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FOR THE HONOR OF THE SCHOOL
The charging players.]
FOR THE HONOR OF THE SCHOOL
A Story of School Life and Interscholastic Sport
By RALPH HENRY BARBOUR Author of the Half-Back
_Illustrated by C. M. Relyea_
NEW YORK AND LONDON D. APPLETON & CO. 1912
Copyright, 1900, By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY.
Printed in the United States of America
TO THAT SCHOOL, WHEREVER IT MAY BE, WHOSE ATHLETICS ARE PUREST, THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE I.--THE CROSS-COUNTRY RACE 1 II.--WHAT A LAUGH DID 13 III.--IN 15 BRADLEY 24 IV.--THE REVOLT BEGINS 36 V.--PRINCIPAL AND PRINCIPLES 47 VI.--WAYNE PAYS A BILL 57 VII.--THE REVOLT ENDS 68 VIII.--THE FOOTBALL GAME 78 IX.--PAINFUL LESSONS 92 X.--GRAY GOES INTO BUSINESS 102 XI.--THE MYSTERIOUS SKATER 113 XII.--THE FACULTY RACE 121 XIII.--IN TRAINING 132 XIV.--BENSON MAKES A FIND 142 XV.--WAYNE RAISES A FLAG 151 XVI.--AND LOWERS IT 160 XVII.--ON THE CINDER TRACK 171 XVIII.--DON LOSES HIS TEMPER 180 XIX.--THE HOME RUN 189 XX.--BADLY BEATEN 199 XXI.--REMSEN’S PLEDGE 206 XXII.--DAVE IS MADE HAPPY 215 XXIII.--THE INTERSCHOLASTIC MEET 228 XXIV.--WON AT THE FINISH 238 XXV.--FINIS CORONAT OPUS 245
FOR THE HONOR OF THE SCHOOL
CHAPTER I
THE CROSS-COUNTRY RACE
“This way, Hillton!”
In response ten boys dressed in white shirts bearing the crimson H,white running pants, and spiked shoes disentangled themselves from thecrowd about the dressing-room door and assembled at the corner of thegrand stand. The youth who had uttered the command was the captain ofthe Hillton Academy Cross-country Team, and, with the runners clusteredclose about him, he gave his last instructions before the race in lowand earnest tones:
“Fellows, we must win this, you know. It’s going to be hard work; Houseand Beaming, of St. Eustace, are difficult men to beat, but I thinkwe can do it. Northrop and I will try to attend to them. The rest ofyou must try your best for the next places. I don’t believe there isa dangerous runner in Shrewsburg’s team; at all events, there aren’tfour. If they get less than four in ahead of us it won’t matter. Saveyourselves for the last three quarters of a mile, and don’t try toleap the ‘combination jump’ or the ‘Liverpool’; get over by the siderailings or run up the braces, as you’ve done in practice. It’s notstyle over the obstacles that’s going to win this race, but good hardrunning and lots of wind at the end. Keep your strength till you needit most. Don’t try to get ahead at the start; let the other fellow makethe pace. And right now, while I think of it, do try not to take offtoo soon at the water jump. Moore, you try to remember about that, willyou? And be sure before you start that your shoes are all right; it’smighty tough work running with a scraped heel, I can tell you. That’sall; only keep yourselves moving, fellows, until the line-up.”
In obedience to the warning, shoes were looked after again and thecotton wool stuffed carefully between them and the ankles to precludechafing, and the boys limbered up their legs and kept the bloodcirculating by stepping gingerly about the track on their toes--for allthe world like a band of Indians performing a war dance. Presently thedressing-room door was flung open and twenty other boys trotted outand followed the example of the Hillton team. Of the twenty, ten boreon their sleeveless shirts the blue monogram of St. Eustace and tenthe great green S of Shrewsburg High School. The distance judges hadalready taken themselves off to their posts of duty about the course,and the other officials were gathered in consultation at the startingline.
