CHAPTER V
THE FLOATING RACE-TRACK
Just what followed Bert never clearly remembered. A hurricane of cheers,a sea of spectators, Dick's face white as chalk, Reddy's like a flame offire. Then the jubilant trainer thrust a way through the howling mob andled him to his dressing room. An immense fatigue was on him. His heartwanted to come out of his body and his legs weighed a ton. But deep downin his consciousness was a measureless content. He had won. Again thedear old college had pinned its faith to him and again her colors hadbeen the first to cross the line.
A long cooling-out process followed, and then came the bath andrub-down. The strain had been enormous, but his vitality reactedquickly, and under Reddy's skillful ministrations he was soon himselfagain.
It was a jolly party that took the special train of the Blues back tocollege. More than their share of the events had fallen to them. Drake,Axtell, Hinchman, Martin and Bert were the center of a hilarious group,who kept demanding at short intervals "who was all right" and answeringthe questions themselves by shouting the names of their victoriousathletes. Not since that memorable day when Bert's fadeaway ball had wonthe pennant had their cup of satisfaction been so full to overflowing.
The lion's share of the applause naturally fell to Bert, not onlybecause the Marathon was more important than any other feature, but onaccount of the accident that had come so near to ruining his hopes andwhich he had so gallantly retrieved.
"Gee, Bert," said Dick, "I can't tell you how I felt when I saw you godown in that mix-up. Just when you were getting ready to make your run,too. I'd been studying your gait right along and I knew by the way youwere going that you had plenty in reserve. I was counting the racealready won. But when you went into that tangle of legs and arms, Ifigured that it was all up with us."
"I thought so myself," answered Bert, "that is, as soon as I could thinkanything. At first my head went round like a top, and for a second ortwo I didn't know where I was. Then I saw the heels of the fellows wayup in front and I made up my mind that they should see mine."
"And they did all right," chuckled Drake, "but it was a hundred to oneshot that they wouldn't. That run of yours was the pluckiest thing Iever saw, as well as the speediest. Like the 'Charge of the LightBrigade,' it sure was a forlorn hope."
"Well," said Bert, "it's like baseball. The game's never over until thelast man is out in the ninth inning, no matter how far the other fellowsmay be ahead. As it was, I only got there by the narrowest of squeaks.That winged-foot fellow put up a nervy fight. By the way, how is Brady?I hope he wasn't hurt by the tumble."
"Oh, he's all right," answered Axtell. "He scraped a big patch of skinoff his thigh, but he came staggering along and finished among the firstten. The showing he made was good enough to guarantee that he'll betaken along with the rest of us."
But just then Reddy the tyrant--a very good-natured tyrant atpresent--intervened, and although they protested that they were tooexcited to sleep, shooed them off to their berths.
"Tell that to the marines," he grinned. "Ye'll be asleep before yourhead fairly touches the pillow." And, as usual in things physical, Reddywas right.
The next few weeks were exceedingly busy ones. Examinations were comingon and Bert was up to his eyes in work. He had never let sport interferewith his studies and his standing in the class room had been as high ashis reputation on the track. Then there were the countless odds andends to be attended to that always accumulate at the end of the collegeyear. Every day, without fail, Reddy put him through his paces, havingin mind the forthcoming ocean voyage when regular training would bedifficult and limited.
Tom in the meantime had returned, still bearing some traces of histerrible ordeal in the mountains. The poison had been eliminated fromhis system, thanks to the doctor's skill and the careful oversight ofMr. Hollis, but he was not yet his former self. It had been decidedthat a sea trip was the one thing needed to bring about his entirerestoration to health. Dick had no such excuse, but he had put it up tohis parents with so much force that he simply _must_ see the Olympicsthat they had at last consented. By dint of much correspondence andinfluence exerted in the right quarters, they had been able to arrangefor passage on the same steamer that was to convey Bert and the rest ofthe Olympic team. So that the "Three Guardsmen," as they had been dubbedbecause they were always together, rejoiced at the prospect of a summerabroad under these rare conditions. And there were no happier youngfellows than they in America on that memorable day when they went overthe gang-plank of the steamer that was to carry them and their fortunes.
The _Northland_ had been specially chartered for the occasion. Thecontestants alone numbered nearly two hundred, and when to these wereadded trainers, rubbers, reporters, officials and favored friends, thisfigure was more than doubled. The Olympic Committee had done things inlavish style, and the funds contributed by lovers of sport all over thecountry had given them abundance of means. They had learned fromprevious experience the disadvantages of having the athletes go over onthe regular liners. The rich food of the ship's tables, the formalitythat had to be observed, the class distinctions of first, second andthird cabins and the difficulty of keeping in condition had wrecked orlessened the chances of more than one promising candidate.
