Lester Chadwick

“ The thought of Langridge brought another sort of musing to Tom. He saw a certain fair face, with pouting lips and bright, dancing eyes, a face framed in a fluffy mass of hair, and he fancied he could hear a little laugh, a mocking little laugh.
“Worse and worse,” growled Tom to himself. “You’re getting dopy. Better go take a long walk.”
He kicked impatiently at a stone in the path and wheeled around just as a voice exclaimed:
“Ah, Parsons, admiring the windows? The color effects are never so beautiful as early morning and the evening. The garish light of day seems to make them common. ”

“ CHAPTER IV THE HAZING
“What sort of hazing do they do?” asked Tom Parsons of Sid Henderson as the two youths followed their companions from the gymnasium.
“Oh, all sorts. It’s hard to tell. Mostly they come in your room and make a rough house, but not too rough, for the proctor doesn’t stand for it. They’ll tumble you about, tear down any ornaments you may have up, pour a pitcher of water in the bed, and make things unpleasant generally.” ”

“ Without a look at his chums Tom went out and to the office. He was afraid lest he might betray the secret he feared would be disclosed at any moment—the secret of the coil of wire.
“Mr. Parsons,” began Proctor Zane slowly when the door had closed behind Tom, “there has been a serious accident to-night.”
Tom bowed. He could not trust his voice.
“Two students were badly hurt and the results may be lasting. They are only just now out of danger.”
Once more Tom bowed. He could not speak. The beating of his heart was choking him. ”

“ Then out trotted the Boxer Hall lads, to be received with a cheer. There were pretty girls galore, each one waving the flag of her particular college. Tom moved about in the grandstand, trying to pretend to himself that he was not looking for any one, but all the same his heart gave a great thump when he heard some one call:
“Tom! Mr. Parsons!”
“Why, how do you do, Miss Tyler?” he exclaimed. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Oh, yes, I wouldn’t miss this for anything. I just love to see the old graduates. They are so interesting, just as if they were boys again.” ”

“ I’m not saying I did such brilliant work—none of us did—but you did rotten, Langridge, and you know it. It isn’t as if you couldn’t do better, for we all know you can. You’ve gone stale—or—or something!”
Tom had an idea what it was that had made the pitcher go “stale.” His brilliant hit and run had been followed by a reaction, the result of the stimulant he took. It is always thus.
Langridge stared at Kerr, his most particular chum, and then, as if not understanding it, went off by himself in a corner of the car. It was not a jolly party that rode back to Randall College. ”

“ Puzzling somewhat over the answer his chum had made to the question regarding Langridge and wondering what it was he might find out for himself, Tom followed Sid to the dining hall, where throngs of students were already gathered.
There was something in the air that told of mischief to come. The sophomores, who dined together, maintained a very grave and decorous air, utterly out of keeping with their usual mood. There was silence instead of talk and laughter at their table.
“They’re almost as dignified as the seniors,” remarked Phil Clinton to Tom as he took a seat next to him. ”

“ Then Tom was obliged to pass the next man to first, for he was an excellent hitter, while the one who followed him was not. But just then one of those “accidents” that are always cropping up in sport happened and the poor hitter made good, knocking a curious little twisting fly that the first baseman misjudged, and the run came in, again tieing the score. But no more Boxer players crossed home plate.
It was with a “do or die” expression on all the faces of the Randalls that they came to bat in the eleventh inning. ”

“ Of late Tom had heard certain rumors about Langridge, nothing serious as rumors about college students go, but enough to make Tom glad that, in the case of his sisters, Langridge could not get to know them. It was therefore with somewhat the same feeling that he might have warned his sisters that he spoke to Miss Tyler.
“You and Mr. Langridge are quite friendly,” he said in what he intended to be a light tone.
“Oh, yes,” came the frank answer. “I like him immensely. I like all college boys—when they’re nice,” she finished with a little laugh. ”

“ There was consternation among the freshmen and their supporters. With a divided team, part of it being so far away from the grounds that it was practically impossible to arrive on time, and on a wrong road at that, the situation was enough to discourage any nine.
“What made you let that fellow tell you where to go?” demanded Sid of the motorman.
“Well, he said he was your manager, and I believed him.”
“Manager!” cried Holly Cross. “Yes, we need a manager. We need a nurse and a governess, that’s what we need. To think that twenty of the brightest freshmen at Randall have been duped by one soph! ”

