On Your Mark! A Story of College Life and Athletics

by Ralph Henry Barbour

  CHAPTER XXII

  A NEWSPAPER PARAGRAPH

  During the short walk across the yard little was said. Stearns nowand then shot puzzled and anxious glances at Allan's face, but thelatter looked straight ahead of him, and Stearns learned nothing. Inthe office Professor Nast approached the subject at once. The Robinsonauthorities, he stated, had written, saying that Ware had won thirdprize in the mile event at an indoor meet of the St. Thomas Club,in Brooklyn, on the evening of December 26th, and in support of thecontention enclosed a clipping from a newspaper. The clipping washanded to Allan, and he read, opposite a big blue pencil mark:

  "Mile run--Won by E. C. Scheur, N. Y. C. C. A. (45 yds.); second, T.Webb, St. T. A. A. (45 yds.); third, A. Ware, E. A. A. (50 yds.).Time--4m. 47s."

  Allan returned the clipping calmly.

  "You understand," said the professor, gently, "that the mere factof your having entered this meeting without permission would not ofitself render you ineligible on Saturday. The trouble is that themeeting"--here he tapped the newspaper clipping with his pencil--"wasnot an amateur affair; the prizes were purses of money, and, being an'open' meeting, there were, as you may see, a number of professionalsparticipating. That--er--is the difficulty."

  "I know nothing about it," said Allan, quietly.

  Stearns sank back in his chair with a long sigh of relief. "I told youit was all nonsense!" he exclaimed. The professor himself looked wellpleased.

  "I did not run in that meeting," continued Allan. "I have been inBrooklyn but once, and that was fully six years ago."

  "I am very glad to hear it," said the professor, "very glad. Now,while I am not in duty bound to explain the matter to the Robinsonauthorities, yet it is better for various reasons to do so. And thereis one thing--" He paused and tapped the desk frowningly. "About thisclipping?" he asked. Allan shook his head.

  "I'm afraid I can't explain that. Perhaps there's another 'A. Ware' andperhaps 'E. A. A.' stands for something else besides Erskine AthleticAssociation."

  "Stands for lots of things, probably," said Stearns, a bit impatiently.

  "We might find that out," mused the professor. "Where were you, Ware,that evening, the--ah--yes, the twenty-sixth of December?"

  "I was in New York, visiting my aunt on Seventy-third Street. I was inthe house all the evening, except for about half an hour, when I wentout on an errand."

  "Well, you couldn't have crossed the river to Brooklyn, run a mile raceand returned home in half an hour," said the professor, lightly. "Now,will you get your aunt to write me a letter, stating those facts andassuring me that you were not and could not have been in Brooklyn? Itis not, you understand, that I doubt your word, Ware, but I have myduties in these affairs and I must perform them. Simply a letter, youunderstand, will suffice."

  "I will do my best," Allan replied; "but----"

  "Eh?" shouted Stearns.

  "But my aunt has left New York city and is traveling in the West,probably in California now. I shall have to find her address from mymother first, and by that time----"

  "Now, look here, sir," interrupted Stearns. "Surely Ware's word ofhonor is enough in a case of this sort? It's only a--a coincidence ofnames, sir."

  "For my own satisfaction Mr. Ware's word is sufficient," replied thechairman, with dignity, "but the rules require evidence, and I musthave it. I only ask Mr. Ware to supply me with a statement from someperson who knows of his whereabouts on the evening in question.Perhaps there is some other person who will do as well?" But Allanshook his head.

  "No, sir, I'm afraid not. My aunt lives alone except for the servants,and I saw no one I knew that evening. I will telegraph to my mother atonce, and perhaps I will be able to get a letter from my aunt beforeSaturday. But it's a pretty short time."

  "Produce your evidence any time before the two-mile race is called,"said the chairman, kindly, "and it will be all right. And, by the way,a telegram will answer as well as a letter, if your--er--aunt is in theWest. I am anxious to help you in every way possible, and I regret thatthe duties of my office require me to be or--er--seem exacting. Anotherthing, Ware; the Athletic Association will incur all the expenses oftelegraphing in this affair; and you need not--ah--spare money. Goodmorning."

  "Oh, it will be all right," said Stearns, cheerfully, as they hurriedtogether to the telegraph office. But Allan shook his head despondently.

  "No, I've felt ever since yesterday that something would happen to ballthings up. And now it's happened. And I don't believe I'll hear from myaunt in time. However, I wouldn't have got better than second place,anyway. But I did want to run," he ended, dolorously.

  "Nonsense! Cheer up! We'll make the wires hum. We've got pretty neartwo whole days, and we can telegraph around the world fifty times intwo days."

