CHAPTER II
BAD NEWS FROM HOME
Years ago, it was the custom, for a certain style of stories, to beginsomething like this:
"Bang! Bang! Seven redskins bit the dust!"
Then, after the sensational opening, came a calm period wherein theauthor was privileged to do some explaining. I shall, with yourpermission, adopt that method now, with certain modifications, and tellmy new readers something about Randall College, and the lads whom Ipropose to make my heroes. It is, perhaps, rather an inopportune time todo it, but I fear I will find none better, since Tom and his chums areso constantly on the alert, that it is hard to gain their attention fora moment, after they are once started.
And so, while the bob containing the girls, in whom our friends are somuch interested, is swinging toward the dangerous hollow, and when Tomand the others are preparing to execute a risky manoeuvre to save them,may I be granted just a moment? My former readers may skip this part ifthey choose.
It was in the initial volume of this "College Sports Series," that Iintroduced Tom Parsons and his chums. The first book was called "TheRival Pitchers;" and in it I told how Tom, a raw country lad, came toRandall College with a big ambition as regards baseball, and how he madegood in the box against long odds. In the second book, "A Quarter-back'sPluck," I told how Phil Clinton won the big championship game undertrying conditions, and in "Batting to Win," there were given theparticulars of how Randall triumphed over her rivals, and how a curiousmystery regarding Sid Henderson was solved.
"The Winning Touchdown," was another story of college football, and,incidentally the book tells how Tom and his chums saved the college fromdisaster in a peculiar way, and how Frank came to Randall and "madegood." Frank had roomed elsewhere but was now with Tom, Sid and Phil.
Randall College was situated on the outskirts of the town of Haddonfield,in the middle west. Near it ran Sunny River, a stream of considerableimportance, emptying into Tonoka Lake. This lake gave the name to theathletic league--the league made up of Randall, Boxer Hall, FairviewInstitute and some other places of learning in the vicinity. Randalloften met Boxer Hall and Fairview on the gridiron or diamond.
Dr. Albertus Churchill, dubbed "Moses," was head-master at Randall, Dr.Emerson Tines, called "Pitchfork," was the Latin instructor, and Mr.Andrew Zane was the proctor.
There were other instructors, officials, etc., whom you will meet as thestory goes on. As for the students, besides the four "inseparables" whomI have already named, I have already told you of some, though I mightmention Sam or "Snail" Looper, much given to night prowling, Peter or"Grasshopper" Backus, who aspired to be a great jumper, and "Bean"Perkins, who could always be depended on to "root" for his team in acontest.
These lads were all friends of our heroes. Truth to tell, the lads hadfew enemies. Fred Langridge and his crony Garvey Gerhart, had madetrouble for Tom and his friends, until the two bullies withdrew fromRandall, and went to Boxer Hall.
And now, having read (or skipped) this necessary explanation, you mayproceed with the story.
"He must be crazy!" called Tom to Sid, who, clanging the bell, wasseated not far from the brake-tender. "Clean crazy to try to coast thehollow on his first trip."
"He doesn't know any better," returned Sid, as he looked ahead at thebig bob which was nearing the dangerous turn.
"What's Frank up to?" demanded Phil. "He's steering for the hollow,too."
At this there was a scream of terror from some of the girls on the bobof our heroes.
"Don't do it! Don't try it!" begged the one next to Frank.
"Keep quiet, please," he requested in a tense voice. "I've got to savethem if possible."
"I'm going to jump off!" a girl cried.
"Don't you dare!" ordered the Big Californian, and there was that in hisvoice which made her obey.
From the big bob in front, which was now only a little way ahead of theRandall sled, came a chorus of shrill screams. There was a movement,plainly seen in the bright moonlight, as if some of the girls were goingto roll off.
"Sit still! Sit still!" yelled Frank. "Jam on your brakes there,Burton!" he added. "You'll never make that turn!"
"All right, I get you!" sang out the newcomer on the hill, andPhil gritted his teeth as he thought of his sister--and the othergirls--entrusted to a reckless youth like this.