Now, with the vessel absolutely under their own control, subject ofcourse to the captain and officers, all these troubles disappeared.There were no cabin distinctions and all were on the same level. Thefood, while of course of the very best quality and wholesome andabundant, was prepared with a special view to the needs of the athletes.There was no fixed schedule for the trip, and therefore no danger ofoverspeeding in order to reach port on time. Snobbishness and pretensewere altogether absent. All were enthusiasts on athletics, all keenlyinterested in the coming games, and the healthy freemasonry of sportwelded them into one great family. The boys had not been on board anhour before they felt perfectly at home. At every turn they met someone whom they knew more or less well from having already met themin competition. There was Brady and Thornton and Casey, the littleIrishman; and even the Indian, who had given Bert so much trouble tobeat him, so far unbent from his usual gravity as to grin a welcome tohis conqueror. The winged-foot man, Hallowell, shook hands cordiallywith a grip that bore no malice.
"The best man won that day," he smiled, "but I'm from Missouri andyou'll have to show me that you can do it again."
"Your turn next," laughed Bert. "That was simply my lucky day."
"I think next time," continued Hallowell, "in addition to thewinged-foot emblem, I'd better carry a rabbit's foot."
"Don't handicap me that way," said Bert, in mock alarm. "Why rob mealtogether of hope?"
"Well," concluded Hallowell, "as long as America wins, it doesn't mattermuch which one of us 'brings home the bacon.'"
"Right you are," rejoined Bert, heartily.
And this spirit prevailed everywhere. Rivalry was keen, but it was notbitter. There was no malice or meanness about it. Each could admire andapplaud the prowess of a rival. Naturally every one wanted to win, butabove the personal feeling rose the national. As long as America won,nothing else mattered very much. "Old Glory" floated from the stem andstern of the great steamer. It floated also in their hearts.
The _Northland_ had been put in the Committee's hands some weeksprevious to the time of sailing, and in that brief period they hadworked wonders. The ship had been transformed into an immense gymnasium.It was intended that regular practice should be indulged in every day ofthe trip when the weather permitted. Of course, as "all signs fail indry weather," so all exercise would have to be suspended in stormyweather. But at that time of the year storms were infrequent on theAtlantic, and it was probable that there would be little loss of time onthat account.
On the upper deck the Committee had built a cork track three hundredfeet long and wide enough for two men to run abreast. This was for theuse chiefly of the sprinters, although all found it valuable forlimbering up, and even the milers and long-distance men could use it toadvant
age. The deck itself was a fifth of a mile in circumference andhere the Marathon men took their practice. It was planned that thereshould be two sessions every day, the first at ten in the morning andthe second at three in the afternoon.
But running was not allowed to eclipse the other features. The rifle andrevolver men had a special gallery where they practised steadily. Thebicycle team were provided with machines lashed securely to thestanchions of the vessel. Here they pedaled away religiously, workinglike beavers yet never getting anywhere. But the practice itself wasalmost as good as though the miles were actually spinning away behindthem. The tennis men had a backstop ten feet high and an imaginary courtwhere they practiced what strokes they could. The fencing team had notbeen overlooked, and especially well-lighted quarters had been assignedto them.
For the swimmers there was a canvas tank, replenished daily, fifteenfeet long and five wide. A belt about the swimmer's waist was tied to arope above that held him in the center of the tank. So that while, likethe bicycle team, getting nowhere, they could yet go through the motionsand keep in perfect condition.
The throwers of the discus and the hammer were naturally at somedisadvantage. There was not enough open space anywhere in the ship forthem to try out their specialties. But they were not to be whollydenied. A section of the rail at the stern of the ship was removed, andfastening the discus or hammer to a rope, they cast it out over thewaves as far as they could and then drew it back, repeating the feat asoften as their trainers deemed best.
Then, in addition to these special arrangements, there were the generalones in which all took part, such as chinning the bar, skipping the ropeand passing the medicine ball. The entire schedule was a tribute to theingenuity and thoroughness of the Committee. In the period devoted topractice every chink of time was filled up and, as Dick put it, "noguilty minute was permitted to escape."
But work had no terrors for these husky youth. It was by dint of hardwork that they had reached their present position in the athletic world,and now, with the greatest possible prize in view, they were in no moodto let up. Some, in fact, had been worrying over the prospect of a breakin training during the voyage and they were delighted to find that theirfears were groundless.
It is safe to say that no one ship since the world began had carried somuch brawn and skill and speed as did the _Northland_. It carriedmore--the faith and hope and pride of the American people. And when, thenext day, with whistles blowing and flags flying and bands playing andcrowds cheering, she passed down the bay and stood out to sea, nonedoubted that the bronzed athletes she bore would return crowned with thelaurels of victory.
Bert Wilson, Marathon Winner Page 5