“ Sid came running up, all out of breath, buttoning his blouse as he advanced.
“What’s the matter, son?” asked the captain.
“That rotten Latin.”
“Be careful,” warned Kindlings. “Don’t slump too often or you may put us in a hole. You aren’t the only first baseman that ever lived, but you’re pretty good, and I don’t want to go to work training you in and have you fired off the team by the faculty for not keeping up your studies.”
“Oh, I’ll be careful,” promised Sid confidently, and then the game started. ”

“ Over in the grandstand Ford Fenton, who was cheer leader, called for the “Brace, brace, brace” song and it came in a mighty chorus.
“Only one run! only one!” pleaded hundreds of Randall lads. “One run to beat ’em, and then Tom Parsons will strike ’em out!”
Tom heard it and smiled. His arm had been given another rubbing, and though it pained him, he went to the bat first in the tenth inning with a confident step. Somewhere on the grandstand he knew a girl was watching him, and he tried to single her out. Could that be she standing up and waving a yellow and maroon flag at him? ”

“ I see his head!” suddenly cried Miss Tyler, and she pointed to a dark object barely visible in the shadows that were settling down over the river.
“I’ll get him!” cried Langridge thickly, but he could not seem to unbutton his coat.
“Look out!” cried a voice, and a tall, lithe figure, clad only in a rowing jersey and trunks, pattered in bare feet down the length of the float.
“It’s Fenmore!” exclaimed several, and the tall sophomore, who had been out in a single shell and who, arriving at the float, had understood what had happened, plunged in. ”

“ The fever of the game gets in my blood.”
“There is something in that,” admitted Phil. “Oh, it’s a great game. There’s none greater except football, and when I see the gridiron marked off and hear the ‘ping’ of somebody’s boot against [60] the pigskin my heart begins to thump and I catch my breath and want to take the ball to batter down a stone fence and make a touchdown.”
“Bravo!” cried Sid. “You’re as bad as Tom.”
“Quit talking and get to practice!” exclaimed a voice at the rear of the lads, and they turned to see Langridge. ”

“ When he went into recitation his mates on the team gathered in silent conclave on the diamond.
“If Sid slumps,” spoke Captain Woodhouse, “I don’t——”
“Don’t talk about it,” pleaded Bricktop Molloy.
“If he does, couldn’t we play Langridge on first?” suggested Phil Clinton. “He used to practice there.”
“Langridge is down and out,” declared Kerr. “I don’t know what’s come over him. He won’t speak to me any more. I guess he knows he’s got to do a lot of studying to pass, and he must be tutoring with some grind. He keeps himself mighty scarce. I don’t believe he’d play.” ”

“ Besides, Tom wanted advice. So he told his chum everything from the time of meeting with the sporty students until the sensational retreat of Langridge to his room.
“Now, what would you do?” asked Tom. “Keep still and take what’s coming or tell the proctor and use that as an excuse for coming in late? It really wasn’t my fault.”
Sid scratched his head. It was a new problem for him. He saw the point Tom made, that by informing on a fellow student, Tom would be held blameless, as indeed he had a right to be. Why should Tom suffer for another’s fault? That came plainly to Sid. ”

“ For Tom Parsons was a farmer lad, though, perhaps, not a typical one. His father was fairly well-to-do, and had a large acreage in the town of Northville. Tom was an only son, though there were two sisters, of whom he thought the world.
When Tom had finished his course at the village academy, and had expressed a wish to go to college, his father consented. He furnished part of the money, and the rest Tom supplied himself, for he was an independent sort of lad, and thought it his duty to take part of his savings to gain for himself a better education than was possible in his home town. ”

“ Tra la la! Merrily do we sing.”
He began prancing about and the others, with yells of joy, joined in. Sid would cover first base for them in the big game.
With a tooting of auto horns, the waving of many flags, shouts, cheers, yells of encouragement, laughter from many pretty girls, the waving of handkerchiefs, renditions of the college yell the ball nine and its supporters started the next day in a long cavalcade for Fairview.
Several automobiles had been provided for the use of the team, and in one of these rode Tom and Miss Tyler, whom he had called for at her home that morning. ”

