numbers for holes.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Newbold sniffed. “I should like to ask something -else, too,” he continued. “You’ve played -football and you know what the excitement -is in a game. Do you think it is an easy thing -to detect a lot of unknown signals while the game -is going on?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No, I don’t,” answered Sumner, calmly, “but -you could get a few if they were given as openly -as yours were.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They weren’t given openly!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>At this point, perhaps in the interest of peace, -Mr. Snyder interposed with a question. “What -has Callahan to say about this? Have you his -statement?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Sumner recounted the futile efforts which -Westcott’s had made to induce the coach to give -evidence, not concealing the fact that Callahan -now denied that he had offered any signals -at all.</p> - -<p class='c008'>At this frank admission Newbold gave vent -to a nervous titter of derision. President John -smiled contemptuously. “Your stories do not -hang together, Mr. Sumner,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“One story is ours and the other is Callahan’s,” -answered Sumner, quickly. “They can’t hang -together if Callahan lies.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Pete whispered into Sumner’s ear, “Ask Thorne -about it!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Ask him yourself!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Talbot got upon his feet. “We’ve been answering -questions for a while, now I think it’s our -turn to ask a few. I want Thorne to tell us -whether we recognized any signals on his side of -the line.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes,” answered Thorne.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How many?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I am sure of one, the play outside tackle.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Was it in the first or last part of the game?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The last.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Was it an old signal or a new one?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“A new one.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I think he’s mistaken about that,” cried -Newbold, and he applied himself immediately -with angry exhortations to his colleague’s ear. -Thorne reddened under the attack, but did not -retreat.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You see, it was just as Sumner said,” commented -Talbot, addressing the central bench. -“We picked up a few signals during the game. -Callahan couldn’t have given us that tackle signal, -if we had asked him.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Unfortunately it isn’t a question of one signal, -but of many,” said President John, quickly. -“You ask us to believe what the football experts -assure us is impossible.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“If you have a fool quarter-back, anything is -possible,” retorted Talbot. “When three plays -out of four in succession are sent at the same hole -with only a slight alteration in the signal, a fellow -must be an idiot not to guess what the signal -means!” Pete stopped short there, for Sumner -pulled him down.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We didn’t do that!” snapped Newbold.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Again Mr. Snyder interfered. “I think we -may as well vote now,” he said. “We have heard -both sides.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes, vote!” muttered Talbot. “That’s what -we’re here for! It’s no use to waste time on the -truth if you’ve already made up your minds not -to accept it.” The words were spoken too low -to carry distinctly, a prudence which must be -credited to the restraining influence of Sumner’s -clutch upon the speaker’s knee.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We will take the vote then,” announced the -chairman, in accents of genuine relief; but he -added immediately, “Unless some one has additional -evidence to present or questions to ask.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I think further discussion would be unprofitable,” -said Mr. Snyder, quickly. “Newbury -has made a charge and Westcott’s has denied it. -It only remains for us to give our decision.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>To this sentiment the general silence gave -consent.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch13' class='c006'>CHAPTER XIII <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>THE COMMITTEE DECIDES</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>President John</span> had his ballots ready. “I -will distribute blank slips of paper,” he said, -“and Mr. Frost will kindly gather up the votes. -Those who think that the protest should be sustained -will write ‘Yes’ upon their ballots, the -others will write ‘No.’”</p> - -<p class='c008'>He descended from his throne and paraded -along the line, distributing blank ballots with a -great show of solemnity. Those which he put -into the hands of the Newbury delegates could -hardly be called blank, as they had the word “Yes” -written clearly upon them. The great chief was -determined to reduce the chances of error to a -minimum. Presently Frost gathered up the -momentous tickets and delivered them into the -hands of the chairman.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Four to two against us!” whispered Talbot, -as Mr. Smith began to separate the ballots. A -squeeze upon his knee was all the answer Sumner -vouchsafed. An instant after, they were both -intently watching the president, across whose -face, bent eagerly over the desk, swept an expression -of astonishment and indignation.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I think there has been a misunderstanding -here,” he said slowly, as he lifted his eyes to the -occupants of the Newbury bench. Newbold returned -his look with a stare of fright and curiosity, -but Thorne was gazing out of the window. “On -one ballot ‘Yes’ had been first written and afterwards -changed to ‘No.’ It is possible that -I did not make myself entirely clear. I think we -had better take another vote.” And he repeated -once more the conditions of the balloting.</p> - -<p class='c008'>This time all the slips given out were blank. -Thorne wrote his, holding it in front of him in the -palm of his hand. Newbold peeped over his -shoulder, uttered an exclamation and snatched -at the ballot, but Thorne repulsed him with a -quick uplift of the elbow and dropped the vote -in the hat. The chairman sorted the ballots in -feverish haste, his cheeks dark with gathering -wrath. Then, rising to his feet, he darted a furious -glance at Thorne, who met it bravely.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The protest is not sustained,” he announced -with an effort at calmness.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What is the vote?” asked Frost.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The chairman made unwilling answer, “Five -to one.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Pete’s hand fell with a resounding slap on -Sumner’s shoulder. “Five to one!” he whispered, -exultant; “Thorne voted with us! Isn’t -he a corker to do that?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Five to one,” repeated Mr. Snyder. “It is -too bad it couldn’t have been unanimous. I -should like to say before we separate that this -whole affair seems to me in the highest degree -ill-advised and unfortunate. Unless we respect -each other sufficiently to trust in each other’s -honesty and honor, we have no right to be leagued -together. To encourage accusations like these -we have heard to-day without incontrovertible -proofs to support them is in itself an act of treachery -to the League. I hope we shall never be compelled -to discuss such a question again.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The meeting was over. President John was -jerking on his coat and savagely stamping his -feet into his overshoes. Sumner and Talbot, -having exchanged congratulatory grips, were -pouring out fervent expressions of gratitude to -their friends from Trowbridge, who had believed -them honest men, not liars and cheats. At the -moment of adjournment Thorne had taken his -hat, and without a word to friend or foe, had slipped -through the door. Newbold, following closely -after, overtook him in the hall.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s right! Run away and hide yourself, -you traitor!” shouted the captain, his voice -trembling with rage.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Thorne swung sharply round. “I’m not hiding -from <i>you</i>, anyway,” he said coolly. “What have -you got to say about it?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I say you’re a disgrace to the school. First -you threw us by letting on that that tackle signal -was a new one, and then you voted against us, -against your own school!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I told the truth, and I voted for what I thought -was right!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What you thought was right!” sneered Newbold. -“You voted that way just to get in with -those Westcott fellows, that’s what you did it for. -But you won’t succeed. No one respects a traitor, -least of all those who use him!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>This was a shot which wounded, not because -it was true, but because it suggested a despicable -motive for an act prompted solely by scruples of -conscience. Thorne started as if pricked by a -pin.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s a lie, Tom Newbold, and you know -it!” he flung back hotly, advancing a step toward -his assailant. “I’m not trying to get in with -any one, not even with you. I did it because I -believe in getting games by winning ’em, not by -stealing ’em.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The captain clenched his fists and glared. “You -won’t get the chance to win any more on <i>my</i> team, -I can tell you that. No team is big enough to -hold us two, after to-day’s work!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“All right!” returned Thorne, who had recovered -his self-control. “I’ll consider myself fired.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>On escaping from the council chamber, Talbot -spent half a dollar of precious allowance money -in telephoning to various people the happy result -of the meeting. Later, he went home and devoted -the hour before dinner to composing a letter to -Thorne, which should express his admiration of -Thorne’s honesty and courage. It was a difficult -letter to write, because it was necessary to praise -Thorne without condemning his schoolmates, -for Thorne was not one to listen with pleasure to -abuse of his associates by an outsider. As Thorne -did not answer this letter, Talbot concluded that -he must have bungled it.</p> - -<p class='c008'>In fact, Talbot’s honest eulogy was one of the -influences which enabled Thorne to face the unpleasantness -of the next two days at school with -head high and colors flying. He did not answer -the letter because under the circumstances he did -not wish to have any correspondence with Westcott’s. -The Newbold party did their best to set -the ban upon him in school, to brand him as a -traitor and expose him to public contempt. The -means employed to accomplish this purpose, the -misrepresentation, the distorted version of the -proceedings at the meeting, spread broadcast, -the gathering of an anti-Thorne party by promises -and threats, all might interest us, if it belonged -in the story. It is the result alone that concerns -this narrative. The movement was ill-timed. -After two days of practice with a substitute tackle -in Thorne’s position, the practical politicians -forced the hands of the extremists. On the morning -of the Trowbridge-Newbury game, Newbold, -driven to the hated course by the overwhelming -demand of the school, went morosely to Thorne’s -house to ask him to forgive and forget and take -his old place in the game.</p> - -<p class='c008'>It was too late; Thorne had gone out of town -with his father for the day. So Newbury fared to -Trowbridge, spiritless through dissensions, and -weakened by the absence of the best defensive -player in school. Trowbridge met them with a -fresh, well-fused eleven, opposed harmony and -dash to disunion and blind resistance, got the -jump on their adversaries in the line three times -out of four, made first downs through the weak -tackles almost at will,—and piled up three touch-downs -while Newbury was securing one lucky goal -from the field.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Alderman Skillen left the field in the middle of -the second half, disgusted with football and those -who had fanned his interest in it. When the score -reached seventeen, President John followed the -alderman’s example. Newbold, having suffered -the humiliation of defeat on the field, returned to -school to face cold looks and hear contemptuous -comments, and to see Thorne treated as a victim -of jealousy who might have saved the day if he -had only been allowed to play.</p> - -<p class='c008'>But the worst blow was dealt in the meeting for -the election of next year’s captain, when the team -not only rejected Newbold’s candidate—Newbold -himself was a senior—but actually elected -Thorne by a seventy per cent vote. And the -fickle school loudly acclaimed the choice.</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch14' class='c006'>CHAPTER XIV <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>THE TROWBRIDGE GAME</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>To</span> Sumner more than to any one else of the -Westcott School was due the fine spirit of caution -and determination with which the eleven faced -the momentous game with Trowbridge. He had -not slackened for a moment his devotion to the -team from which, according to Stover, he had -been ignominiously fired. He had watched the -Trowbridge-Newbury contest with a sharp eye and -an open note-book. The newspapers remarked -after the game that Trowbridge had gained on end -runs and tackle plays and lost on kicks; and that -Ricker, the Trowbridge back, was the star of the -game. Sumner had not been content with any -such general impressions. He had observed how -the plays were started behind the line, what holes -were relied on for emergencies, who was most likely -to fumble punts, and in precisely what way Ricker’s -interference formed and hit the line. During -the last week of practice, his second team was an -imitation Trowbridge, with Trowbridge end runs -and genuine Ricker dashes. The Ricker of the -Westcott second was alumnus Bill Ellery, Harvard -junior, who could cover the two-twenty in twenty-three, -and started like a deer. Two active old -Westcottites from across the Charles personated -Trowbridge tackles, and another guarded right -end. Yards practiced his linesmen in breaking -straight through, with a spring and a dart and a -slap of the open hand against the opponent’s -headguard; he forced them to make gripping -tackles on the slippery dummy; he taught them -how to master, not to kill, the men in front of -them; he furnished practicable plays adapted to -the powers of the team, and drilled the players in -signals until obedience was automatic—but it -was Sumner who prepared them for Ricker and -the deceptive end runs.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“This last week’s work has been the best of all,” -said Yards, the evening before the game. “If -Pete’s knee holds out, we ought to be able to put -up a pretty good offence, and Sumner’s second has -developed our defence wonderfully.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And he won’t even make his W!” lamented -Harrison.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No, he won’t!” answered Yards, who could -afford to be outspoken now that the end of the -season was at hand. “On every point of the game -McDowell is better.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Then you don’t think there’s any chance for -Jack to get in?” asked Harrison, wistfully.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Yards shook his head. “Not unless Mac is -laid out or we get a big lead.”</p> - -<div class='figcenter id006'> -<img src='images/i160.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic002'> -<p><span class='sc'>Regular Westcott Defence—Open</span><br />(<i>Outside thirty-yard line</i>)</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>Harrison smiled feebly at the sarcasm of this last -suggestion. There was about as much chance of -getting a big lead on Trowbridge as that Mac would -make half a dozen goals from the field or that -Bumpus would find big Hubbard an easy victim; -while it was quite within the range of probability -that Pete would injure his knee again and deprive -the team of its only good punter, or that some -accident would befall Eaton or Hardie or some -other strong player whose place no one could fill. -Subconsciously he shared the view prevalent in -school that Trowbridge was likely to win, though -he did not admit the possibility even to himself. -He had never wholly approved the system of open -defence which Yards had adopted from the Harvard -theorists. To one used to a solid line of -bodies before the ball it seemed a reckless scheme -to pull the centre out of his place and put him -behind the line, thus leaving open, in the wall of -defence, an avenue wide enough for a cart. He -could see that this method of resistance strengthened -the wings, through which the longest gains are -made, and rendered it possible to keep two backs -in reserve for on-side kicks and forward passes; -but would not this open highway through centre -furnish an easy route for heavy plunges? Yards -maintained that if Ford and the guards would -but watch the play carefully, the gains through -centre could be made unprofitably small; yet Harrison’s -doubts, though unuttered, were none the -less real.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id007'> -<img src='images/i161.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic002'> -<p><span class='sc'>Regular Trowbridge Defence—Closed</span></p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>Roger Hardie’s heart was beating quick with -eagerness to get into the play, when Talbot opened -the game by sending the ball spinning down to -the lower corner of the field. Cowles took it on the -bounce, and had worked it back fifteen yards -before he ran into Eaton’s arms. Through the -centre highway Ricker pushed for five yards before -Ford and Talbot reached him and brought -him down. Another assault at the same place -gave a first down. The open defence was showing -its weak side. Then they sought a hole outside -Bumpus, but Bumpus got free and threw -the runner into Talbot’s hands. Another dash at -centre yielded two yards, and with five to gain -Cowles punted. Mac took the ball safely on his -thirty-yard line, and sent Horr twice against the -Trowbridge right flank behind Eaton and Hardie, -each time gaining five yards; and Bradford once -just inside Harrison, who, tugging with Tracy -and supported by Talbot behind, dragged the -runner eight yards before the Trowbridge men -pulled him down. A tandem through right -guard yielded a first down. After that an end -run was blocked with the loss of a yard through -the quickness of the Trowbridge tackle, and Mac -decided to kick.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Pete’s punt, which was got off so quickly that -the defence was hardly ready for it, went diagonally -down the field, and, by rolling out at -the Trowbridge thirty-yard line, prevented any -running back. Trowbridge tried an end run -from a fake kick, but Harrison was not deceived, -and threw the runner behind the line. Then -recourse was had to punting once more, but the -back was slow in getting off his kick, and Bumpus, -who had slapped his way through the line and -leaped wildly in the air in the path of the ball, -took it on his chest and beat it down to the -ground. Three men threw themselves at it as it -struck, and buried it deep under struggling brown -bodies; but the one who lay closest to it, hugging -it ecstatically in his arms, proved to be the Westcott -left end.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The wave of the referee’s hand which moved -the measurers down was the signal for shrill -whoops from the excited band of youngsters in -the Westcott cheering section. Sumner on the -side-lines flung his arms about the coach in a -transport of delight.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Our ball on the fifteen-yard line!” he cried -jubilantly. “We’ve got ’em now!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Don’t be too sure,” answered Yards, who, -though just as eager, had himself under better -control. “It’s a hard fifteen yards to cover.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The players were in position now, nerved for -the great struggle. Behind their forwards, the -Trowbridge backs stood in a line of three. Each -linesman recognized that the success or failure -of the next play might depend on the quickness -with which he leaped. The signal which rang -out in Mac’s clear, sharp voice called for a tandem -play between left tackle and guard, with Talbot -carrying the ball. Eaton, straining to get the -jump on his antagonist, moved before the ball, -and was off side. The umpire blew his horn; the -referee counted back five yards; the lines formed -again.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“O dear!” groaned Sumner. “What’ll he do -now?—I believe he’s going to try a drop!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s a fake,” said Yards, composedly. “He’d -try another down if he meant to do that.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>McDowell was back holding out his hands, the -backs had taken the formation for interference. -Ford passed, but it was Talbot who received the -ball and made a short, quick kick over the right -side of the line. Harrison charged after it with -all his speed, but Ricker beat him in the sprint, -took the ball on the bounce, and ran round the -Westcott captain for a gain of fifteen yards before -Talbot forced him out of bounds.</p> - -<p class='c008'>From his chagrin at this failure Sumner was -aroused by a loud chuckle of mirth close behind -him. He glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes -met the exultant gaze of President John.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Wasted his chance,” remarked the dignitary, -with an oily grin of recognition. “I’m afraid -he won’t get another.” Sumner nodded and -moved down the line.</p> - -<p class='c008'>And now the Trowbridge men, taking courage -from their escape, began to put new life into their -play. Ricker shot through centre and squirmed -forward ten yards. His second attempt was -blocked by Ford and Channing after a short gain. -Then a trick was sprung; the guards, tackles, -and ends moved out suddenly six paces, leaving -the centre all alone before the ball, with a great -space on either side of him. The movement -was supposed first to confuse the enemy, then -to draw them out of position so as to leave a -big hole near the centre, or to furnish a close interference -for a run at end. But the Westcott rushers, -having had experience with this very play as -practiced by Sumner’s eleven, took it coolly as -a matter of course, went through evenly along -the line, and downed the dangerous Ricker before -he got well under way. On the third -down Trowbridge tried a forward pass on a -crisscross formation, but Horr blocked off the -end, and the ball, striking the ground, fell -once more to Westcott’s. McDowell wasted a -down in a fruitless effort to push Bradford -through centre, and Horr fumbled. Trowbridge -made seven yards and kicked, Talbot punted -back, and for ten minutes the play oscillated between -the thirty-yard lines.</p> - -<p class='c008'>At last—it seemed to Sumner that the half -must be nearly at an end—a rash attempt on -the part of Trowbridge to gain four yards after a -third down gave Westcott’s the ball fifty yards -from their opponents’ goal. Mac, who had by -this time “sized up” the Trowbridge defence, -now ceased experimenting, and applied his whole -mental power to the task of matching the strong -points of his team against the weaknesses of the -foe. On the defence, Trowbridge played the -centre in the line, with but a single line half-back. -The Westcott quarter brought his end over, and -drove his backs outside tackle and outside end, -now on the short side, now on the long, gaining -satisfactory distances at each stroke. Presently -a second Trowbridge back came up to support -the line, leaving the back-field clear. Mac recognized -this opportunity for a forward pass, and -seized it. Pete’s long spiral throw fell into Eaton’s -hands on the enemy’s twenty-yard line. It was -a close shave, for Cowles was upon him as he leaped -for the ball, but Eaton held it, though he was -thrown hard. A crash through centre, a skin-tackle -play, a split play on a delayed pass, and -Westcott’s brought up at the third down on the -Trowbridge thirteen-yard line with three yards -to gain, the enemy’s linesmen on their knees, and -their whole back-field pushed up to support them.</p> - -<p class='c008'>But two minutes remained. If the ball were -lost now, the opportunity to score would go. -Harrison shouted a signal from his end. McDowell -nodded, and fell back to a kicking position, -giving his signals clearly as he went.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Look out for an on-side kick!” yelled the Trowbridge -captain. “Get through on them now!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>While he spoke, the ball went back. The line -in the centre swerved, but held; the Trowbridge -ends, followed by the tackles, swooped down upon -the waiting quarter, but the Westcott backs -blocked them off from the danger zone. Mac -got his drop away safely, and, holding his breath, -watched the ball floating upward beyond the -reach of human hands. It crossed the bar three -feet inside the post.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The play during the rest of the half was comprehended -in two kicks. Trowbridge sent the -ball on the kick-off deep into Westcott territory; -and Talbot on the first down punted it far back.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Sumner, dancing with joy round Mike and the -water pail, found himself again in the presence of -the lord of the league.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What about that chance that wasn’t coming?” -he asked, with a sudden accession of friendliness.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The game isn’t over,” answered President -John, sourly. “A single touch-down will wipe -that gain out.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>At the dressing rooms the usual discussion of -the developments of the game was going forward. -The bedraggled players, their mud-streaked faces -aglow with hope, lay stretched on the floor about -the coach, listening eagerly to his last directions. -In one corner, Duane, of the Harvard Second, -was explaining to Bumpus how, by proper use of -his knee, he could hold Hubbard on the offence -at least a second longer. Yards, having finished -his general exhortation, drew McDowell aside -to talk over with him the strategy of the second -half, which was, in brief, to play safely, keep -the ball in opponents’ territory, and watch for -chances.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“If we hold them well, you’ll put in Sumner -at the last, won’t you?” Mac asked.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not with the score three to nothing,” answered -Yards, quickly.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“If we should make a touch-down, then?” -persisted Mac.