Chapter VII
Knighted
The day after the funeral of Bill Daly, Frank was on his way down toschool when he met Dick and Ned.
"I say, Frank," began Dick, "don't you think you better do somethingabout that Club row?"
"There's nothing to be done, as far as I can see, Dick."
"That's because you're not hearing what we hear. But it won't be longbefore you get it, too. It's just got to us, because they know we'refriends of yours."
"Well, in the name of Sam Hill, what is it you hear?" asked Frank.
"Want it straight?" asked Ned. "The word's round that the Club is goingto be disbanded, and that you're the cause of it. I almost got into afight with the first guy that told me."
"Yes," added Dick, "and they say that the best fellows are getting outon account of you."
"Where did you get that?" asked Frank.
"Some one saw three or four of the fellows' mothers coming from therectory the last few days, and one of them asked Joe Rooney if hismother was going to let him stay in the Club. You know Joe's fatherkeeps a store on 42nd Street and is somebody. Well, Joe is true blueeven if he is a dude, and he said, 'Why shouldn't I stay in the Club?'She said, 'Oh, I thought all the decent boys had left. I can't have myboy ever put his foot in that place again, with that pack of rowdies.'"
This was news for Frank, but to their surprise he showed little concern.
"Don't you see, Hank," said Dick, "that you are getting in bad. If a lotof mud is thrown, some will stick. It's easy to give a fellow a badname, but it's hard to get rid of it. Why don't you do something? I amsure Father Boone also will get a lot of annoyance from it, unless youclear yourself."
But Frank did not seem to mind. It was so unlike him that Ned said, "Ifwe didn't know you so well, Frank, we'd think you were mixed up in itourselves."
"Yes," declared Dick, "to one on the outside it looks bad for you. ThatDunn kid told everybody that you were over to see his father and thensomeone else blabbed what happened in the Club, that you owned up toknowing all about it. Putting two and two together, they have built upan ugly story, and it's spread like fire."
"That's all right, fellows," replied Frank nonchalantly, as they partedat the school. But just the same Frank was doing a lot of thinking."Suppose the decent fellows should leave the Club! Suppose it got arowdy name!
"But," he went on, "Father Boone knows how things are, and he'llstraighten them out. But can he? What he knows, he does not know, forall intents and purposes. He can't use what he got in confession, andthat's all he got. He may know that I am right. That settles something.But how about my mother, and the others?"
These reflections came to Frank as he was going upstairs to his classroom. It was a relief to know that his teacher had some confidence inhim. Some of the boys gave him sly looks and one or two madeinsinuations. At recess, however, he met his real ordeal. First one,then two, and at length a dozen or more had gathered around him.
"Well, fellows, you are getting a good show, I hope," laughed Frank,with a forced grin. As they kept on staring he added, in a tone tryingto be pleasant, "Movies free today."
Outside the circle someone called, "What's up over there?"
The reply cut him through and through. "That's the goody-good kid thatgot caught in the roughneck stuff over at the Club."
If a thrust were made designedly in order to inflict exquisite pain, itcould not have served the purpose better. Frank moved off with hot ironin his very flesh. He knew that the last word in contempt among boys wasthat same "goody-good." It implied everything that he detested. With theboys it meant a girlish goodness, a sort of "softy." That hurt him. Ofcourse, in a school where there were nearly a thousand boys, he wasknown only to his own set. He was not thinking of them, but of the greatcrowd who knew him but slightly, and who would credit what they heard.And out over the whole yard had rung those words, "goody-good!" And onthe top of that, to be called a "roughneck!"
In class the next hour, the recess and its every incident occupiedFrank's whole mind. Every word and look was rehearsed over and overagain. He was called on for recitation, but his name had to be repeatedbefore he responded. When he did reply, he appeared like one just out ofa trance. The hour of class seemed very long.
At noon, he delayed going out in order not to face the crowd. When hethought that most of the boys had gone, he went out into the street. Hisface was burning. He fancied everyone he met was looking at him. Hecould almost hear passersby say "goody-good" and "roughneck."
If Frank had been "just any boy," the experience of the recess hourwould not have caused him such exquisite anguish. But a boy of highhonor resents with all his soul the insinuation that he appears onething, while in reality he is another. "But why," he reflected, almostaloud, "why should I carry a load that is not mine? I did not ask Daly'sconfidence. Why should I suffer for it?" He knew the answer, at once.Honor demanded it, and honor's price at times comes high. That is whatmakes its value. But the thing kept coming back. It would not let himalone. When apparently settled, it came again in a new form.
"Daly is gone," he reflected. "He hasn't got to face a crowd and beartheir jeers and insults. I kept this secret as long as it could possiblyhurt him any. Now, what's the harm in clearing myself?"
This thought clung to him like a wet garment. It looked right, but hisfine sense of honor detected the wrong that lurked in it.
"Yes," he said, "Daly is gone, but his father and mother are here. Whata blow it would be to them!"
But back again came the temptation, were his own father and mother notto be considered also? Did he not owe more to them than to Bill Daly'sparents? And so he went on, balancing duty with duty. Yes, it certainlywas right for him to clear himself. This conclusion, however, did notsatisfy him either.