There was a scraping sound, as one of the lads on Burton's bobpulled the cord that sent a chisel-like piece of steel down into thesnow-covered roadway. But the speed of the sled was not much checked bythis brake.
By this time the two big bobs were close together, and the dangerousturn was almost at hand. All the other coasters on the hill, save a fewthat were near the bottom, had stopped their sport to see the outcome ofthe perilous ride.
"Look out, Frank, you'll be into them!" yelled Tom, as he saw their bobcoming nearer and nearer to the foremost one. "Shall I jam on thebrakes?"
His hand was on the cord, and, in another moment he would have sent thescraping steel back of the rear runner, into the frozen surface.
"No! No!" yelled Frank. "Don't touch that brake, Tom! I want all thespeed I can get!"
"What are you going to do?" cried his chum.
"I'm going to head them away from the cut-off."
"You can't do it!"
"I'm going to!" retorted Frank grimly. "Easy on the brake, Tom."
"All right! She's off!"
The girls on both bobs were now quiet, but they were none the less ingreat fear. The very danger seemed to make them dumb, and they lookedahead with frightened eyes, waiting for they knew not what.
A moment later Frank's plan was plain to his chums. Knowing the hillas he did, familiar with every bump and hollow, he had decided, ifpossible, to draw up alongside the foremost bob, between it and thedangerous turn, which Burton did not seem able to avoid. Then Frankwould hold a straight course, if he could, and fairly force the othersled out of danger.
It was a risky plan, but none other would serve to prevent the big,new bob from shooting toward the smaller hill, with the certainty ofoverturning.
"Steer to the right--more to the right!" yelled Frank to Burton. "I'mcoming up on your left!"
"I--I can't!" was the answer. "My steering wheel is jammed!"
"You can never make it, Frank," called Phil. "There isn't room betweenthat bob and the turn to get in. You'll upset us!"
"No, I won't! Just sit still! I'm going to do it!"
There was a quiet determination in the voice of the Big Californian, acomparatively newcomer at Randall.
With a rushing whizz Frank steered his bob up alongside of the other.It was just this side of the dangerous turn, toward which Burton washeaded. He was unable to do anything toward guiding his sled, and thebrake, though jammed on full, only served partly to slacken the speed.But this slackening was enough to permit the faster bob from Randall tocreep up, and just in time.
Steering with the utmost skill, Frank sent his bob as close as he daredto the other. It was on his right, while on his left, dipping down withdizzying suddenness, was the turning slope that might lead to danger, oreven death.
Frank thrust out his foot, and planted it firmly on the foremost sled ofthe new bob. At the same time he twisted his steering wheel to theright, so as to gain all the leverage he could toward forcing Burton'sbob away from the turn.
For a moment matters hung in the balance. An inch or two to the leftwould send both bobs crashing down the dangerous slope. There was ashower of ice splinters in the moonlight, a chorus of frightened gaspsfrom the girls, and sharp breathing by the boys. Then the weight, andtrue steering qualities, of the Randall bob told. Slowly but surely sheforced the other away, and, a moment later, as the defective steeringgear on Burton's sled gave way, there was a mix-up, and both craftoverturned, while there came shrieks of dismay from all the girls.
FOR A MOMENT MATTERS HUNG IN THE BALANCE.]
But the upset had occurred in a soft bank of snow, and, aside from thediscomfort, no one was hurt.
"If it had happened ten feet back though--well, there'd been a differentstory to tell," mused Tom, as he and his companions helped the girls outof the conglomeration of sleds and drifts.
"What did you want to try anything like that for?" asked Phil of Burton,when there was some semblance of calmness.
"Well, a fellow dared me to coast into the hollow, and I said I would."
"You won't do it again--with _my_ sister aboard," growled Phil.
"No, indeed!" cried Madge Tyler. "If we'd known he was going to do thatwe wouldn't have ridden with him."
"Oh, no harm's done," spoke Burton with a laugh. "I can soon fix thatsteering gear, and we'll have some fun yet."
"No, thank you," replied Miss Harrison. "I think we have had enough forone night."
"Come on our bob," invited Tom eagerly. "It's early yet."
