For the Honor of Randall Part 28

"Yes," answered Tom shortly, as he inserted it in the lock.

"Talk about luck!" exulted Shambler, as he slipped in ahead of Tom, who stood back to let him pa.s.s in first. "It's great, isn't it?"

Tom did not answer. A wave of revulsion against this lad seemed to sweep over him, and he recalled a certain day in the woods when he had seen the fellow with Madge Tyler.

Shambler, not seeming to notice the grouchiness of his companion, pa.s.sed hurriedly along the dark corridor toward his room. Tom walked more slowly, having made sure that the door was locked after him. He had not gone half a dozen steps, before the door of the proctor's office opened, and Mr. Zane stepped out.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"Parsons," replied our hero. "I had permission. I was studying with Morrison."

"Oh, yes, I recollect. Who came in with you, Parsons?"

"In with me?" repeated Tom, for he had hoped that this question would not be asked.

"Yes, I heard the footsteps of two, and you were the only one in this dormitory who had permission to be out to-night. Who came in with you?"

"I--er--that is--I don't wish to tell, Mr. Zane."

"I demand to know," said the proctor sternly. "You let someone in; did you not?"

"Yes, sir, but----"

"And you won't tell who it was?"

Tom hesitated for a moment, but it was only a moment. There came an instant of temptation. He recalled what Shambler had said about the probability of suspension if he was caught again.

"And it would be a good thing if he did go," thought Tom bitterly. "Good for Randall--good. But then the games! We need him!"

Then he knew that it was a selfish motive that was urging him to take advantage of the chance thrown in his way.

"No! No! I--I can't do it!" he cried within himself.

"Well," asked the proctor sharply.

"I--I can't tell you," answered Tom simply.

"You mean you won't?"

"If you prefer to put it that way--yes, sir."

"Very well. I will see you in the morning," and, turning on his heel, the proctor went back into his office.

CHAPTER XIX

THE TRY-OUTS

There must have been rather a strenuous time between Dr. Churchill and Proctor Zane early the next morning--a discussion concerning college ethics that, as Tom learned later, had a bearing on his own case. But nothing came of it, and though at chapel Dr. Churchill spoke rather solemnly on "duty" he made no direct reference to anyone.

Tom was not summoned to the proctor's office, for which he was duly thankful, not that he felt that he would have betrayed Shambler, but he did not like to be cross-questioned.

Just how the news leaked out no one could say, but such things do become known, more or less, in all colleges, and it was common rumor that the proctor and the president had differed materially on the point of making Tom tell. But Dr. Churchill won his contention, and the episode became a closed one.

As the days of Spring wore on, with the gra.s.s growing greener, and the weather more and more mild, there came over all a spirit of unrest, and yet not so much unrest as it was a desire to be up and doing.

The diamond was being put in shape. The line-up of the nine was already much talked of, but, overshadowing all this, was the prospect of the track games. Several meetings had been held of the committees in charge of the proposed big meet, and final details were being gradually worked out.

It had been practically decided that the affair would be held in Tonoka Park. This was a sort of summer resort near Tonoka Lake, which gave the name to the football and baseball leagues, of which I have written elsewhere.

Exter, the new member of the league, showed a disposition to have the meet held on their own athletic grounds, which a millionaire had presented to the inst.i.tution, with much display of black type in the newspapers. But the contentions of Randall, Boxer Hall and Fairview were heeded. They were to the effect that a neutral field was fairer for all concerned.

But there was much else to be done. While, naturally, I have dwelt mostly on the doings at Randall in this volume, of course much the same things were being done at the other three inst.i.tutions.

There was practice, practice and still more practice, on all sides.

Trainers and coachers were busy at each college, and the gymnasiums and fields presented animated scenes every day. Everyone was training hard, for this was the first holding of the quadruple meet, and each college wanted to win.

It had been decided that the total number of points scored should decide the winner. And, to this end, the rules of the Amateur Athletic Union had been adopted.

"How many events are going to be run off?" asked Tom one afternoon, as Holly Cross and Kindlings were holding a consultation. "When are we going to know 'em?"

"We can tell you now what events will likely be the main ones," answered Holly. "Of course, more may be added after we have the final try-outs and pick those who are to hold up the honor of Randall.

"There'll be a mile run, a hurdle race, high jumping, broad jumping, putting the fifty-six pound weight, the sixteen pound shot, and the hammer-throw. Then there'll be a pole-vaulting contest, and probably a hundred-yard dash. Oh, there's to be honor and glory enough for all who make good."

"And the try-outs?" asked Sid. "I'd like to know if I've got to train to the minute."

"We all have!" exclaimed Holly. "Not a man at Randall can afford to grow stale. h.e.l.lo, there comes Shambler. I'm hoping a lot from him. If he pulls down the mile run for us it will help a lot. Then we're depending on Dutch in the weight contest, and--well, but what's the use of talking--we're counting on every man in Randall. We want to win all the events if we can."

"And we'll be there with the goods!" declared Frank Simpson.

"Well, everybody on his mark!" went on Holly. "I think the final try-outs will be held in a few days, and then we'll know who we'll have to depend on specially. Of course there may be changes later on, but we want to get a line on where we stand."

For the next few days practice went on unceasingly. From early morning until dusk fell some of the boys were out on the field, running, leaping, springing, using the pole, testing themselves in the broad or high jump, taking hurdles or throwing weights or hammers. And the four inseparables did their share.

Shambler, too, was active. He was rapidly forging to the front as one of the best athletes that had ever worn the "R" of Randall, and though many did not care much for him, even his enemies had to admit that he was likely to bring honor to the college.

"That was mighty white of you, old man, not to give me away," he said to Tom, one day, after the rumor of the demand made by the proctor had become quite well known. "I'll not forget it, either, I a.s.sure you."

"All right--don't get caught--that's all," was Tom's not very gracious reply.

"No more chances for me," declared Shambler. "Too much depends on it."

Tom wondered whether he meant his own fortunes, or those of Randall, and he could not help thinking of the shabby man who had been so eager to get money from the new student.

"Come on! Come on! Everybody on the job!" cried Holly Cross one fine afternoon. "This is the last chance! Final try-outs this afternoon!"