Gladiator

  VI

  The short branch line to which Hugo changed brought him to the fringe ofthe campus. The cars were full of boys, so many of them that he wasembarrassed. They all appeared to know each other, and no one spoke tohim. His dreams on the train were culminated. He had decided to become agreat athlete. With his mind's eye, he played the football he wouldplay--and the baseball. Ninety-yard runs, homers hit over the fence intooblivion. Seeing the boys and feeling their lack of notice of himredoubled the force of that decision. Then he stepped on to the stationplatform and stood facing the campus. He could not escape a rush ofreverence and of awe; it was so wide, so green and beautiful. Far awaytowered the giant arches of the stadium. Near by were the sharp Gothicpoints of the chapel and the graduate college. Between them a score ormore of buildings rambled in and out through the trees.

  "Hey!"

  Hugo turned a little self-consciously. A youth in a white shirt andwhite trousers was beckoning to him. "Freshman, aren't you?"

  "Yes. My name's Danner. Hugo Danner."

  "I'm Lefty Foresman. Chuck!" A second student separated himself from thebustle of baggage and young men. "Here's a freshman."

  Hugo waited with some embarrassment. He wondered why they wanted afreshman. Lefty introduced Chuck and then said: "Are you strong,freshman?"

  For an instant he was stunned. Had they heard, guessed? Then he realizedit was impossible. They wanted him to work. They were going to haze him."Sure," he said.

  "Then get this trunk and I'll show you where to take it."

  Hugo was handed a baggage check. He found the official and located thetrunk. Tentatively he tested its weight, as if he were a normally huskyyouth about to undertake its transportation. He felt pleased that hisstrength was going to be tried so accidentally and in such short order.Lefty and Chuck heaved the trunk on his back. "Can you carry it?" theyasked.

  "Sure."

  "Don't be too sure. It's a long way."

  Peering from beneath the trunk under which he bent with a fairassumption of human weakness, Hugo had his first close glimpse ofWebster. They passed under a huge arch and down a street lined withelms. Students were everywhere, carrying books and furniture, moving inwheelbarrows and moving by means of the backs of other freshmen. The twowho led him were talking and he listened as he plodded.

  "Saw Marcia just before I left the lake--took her out one night--and gotall over the place with her--and then came down--she's coming to thefirst prom with me--and Marj to the second--got to get some beerin--we'll buzz out and see if old Snorenson has made any wine thissummer. Hello, Eddie--glad to see you back--I've elected the dean'sphysics, though, God knows, I'll never get a first in them and I need itfor a key. That damn Frosh we picked up sure must have been aporter--hey, freshmen! Want a rest?"

  "No, thanks."

  "Went down to the field this afternoon--looks all right to me. The team,that is. Billings is going to quarter it now--and me after that--hope toChrist I make it--they're going to have Scapper and Dwan back at Yaleand we've got a lot of work to do. Frosh! You don't need to drag thatall the way in one yank. Put it down, will you?"

  "I'm not tired. I don't need a rest."

  "Well, you know best--but you ought to be tired. I would. Where do youcome from?"

  "Colorado."

  "Huh! People go to Colorado. Never heard of any one coming from therebefore. Whereabouts?"

  "Indian Creek."

  "Oh." There was a pause. "You aren't an Indian, are you?" It was askedbluntly.

  "Scotch Presbyterian for twenty generations."

  "Well, when you get through here, you'll be full of Scotch and emptiedof the Presbyterianism. Put the trunk down."

  Their talk of women, of classes, of football, excited Hugo. He was notquite as amazed to find that Lefty Foresman was one of the candidatesfor the football team as he might have been later when he knew how manystudents attended the university and how few, relatively, were athletes.He decided at once that he liked Lefty. The sophistication of his talkwas unfamiliar to Hugo; much of it he could not understand and onlyguessed. He wanted Lefty to notice him. When he was told to put thetrunk down, he did not obey. Instead, with precision and ease, he swungit up on his shoulder, held it with one hand and said in an unflusteredtone: "I'm not tired, honestly. Where do we go from here?"

  "Great howling Jesus!" Lefty said, "what have we here? Hey! Put thattrunk down." There was excitement in his voice. "Say, guy, do thatagain."

  Hugo did it. Lefty squeezed his biceps and grew pale. Those muscles inaction lost their feel of flesh and became like stone. Lefty said: "Say,boy, can you play football?"