"Shall we?" asked Ruth, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes. "We're notreally hurt, you know, and--well----"
"Oh, yes, let's do it," begged Miss Newton, and so, leaving Burton tohis damaged bob, the girls went with Tom and his chums. They had severalglorious coasts, under the silver moon, which shone with undiminishedsplendor.
Hal Burton got his bob in shape again, and begged the girls to try aride, but they would not, and he was forced to content himself withothers.
"Maybe he'll be unpleasant toward you, going back to Fairview in thehorse sled," suggested Phil, to his sister.
"He didn't hire that," retorted Ruth. "We girls clubbed together and gotthat, and invited the boys. But I think we'd better be going; it'sgetting late."
There was one more last, jolly coast, and then the college girls andboys wended their way from the hill, calling good-nights to each other.
"When are you coming over, Phil?" asked his sister, as she and theothers climbed in the big horse-drawn sleigh.
"Do you mean our _crowd_?" asked her brother, laughingly.
"Yes--_everybody_!" added Miss Tyler.
"To-morrow," answered Tom promptly.
"Don't!" retorted Miss Harrison. "We have an exam. the next day. Make itFriday, and we'll have a little dance."
"Done!" shouted Sid.
"And he's the old misogynist who used to hate the ladies!" chaffed Tom,at his chum's ready acceptance. There was a laugh, and then the fourinseparables, in the midst of groups of their friends, trudged on towardRandall.
"There was some class to your steering, Frank, old man," complimentedTom, after some talk of the near-accident.
"That's right," agreed Phil. "I never thought he'd make it."
"I just _had_ to," was the response. "There'd have been a bad time, ifthat chump had gone down into the hollow."
"Of course," put in Sid. "I wonder how he came to get in with our girls,anyhow?"
"_Our_ girls!" cried Tom. "How many do you own, anyhow?"
"Oh, you know what I mean," said Sid. Then the students fell todiscussing the matter, speculating as to what sort of a chap Hal Burtonmight turn out to be.
"Well, we had a good time," remarked Tom, a little later, as the fourentered the room they shared in common. "Hello!" he cried, "the clockhas stopped."
He caught up a nickel-plated alarm timepiece, and began shaking itvigorously.
"What are you trying to do?" gasped Phil indignantly, as he snatched theclock from Tom. "Do you want to ruin it?"
"I was trying to make it go."
"Yes, and get the hair-spring caught up so she'll do two hours in thetime of one. Handle it gently, you vandal!" and he rocked the clockeasily to and fro, until a loud ticking indicated that it had startedagain.
"And now for boning," remarked Frank, as he sank into one of the twinarmchairs that adorned the room. One was a relic--an heirloom--and theother had come to the boys in a peculiar manner. Both were old and worn,but the personification of comfort--so much so that once you had gotteninto one you did not want to get out. Also it was hard work to ariseunassisted, because of the depth.
Tom took the other chair, and Sid and Phil shared the dilapidated sofabetween them. It creaked and groaned with their weight.
"I guess we'll have to be investing in a new one, soon," remarked Phil,as he tenderly felt of the sofa's 'bones'. "This won't last muchlonger."
"It will serve our time," spoke Sid. "Don't you dare suggest a new one.It would be sacrilege."
Tired, but happy and contented, and in a glorious glow from theircoasting, the boys began looking for their books, to do a last bit ofstudying before the signal for "lights out" should sound.
"Where's my Greek dictionary?" demanded Phil, searching among a litterof papers on the table. "I'm sure I left it here."
"The last I saw of it, you fired it at Dutch Housenlager the other daywhen he stuck his head in the door," remarked Tom.
"Oh, here it is," announced Phil, unearthing the volume from under a bigcatching glove. "Hello, Tom, here's a letter for you! Special delivery,too! Must have come when you were out, and Wallops, the messenger, leftit in here. Catch!"
He tossed the missive to Tom, who caught it, and ripped it open quickly.
"It's from home," he murmured, as he read it. Then a change came overhis face--a change that was instantly apparent to his chums.
"What's the matter?" asked Sid softly. "No bad news I hope, Tom."
"Yes--it is--very bad news," replied Tom softly.
For the Honor of Randall: A Story of College Athletics Page 2
