HE RAISED THE BALL IN HIS ARMS, AND PLACED IT OVER THECHALK MARK.]
THE WINNING TOUCHDOWN
A Story of College Football
by
LESTER CHADWICK
Author of "The Rival Pitchers," "A Quarter-Back'sPluck," "Batting to Win," etc.
Illustrated
New YorkCupples & Leon Company
* * * * *
BOOKS BY LESTER CHADWICK
=THE COLLEGE SPORTS SERIES=
12mo. Illustrated
Price per volume, $1.00 postpaid
THE RIVAL PITCHERS A Story of College Baseball
A QUARTER-BACK'S PLUCK A Story of College Football
BATTING TO WIN A Story of College Baseball
THE WINNING TOUCHDOWN A Story of College Football
(Other volumes in preparation)
_Cupples & Leon Company, Publishers, New York_
* * * * *
Copyright 1911, byCupples & Leon Company
THE WINNING TOUCHDOWN
Printed in U. S. A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE I A MYSTERY 1 II MORE BAD NEWS 8 III ON THE TRAIL 19 IV ANOTHER DISAPPEARANCE 26 V FOOTBALL TALK 36 VI IN PRACTICE 43 VII A NEW TIMEPIECE 53 VIII ANOTHER IDEA 61 IX A CLASH WITH LANGRIDGE 67 X THE BIG CALIFORNIAN 73 XI A NEW COMPLICATION 80 XII THE MISSING DEED 89 XIII THE FIRST GAME 98 XIV THE HAZING OF SIMPSON 109 XV THE MIDNIGHT BLAZE 120 XVI ANOTHER CLEW 129 XVII A CRASH IN THE GALE 136 XVIII WITH HAMMER AND SAW 141 XIX SUSPICIONS 150 XX THE CLOCK COMES BACK 158 XXI SEEKING EVIDENCE 167 XXII BASCOME DENIES 173 XXIII HALED TO COURT 181 XXIV DEFEAT 188 XXV BITTER DAYS 200 XXVI MOSES IN PHYSICS 206 XXVII THE DANCE CARD 213 XXVIII THE LEGAL BATTLE 225 XXIX ONE POINT LOST 233 XXX AN UNEXPECTED CLEW 240 XXXI AFTER THE CHAIR 249 XXXII "THIS ISN'T OURS!" 260 XXXIII A GREAT FIND 271 XXXIV THE EXCITED STRANGER 276 XXXV THE WINNING TOUCHDOWN 283
THE WINNING TOUCHDOWN
CHAPTER I
A MYSTERY
"Great Cicero's ghost!"
That was Tom Parson's exclamation.
"It's gone!"
A horrified gasp from Sid Henderson.
"Who took it?"
That was what Phil Clinton wanted to know.
Then the three college chums, who had paused on the threshold of theirroom, almost spellbound at the astounding discovery they had made,advanced into the apartment, as if unable to believe what was only tooevident. Tom came to a halt near his bed, and gazed warily around.
"It's sure enough gone," he went on, with a long breath.
"Somebody pinch me to see if I'm dreaming," begged Sid, and Phil gavehim such a vigorous nip on the fleshy part of his leg that the tallyouth howled.
"Turn over; you're on your back," advised Tom, as he got down on hishands and knees to peer under the beds.
"What are you looking for?" demanded Phil.
"Our old armchair, of course. I thought maybe some of the fellowshad been in here trying to be funny, and had hidden it. But it isn'there--it's gone."
"As if it could be under a bed!" exploded Sid, rubbing his legreflectively. "You must be getting batty!"
"Maybe he thought it could be reduced to fractions or acted on bychemicals, like some of the stuff in the laboratory test tubes," wenton Phil.
"That's all right!" fired back the varsity pitcher, rather sharply,"it's gone, isn't it? Our old armchair, that stood by us, and----"
"And on which _we_ stood when we couldn't find the stepladder,"interrupted Phil.
"Oh, quit your kidding!" expostulated Tom. "The old chair's gone; isn'tit?"
"You never said a truer word in all your life, my boy," declared Sid,more gravely.
"Sort of queer, too," declared Phil. "It was here when we went out tofootball practice, and now----"
"Well, all I've got to say is that I'd like to find the fellow who tookit!" broke out Tom, dramatically. "I'd make a complaint to the proctorabout him."
"Oh, you wouldn't do that; would you, Tom?" and Phil Clinton steppedover to a creaking old sofa, and peered behind it, brushing up againstit, and causing a cloud of dust to blow out about the room. "Youwouldn't do that, Tom. Why, it isn't Randall spirit to go to theauthorities with any of our troubles that can be settled otherwise."
"But this isn't an ordinary trouble!" cried the pitcher. "Our old chairhas been taken, and I'm going to find out who's got it. When I do----"
He clenched his fists suggestively, and began to strip off his footballtogs, preparatory to donning ordinary clothes.