  "Sure," Hugo said.

  "Well, you leave that trunk with Chuck, here, and come with me."

  Hugo did as he had been ordered and they walked side by side to thegymnasium. Hugo had once seen a small gymnasium, ill equipped and badlylighted, and it had appealed mightily to him. Now he stood in aprodigious vaulted room with a shimmering floor, a circular balcony, avaried array of apparatus. His hands clenched. Lefty quit him for amoment and came back with a man who wore knickers. "Mr. Woodman, thisis--what the hell's your name?"

  "Danner. Hugo Danner."

  "Mr. Woodman is football coach."

  Hugo took the man's hand. Lefty excused himself. Mr. Woodman said:"Young Foresman said you played football."

  "Just on a high-school team in Colorado."

  "Said you were husky. Go in my office and ask Fitzsimmons to give you agym suit. Come out when you're ready."

  Hugo undressed and put on the suit. Fitzsimmons, the trainer, looked athim with warm admiration. "You're sure built, son."

  "Yeah. That's luck, isn't it?"

  Then Hugo was taken to another office. Woodman asked him a number ofquestions about his weight, his health, his past medical history. Helistened to Hugo's heart and then led him to a scale. Hugo had liedabout his weight.

  "I thought you said one hundred and sixty, Mr. Danner?"

  The scales showed two hundred and eleven, but it was impossible for aman of his size and build to weigh that much. Hugo had lieddeliberately, hoping that he could avoid the embarrassment of beingweighed. "I did, Mr. Woodman. You see--my weight is a sort of freak. Idon't show it--no one would believe it--and yet there it is." He did notgo into the details of his construction from a plasm new to biology.

  "Huh!" Mr. Woodman said. Together they walked out on the floor of thegymnasium. Woodman called to one of the figures on the track who wasmaking slow, plodding circuits. "Hey, Nellie! Take this bird up and pacehim for a lap. Make it fast."

  A little smile came at the corners of Hugo's mouth. Several of the menin the gymnasium stopped work to watch the trial of what was evidently anew candidate. "Ready?" Woodman said, and the runners crouched side byside. "Set? Go!"

  Nelson, one of the best sprinters Webster had had for years, dashedforward. He had covered thirty feet when he heard a voice almost in hisear. "Faster, old man."

  Nelson increased. "Faster, boy, I'm passing you." The words were spokenquietly, calmly. A rage filled Nelson. He let every ounce of hisstrength into his limbs and skimmed the canvas. Half a lap. Hugo ran athis side and Nelson could not lead him. The remaining half was not arace. Hugo finished thirty feet in the lead.

  Woodman, standing on the floor, wiped his forehead and bawled: "That thebest you can do, Nellie?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "What in hell have you been doing to yourself?"

  Nelson drew a sobbing breath. "I--haven't--done--a thing. Time--thatman. He's--faster than the intercollegiate mark."

  Woodman, still dubious, made Hugo run against time. And Hugo, eager tomake an impression and unguided by a human runner, broke the world'srecord for the distance around the track by a second and three-fifths.The watch in Woodman's hands trembled.

  "Hey!" he said, uncertain of his voice, "come down here, will you?"

  Hugo descended the spiral iron staircase. He was breathing with ease.Woodman stared at him. "Lessee you jump."

  Hugo
was familiar with the distances for jumping made in track meets. Hewas careful not to overdo his effort. His running jump was twenty-eightfeet, and his standing jump was eleven feet and some inches. Woodman'sface ran water. His eyes gleamed. "Danner," he said, "where did you getthat way?"

  "What way?"

  "I mean--what have you done all your life?"

  "Nothing. Gone to school."

  "Two hundred and eleven pounds," Woodman muttered, "run like an Olympicchamp--jump like a kangaroo--how's your kicking?"

  "All right, I guess."

  "Passing?"

  "All right, I guess."

  "Come on outside. Hey, Fitz! Bring a ball."

  An hour later Fitzsimmons found Woodman sitting in his office. Besidehim was a bottle of whisky which he kept to revive wounded gladiators."Fitz," said Woodman, looking at the trainer with dazed eyes, "did yousee what I saw?"

  "Yes, I did, Woodie."

  "Tell me about it."