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The coach hesitated a moment before replying, -but when he spoke, there was no uncertainty -in his words. “It wouldn’t be safe. Sumner is -a good fellow, and he’s worked hard for the team, -but we’re playing the game to win, not to give -good fellows a chance to make their W’s. I -sha’n’t take any risks.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The Westcott players trotted forth at the call, -determined to make at the outset such a show of -power and dash as would put Trowbridge immediately -on the defensive. The Trowbridge -rushers strung out across the field on a line with -the ball. Westcott’s took the usual defensive -positions, the centre ten yards back from the ball, -the guards flanking him, but behind, the tackles -outside the guards and still farther back. Cowles -ran forward for his kick-off, but instead of driving -the ball to the limit of his powers down the field, -he sent it with a little stab of his foot diagonally -across toward the side-line. It struck the line -outside the Westcott left guard. Bumpus, perplexed -at the unexpected play, hesitated a moment -before he leaped for the ball. His hesitation cost -his side dear, for two Trowbridge rushers crashed -into him before he had taken three steps, and the -Trowbridge end flung himself on the ball just -ahead of Eaton, who pounced upon him like a -wild beast upon his prey. Trowbridge had gained -the ball on Westcott’s forty-yard line!</p> - -<p class='c008'>Sumner’s heart was like lead, as he saw the -Trowbridge line open in wide gaps for a trick play. -If the Westcott rushers lost their heads now, there -was no hope for the team. But a line that sifts -evenly through, with each man keeping well -within his own territory, is a hard line to work -tricks upon; and a strong, aggressive tackle is a -dangerous obstacle to end plays. The Westcott -line did sift evenly through, and Eaton was a good -tackle—so good, indeed, that he burst straight -into the Trowbridge interference, and, hooking -the runner with a long reach, swung him directly -into Hardie’s arms. The next play, which was -directed at the open centre, was spoiled by -Bumpus, who burned to retrieve himself, before -it had advanced three yards. Then, with six -yards to gain, Cowles drew back for a kick.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Fake!” shouted Harrison. “Look out for a -forward pass!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>His warning proved false; it served only to -check his own line, and give Cowles a better opportunity -to get off his kick. He punted high -and with such splendid accuracy that the ball fell -at the Westcott six-yard line. McDowell stood -under it as it came down, holding his hand high -aloft and claiming the privilege of a fair catch. -All about him thronged the menacing Trowbridge -forwards, ready to seize the ball and carry it -across the line should Mac fail to hold it.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’m glad I’m not there!” thought the anxious -Sumner. “I’d fumble it sure! If it should slip -out of his hands, now—”</p> - -<p class='c008'>But it didn’t. As calmly as if he were in mid -field with no one near to disturb him, Mac gathered -in the descending ball and heeled his mark. -Twenty seconds later Pete’s long punt rolled out -at the Westcott forty-five-yard line.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Again Westcott’s held Trowbridge to a seven-yards -gain in two downs, and Trowbridge, as a -last resort, tried a complicated forward pass; -but Tracy worked through on the end who had -come round to make the pass, and threw him -before he could complete it. Now, for the first -time during the half, the Westcott lads took the -offence, though Mac still preferred to rely on -Talbot’s foot. Down sailed the ball to the Trowbridge -twenty-yard line, only to be kicked back -beyond the centre of the field a few minutes later. -Here for some minutes the play wavered within -the neutral zone. On the exchange of punts -there was little advantage except that gained by</p> - -<div id='i173' class='figcenter id008'> -<img src='images/i173.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic002'> -<p><span class='sc'>Swung him directly into Hardie’s arms.</span></p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>Hardie and Harrison as they dodged down the -field under the kicks, and nailed the receiver of -the ball at his first step; but on the rushes Westcott’s -covered more ground, and the play gradually -drew near the Trowbridge end of the field.</p> - -<p class='c008'>A series of successful line plunges had brought -the Westcott offence to the Trowbridge twenty-yard -line, when the referee announced at the -third down that four yards of the necessary ten -were still lacking. Mac conferred with Harrison, -and, falling back to the kicking position, knelt -at Talbot’s side. The quarter caught Ford’s -pass, but instead of placing the ball for a kick, -he waited until the Trowbridge men were sweeping -down upon him, when he passed to Talbot, who -threw the ball in a long spiral that bored its way -through the air far over the left side of the line. -Hardie was ready to receive it, and so was Ricker. -They came together with a shock, but Ricker -was short and Roger tall, and the Westcott man -clutched the ball over his rival’s head, as the -latter tumbled him to the ground. The eight -yards to the goal line Pete covered in two downs.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Sumner did not see the goal kicked; he was -coasting along the side-lines in search of his friend -Smith. He found him at last, just as the elevens -were changing ends, standing alone near the corner -of the field.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Great game, sir!” offered Sumner, politely.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I call it a very poor game,” answered President -John, staring straight before him. “That -Trowbridge line is rotten.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s hard to understand how they could beat -Newbury seventeen to three,” remarked Sumner, -cheerfully. “About time enough left for another -touch-down, isn’t there?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Smith made no reply to this question, unless a -scowl and an unintelligible exclamation could be -construed as a reply. But even thus Sumner -seemed to consider the conversation worth while, -for as he hurried back to the side of the Westcott -coach, he was bubbling with glee.</p> - -<p class='c008'>With the score nine to nothing and the game -nearly over, there seemed no serious doubt as to -the outcome. So thought Mac, at least, when -Harrison recovered the ball on a fumble near his -fifty-yard line, and Pete punted down close to the -Trowbridge goal. It was high time that Sumner -should appear if he was to be sent into the game -at all, but Yards made no move to send him. Mac -considered the matter at intervals, while he stood -far back waiting for his friends in the line to gain -possession of the ball. The result of his consideration -was to arouse in his mind the suspicion that -Yards was working, not for a safe victory, but -for a score which would leave no doubt as to the -success of his coaching.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Jack deserves a chance, and he is going to get -it!” muttered Mac to himself. “If it can’t -come one way, it shall another.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The Westcott defence had just thrown back -another attempt at a skin-tackle play, and Harrison -signalled to his quarter to be ready for a -kick. Mac was under the ball when it came down, -and slipping by the end, zigzagged a dozen yards -up the field before he succumbed to two hard -Trowbridge tacklers. Ford came puffing back and -took the ball from his hand; but Mac, instead of -scrambling to his feet and calling out his signals -as the team gathered, remained squirming on the -ground.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What’s the matter?” asked Harrison, anxiously, -as he knelt beside him.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“My right ankle!” groaned Mac, twisting his -face into an expression of frightful pain.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Time was called; Mike appeared with his water -pail and sponge, closely followed by Yards. Together -they rubbed the injured joint, while Mac -writhed and moaned.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How much time is left?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Three minutes.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ll see if I can stand.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Yards and Harrison lifted the sufferer to his -feet. He took a step with his right foot, rested -his weight on it,—and went down in a heap.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Do you think it’s broken?” asked the coach -in alarm.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I guess not,” replied Mac, transforming a grin -into a grimace, “but you’ll have to send Jack in.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Yards called for Sumner, and the maimed quarter -went hobbling off the field, supported by Yards -and Louis Tracy, and saluted by a booming salvo -from the graduates, and an impassioned cheer -from the schoolboy section. Yards proposed to -send him directly to the dressing rooms and call -in a physician, but Mac pleaded piteously to be -allowed to see the game out. So he stood at the -side-lines, leaning on Louis’s shoulder.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We should have made another touch-down if -you hadn’t got hurt,” said the coach, in a resentful -tone, as Horr at the first signal was pushed -through outside Ben Tracy for a gain of five yards. -“We had ’em on the run.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Jack will do just as well,” answered Mac, -calmly. “He’s better on the offence than I -am.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>In truth, Sumner had the advantage over Mac -in some respects. He was heavier, he got into -the plays better, and he profited by his close -study of the game from the side-lines. The team -reacted to a fresh voice, while Sumner’s strength, -applied at the critical instant, helped to break -the resistance and roll the wedge along. Outside -guard, outside tackle, around the end, changing -his attack from side to side, Sumner pushed his -backs to a first down, to another, to a third. -Then, when the Trowbridge secondary defence -concentrated close behind the line, he worked a -forward pass himself, running backward to make -sure of his throw, and delivering the ball safely -into Tracy’s hands. Westcott’s was on the Trowbridge -ten-yard line, pressing hotly forward, when -the referee’s whistle put an end to the game.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mac lingered on the side-lines, waiting for an -opportunity to congratulate Sumner on his playing. -As they walked together to the dressing -rooms, escorted by a half-dozen admiring youngsters, -the injured quarter forgot to limp. Close -by the entrance Yards accosted them.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You ran the team finely, Sumner,” he exclaimed, -with radiant face. Then, suddenly recalling -Mac’s misfortune, he turned upon him and -demanded, “How’s that ankle?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It seems all right now,” replied Mac, with an -abrupt lapse from his gayety.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Yards gave him a sharp glance, and his eyes -darkened ominously. “I believe you—” he -began, but the beseeching look on Mac’s face -checked him. “I’m glad it’s no worse,” he -finished lamely.</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch15' class='c006'>CHAPTER XV <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>DUNN’S DISAPPOINTMENTS</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>Jubilation</span> and swaggering self-satisfaction -reigned triumphant at Westcott’s Monday morning. -Certain small boys who had acquired a -habit of arriving half an hour before the time of -opening so as to have opportunity, before the -advent of interfering teachers, for tag through -the play room and up the stairs, found their -numbers doubled. Instead of scampering wildly -off like frolicsome kittens, they gathered in solid -clusters at their end of the big schoolroom and -exchanged opinions and reminiscences, sprinkling -their conversation richly with comments like -“Wasn’t it great when Mac made that goal!” -“Did you see Fat Bumpus slide on his nose?” -“I was dead scared that time when Trowbridge -got down to our ten-yard line!” “The paper -said—” “Papa thought—” and so on, in a -series that developed itself by arithmetical progression. -Richard Sumner, who had a gift for -drawing, spent ten minutes, hedged in by a semicircle -of admirers and supervised by Mike, in -chalking on the board a splendid figure of a -plunging half-back, armed cap-a-pie, which he -reproduced by memory from a magazine cover. -The breast of his player rampant he covered -with a huge W, and underneath he printed in neat -characters the score by games. When this was -done, Mike produced a list of an All-Triangular -eleven, which he had elaborated over Sunday, -and defended with a great show of expert knowledge -the right of seven Westcottites to a place -thereon.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Then the older boys came in a bunch, driven -in by the cold from the corner outside. They -took places in the alcove that commanded the -street, on watch for the members of the team as -they arrived. Each one as he appeared was -signalled at a distance, and hailed by name and -applause as he entered the room. Harrison, of -course, received a prolonged salvo, but Talbot, -Eaton, and Hardie were welcomed almost as -heartily, while Bumpus’s bruised face, and Mac’s -complacent grin, called forth a special demonstration. -Last of all Sumner was seen, hurrying -late across the street, and an original salutation -that would be sure to rattle him was suggested -by Wilmot—but the bell rang and spoiled it all.</p> - -<p class='c008'>At noon, by general agreement, ten minutes were -taken from recess and another ten from recitation,—a -phenomenal concession on the part of Mr. -Westcott,—speeches were made, and the school -cheered their throats and enthusiasm out. It was -a new experience for Roger Hardie to hear the -leader call his name, and to feel in the wholehearted -volley, to read in the enthusiastic faces -bent upon him, that he was accounted worthy -the gratitude of the school; and his content was -not lessened by the fact that he had gained his -place, against the general expectation, by his own -merit. Yet proudly happy though he was in the -consciousness of a certain success achieved, he -felt no temptation to that silly vanity which is too -often the result of public praise, and transforms a -reasonably attractive boy into a bumptious, -overweening cad. There was a reason for this, -other than natural modesty. Roger had conceived -a new ambition—to row on a school -crew. Here again he stood at the foot of a ladder. -To gain a place he must push ahead of a dozen -others whose experience gave them a right to -laugh at his pretensions.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn cheered with the rest, but every “rah” -which he forced himself to utter cost him as much -effort as a line of Virgil dug out with a vocabulary. -He had been badly frightened by the incident of -the Newbury protest. The upper school had held -him in a measure responsible for the false position -in which they found themselves—most unjustly, -Dunn maintained, since he had been but the -bearer of a message. Certain persons, more frank -than polite, had said unpleasant things in his -hearing; his closest friends had for a time been -cool toward him. When, with the decision of -the committee, the cloud passed, Dunn plucked -up spirit again, and for the last week of football -practice really tried hard to retrieve his reputation. -He succeeded so far, indeed, that Harrison -held out hopes to him of getting into the Trowbridge -game in the second half, if things went -well. But things did not go well, at least from -Dunn’s point of view, for at no time during the -game had Yards considered it safe to exchange -the steady, clear-headed, hard-tackling end for a -substitute of doubtful quality. So Dunn was left -minus the coveted W, and plus a strong conviction -that he had been ill-used. It was not easy -for him to forgive Hardie for robbing him of his -place and gaining the opportunity to achieve a -triumph which Dunn felt sure he could have -achieved just as well. Equally unpalatable was -the fact that Hardie seemed to be established on -good terms with the influential set, of which Talbot, -Sumner, Wilmot, and Trask formed the solid -centre. On the other hand, while there were -many whom Dunn called his friends, no one -showed any great liking for his society except Ben -Tracy and Stover, neither of whom was able to -help him along toward that popularity for which -his heart yearned. His poor recitation work also -seemed to count against him in this strange school -in which the boys actually held it the proper thing -to work on lessons, and while they pretended to -make light of low marks, at bottom despised a -numskull. Can we wonder, then, that the disdain -with which Dunn first regarded his quiet housemate, -Hardie, should have turned to envy?</p> - -<p class='c008'>That afternoon Roger went down town with -McDowell to buy their football hatbands—a -white background striped three times with blue, -the outer stripes wide, the inner one narrow. -McDowell took his hat off as they emerged from -the shop, and gave the new decoration a long -look of admiration, regardless of the jostling -crowd. “It’s not so pretty as the crew band -that Pete wears,” he said slowly, “but I’d a lot -rather have it. It means something.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“So does the crew mean something,” answered -Roger. “It means more than any band there is. -Only a few fellows can get it, and at least a dozen -can sport football bands.—Put on your dip, -you lunatic. They’ll think you’re crazy!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mac replaced his hat, pressing it down carefully -on his hair, and giving the brim a downward tilt. -“The second crew get bands if they win their -race,” he said; “that’s eight, and the two coxswains -make ten.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But they don’t all get crew W’s. Only five -fellows in the school have a right to them. I’d -rather wear a band as a member of the first crew, -if it were just one dirty yellow streak, than have -both baseball and football combined.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mac laughed. “Why don’t you, then? All -you have to do is to make the crew.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You can’t make the crew just by coming out -for it. You’ve got to know how to row, and it -takes lots of practice to learn. There isn’t any -chance for an inexperienced man, with six or -eight old fellows in school who have all had a year -or more of it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Isn’t there?” answered Mac, absently. He was -looking about him at the faces hurrying past, -wondering that no one seemed to mark the significant -symbol that he bore. Just then a small -boy in knickerbockers and light top-coat, wearing -a flat hat with white band edged with blue—the -regular Westcott hatband—appeared in -front of them. He caught sight of the new bands, -glanced at the faces below, smiled, and, stopping -short in the crowd, fixed his gaze upon them, revolving -in his tracks as they passed. Here was one -who knew the token.</p> - -<p class='c008'>It is ever thus. The small boy looks up with -veneration to the wearer of the school letter. -The school athlete admires the member of a freshman -team; the freshman adores the varsity captain -who has so long worn the stately letter that -it has quite lost its glamor. The varsity captain -thinks chiefly of the task which he has taken upon -his shoulders, and admires only some lucky captain -before him who won his race or his Yale game, -or some frail, pretty, unathletic girl whose weakness -her schoolboy brother flouts. So the chain -is looped.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Who was that?” asked Roger.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Stanley Hale,” answered Mac, with a grin. -“The football band is good enough for him.—But -why isn’t your chance for the crew as good as -any one’s? Pete’s a friend of yours.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s just it: for that reason he wouldn’t -put me on unless he had to. But what’s the use -of talking about it? I shall be lucky to get on -to the river at all.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>That night Louis Tracy appeared at the -dinner-table a little late. “Did you get your -bid for the Fridays, Ben?” he asked, turning -to his cousin as he unfolded his napkin. -“I’ve got one.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Ben nodded. “Mine came this afternoon.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I got mine this morning,” said Cable.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“So did I,” announced Roger, who was feeling -particularly happy. Talbot’s brother had procured -him a good seat for the Yale-Harvard game, -and Sumner had got his name put on the list for -the dancing class.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn looked up inquiringly. “What’s that?” -he demanded. “I didn’t get anything.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Just the Friday dancing class at the Crofton,” -said Ben, carelessly. “A good many of the fellows -go.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn pondered a few seconds, then blurted -out, “How do you get into the thing?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I was on the list last year,” replied Ben.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“So was I,” said Cable, answering a look from -Dunn.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“My Aunt Mary got me my invitation,” Louis -Tracy explained.</p> - -<p class='c008'>There was a moment of silence which to some -at the table seemed a bit awkward; but Dunn, -who was determined to probe the matter to the -bottom, pushed boldly on. “How did you work -it, Hardie?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Mine came through Mrs. Sumner. She is -one of the patronesses. Jack asked me last -week whether I’d like one, and I jumped at the -chance.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>At this point Mrs. Adams interposed a new -topic of conversation, and the tongues were soon -flying at the usual rate over a safe course; but -Dunn’s voice, commonly the loudest and most -insistent, was only heard when a question was put -directly to him. He ate his dinner in moody -silence, his face darkly clouded. In the middle -of dessert he excused himself, leaving the ice-cream -half eaten on his plate.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s tough on poor Jason to get left out of the -Fridays,” said Cable, as the door closed behind -him.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What in time did you want to bring it up -for?” exclaimed Ben, turning reproachfully on his -cousin.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I didn’t think about it,” answered Louis. -“Jason had no business butting in, anyway.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He’d have found out about it sooner or later,” -suggested Cable. “We were all as much at fault -as Louis.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Can’t you do something to help him out?” -asked Roger. “You might get him an invitation, -Ben, I should think.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, I can’t,” Ben answered impatiently. -“I don’t run the things, and none of my people -do, either.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Later in the evening Dunn came into Ben Tracy’s -room and sat down on the bed. “Say, Ben,” he -began, “can’t you help me to get an invitation -for that dancing class? I don’t care anything -about the dancing part of it, but it’s going to be -awfully disagreeable to hang round here all -winter and be the only fellow left out. I shall be -ashamed to live.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Ben didn’t answer. He knew very well that -if he took Dunn’s name to his Aunt Mary, she -would want to know all about the applicant, his -character, appearance, manners, habits, church -relations,—all about his father, mother, relatives, -acquaintances, ancestors, his father’s business -and his grandfather’s. And after her nephew -had undergone the cross-examination, she would -probably refuse to help him and admonish him to -avoid such associations.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You might try Mr. Westcott,” said Ben, -jumping at a stray idea, as Jason jumped at -answers in the history class. “He could get your -name on the list easily enough.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He wouldn’t do it if he could,” answered Dunn, -despondently. “He’s down on me and would be -glad of a chance to sting me and preach at me. -If your Aunt Mary can get one for Louis, she can -get one for me, too. Try her, won’t you? It’ll -be the greatest favor you could do me. I’ll pay -it back sometime, I swear I will. Say you will, -please!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Ben looked hard at the floor. He didn’t want -to say yes, and he hadn’t the heart to say no; -yet something he must say. He lifted his eyes -for a moment to Dunn’s pleading face.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ll see what I can do,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn leaped forward and gripped his hand. -“That’s the way to talk. You can fix it up all -right. I’ll make it good to you some day before -the year is out, ten times over!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn went back to his own room, leaving his -anxieties behind him. They had settled on unlucky -Ben, who brooded for a long time on the -best way to approach his hypercritical aunt. -When he crawled into bed at last, he was no -nearer a satisfactory conclusion than when Dunn -left him.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“If I ask her and she refuses, Jason will be worse -off than he is now,” he muttered to himself as -sleep crept over him. “I don’t know what to -do!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>He knew no better when he awoke the next -morning. As a result he did nothing at all, except -to pity himself as a victim of unkind fate.</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch16' class='c006'>CHAPTER XVI <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>MIKE ADVISES</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>The</span> next morning—it was the day for election -of a football captain—Roger found Pete and -Jack Sumner in the cloak-room talking earnestly -together. “I want to ask a favor of you fellows,” -he began, as soon as he caught sight of them. -“Everybody out at Adams’s has invitations to -the Fridays, except Dunn. He is awfully cut up -about it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I can’t help it,” said Talbot. “It isn’t my -fault if he doesn’t deserve any.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He’s no worse than Snobson and Newgeld,” -insisted Roger. “They both got in.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not with my help,” retorted Talbot. “What -are <i>you</i> bothering about it for? He wouldn’t -do it for you.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t care whether he would or not. It just -isn’t a fair deal to leave him out.” Roger turned -to Sumner. “There’s no use talking to Pete; -he’s nothing but a savage. You’ll get it for him, -Jack, won’t you? You can work your mother -for it. Think what it would be yourself to be -left out of a thing when all the others are in!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Think what it would be to be Dunn,” said -Pete; “that’s a much more horrible thought.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>But Sumner was a friendly soul. “If you’re -really set on it, I’ll see what I can do,” he said. -“I shouldn’t want him to commit suicide out at -Adams’s!