CHAPTER XXIV
"ON YOUR MARK!"
Once more the crowds were moving out to Erskine Field. It was after oneo'clock, and experienced persons knew that there were no reserved seatsand that "first come first served" was the rule. The midday sun shonewarmly and only enthusiasts looked forward with pleasure to sitting onthe unshaded stands for the next three hours. Robinson's athletes wentout William Street in two barges, their paraphernalia following them ina tumble-down express wagon drawn by a limping sorrel nag, whose bridlewas draped with brown and white.
The contents of the barges were viewed with polite interest, but thewagon awakened amusement on the part of sober citizens and ribald mirthon the part of undignified undergraduates. Nearing the field, the eyescaught sight above the tree-tops of the great purple banner, with itssnowy E, which fluttered lazily at the top of the tall staff. At halfafter one the stands were thickly sprinkled with spectators, and theflutter of programs--used in lieu of fans--was visible across thefield; with a little imagination one could have likened the ladies, intheir bright and many-colored gowns and hats, to flowers, and thoughtthe fluttering programs lighter petals stirred in a breeze.
On the track, runners and sprinters were jogging to and fro and on theedge of the field the officials were gathering, their purple and goldbadges glowing bravely in the sunlight. Two big tents had been erectedat the end of the oval nearest the gates, and about them white-garbedcontestants lay or sat on outspread dressing-gowns, while rubbers andtrainers came and went among them like anxious hens among their broods.
In front of the Erskine dressing-tent sat Allan. He had been up anddown the straightaway three times and was still breathing heavily asa result. He had no hope now of being allowed to enter his event, andeven if he were, he reflected, he would stand small show of winning,since it was evident that he was in poor shape. Physically he seemedfit enough, but he was aware all the time of a feeling of nervousnessand depression that was ill-calculated to help him in a grueling twomiles.
Word had been left at the telegraph office that if a message came forhim it was to be rushed out to the field as fast as possible, and tothis end a horse and buggy from Pike's stable was already standingin front of the door. Stearns was taking no chances, for now thatRindgely had been declared too ill to enter the contest, another fivepoints were almost certain to go to Robinson, and if it was possiblefor Allan to enter the two miles and make a fight for a place, he mustdo it. Stearns was worried and down-hearted.
Even the most optimistic calculators could not figure a victory forErskine with first places in both the long-distance events conceded toher rival. As a last resort, Stearns had secured the postponement ofthe two miles to the tag end of the afternoon. He had thrown himself onthe generosity of the Robinson captain and explained the predicament.
And the Robinson captain, who was Brooks, their crack hurdler, hadconsented, a piece of sportsmanship which met with the condemnation ofhis trainer and many of the team. But the expedient promised to worklittle good, for it was plain that if Allan's telegram to his aunthad reached her she would have replied not later than yesterday. ButStearns was in desperate straits and no chance was too slight for himto seize upon.
At a few minutes after two o'clock the pistol was heard from the farend of the straightaway, and Erskine took the first honors of the meet,Stearns securing first place and Leroy second in the 100 yards dash,and earning 8 points for the Purple.
To chronicle the afternoon's proceedings in detail would be a tiresomeas well as an unnecessary task. In the 120 yards hurdles, whichfollowed the first dash, and in the 220 yards hurdles, which came lateron the program, Robinson had things pretty much her own way, Brooks,her captain, taking first place handily in each. Robinson won 12 pointsin these events, and Erskine 6. Stearns again showed his mettle inthe 220 dash, and Robinson got second and third; 5 points for Erskineand 4 points for her adversary. In the quarter-mile the best the hometeam could do was to secure third place, and that by the narrowestmargin, though the time, 50-2/5 seconds, was absurdly slow. When the milewas called, the 220 yards hurdles had not been run and the score onProfessor Nast's sheet stood: Erskine, 18; Robinson, 18. So far thingswere happening in a way that brought joy to the professor's heart, butthe field events were still undecided and the long distances were yetto run.
The mile event worked the audience up to the highest stage ofexcitement, and for a long while, in fact until the three-quarters hadbeen passed, the race was most anybody's. But after that Coolbroth ofRobinson sprang into the lead, closely pursued by Harris of Erskine,and Patterson of Robinson. The finish was made in that order, Harrisand Patterson fighting for second honors all the way around the lastlap, and Harris finally winning his 3 points by a bare two yards. Thehammer throw was decided about this time, and Robinson was creditedwith first and third, Monroe winning second for Erskine. The scorenow was not so satisfactory to the supporters of the Purple, since itstood: Erskine, 24; Robinson, 30.
