CHAPTER XV
WAYNE RAISES A FLAG
March came in like a lion that spring and roared and raved over theriver and about the dormitories and made life out of doors a hardshipthat few cared to brave. Ere it was a week old it had piled the icein walls along the river banks, swept the green bare of snow, andsnapped the tall flag post in front of Academy Building. Wayne and Donhugged the fireplace when not at recitations or in the gymnasium, andgot a lot of studying done. Wayne’s ability to learn his lessons hadincreased of late, and he was ready to give credit to Professor Beckand the steady training he was undergoing. Physical exercise clears thebrain, and Wayne discovered an improvement before he had been at workwith the track squad for two weeks. He even began to speak tentativelyof trying for a scholarship, and Don grinned and cunningly encouragedhim by saying:
“Oh, well, you can try, of course. But I don’t believe you can make it.You won’t stick to it long enough; you’ll get tired of studying after awhile.”
An assertion which Wayne indignantly denied.
“Just you wait and see! You needn’t think you and Paddy are the onlyfellows in school who can get scholarships!”
Gymnasium work was much the same as it had been since Don and Waynewent into training; there was always the chest weights and thedumb-bells, and Wayne knew every splinter and crack in the runningtrack by this time. But he had dropped two or three pounds of weight,and felt better for it; he had made the acquaintance of a number of thecandidates who were the sort of chaps that it was well to know; he hadsecured a new interest in school life, and he was able to talk more orless intelligently with Don upon subjects that occupied full half ofthat youth’s thought--namely, the approaching spring handicap meet andthe more distant interscholastic contest. Don had thrown himself heartand soul into the task of turning out a winning track team, and, beinga youth who was willing and eager to back his mental efforts with thehardest sort of physical labor, he was in a fair way to succeed. Fortwo weeks past he had been in correspondence with a number of Hilltongraduates, and now he was able to announce that he had secured promisesof active assistance from almost all of them, and that the track menwould not want for coaching.
“Barret is coming in April,” he told Wayne one day. “He was a starhurdler at college a couple of years ago. Then Kenyon, who holds theintercollegiate two-hundred-and-twenty-yard record, and Burns, whowon the one hundred yards last spring, are both coming to coach thesprinters. Remsen, the old football coach, is coming, and I think he’llbe willing to teach Dave and Hardy and Kendall a few tricks with theweights. We need a middle-distance man and some one who knows somethingabout pole vaulting. Johnstone may come; he’s half promised. As for youand Chase and Treadway and the rest, why, Beck will look after you;he’s a dandy coach for the distances; he used to be a fine runner inthe mile, and held the intercollegiate championship for a couple ofseasons. We’ll be well fixed for coaches this spring.”
“Seems to me with all those men to help,” said Wayne, “we can’t helpwinning.”
“It doesn’t follow. You see, St. Eustace and the other schools willhave just as many good grads coaching them. St. Eustace generally has awhole army of them. That’s one bully thing about that school: you neverhear of it begging for aid of any sort from the alumni; the alumni’salways on hand and waiting to help. Of course, I don’t mean thatHillton graduates aren’t like that, only--well, sometimes they seem abit backward in coming forward.”
“Nonsense!” exclaimed Wayne; “perhaps if the truth was known we’d findthat St. Eustace captains have just as much trouble getting the oldfellows to go there and coach as you have had. I know from what Davetold me once that Hillton fellows always help the school all they knowhow.”
“Good for you!” answered Don, with a grin. “’Rah for Hillton!”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing much; only that you are coming on. I think I can detectsymptoms of patriotism, Wayne.”
“Pshaw! Of course a fellow always stands up for his school; he’d bemighty poor trash if he didn’t.”
“Glad to hear you say so,” responded Don dryly. “You didn’t seem to beimpressed with that fact when you first arrived in our midst with yourtwo trunks and an air of supreme importance.”
“Oh, shut up!” growled Wayne. Don smiled silently, as though at anamusing thought, and Wayne observed him with rather an embarrassedexpression. Finally he broke the silence.
“Stop grinning there like a chloroformed catfish, Don! I suppose I wasrather a silly ass when I got here. But, you see, I hadn’t been awayfrom our little old village very much and didn’t know a great dealabout boarding schools.” He paused and looked reminiscently into theflames. “You and Dave and Paddy were awfully nice to me. I must haveseemed a powerful sulky brute!”
“Well, you were a bit exasperating at first with your high and mightyviews of the school and the fellows and the way in which we conductedthings here at Hillton. But we all kind of took to you the first day;perhaps that was the reason. I’ll never forget the afternoon you walkedin here, plumped your valise down, and asked why the nigger hadn’tlighted the fire!”
“But it was chilly,” objected Wayne.
“And when I explained very respectfully that you would be obliged toshare the study with me, you looked me over very condescendingly andremarked: ‘Well, I reckon it’s the rule; but seems to me they mighthave told me that.’”
“Did I say that?” asked Wayne meekly.
“Every word. And I don’t mind acknowledging now that I was sorelytempted to knock your head against the wall.”