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Sumner’s words were exactly those which Ben -Tracy had used to Dunn the evening before, but -his deeds, as will appear later, were wholly different.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Before the football meeting, Talbot suggested -that Horr deserved the captaincy, and would -perhaps make as good a captain as any one else. -Roger assented readily, and cast his vote in accordance -with Pete’s suggestion. With Harrison, -Eaton, Talbot, Sumner, and other boys of -the first class out, there was left little room for -choice. He had not thought of himself as a possible -candidate. When the votes were counted, -and the announcement was made that Horr had -eight votes, Hardie four, with one each for -McDowell and Ben Tracy, Roger felt grateful that -four fellows had thought so well of him as to give -him the compliment of their votes, but it did not -occur to him either to question the loyalty of -friends or to wonder why Horr should be preferred -before him.</p> - -<p class='c008'>A day or two later Dunn came to the dinner-table -beaming with joy, and slapped Ben Tracy -hard on the shoulder.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ve got it!” he announced jubilantly. “It’s -all right.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Got what?” asked Ben, staring blankly. -The face which for the last forty-eight hours had -reflected nothing but spleen now shone with -satisfaction.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn flourished a square white envelope. -“My invitation for the Fridays. It was just -delayed.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Good for you!” exclaimed Cable. “I congratulate -you,” purred Mrs. Adams. Hardie -smiled, but said nothing; Ben Tracy continued to -stare, puzzled to find that some good angel had -relieved him of his unwelcome task.</p> - -<p class='c008'>After dinner Dunn drew Ben into the corner -of the general room, and poured fervent expressions -of gratitude into his ear. “Talbot -and Hardie thought they were going to get -me stung,” he exclaimed, “but they didn’t succeed. -I had some friends myself! You’ve helped -me in this thing, all right, Benny, and I won’t -forget it!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I haven’t done anything,” protested Ben, -weakly, “at least nothing worth while.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s worth a lot to me. I’ll get even with -you for it some day,—and I’ll get even with -that sucker, Hardie, too; he’s put those fellows -against me.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn’s first step in getting even with Hardie -was taken that very evening, and the method of -it showed that some of Jason’s brain cells were -more highly developed than those on which he -relied in the preparation of lessons.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Just before bedtime he knocked at Roger’s -door. “Hello!” he cried, putting his head into -the room. “Will you give me a lift on this confounded -Virgil?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Certainly,” answered Roger. “Come in—. -Doesn’t your trot tell you about it?” he added -with a sly grin. Dunn still adhered to the theory -that the literal translation affords an excellent -short cut to proficiency in an ancient language. -The twenties and thirties that he received on -examinations were fully offset, Dunn maintained, -by the great success of his daily recitations. He -always knew what the Latin ought to say, anyway; -he never made any crazy blunders such as -Redfield perpetrated.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I can’t make connections with the trot in this -place,” answered Dunn, calmly, “and Ben can’t. -I don’t believe you can, either, if you did get -eighty on the exam.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger soon proved that he could—indeed, the -problem presented no difficulties except such as -Dunn’s stupidity had raised or his cunning invented. -Having thus paved the way for his -main business, Dunn leaned against the door-post, -and, holding a finger between the leaves of his -Virgil to strengthen the impression that he was -stopping casually on the way back to his interrupted -work, began to talk.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You didn’t get the captaincy, did you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger gave a good-natured little laugh. “No, I -didn’t, and I didn’t expect to.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You came mighty near it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Four votes out of fourteen—that’s not very -near.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t mean that. You know what I mean.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Hardie shook his head.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The day before the election it was all settled -that you were to get it. I heard so from McDowell -and Bumpus and two or three others. Then -something happened, and the vote went the other -way.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What happened?” Roger was listening -eagerly.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Talbot went against you and bulldozed ’em -into electing Horr. You know he’s always got -to have his way.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger smiled bravely. “He probably thought -Horr would make a better captain.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t know what he thought. I know what -he did. He pretends to be a friend of yours, too.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He <i>is</i> a friend,” said Roger, quickly.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The way he treated you didn’t look much like -it. Good night.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn returned to his room fairly well satisfied -with himself; he had given Hardie something to -think of that would take down his insufferable -conceit, a conceit which Dunn was convinced must -be the worse since it was masked by such a quiet -exterior.</p> - -<p class='c008'>In fact, if thinking was all Roger was expected -to do, Dunn’s mission of malice was wholly successful. -Roger did think, lying awake an hour -after he went to bed, and fighting vainly against -an insistent mental activity that would not be -cajoled by firm resolutions or new arrangements -of pillow; but the direction which his thoughts -took was different from what Jason had anticipated. -A week before, he would have ridiculed -the idea of his being made captain; his ambition -did not fly so high. Now, when the opportunity -had come and gone, when the honor which, it -seemed, had been almost within his reach, was -bestowed upon another, he understood how much -he should have prized it. Why had Talbot interfered -against him? Surely not from ill-will, -for the record of the season proved him as stanch -a friend as an insignificant new boy ever acquired; -nor from personal liking for Horr—they belonged -to wholly different sets in school. It must be, -then, that Pete regarded him as incompetent for -the position. Moreover, if Pete thought so, it -was probably true; he was just a meek, harmless, -flabby sort of fellow who happened to be able -to play a fair game at end, but wasn’t fit for -leadership! Dunn’s shot had wounded, but not -in the spot at which it was aimed. Hardie’s self-esteem -was hurt, not his trust in Pete.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The next morning he turned over the subject -again as he dressed. “Pete was right to think -as he did, and yet he was wrong,” he said to -himself. “I should have made just as good a -captain as Horr. The trouble with me is that -I’m always waiting for some one to recognize -me and push me forward. I haven’t confidence -enough in myself; there’s where I’ve got to change. -I can do things when I have to. Why do I always -act as if I couldn’t?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>He rode into town that morning with Mike. -Mike’s society was usually a pleasure. His mind -was always brimful of the present. He knew -exactly what he thought on all the matters that -entered into his experience, and exactly what he -wanted to do. Mike never hesitated through -bashfulness, nor wasted opportunities because of -lack of faith to accept them!</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You ought to have been football captain,” -declared Mike, as they stood on the back platform -of a crowded in-bound car. “You’d make -a lot better one than Horr. Horr really doesn’t -know the game. I told Pete Talbot so, too. -They needn’t think that because you’re quiet, -you haven’t any push in you. I know better!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Thank you for your good opinion, Mike,” -returned the smiling Hardie. “What did Pete -do, fire you out?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No, he said he didn’t know but I was right. -It ’ud have been fine to have a captain at Adams’s. -We haven’t had one since I’ve been in school. -There’s no one else there who’ll ever come near -it.” He stopped, and a sudden gleam flashed over -his face. “I’ll tell you what to do,” he exclaimed, -“make the crew and be crew captain. That’ll -be better yet!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger laughed aloud. “Make the Harvard -Varsity, why don’t you say? I may make the -pair-oar if I’m lucky.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’ll never make anything if you talk like -that,” answered shrewd Mike. “You’re as bad -as Jason, only the other way round. Jason thinks -he’s everything when he isn’t anything, and you -tell people you aren’t anything, and they believe -you! You tell it and act it both. That’s not -the way to do.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>And Hardie, being an open-minded youth, -accepted this wisdom from the lips of a babe, and -resolved immediately that he wouldn’t act the -incapable any more, even if he must needs remain -such. He didn’t tell Mike so, however; that -would be throwing improper encouragement to -small boys who criticised their betters. Instead, -he gave a sudden jerk to the visor of the boy’s -cap that brought it forward on his nose, and said -reprovingly: “There’s one thing certain, Mike, -<i>you’ll</i> never suffer from over-modesty. Now don’t -say anything more about the football captain. -Horr’s elected, and we’re all going to help him the -best we can.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Sure!” answered Mike, as he calmly restored -his cap to the proper place. “Don’t you suppose -I know enough for that? I wouldn’t say what I -did to any one but you.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn went to his first Friday in high feather, -picturing to himself in advance the conquests he -should make. Dancing, he felt, was his strong -point. But Trask and Wilmot, the head ushers -for the day, had laid strict commands on their -subordinates, and Jason was introduced to none -but “pills.” He did not suspect this fact until -the afternoon was two-thirds gone, when after -beseeching three ushers in succession to present -him to Molly Randolph, a much talked-of “queen,” -and being put off with flimsy pretexts, he at last -discovered that there was a plot against his -dignity. After that he sulked in the corner to -which ungallant youths retired when the attractive -partners were taken and only pills remained -disengaged. Hardie, blest beyond his deserts, -made the acquaintance of numerous favorites -and danced the german with Helen Talbot, who -amused him with a vivacious narrative of certain -disputes with Joe, in which, with the help of her -older brother, she came out victorious. Miss -Helen vanquished Roger also, for she got him -to promise her a football hatband, which, as she -frankly confessed, “Joe would never give me in the -world.”</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch17' class='c006'>CHAPTER XVII <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>A KINDLED AMBITION</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>Westcott’s</span> was in some ways a bit old-fashioned. -Holidays were grudgingly given, visitors -were not suffered to intrude on recitations, -and every school day was made a working day, -with enforced privileges on Saturdays if the week’s -work was not satisfactorily done. Scholastic -flummery, the advertising quackery of shows and -visitors’ days and special programmes, found no -favor with the authorities. If any exception is -to be made to this general rule, it must apply to -the day on which school closed for the Christmas -holidays, when for half an hour at the close of -recitations the boys themselves took charge of -the schoolroom, and celebrated in their own way -their approaching liberty and their loyalty to the -school.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Even here the programme was very simple. -When the twelve o’clock gong sounded, the whole -school assembled in the big room. Old Westcottites -from college poured in, thronging the -wide doorway of the library, and circling the end -of the schoolroom in a long line. A representative -of the first class came forward, and in a little -speech, delivered usually with a flushed face and -in a faint, agitated voice, presented to the school -a gift which should be a permanent reminder of -the affection and esteem of the outgoing class. -Mr. Westcott then made a response, which was -followed sometimes by a few words from some -teacher. After this various boys chosen from the -managing class stepped forward and led cheers -for the school, for the individual teachers, and for -the athletic teams. Then old boys, if any were -bold enough, or unable to resist the pressure put -upon them, took their turn, and exhorted the -school or praised it, as inspiration (or their confusion) -led them. No boy who was present on -the day when three captains of Harvard teams -and two class-day marshals—all old Westcottites—followed -each other to the platform, will soon -forget the impression made by those stalwart -figures, intelligent faces, and sincere if inartistic -speeches. Not the bishop nor the learned professor -nor the governor himself could so stir the -hearts of the school. These college men were -authorities, men who had achieved, heroes within -the range of every boy’s admiration.</p> - -<p class='c008'>This year, only one of these representatives from -the upper world was booked to address the school, -but as he was no less a personage than captain -of the Varsity crew, he counted in general estimation -tenfold. Roger Hardie, being in the second -class, played spectator and common soldier in -the cheering battalion. Mr. Westcott’s speech -and Mr. Cary’s left him rather cold; he had heard -these gentlemen many times before in various -forms of discourse from cautious praise to unreserved -condemnation. But when Deering was demanded, -and in response a tall, broad-shouldered, -deep-chested, bronzed young man emerged from -the library and pushed forward through a tumult -of welcome, Roger’s heart leaped to greet him.</p> - -<p class='c008'>For half a minute Deering stood with his hand -on the desk, waiting for the din to subside. Roger -fixed his eyes upon him, and in an intense stare -drank in an impression of the man. He was -quietly dressed, his necktie subdued, his trousers—Dunn -might perhaps have noticed—not -absolutely fresh from the tailor’s goose. But -Deering was one for whom clothes could do little. -Such bigness, honesty, cleanness, determination, -and withal such fresh unconquerable strength -of youth, no smart costume could adorn. In some -manner he suggested Talbot—Talbot as he might -be four years hence, when his body had reached -its growth and the maturing influences of college -life had tamed his explosive violence.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Deering’s speech was addressed to the first -class. When the boys before him reached college, -he said, they would find certain men doing all -sorts of things that they’d better not be doing, -wasting their money and time and strength, and -thinking that they were cutting a great figure. -There were plenty of such fellows hanging round -the college, who were of no use to the college or to -themselves. They make a great mistake. No -one cares anything about them, and they don’t -make good. The fellow who has principles and -tries to live up to them, who is willing to work -hard and keep faced in the right direction, is the -man who is respected, whether he makes a -name for himself or not.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’ve got to mean right and work right,” -he said in closing. “You can’t mean right unless -you have principles to follow, and the only way -to work right is to work hard. Here in school -is the place to make a good start. I don’t need -to say anything about your studies, for your -teachers will see to that, but in your athletics, -unless there’s been a big change since my day, -there’s room for improvement. You want to -play fair and play like gentlemen, but play hard. -Give the best of yourselves to your practice as -well as to your matches. Don’t fool, and don’t -shirk, and don’t quit. And when you come to -college, don’t let any one persuade you that the -ideals and moral standards you’ve learned here -will have to be changed.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Had the Boylston Professor of Rhetoric from -across the Charles been present in the Westcott -schoolroom that morning, he would have listened -patronizingly and given the speaker a passing -grade in consideration of his earnestness and good -intentions. Had the professor spoken in Deering’s -place, the boys would have closed their ears to his -careful sentences and mentally marked him F—flat -failure. They voted Deering A, and after -their reserved fashion, assented to his maxims -and treasured up his words. Even Dunn had -visions of a time coming—in the dim future, -of course—when he should throw off his indolence -and self-indulgence, be a “good boy” -and a grind, work like a Trojan in school and out, -and win back the ground that he had lost. When -it came to baseball, he could show them a few -things!</p> - -<p class='c008'>As for Roger Hardie, Deering’s exhortation, -and even more Deering’s personality, was as a -match applied to tinder. His zeal took fire immediately. -If the rowing men were like Deering, -if rowing made such men, rowing was the thing -for him! If honest, serious work profited at all -in this untried sport in which experience was held -to be so important, Roger would give that work -ungrudgingly as long as his presence was tolerated -on the squad. This resolve sent him to the -gymnasium to exercise every day during the -Christmas recess, when, save for himself and Mike -and two smaller urchins, Adams’s was bereft of -boys. It forced him to look upon himself as, -in a fashion, consecrated to a special ambition, -none the less wholesome and potent because -cherished in secret. It made it easier for him to -keep faith with his parents and his own conscience -in the presence of the insidious temptations to -which he, in common with all boys of his age, was -subjected.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The tide of boys flooded back to school on the -second of January, noisy with reminiscences of -good times enjoyed. Talbot came from a camp -on the shore of Cape Cod, where he had been -shooting with Trask; Ben Tracy from Montreal. -Dunn had spent his freedom in New York, where -he had “been to something every night and had -the highest old kind of a time.” The anecdotes -of his experiences furnished him amusement for -a week; his listeners tired of them in a much -shorter time. Aside from these anecdotes, Dunn -brought back little that was new from his vacation, -certainly nothing so beneficial to himself or the -school as an earnest purpose. He continued to -slide downhill with careless content, finding -specious excuses to present to teachers for classroom -failures, and flattering himself that he was -playing a grand rôle in the eyes of his mates as -a jaunty, devil-may-care loafer.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The winter term in all schools is sacred to work. -The boys at Westcott’s, under pressure at home -and in school, on the whole did their full stint -with faithfulness and good-will. But there was -no lack of distraction abroad or fun at school. -Outside were the official amusements at Adams’s, -skating at the Country Club, occasional dancing -parties, lectures for the intellectual, theatre for -the frivolous, and jolly visiting among friends for -all. At school, some petty excitement was always -to be found. A lively recitation has its interest -for a keen-witted boy, especially if it exhibits a -Dunn trying to palm off an old excuse or a Redfield -to originate a new blunder. Some one was -usually in trouble, and the trouble of a school-mate, -if not too serious, is always interesting to -the bystanders. And there were occasions when -the amusement was not wholly innocent.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The great fault with the Westcott lads was their -thoughtlessness. They had never known the -sting of poverty, nor suffered from the want of -anything which it was at all desirable that they -should have. Some of them had feeble sense of -the sacredness of property; a thing that could -be bought by a small requisition on their pocket-money -possessed in their eyes slight value. When -Wilmot unscrewed an electric-light bulb in the -lower hall and flung it the whole length of the -play room to smash into a hundred pieces against -the brick wall, he was simply yielding to a reckless -impulse of fun. He would have taken his -punishment without complaint if he had been -caught, and he would have confessed the deed -honestly if he had been questioned; but he had -no idea that he was stealing. When Cable dropped -a new stiff hat at the cloak-room door, and half -a dozen rascals immediately kicked it into tatters, -they thought they were having fun with Cable—until -after an interview with Mr. Westcott. If -a book was left about the halls,—the owner had -no business to drop his books around,—some one -was quite likely to use it as a missile on his way -out. Talbot and Hardie and Harrison and others -of the older boys regarded such an act as “kiddish”; -Wilmot would commit it because of uncontrolled -recklessness, Dunn because he was a -fool.</p> - -<p class='c008'>It was the laboratory at the top of the building -that offered to heedless spirits the greatest temptation. -Here both the chemistry and the physics -classes performed their experiments and made -their recitations. Mr. Cary, the instructor, was -neither incompetent nor a weakling; but he -couldn’t be in the laboratory all the time nor in -all parts of it at the same time. Interesting experiments -were tried that had no place in the -text-book. For two weeks a jar hidden in the -corner served as a receptacle for odds and ends of -chemicals, and was visited surreptitiously every -day by various members of the class, curious to -see what new color it had taken on. Reeves discovered -that a cent could be silvered by dipping -it in nitric acid, then in mercury, and then, for -an instant, in the acid again. Thereupon a mania -for silvering objects suddenly developed which -had to be repressed by official order. With a -piece of glass tubing drawn to a point and attached -by a rubber hose to a faucet, Trask found -that he could throw a fine jet of water to a considerable -distance. He used to train this with -great effect on persons standing yards away, the -spray being invisible but very distinctly felt. -It struck Hardie one day in the back of the neck -just above his collar, as he was standing beside -Mr. Cary’s desk. He couldn’t turn round or dodge -the stream, for Mr. Cary was looking over his note-book, -and any movement would have betrayed -the offenders. So he stood helpless, furtively -swabbing with his handkerchief at the back of -his head, but failing with all his efforts to dam -the stream that trickled down his back.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Impunity encourages. One day at recess, some -scapegrace made an obnoxious mixture in an open -dish by means of iron sulphide and hydrochloric -acid, and fled for his life, leaving the laboratory -door open. The fumes descended the stairways -and reached the noses of innocent sufferers below. -Mr. Westcott and Mr. Cary arrived at the laboratory -simultaneously, hot on the scent, and took -counsel together. Later in the day Mr. Westcott -called the laboratory classes into his room and -demanded the culprit. No one volunteering, he -explained the danger and wrong of fooling in the -laboratory, and declared that he should punish -severely any further misdemeanor, even if it were -necessary to inflict the penalty on the whole class.</p> - -<p class='c008'>As Mr. Westcott was not given to idle threats, -there was seriousness on the top floor—for a -time.</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch18' class='c006'>CHAPTER XVIII <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>THE SHOOTING MATCH</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>Saturdays</span> Roger usually had to himself. -On these days he took advantage of his freedom -to visit the library or a museum, or strolled about -the city, entertaining himself with the shop windows -and the mob of bargain-hunters. Occasionally -he hunted up some landmark of history -which appealed to his interest, turning aside on -the way for a glimpse of the waterside or the -markets or the queer foreign quarter where the -native-born American feels himself a trespasser -and is grateful for the presence of a policeman a -block away. As he was new to the fascinating -variety of city scenes, his attention was often -caught by objects which his town-bred companions -passed without noticing, either because they -lacked curiosity, or because familiarity with city -streets had made them indifferent.</p> - -<p class='c008'>On two or three occasions, while traversing an -irregular old square, Roger had noticed a second-story -sign bearing the words: “Professor Pillar, -Magicians’ Supplies and Novelties. Outfits for -Professionals and Amateurs. Come In and See -Us.” One morning in February he decided to -accept this invitation. He found himself in a -little dusty room packed full of juggler’s paraphernalia. -A friendly old man with very nimble -fingers greeted him warmly, and pressed upon him -various tricks and trinkets with such persuasiveness -that Roger left the wizard’s cave poorer by -a dollar and a half, and richer by a variety of queer -acquisitions.</p> - -<p class='c008'>When he reached his room, he spread out his -purchases on the desk before him and assured -himself with some heat that it was unquestionably -true that a fool and his money are soon -parted. While he was thus making himself uncomfortable -with reproaches, Mike happened in -and became enthusiastic over the collection.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ll sell them to you,” offered Roger.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mike considered. “How much?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Just what I gave for them.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You wouldn’t do that unless you wanted to -get rid of ’em,” remarked Mike, shrewdly. “I’ll -give you a dollar for the lot.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The haggling spun itself out to a length which -would prove tedious to the reader if the conversation -were reported in detail. The upshot -of it all was that Roger reserved two articles -from the collection, and sold the balance to Mike -for the sum which the latter had first offered.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Now what are you going to do with them?” -asked Roger, when the dollar had been paid and -the goods delivered.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ll tell you,” returned Mike, proudly, “but -you must keep it to yourself and not bring in -anything more to spoil the market. I’m going -to show one of ’em downstairs when there are a -lot of kids around, and then auction the thing off. -After a few days I’ll bring out another and auction -that off, and so on, till they’re all gone. If I -don’t make fifty per cent on the trade, I’ll give -you back your money.