The Purple exceeded expectations in the broad jump, allowing her rivalbut 1 point. In the high jump, however, she didn't show up so well;Robinson took first and third places. After the 220 yards hurdles,which, as has been already told, were won by Brooks, Erskine securingbut 1 point, the score was heavily in the Brown's favor, 45 to 36. Bythis time the afternoon had worn well toward sunset. Only the shot-put,the 880 yards run, the pole-vault and the two miles remained. Of these,Robinson was conceded 8 points in the pole-vault, 5 in the shot-putand 1 in the 880. It was difficult to see how Erskine could pull outof the meet ahead. In fact, it was evident that she couldn't. EvenTommy, normally optimistic, had lost hope. While the competitors in thehurdles were trotting off to the tents he hurried across to where theshot-putters were at work. As he approached, six of the nine candidateswere donning their dressing-gowns, and he knew that the trials wereover and that the six were out of it. Then he pursed his lips andwhistled softly. Of the three competitors remaining for the finals, twowere Erskine men, Monroe and--yes, the other was Pete! The Robinsoncandidate was Tiernan, who had won first in the hammer throw. Petehailed Tommy and drew him aside.
"Have you got that paper safe?" he asked.
"Yes." Tommy reassured him by allowing a corner of it to peep forthfrom his inside pocket. Pete nodded and glanced toward the tent.
"For goodness' sake, don't lose it," he said. "And keep a watch for thetwo miles. We're not through here yet and I don't want the scheme toslip up."
"All right. And say, Pete!"
"Yep?"
"Do your best, old man, won't you?" begged Tommy. "They're 'way aheadof us, but if we get first and third out of this we may have a fightingchance."
"Well, we'll see," said Pete, untroubled. "I've got Monroe dead torights, anyway."
"Yes, but beat Tiernan, Pete; we've _got_ to win!"
"Well, just as you say, Tommy," answered Pete, smiling at the other'slook of tragedy. "For your sake, Tommy, I'll do my best."
"Burley!" called the field judge, and Pete drew his sweater off andstepped into the ring. There were three competitors remaining, and eachwas allowed three tries, the best of which was to count. Pete picked upthe shot, took up his position at the rear of the circle, placed theweight in his broad right hand, threw his left arm out to balance him,raised his left foot from the ground, and then, with a motion that wasneither hop nor glide, reached the front of the circle, brought hisright shoulder smartly round and sent the weight flying. The measurerstarted to lay the end of the tape where the shot had struck, butstopped at judge's announcement.
"Foul," said the latter. "You overstepped, Burley."
Pete nodded carelessly and donned his sweater again. Kernahan, who hadapproached during the try, beckoned to him, and they stepped aside.
"That won't do, Pete," said Billy. "Keep that elbow in to the body; youhad it spread way out that time. And mind the stop. Take all the timeyou want, you know; there's no hurry."
Pete grinned.
"_That's_ all right," he said. "Don't worry about me,
Billy. I'll getit away all right next time."
Monroe followed with a put of 43 feet 6 inches, and Tiernan betteredthis by half a foot. Again Pete peeled his sweater off and took up theshot. As he stood there, balancing himself, he looked, with a careless,good-natured smile on his face, like a giant who, for his amusement,had entered the sports of pigmies. He was taller than Tiernan andbigger everywhere than Monroe; the judge came barely to his shoulder.The muscles of his arms were like great ropes under the clear skin.Once more he crossed the ring, and once more the leaden ball was hurledforward. From the stands came a chorus of applause. Tommy's facelighted, and even Billy gave an appreciative nod. The Robinson trainer,standing across the circle, shot a quick glance at Pete as he steppedout and took his sweater from the turf.
"Forty-four feet seven inches," announced the judge, as he held thetape to the edge of the stop-board. Tommy clapped Pete on the shoulderand whispered his delight. Pete smiled good-humoredly.
"All out for the 880!" cried a voice across the oval. "Hurry up,half-milers!"
Monroe made his second try, and the tape said 44 feet 1 inch. He turnedaway in disgust. Pete smiled. Robinson's champion took plenty of timeat his next try, and made a splendid put. He had exceeded Pete's bestattempt and there was a breathless silence around the ring as the tapewas adjusted. Then,
"Forty-five feet two inches," said the judge.
The Robinson trainer, who had looked anxious a moment since, smileddemurely. Over on the starting line the half-milers were being placed.Along the length of the stands the spectators were leaving their seatshere and there. Pete stepped into the seven-foot circle for his lasttry. Tommy, a few feet away, watched him eagerly. With the shot inhis right hand, Pete looked across and dropped his left eyelid in aportentous wink.
Tommy's heart sank. If Pete would only stop his fooling for a minute,he thought, and really put his heart into it! And while the thoughtcame to him, Pete was hopping across the ring and poising himself foran instant at the front edge. Then his body swung around, his rightarm shot out like a steel spring, and the shot went arching over theground. Tommy's heart leaped into his throat and then thumped wildly.From the stands whose occupants were near enough to be able to followthe shot-putting came a great roar of applause. Tommy, with his eyesfixed intently on the tape, felt a hand seize his arm and pull himaround.
"Come along," said Pete, "and find Nast."
"Wait! Wait till we find out----"
"Find out nothing," said Pete. "Monroe can't touch that put!"
But even as Tommy hung back the judge looked up from the tape with asmile on his face.
"Forty-five feet eleven inches!" he said.
"_Oh, bully!_" cried Tommy. "But Tiernan----"
"Huh!" said Pete.
From across the field came the sharp report of the pistol sendingthe half-milers away, and as Pete and Tommy hurried to the tents thewhite-clad runners swept by in a bunch on the first of their two laps,Poor and Tolmann side by side in the lead, and Thatcher, Erskine's mainhope, running warily well toward the rear. Around the turns they wentand entered the back-stretch, hundreds of voices urging them on.
