Winning His "W" Part 22

"Oh, I mean all we were planning to do to-day. I'd like to go down to the gym this afternoon and watch the bulletins of the game. I decided not to go, but if I can get my work off that'll be the next best thing; and besides it'll help to pa.s.s the time. It's going to be a long day for me."

"All right, I'm agreeable," replied the senior cordially.

Until the hour of noon was rung out by the clock in the tower, Will labored hard. The words of his tutor had been inspiring, but he could not disguise from himself the fact, however, that he had little love for the task. It was simply a determination not to be "downed," as Will expressed it, that led him on and he was holding on doggedly, resolutely, almost blindly, but still he was holding on. About three o'clock in the afternoon the few students who were in town a.s.sembled at the telegraph office where messages were to be received from the team at intervals of ten minutes describing the progress of the game. One of the seniors had been selected to read the dispatches and only a few minutes had elapsed after the a.s.sembly had gathered before the senior appeared, coming out of the telegraph office and waving aloft the yellow slip. A cheer greeted his appearance but this was followed by a tense silence as he read aloud:

"They're off. Great crowd. Winthrop line outweighed ten pounds to a man.

Holding like a stone wall."

"That's the way to talk it!" shouted the reader as he handed the dispatch to the operator, and then began to sing one of the college songs, in which he was speedily joined by the noisy group.

The song was hushed when again the operator appeared and handed another slip to the leader. Glancing quickly at it the senior read aloud:

"Ball on Alden's twenty-five yard line. Great run by Thomas. Hawley playing star game."

Hawley, Thomas, and the captain of the team, and then the team itself, were cheered, and once more the group of students gave vent to their feelings in a noisy song. It was all stimulating and interesting, and Will Phelps was so keenly alive to all that was occurring, that for the time even his disappointment in not being able to accompany the team was forgotten.

A groan followed the reading of the next dispatch. "Alden's ball on a fumble. Steadily forcing Winthrop line back by superior weight. Ball on Winthrop's forty-yard line."

"That looks bad," said Will's tutor, who had now joined the a.s.sembly and was standing beside Will Phelps. "We've a quick team, but I'm afraid of Alden's weight. They've two or three men who ought not to be permitted to play, anyway."

"Professionals?" inquired Will.

"Yes, or worse."

"Have we any on our team?"

"Hardly," laughed the senior. But Will was thinking of the conversation he had had with Hawley when they had first entered college, and was silent. Besides, another dispatch was about to be read and he was eager to hear.

"Ball on Winthrop's five-yard line. Hawley injured and out of the game."

"Too much beef," muttered the reader disconsolately, and the silence in the a.s.sembly was eloquent of feelings that could not be expressed.

Less than the regular interval had elapsed when another yellow slip was handed to the reader, and the suspense in the crowd was almost painful.

The very silence and the glances that were given were all indicative of the fear that now possessed every heart.

"Alden makes touchdown. No goal," read the leader.

"Six nothing! Team's no good this year, anyway!" declared one of the students angrily. "Had no business to play Alden, anyway! Ought to have games with teams in our cla.s.s."

"Alden seemed to be in our cla.s.s last year, or rather she didn't," said the reader quietly. "Remember what the score was?"

"No. What was it?"

"Twenty-four to nothing in our favor. If they win this year it will be only following out the regulation see-saw that's been going on for seven years. Neither college has won its game for two successive years."

"Alden will win this time all right enough."

"Perhaps. The game isn't ended yet. You haven't learned the Winthrop spirit yet, which is never to give up till the game is played clear through to the end. You've got something to learn yet." The rebuked student did not reply, but the expression upon his face betrayed the fact that he was still unconvinced, and that he did indeed have the first of all lessons taught at Winthrop yet to learn.

The score was unchanged at the end of the first half, and the students scattered during the period of intermission, a.s.sured that no further information would be received until after the second half of the game was begun. The confidence in victory was, however, not so great when they a.s.sembled once more, though the interest apparently was as keen as at the beginning. For some unaccountable reason the dispatches were delayed and a much longer interval than usual intervened before the welcome yellow slip was handed to the announcer. Murmurs of disappointment were heard on every side, and it became more evident with every pa.s.sing moment that hope had mostly been lost. At last, however, the welcome word was received, and even Will Phelps was so eager to hear that he crowded forward into the front ranks of the a.s.sembly.