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>It took Mike three weeks, we may add in dismissing -the incident, to carry out his programme, -but in the end he got back his dollar, together with -a clear profit of seventy-one cents.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Among the objects which had caught Roger’s -eye at the juggler’s were so-called “shooting -matches,” which came in little boxes like those -which contain safety matches. In appearance -they resembled cigar lighters, with a smooth -brown coating running up two-thirds of an inch -from the tip; in action their vigor was such as -to fill the heart of a non-possessor with envy. -If you held one in your hand after the first flare -of ignition, you got a very pretty series of tiny -explosions that gave you a pleasant little thrill, -and to the ignorant onlooker an amusing little -shock. If the ignorant onlooker could be beguiled -to strike one himself before he saw any of -its fellows at work, he furnished you pleasanter -thrills by dropping his match in a panic at the -first pop and jumping about delightfully as it -finished its performance on the floor.</p> - -<p class='c008'>In his deal with Mike, Roger reserved two boxes -of these fireworks, meaning to exhibit them at -the next afternoon gathering in Trask’s roof -chamber, where special cronies occasionally assembled -on Trask’s invitation and amused themselves -with jokes and gossip. Here, if the truth -is to be told, some boys smoked a little,—as a -rule smoking was considered not the thing at -Westcott’s,—and it would be a great joy to offer -the innocent brown-tipped object to the desperate -character who announced that he was going to -try a pipe. On this occasion Wilmot was one of -the first to arrive and the first to be tricked; -afterwards he became a leader in entrapping the -others. As smokers were few, non-smokers had -to be drawn on; they were beguiled with invitations -to light papers in the fireplace. Talbot, -who appeared late and found a circle of ten eager -to see him light a match, became suspicious and -declined the privilege. “Light it yourself, if -you want it lighted!” he said grimly. “What’s -the good of doing it, anyway?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Just for the fun,” pleaded Wilmot. “You -needn’t be scared; it won’t hurt you.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We all did it, and you’ve got to,” announced -Trask. “If you don’t, you’ll have to smoke a big -cigar.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’ll take more than this bunch to make me do -that,” answered Pete, looking round in smiling -defiance. “I’m no cigarette sucker!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He’s trying to get out of it!” declared Wilmot, -triumphantly. “A football player and captain -of the crew hasn’t the sand to light a piece of -paper!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He’s just contrary-minded, that’s all,” Sumner -threw in. “He won’t do it because we want him -to.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh, if you want me to, that’s different,” answered -Pete. “Anything to oblige such dear -friends. Only I won’t take Steve’s match; he’s -too forward. Here, Roger, give me one. I’ll -trust you.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger drew out his second box, took a match -from it, and handed both to Talbot. Pete -stooped to perform the task expected of him, -read the inscription on the box, and decided instantly -on the course to be pursued. At the first -explosion he whirled about with the sputtering -thing in his hand and plunged toward Wilmot, -who sprang away from him with a yell of -fright.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Aha!” cried Talbot, dramatically, as he threw -the spent match into the fireplace, “who’s the -sandless one now? He’s afraid of his own innocent -little matches!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They aren’t mine,” replied Wilmot, a little -rattled by the fact that the laugh had turned -against him. “They belong to Hardie, and he -won’t tell where he got ’em.” This last statement -was added in the hope that it might lead the -conversation away from his own discomfiture. -“Did you ever know such a hog?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Let him discover the place himself, as I did,” -protested Roger. “He’s lived in the city all his -life.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Don’t tell him,” advised Talbot. “He’s -better off without ’em.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>And then the whole company fell to questioning -Roger, as in a game, concerning the kind of -shop at which the matches were procured. He -answered all questions truthfully, though insulting -doubts as to his honesty were cried aloud -before the end of the list was reached, a list -which began with possibilities such as groceries, -drug stores, cigar stands, news stands, street -fakirs, toy-shops; proceeded with dealers in firearms, -fireworks, sporting goods—and tailed out -into the most idiotic suggestions that foolish -brains could originate. Wilmot capped the climax -by declaring that it was from a school-supply house -that the matches came. “They’re for use in -school,” he shouted with glee; “that’s what they’re -for!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Hardie laughed and shook his head.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Then Wilmot started on a new course, and -pleaded for a few out of the new box.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’ve got a whole boxful, and I’ve only one -left,” he urged. “Go halves, and I won’t call -you a hog any more.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>But Hardie was still obdurate. “Children -shouldn’t have matches,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Wilmot turned away in disgust. “You’re -worse than a hog, you’re a whole drove of swine! -I wouldn’t look over the edge of the sty at you!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The next morning Roger relented. He didn’t -feel at all sure that Wilmot was to be trusted with -tools of such potential power for disturbance; -but like all right-minded boys, he hated to be considered -stingy. He hunted up Wilmot as soon as -he reached school the next morning and reopened -the case.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Do you still want those things, Steve?” he -asked.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Sure I do,” answered Wilmot, promptly. “I -think you might at least tell me where you got -’em.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, you can have my box. Only you must -be careful with them.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Wilmot pocketed the box with alacrity. “I’ll -be careful, all right. You don’t suppose I’d set -the building on fire, do you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No, not that! You don’t have to do that -to get into trouble.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You needn’t worry. I’m not looking for -trouble.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Wilmot never was looking for trouble; he had -no need to do so, as it had a habit of coming to -him unsought. The caution, too, which he had -promised to exercise, was rather of a wily than -a practical character, as was demonstrated by -his conduct when he reached the laboratory -that morning. Six or eight fellows were already -there waiting for the new experiment to be announced; -Mr. Cary was still on the stairs; and -Redfield and a few others had gone down for -books.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ve got Hardie’s matches!” Wilmot called -eagerly to the waiting audience, “and I’m going -to put ’em in the back part of my drawer. -If any fellow should happen to take one out, -break off the end, and put it into Reddy’s sand -bath, why, I shouldn’t know anything about it. -See?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“None of it for me,” remarked Trask. “I’m -not going to run my head into any noose.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You haven’t the nerve,” said Wilmot.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Neither have you, or you’d do it yourself!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Cary now appeared with the laggards, and -the class was soon set to work. On one boy -Wilmot’s short address made a deeper impression -than the directions of the teacher. Dunn -had long been casting about for some easy means -of raising himself in the popular esteem. While -he felt no doubt that his true worth must appear -as soon as the baseball season began, he was unwilling -that this recognition should be postponed -to so late a day if he could achieve it earlier. -Here was an opportunity to take a long step forward -by accepting the general challenge which -Wilmot had issued, and proving himself a bold -fellow when Trask had acknowledged that he -did not dare and Wilmot himself hung back.</p> - -<p class='c008'>A sand bath, as most of my readers know, is -a bowl-shaped vessel filled with sand in which -fragile glass flasks are placed in order to insure -an even heat. A bunsen burner under the sand -bath heats the sand, and, through the sand, the -flask and its contents. Redfield had just lighted -his burner and was busy weighing out his chemicals. -Dunn passed behind him, and directing his -attention to something across the room, tucked -a match-end into the sand in Redfield’s bath -and went on to his own table. Scarcely three -minutes had elapsed when the half-dozen lads -who had been watching furtively over their work -heard a slight explosion, followed immediately -by an exclamation from Redfield, who went -crashing back on the row of tables behind. At -the same time they beheld a small geyser of popping -sand spurt into the air and descend in a -shower about the burner.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Cary rushed to the spot, likewise all the -boys, both those who were in the secret and -those who were not. “Go back to your work!” -ordered the teacher, and the boys slunk away, -though not beyond earshot. “What’s this, Redfield?” -he asked sharply.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The victim of the explosion, having recovered -from his fright, stood giggling with nervousness. -“My sand blew up, sir,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Do you know what made it do so?” demanded -Mr. Cary, sternly.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No, sir. I was standing right here waiting -for the thing to heat. It went off all of a sudden, -right up in the air, and kept snappin’ all the way -up.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And you know absolutely nothing more about -it?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not a thing!” answered Redfield, with evident -honesty. “I wouldn’t blow myself up if I could -help it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>There seemed no reason to doubt the truth of -Redfield’s statements; he was not only incapable -of skilful dissembling, but also, as was generally -known, a favorite target for heartless schoolboy -pleasantry. Mr. Cary, therefore, asked no further -questions, but turned off the gas from the burner, -and dumping out the smoking sand poked it -over in search of clews to the explosion—to the -great delight of the half-dozen unworthies who -were in the secret. Finding nothing, he bade -Redfield start again with fresh sand, and returned -to his desk.</p> - -<p class='c008'>A half-hour later Fluffy Dobbs’s mess blew up -in the same way. This time the instructor, being -hardly a dozen feet away, caught the full effect. -He came directly to the smoking bath, but though -his face blazed with indignation, he was too wise -to embark on an interrogation which was unlikely -to yield positive results.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Don’t you think something is the matter with -the sand, sir?” asked Wilmot, innocently. “Perhaps -there’s nitre in it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It isn’t likely.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Can this have anything to do with it?” suggested -Wilmot, offering a charred bit of wood -which he had picked up from the floor. The instructor -took it, smelled of it, and shook his -head. “I don’t know,” he said. “If these -explosions are due to the sand, it is a remarkable -occurrence. If they were deliberately -caused, it is a very dangerous and culpable -form of joke. We shall take only one experiment -to-day. As soon as you have finished with -that, you may go.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Cary stood close to Wilmot’s desk during -the rest of the exercise, either because it was in a -central position or because he saw in the disturbance -the fine Italian hand of that young gentleman. -One awkward result for Wilmot was that, -not daring to take the match-box from his drawer -in the presence of the teacher, he was obliged to -leave it behind when he went. Dunn, too, made -a misplay. He had used two of the three matches -taken from Wilmot’s box on Redfield and Dobbs; -not knowing what to do with the third, he broke -off the end and poked it into the bag of fresh sand -which stood at the end of his table.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The first thing Mr. Cary did after the boys had -left the laboratory was to examine the sand in -the bag. At the very top, like Benjamin’s cup -hidden in the mouth of the sack, he found the -match-end which Dunn had placed there. He -compared this with the charred piece picked up -by Wilmot. Over these he mused a few minutes; -then, with the instinct which sends the police, -after an important break, to the haunts of certain -well-known criminals, he went straight to Wilmot’s -drawer. There, under the soiled laboratory coat, -he discovered the fatal box. He broke off a -match-head, put it into a sand bath, and in five -minutes had an explosion of his own. After that -he gathered up his exhibits and hied him to Mr. -Westcott’s office.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The laboratory excitement furnished a topic -of deep interest to certain groups during the lunch -hour. Dunn, who was sure that he had made a -hit, talked largely of his achievement. Wilmot, -though pleased with the unexpectedly full success -of his idea, was a little worried that he had been -forced to leave his treasure in the laboratory. -It wouldn’t do to use the thing too often, and Dunn -was capable of firing off all the precious matches -in a day. By the end of recess, largely through -Dunn’s enthusiastic narratives, the incident had -been aired among the older boys. Towards two -o’clock word came to Wilmot that he was wanted -in the head-master’s office.</p> - -<p class='c008'>What happened in the half-hour during which -Wilmot was closeted with Mr. Westcott was never -fully known to the boys. Steve spoke of it very -unwillingly, and his memory of such scenes was -never good. The instant he saw the fatal box -of shooting matches on the table before him, he -knew that it was all up with him, and his only -course was to obtain the best terms of surrender -possible. The terms were hard. He was suspended -from school for a week. His parents -were to be notified; he was to make up all lost -lessons at home with a tutor; the school was to -be informed of the misdeed and the penalty; he -was not to return to the chemistry class unless -Mr. Cary expressed a desire to give him another -trial. Against the suspension Steve pleaded -piteously; he would copy thousands of lines, stay -after school hours every day, apologize to anybody -and everybody,—if only the message didn’t go -home. But Mr. Westcott was inexorable; the -letter was posted that very afternoon.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The next day was a bitter one for Steve Wilmot. -Immediately after breakfast his mother retired -to the privacy of her chamber to weep; his father -paced the library for some time before he could -calm himself sufficiently to give the boy a hearing. -It was not the first occasion on which Steve had -brought unhappiness upon his family. From -the day when he began to walk he had been -blundering into scrapes. He had been dealt -with by all recognized methods of discipline. -Severe punishment, denunciation, threats, gentle -remonstrance, pleading, exhortation, loss of allowance—none -had prevailed to change his -nature. A psychological expert had once declared -that since Steve’s escapades were mere boyish -tricks without malice, they would be outgrown -in time. The hope born of this assurance had carried -the parents over such shocks as the visit of -policemen to warn against trespassing in the -public garden, or an indignant letter from a good -lady whose cat Steve had snowballed as the dear -animal was taking an innocent walk on the alley -fence. Now it appeared that their hope had -been a delusion, for suspension from school was a -humiliation which the family had hitherto been -spared. Mr. Wilmot talked gravely about putting -the young man to work, but he didn’t mean it. -In the end, he accepted Steve’s promise that he -would walk circumspectly hereafter all the days -of his life. Mrs. Wilmot also found comfort in -the reflection that Steve was at bottom neither -dishonest nor vicious, and that the salutary effect -of the lesson might be expected to outlast the -four remaining months of his school career. After -all, he might have done worse things than carry -shooting matches into a school laboratory. So -she dried her tears and hoped again.</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch19' class='c006'>CHAPTER XIX <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>A LOSS TO THE NINE</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>Meantime</span> the school had heard the proclamation -of the sin and its punishment, and looked -upon Wilmot’s vacant seat. The exile was missed. -Dunn chuckled ecstatically over the amusing fact -that the official lightning had passed by the -bold man of action and struck the crafty suggester. -His merriment was coldly received.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’d better shut up, Jason,” said Trask, -roughly. “Any fool can stick a match into a -sand box when he’s given the match and told how -to do it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And no one but a fool would have put that -one into the bag,” declared Eaton. “I believe -that’s what gave poor Steve away.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s right,” said Sumner, in confirmation. -“And Steve said one, not three. If only one had -gone off, Cary wouldn’t have suspected anything, -and Steve wouldn’t have got stung. You gave -the thing dead away.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn, who had by this time lost all pride in his -handiwork, glowered across the table. “If he -was afraid of getting stung, he ought to have kept -clear of the thing altogether,” he growled. “He -took his risk, and I took mine. It isn’t my fault -if he left his matches in the drawer!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He wouldn’t have left them there if Cary -hadn’t forced him to, and Cary wouldn’t have -been standing over him if you hadn’t tried to burn -the whole box at once.” This, from Trask, was -but a repetition of Sumner’s argument.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You both ought to be spanked,” remarked -Talbot. “It isn’t fair that one should be soaked -and the other not.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Would you have me go to Westcott and say, -‘I’m guilty, please sting me too?’ I see myself doing -that!” Dunn gave a derisive laugh at the idea.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No one who knows you would expect that of -you,” replied Talbot, significantly. “It wouldn’t -do any good, either. Hardie tried to help Steve -out by confessing that he brought the matches -to school and offering to take part of the punishment, -but it wouldn’t go.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn sniffed his contempt. “And old Westcott -soaked him for it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No!” answered Talbot, shortly. “He isn’t -that kind of a man.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>After this conversation Dunn avoided all reference -to the laboratory incident, and would have -been glad to have the others forget it, but they -continued to regard him as responsible for Wilmot’s -misfortune, and withdrew their favor from him. -Those were unpleasant days for Archibald Dunn; no -one at Adams’s would have much to do with him, -and the conviction, in part justified, that he was not -receiving from the boys a fair deal kept him -morose and sulky. Moreover, frank letters -concerning his work were going home to his -parents, which served to plunge him more -deeply in trouble. Having shirked and trifled -so long, he was well-nigh incapable of doing -anything else.</p> - -<p class='c008'>About the time of Wilmot’s return to school, -Talbot called out the candidates for the crew. -They came in a flock, ranging in size from Bumpus -the fat to McDowell the small, and in degrees of -chance according to the popular estimate, from -Talbot the sure-to-make-it to any one of a half-dozen -equally sure not to make it.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What’re you doing here, Bump?” asked Mac. -“You don’t suppose any crew could pull you, -do you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’m out for the exercise,” responded Bumpus, -unruffled. “What’re <i>you</i> doing here? You don’t -suppose you could pull any one, do you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’m out for the fun,” explained Mac. “There’s -nothing doing, and I’m tired of the gym.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>These two, of course, were among those considered -sure not to make it. Where Hardie stood, -no one could tell until he began to row on the -machines, and then the experts opined unanimously -that his chances were slim. The captain -arranged the candidates in fours to suit himself. -There was a first four, which Talbot stroked, made -up of the fellows left in school who had rowed in -the first or second boat the year before. Then a -second containing those of unofficial rank but -known experience; and after these, squads of -four taken without much care in grouping. All -the instruction they received was such as could be -given by the captain or his aids.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger got a place at two in the third squad, -and did what he could to carry out the directions -given him—pull his stroke through hard all the -way, recover sharply, start his slides back with -a gradual, deliberate movement, and use his legs. -It was all new and strange to him, so totally different -from anything he had tried before that -experience in rowing in an ordinary skiff with an -ordinary pair of oars seemed of no help whatever. -He perceived his awkwardness quite as clearly -as the bystanders who whispered together as they -watched him,—and he felt it besides, as they -could not. The secret ambition which he had -cherished since the day when Deering made the -speech in school assumed the form of an absurd -presumption. But he had no thought of giving -up.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Bumpus got his exercise, and Mac his fun. -The others got fun, too, when Bumpus rowed, -for he proved the jolliest clumsy porpoise that ever -tried to sit in a boat. He was too big for his seat. -He couldn’t get forward to begin stroke, and when -he finished, the chances were even that he couldn’t -recover at all. His candidacy was of short duration. -Talbot had to get rid of him to keep his -squad under control.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mac, on the other hand, took to the practice as -if he had done it for years. Every suggestion -made to him was translated immediately into -his stroke. From catch to finish, from recovery -to catch, his stroke seemed one blended, graceful -movement.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What a pity he isn’t bigger!” said Talbot to -Eaton, who stood beside him. “He’s a natural -oarsman.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The second day McDowell stroked the third -crew, while Hardie blundered along on the fourth. -A fortnight later he was still blundering along, -with nothing to sustain his courage but a resolution -to hang on as long as there was anything to -hang to.</p> - -<p class='c008'>And now Dunn received a blow that hurt. The -call had gone forth for candidates for baseball, -and Dunn’s name appeared near the head of the -list. Mr. Westcott then summoned Dunn to an -official interview, in which he informed the sanguine -ball player that in consequence of his continued -poor performance of school work, he could -not be allowed to play on the nine. “We have -kept you here,” said the head-master, “in spite of -your neglect, only because we were not willing to -believe that a boy could be six months among us -without catching from teachers and boys something -of the spirit of serious work. So far, we -have apparently failed to make any impression -upon you. At the present time there is not a -single subject in which you could be recommended -for college examinations. This being the case, -we cannot allow you to assume new responsibilities -which would interfere still further with -your study.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>And then the teacher made a serious attempt -to bring home to the misguided boy the wrongfulness -and folly of his course, but Dunn heard -nothing but the fact that for him there was to be -no baseball. His answers were given in stolid -monosyllables; he went forth suffocating with -rage.</p> - -<p class='c008'>No one knew better than Dunn that his school -life had been a failure, but his point of view was -very different from that of his teachers. Dunn’s -scholastic ideal was formed somewhat on the lines -of Kipling’s Stalky. To dodge one’s work, outwit -one’s teachers, and triumph at examination by -luck and cleverness represented to Dunn the only -truly desirable way of conquering school drudgery. -The real thing was to be popular, to be in the -important set, to play on the teams, and be talked -about. When Stalkyism, as exemplified in Dunn’s -recitation career, proved a flat failure, and the -expected popularity turned out to be only a kind -of contemptuous freedom to disregard him, he had -consoled himself with assurances of a different -experience on the baseball field, where he should -shine with no uncertain light. Now with a single -word Mr. Westcott had robbed him of his opportunity. -He felt like a soldier who at the critical -moment of defence finds that his cartridges have -been stolen and that he is at the mercy of the -enemy.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Stover listened to his tale, deeply disgusted. -Braggarts are usually liars or victims of delusion, -but occasionally one is found to make good some -of his boasts. Stover had investigated Dunn’s -baseball career and believed in him.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s a low-down trick!” he burst forth. -“That’s the way they do here. If they find a fellow -who can play something, they scare up some -excuse to rule him out. Anything to discourage -athletics!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I suppose it’s no good to kick,” said Dunn, -despairingly.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ll tell you what to do. Go to the old man -and play the penitent. Tell him that you’ve -done wrong, and that you’re going to study hard -from now on. If you can put it up to him strong -enough, he’ll fall on your neck and forgive you. -You’ll have to make a good bluff at work for the -next two or three weeks until you get your -reputation up, but it won’t hurt you any to do -that. Some of the fellows out there at Adams’s -will give you a lift. There’s Hardie, now; he’s -a good-natured fellow and a pretty good scholar; -he’d help you out if he knew what you’re up -against.