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t. Because if you had we wouldn’t have beenchums. But I wonder why you didn’t kick and get another roommate?”
“That’s the funny part of it, Wayne. I suppose I must have liked youeven then. By the way, do you remember how mad you got one day whenPaddy told you that you spoke with a ‘refined negro dialect’?”
“Yes,” answered Wayne, “I remember. Well, I’m glad I’ve learned alittle sense since then. I felt powerful mean and homesick the firstfew weeks I was here; and you and Paddy and Dave were awfully decentto me. It isn’t the thing that a fellow talks about, of course, and Ihate to have any one get ‘sloppy,’ but, honest, Don, I won’t forget it,you know.”
“Oh, quit your joking!” cried Don, jumping up. “Let’s go over toHampton and bother Dave.”
So they struggled into their sweaters and went. The sound of hammeringand shouting aroused their curiosity, and they made a detour to thefront of Academy Building to learn the meaning of the noise. A groupof workmen were putting the finishing touches on the new flagstaff,and already it reared its length aloft on the edge of the bluff, theglistening gold ball at the top of the slender mast shining brightagainst the gray sky.
“Phew!” exclaimed Don. “She’s a tall old stick, isn’t she? Must be agood fifty feet, eh?”
“Worse than that,” answered Wayne. “I should say about sixty.”
“Maybe. I wonder if they’ll get a new flag. The old one’s pretty wellworn out.”
“Say, Don,” Wayne suggested as they hurried on toward Hampton Housewith their ears tingling, “wouldn’t it be a grand joke to run a flag upthere to-night ourselves? Think how surprised ‘Wheels’ would be in themorning!”
“By Jove! Great scheme. Come on; let’s tell Paddy and Dave.”
Those young gentlemen hailed the idea with glee, and called Wayne apublic benefactor and many other flattering things. The fact was, lifehad been deadly dull of late, and the continued indoor existence wasbeginning to affect their spirits. The idea of having a flag raising oftheir own appeared illumined with brilliance, and the quartet at oncebegan arrangements.
“But we haven’t a flag,” objected Dave.
“Let’s make one. It ought to be something more startling than the Starsand Stripes,” said Paddy. “I wish we had a class flag. I tell you,fellows, let’s run up a skull and crossbones!”
“Just the thing!
” giggled Wayne. “Where’ll we get it?”
“Have to make it. Dave’s got some black paint stuff, and we’ll use asheet or something.”
“Pillowcase would be better,” said Don. “Rip it open, you know.”
“Splendid! We’ll use Dave’s.”
“Use your own,” responded Dave. “If I supply the paint you’d ought tosupply the pillowcase.”
“Well, all right, stingy. Get your paint stuff.”
Paddy’s pillow case was quickly produced and ripped at the seams,and the four boys squatted about it on the floor, while Don drew askull--at least, he declared it was that--and a pair of very stoutbones beneath it. Then Wayne, claiming the right by virtue of theorigination of the idea, filled in the design with some extremelysticky varnish, and the flag was complete.
“That’s not black at all; it’s sort of brownish,” Wayne objected.
“Well, bones aren’t black, anyway,” said Don. “Besides, it shows upfinely. Now how’ll we get it up there?”
Plans were discussed until supper time, and at length it was decidedto go and have a look at the pole and the halyards on the way to thedining hall. This was done. The workmen had departed, the new ropeswere flapping sharply against the pole, and the boys found everythingready for them. They didn’t linger there, for fear that they would beobserved and connected with the affair the next day, but went on tosupper, agreeing to meet in Hampton at nine o’clock.
At a few minutes past that hour four muffled and mysterious figuresscuttled across the yard, keeping in the shelter of the laboratoriesand the gymnasium, and gathered about the flag pole. Detection wasout of the question, for the night was as dark as the most desperatemission could demand. Above them the topmast creaked complainingly inthe wind and the halyards beat a tattoo against the wood. Very quicklythe new flag was attached, Paddy complaining _sotto voce_ because thevarnish stuck to his hands, and Wayne laid hold of the other rope.
“Hats off!” commanded Don in a husky whisper.
Four cloth caps left as many heads bare to the cold wind, Dave whistleda lugubrious march beneath his breath, and Wayne ran the flag upwardinto the darkness and the teeth of the March tempest.
“Hold on,” whispered Paddy. “Pull it down again!”
“What’s the matter?” asked the others.
“Why, don’t you see, they can get it down! Shall we allow our flag tobe lowered? Never! So let’s cut the rope that the pillowcase is on.Then they’ll have nothing to lower it with!”
The others studied the problem a moment in silence. Then, “Well thatsounds reasonable,” muttered Wayne. “Let’s try it anyway.” So the flagcame down, and Paddy cut the halyards a few inches beneath it. Then theskull and crossbones was again hoisted, this time with scant ceremony,the severed length of rope was stuffed under Paddy’s jacket, and thefour conspirators parted with muffled laughter. Above them in thewind-swept space the ominous standard flapped in the darkness.
For the Honor of the School: A Story of School Life and Interscholastic Sport Page 15