It was a bleak and cheerless Saturday afternoon. Overhead leaden cloudshung low, and the fluttering red flags that marked the course of thecoming contest alone lent color to the gray November landscape.
“Smells like snow, Wayne,” said the Hillton captain to a runner whostood--or rather danced--beside him. “I hope it won’t. The ground’sslippery enough now.”
“Rather wish it would, myself,” was the reply. “If I could get decentlystuck in a snow bank I’d like it a heap better than finishing last inthe race.”
“You won’t do that, you know. Lots of those Shrewsburg chaps are slowmen. I wish I was as certain that we’d win the race as I am that you’llfinish well.”
“Well, I’ll do my best, Don, but you mustn’t expect too much,” said theother boy anxiously. “I wouldn’t have gone into it if you hadn’t saidthat it didn’t much matter whether I came in first or last.”
“And it doesn’t; but I am certain, Wayne, that if you try you canfinish well up in the bunch. I think you’ve got the making of a goodrunner. Of course, three weeks of training--that is, the kind oftraining you’ve done”--the other lad grinned--“doesn’t amount to agreat deal when it comes to a four-mile race. After the first roundpick some St. Eustace fellow and stick to him; you’ll be surprised tofind how much better it goes if some one is making pace for you. ByJove! I do hope we can win to-day! This is your first term, Wayne, andof course you don’t know how the fellows feel about it; but I tell youwe’d rather down St. Eustace than--than eat!”
“They won last year, didn’t they?”
“St. Eustace? Yes, that chap Beaming over there, the little chapthat looks like a fox terrier, came in first and won the individualchampionship. Then House finished next about three yards behind, andI got in ten yards or so back of House. Then they got two more menin before another Hillton runner was in sight. Oh, it was a regularwalk-over, Wayne. Come on, they’re ready.”
And Donald Cunningham and Wayne Gordon hurried to the starting line.The former was a tall, lithe youth with not an ounce of superfluousflesh over the firm muscles. The pink hue of his bare arms and legstold of perfect physical condition and his thin face showed energyand resolution. His dark eyes--rather thoughtful eyes they were--hada habit of looking very straight at you as he spoke, and lent anexpression of serious dignity to the countenance.
His companion was in appearance and temperament a notable contrast.While scarcely an inch shorter than the captain of the Cross-countryTeam, Wayne Gordon, by reason of much unnecessary flesh, appeared lowerin stature, and lacked the fitness that comes of rigorous training.His muscles, despite some spasmodic practice for the day’s event, werestill soft. While Donald’s face showed energy, Wayne’s told of carelessgood humor and, especially about the lower part, of pertinacity whichmight under certain conditions develop into stubbornness. The eyeswere brown, frank, and honest, and at this moment were gazing beforehim in smiling tensity.
The starter had cocked his pistol and the referee was warning therunners as to the penalty for starting before the signal. Theonlookers,
fully two hundred of them in all, were assembled alongboth sides of the cinder track, and were adding their voices to thereferee’s, to the total overwhelming of the latter. The runners wereformed in two lines across the track, their shoe spikes griping theearth and their bodies poised forward.
“Has every one got his number?” asked the referee. “Remember, thejudges can’t register you if they don’t see your numbers.”
Several fluttering papers were repinned to the white shirts and thestarter raised his voice.
“Are you ready?” A moment’s silence ensued.
_Bang!_ The pistol cracked sharply and the runners swept in a buncharound the corner of the cinder track, gained the turf, and headedtoward where the red flags indicated the first obstacle.