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I guess not,” said Dunn, hopeless. “He’s -always been down on me.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t believe it. He got you that invitation -last fall for the dancing school. I don’t see why -he shouldn’t help you now.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It wasn’t Hardie. Ben Tracy got it,” corrected -Dunn, quickly.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Ben Tracy nothing! It was Hardie. I heard -Sumner talking about it at the time. It was -Hardie that did it. He isn’t so conceited as some -of that crowd. If you go at him right, he’ll help -you. Now do as I say, and see what comes of it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>This news concerning the invitation to the -dancing class—he had not forgotten his anxiety -at the time—set Dunn’s thoughts in a new -direction. The more he recalled the circumstances, -which included Ben’s clumsy disclaimer, the more -he was inclined to believe that Stover was right. -For the first time during the year Dunn clearly -perceived that he had been in some respects a -silly fool. For the first time it dawned upon him -that some of these fellows whom he had been -so ready to disparage might be in reality better -and more deserving of honor than he. He was -honest enough to recognize that if he had been -in Hardie’s place he would have acted in a far -different way.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Following Stover’s counsel, he went to Mr. -Westcott with an artificial penitence on his lips; -but there was already a half-formed, half-real -penitence in his heart. By what means Mr. -Westcott pierced his shell and made this half-penitence -wholly real, we may not inquire. The -head-master had a skill in such interviews, the -product of much experience and a genuine desire to -help rather than to punish; and Dunn’s career -offered few points capable of defence, when considered -with frankness and honesty. That his -repentance was indeed real, and his resolution -to face about, was, for the moment at least, genuine, -is proved by two circumstances: first, he -acquiesced, though sadly, in Mr. Westcott’s decision -that if he was to regain lost ground, he could -not afford the time and the thought which school -baseball required; secondly, he confessed, unsolicited, -many of his misdeeds, including his -part in the episode of the sand bath.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I suspected it,” said Mr. Westcott, “but we -won’t consider that now. That belongs to the -past. We start anew to-day.”</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch20' class='c006'>CHAPTER XX <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>IN THE PAIR-OAR</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>Dunn’s</span> change of heart was not as sudden as -it seemed. A boy often builds for himself a certain -structure of false principle which it gratifies -his vanity to consider his permanent philosophy -of life. When faults in this structure develop, -he shuts his eyes to them or patches them with -flattering sophistries; and even when the foundations -are actually crumbling away, he affects a -firm confidence because he is too weak to face the -task of rebuilding. In the end some bitter experience -may undermine the last support and -bring down the edifice with a crash.</p> - -<p class='c008'>So it was with Dunn. He had been aware for -some time that he was on the wrong track, but -he could not bring himself to acknowledge the fact. -The information that even when he felt most -bitter against Hardie, Hardie had secretly done -him a good turn, stirred his sense of shame -and disproved his assumption that all the boys had -been down on him from the beginning. He recognized -clearly enough now that he had been making -a fool of himself, and that the only sensible course -was to retrace his steps and start anew in a different -path. He went that evening to Hardie’s -room, announced that he was going to turn over -a new leaf, and asked if he might drop in occasionally -for a lift over a hard place. He said -nothing of the dancing-school invitation; that -lay now too far away in the past.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Hardie met him so cordially that Dunn was -moved to open his heart still further. “What is -the matter with me, anyway?” he demanded -bluntly. “I wish you’d give me the bottom -facts, right out straight.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Hardie smiled. “You don’t do any work.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh, I know all about that. I’m a loafer and -a goat besides. I don’t mean about studies. -Why don’t the fellows like me?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh, I don’t know,” answered Hardie, warily. -“Don’t they like you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No, they don’t. You know they don’t. Now, -what is it?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger looked shyly across the table at the -questioner; he didn’t know what to answer.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Spit it out!” insisted Dunn. “Just give me -the truth. I can stand it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well,” said Roger, slowly, “for one thing, -you talk too much.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn stared. “I don’t think that’s such a -crime. I’m nothing compared with Wilmot. -His tongue’s going all the time.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh, he’s different,” exclaimed Roger, hastily. -“He talks a lot of trash, but he’s amusing, and -the fellows like it. He never talks about himself.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And my talk isn’t amusing and is always about -myself.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not that exactly, but you’re always thinking -about yourself. You don’t take much interest -in anybody else.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It isn’t easy to do it if they won’t let you,” -said Dunn, with a gloomy smile. “What else?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Your ideas are different from theirs. You -think things are funny that they don’t. They -don’t like your way of looking at things.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“In other words I’m all wrong,” growled Dunn, -in disgust, as he rose to go. “I couldn’t please -’em, anyway, and I shan’t try it, but I’m going to -stop talking and cut out smoking and get right -down to work.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“For how long?” asked Roger, with a grin of -incredulity.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Right through the year,” returned Dunn, -hotly. “You don’t believe me, but you wait -and see!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>With this bold assertion on his lips, Dunn made -for his room. The door was just closing behind -him when Roger called out, “Oh, Jason!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn returned, closed the door and backed -against it.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Aren’t you going to play ball at all?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No; what’s the use? If I can’t play on the -team, I might as well cut the whole thing out and -study.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You can’t study all the time. You might -come out just the same and play on the second -and pitch for batting practice. It would show -the right spirit, and the fellows would appreciate -it. You know how they all felt about Sumner.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I won’t do it,” answered Dunn, stubbornly. -“I’ve been cut off from the team, and now it’ll -have to get along without me. Sumner always -had a chance to get on the team again; I’m out -of it for good.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The time had come for the crews to take to the -river. The Boston schools row under the patronage -of the Boston Athletic Association, which -provides boats and coaches, arranges for the races, -and furnishes prizes. Each school enters two -fours, a first and second, which compete in separate -races. As Westcott’s possessed a pair-oar -of her own, there were places in the boats for ten -men exclusive of the coxswains. Talbot narrowed -down his squad to eleven, allowing an extra man -for accidents and illness, and getting rid of the -rest by the easy method of not inviting them to -report on the river. Hardie, to his delight, received -orders to bring his rowing clothes to the -boat-house. He did so fully conscious that his -destination was neither the first nor the second. -Talbot had said nothing to this effect,—indeed, -Talbot, now that the rowing season was actually -to begin, abated something of his intimacy,—but -there was a general agreement as to the provisional -formation of the crews which was almost -authoritative. Of the new men who had come -out, three had shown promise of skill as oarsmen. -One of them was Bursley, a quiet fellow who came -in every day from a suburb a dozen miles out, -tall, muscular, and teachable. Louis Tracy was -another, and finally McDowell, who, though he -had grown during the year, was still undersized. -On the first crew were to be tried—so the report -ran—Talbot, Bursley, Eaton, and Pitkin; on -the second, Weld, Sumner, L. Tracy, and McDowell; -Wilmot, Hardie, and Redfield would thus be left -over for the pair-oar.</p> - -<p class='c008'>This forecast proved correct except in one -particular. To his surprise, Roger got a trial -the first day out, at two on the second. We may -well call it a trial, for such it surely was to all -concerned. More accurately described, it was -a demonstration of incapacity. Roger’s struggles -with his oar stirred his rowing companions to -fierce growls, the coxswain to abuse, the loiterers -on the float to gestures and grins of malicious -enjoyment. Poor Number Two couldn’t get -his oar in right; it twisted in his hand and pulled -under, it wouldn’t come out when it ought and -as it ought. Delayed by the insidious clutch of -the water, he started his slide before he had freed -his blade, and his knees rose and blocked the -backward movement of his handle. Though he -put forth extraordinary efforts to master the oar, -the oar insisted on mastering him. By good luck -and violent slide rushing, he managed to avoid -taking Number Three in the back, but half the -time he was holding or backing water, and all the -time he was preventing bow from keeping stroke. -Strive as he might with mind and body, his strength -wrought nothing but confusion. A half-hour of -this fruitless wrenching and blundering was all -the crew could stand; the boat was headed in, -and Roger was unceremoniously dumped upon -the float.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Louis Tracy took his place—and kept it. -After that, the disenchanted but still determined -Roger rowed bow on the pair-oar to Wilmot’s -stroke, and toiled over the unmanageable oar. -It had a way of plunging under, every few strokes, -and pulling the side of the boat down; then it -stuck deep in the water, and Coolidge, the cox, -would reprove, and the offending bow would grip -his handle still tighter and vow that this particular -fault shouldn’t occur again. But it did occur -again, and others as heinous. He couldn’t get -his oar away after he had raised it from the water; -he rushed his slide instead of drawing it gradually -back so as not to check the motion of the boat; -he could not put into practice the apparently -simple direction that the legs were to bear the -burden of the work. As a result his back suffered,—and -the temper of his mates, who poured out -on his head reproach and sarcasm until the ineffectualness -of words was made apparent, when -they relapsed into a humorous pessimism that was -more unflattering than abuse.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The crew of the pair-oar was under another -disadvantage: very little coaching trickled -through to them. Caffrey, the Westcott coach, -gave his attention chiefly to the first and incidentally -to the second: the pair-oar shifted for itself, -or received one set of amateur directions one day -and another the next. As Roger thought of it, -he and Wilmot were in the position of a slow -steamer trying to overtake one which was several -knots faster. Only a breakdown in the leader -could prevent the distance between them from -growing hourly greater.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What’s the matter with Hardie?” asked -Talbot, one day, as he walked down with Wilmot -to the boat-house. “He doesn’t seem to be gaining -at all.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He’s just rotten,” answered Wilmot, despairingly. -“A low-caste baboon would do better!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He may get it yet,” said Talbot.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He may!” echoed Wilmot, derisively; “oh, -yes, he may! But I’ll bet you a dollar to a cent -that he won’t!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>A fortnight passed: Bursley was making good -in the first, and Mac had been promoted to stroke -on the second, but Roger’s improvement was -scarcely noticeable. He was beginning to fear -that rowing was something for which he was -physically unfitted, as a fat man for pole vaulting. -In spite of his hardened muscles he became easily -tired; his poor form wore on his back and wrists -and arms. Good rowing is easy rowing: Roger’s -was both bad and hard. Yet in spite of all discouragement -he enjoyed the practice. It was interesting -to struggle for the hoped-for improvement, -even though the hope proved vain, to -observe the other crews on the water, to rest on -the oar, a little out of the channel, and watch the -Varsity eight sweep magnificently by, with the nose -of the coaching launch close at the shell’s rudder, -the oarsmen’s bodies bending in beautiful unison, -the water boiling back from the driving blades. -Roger never saw Deering’s crew without a thrill -of that awe which the subaltern feels when he -stands in the presence of a famous general. It -represented power, skill, and determination concentrated; -in it was embodied a kind of majesty -before which the schoolboy oars bowed with -instinctive reverence. Every crew on the river -gazed at the Varsity in rapt admiration, but the -Varsity recognized the presence of no one but itself.</p> - -<p class='c008'>One afternoon in early May, Coolidge turned -the bow of the pair-oar upstream. For a mile -Hardie’s oar played its old tricks, twisting in his -hand and pulling under, tipping the boat, spoiling -the stroke, filling with disgust and despair the -hearts of the little crew. Near the Cottage Farm -bridge they stopped to watch a college eight pass. -When they started again, it occurred to Roger to -see whether the rowlock would not carry his oar, -and permit him to concentrate his attention on -his slide and the recovery. To his surprise the -oarlock did carry the oar. His wrists were relieved -of an exhausting strain; his blade plunged under -no longer. He found that a little easy toss of the -oar at the end of the slide would bring the blade -squarely into the water.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What’s the matter with you, Bow?” called -Coolidge, amazed. “You’re rowing right!”</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div id='i253' class='figcenter id005'> -<img src='images/i253.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic002'> -<p><span class='sc'>And watch the Varsity eight sweep magnificently by.</span></p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s about time,” growled Wilmot.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Hardie, delighted, gave his whole mind to his -movement, ceasing to steal side-glances at his -blade, and watching Wilmot’s back more closely. -The oar was beginning to catch spontaneously -and hard, his slide to return naturally with the -motion of the boat. The pair-oar continued -upstream to the edge of Soldiers’ Field, then turned -and retraced its course,—a three-mile row,—but -Roger felt no weariness. The relief from the -awkward strain which he had been putting upon -himself made the work seem like a rest. Just -above the Harvard bridge they met the first boat, -which stopped to enable the captain to watch them, -and Pete sang out something which could not be -heard. Later when they were all dressing in the -boat-house, Coolidge asked what this message -was.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh, nothing of importance,” answered Talbot. -“I only said that bow was doing well.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It seems to me of importance,” said Roger, -whose face glowed with joy. “That’s more than -you’ve said so far this year.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ve been thinking lately that I might never be -able to say it at all,” said Talbot.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Meantime on the ball field things were going -badly for Westcott’s. Dunn reconsidered his resolution -and went out to give the batters practice -and play general helper, but he couldn’t make -Ben Tracy a good pitcher or Stover a forceful -captain. The school appreciated Dunn’s efforts -and thought better of him for them. Jason was -studying, too, though with no very startling classroom -results. He had a tutor for an hour every -afternoon, and he often worked the whole evening -in Hardie’s room.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’m almost glad that I couldn’t play on that -nine,” he said one evening as he brought in his -books; “they’re a terribly poor lot, and Stover -doesn’t get anything out of ’em. Think of Newbury -beating them twelve to two the other day!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They may brace up near the second game,” -suggested Roger.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn shook his head; “No, they won’t. It -isn’t in ’em. Did you see Smithy leading the -cheering at the game? He was wild to beat!’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“If they can win the baseball and the crew -now, they can get along without the football.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh, they won’t win the crew,” declared Dunn, -“we’ll have ’em there.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Lanning says they’re going to,” said Roger. -“He coaches Newbury.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn considered a moment. “I don’t see how -Pitkin can be strong enough to row a hard race. -He’s bow on the first, isn’t he?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes, and he rows well, too.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You ought to be there. You could stand -the pace.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger laughed. “I can’t even make the second. -A little while ago Wilmot wanted to kick me off -the pair-oar.”</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch21' class='c006'>CHAPTER XXI <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>THE SECOND CREW</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>Never</span> did small boy yearn for the swimming-hole -as Roger Hardie for the next practice. He -lay awake for an hour, going over the details -of the stroke as he hoped to use it. He had got -control of the oar now, he was sure; he didn’t -swing out, he didn’t rush his slide, and he -did pull straight through—all positive virtues. -The problem now was to catch sharply, to pick -up the movement with the legs as his trunk came -up, shoot the whole body back in one continuous -and even strain, throwing his entire weight against -the stretcher—“jump right back from the -stretcher,” as Caffrey had once said. After that -he must make a smart recover, get the hands -away promptly, and rest as his slide went cautiously -back, so as to be able to put all his strength -and weight into the next push against the water. -It wasn’t the back that was to do the rowing, -nor the arms, but the whole body, and especially -the legs. All this as theory was splendidly clear, -but how much could he put in practice? What -right had a clumsy fellow like him to expect to -attain a skill which other fellows had failed to -gain with years of practice?</p> - -<p class='c008'>He fell asleep with this question echoing in his -brain, alternately vowing that he would do it and -convinced that he could not. The rising bell -woke him. He was unspeakably glad to be waked, -for he was dreaming that he had fallen back into -his old bad ways, that the water sucked the oar -blade down after every stroke, that Coolidge and -Wilmot had rebelled and Pete had told him to try -baseball, and put Redfield into his place. He -was inclined to take the dream as a bad omen -until at luncheon Talbot informed him that Weld -was out with a sore finger, and that he would have -to row bow on the second that afternoon. He -bethought himself then that dreams are said to go -by contraries, and took heart.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Caffrey seated himself in Mike’s place when the -crews went out—Mike was cox of the second—and -coached the first from the second boat, -occasionally transferring his exhortation to the -crew that pulled him. Hardie put his whole soul -into his rowing and listened with all his ears. -Caffrey’s principal point of attack in the first boat -was Pitkin at bow, whom he accused of minor -shortcomings and one very serious fault—not -rowing hard enough. “You’re late all the time, -Bow. Your oar must move as soon as it strikes -the water, otherwise you back water. You’re -shirking, Bow! Don’t let the boat finish out your -stroke. Keep over the keel, Two; you’re rolling -round too much. Don’t follow your arms around, -that makes you swing out. Together there—you’re -awfully sloppy!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>And then he gave his attention for a time to the -second. “Pull straight through, Three. Keep -your hands down and pull straight in. Quicker -on the recover, Bow. Don’t feather under. Take -your oar out square and feather as you drop your -hands and shoot away. That’s better. Don’t -bury your oar so deep!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>How different it was from knocking about with -Wilmot in the pair-oar! There was a feeling in the -boat as if boat and oars and men worked in unison, -a swift, steady, exhilarating, forward glide that gave -the oarsmen a sense of power and skill. Every -one worked intently with Caffrey’s eye upon him. -Every stroke was a contest against one’s own -treacherous faults, with the feel of the boat, the -facility of the oar, the criticism of the coach as -test of success. By this test Roger was satisfied -that he had acquitted himself well. When, at -the Cottage Farm bridge, the coach called, “Let -her run,” he rested on his oars, with such a feeling -of delight as he had not experienced even when -Westcott’s won the Newbury football game, back -in November. To make clear what happened -during the rest of the row that day, and to set -forth certain events of the remainder of the week, -we cannot do better than transcribe Roger’s -own letter to his mother, written on the following -Sunday. Nine-tenths of it was about rowing, in -which Mrs. Hardie could only feel the reflection -of her son’s interest; and half of what she read -she did not understand. Perhaps my reader can -do better.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“<span class='sc'>Dear Mother</span>:</p> - -<p class='c012'>“This has been a great week for me, and I’m -going to tell you all about it, though I can’t make -you see it as I do. You know I got saved over -for the pair-oar when the Westcott squad was -narrowed down to two crews and a pair-oar, with -coxes for each. This is the final narrowing down -except that the day before the race the pair-oar -bunch gets the hook. I had been slopping along -in the pair-oar with Steve Wilmot, being more -or less rotten all the season, never at all decent, -and often for long stretches <i>absolutely</i> ROTTEN, -making both cox and Steve awfully sore, and doing -much worse than the worst school crew on the -river, which is saying a good deal. A few days -ago I went out as usual and began badly, but after -a while I seemed to catch on all at once, and -began to row decently. We went a long way up -river, and I kept on getting the habit of pulling -somewhat right. By the time I got home my -rowing had improved several thousand per cent. -Pete saw me just as we came in (Pete is the captain) -and seemed awfully surprised that I was -doing so well.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“The next day Eliot Weld was out with a -sore finger, and they put me into his place in the -second. Caffrey acted as cox, and I felt that if -I ever was going to have a chance to show what -I could do, I had it then. I did pretty well, I -think, for Caffrey didn’t say much to me. The -two crews went along together for a while, then the -coach sent the first down and made us all stop -and put on sweaters. Then he pulled out a -clipping about the adoption of a new, unorthodox -stroke in England by some of their colleges, and -read it to us, making comments and illustrating -and explaining. He had found some one who had -the same idea he had and who believed in the -same stroke that he tried to teach us.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“We started down just as an inferior college -eight came along, pulling a regulation good hard -stroke. Caffrey said: ‘We may as well race this -eight now they are here,’ and started us up. He -is heavy, but he knows more about managing a -crew than all the other coxes together, and everybody -has confidence in him and doesn’t get rattled. -He pushed us along as fast as we could go to a -bridge. We had a fraction of a length start, but -we gained until we went through the bridge a -length ahead of the other crew. Of course the -eight was not racing, but it was pretty good for -us, to spurt a four-oar faster than an eight goes -when rowing at a good pace. This was not one of -the Varsity eights, of course, but an upper class -eight, or a club eight. It would have been the -height of ridiculousness and especially of freshness -to row against the freshmen or the 2d or 3d -Varsity. After a short stop to tell us what he -wanted us to do, we went all the way back to the -boat-house without a break and at a good pace. -On the way down Caffrey talked to us, telling us -how to save strength or favor some muscle, and -trying to get us to rest on the recovery.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I was dead tired when we got to the boat-house, -but I think I pulled just as hard on the tired -stretch as at any other time, excepting, of course, -the race. I think Caffrey raced us to give us -confidence and to get us into the habit of not -getting rattled. And now for the most important -thing of all. <i>I was promoted to the second.</i> It was -because I pulled so hard and didn’t give in or -weaken. Pete told me so while we were dressing. -Weld must take the pair-oar. I’m out of that. -I may get kicked back in a little while, but it will -not be from lack of effort on my part if I do. I -would rather make the second crew than anything -else (except the first), as that means something; -for our crews are in a different class from any of -our other teams, and 2d crew this year means -<i>1st crew next year</i> (if I can possibly make it)!</p> - -<p class='c012'>“That was on Tuesday. Since then I’ve been -rowing on the second every practice without being -kicked, but I live in a continual state of terror -that some one will oust me from my place. -Of course there’s only Wilmot and Weld, and -Wilmot’s too short and fat to be any good, while -Weld is not supposed to have the staying power, -but I shan’t be free from worry until the race -starts (and that’s still nearly three weeks off). -Even if I can hold my place, I might get sick or -hurt somehow, and so be thrown out.