For the Honor of Randall Part 34

"That's the stuff!"

"Sing hearty, everybody!"

"Let her go, Bean!"

These were only a few of the cries that greeted the st.u.r.dy little cheer leader who stood before his crowd of lads at Tonoka Park field that day of the great hurdle race. For it had come at last, the day of days--the day that was to usher in the preliminary event in which Randall hoped to triumph.

As had been previously decided the hurdle race, because of the number of entrants, would be run off several days before the other contests. Each college had a number of men who wished to try their skill in this, as it was generally thought that the element of luck would enter largely, and it would be necessary to run a number of heats.

Tom, Sid, and Phil, among others were on hand, the three having all been picked to go in the race. Frank decided not to compete. All of Randall's contestants were in readiness, and they had scarcely arrived at the field ere they were joined by the throngs from the other inst.i.tutions.

Bean Perkins got his cheersters and songsters at work early, and soon the strains of the different choruses welled over the heads of the crowd.

There was not as large a throng present as would attend at the main meet, but the managers were satisfied. In addition to the hurdle race a number of events for the younger lads in the preparatory departments of each college were to be run off.

Boxer Hall, Fairview and Exter had their cheer leaders at work, and a riot of "melody," if such it can be called, welled forth. It was a beautifully sunshiny day, just warm enough, and the track, with the new hurdles supplied by Randall, was in perfect shape.

"There are the girls!" exclaimed Phil, as he and his chums started toward the dressing rooms.

This announcement, that never is without its heart-interest, no matter where made, had the usual effect. Tom and Sid at once demanded:

"Where?"

"Right in front of you," replied Phil. "Can't you see 'em waving?"

"Let's go over and say 'how-d'ye-do,' and then get into our togs,"

proposed Tom. "I don't want to go over in that crowd after I get into my Roman toga."

"Bashful!" taunted Frank.

"I'm not so stuck on myself as you are," retorted Tom, and then he dodged to escape a playful blow.

"Oh, there's no use asking us to cheer for you," said Ruth, as her brother and his chums drew near. "We're loyal to Fairview," and she waved a flag of her college colors in his face.

"Wait until you're asked, Sis," retorted Phil. "We don't need your cheers. Listen to Bean and his bunch."

"Once more!" cried the shouter to his crowd. "This time we'll give 'em 'Over the hurdles and far away,' composed especially for this occasion."

The singing began.

"Mercy! What howling!" cried Madge, in pretended horror.

"It'll sound sweeter when they sing Randall's praises," suggested Tom.

"Now, just for that I won't speak to you to-morrow," she said, with a pretended pout.

There was laughter and jollity among the youths and maidens. Tom and his chums greeted old friends and athletic foes from Fairview and Boxer Hall, until Holly Cross, coming along, sarcastically suggested that if there was going to be a hurdle race that day it was time to dress for it.

There were to be four heats, and Tom and Phil found themselves drawn in the first one. Of course in the finals the best men from each college would partic.i.p.ate.

The hurdles had been set up, and carefully looked to. Last measurements were taken, and the rules announced once more. It was to be a quarter mile race final, instead of the usual one hundred and twenty yards, for the reason that there were no other big events that day; but the preliminary heats were the regulation distance.

"Get ready!" called the starter, as he raised his pistol and looked at his stop-watch. Tom found himself getting nervous, and he wished that Bean and his crowd would sing, but this could not be done while the start was being made.

"Ready!" shouted the starter.

Crack! sounded the pistol a second later, and there was a spurt of fire and smoke.

Tom found himself well off with the leaders, and a hasty glance back showed Phil on even terms with him. Tom wanted to shout an encouraging word to his chum, but refrained as he knew he would need his breath.

Tom ran as he had seldom run before. He felt that he was in fine trim, and he almost wished it was one of the big events of the main meet, instead of a preliminary hurdle contest. Phil, too, was coming on.

Almost abreast of Tom was Lem Sellig, Frank Sullivan, Roger Barns, and Ted Puder of Fairview, while, a little further on, he made out Dave Ogden, George Stoddard, Pinkey Davenport and Lynn Ralling of Boxer Hall.

He saw a number of the Exter lads, but did not know them by name.

Now came the first hurdle. Tom took it easily, and went on without a break in his stride. Not so some of the others who fell back a trifle.

Then another stretch, and more hurdles. The pace was beginning to tell on them all.

[Ill.u.s.tration: NOW CAME THE FIRST HURDLE. TOM TOOK IT EASILY.]

There was a crash just behind Tom. He half turned his head to look, and saw Phil go down, his foot having caught on a top bar. But the plucky lad was up again in a moment, though he was hopelessly outdistanced.

It was over in what seemed a remarkably short time--that first heat, the best time being a not very remarkable performance. To Tom's chagrin neither he nor Phil qualified for the finals.

The second batch of runners came up to the marks. Once more they were off, and the crowd set up a cheer. Some of the Randall lads were in this, and Bean and his crowd cheered and sung to them to the echo. One Randallite qualified in this round.

Then came two more heats until the final was about to be run off--the one just before the big quarter-mile race that would decide the championship in that cla.s.s.

"Do your prettiest!" begged Tom of Jerry and Joe Jackson as they came to the scratch, for they were the Randall representatives now.

"Sure," they a.s.sented.

Once more the pistol cracked, and again the eager lads started off. Joe was well in the lead, taking the hurdles with an ease that surprised his friends, and sent a wave of envy through the hearts of his rivals. Nor was Jerry far behind him.

"He'll win!" decided Tom.

"Give 'em something to keep 'em going!" cried Bean to his crowd, and forth welled the song: "There's nothing like a Randallite to do or die, to eat or fight!"

Jerry carried off for Randall first honors of that heat, and so qualified for the final. Sid, too, was also in the cla.s.s, and with Joe Jackson and others made up those who would try for final honors. There were two lads from Boxer--Dave Ogden and Pinkey Davenport--three from Fairview--Lem Sellig, Frank Sullivan and Roger Barns,--and two from Exter--George Birch and Ted Morrison--who were in the final, making a goodly crowd.

This was to be the supreme test, and on it depended much, for the winner of this race would add a goodly number of points to his college's total.

They lined up, a throbbing, eager batch of lads, with ears on the alert for the sound of the pistol that was to send them off.

Crack! it came with startling suddenness, and they all sprang forward.

"Now, boys, the 'Conquer or Die,' song!" yelled Bean, and the Latin song, which had helped win many a victory under the banners of Randall filled the air. It came at a time when the other college cheering crowds were silent, and produced an unusual effect.

On and on rushed the hurdle racers, panting, fighting for every inch, taking magnificent leaps, to clear the obstacles, covering yard after yard in long strides.