Of these obstacles the course held six, as follows: A “Liverpool,” a“combination,” two hedge jumps, a bank jump, and a water jump. Thefirst consisted of a four-foot dry ditch in front of a five-foot railfence, followed, in turn, by a broad and high hedge. The “combination”consisted of a low bank surmounted by a two-foot hedge and followedby a four-foot dry ditch. The hedge jumps differed only in height,the first being three feet and the second three feet six inches. Thebank jump was four feet high. All these were comparatively easy ofsurmountal in comparison with the water jump. The hedges and bankmight be scrambled over, the “combination” could be fallen over--onedidn’t mind a few bruises--and the “Liverpool” could be climbed overor surmounted by means of the fences on either side or the stays whichheld up the rails. But the water jump defied every method save a long,clean jump. An eighteen-inch hedge was constructed on the bank of abrook that came under the railway track and crossed the golf course tothe lake. The brook was here eight feet broad and several feet deepin the middle, and constituted a very pretty obstacle in the way of ayouth tired out by a one- or two-mile run and the conquest of all thelesser obstacles. Only on the last round of the course was the waterjump omitted.
The distance to be run was four miles, or three times around thecourse. Starting at the grand stand on the campus the red flags guidedthe runners across the end of the golf links near Home Hole, then boreaway south along the bank of the Hudson River, crossing the brook overthe little rustic bridge, and taking the railroad track at a rightangle between Railroad Bunker and Academy Hole. With a short turn thecourse then swept back across the railway again to the water jump, Highand Track Bunkers, the campus, the grand stand, and the yellinggroups of spectators.
The plan of the course here reproduced was made by Donald Cunninghamfor the use of the Cross-country Team, and will, perhaps, aid thereader to a better understanding of what follows. Paddy cast aspersionson this effort, but Don was always very proud of it.
Plan of Cross-Country Course, Hillton, N. Y. Drawn by D. C.]
Each competing school entered a team of ten boys. Points wereapportioned according to the position of the runners at the finish:thus, the first one completing the three rounds of the course scoredone; the second, two; the third, three; and so on down to the last,only the leading four in each team being considered. Besides a prizefor the winning team, a silver cup, the first runner in was awardedthe individual trophy, a bronze medal. Cross-country running requiresspeed, strength, endurance, and pluck--especially pluck. The coursepresents an infinite variety of surface: slippery turf, loose gravel,mud, and sometimes sand in which the feet sink to the ankles. Unlikethe ordinary running surface, the cross-country course delights ininequality: a level width of turf is followed by a sharp rise; astretch of muddy road by a gully whose steep sides require the utmostexertion from the panting runner.
The course at Hillton was no exception; in fact, it was more thanusually severe. Besides the artificial obstacles--such as the hedges,the bank, and the water jump--the railroad track, fenced on eitherside, and three golf bunkers added their terrors to the race. To-daythe ground, which had been frozen hard the week before, was soft andtreacherous from the noonday thaw, and even spiked shoes found slow anddifficult going.
Six hundred yards from the start the field of runners had spread outinto three divisions. Fifty yards ahead House and Beaming, the two St.Eustace cracks, led Donald Cunningham by a stride, while close upontheir heels ran Moore, of Hillton, and two Shrewsburg boys. Back ofthem came a little group of a dozen whose shirts showed the crimsonH, the blue monogram, and the green S in about equal proportions.Farther to the rear the rest of the thirty struggled and straggledalong the course, already practically out of the race so far astheir effect on the final score was concerned. At the “Liverpool”the St. Eustace leaders took the ditch at a bound, gained the top ofthe fence, balanced themselves a second, and cleared the hedge. TheHillton captain and Moore used other tactics. Without lessening hisspeed each planted one spiked toe on a brace that helped to supportthe fence, gained the top bar in two strides, and cleared the hedge.The Shrewsburg runners tried neither of these styles, but climbed thefence, squirmed across the hedge, and dropped helter-skelter to theground, to find themselves farther behind the four leaders. As eachrunner surmounted the “Liverpool” the distance judges stationed thereregistered his number.