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“On Friday we went out in the worst weather -we ever had. The rain blew so fast that sheets -of it would go into Mike’s megaphone, so that he -really spent more time in blowing out water than -in talking, though this was only when we were -bucking the wind. We were all soaked about -five minutes after we left the boat-house. The -waves were very bad, often piling right over the -boat. The rain came down so fast that it looked -like a mist, and you couldn’t see the shore from -the middle of the river. We didn’t stay out -long, for there was no chance for good rowing. -When we came in, we found that the roof leaked. -Little Mike was down on the Newbury bunch because -some one of them pinched his collar buttons -one day, so that he hadn’t anything to button his -collar to. So he put the clothes of the Newbury -crews, who were still out, under the leak.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“This is a terribly long letter and will cost -something to send it to Buenos Aires, but I wanted -to tell you all about the crew business even if it -does bore you. It means a lot to me. If you went -to Westcott’s, you would understand. You can -read between the lines that my health is good and -the studies are going all right. I got 82 in a -history exam, on Monday. Love to all.</p> -<p class='c013'>“Your affectionate son,</p> -<p class='c014'>“<span class='sc'>Roger</span>.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What do you think of that?” asked Mrs. -Hardie, four weeks later, after her husband had -patiently toiled through the letter. “Fancy -their going out in a tempest that soaked them in -five minutes!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t care about that,” said Mr. Hardie. -“It’s the race that troubles me. It is a great -strain on the heart, and the Hardies have a -tendency to weak hearts.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Roger takes after me, and my family have -good tough hearts,” returned Mrs. Hardie, quickly, -seeing, as she thought, a disposition on the part -of her husband to disapprove the boy’s rowing. -She was touched that her son should count on her -loving interest in all that occupied his thoughts; -she objected strongly to making use of his confidences -to thwart the ambitions which he -cherished most deeply, thus perhaps banishing -forever the frankness in which her mother heart -delighted.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Besides,” she added, “I wrote him all about -that last week. He can be trusted to look out -for himself.”</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch22' class='c006'>CHAPTER XXII <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>A SHIFT IN THE BOAT</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>A fortnight</span> later another letter packed full -of the inevitable rowing gush started on the long -journey to Buenos Aires.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“<span class='sc'>Dear Mother</span>:</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I have so much to tell you about the crew -this time and such a wonderful story of luck that -I must answer your questions right off at the -beginning or I shall surely forget to. You must -let me know what boat you’re coming on in June -so that I can meet you at the dock. It must -seem funny to get two summers in the same year. -If summer vacations went with them, I should like -that myself. It is all right about the Comptons. -I called there a long time ago. I did not want to -go, but as you wanted me to, I went, and had a -very decent time after all. They asked me to -dinner a few days afterward. I had to accept -because I couldn’t very well get out of it. They -gave me a swell feed, and there were two girls -there whom I had met at dancing school. Joe -Compton is a conceited little mutt. I will make -my party call when the rowing is over, as it will -be after another week. I think I shall get recommendations -for 16 points, though the English -isn’t certain yet. You must not expect me to -pass them all off. Nobody does that but the -sharks, and you know I am not a shark. Jason -Dunn, the boy you ask about who turned over a -new leaf, keeps it turned all right, but as far as -studies are concerned, it is still blank. You don’t -need to ask me to help him, I couldn’t prevent it -if I wanted to, as he studies in my room almost -every night. I don’t dislike him as I used to. -I will order the new suit, but I think the old one -would do, and I could spend the money more -profitably on something else. The boys here -don’t care much about outside clothes, though -they’re terribly keen about having fresh socks -and shirts every day, and they run wild on neckties. -My laundry bill is a whopper. Now for the -real news.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I rowed on the second a whole week. Of -course we did not get a great deal of Caffrey, -but Mike is pretty good, and Pete Talbot would -tell me after the practice some special fault he -had seen in me, and then I worked with all my -might to straighten it out. I kept on getting -accustomed to use my legs and run the leg motion -into the body and arms (that doesn’t sound right, -but it is the best I can do to explain it), and I -found the work a lot easier. You see if you row -with a fixed seat, the whole strain is on the back -and arms, and the pull is with strength alone. -On the sliding seat, you row against your stretcher -(that’s the foot-board) and the legs furnish most -of the power. The skill comes in in blending -everything together in one easy, natural motion, -and getting back to take your next stroke without -checking the boat by the return of your slide. -I could feel all along that I was gaining, though -I was slow on the recover, and bungled my oar -still. The fellows all seemed to think I was going -to make good in the second, and I was delighted, -for our second is about the best second on the -river, and Mac sets a <i>perfectly wonderful</i> stroke.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“One day near the end of the week Caffrey -went out with us. He watched me all the time, -but he didn’t say anything to me in particular -except to get away on my slide hard at the start -and slow down at the finish, and to keep the top edge -of my blade just below the surface of the water, -and not feather under. I knew all this before, -but rowing directions are awfully hard to apply. -You have to watch the back of the man in front -of you for your stroke, and yet start at the very -instant he does. That means that you must -feel when he is going to start and start with him. -That’s an example of what they expect of you in -a boat; other things are a good deal harder.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“On Friday the first went to Suffolk to race -the Suffolk School. They have a little course -out there of about a quarter of a mile, and they -practice for just this short distance with an -awfully quick stroke. Of course they always -beat the crews that come to row them because -the visitors are not used to rowing that way. -It is like putting a half-miler to run a hundred -yards with a sprinter. Well, our crew pulled an -awfully snappy race and came within a quarter of -a length of winning. They would have won, too, -Rust said (the cox), if Pitkin had not got rattled -with the fast stroke and caught a crab and lost -a good half-length. He was all in, too, at the -finish, while Pete and Jim Eaton and Bursley -felt as if they were just beginning to row. The -Suffolk fellows always row themselves out. Rust -told me all about it. Of course I did not go. The -crew had to leave at 12 o’clock to get the train, -and they don’t let you cut recitations here to see -races. They think they are terribly generous to -let the crew off.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Monday was our day on the river. We don’t -row every day, because there are not boats enough -to go round, and only two coaches for eight -schools. Caffrey coached us for a while from a -launch that belongs to one of the boys, and then -sent both crews up to the starting-place of the -regular mile course and told us to race down to -the boat-house. The first gave us a length start. -Caffrey had said that we must think of our form -all the time and pull for all that we were worth -every instant the oar was in the water. It was -the hardest work I ever did in my life, but I gave -all my attention to my form and my oar, and I -didn’t notice how tired I was till we got nearly to -the Harvard bridge. For a while I occasionally -got a glimpse of the first behind us, and that kept -me encouraged, but about halfway down they -passed us, and then I just had to pull blind, and -I did my best. I knew I could stand it if the rest -could. A little above the bridge, Mike called for -a spurt, and Mac hit it up three or four strokes -faster. I saw Sumner’s head begin to wabble, -and I knew that he was getting to the end of his -rope, and I began to worry about what I should do -if he gave out. But Jack is good stuff, and he -held out to the finish. By and by Mike cried out, -‘Ten strokes more! Make ’em hard now!’ -and I found I had plenty of strength left after all. -It is strange that though you seem to be pulling -yourself out, there is always something left over!</p> - -<p class='c012'>“When Mike called ‘Let her run!’ I was so -tickled to think that I had kept my form all the -way and rowed a good race that I sat up and -grinned. That grin was worth a lot to me as you -will see. Pitkin slumped down in the boat as -soon as he stopped rowing. Caffrey had been -alongside of us all the time watching every man. -Afterwards he had a talk with Pete. I heard him -say, ‘Pitkin’s face was all screwed up the last -quarter, he was rowing weak; the other fellow -just went white, and at the end he sat up and -laughed.’ They saw me look up at that so they -moved away. I guessed they were speaking of -me, and I felt good, I can tell you, to think I had -done well and proved my right to be in the second -boat instead of the pair-oar.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Pete asked me to wait for him (he’s an -awfully slow dresser), so I hung round on the float -and watched some of the other boats. Caffrey -had gone out with Waterville High who were -waiting for him. Their crew is pretty good too. -By and by Pete came along, and we went up together -to the car. And what do you think he -said to me? <i>Pitkin and I were to change places.</i></p> - -<p class='c012'>“I was so set up and so happy that I couldn’t -study much, and I couldn’t get to sleep for a long -time.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Since then I have rowed bow on the first all -the time, and there is practically no chance at all -of my being put back, as the practice is over now. -To-day the pair-oar bunch was fired. They knew -it was their last time, so Wilmot and Weld got -Trask for cox and came out, all three smoking -cigarettes with a great air of superiority and -rowing about as they liked. They came down -to where we were practicing racing starts with the -second, above the Harvard bridge, and watched -us. They were in very good spirits and jollied -the two boats, sitting in attitudes of ease in the -pair-oar in the warm sun, and occasionally rowing. -They thought they were having a fine time, but -any one of them would have given almost anything -to sneak into the boat—except Trask, -perhaps, who has a heart and isn’t allowed to -row. There was a lot of talk as to whether any -one would dare to call Caffrey ‘Bill,’ as it was the -last day, but no one was fresh enough to.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“The preliminary heats come on Wednesday. -Our second stands a good chance to get the championship, -but the first, which is the most important, -of course, has to face much better crews. I hope -we can get into the finals, anyway. Some of the -papers say Bainbridge is going to win, and some -say Newbury, which has a husky, big crew.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“All we want is to beat Newbury. They’ve -won the championship at baseball already, though -they have to play us one more game. If they -beat us in the crew, they get Smithy’s cup for a -year; if we beat them, we get it. Smithy has come -out again. He was at the baseball game in all -his importance, and they say he’s trying to work -the officials for the races so that Newbury can get -the best course. By the time I write my next -letter it will be all over. I’d cable you about it, -only it costs so much and you’ll have sailed by -that time. I am writing this on Friday to give -it a good start.</p> -<p class='c013'>“Affectionately,</p> -<p class='c014'>“<span class='sc'>Roger</span>.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The next morning Roger slept late. He got -up feeling listless and dispirited; and though he -assured himself as he dressed that he had every -reason to feel both happy and vigorous, the -lethargy clung to him so insistently that after -breakfast he returned to his room and lay down. -In addition he was troubled by an occasional -stitch in the left side. Was it possible that he -was going to fall ill, at this of all times? Could -it be that he too had developed a weakness of -the heart such as his father suffered from? The -thought sent a shiver down his spine. It couldn’t -be so, it shouldn’t be so! He would not be -cheated out of his reward after all these weeks -of hard uphill work.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Towards noon Dunn came whistling in from -school, where he had been spending his Saturday -morning in enforced diligence. He pounded on -Roger’s door, opened it, and dexterously flipped -a letter across to the figure on the sofa.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Buenos Aires,” he said curtly. Then, suddenly -perceiving that Roger was lying in an unusual -state of quiet, or reading signs of discouragement -in his face, he added: “Hello! You -aren’t sick, are you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I guess not,” answered Roger, smiling drearily; -“I felt a little tired.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’ve been overdoing, that’s all, I guess. -Talbot works you too hard. You ought to cut -practice for a day or two.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Practice is over, anyway,” responded Roger.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You want to take it easy until the race, then, -and not think about it,” said Dunn. “We can’t -afford to have you overtrained.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dunn departed and Roger took up his letter. -He read with keen interest until he came to the -last page, when a look of dismay swept over his -face. “Your father is greatly concerned about -your rowing,” ran the fatal passage. “We know -an English gentleman here who rowed on the -Cambridge crew, and he says that oarsmen not -infrequently get some form of heart disease from -the great strain put upon the heart in racing. -Your father wanted to write immediately and -forbid your rowing, but I told him that if you -could play football without harm, you ought to -be able to row a mile, and prevailed on him to -leave the matter in your hands. Before you take -part in any race you must see a good physician, -Dr. Long, for example, and make sure that your -heart is sound. You can’t afford to purchase the -petty glory of rowing in a schoolboy race at the -price of ill-health for the rest of your life.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger dropped the letter from his hands and -groaned aloud. “He won’t pass me, I’m sure. -It’s all up with me if I go to a doctor. Why -couldn’t the confounded letter have got lost on -the way!”</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch23' class='c006'>CHAPTER XXIII <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>THE WEAKENED HEART</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>The</span> rest of the day Roger spent in moping, -fuming, and intermittent attempts to divert himself -by reading or work. Feeling wholly without -appetite, he did not go down to luncheon when the -bell rang. As a consequence Mr. Adams came -up, inquired sympathetically about his condition, -and proposed to telephone for a physician. -But a physician was, at that moment, the last -person that Roger desired to see; he could not -reconcile himself to the thought of submitting -his dearly cherished hopes to the decision of some -bigoted foe of rowing who would condemn him -on principle and flatter himself that he had saved -another body from destruction. He had passed -the Athletic Association doctor at the beginning -of the season; why was not that enough to satisfy -his mother’s requirement?</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t think it’s necessary,” he said, avoiding -Mr. Adams’s eye. “I’m just a little off my feed. -I shall be all right by to-night.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s always better to attend to these things -at the outset,” rejoined the teacher. “The doctor -wouldn’t hurt you.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t want him!” persisted Roger, fretfully. -“He’d just stir me up.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Adams observed him with curiosity. Here -was a childish unreasonableness which he had -never before seen in Roger Hardie. “I’ll wait -till to-night, then. Isn’t there something Mrs. -Adams or I could do to make you more comfortable? -Shouldn’t you like something to read, -or some one to read to you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger thanked him, but thought he should take -a little nap and then perhaps go for a walk. So -Mr. Adams was induced to leave, and Roger lay -back on his couch, with eyes staring wide open and -thoughts pounding hard. He had staved off the -doctor for a time at least.</p> - -<p class='c008'>As he lay there assuring himself that nothing -could be the matter with his heart and that he -should certainly be quite well by night, reviling -himself for being such a fool as to fall ill on the eve -of a race and vowing that he would row anyway, -Dunn came softly in on new rubber-soled shoes. -He was going to Cambridge to see the Harvard-Princeton -game, but before he went he wanted to -express his sympathy and offer consolation. Dunn -did not use these trite expressions nor did he -talk like a phrase book of etiquette, but he meant -well and Roger understood him. The consolation -took the form of a lurid, six weeks’ novel -which Dunn commended as “pretty fair.” An -hour with this pretty fair tale of Jason’s lending -was about all Roger could stand; he threw it -down gladly when Mike appeared to invite him -to go out and watch the game between the Weary-Willies -and the Easy-Resters which Mike was to -umpire.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He fared forth, therefore, with Mike, and established -himself at the shady end of the players’ -bench, prepared to be quietly amused. Dickie -Sumner thrust a sheet of paper and a pencil into -his hand and bade him keep score. It was a great -game and most amusing, but totally devoid of -quiet. The Easy-Resters rested not at all, but -tore up and down the foul lines, jeering at the -battery of their opponents and abusing the -umpire. The Weary-Willies answered unweariedly -jeer for jeer. When, in the middle of the -fifth inning, the E-R’s assaulted Mike, and, -sweeping him off the field, dragged Roger out to -take his place, the new umpire could not for the -life of him determine whether the score stood -seven to six in favor of the E-R’s or six to five -for the W-W’s. So he left Mike to continue the -score after his own fashion, and devoted himself to -securing order on the diamond and enforcing his -decisions by threats of injury from the baseball -bat with which he had armed himself.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The game was over, and the players were arguing -noisily about the score—Mike had made the -E-R’s pay dearly for the violence offered to -the sacred person of the umpire—before Roger -bethought himself of his illness. He was apprised -of it now by a sensation of faintness, and a startling -dizziness that fell upon him suddenly and for -the moment frightened him with the fear that he -was the victim of one of the “spells” to which, -as he vaguely knew, people with weak hearts -are subject. But the fear was overborne by -a fierce determination that surged up in a defiant -flood, insisting that the undesired was the untrue. -It was not his heart! His heart was as strong as -any one’s, whatever his father might fancy. -He would not be ill, he would row! He set his -teeth and clenched his fists and steered his way -straight for the house. There he threw himself -into a chair in the common room, and taking up a -paper, turned to the sports page, on which a reporter -had given his opinion as to the probable -outcome of the schoolboy races. Newbury was -picked for first place, with a good fighting chance -for Bainbridge Latin,—both coached by Lanning. -Westcott’s was the best of the Caffrey -crews, but did not look like a winner; the Back -Bay boys rowed in good form, but they lacked -the power of the big men in the other boats. -While form was unquestionably an important -element in the success of a crew, mere style could -never take the place of endurance and strength.</p> - -<p class='c008'>So much Roger at last comprehended after -several readings and with much effort to control -his trembling hands and wavering eyes. He put -down the paper in disgust, and resting his heavy -head on his hand, mingled in a dizzy confusion despairing -self-reproach and genuine prayers for help.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The dizziness had worn off, but the weakness -still remained, and the consciousness of this weakness -undermined the props of determination as -fast as they were set up. The boys were gathering -for dinner; they threw curious and not unsympathetic -glances at the disconsolate figure in the -lounging chair, and talked in tones uncommonly -subdued of the effect Hardie’s illness would have -on the chances of the crew. Presently Felton -came in from the long corridor, surveyed the -room, and catching sight of Hardie in the chair -slapped him roughly on the shoulder.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger started and shot a menacing look at the -offender. “What’s the matter with you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What’s the matter with <i>you</i>?” retorted Felton. -“Pete wants you at the telephone.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger dragged himself to the telephone. “Is -that you, Roger?” sounded Talbot’s clear voice.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How are you? They told me this afternoon -that you were under the weather. You aren’t -going to be sick, are you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No, it’s all right. I’m better to-night.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s good. Be careful what you eat, and -get to bed early. We can’t afford to lose you. -They assigned places this afternoon for the trials. -We got the outside.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s bad, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’m afraid so. There won’t be any current -to help us, and a head wind would set us back -a lot. They’re counting on our weakening at -the finish. They don’t know us. I’m not afraid -of any weakening in the first boat now that Pitkin -is out.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger groaned audibly. “What’s that?” -asked Talbot.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Where’s Newbury?” substituted Roger.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Inside, next to the wall. Smithy got that -arranged all right.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How does he come in?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How does he come into anything? Pulls -wires and works his friends in the B.A.A. He’ll -be on the referee’s launch in some official capacity, -I’ll bet my head. I’m willing to let Newbury -beat us in the trials, but we must make -second place so as to get into the finals. I -should like to save our strength as much as possible -for the real thing. We ought to find Brookfield -High and Boston Latin pretty easy; they are -the others in our heat.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s right; our second could put it over -either of them.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, take good care of yourself. Remember -about eating and getting to bed. Good-by.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger hung up the receiver and returned to -the common room. The talk with Pete had put -new life into him. Excited by the news and the -prospect, he thought of his illness only as something -which he had really left behind him, and -which might be wholly disregarded. His mother’s -instruction as to the examination of his heart he -would not consider just now. There must be -some way out of the dilemma. He must row, -whatever happened; on that he was determined.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The dining-room doors opened just as he came -down the corridor, and Roger went in with the -first rush. Acting on the assumption that he -was well, and hungry from a day’s fasting, he -fell to greedily. Soup, roast, vegetables, pudding, -fruit—he took them all, like any of the perpetually -hollow boys who called the food at Adams’s -“bum,” yet devoured it like cormorants. Mr. -Adams was not at dinner; if he had been there -he must have marked with uneasiness the feverish -glitter in Roger’s eye and the abnormal convalescent’s -appetite.</p> - -<p class='c008'>After dinner the company sallied forth to the -playground, the younger lads to indulge in a -screaming game of scrub, the older ones to sit -round on the grass and watch Dunn trying to -teach Cable to hold a pitched ball. Dunn had -declared that Cable should learn, and Cable had -declared that he couldn’t. In the contest Cable -very clearly proved his case—to Dunn’s disgust -and the infinite amusement of the onlookers. The -sport terminated at half-past seven, when Jason, -spying his tutor coming across from the street, -drove a particularly vicious in-curve at the unfortunate -Cable, who dodged the missile by an -awkward sprawl, and trudged submissively after -it to the distant elm trees.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger followed Dunn into the house. For -the last fifteen minutes a sensation of approaching -calamity had been growing upon him. The -proud spirit of defiance with which he had declared -himself well had forsaken him. His brain reeled -under a dull, oppressive weight. The dinner which -he had so recklessly devoured seemed like a mass of -hardening cement in his stomach; his lips trembled, -perspiration broke out on his forehead. -Utterly wretched, he dragged himself upstairs -to his room and sank into a chair by the -open window.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And you thought you could row!” he groaned. -“You poor fool!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>And then he was sick, violently sick, with convulsions -that shook his whole frame, sending great -throbs of pain crashing through his brain. He -dropped his clothes in a pile on the floor and crept -into bed, where he lay with cheek buried in the -pillow, listening horrified to his own heart beating -“tub-up! tub-up! tub-up!” in his ear. There was -no longer any doubt of his condition. “It’s my -heart!” he muttered wildly to himself. “My -heart has gone back on me. They knew more -about it than I did. I’m not fit to row!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The head throbs subsided after a time, and -Roger began to think. He recalled certain occasions -in his childhood when he had suffered -from sick headaches. His mother used to sit -beside him then, holding his hand, and, with her -quiet, soothing presence, helping him to bear the -pain. He missed her now, terribly. He felt, -too, that he had forfeited his right to her ministrations; -he had been disloyal to her, in intent at -least, when she had been steadfastly loyal to -him. The very command against which he had -rebelled was proof of her sympathy, for it was -the result of her effort to save his rowing when -his father would have forbidden it out of hand. -“She did her best for me,” he thought in keen -self-reproach, “and she trusted me, and I was -going back on her. It’s all up with the rowing -now; I shall never sit in a boat again, but -I’ll have the examination if I ever get out of -this, just to prove that I’m what she thinks I -am.