CHAPTER XVI.
WARWICK INVADES QUEEN'S.
It was the morning of the closing football game of the Queen's Schoolschedule, Saturday, November 12, and recitations were hurried theleast little bit. Even the teachers felt the excitement of the day.This was shown by the generous disposition to overlook poor lessonsfor at least one morning of the school year, and some of them evencut the hours short.
David, who had interviewed the Doctor and taken his place with hisclass the first of the week, felt the thrill of enthusiasm, and wasburning for the slow hours to drag along till 2 o'clock when thegreat contest was to be called. Football was literally in the air,for everywhere in the school yard, where there was a chance for itbetween the recitations, groups of boys were gathered and footballsflew high from vigorous toes, and there was the resounding thwack asthe ball dropped in some fellow's arms thirty yards away from thekicker.
It was an ideal day for the game--just a little nip of frost inthe air, the merest suggestion of the coming winter, but this wastempered by a bright, warm sun. It was not so warm that the playerswould be exhausted by the heat, nor was it so cold that spectatorswere put to the inconvenience and discomfort of heavy wraps.
About noon the invading hosts of Warwick began to reach the Queen'sSchool, and spread themselves about the grounds, flaunting thered and black colors of Warwick. Here and there groups of boysfrom the two schools gathered together, and there was some littlefraternizing, but as a general thing the black and red and the blueand gold did not mix well. The rivalry between the two schools ineverything was intense, and the members of each thought the otherschool just a little inferior in most things.
This feeling sometimes resulted in blows being struck and blood shedfrom bruised noses when encounters took place between representativesof the two away from school grounds. But to-day was the day of theyear, and while rivalry was strong, the feeling of antagonism washeld in check, for wasn't Queen's the host to-day, and Warwick theguest? No blood should be shed this day except on the fair field ofbattle--the gridiron.
"What's the matter, Jimmy?" said Frank to that individual, whom hechanced to meet hurrying along the path in front of Warren Hall."Have you seen that ghost again?"
"No, but I'm pretty nervous."
"Been losing sleep over the apparition?"
"Oh, shucks, no. The old ghost doesn't bother me, but I just metHorton and he told me that he may put me in before the game is over.I'm scared to death."
"And what's to worry you about that? I thought that's what you wantedmost of anything on this green, grassy earth."
"Well, I do, but what would happen if I didn't make good?"
"Oh, don't worry about that, you'll be Johnny on the spot, I'mwilling to bet. And if you get in, you'll get your 'Q.' Just think ofit--your first year!"
"I'm not thinking of the 'Q' so much as whether I can do what I'vegot to do. I feel just like I did that day when you and I swam atthe water carnival at Turner's Point last summer--shaky all over."
Frank grinned as he recalled it.
"I remember that well enough. Before the race came off I was surethat the moment I hit the water I'd go down, and drown, but as soonas I hit the water I thought no more about it. And you will be likethat. I tell you it's a big honor to be able to get on the team thefirst year. Not many Freshmen get the chance. I'm proud to know you,Mr. James Turner."
"Quit your jollying, Frank, and tell me if you've seen the ghostsince. You never saw such a scared kid as Lewis was that night, andyou couldn't get him down on the playgrounds after eight o'clock ifyou were to pay him real money."
"Yes," said Frank, "David and I saw it night before last in exactlythe same place. It seemed to come from nowhere and disappeared behindthe football stand. Seems as if it went into the water. Isn't itqueer?"
"It is mighty queer, indeed. What did Gleason say about it?"
"Oh, he wasn't in at the time. He'd gone over to the library earlyin the evening, and David and I were alone. When he came in andwe told him about it, he said it must surely be the ghost of thedrowned boy. He had inquired of old Peter Flipp, the shoemaker up onthe hill, and Peter told him that the meadows were what he called'hanted'."
"Did you see it clearly this time?"
"No, not so clearly as the first time; the moon, you know, is on thewane now, and the grounds were darker, but still light enough to showpretty plainly. It was the same figure, and seemed to move prettyswiftly, faster than a walk, I should say, and slower than a run,and, as before, it was above the ground."
"Well, it beats me," said Jimmy. "I've never heard of anything likeit. I must be getting along. Here comes Gleason now. Good-bye, oldspeed. I'll see you later," and Jimmy turned away, as Gleason came up.
"Telling him what the score is going to be this afternoon, oldWeb-foot?" inquired Gleason.
"No, Codfish, I was telling him about the second visitation of thatthing down on the grounds by the river. When this football season isover, I'm going to lay for that old ghost or whatever it is."
"Oh, I wouldn't do that," said Gleason, "you don't know what mighthappen. I've heard of people who tried a hand with ghosts and theirhair turned white in a single night from sheer fright. I wouldn'tlike to see my trusty wife in such a condition as that."
"Just the same I'd like to take a closer look at that thing, and Idon't believe I'd be afraid; but at present there is something elseto be done, and that's to get something to eat and get down to thegrounds in time for a good seat."
"Looks like a big crowd to-day. Guess these Warwickers have all lefttheir happy homes to see the slaughter, and I'm afraid they're notgoing to be disappointed," said Gleason.
"Oh, don't lose heart, you can't tell. There may be a Freshman inthe game before it's through, and that will help a lot." Frank threwthis last word over his shoulder to Gleason as he hurried to thedining-room. Coming from the hall, after a hastily snatched bite, heovertook the Wee One, and together they journeyed to the gymnasium,where both teams were to dress for the fray, Warwick having beengiven the big locker room on the second floor, while Queen'sretained the lower floor.