"Alden scores touchdown and goal. Winthrop fighting desperately, but outweighed and outplayed since Hawley taken out."

"It's all over but the shouting," said the soph.o.m.ore whose gloomy views had been so sharply rebuked by the senior. "There isn't any use in hanging around here. Come on, fellows! Let's go where there's something a little more cheerful."

He made as if to depart from the crowd, but as no one followed him, he apparently abandoned his purpose and remained with his fellows. Only two more dispatches were read, the second of which announced the end of the game with the score still standing in favor of Alden thirteen to nothing.

"Rotten!" exclaimed the soph.o.m.ore angrily. "Just what we might--" He stopped abruptly as the senior advanced to a place where he could be seen by all and began to harangue the a.s.sembly.

"Now, fellows," he began, "the best test of our spirit is that we can stand up and take this in the right way. Of course, we wanted the game, and some of us hoped and expected we would have it too. But the other team, and doubtless the better one, has won. Next year we'll be ready for them again, or rather you will, for I sha'n't be here, and the time to begin to win then is right here and now. But I want to put in a good word for our team. I haven't a doubt that they did their level best, and if we could see them now, we'd be almost as proud of them as if they had won. I know every man put in his best work. And what I propose is that we go down to the station to-night and meet them with as hearty a cheer as if they had won the game, for we know they did their best to uphold the honor of old Winthrop to a man!"

A cheer greeted the senior's words, and at ten o'clock that evening all the students who were in town a.s.sembled at the little station to greet the returning members of the team. But Will Phelps, when the train came to a standstill and the boys leaped out upon the platform, speedily forgot all about the game in the sight which greeted his eyes.

CHAPTER XVII

PETER JOHN'S DOWNFALL

In the midst of the cheering and shouting that greeted the return of the team and its supporters, Will Phelps attained a glimpse of the st.u.r.dy heroes themselves who had fought the battle of the gridiron. Some of them were somewhat battered and he could see that Hawley carried his arm in a sling. His cla.s.smate's face was pale, but as he was surrounded by a crowd of students, Will found it was impossible to make his way to him and soon gave up the attempt. He was standing somewhat back from the train eagerly watching all that was going on about him, but only in a half-hearted way joining in the excitement, for the defeat of the team and his own disappointment in not being able to make the trip had chilled his enthusiasm.

Suddenly he caught sight of Foster as he stepped down upon the platform and instantly Will began to push his way forward to greet him. As Foster stepped down he turned back as if to a.s.sist some one, and Will perceived that it was Peter John Schenck who was being a.s.sisted. But his actions were strange and his general appearance was woebegone in the extreme.

"What's the matter with Peter John? Sick?" inquired Will as he pressed forward.

"Sick? Sick nothing!" retorted Foster in a low voice. "Can't you see what ails him? The fool!"

The maudlin expression on Peter John's face, his wabbling steps, the silly smile with which he greeted Will at once disclosed what his condition was and with a feeling of disgust Will turned away.

"Hold on, Will," called Peter John tremulously, beginning to cry as he spoke, "don't go backsh on a fellow now. I los' all my money. Seven dollar I put up on the team an' they jis' sold out," and Peter John's tears increased and he threatened to fall on Foster's shoulder.

Will had turned back sharply at the words, his disgust and anger so plainly stamped upon his face that even Peter John was moved by it and began to sob audibly. "Sold out, Will! Seven dollar all gone! Too bad!

Too bad!"

"Get a taxi, Will," said Foster in a low voice. "If we can get the fellow up to his room without attracting too much attention we may be able to put him in bed."

As Will turned away, he was rejoiced to notice that his cla.s.smate's condition had apparently not attracted the attention of the crowd, which was too much occupied in the excitement of greeting the team to be mindful of other matters. Disgust and anger were so mingled in Will's feelings that he was hardly aware of what he was doing, but at last he succeeded in getting a taxi, and bidding the driver hold it near the end of the platform, he hastened back to the a.s.sistance of Foster.

As he returned he noticed that Mott was now with Peter John, and only one glance was required to show that he was in a condition similar to that of Peter John, though not quite so helpless.

"Glad t' see you, freshman," stammered Mott as Will approached. "Great sport, that fellow," and he pointed stupidly at Peter John as he spoke.

"Put up his monish like li'le man. No squeal from him, no, not a squeal.

No, goo' man. Goo' man, freshman."

"Shall we take him too?" inquired Will of Foster.