"Two things are against it," he mused. "First, any crook can accuse thesilent dead. I am free of guilt, but I must not establish my innocenceby making the dead guilty. Moreover, who would believe me? They'd allsay that a fellow mean enough to wreck a club room, would be mean enoughto lie. It wouldn't do me any good to speak out.
"And then--Bill Daly's death made a profound impression on everybody.Father Boone's sermon at the funeral was as good as a mission. All thatwould be undone if I let out on Daly. I can live this thing down, hecan't. Should I, even because of the pain of this thing to myself and myfather and mother, break up all that? No. Not even if I was sure itwould help my case. I know I am right with God. That counts most. If Iam doing something for Him, I must do it right. No whining, norcomplaining, nor getting amazed that I am ill-treated. All that goeswith the sacrifice."
He entered the church and went to the altar of the Sacred Heart. "O myGod, for the love of Thee, I do this. I offer Thee a bleeding heart. Itcosts me much, but I am glad to give Thee what does cost so much. And,my dear Lord, grant me the grace to give cheerfully what I give. Amen."
He arose and went out, strong and buoyant, like the martyrs who went tothe lions rejoicing. "A soldier fights for the flag," he thought, "anddoes so with enthusiasm, although he may meet with wounds, capture anddeath. I must fight under the standard of the Cross, and be a bravesoldier of Christ, a Knight of the Cross."
There was no school that afternoon and so he took his time getting home.On his way, he was met by Mrs. Joyce, mother of one of the Club members.
"Aren't you that Mulvy boy?" she asked.
"Yes, Mrs. Joyce," he replied.
"I thought so," she continued. "Well, you've been found out at last."
That was all. It was a terrible lot for Frank's sensitive soul, but hesaid in his heart, "For Thee, Jesus," and went bravely on. At home, anew trial was awaiting him. His mother had been stopped on the streetseveral times this morning, and had received very pointed inquiriesabout her boy. The last woman who addressed her had virtually insultedher.
"Well, Mrs. Mulvy, it's too bad. Who would have thought that your boy,Frank, would turn out so bad!"
Mrs. Mulvy had to make an effort to smile and
not reply. But when shegot home, she found that she had bit her lips even to blood.
When Frank came in, doubly dear to her now, she almost lost control ofherself. She sank with a groan into the large arm chair. Frank was ather side in a second, smothering her with kisses, and breathing outterms of endearment to her. In a moment, she was herself again.
"Excuse me, Frank," she said, "I was all undone. But tell mother, dear,what in the world have you done?"
Frank was brave for himself. But where his mother was concerned, it wasdifferent. He knew now that what he had promised at the altar was goingto cost him much dearer even than he had calculated. He was stronglytempted to make an exception in his mother's case, and to tell her all.But he remembered his promise at the altar and how Bill himself hadsaid, "There's no going back on a promise to Him."
"A soldier does not quit when he gets a blow, neither will I," hereflected. "This blow is worse because it strikes me through my mother,but I will trust God, and do what I have promised Him. Moreover, ifmother could not trust me now, when I tell her I am blameless, would itdo any good to tell her the dime-novel truth of the matter?"
Looking deep into her eyes, he said, "Mother, you never knew me todeceive you. You must trust me now more than ever. But I will tell youmore than I shall say to any other human being. Mother, there is amistake. Everything points to me, I know. I'm under this cloud because Iwould not be untrue to a confidence. I've just left the church, where Ipromised God to carry this cross for Him. I was thinking of you when Imade that offering. Now, Mother, won't you be good and not worry anymore?"
For an answer she embraced him, and taking him by the hand, she led theway to the little oratory. They knelt down before the Sacred Heart, andstill holding his hand in hers, she said, "Dear Sacred Heart, I add myoffering to my boy's. Do thou keep him ever in Thy love and Thy Grace.Amen."
"It's all right now, mother. The cross has lost its weight."
"Yes, dear," she answered, "we won't mind anything now. I'll tell yourfather that I know things are all right, so he won't be embarrassed byany gossip he hears."
"Mother, I'd rather you wouldn't say anything to father. He has enoughto worry him without our cares."
"Yes, dear, things don't always run smoothly with him, yet he spares ushis worries. I'll do as you say, unless something makes me see it's bestto tell him."
(II)
After lunch, Frank went out to the football field. There was to be heavypractice that afternoon for the big game of the year. On his way, he metDick and Ned, headed in the same direction.
"O Frank," exclaimed Ned, "you're being terribly 'roasted' all over theparish. Somehow the thing is getting bigger and bigger, and you're madeout worse and worse."
"Can't help people talking, son," was Frank's reply.
"I know, Hank, but it's something awful. Why don't you do something?"
"I'm open to suggestions, wise one. What do you advise me to do?"
"Why, deny it!"
"I have."
"Well, tell them that you can prove you didn't do it. Show 'em that youwere not around there when it happened."
"That's just it. Who knows when it happened?"
"Well, isn't there anything you can do? It's fierce to get the repyou're getting."