Allan, a depressed-looking figure in his dragging drab gown, met themas they crossed the track. There was no use asking him whether he hadreceived the longed-for message; one glance at his face was sufficient.Pete took him aside out of the throng.
"You're going to run, Allan," he said, in low tones, "so get warmed up.Now, don't ask any questions, for I can't answer 'em yet. Just do as Itell you. It's all right; you're going to run, and if you don't win outI'll--I'll lick you!"
The expression of hope which had at first leaped into Allan's face diedout again, but a look of curiosity remained.
"What--what do you mean?" he asked, wonderingly.
"Just what I say. You're going to run, and if you want to do anythingin the race get your muscles stretched. Let go of me; I'm in a hurry.Have you seen Nast?"
"I've found him," said Tommy, hurrying up. "He's gone over to thefinish. Here come the half-milers. Track, there!"
Once more the runners sped past, but now they were no longer bunchedtogether. In front, leading by half a dozen yards, ran Poor. Next cameThatcher, then a Robinson man, then Tolmann. Behind Tolmann the rest ofthe field pegged away, already out of the reckoning, barring accidents.
"All out for the two miles!" bawled the clerk.
Pete shot a glance at Tommy and the latter nodded. Together they turnedaway.
"Get a move on, Allan," cried Pete. "Don't stand there like a woodenIndian!" Allan, his face expressing wonder and returning hope, slippedquickly out of his dressing-gown.
"I guess you're joking, Pete," he said, "but----"
"Is Mr. Ware here?" piped a shrill voice, and the blue-coated messengerboy pushed his way through the throng about the tents. "Telegram forMr. Ware!"
With a cry Allan turned and seized the envelope from the boy's handsand tore it open. Under the gaze of dozens of curious eyes, he read thewords on the still damp sheet of yellow paper and turned with exultanteyes to Pete and Tommy, who had paused at the edge of the track.
"It's all right!" he cried. "Where's Nast?" And he sped off around thetrack. Tommy and Pete followed, and the latter, as he went, took afolded sheet of foolscap from his pocket and tore it into tiny pieces.
"Hurry up for the two miles!" bawled the clerk again.
When Allan reached the finish he was unable for a moment to reachProfessor Nast, for the half-milers were tearing down the home-stretchand the crowd was thick about the tape. Shouts of triumph, roars ofapplause, arose. Down the cinders, their straining forms throwing longwavering shadows before them, came Thatcher, Tolmann, and a Robinsonrunner, the first two almost side by side, the third man four or fiveyards behind. Then, in an instant more, the red string fluttered awayand Thatcher raced over the line, a winner by a bare yard over histeam-mate.
"Eight more points!" cried Tommy, gleefully. "Who knows how theshot-put came out?"
"We got first and third," answered Hal, turning. "Hello, Tommy, isthat you?" But Tommy was too busy casting up figures on his score to domore than nod.
"Was Pete first?" he asked in a moment.
"First! Gosh, he was first by almost a foot. Tiernan fouled on his lasttry, and----"
"How about Monroe?" asked Pete, worming his way forward.
"Hello, you old brick!" cried Hal, seizing his hand. "Why, Monroe didsomething like forty-four feet two, I think."
"_That's_ all right," said Pete.
By this time Allan had found Professor Nast, and the latter was readingthe message. It ran:
"Allan was at my house New York evening December twenty-sixth except between eight and eight-thirty o'clock when he went errand for me Thirty-ninth street. Could not have gone to Brooklyn and did not if he says so. MARY G. MERRILL."
The professor handed back the sheet of paper and put his hand onAllan's shoulder.
"Good," he said, with satisfaction. "Go in and win, Ware."
He pushed him toward where the long-distance men were assembling atthe start. Allan waited for no more, but darted down the track. As hereached the group, his name was called and he answered as he slippedinto the second line of runners. The next instant Stearns was pullinghim aside, his eyes wide with eagerness.
"Is it all right?" he whispered. "Did you get word?"
"Yes, a minute ago. I've seen Nast."
Stearns gave him a hug that left him almost breathless.
"Thank goodness!" he said, softly. "The meet's tied at 54 points. Thewhole thing depends on this, and we've got to have first place, Ware,we've _got_ to! Watch that man Burns over there; the tall chap with thetow hair; he's dangerous. And-- Say, Billy," turning to the trainer, whohad slipped across the track to them, "Ware's in it, after all. I wastelling him to----"
"Get the lead at the start, or as soon as you can, and just simply holdit, if you have to break a leg," said Billy, quietly. "How are youfeeling?"
"I--I don't know,
" answered Allan. "But--I guess I'm all right."
"Good. See that light-haired Robinson man over there at the pole? Well,play for him, Ware. And don't let him head you for a minute. All rightnow."
"All ready, there?" called the starter, as he dropped back and glancedat the pistol in his hand. There was an instant of silence. Then,
"_On your mark!_" he cried.
On Your Mark! A Story of College Life and Athletics Page 25