"It isn't back there," announced Phil, as he leaned upright again, aftera prolonged inspection behind the big sofa. "But there's a lot of truckthere. I think I see my trigonometry." Getting down on his hands andknees, and reaching under the antiquated piece of furniture, he pulledout not one but several books.
"Oh, come out and let the stuff back of the sofa alone," suggested Tom."We can clean that out some other time," for the big piece of furnitureformed a convenient "catch-all" for whatever happened to be in the wayof the lads. If there was anything they did not have any immediate usefor, and for which room could not be found in, or on, the "Chauffeurs,"as Holly Cross used to call the chiffonniers, back of the sofa it went,until such time as the chums had an occasional room-cleaning. Then manylong-lost articles were discovered.
"Yes, there's no use digging any more," added Sid. "Besides, the chaircouldn't be there."
"Some of the fellows might have jammed it in back of the sofa, Ithought," spoke Phil. "But say, this is serious. We can't get alongwithout our chair!"
"I should say not," agreed Tom, who was almost dressed. "I'm going outscouting for it. Bascome, Delafield or some of those fresh sports mayhave taken it to get even with us."
"They knew we cared a lot for it," declared Sid. "Ever since we had thatrow about it with Langridge, the time we moved into these dormitories,some of the fellows have rigged us about it."
"If Langridge were here we could blame him, and come pretty near beingright," was Phil's opinion. "But he's at Boxer Hall yet--at least, Isuppose he is."
"Yes, he's on their eleven, too, I hear," added Tom. "But this sure is amystery, fellows. That chair never walked away by itself. And it's tooheavy and awkward for one fellow to carry alone. We've got to get busyand find it."
"We sure have," agreed Phil. "Why, the room looks bare without it;doesn't it?"
"Almost like a funeral," came mournfully from Sid, as he sank into thedepths of the sofa. And then a silence fell upon the inseparable chums,a silence that seemed to fill the room, and which was broken only by theticking of a fussy little alarm clock.
"Oh, hang it!" burst out Tom, as he loosened his tie and made the knotover. "I can't understand it! I'm going to see Wallops, the messenger.Maybe he saw some one sneaking around our rooms."
"If we once get on the trail----" said Phil, significantly.
"It sure is rotten luck," spoke Sid, from the depths of the sofa. "Idon't have to do any boning to-night, and I was counting on sitting inthat easy chair, and reading a swell detective yarn Holly Cross loanedme. Now--well, it's rotten luck--that's all."
"It certainly is!"
agreed a voice at the door, as the portal opened togive admittance to Dan Woodhouse--otherwise Kindlings. "Rotten luckisn't the name for it. It's beastly! But how did you fellows hear thenews?"
"How did we hear it?" demanded Tom. "Couldn't we see that it wasn't hereas soon as we got in our room, a few minutes ago? But how did you cometo know of it? Say, Kindlings, you didn't have a hand in it, did you?"and Tom strode over toward the newcomer.
"Me have a hand in it? Why, great Caesar's grandmother! Don't you supposeI'd have stopped it if I could? I can't for the life of me, though,understand where you heard it. Ed Kerr only told me ten minutes ago, andhe said I was the first to know it."
"Ed Kerr!" gasped Phil. "Did he have a hand in taking our old chair?"
"Your chair?" gasped Dan. "Who in the world is talking about your fuzzyold chair?"
"Hold on!" cried Tom. "Don't you call our chair names, Kindlings,or----"
"Tell us how you heard about it," suggested Sid.
"Say, are you fellows crazy, or am I?" demanded Dan, looking about incurious bewilderment. "I come here with a piece of news, and I find youfiring conundrums at me about a chair that I wouldn't sit in if you gaveit to me."
"None of us is likely to sit in it now," spoke Phil, gloomily.
"Why not?" asked Dan.
"Because it's gone!" burst out Tom.
"Stolen," added Sid.
"Vanished into thin air," continued Phil.
"And if that isn't rotten luck, I don't know what you'd call it," putin the pitcher, after a pause, long enough to allow the fact to sinkinto Dan's mind. "Isn't it?"
"Say, that's nothing to what I've got to tell you," spoke Dan."Absolutely nothing. Talk about a fuzzy, musty, old second-hand chairmissing! Why, do you fellows know that Ed Kerr is going to leave thefootball team?"
"Leave the eleven?" gasped Phil.
"What for?" cried Tom.
"Is that a joke?" inquired Sid.
"I only wish it were," declared Dan, gloomily. "It's only too true. Edjust got a telegram stating that his father is very ill, and has beenordered abroad to the German baths. Ed has to go with him. I was withhim when he got the message, and he told me about it. Then he wentto see Dr. Churchill, to arrange about leaving at once. That's therottenest piece of luck Randall ever stacked up against. It's going toplay hob with the team, just as we were getting in shape to do BoxerHall and Fairview Institute. Talk about a missing chair! Why, it simplyisn't in it!"
Once more a gloomy silence, at which the fussy little alarm clock seemedto rejoice exceedingly, for it had the stage to itself, and ticked onrelentlessly.
The Winning Touchdown: A Story of College Football Page 1