As they approached the gymnasium a big coach drove down the riverroad in a cloud of dust. It was positively covered with boys. It borethe football eleven of Warwick and its immediate crowd of heelers.Wherever a boy could stick, he had stuck himself, and every one swungthe colors of the school.
"Gee whiz, look at those mastodons," cried Wee Willie as the Warwickplayers began to uncoil themselves from various parts of the coach."They'll eat us alive. I know they must be cannibals. Poor Queen's,poor Queen's."
"They certainly are whales," said Frank, "but they look a bit logy tome. A good fast team ought to keep them on the jump."
"Yes, but where do you see that good, fast team? It doesn't livehereabouts, does it?"
"Oh, don't get discouraged so early in the game. Wait at least tillthey've played a few minutes."
By this time the coach had unloaded, and the heelers of the eleven,reinforced by fifty or more boys of those who had come down earlierin the day, got together and gave the snappy school yell:
"War I wickety-kick, War I wickety-kick, Rah, rah, rah, WARWICK."
"They yell as if it were all over, don't they?" observed David, whohad just come up.
"There does seem to be something of jubilance in it, that's a fact,"said the Wee One. "And the eleven is certainly big enough to givethe York Freshmen a rub if weight amounts to anything. Come on, we'dbetter get to our places, the stand is filling up."
Every one around the country-side within a radius of ten miles waspresent. Country lads and lassies making a holiday of it; fond papasand mammas to see Charlie or Freddie or Tommy take his part in thegame. And mamma was very shivery about what might happen to the youngman in the conflict so soon to come. And then there were the youngbeaux of both Warwick and Queen's who had blossomed out into theirvery best, each with a pretty little maid, perhaps from as far awayas Milton, at his side, who simply revelled in the blue an
d gold orthe red and black. Some of the girls even carried the color schemeinto their hats and clothing. And such a hum of talk and such aclatter, as the crowds climbed the wooden bleachers looking for thebest vantage points, and such a world of questions for the youngbeaux to answer the pretty little maidens.
"Oh, dear," says one fair questioner, "what are those white H's ateach end of the field for?"
"White what?" says the escort.
"Those big wooden things like an H--two straight pieces, and anotheracross the middle; it looks like an H. What does it stand for?"
"Stand for, stand for, why it stands to get kicked at. It's the goalpost, Minnie."
"O, stupid, I should have known. And those little white lines. Isuppose they're out if they run across them."
"Of course they are," says the escort, busy watching the cornerof the field where the teams make their appearance, and notcomprehending what she says.
But Frank, the Wee One, David and Gleason have no attachments of anykind. Frank had written an urgent letter to his father and mother tocome up, but Mrs. Armstrong was not very well, and could not make thetrip, and Mr. Armstrong was too busy at the office. "Will come upwhen you are on the team," was the answer. And the quartet were allvery well satisfied to see the game this way.
Suddenly there was a great waving of red and black flags as theWarwick eleven came lumbering onto the field with Captain Channing attheir head. A burst of cheering rolled up. The snappy Warwick yellfloated out over the field and then a rollicking song.
In the middle of the song up rose the whole Queen's side of the standand let out a roar, for the Queen's team was seen coming 'way downby the far end. Their quick movements were in sharp contrast to theheavier Warwicks. And as the school saw their active prancing, afeeling came from somewhere that after all the hard knocks they mightwin to-day. The cheer leaders were busy pumping melody out of thebunch on the stands:
"What are you doing, whispering? Get into it and let's hear you. It'sas silent out here as the town of Milton on a summer afternoon." Thisbrought a laugh, for Milton was not noted for its activity at anytime of the year. And they got into the song which the cheer leadercalled for.
Both teams were, meanwhile, going through a brief practice in signaldrill.
"My, how Channing boots that ball--see it soar!" cried Frank, andsoar it did. Channing was a remarkable punter for a schoolboy, andevery kick he sent off was labelled danger for the catching backs.
"Jimmy is not in the line-up," observed the Wee One to Frank.
"No, didn't expect he would be at first, but I think he'll get in,for I don't believe Hillard will last long. He was never very good asa defensive player anyway."
"Horton wants to put him in anyway at the first of the game so as toget the best of his speed. Good plan, too."
"Think it is a mistake," ventured the Codfish, "because these fellowsfrom up the river are going to slam-bang that line of ours, andthey'll need all the defence they can get, and on defense Turner isabout twice as good as Hillard. If I were coaching I'd put my bestbacks in and try to stop these fellows' fire, and then when I hadthem stopped I'd put in my fast fellows and run around them."
"There's wisdom in what you say, Solomon, but as you're not thecoach, you can't give us a demonstration, and Mr. Horton will."
By this time the teams had finished their signal drill, and gatheredeach in a little knot while the captains went out to midfield to tossthe coin for position on the field.
"There she goes," said the Wee One. "Bet you Queen's gets it."
"You lose," said Gleason, "Warwick got it and Channing's taking thewind at his back. Oh, my, oh, my! That's bad, right off the bat."
The Warwick captain had elected to take the wind, and the breezenow blowing would be a considerable help to him. The sun affectedneither, as the football field lay nearly north and south.
"There we go," cried Frank, as a piercing whistle announced thebeginning of hostilities.
Frank Armstrong at Queens Page 16
