For the Honor of Randall Part 39

"Fight! Fight!" cried a number.

"Frank isn't a professional, and never was," declared Sid Henderson, jumping up and excitedly waving his arms. "I say let's defy Exter and all the rest."

"And maybe break up the meet?" asked Dan.

"Fellows, let me speak once more," begged Frank. "I have thought this matter over carefully in the last few minutes, and, while I don't retreat one point from my position, perhaps a compromise would be better than a contest."

"No! No! Contest it!" was the general cry.

"Wait!" begged the lad who had most at stake. "This comes at an unfortunate moment. Shambler confessed that he was a professional.

Fortunately it came in time to save the honor of Randall. Now, what I propose to do is for the further honor of our college."

"What's the matter with Frank Simpson?" demanded Bean Perkins.

"He's--all--right!" was thundered out.

"Thank you, boys," responded the Big Californian, when quiet had been restored. "I appreciate all that, but we must face the facts. As soon as it becomes known that Shambler has confessed, there will be a lot of talk. Fortunately Randall can't be scorned. We have done our duty. Now there's this charge against me. There are some complications in it. I believe----"

"A fair committee would never bar you," broke in Tom.

"Perhaps not," admitted Frank. "But we don't want any question raised.

Boys," he went on, and his voice was solemn, "we have to think of the honor of Randall before we think of ourselves. It's the college and not the contestants who will be exalted, or dragged down, as the case may be.

"I fully believe that I am in the right, and that no charge of professionalism would stand against me. But, for the honor of Randall I want you to let me withdraw. I----"

"No! No!" came a storm of protests.

"Stick it out!" urged Joe Jackson.

"We're with you to the end," added Phil.

Frank raised his hand for silence.

"It's very good of you to say that," he went on, when he could be heard, "but I know how these things sometimes turn out. There is talk afterward.

You don't want the success of Randall questioned, in case she should win this meet."

"But can we win with you and Shambler out?" someone asked.

"Boys, you've got to--for the honor of Randall," said Frank quietly.

"You've just got to! You've got to let me drop out, and someone must take my place. It can be done, easily. Someone must run for Shambler, too. I know it's going to be hard to get someone with his record, but we'll do it. Boys, I'm not going to take part in the games. That's final!"

In spite of the fact that they all expected this as a climax to what Frank had started to say, it came as a shock. There was a tense silence, and then someone asked:

"Isn't there a way out? We need you, Simpson."

"There is no way out, except my resignation," answered Frank, "and I hereby tender it now, formally, and ask that it be accepted at once.

Then you can go into the games with a clean slate, and--win!"

CHAPTER XXVII

"WHAT'S TO BE DONE?"

For perhaps five seconds no one spoke after Frank had announced his decision, a decision that meant more to him than anyone suspected. Then there came a spontaneous cheer--a cheer for the lad who could sacrifice himself for the honor of his college.

"What's the matter with Frank Simpson?" again demanded Bean Perkins.

Instantly came the answer:

"He's all right!"

"Tiger!" yelled the irrepressible Bean, and the yellow-striped cheer was given with a will.

"Well, I suppose there's nothing else to be done," spoke Holly, regretfully.

"Nothing," replied Frank, and the wonder of it was that he could smile.

"Nothing but to accept my withdrawal, and so inform the committee from Exter."

"And then we've got to get busy and see who we can put in your place, and Shambler's," added Kindlings.

The resignation was formally accepted, and word was sent to Wallace and his friends. They expressed their regret at the necessity, and even admitted that perhaps a ruling from the A. A. U. might bear out Frank's contention that he was not a professional.

"But we haven't time for it," said Holly. "We'll take our medicine, though it's a bitter pill to swallow."

"I hope you don't think we did this because of any fear on our part that we couldn't win against your two men," spoke the Exter manager.

"Not at all," Holly a.s.sured him. "I appreciate your position, but it's tough on us, to lose two good men. I can't get over that cad Shambler."

"He certainly played a mean part," agreed Wallace. "This Simpson's case is altogether different. I'm sorry for him."

"We all are," put in Kindlings. "Well, we've got a little time left in which to make good. I'm glad we don't have to go into the games to-morrow."

"Not wishing you any bad luck," spoke the Exter lad, with a frank laugh, "I hope we beat you."

"Randall is hard to beat," spoke Holly grimly. "You'll find us on the job when the time comes."

But when the protesting committee had left the boys of Randall looked at each other with troubled eyes.

"What's to be done?" was the general question.

No one could answer.

"Of course we've got to go on and play the game," declared Holly Cross.

"We've a few days in which to select some lads to take the places of Shambler and Frank. Oh, why couldn't it have been someone else? This leaves the mile run and the broad jump open, and we were counting on those two contests especially. Of the others I'm not so much afraid. But who are we going to enter for those contests?"