  Fitzsimmons scratched his greying head. "Well, Woodie, I seen a youngman--"

  "Saw, Fitz."

  "I saw a young man come into the gym an' undress. He looked like anoiled steam engine. I saw him go and knock hell out of three trackrecords without even losing his breath. Then I seen him go out on thefield an' kick a football from one end to the other an' pass it back.That's what _I_ seen."

  Woodman nodded his head. "So did I. But I don't believe it, do you?"

  "I do. That's the man you--an' all the other coaches--have been wantin'to see. The perfect athlete. Better in everything than the best man atany one thing. Just a freak, Woodie--but, God Almighty, how New Havenan' Colgate are goin' to feel it these next years!"

  "Mebbe he's dumb, Fitz."

  "Mebbe. Mebbe not."

  "Find out."

  Fitz wasted no time. He telephoned to the registrar's office. "Mr. H.Danner," said the voice of a secretary, "passed his examinations withthe highest honours and was admitted among the first ten."

  "He passed his entrance exams among the first ten," Fitzsimmonsrepeated.

  "God!" said Woodman, "it's the millennium!" And he took a drink.

  * * * * *

  Late in the afternoon of that day Hugo found his room in ThompsonDormitory. He unpacked his carpet-bag and his straw suitcase. He checkedin his mind the things that he had done. It seemed a great deal for oneday--a complete alteration of his life. He had seen the dean andarranged his classes: trigonometry, English, French, Latin, biology,physics, economics, hygiene. With a pencil and a ruler he made aschedule, which he pinned on the second-hand desk he had bought.

  Then he checked his furniture: a desk, two chairs, a bed, bed-clothes, arug, sheets and blankets, towels. He hung his clothes in the closet. Fora while he looked at them attentively. They were not like the clothes ofthe other students. He could not quite perceive the difference, but hefelt it, and it made him uncomfortable. The room to which he had beenassigned was pleasant. It looked over the rolling campus on two sides,and both windows were framed in the leaves of nodding ivy.

  It was growing dark. From a dormitory near by came the music of a banjo.Presently the player sang and other voices joined with him. A warm andgolden sun touched the high clouds with lingering fire. Voices criedout, young and vigorous. Hugo sighed. He was going to be happy atWebster. His greatness was going to be born here.

  At that time Woodman called informally on Chuck and Lefty. They were ina heated argument over the decorative arrangement of various liquorbottles when he knocked. "Come in!" they shouted in unison.

  "Hello!"

  "Oh, Woodie. Come in. Sit down. Want a drink--you're not in training?"

  "No, thanks. Had one. And it would be a damn sight better if you birdsdidn't keep the stuff around."

  "It's Chuck's." Lefty grinned.

  "All right. I came to see about that bird you brought to me--Danner."

  "Was he any good?"

  Woodman hesitated. "Fellows, if I told you how good he was, you wouldn'tbelieve me. He's so good--I'm scared of him."

  "Whaddaya mean?"

  "Just that. He gave Nellie thirty feet in a lap on the track."

  "Great God!"

  "He jumped twenty-eight and eleven feet--running and standing. He kickedhalf a dozen punts for eighty and ninety yards and he passed the samedistance."

  Lefty sat down on the window seat. His voice was hoarse. "That--can't bedone, Woodie."

  "I know it. But he did it. But that isn't what makes me frightened. Howmuch do you think he weighs?"

  "One fifty-five--or thereabouts."

  Woodie shook his head. "No, Lefty, he weighs two hundred and eleven."

  "Two eleven! He can't, Woodie. There's something wrong with yourscales."

  "Not a thing."

  The two students stared at each other and then at the coach. They wereable to grasp the facts intellectually, but they could not penetrate thereactions of their emotions. At last Lefty said: "But thatisn't--well--it isn't human, Woodie."

  "That's why I'm scared. Something has happened to this bird. He has adisease of some kind--that has toughened him. Like Pott's disease, thatturns you to stone. But you wouldn't think it. There's not a trace ofanything on the surface. I'm having a blood test made soon. Wait tillto-morrow when you see him in action. It'll terrify you. Because you'llhave the same damned weird feeling I have--that he isn't doing one tenthof what he can do--that he's really just playing with us all. By God, ifI was a bit superstitious, I'd throw up my job and get as much distancebetween me and that bird as I could. I'm telling you simply to prepareyou. There's something mighty funny about him, and the sooner we findout, the better."