From the grand stand every foot of the far-stretching course wasplainly in sight, and now the first men looked like white specksas they took the turn, scrambled over the second hedge jump, andheaded toward home. Many of the watchers deserted the finish line andclustered about the water jump, loudly expressing the hope that someone would “take a bath.” They climbed on to the fences that led up tothe obstacle and waited impatiently for the runners to appear. Suddenlytwo white-clad figures were for a moment seen sharply against the grayof the hills as they took the railroad track in a bound; then they wereclimbing the fence and speeding toward the watchers. Simultaneouslythree others came into view, followed a moment later by a fourth.
“Cunningham’s closed up!” cried the Hillton supporters joyfully. “Househas dropped back!”
The two captains of the rival teams bore down on the jump, their facesflushed with exertion, but their legs moving gracefully as they putyard after yard behind them. Neither Beaming nor Cunningham sloweddown perceptibly at the hedge; each found the take-off at the samemoment and swept cleanly over the water side by side amid the plauditsof the spectators. House, Moore, and a Shrewsburg lad followed in thenext minute, gained their applause, and went on to the grand stand adozen yards behind the leaders. A second Shrewsburg runner, plainly indistress, lessened his pace at the water jump, took off too soon, andlanded knee-deep on the muddy margin of the brook. But he was out in amoment and gained a hearty cheer by the spirited spurt he made afterthe others.
Then the watchers had a moment of waiting ere the next group of runnersreached them. They came pouring over the railroad track and fence byones and twos, helter-skelter, with a St. Eustace man a bare yard tothe good and a Hillton runner, Northrop, trying hard to reach him.Over the hedge and water they went--the St. Eustace man, Northrop, aShrewsburg runner, another wearer of the blue monogram, and anotherShrewsburg boy--all clearing the difficult jump in good style savethe latter, who plumped squarely into the middle of the brook, and sodelighted the watching lads that many of them fell from the fencesin sheer joy. Wayne Gordon came next and received a shower of sprayin his face as he cleared the brook and sped onward. A St. Eustaceboy followed the example of the unfortunate Shrewsburg chap, and whenthe rest of the bunch had passed the two crawled out and took up therunning once more with disgusted looks and spiritless gait.
By this time the leaders had reached a point across the field andhalfway around the second lap. Donald Cunningham and Beaming, ofSt. Eustace, still fought for first place, and House had left hisShrewsburg rival behind and was close upon their heels, Moore, ofHillton, a few paces off. Shrewsburg seemed out of the race. Her firsttwo men were now but a yard ahead of the leaders in the second group,one still running easily and well, the other laboring at every stride.Northrop managed to come up to the third St. Eustace runner at the“combination jump,” and by sup
erior work over the obstacle drew severalyards ahead. Wayne Gordon moved up to the front rank of the followers,and the race momentarily gained in interest to the spectators.
Again the leaders made the turn at the far end of the course and headedback toward the water jump, overtaking several of the slower runnerswho were still struggling on their first round. Cunningham, Beaming,and House were practically side by side as they approached the jump,and the cheers from the onlookers increased in volume. Beaming spurtedand took the leap in exhibition style, and Cunningham and House tookoff almost ere he had set foot to earth. The latter landed well andsped on, but the former, to the consternation of the Hillton throng,while he cleared the water, stumbled on the bank and dropped to hisknees. In an instant he had gained his feet and taken up the raceagain, but his first stride proved to the dismayed supporters of thecrimson that he was out of the running. One--two--three steps he took;then he swerved to the side of the course, and would have fallen butfor the ready arms that were stretched toward him. He struggled fromthem.
“Let go, fellows,” he panted. “I’m all right; just--turned my ankle.”
The boys drew back and he started on, limping woefully. A dozen yardshe traversed ere he gave up and threw himself on the turf. A lad indisreputable football attire was the first to reach him.
“What’s the matter, Don? Are you hurt?” he cried anxiously.
There was no answer, and he leaned down and drew a bare arm from beforea face whereon the tears were trickling.
“Keep the fellows away, Paddy,” whispered Don huskily. “I’ll--be allright--in a minute. I--I--my ankle’s sprained, I guess; I can’t run--astep; and--and, oh, Paddy, we’ve lost the race!”
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