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>This resolution brought him a certain composure. -He ceased to mourn, and presently fell -asleep. The sun was already slanting down -through his open window when he awoke. Mr. -Adams stood at the bedside.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How do you feel this morning?” asked the -master. “If sleep can cure you, you ought to -be well. You’ve slept over breakfast in spite -of all the noise.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’m better,” answered Roger, who had profited -by the interval to get his bearings. “My -head doesn’t ache any more, but I feel rather -weak and hollow.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We’ll send you up something to eat. What -shall it be?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I think I’d better see a doctor before I eat -anything,” replied the boy, humbly. His attitude -had changed over night.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Adams nodded approval to this sentiment. -“That’s right. You ought to have -seen one yesterday. I’ll telephone for Dr. Brayton. -In the meantime I’ll have them send up -a little toast. You can nibble on that if you -feel faint.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The toast came, and Roger nibbled on it as -long as it lasted. He felt better, far better. -The heart spell was evidently passing. Dunn -came in and sat on the bed for half an hour, telling -a long tale of his tragedy of hard work and not -forgetting at its close to exhort the patient to -keep up his courage and get well before Wednesday. -The exhortation drew a strained smile -to Roger’s face, such a smile as we assume to -shield from intruding eyes the knowledge of a -hurt—and the hurt smarted long after the complacent -Jason had left the room.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mike was the next visitor. He sat down with -sober face in a chair fronting the bed, and said -nothing after his “Hello, Roger!” for some time, -though he stole occasional shy glances at his sad-eyed -friend.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Are you much sick?” he asked at length.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t know,” answered Roger. “The doctor -will tell me when he comes.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Won’t it be terrible if you can’t row?” sighed -the boy, his big eyes soft with pity.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger squirmed. “It’ll be hard, of course, but -if I can’t, I can’t.” He tried to speak lightly, -but the attempt was a failure.</p> - -<p class='c008'>There was silence again for a time. Mike -looked obstinately down at the cap which he was -smoothing on his knee. Roger was thinking of -his condition and of the sacrifice which he was -making. He felt so much better this morning -that had it not been for the fatal heart weakness, -he could have fancied himself within a few hours -of complete recovery. He should be like Trask, -apparently perfectly well, but barred from everything -worth while—no more rowing, no more -football, no more long swims, or hard all-day -tramps over the mountain peaks with the joy of -covering, between breakfast and supper, the score -of steep miles which the average tramper was -happy to bring within the limits of two whole -days! Henceforth he must nurse himself and -avoid over-exertion and be content with golf or -tennis, playing with girls, perhaps, or kids! What -a dreary, disgusting prospect!</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Pitkin shirks,” offered Mike, who had been -pursuing his own train of thought.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger stared for an instant without comprehension. -Then, as he perceived that practical -Mike was worrying over the change in the first -boat, he answered hopefully, “He won’t shirk -in the race; he’ll put in all he has.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But he hasn’t the power.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Before Roger could meet this objection, a knock -was heard at the door. As Mr. Adams came in -with the doctor, Mike slipped away unnoticed. -Dr. Brayton sat down by the bedside, and in a very -friendly, comrade-like way asked the boy questions. -Then he felt the patient’s pulse, looked at -his tongue, put the stethoscope to his chest, took -his temperature. Afterwards he drew out a little -block in a neat leather case and wrote on the top -leaf certain mysterious words.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What’s the matter?” asked Roger, with an -anxious quaver in his voice.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Over-eating and worry,” answered the doctor, -laconically.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Is it bad?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The doctor smiled. “We shouldn’t call it a -very serious case.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I mean my heart,” faltered Roger.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Your heart! Have you had trouble with -your heart?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No-o, but my father has a bad heart, and I -could hear mine beat awfully hard last night. -I was afraid something was the matter with -it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The doctor took up his instrument and again -listened long and carefully. Roger could feel -his breath come and go with hurried, uneven -pace as the examination drew out. He was -excited, anxious, shrinking from the truth yet -eager to know the worst. It seemed ten minutes -before the doctor folded up his stethoscope and -returned it to his bag.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What’s wrong with it?” demanded the boy, -faintly, after waiting for some seconds for the -doctor to speak.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Nothing. It’s perfectly normal.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger gasped. “And it isn’t weak?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s as strong as a prize fighter’s. Your -trouble is with the digestion.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Shall I be laid up long?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not if you obey directions. You’ll have to -be careful for a day or two.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>A wonderful change swept over the patient’s -face. The dismal air of resignation to an evil -fate fell from him like a mask. His eyes flashed -bright with hope and eagerness. He popped into -a sitting posture with a quickness of recovery -that would have delighted Caffrey’s heart, and -stretched out both hands toward the physician.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Can I row on Wednesday? Oh, doctor, please -say I can!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dr. Brayton laughed aloud. “Not if you act -in that way. Lie down and keep quiet, and do -what you’re told.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ll do anything, starve or eat slops or lie -here like a log till Wednesday,” declared Roger, -as he fell back again in obedience to orders, “but -you’ve got to make me well enough to row. You’ll -do it, won’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We’ll see. Stay quietly in bed to-day, take -only the nourishment which I have ordered, and -don’t get up to-morrow until I come. You must -get your strength back before you can think of -rowing.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>For the rest of the day Roger lay in uneasy -happiness, taking with Fletcher-like deliberateness -the sloppy messes that were brought to him, -receiving visitors as they drifted in after church, -and kicking his legs like a lusty infant. The -burden of his despair had suddenly lifted as a -cloud cap lifts from a mountain peak and discloses -miles of glorious, sunny landscape that had -seemed but a little before as hopelessly buried -in gloom as the peak itself. At times he could -hardly restrain himself from leaping forth from -bed and dancing out his joy. In the afternoon, -when the fellows went off for walks, he took a -nap; he awoke refreshed and impatient to be -moving. He obeyed his orders, however, helped -out by a book and the presence of various friendly -souls who had time on their hands and could talk -indefinitely of nothing. At night he slept again -for long, unbroken hours.</p> - -<p class='c008'>In the morning the doctor came, looked him -over, ordered a beefsteak for his breakfast, and -told him to go back to school. Roger ate the -beefsteak with the satisfaction of a hungry tramp -who has chanced upon a square meal after an experience -of two days with dogs and crusts; but -before he left for school he slipped into the gymnasium -and tried a dozen strokes on the rowing -machine.</p> - -<p class='c008'>It was all right; he was a little weak, but he -could pull his old stroke. He had two days in -which to recover his strength.</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch24' class='c006'>CHAPTER XXIV <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>THE TRIALS</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>President John</span>, glorious in apparel and self-importance, -strutted along the boat-house float, -blowing cigarette smoke into the faces of waiting -oarsmen, playing the patronizing oracle to the -newspaper men, and juggling rowing terms for -the benefit of everybody within earshot. What -strings the genius of the Triangular League had -pulled with the Athletic Association to obtain his -appointment as race official we may not inquire; -of the fact there was no question. A certain -Mr. Henderson shared with him the responsibility -of being judge at the finish, but the glory of office -President John took to himself. In his eyes -Henderson was but the zero which added to one -makes ten. He himself was both the one and the -ten.</p> - -<p class='c008'>On a heap of sweaters in a corner of the open -room of the boat-house lay stretched the Westcott -crews, awaiting, under pretence of calmness, the -moment for carrying out their boats. They could -not start until the arrival of the launch which was -to bear the officials. Meantime various friends -who had smuggled themselves into the close -quarters clustered about to stay up their champions -and divert their minds from the race.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Ben has got his quinquereme out,” said Mike, -coming in from a visit to the float. “They’re -rowing round here challenging everybody to -race.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What’s the quinquereme?” asked Roger, -raising himself on his elbow.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s an old eight-oared ship’s cutter from -some Spanish war vessel, that Ben discovered -down by the East Cambridge bridge,” explained -Pete. “He’s filled it full of fellows who want to -see the races.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Why does he call it a quinquereme?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Because he likes the name, of course,” declared -Eaton, laughing. “He doesn’t care what -it means. Fluffy and his gang have picked up a -big dory thing they call a bireme. They’re going -to row the quinquereme.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s all over,” said Mike. “The quinquereme -beat out the bireme and the pair-oar. -Tracy says he’s going to challenge the second -next.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Let’s go out and see them,” proposed Roger. -He raised himself into a sitting position as if to -carry out his suggestion, but Talbot pulled him -back.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No, you don’t,” ordered the captain. “You -aren’t here to amuse yourself!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Just then the cry arose that the launch was -coming, and the non-combatants crowded to the -door. Through one of the wide arches of the -bridge, its parapet topped for a hundred yards by -a dense row of heads, the slender <i>Veritas</i> was -speeding down upon the boat-house.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Second crew out!” commanded Talbot. McDowell -and his men fetched their oars from the -corner and laid them side by side at the edge of -the float; then they brought out their boat, and, -dropping it into the water, fitted their oars into -the locks and took their places. When toe -straps were well adjusted and the slides fully -tested, friendly hands laid hold of the blades -of the port oars at Mac’s signal, and shoved the -boat forth.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Attention!” called Mike. “Ready!—Row!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The four oars took the water with a hard clean -catch. Backward swung the blue, white-lettered -jerseys in perfect unison; forward they -came again, their slides returning easily with the -motion of the boat, and again the blades snatched -at the water and drove it back in one steady, -prolonged push. The lads in the untippable old -quinquereme mounted their benches and yelled -the school cheers in a fierce burst of loyalty. A -knot of old Westcottites on the bank echoed the -cheer.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What a stroke that kid sets!” said Talbot. -“If he were only six inches taller and twenty -pounds heavier—”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I shouldn’t be on the first crew,” offered -Roger, as Pete hesitated.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Some of us wouldn’t, that’s a sure thing,” -returned Talbot. “We’ll watch the launch off, -and then go back and lie down.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The <i>Veritas</i> took on board the officials and the -newspaper men, and headed up river after the -crews. President John had elected to go with -the launch. He posted himself beside the steersman -in the bow, standing proudly erect to be -seen and admired of all men, and cast a long glance -backward at the common herd that thronged the -float.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Doesn’t he make you sick?” growled Talbot, -as they watched the <i>Veritas</i> plough her way upstream. -“I suppose Newbury isn’t responsible -for him, but I’d give my allowance for all summer -to be sure of getting ahead of him. I’d row till -I dropped dead rather than let that goat see us -beaten.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He won’t see our second beaten, to-day,” -said Eaton. “We’ve got the best thing in -seconds on the river.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But he’ll see <i>us</i> beaten,” returned the captain. -“I hate to give him so much rope, but second -place is good enough for us to-day. On Friday -we’ll have a real try at ’em.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>They lay down again in their old corner, telling -Rust to call them out when there was anything -to see.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“This is the worst part of it,” said Pete. -“There’s nothing so hard as waiting. How goes -it, Roger?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger shook his head with a melancholy little -smile that barely lifted the corners of his tight-closed -lips. Pete threw at him an uneasy look.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You don’t feel sick again, do you?” he asked -quickly.</p> - -<p class='c008'>This time Roger’s lips parted to a full grin, -“No,” he answered with emphasis. “I’m nervous, -that’s all. I want to be doing something.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’ll feel all right as soon as we get into -the boat,” rejoined Talbot, relieved. “What we -want is some one to jolly us up a little.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Just at that moment, as if in response to the -captain’s wish, a young man, displaying under a -panama hat a face wreathed with smiles, appeared -at the door and trotted towards the Westcott -corner.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s Happy Hutchins!” cried Pete. “Hello, -Hap! Why didn’t you come before, you old -fraud?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Hutchins was shaking hands violently all -round, calling every one by name as if he knew -the whole crew as well as he knew Pete and Eaton.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I couldn’t get here. I was afraid they weren’t -going to let me off at all. If they hadn’t, I’d -have cut the job entirely. How I’d like to be in -you fellows’ shoes! The Newbury cox will be -the only one on their boat to see Westcott’s to-day. -Gee, but I wish I was pulling an oar!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger glanced with curiosity at Pete’s face to -see what effect this boundless confidence had -upon him. Pete was grinning broadly, but only -with pleasure in Happy’s society. He didn’t -need the stimulus of artificial encouragement.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What’s the job, Hap?” asked Eaton.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Arlington Trust. Fill ink-wells and run errands. -Three dollars a week. It nearly pays for -my lunches.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Don’t get discouraged,” urged Pete. “Perhaps -you’ll be made a vice-president next year.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ll probably get a raise next year that’ll pay -my car fares,” answered Hutchins, calmly. -“Where’s old Withers? Do you suppose he’ll -remember me?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He’ll never forget the man that stepped -through the bottom of the pair-oar!” declared -Pete. “He’s sore about it yet.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>That was the first link in a chain of reminiscences -that sent the minutes flying. Hutchins -had not succeeded in getting into college in spite -of an extra year, and two long summers of arduous -slaving; but he was the jolliest, best-hearted -chap that Westcott’s had ever failed to make a -scholar of, and he couldn’t open his mouth without -being entertaining. Eaton had just reminded -him of his historic attempt to prove to the coach -by argument that he wasn’t feathering under, -when two harsh toots of a steam whistle cut his -explanations short and sobered all faces.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Trowbridge!” exclaimed Eaton and Pete, in -unison.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What’s ours?” asked Hutchins, quietly.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Three. If Trowbridge is ahead, we’re close -behind, you can depend on that,” said Talbot.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Let’s go out,” proposed Roger.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not yet. They’re some distance up, still.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>For two minutes they waited in silence, listening. -Then the whistle screeched once more, -this time distinctly nearer.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“One! Two!” counted Hutchins. “Trowbridge! -Come on out!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The captain made no objection, and the crowd -broke for the float. They were none too soon. -The launch was breasting the water a length out -from the arch in midstream. Alongside, but -still under the bridge, was Mac’s crew, an indistinct -streak in the shadow. From the second -arch inshore, the bow of the Trowbridge boat was -just emerging. Ten seconds later, both boats were -clear of the bridge, sweeping towards the finish -line. No other crew was in sight.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Pull there, Westcott’s!” yelled Hutchins, as -if he could reach the distant crew with his voice. -“Hit it up, stroke!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Talbot said nothing, but his eyes were glued on -the approaching boats, now hardly twenty strokes -from the finish line. His heart was heavy with -disappointment. He had expected much from -this second crew. When doubts as to his own -assailed him, his faith in Mac’s crew had never -wavered. He had expected them to win their -trial heat with ease, to make up in a measure for -the chagrin the school would feel if the first only -gained second place.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Gee! see ’em hit up the stroke!” cried Hutchins, -suddenly gripping Pete’s arm and dancing -in the water that flooded the float. “Look at -’em gain! That’s the way, Westcott’s! They -can’t meet it! Look at their heads roll round! -They’re all in. You’ve got ’em, Westcott’s. -Hold ’em! Hold ’em!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>At this point Hutchins broke off his wild ejaculations -to splash across to a cluster of old Westcottites -standing near the boat-house and lead a -cheer. While the cheer rang out, Mike was -counting the last half-dozen strokes, and urging -his men to row them hard. His boat cut the -finish line half a length ahead of Trowbridge, -whose exhausted oarsmen fell forward upon their -oars as the coxswain bade them cease rowing. -The spurt had caught them with no surplus of -strength to draw upon.</p> - -<p class='c008'>After this there was no need of artificial diversion -in the boat-house. The fellows on the second -vowed that they had lots of strength left, that they -were holding back so as to keep Trowbridge from -pushing too hard, and that they could have kept -the lead from the beginning if they had wanted -to—all of which was believed because it was -pleasant to believe. The exchange of questions -and answers, explanations and congratulations -absorbed every one’s attention until the -toots of the launch again called the crowd forth -to see the finish of the last heat of the seconds.</p> - -<p class='c008'>And now the moment was come which Talbot’s -crew had been both longing for and dreading. As -he helped carry the boat out, Roger was conscious -of a shrinking—a nervous, unsettling fear that his -strength and skill might not be equal to the test -before him. He glanced at Pete to see if he too -felt the depressing influence, but the captain’s -face showed only a deeper line of determination -about the mouth, and his voice as he gave the -necessary orders sounded calm and reassuring. -The unnatural tension was at its height as Roger -sat with arms outstretched for the catch, waiting -for the coxswain’s word. It clung to him still -during the first strokes, as the boat got under way -from the float. Then gradually the familiar -movement absorbed his attention, and the grip -on his heart loosened. The harmony of the -swaying bodies, the monotonous creak of the -slides on their rollers, the wash of the water -against the sides, the “feel” of the boat beneath -him as it drove steadily forward—all contributed -to wake in him the old confidence and exhilaration.</p> - -<p class='c008'>As the crew passed under the bridge on their -way to the starting line, the cheers from admirers -above descended in a loud blare, but by this time -he was beyond the need of such encouragement. -He knew that the boat was going well, he exulted -in the conviction that he had his form and his -strength, and could row that day as well as any -other.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The crews got off well. The dozen quick -starting strokes put the nose of the Westcott boat -six feet ahead of Newbury. Brookfield High -and Boston Latin were still farther behind. -Roger was a little dilatory in obeying the starting -signal, and as a result, in his efforts to follow his -leader, he rowed his first strokes too much with his -arms; but by the time Pete lengthened out, he -was in form again, his legs thrusting strongly -against the stretcher, his blade catching the water -sharply and hard, his pull straight through to -the end of the long stroke. He bore in mind the -last warning he had received from the coach, and -gave particular attention to getting his hands -away quickly, keeping in the middle of the boat -and avoiding the abrupt return technically known -as “rushing the slide.” He saw nothing but the -back of the man in front of him, heard nothing -but the exhortations of the coxswain, until four -blasts of the whistle close at hand assured him that -the Westcott boat was leading. Soon after this -he began to feel tired, and wondered vaguely if -he were not pulling too hard, but with the second -toot of the whistle this sense of weariness yielded -somewhat, and a glimpse caught over Eaton’s -shoulder of Brookfield High, lengths behind, gave -him courage.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Halfway!” called Rust. “Keep it up now, -Newbury’s gaining. Watch your form, Bow!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>From the launch came the signal that Westcott -had lost the lead to Newbury. Roger wondered -if he were really rowing badly or was just being -warned to prevent a slump. He wondered also -whether Talbot would spurt or let Newbury go -ahead. And while he wondered, toiling at his -oar and watching his slide, he felt the stroke -quicken and rallied to meet it.</p> - -<p class='c008'>And then a new sound reached his ears, the -sound of school cheers from the bridge. Again -the launch whistled four times. They were -ahead again! The cheers were clearer now and -close at hand. Roger’s breath was coming hard -with every stroke; he got no rest on the returning -slide; his legs were weakening, he was tired all -over, but not too tired to row; and he drove his -protesting muscles as if they were things separate -from himself, and he a cruel master lashing -them on.</p> - -<p class='c008'>As they passed into the shadow of the bridge, -the launch sent forth a single long shriek. The -sound filled the Westcott bow oar with furious -resentment. Was Pete going to let Newbury slip -in ahead now, after holding them the whole distance? -Why didn’t he spurt? Why didn’t he -give his crew a chance to win its proper place? -The spirit of battle that surged through Roger’s -heart blotted out the consciousness of weariness -and feebleness; he yearned for the opportunity to -do something more than pull with all his might -at the stroke set him.</p> - -<p class='c008'>But Pete did not respond to the ardent wish of -the bow oar. The race was approaching its end. -The launch gave its final signal—one hateful blast.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Ten strokes more!” yelled Rust. “Make it -good now. Hard! Hard!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Then Talbot, either to test his crew or to show -what he could do if he tried, suddenly “hit her -up.” Bow oar met the challenge with a burst of -furious energy. He was mad all through. He -felt like tearing his outrigger from the side, like -driving his stretcher into Eaton’s back. Those -ten strokes were the hardest Roger had ever rowed. -The boat leaped forward. The lead of three-quarters -of a length which Newbury had, grew -less with every push of the Westcott oars.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Let her run!” called Rust, and the crew rested. -Newbury had won, by a quarter of a length. -Roger held himself upright, though breathing -heavily. His limbs were in a quiver, his heart -was sore against Pete’s cautious policy. They -had lost a race that might have been won! Brookfield -was splashing along five lengths away, trying -hard to avoid the ignominy of being last.</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch25' class='c006'>CHAPTER XXV <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>THE FINAL STRUGGLE</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>President John</span> hurried from the launch to -the Newbury crew, who were stiffly disembarking -at the side of the float.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“A splendid race!” he cried exultantly, as he -grasped the hand of the victorious captain; “a -splendid race! That’s the way to do the thing,—get -the lead in the first half of the course and hold -it. And you had plenty of strength in reserve, -too, didn’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Downs glanced a little doubtfully at his men. -“I think so.