Quarter-Back Bates

by Ralph Henry Barbour

  CHAPTER III

  ROOM-MATES

  The appearance of the study seemed to have been changed in his absence,and Dick's second glance showed that the change was in the shape ofseveral pictures on the wall, some books on one of the study tablesand a large packing case in the centre of the floor from which emergedthe corner of a brilliant blue cushion and the lower half of a boy.While Dick looked the rest of the youth emerged slowly until at last,somewhat flushed of face, he stood entirely revealed, clutchingtriumphantly a pair of battered running shoes. At that moment hiseyes fell on Dick and a surprised and very pleasant smile came to hisface. He tossed the shoes to the floor, dusted his hands by a simpleexpedient of rubbing them on his trousers, and nodded, stepping arounda corner of the big box.

  "Hello!" he said. "I suppose you're Bates. My name's Gard."

  He held out a hand and Dick took it as he answered: "Yes. Glad to meetyou. We're in here together, I take it."

  Gard nodded. "Yes. I got here this noon and helped myself to a desk,but I'm not particular which I have. Same about the beds. We can tossup, if you like."

  "It doesn't matter to me," Dick replied. "Suppose you take the firstchoice of a desk and I'll take the bed I want. That suit?"

  "Sure." Gard was looking at Dick with frank interest, leaning againstthe packing case, his arms, on which he had rolled up the sleeves of agood-looking shirt, folded. "Yes, that's fair enough. I took that deskbecause it happened to be nearest the box, and I'll keep it."

  Dick laid his hat down and seated himself on the window-seat.

  "It's smaller than I thought it would be," he said, looking about thestudy.

  "Oh, big enough, isn't it? It is one of the small ones, though. Someof the rooms on the front are corkers, Bates. I couldn't afford one ofthose, though, and this is a lot better than the room I had last yearin Goss."

  "Then you--you're not a new fellow?"

  Gard shook his head. "This is my second year. I'm in the Third Class.Are you?"

  "Yes. I think I could have passed for the Fourth, but I guess I'd hadto work mighty hard to keep up, and I want to play football, you see.So----"

  "Of course! There's no sense rushing through things too much, Bates. Ifyou'd gone into the Fourth you'd have been through just when you werebeginning to like the school. You will like it, I'm sure."

  "I expect to. I had a brother here five or six years ago, and he'salways cracked it up high."

  "That so?" Gard pulled the blue cushion from the box and tossed itacross the room. "Put that behind you. Guess I'll leave the rest ofthis truck until after supper." He seated himself in one of the easychairs and stretched a pair of rather long legs across the carpet."Let's get acquainted," he added, smiling.

  Dick liked that smile and answered it. But for a moment neitherfollowed the suggestion. Gard was looking critically at the pictures hehad hung, and Dick had a good chance to size him up. His room-mate wasa bit taller than Dick, with rather a loose-jointed way of moving. Hedidn't look exactly thin, but there certainly wasn't any excess fleshabout him. The running shoes suggested that he was a track athlete, andDick surmised that he was a good one. You couldn't call Gard handsome;perhaps he wasn't even good-looking in the general acceptance of theword; but Dick liked his face none the less. The forehead was high andthe lightish hair of a rather indeterminate shade of brown was brushedstraight back from it. That happened to be a style of wearing the hairthat Dick had always objected to, but he had to own that the fashionsuited Gard very well. It emphasised the lean length of the face andadded to the sharp, hawk-like appearance produced by a curved beak ofa nose, thin and pointed, and the narrow jaws. But if Gard remindedDick of a hawk, it was a gentle and kindly one, for the mouth wasgood-natured and the eyes, darkly grey, were soft and honest. Gard woregood clothes with no suggestion of extravagance. In age he was fullyseventeen, perhaps a year more. He moved his gaze from the wall and itmet Dick's. Involuntarily both boys smiled. Then each began to speak atonce, stopped simultaneously and laughed.

  "You say it," said Gard.

  "I was going to ask if you were a runner."

  "I'm a hurdler. I've tried the sprints, but I'm only as good as a dozenothers. Sometimes I 'double' in the broad-jump if we need the points.You look as if you might be fast on the track, Bates. By the way,what's the rest of your name?"

  "Richard C. The C's for Corliss."

  "That means Dick, doesn't it?"

  "Surely," laughed the other.

  "All right. Mine's Stanley; usually abbreviated to Stan. Have you everdone any running, Dick?"

  "Yes, I've done some sprinting. What's the hundred-yards record here?"

  "A fifth. It hasn't been bettered in years."

  "That's a fifth better than I can do."

  "Same here. I tried often enough, too, but I only did it once, and thatwas in practice, with a hard wind at my back. You play football, yousaid?"

  "Yes, do you?"

  Stanley shook his head. "Too strenuous for me. I like baseball prettywell, but it interferes with track work. Guess we're going to have acorking good eleven this year, and I hope you'll make it, Dick."

  "Thanks. I may. The fellows look a bit older and bigger than I expectedthey would, though."

  "Well, they say you have a good deal of fun on the Second Team, if youdon't make the first. And next year you'll probably be a lot heavier.I don't know many of the football crowd, or I'd take you around andintroduce you. I wonder if Blash would do you any good."

  "Who is he?"

  "Wallace Blashington's his full name. He plays tackle on the team;right, I think. He might be a good fellow for you to know if----"Stanley's voice trailed into silence.

  "If what?" prompted Dick.

  "Well, Blash is a queer customer. He's really a corking chap, butdoesn't take to many fellows. That's no insult to you, Dick. He--he'sjust funny that way. And he's the sort that won't do a thing if hethinks you're trying to pull his leg. Blash hated me--well, no, hedidn't hate me; he didn't take the trouble to do that; but he certainlyhad no use for me the first of last year. We get along all right now,though."