“ Auto horns tooted blatantly, girls cried in their [289] clear, shrill voices, the lady contingent of Fairview rendering some weird yells. Then there were the hoarse voices of the boys, to which answered the cheers of Randall. The grandstand and bleachers were waving geometrical figures of brilliant hues. It was an inspiring sight. No wonder that the players felt nerved to do their best, for on the result of the game depended much. ”

“ The defeated team had gathered together. There was an air of sullenness about the members at losing the game, but this mood quickly passed under the entreaties of Pinky Davenport, who was a sportsman and “a good loser,” as he besought his men to “perk up and wallop ’em next time.” He called for three cheers for the victors, and they were followed by the Boxer Hall yell. ”

“ But Langridge is something of a sport. He has good clothes—better than most of us here—he has all he wants to spend, and he’s liberal with it. He has quite a following and lots of fellows like him. He doesn’t care what he does with his money, and that’s the whole thing in a nutshell. That’s why he’s manager and for no other reason. But, as I said, Woodhouse won’t stand for any of his dictation.”
“Maybe I’ll get a chance then,” mused Tom.
[47]
“I guess you will. I’d like to see another good pitcher on the nine. Maybe we’d win more games if we had a good one.” ”

“ Fenton looked up, and saw approaching the group of freshmen which included himself, two tall lads, who walked along with the swagger that betokened their second year at college. The hand of Fenton went to his hat, to take off the offending band, but he was too late. The sophomores had seen it. They turned quickly and strode over to the group of first years.
“Would you look at that, Morse!” called Denfield in simulated wrath.
“I should say so,” came the answer. “The nerve of him! Hi, fresh, what are you doing with that hatband?” ”

“ He almost knocked Tom over as he rushed past him and went out in time to take his place at the home plate. He did knock a home run to the delirious delight of the team, but it was short-lived joy, for, just as in the other games, Langridge went to pieces in the box, and Boxer Hall won the game by a score of 8 to 5. But the home run of Langridge so shone out that even Kerr did not have the heart to decry his friend’s ragged pitching. Coach Lighton, however, shook his head, as the championship chances for Randall College seemed fading away. ”

“ Wallop the hide off ’em—sting ’em—souse ’em—put ’em in brine for next year!” implored Holly Cross. “I’m first up, and I’m going to give you a correct imitation of a man making a home run.”
But he didn’t. Holly struck out miserably and he went away into a far corner and thought gloomy thoughts. Not for long, however. A resounding crack of the bat told him some one had knocked a fly. It was Phil Clinton, and he started for first like a deer with the hounds after it.
“My, but he can run!” exclaimed Tom in admiration. “Wouldn’t he be fine covering the gridiron with the ball tucked under his arm? ”

“ Tom was third at the bat. Now a good pitcher is usually a notoriously bad hitter. Tom proved an exception to the rule, though perhaps he had not developed into such a good pitcher yet that it applied in his case. He faced Langridge confidently and even smiled mockingly as a swift ball came in. ”

“ The fellows haven’t anything against Ed, but he’s too thick with Langridge. I’m for old Kindlings.”
“So are we,” put in Tom.
“They’ve got to hold the election to-morrow,” said Phil. “That’s the last day, according to the rules. Why, we haven’t had a bit of practice yet. We don’t know who’s going on the scrub and who has a chance for the ’varsity. I hope I can get center field.”
“Had you rather play there?” asked Tom.
“I always have. I fancy I know that position better than I do any other. But, to tell you the truth, I like football better than baseball. ”

“ The only thing is for all of us freshmen to keep together if we go out. For if they catch two or three of us alone they’ll put it all over us. But I guess there won’t be any scrub game now. The sophs would break it up.”
“When do we have any rest from them?”
“In about two weeks. After the pole rush.”
“The pole rush?”
“Yes. It’s an old college custom, as Fenton’s uncle would say. We freshmen form a ring about the big flag-pole on a certain night and the sophs try to pull us away. If they make us leave inside of fifteen minutes it means we can’t wear the class college colors until next term. ”