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’ll do it easier next time,” asserted the -distinguished man. “A defeat like this breaks -the spirit of a crew. What you want now is a -good rest. I’ll see if I can’t get you a holiday -for to-morrow.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That would be great! Do you think you -can?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>President John’s knowing smile suggested -mysterious reaches of influence which he was -much too modest to mention. “I guess it can -be arranged. We can’t afford to take any risks. -The first name on that cup has got to be Newbury -Latin.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Westcott’s paddled in to the float, turning their -boat over directly to Bainbridge Latin. Roger -stripped for the shower in silence with lowering -face.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How do you feel now it’s over?” asked -Pete, after staring for some seconds at his sullen -companion. “All in?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No! Mad and disgusted!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’ve nothing to be disgusted about,” -said Eaton. “Rust says you pulled like a fiend -the whole way. I’m the one to be disgusted. I -didn’t row myself out at all.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s just it! If Pete had put up the stroke -two minutes earlier, we’d have left ’em behind -half a length! Now they’ll crow and the newspapers -will call us a sandy but outclassed crew, -and half the fellows will believe it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Cut out the growling!” commanded the -captain. “What I did was right, and I’d do it -again. I didn’t know how you fellows were standing -it, and there was no use in killing ourselves, -with the finals on for day after to-morrow. But -I’ll give you one sure pointer: you’ll have all the -spurting you want on Friday.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Bring on your spurt!” snapped the bow oar. -“We’ll meet you.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger felt calmer after his shower—calm enough -to regret his rash boast. Pete had the pluck -inherent in good blood, the indomitable spirit -that faces odds undaunted, and only fails when -brain and body can no longer serve it,—and -Pete was not one to forget. It was a foolish thing -to say, especially for an inexperienced oar who -had rowed but one race in his life, but as the -boast could not now be retracted, the only course -for Roger to pursue was to carry it out. This -he secretly resolved to do if his good-for-nothing -legs didn’t go back on him.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The papers next morning were scanned with -eagerness. They generally considered that first -place in the finals would lie between Bainbridge -Latin, which had run away from its rivals in the -second heat, and Newbury, with Westcott’s a -good third. All agreed that Westcott’s was -likely to win the race for seconds.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s a wonder they concede that much,” -said Pete, sarcastically. “They always act surprised -if we win anything.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dickie Sumner, made audacious by the knowledge -that he was the bearer of important news, -came pushing into the group of older boys that -filled the big bay window. “Have you heard -about the Newbury crew’s getting a holiday?” -he demanded.</p> - -<p class='c008'>His brother Jack seized him roughly. “What -is it?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They’re going down to Cohasset to spend -to-day and to-night. They aren’t coming back -to school until ten o’clock to-morrow, and they -don’t have to prepare any lessons.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Who told you?” asked Jack, suspiciously.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Winny Thorne. I saw him on the car. His -brother’s on their crew.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And we’ve got to stay here all day and study -all the evening on to-morrow’s lessons!” exclaimed -Louis. “It’s a roast!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They ought to let the first crew off, anyway,” -said Eaton. “The second doesn’t need it so -much.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They could come down with me to Manchester,” -offered Rust. “The house is open, and -I could take care of five perfectly well.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Do you suppose the old man would let us?” -asked Eaton.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Talbot considered. “He might, if we could -make him see that it’s necessary. I’ll try him, -anyway.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>After the opening Bible-reading, the captain -of the crew followed Mr. Westcott to the office. -He returned in three minutes, crestfallen. “It’s -no go,” he passed the news along. “He wouldn’t -even discuss it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Some very sour faces scowled over the tops of -books for the next half-hour. Those near the -windows stole occasional glances into the street -and across to the Garden beyond. It was a perfect -June day, warm and quiet, with limpid air -sleepily stirring and the sun beaming benignly -over all. The autos of the unimprisoned idle -slid by in endless succession, bearing their fortunate -occupants whithersoever fancy called. The new -green leaves on the trees in the Garden quivered -soothingly over the groups of nurses and perambulators -and playing children, and the poverty-blessed -loafers slouching in unambitious contentment -on the benches. And this beautiful day -Newbury could enjoy, care-free, on the rocks at -Cohasset, while the Westcott fellows were mewed -up in a stuffy schoolroom, grinding out loathsome -lessons. It was wicked!</p> - -<p class='c008'>The day passed as others before it. Lessons -had to be learned and recitations made. That -night every oarsman was pledged to be in bed at -half-past nine. Out at Adams’s all noise was forbidden -after nine o’clock, on pain of frightful -tortures. Roger slept ten hours without a break, -and awoke at sound of the rising bell, feeling -strong enough to row the race alone.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The school hours of Friday dragged out their -wonted course. At two, Talbot was called to the -telephone, and emerged, chuckling tremendously, -to meet McDowell at the foot of the stairs.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s the biggest joke I ever heard. The Newbury -fellows sat round on the rocks all day yesterday -in sleeveless shirts, and burnt their arms -so that they couldn’t sleep at all last night. And -we slept like tops!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Gee, but that’s great!” crowed Mac. “I -hope the old man won’t hear about it, though!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Where you going?” demanded the captain, -as Mac started up the stairs. “You ought to be -getting out to the boat-house.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Volunteer French,” answered Mac, calmly. -“I can’t afford to miss it. I only got fifty on -my last exam. The race doesn’t come till three-thirty. -I’ll be out in time.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Talbot gaped after the lithe figure as it scurried -up the stairs. “After-school work on the day of -the race!” he gasped. “And Newbury with two -days off! This is a pretty school!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mac turned up at three o’clock, whistling as -unconcernedly as if he were out for an ordinary -practice, quite undisturbed by the reproaches -hurled at his head. By the time he was dressed -the <i>Veritas</i> was in sight, bringing the whole -Varsity crew to see the races, and sailing under -the command of Deering himself. President John -again elected to go on the launch, convinced that -here his light would shine more brilliantly, and -desiring to make sure in advance of the best -vantage-point from which to gloat over the whole -triumphant course of his crew when the great -race came off.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The atmosphere on the launch that day was -unfavorable to the shining of lesser lights. Deering’s -authority and Deering’s personality dominated -the little craft. Though the Varsity captain -spoke pleasantly to the referee, discussed the -arrangement for sending off the boats with the -starter, and greeted one of the newspaper reporters -cordially as “Billy,” he ignored completely the -presence of the father of the Triangular League, -who sat obscurely in the stern, scowling with -affected indifference over his cigarette.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He won’t speak to me, eh! Just like a Westcott -snob!” the president muttered to himself. -“What do I care? He won’t be so proud when -he sees Newbury lead his school by four or five -lengths. I hope Yale will lick his crew to their -knees!”—a feat, by the way, which Yale failed -to achieve by some quarter of a mile.</p> - -<p class='c008'>To the Varsity men in the bow of the <i>Veritas</i>, -the race for second crews seemed a tame affair. -Westcott’s got a lead of half a length at the start, -increased it to a whole one at the quarter, doubled -this advantage during the next half mile, and -added still another length in a pretty display-spurt -beyond the bridge. Hoarse and happy, -Mike brought his boat in to the float past a crowd -of yelling, dancing friends who were putting to -an extreme test the boasted stability of the old -Spanish cutter. The members of the first crew, -delighted to consider the complete victory of -their schoolmates a good omen for their own -race, helped Mac and his men out of their boat -and poured sweet praises into their ears.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Nothing like a little extra French after school -to get you ready for a race,” panted Mac, as -Talbot wrung his hand and blessed him with a -dozen different kinds of exclamation. “I hope -you fellows won’t suffer from lack of it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Suffer from lack of it, you old idiot! Do -you suppose we have strength to throw away?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Get a lead in the beginning,” urged Mac, becoming -serious. “It’s a lot easier to keep it than -to get it after you’ve lost it. Newbury will quit -if you can once show them your rudder.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Pete nodded.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And drive your crew,” continued Mac. “They -can stand a lot more than they did on Wednesday.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I think they’ll have a chance for all the work -they want to do. I’ll try to satisfy even Roger.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Bow oar reddened, but said nothing. He knew -well that Pete would push the crew to its last -gasp, and he had doubts as to his ability to hold -his own with the hard-muscled, strong-headed -stroke, who was as incapable of yielding as the -Old Guard of surrendering, or the dying bulldog -of relinquishing his grip on his enemy. There was -one method, of course, by which Roger could meet -the strain, and come out fresh at the end to smile -at Pete’s challenge. He might weaken just a -little on his pull as the labor told, might put a -trifle less than his best into his stroke, and thus -shrewdly save himself from extreme exhaustion. -But to do that was to be a quitter, and bow oar’s -scorn for a quitter was equal to Pete’s. “I’ll -give him all I’ve got, anyway,” he said to himself. -“If I break, it will be because I can’t row any more, -not because I won’t.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>There was trouble in starting. Westcott’s and -Bainbridge got twice into position and drifted -away again before the others, shuffling for places, -reached the line. Waterville was badly cox-swained; -Newbury apparently loitered on purpose, -hoping, after the manner of certain Varsity -crews at New London, to worry opponents by -prolonged suspense. So at least Pete opined, -and his word, passed back through the boat, set -four pairs of jaws tight together and swamped -all nervous fear under a hot wave of determination. -When the pistol-shot rang forth, Newbury’s -oar-blades were already in the water. As the -stroke lengthened out, after a hundred yards, -Newbury and Bainbridge were neck and neck, -half a length ahead of Westcott’s, which was rowing -a steady, smooth stroke which looked like -an exhibition of skill, yet carried with it the -united heave of four straining bodies.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Those Westcott fellows aren’t bad,” said -Deering, who stood beside reporter Billy and -watched the struggling oarsmen with the eye of -an expert. “They move well, catch together, -and get their hands away quickly.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Good crew!” answered Billy, wisely, “but -too light to last well. They’re coming up on -Newbury now. It’s about time for Bainbridge -to shake ’em both.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Deering was silent for some seconds, gazing -with that concentration of attention which a -horse fancier gives to the movements of a blooded -steed. “That crew is going to be hard to shake,” -he said finally. “They’ve got a half length on Newbury -without raising the stroke more than a point. -There’s hardly any check between strokes.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And Bainbridge has got a length,” said Billy, -significantly.</p> - -<p class='c008'>In the Westcott boat Rust was urging Two -to be careful about his slide, and informing Talbot -of the relative position of the crews. Pete raised -the stroke slightly, and his crew pushed a whole -length ahead of Newbury, which likewise spurted, -but lost through inferior form the advantage -gained by the accelerated stroke.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Halfway!” yelled Rust. “We’ve got a -good length on Newbury. Steady now! Hard -all the way through! Don’t rush your slide, -Two!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Talbot held to the increased stroke, sure that -the critical moment of the contest with Newbury -was at hand; if he could open water between the -boats, he was confident that Newbury would -never rally. His men followed him in splendid -unison. For Roger the first great weariness had -passed. He was rowing mechanically now, putting -into his drive all the strength which he thought -safe to force from himself, his whole attention -concentrated on his oar and his slide and the back -of the man before him. He heard the four blasts -of the whistle which announced that Bainbridge -was leading, but he cared little for that; he was -rowing to beat Newbury, and Newbury was -behind!</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Open water!” exclaimed Billy. “Half a -length of open water! I wish I had taken that -bet of three to one on Newbury against Westcott’s. -Newbury’s out of it for sure.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not yet!” said a stifled voice at his elbow. -“I’m not giving up yet. They’ll come up on ’em. -They’ve got to.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Billy turned to find John Smith at his side, -occupying the place of the Harvard captain who -had gone aft to his crew. President John’s -eyes were fixed upon the Westcott boat in a -hostile glare, his hands tightly gripping the rail, -his face drawn with suppressed emotion.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Make it up!” answered the unsympathetic -Billy. “How are they going to make up two -lengths against that crew? Why, the more they -try to spurt, the worse they row! Number Three -there is about all in now. You can see it yourself.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Bainbridge will beat ’em anyway,” muttered -Smith, fiercely. “Go it, Bainbridge! Kill ’em, -Bainbridge!”</p> - -<div id='i325' class='figcenter id009'> -<img src='images/i325.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic002'> -<p>“<span class='sc'>Go it, Bainbridge! Kill ’em, Bainbridge!</span>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>Billy threw a glance of curiosity at his neighbor’s -face and grinned broadly. “Been betting heavy -against Westcott’s and feels sore,” he said to himself; -but Billy was mistaken. It wasn’t a losing -wager that charged that face with venom, but -defeat and wounded vanity. President John -considered himself a sportsman; in fact he was -only a partisan; rabid, narrow, unforgiving. He -hated the crew that was vanquishing his own, that -was stealing from him the triumph which he had -confidently expected and in the prospect of which -he had openly gloried.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The crews were close to the bridge now. Roger -longed for the comfort of its shadow, longed for -the word of the coxswain that the end was near. -He felt now as he swung forward to his catch that -he had but a half-dozen more strokes in his body. -To row another hundred yards seemed absolutely -impossible.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Bainbridge only two-thirds of a length ahead!” -shouted Rust. In answer Pete bellowed over -his shoulder: “Get into it now! Don’t quit!” -Roger felt the stroke quicken and mechanically -followed. For the first time during the race the -remembrance of Pete’s challenge recurred to him. -He was worn and weak; his eyes bleared, his -head was a dull depressing weight upon his -shoulders, every muscle in his body cried aloud -for mercy; but his spirit rose in defiance and sent -along the quivering nerves a command which -the muscles could not disobey.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Only half a length now!” cried Rust, as the -boat emerged beyond the bridge. “You can -do it, only twelve more!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Talbot lifted his stroke another notch, and Rust -counted. At each pull Roger assured himself -that he could do one more, and threw into that -one all the power that was in him. He could -hardly see Eaton’s back as it swayed before him. -The race had lost interest for him; he was fighting -Talbot, proving that he was no quitter.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Seven—eight,” counted Rust. “Pull! Pull! -You’re almost there!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Four more! To Roger those four strokes -seemed like four of the labors of Hercules. He -could do but one before he broke,—but one more -after that. Dizziness came sweeping over him, -he gasped hard for breath. One more before -he fainted!—</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Let her run!” screamed the coxswain.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger dropped, but caught himself by a supreme -effort as Pete turned his dripping, heaving shoulder -to look at his crew. Over the stooping bodies -of Three and Two he saw the upright form of Bow, -smiled faintly, and lurched heavily forward, while -Rust splashed water into his face. Behind him -Bow slumped down upon his oar.</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='ch26' class='c006'>CHAPTER XXVI <br /> <br /> <span class='small'>CONCLUSION</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c007'>“<span class='sc'>Westcott’s</span> by six feet!” announced Mr. -Henderson, judge at the finish, as the crowd -pressed about him to learn the official verdict.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mac and his men burst forth in a howl of joy. -Trask threw up his arms and yelled the news -across the water to the crew of the quinquereme, -who went wild with excitement. Their historic -boat, which had escaped the missiles of war unscathed, -very nearly succumbed to the perils of -peace. The <i>Veritas</i>, swinging round to the float -after the laggard crews had crept in, found the -cutter shoved directly into its path through the -efforts of two lads who continued to chop the -water vehemently while they yelled, as oblivious -to the direction they were taking as stokers in -the hold of a steamship to the course laid down -by the navigator. The Varsity manager, who -was steering the launch, backed his engine and -saved the cutter for another race day.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Meantime Billy was scribbling notes on a block -of yellow paper, Deering was smiling in dignified -exultation among his crew, and President John, -his face white with ill-suppressed rage, was reviling -to two curious reporters the folly of the Newbury -oarsmen who had thrown away a sure victory.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The very best crew on the river!” he declared -with emphatic spacing of words and savage jerks -of the head. “Look at the weight and strength -in that boat! Why, they pulled away from -Westcott’s on Wednesday without half trying. -It was just a little practice spin for ’em. Then -I got ’em a holiday yesterday at the shore, and -what did they do? Trotted round on the rocks -and played ball in the red-hot sun in sleeveless -shirts! Burnt their arms raw, of course. They -didn’t get a wink of sleep all last night.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Westcott’s had it on ’em to-day all right”, -remarked the reporter. “That crew looked pretty -good to me!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s a fair enough sort of a crew, but they had -luck and we didn’t. That’s just what beat us, -hard luck.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Smith turned away to leave the launch, which -was already fast. The <i>Ledger</i> man glanced after -him and winked at his companion.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Sore!” said the latter, tersely.</p> - -<p class='c008'>By this time the Westcott oarsmen had revived -and brought their boat in to the float. Here, in -the forefront of the enthusiasts, stood a tall, -deep-chested young man, wearing a hatband with -the revered crimson and black vertical stripes, -who shook hands with each weary rower as he -left the boat and gave him a personal compliment -which was destined to remain a cherished memory -when the general events of school life should have -faded into the limbo of things forgotten. Then -Deering returned to the launch, which was soon -speeding up the river to its moorings; and the -Westcott crew, already recovering from the grinding -strain through the quick recuperative power -of sturdy boyhood, and too happy to heed their -exhaustion, carried their boat into the house, -where they gave themselves up to the refreshing -luxury of the shower bath and the delight of -mutual congratulations.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The next day was a happy one for the boys at -Westcott’s. From the older fellows who hailed -the triumph of their fortunate mates with a delight -untouched by envy, to the little chaps in knee -trousers in whose eyes the members of the first -crew were as demigods, complacency and pride -pervaded the school like a mild intoxication. -Mr. Westcott made a speech of congratulation -in which he expressed himself as especially pleased -that such excellent crews had been developed -without interference with the regular daily work—a -sentiment which the boys, if they did not -appreciate, were, under the circumstances, willing -to forgive. Pete, too, made a speech—a jerky, -inartistic, vehement little harangue, strong in patriotism -though weak in rhetoric, which was uproariously -applauded. Then the cheers were let -loose, a din that made the windows rattle and -caused the neighbors for half a block to regret -that they had not fixed upon an earlier date for -migrating to the quiet of the country. “<i>It -clamor cœlo</i>,” muttered Mr. Stevens, senior classical -master, with a quiet smile, and he stole away -to his own recitation room to save his ear-drums.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Almost as noisy was the welcome given a few -days later to the cup itself, when it made its -second appearance before the school, coming -this time for a year’s sojourn. President John, -who had gulped down the bitter medicine which -had been forced upon him, and now was trying -to forget the taste of it, sent with the trophy a -flowery note which Mr. Westcott read to an appreciative -audience.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ll bet he swore when he wrote that,” whispered -Wilmot to his seat-mate.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Pete nodded. “It must have come hard. -When he showed the thing to us last fall, I never -expected to see it here again.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They probably can’t keep it another year,” -said Steve, loftily. “There won’t be much here -after we leave.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>But the little boys of big faith, in the front -seats, who were straining their eyes to make out -the inscription on the first shield, had not shared -the anxieties of their elders, nor did they now -worry about the year to come. They had known -all along that their champions could be trusted -to bring the school colors out on top, while as for -the future—what future was there but the June -examinations and the summer vacation?</p> - -<p class='c008'>One more formality had still to be attended to -before the athletic season could be declared closed,—the -election of a captain of the crew for the -next year. It was merely a formality, for, since -Roger Hardie was the only one of the five who -would not graduate, the choice was strictly limited.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s a great honor to be captain of the Westcott -crew,” said Roger, as he came downstairs -with Pete after the meeting, “but I wish there -had been some competition. It’s like winning a -race by default.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You didn’t do any defaulting in the race,” -replied Talbot, somewhat illogically, “though -I was a good deal troubled about you early in the -season. I had a guilty conscience for several -weeks.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Why?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Because I had prevented your being made -captain of the eleven.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I knew you did. You didn’t think I was fit -for it. I didn’t blame you.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Nonsense! I wanted you for the crew captain -next year. I took long odds, and I couldn’t -explain because I couldn’t be sure you’d make -good. At one time I thought you never would.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Roger gave a laugh of contentment. “I was -an awful dub at first. Wilmot wanted to fire -me out of the pair-oar.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And I wouldn’t let him,” said Pete, complacently. -“I thought you had the stuff in you, -if we could only bring it out. Next year you’ll -be first lord of the school, and I shall be lost -among six hundred freshmen.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Lost!” echoed Roger, derisively. “Anybody -can find <i>you</i> easy enough, if he’ll only search -the freshman boat. Your seat will be down somewhere -near the stern.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div>THE END.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c002' /> -</div> - <ul class='ul_1 c002'> - <li>Transcriber’s Notes: - <ul class='ul_2'> - <li>Missing or obscured punctuation was corrected. - </li> - <li>Unbalanced quotation marks were left as the author intended. - </li> - <li>Typographical errors were silently corrected. - </li> - <li>Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were only made consistent when a predominant - form was found in this book: e.g. “practice” and “programe.” - </li> - </ul> - </li> - </ul> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The School Four, by Albertus T. 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