  "What happened? To make him change his mind, I mean."

  "That was sort of funny." Stanley smiled reminiscently. "We had somescrub skating races last winter on the river and Blash and I wereentered in the two-mile event. There were about twenty startersaltogether, but we had them shaken at the beginning of the last lapand Blash and I hung on to each other all the way up the river to thefinish. I just managed to nose him out at the line, and he was a bitpeeved, I guess. He didn't let on, but he was. So, a little whilelater, when we were watching the other events, he came over where Iwas and said: 'I believe I could beat you another time, Gard.' 'Well,perhaps you could,' I answered. 'Maybe you'll have a chance to findout.' I wasn't cross, but I thought it was a bit unnecessary, if yousee what I mean. 'Wouldn't care to try it now, I suppose?' he said.I told him I was tired out, but I'd race him if he liked as soon asthe programme was finished. 'Oh, never mind the rest of it,' he said.'We're both through. Say we skate down the river a ways and settle thequestion by ourselves.' So we did. We went about a mile down, beyondthe flag, and Blash said we'd skate a mile down and a mile back, andthat we'd turn at the old coal wharf. So we went off together, Blashtrying to make me set the pace. But I wouldn't and so we lagged alongabreast for half a mile or so. Then Blash laughed and spurted and Iwent after him and we had it nip and tuck all the way to the wharf.Coming back there was a wind blowing down on us and we had harder work.Blash was a half-dozen yards ahead and when we came to a turn in theriver he stayed along the bank, thinking he'd be more out of the wind.That seemed good sense and I hugged in close behind him. Then, firstthing I knew, the ice went crack, and down went Blash. I managed toswerve out and get by, but of course I had to go back and see if he wasall right.

  "He was about ten feet from shore, flapping around in a little squarishhole he'd made for himself. I asked him if he could break the ice andget ashore and he said he couldn't, that it was too thic
k to break withhis hands. So I laid down on the ice and crawled over to him, and hegot hold of my hands and I had him pretty nearly out when the crazyice broke again and we were both in there! In fact, I went down so farthat I came up under the ice and Blash had to pull me out to the hole.By that time we were both laughing so we could hardly keep our headsout. The water was just over our depth and the ice was too hard tobreak with our hands, and we didn't have anything else until I thoughtof using a skate. That meant getting boot and all off, and Blash sortof held me up while I tried to untie the laces and everything. We weregetting pretty stiff with the cold by then, Blash especially, but Ifinally managed to get one boot off and began hacking at the ice withthe skate blade. It was slow work until I had chopped off about a yard.Then we got our toes on the bottom and after that it was easy and wecrawled out. I wanted to beat it back to school as fast as I could, butBlash said that we'd catch cold and have pneumonia and die. He said thebest thing to do was light a fire. Of course, I thought he was joking,but he pulled out one of those patent water-proof match-safes and ifyou'll believe it the matches were perfectly dry!

  "But the awful thing was that there were only two matches there!However, we got a lot of wood together and some dry marsh grass andtwigs, and all this and that, and I kept the wind off, and we made thesecond match do the trick. In about two minutes we had a dandy hot firegoing, took off our outer things and hung them around and we sat therewith our backs to the mud bank and steamed. I don't believe any fireever felt as good as that one did, Dick! Well, that's all of it. Justbefore dark, we started back and we never told anyone about fallinginto the river for months afterwards. We never found out which is thebest two-mile skater, but we did a lot of chinning and got to know eachother, and since then Blash and I have been quite pally."

  "Quite an adventure," said Dick. "It's a wonder you didn't catch cold,though."

  Stanley laughed. "We did! For a week we were both sneezing andsnuffling horribly. Tell you what, Dick. If you haven't got anythingbetter to do, we might go over and see Blash after supper. I guess thistruck can wait until tomorrow. Only don't say anything about footballto him. If you do he will think I brought you over on purpose, so asto--well, you see what I mean."

  "Yes, I see. He might think I was swiping," Dick laughed. "But, lookhere, Stan, what could he do, anyway? A fellow has got to make his ownway, hasn't he?"

  "Why, yes, I suppose so. But it does help--somehow--to know the crowdif you're going in for football. At least, it does with making thetrack team. I don't mean that there's favouritism, but--oh, I supposeif you happen to know a fellow and know that he's all right, you justnaturally take a bit more interest in him. That's the way I figure itout, anyway."

  "Yes, but suppose this fellow Blash--er----"

  "Blashington. Quite a mouthful, isn't it?"

  "Suppose he asks me if I play football? Then what?"

  "Oh, just say you do and change the subject. By Jupiter, Dick, it's tenafter six! Let's beat it over and get some supper. Say, if you see thesteward tonight maybe you can get at my table, if you'd like to. Tellhim you've got friends there. It's Number 9. You can sit there tonight,anyway, for Eaton's not back yet, and you can have his place. Knowwhere the lavatory is? Got any towels? Here, take one of mine. Yourtrunk won't get up until morning, probably. They have so many of themthat they can't begin to handle them all today. If you need anythinglet me know and I'll dig it out of the box for you."

  "I've got everything I want in my bag, I think. Much obliged just thesame, Stan."

  Five minutes later the new friends closed the door of Number 14 andmade their way along The Front, as the brick walk leading from side toside of the campus was called. Stanley named the buildings for Dick asthey went along: the gymnasium, then Goss Hall, Parkinson, Williamsand Alumni. Their journey ended there, but there was still anotherdormitory nearby, Leonard, and, beyond that, the residence of thePrincipal. Dick nodded, but it was food he was thinking of just then.