The Rushton Boys at Rally Hall Part 19

"Of course," he went on, "there isn't any vacancy now, and the boys who have been here longest will be given first chance. But, to hold his position, he'll have to prove that no one of the new fellows is better than he is. You won't mind playing on the scrubs at the start, will you?"

"Not a bit," answered Fred stoutly. "I'll go in there and work my head off just the same as if I were on the regular team."

"That's the talk," cried Melvin. "That's the spirit I like to see. And I can see right now that Tom will have all he wants to do to hold his job."

So Fred had gone in on the scrub. There had not been as much chance for practice as usual, as there had been an unusually large number of rainy days that fall, but already he had loomed up as by far the best player among the subst.i.tutes. He was right in line for promotion.

And this afternoon his chance came, sooner than he had expected.

The playing had been unusually spirited, and the scrubs had been giving the regulars all they could do to hold their own. At last, however, the first team had got the ball down within ten feet of their opponents'

line, and the ball had been pa.s.sed to Tom Eldridge for one determined attempt to "get it over."

The scrubs braced savagely, but Tom came plunging in like a locomotive.

There was a wild mix-up as his adversaries piled up on him, and when the ma.s.s was untangled, Tom lay on the ground with a badly sprained ankle.

He tried to rise, but sank back with a groan.

They lifted him up, and he stood on one foot, with his arms on their shoulders. Professor Raymond, who had the oversight of athletic sports, came hurrying up and examined the injury. All were immensely relieved when they learned that there were no bones broken, but became grave again when the professor said that the sprain was a bad one and would probably lay Tom up for a couple of weeks.

"Just before the Lake Forest game, too!" exclaimed Ned Wayland. "I tell you, it's tough."

"We're goners now!" moaned Slim Haley.

"Not by a jugful," put in Tom, between whom and Fred the rivalry had been of the most generous kind. "I never saw the day when I could play better football than Fred Rushton. He'll play the position to the queen's taste."

"Nonsense," said Fred. "You can put it all over me, Tom. I'm awfully sorry you got hurt."

Professor Raymond insisted that Tom should be carried at once to the school, where he could have his injured ankle attended to properly. The boys cheered the lad as he was taken away, and then Granger turned to Fred.

"You take his place, Fred," he said, "and show these fellows from Missouri what you can do."

And Fred showed them. He was a little nervous at first as he felt all eyes following him, but, in the excitement of the game, this wore off, and he played like a fiend. He was here, there and everywhere, dodging, twisting, running like a deer, bucking the line with a force that would not be denied. Twice he carried the ball over the line for a touchdown, and before his onslaughts the scrubs crumpled up like paper. It was some of the finest playing that Rally Hall had ever seen, and when the game was ended, he was greeted with a tempest of cheers. He had "made good"

beyond a doubt.

"Fred, you played like a wild man!" said Melvin, as they were walking back to the Hall after the game. "You're all to the mustard. Keep it up and we'll lick Lake Forest out of their boots!"

CHAPTER XIX

THE MAN WITH THE SCAR

A few days later Teddy came rushing up to Fred on the campus, his face aglow with excitement.

"Say, Fred," he gasped, "I saw one of them to-day!"

"One of whom?" asked Fred.

"The tramps that looted Cy Brigg's store," responded Teddy.

"You don't mean it!" exclaimed Fred, catching his brother's excitement.

"Are you sure? Where did you see him? How do you know he was one of them?"

"By the scar on his face," answered Teddy. "You remember the tall one who looked as if some one had stabbed him up near the temple? I'm sure he's the same one we saw in Sam Perkins' barn."

"Wasn't the other fellow with him?" asked Fred.

"No, he was all alone this time. I was coming up from the post office with Lester Lee when I caught sight of him near the railroad track. He looked tough and slouchy, but not as ragged as when we first saw him."

"Yes," interrupted Fred, "he's had money since then."

"I thought there was something about him that reminded me of some one,"

went on Teddy, "but it wasn't till after I'd pa.s.sed him that it came over me who he was. Then I turned around to go after him, with the idea of having him arrested. But he had just gone over the tracks in front of a freight train. The train was a long one and we had to wait several minutes on this side before it got by. Then it was too late. We hunted all over, but couldn't see anything of him."

"That was hard luck," said Fred regretfully.

"Of course," resumed Teddy, "he wasn't trying to get away, because he'd never seen me before, and didn't know that I'd ever seen him. He must have turned a corner somewhere and then melted out of sight. Maybe I wasn't sore! Think what a satisfaction it would be to telegraph to Uncle Aaron that we'd got the fellow who stole his watch."

"It's certainly tough," a.s.sented Fred, "to come so close to him and just miss getting him. I'll 'phone down right away to the constable at Green Haven, and tell him to be on the lookout for the fellow."

"Tell him there's a reward out for him," suggested Teddy. "That'll make him keep his eye peeled."

Fred telephoned at once, and received the a.s.surance that the fellow would be arrested if found, and held as a suspicious character until the Oldtown authorities could send for him.

And the next day, the boys themselves, together with a number of their friends, spent all their spare time searching in that part of the town where the tramp had disappeared.

"It's no use, I guess," remarked Fred at last, as they turned back from the outskirts of the town. "He may be miles away by this time."

"Getting ready to break into some other store, perhaps," suggested Teddy. "The loot he got in Oldtown won't last him forever."

"There's a pretty tough looking customer going down that lane,"

exclaimed Bill Garwood, as they came to a corner in a poor part of the town.

The boys followed his glance and saw a tall, roughly dressed man slouching along a hundred yards away and making toward the open country.

He was alone and seemed to be in no hurry.

"It's the same fellow we saw yesterday," said Teddy excitedly. "I'm sure of it. How about it, Lester?"

"It surely looks like him," replied Lester Lee. "The same walk and the same clothes and--yes, the same face," as the man gave a careless look behind him.

"You get down to the constable's office, quick, Teddy," directed Fred.

"Run every step of the way. Tell him we've got this fellow located.

We'll try to keep him in sight until you get back. Hustle."

Teddy was off like a shot.

But the tramp seemed to know that something was in the air. He looked around again and then quickened his pace. The boys, too, walked faster, and, noting this with another backward glance, the man in front made certain that they were following him with a purpose. What that purpose was he did not know, but his guilty conscience told him that it might be for any one of half a dozen offences.