For the Honor of Randall Part 29

The crowd of athletes poured from the gymnasium, where the notice had been posted for some time, and flocked out on the field, ready to do their best to win the coveted places of defending the honor of Randall.

"We'll have the mile run first," decided Kindlings, after a talk with Holly. "We'll pick the three best men to go in the games against Boxer Hall, Fairview and Exter. Come on now, you fellows who are going to run."

An eager crowd watched the preparations and warm-up practice. Then came the crack of the pistol, and the field was off.

It is not my purpose here to describe the preliminary trials in detail, so I will merely state that Shambler came out first in the mile run, with Tom Parsons second and Jerry Jackson third.

"They'll go in for Randall," announced Holly, as he jotted down the names. "Now for the broad jump."

In this Frank Simpson came out ahead, with Sid Henderson second and Pete Backus third.

"But I'm going to win when it comes to the final," declared Pete earnestly. "I haven't had enough practice yet."

"And you'll never get it, I'm afraid," said Kindlings under his breath.

Still he could not help but admire the persistency of "the gra.s.shopper."

There was much interest in the one hundred and twenty yard hurdle race, and this promised to be one of the best events on the card.

The new pieces of apparatus were used, and worked well. Phil Clinton came out ahead, but Joe Jackson was a close second. When it came to picking third there was hard work, for Sam Looper, Dan Woodhouse, Kindlings and Sid Henderson were so well bunched that it was hard to decide, and the six were put down as possible starters against the rival colleges.

In the high jump Berry Foster was first, with Jim Weston second and Paul Hughes third. Dutch Housenlager, with his big bunches of muscles easily won the palm at throwing the fifty-six pound weight, Dan Woodhouse being second and Bean Perkins, who said it would not interfere with his shouting abilities, coming out third.

Phil Clinton easily distanced the others at the pole vaulting contest, Red Warren being second and Holly Cross third; while at putting the sixteen pound shot, Dan Woodhouse won, with Frank Simpson second and Sid as a good third.

"Now that we've got this much settled we can come somewhere knowing where we're at," declared Holly, after the final try-outs. "This doesn't mean that none of you fellows haven't a chance," he hastened to add, "for we may need any one of you yet, so keep in training."

"Well, I'm glad this much is over," remarked Tom, as he joined his three chums, who were walking toward the gymnasium for a welcome shower bath.

"Same here!" cried a voice behind them, and Shambler came running up.

"Say," he cried, "I wish the games were to-morrow, instead of a week or more off. I'm as fit as a fiddle!"

In what was probably the exuberance of his animal spirits he came running up, and, with a leap landed on Frank's back.

"Look out!" cried the Big Californian. "You'll upset me!"

"It'll do you good!" cried Shambler. "Here we go!"

But Frank, who was rather tired, was in no mood for horse-play of this character. He slewed around, slumped over and fairly dumped Shambler off his shoulders.

A moment later the new student came down heavily on Frank's foot with his spiked running shoes. There was a cry of pain from Frank, a well-meant gasp of apology from the offender, and then the lad from the state of the Golden Gate limped painfully to one side.

"What's the matter?" cried Tom.

"My foot! My foot!" murmured Frank. "I'm afraid----"

He would have fallen had not Phil caught him, while the others gathered about Shambler with a look of concern on his face.

CHAPTER XX

"WE NEED EVERY POINT"

"Say, old man, I'm mighty sorry about that!" cried the lad who had caused the mischief, as he put his arm about Frank. "I wouldn't have done it for the world--I slipped. Are you badly hurt?"

It needed but a glance at Frank's shoe, whence came a few drops of blood, to show that he was painfully hurt, if not seriously crippled.

"The spikes have gone clear through!" gasped Sid.

"No, it's not as bad as that," said Frank. "Get my shoe off, fellows, and----"

A spasm of pain prevented him from finishing the sentence and he sat down on the ground. Tom had the shoe off quickly.

It was seen that two of the spikes on Shambler's sole had gone through the outer, fleshy part of Frank's foot. There was a little bleeding, but it soon stopped.

"That's got to be looked at at once!" decided Holly Cross when he saw it. "You're likely to go lame, old man."

"Jove! That's bad," murmured Phil, and several black looks were cast at Shambler, for all the lads knew how much depended on Frank in the broad jumping contest.

"Oh, I guess I'll be all right," spoke the injured lad, whose pain was abated somewhat with the removal of the shoe, for his foot had begun to swell. "It's all right, Shambler. I know you didn't mean to do it. I'll be in shape for the meet all right."

"I hope so, old man," spoke the new lad sincerely, and his former joyous spirits seemed to have slipped from him like a garment. Tom felt himself disliking Shambler with a feeling that was akin to hate, and he had to fight hard to keep control of his temper. As it was he murmured under his breath:

"The cad! I wish he'd never come to Randall!"

"Come on, boys, we'll have to give Frank a hand up," suggested Holly.

"Help him to his room, and we'll get the Doc to look at him."

Willing hands a.s.sisted Frank along, so that he did not have to bear any weight on his injured foot. Shambler wanted to help, but Tom, Sid and Phil insisted on giving "first aid," and they were sufficient.

The physician looked grave when he saw the injury, not so much at the nature of the hurt itself, for it was comparatively slight, but he was concerned for what might develop.

"I don't see how you're going to do any jumping for the next month,"

said the physician, when told that Frank was expected to hold up Randall's end of the big events.

"Oh, but I've got to!" declared the Big Californian. "To paraphrase the old saying, 'Randall expects every lad to do his duty.' I've got to jump."

"Then I have to tell you that if you do, you may lame yourself for the rest of your life," went on the doctor seriously. "Some of the tendons are cut, and unless they heal properly you are liable to tear them loose if you put too much strain on them. You've got to be careful."

Frank groaned, and his chums looked anxious. Holly Cross and Kindlings, who were at the conference, shook their heads.

"We'll just have to make other arrangements then," said Holly, as he walked out with his companion manager. "If Frank can't jump he may be able to help out in the hammer, or weight-throwing contests."

"We'll try that, as soon as he's able to be up," decided Kindlings.

"This is bad business. I'll give Shambler a call down. He's too fresh."