  The telegram asking for his aunt's address was duly despatched to hismother in New Haven, and after that there was nothing left to do savewait her reply. Allan parted from Stearns and went dejectedly back tohis room. There he found Pete engaged in a carouse with Two Spot. Theywouldn't let Pete practise with the shot to-day, or again before themeet, and he was feeling quite lost in consequence. Allan wanted someone to unfold his tale of woe to, and he was glad to find Pete awaitinghim. Pete, as the story was told, grew very indignant, and offered topunch Professor Nast's head. But Allan finally convinced him that thechairman of the Athletic Committee wasn't at all to blame.

  "It's a beastly way to have things end, after you've been practisinghard all spring," he said, as he arose impatiently from his chair andstrolled to the desk. A Latin book was lying on the blotter, witha slip of paper marking the page where Allan had been at work whenStearns appeared. Now he opened the book, crumpled the marker into aball and tossed it disgustedly onto the floor. Then he drew up a chairand plainly hinted that he desired to study. Pete, however, refused toheed the hint.

  "It's a mighty foolish business," he said, thoughtfully.

  Allan grunted.

  Two Spot had discovered the little ball of paper and was making believethat it was a mouse. She rolled it from under the couch with playfulpawings and frantic rushes, and finally tossing it in the air, so thatit fell at Pete's feet, she stopped, blinked at it and suddenly fellto washing her feet, as though too dignified to do aught else. Petestooped absent-mindedly and picked up the bit of paper, unfolding itslowly and smoothing it across one huge knee.

  "Seems to me," he said presently, "you chaps have forgotten one thing."

  "What's that?" Allan asked, ungraciously.

  "To wire the St. Thomas Club people and ask them if you ran in theirold meeting."

  "Well, that's so," said Allan, hopefully. "But, then, there wasprobably some one there named 'A. Ware,' and they'd just answer 'yes.'"

  "Ask 'em if Allan Ware, of Erskine, ran in the meeting, and, if hedidn't, who the dickens the 'A. Ware' was who did run. Tell you've gotto know in a hurry, and that it's blamed important."

  "By Jove!" exclaimed Allan, "that's a good idea. Funny we didn't thinkof it, wasn't it?"

  For answer Pete grunted, as though he didn't think it at all funny.

  "Hello, who's 'Horace L. Pearson, N. Y. A. C.'?" asked Pete, holding upthe scrap of paper rescued from Two Spot, and which now proved to betorn from the program of the Boston indoor meeting.

  "I don't know; why?" asked Allan.

  "I used to know a fellow of that name out in Colorado. He was sort ofstudying mining. What does 'N. Y. A. C.' mean?"

  "New York Athletic Club. It's probably the same fellow. I remember himnow. He was the chap that thought Rindgely was me."

  "Eh?" asked Pete. "How was that?"

  So Allan told him, and Pete grew very thoughtful as the short narrativeprogressed. When Allan had finished he asked:

  "I suppose these fellows that do stunts at the Boston meet go to prettynear all of them, don't they?"

  "Oh, I don't know; a good many, I guess. Why?"

  "Just wondering," answered Pete. "Come on and send that telegram. Ifyou address it to the president or
treasurer or something, it will do,won't it?"

  "I'll send it to the chairman of the Athletic Committee," said Allan,seizing his hat. "I'm glad you thought of it, Pete. You're some good inthe world, after all, aren't you?"

  "Sure. See you this evening. I want to see Tommy. Where do you supposeI'll find him?"

  "Oh, come on down to the telegraph office."

  "Can't; I want Tommy."

  "Well, try the Purple office; maybe he's there. Don't forget to comearound to-night. I may get an answer from my mother by that time."

  Pete was successful. To be sure, Tommy wasn't in the office of thePurple, but Pete hadn't supposed he would be; Tommy wasn't so easilycaught. But by tracing him from one place to another, Pete at last cameup with him in the library, where he was eagerly securing data for anarticle on rowing which he was preparing for a Boston Sunday paper.

  "You see," he explained, hurriedly, "I don't know very much aboutrowing, but it wouldn't do to say so, and so I come here and consultthese gentlemen." He indicated the half-dozen volumes by which he wassurrounded. "If I only wrote what I knew, you see, I'd never make anymoney."

  "Well, that's the first time I ever heard you acknowledge you didn'tknow it all, from throwing to tying," said Pete.

  "Oh, a fellow has to keep up a front," said Tommy, shrewdly, with agrin.

  Pete slipped into the next chair, and for the next quarter of an hourthey whispered fast and furiously. When Pete got up, he said:

  "This isn't for publication in your old paper, Tommy, you know. Anddon't say anything about it to any one, will you?"

  And Tommy pledged himself to secrecy, adding:

  "And I think you've got it, Pete. Are you going to see him to-night?"

  "As soon as I can find him in his room," Pete replied.

  "Then I'll come around to Allan's to-night and hear what's happened."

  "Maybe I won't tell Allan," answered Pete. "Anyhow, not unless I haveto. I'll see what the coyote has to say for himself."

  "Rindgely? Oh, he'll have plenty to say, all right. He'll talk himselfblue in the face if you let him."

  "Maybe I won't let him," answered Pete, grimly.