  Mr. Woodman left the dormitory. Lefty and Chuck stared at each other forthe space of a minute, and then, with one accord, they went together tothe registrar's office. There they found Hugo's address on the campus,and in a few minutes they were at his door.

  "Come in," Hugo said. He smiled when he saw Lefty and Chuck. "Want somemore trunks moved?"

  "Maybe--later." They sat down, eying Hugo speculatively. Lefty acted asspokesman. "Listen here, guy, we've just seen Woodie and he says you'rephenomenal--so much so that it isn't right."

  Hugo reddened. He had feared that his exhibition was exaggerated by hiseagerness to impress the coach. He said nothing and Lefty continued:"You're going to be here for four years and you're going to love thisplace. You're going to be willing to die for it. All the rest of yourlife the fact that you went to old Webster is going to make adifference. But there's one thing that Webster insists on--and that'sfair play. And honesty--and courage. You've come from a little town inthe West and you're a stranger here. Understand, this is all in a spiritof friendship. So far--we like you. We want you to be one of us. Tobelong. You have a lot to learn and a long way to go. I'm being frankbecause I want to like you. For instance, Chuck here is a millionaire.My old man is no dead stick in the Blue Book. Things like that will bedifferent from what you've known before. But the important thing is tobe a square shooter. Don't be angry. Do you understand?"

  Hugo walked to the window and looked out into the thickened gloom. Hehad caught the worry, the repression, in Lefty's voice. The youth, hismerry blue eyes suddenly grave, his poised self abnormally disturbed,had suggested a criticism of some sort. What was it? Hugo was hurt and alittle frightened. Would his college life be a repetition of IndianCreek? Would the athletes and the others in college of his own age fearand detest him--because he was superior? Was that what they meant? Hedid not know. He was loath to offend Lefty and Chuck. But there seemedno alternative to the risk. No one had talked to him in that way for along time. He sat on his bed. "Fellows," he said tersely, "I don't thinkI know what you're driving at. Will you tell me?"

  The roommates fidgeted. They did not know exactly, either. They had cometo fathom the abnormality in Hugo. Chuck lit a cigarette. Lefty smiledwith an assumed ease. "Why--nothing, Danner. You see--well--I'mquarterback of the football team. And you'll probably be on it thisyear--we haven't
adopted the new idea of keeping freshmen off thevarsity. Just wanted to tell you those--well--those principles."

  Hugo knew he had not been answered. He felt, too, that he would never inhis life give away his secret. The defences surrounding it had been tooimmutably fixed. His joy at knowing that he had been accepted so soon asa logical candidate for the football team was tempered by thisquestioning. "I have principles, fellows."

  "Good." Lefty rose. "Guess we'll be going. By the way, Woodie said yousmashed a couple of track records to-day. Where'd you learn?"

  "Nowhere."

  "How come, then?"

  "Just--natural."

  Lefty summoned his will. "Sure it isn't--well--unhealthy. Woodie saysthere are a couple of diseases that make you--well--get tough--likestone."

  Hugo realized the purpose of the visit. "Then--be sure I haven't anydiseases. My father had an M.D." He smiled awkwardly. "Ever since I wasa kid, I've been stronger than most people. And I probably have a littleedge still. Just an accident, that's all. Is that what you werewondering about?"

  Lefty smiled with instant relief. "Yes, it is. And I'm glad you take itthat way. Listen--why don't you come over to the Inn and take dinnerwith Chuck and me? Let commons go for to-night. What say?"

  * * * * *

  At eleven Hugo wound his alarm clock and set it for seven. He yawnedand smiled. All during supper he had listened to the glories of Websterand the advantages of belonging to the Psi Delta fraternity, todescriptions of parties and to episodes with girls. Lefty and Chuck hadembraced him in their circle. They had made suggestions about what heshould wear and whom he should know; they had posted him on thebehaviour best suited for each of his professors. They liked him and heliked them, immensely. They were the finest fellows in the world.Webster was a magnificent university. And he was going to be one of itsmost glorious sons.

  He undressed and went to bed. In a moment he slept, drawing in deep,swift breaths. His face was smiling and his arm was extended, whether toward off shadows or to embrace a new treasure could not be told. In thebright sunshine of morning his alarm jangled and he woke to begin hiscareer as an undergraduate.