"Search me, kid. I don't know anything more that I can do."
As they approached the field, they found most of the players already onhand, in their uniforms. Subs were beginning to line up against theregulars, for the practice, but Frank noticed at a glance that JohnDerby, of the second team, was in a regular uniform.
"Oho," he thought, "that looks strange. And that uniform lookssuspiciously like mine!" His heart sank.
Of all things that Frank liked, football came first. In the last game,with Grayson High, his playing had certainly counted big in winning thegame for Regal. He was the only boy from his year on the team but no onecould run and dodge as fast. His grit helped, too, for he would fighton, no matter how rough he was handled. In the early fall, he had beencarried off the field protesting, although he was terribly bruised.Considering all this, it seemed impossible that Derby had been promotedto his uniform on the eve of their biggest game. Tomorrow they were toplay Stanley High for the Interscholastic championship.
However, he hurried, with as much coolness as possible, to the dressingroom. He found his locker empty. Standing nearby was the captain of theteam, Robert Fitzpatrick.
"What does this mean, Bob?" said Frank, quietly.
"Didn't they tell you, Mulvy?"
"Tell me what?"
"That you're off."
"Why, no. This is the first notion I've had of it. I came out forpractice."
"Well, I'd rather someone else told you, Mulvy. I just want to say wehad a hot row over you. I stood up for you, but four of the players saidthey'd resign unless you were dropped. So I had to give in, or 'bust'the team."
"What's the charge against me, Bob?"
"Don't you know?"
"No, I don't."
"Well, you ought to."
"I know the report that's around," said Frank, "but you fellowscertainly don't want to go on record for condemning a man before he'sheard?"
"Why, they said you admitted it."
"That's not so. I said I knew about it. I did not need to say that. Ihad my knowledge as a confidence, and I could have denied all knowledgeof it. But because I had the spunk to speak out as I did, you fellowsbrand me. It's all right. I'll take my medicine."
"It wasn't easy for us to drop you, Mulvy. Tomorrow is the big game, andwe need our best team. I put that before them strong. But I wasout-voted."
"Well, Bob, I want to thank you for what you did. But tell me one thing.You know how the fellows move heaven and earth to get a strong team. Youknow how, when a fellow got into a scrape, or was behind in studies, oreven if he was bounced, all the others stood by him and fought to retainhim. Now, I know I'm a boob, but nevertheless, I know my worth to theteam, and so do you. Tell me, then, why this action in my regard?"
"Well, I'll be frank with you, Mulvy. They look upon this matterdifferently. From all accounts, it was a thug affair, and it's gottenall over the parish. The fellows won't stand for it, not even if ithurts our chances for tomorrow's game."
"Thank you, Bob, for being so frank. Now, another question. It's mylast, don't be afraid to be candid. Do you think the same as theothers?" For a moment there was no reply.
"O, excuse me," said Frank, "I did not mean to embarrass you. Pleasedon't answer."
Turning, he saw five or six of the team standing about. They had allheard the conversation. Not one had come forward to befriend him.
"It's all right, fellows, I have no kick. I'm in bad. But I hope you'llfind out some day that I'm misrepresented."
So saying, he walked away, down-hearted, but full of exultation. He waspaying a high price for that offering to the Sacred Heart. It hurt. Buthe was glad that he was doing something worth while for God.
He left the field. He could not bear to stay and look on. He had notgone far when Dick and Ned overtook him. "Say, fellows, don't mind me,"he said to them. "Go back and take in the sport."
"Not without you," said Dick.
At the same time, Ned put his hand in his, but said nothing.
Frank's eyes filled. Here was trust. Here was devotion. They walkedalong for five minutes, not a word being spoken. Rather, many words wereuttered, but they were the silent language of the heart.
"I think I'll see Father Boone," Frank said eventually. "I want to gethis advice on something. Good-bye fellows. I'll never forget how trueyou were to me." And he headed off in the direction of the Club, hopingto find the priest in his office there.
(III)
Father Boone was in and he was very serious, as it was easy to see fromhis face and manner. For he had just heard how his boy, Frank, was beingtreated.
"Of course," he meditated, "my lips are sealed. All that I know isconfessional. But I must think out some way of coming to Frank's rescue.What
a chivalrous lad he is! What a fine sense of honor! He'll see itthrough, no matter what the cost. I trust that most of my boys wouldsuffer anything rather than lie or do wrong. But this is heroic. Itshows fine mettle. His religion is his strength.
"But can I allow him to be a victim of injustice? Daly knew the secrecyof the confessional but, at the same time, I told him that I could notgive him absolution unless he repaired the wrong he did, as far as layin his power. The only thing in his power then, was to give mepermission to use what he told me. I told him plainly that someone elsewas under suspicion of the deed. I pointed out that in case that onewere in danger of incurring the guilt and punishment, it was a matter ofjustice on his part to assume the responsibility of the act.
"Of course he gave me the authorization to declare that he and he alonewas the author of the damage. He even begged me to do it, for his peaceof soul and as penance for his sins. He showed he had the rightdisposition for absolution. But it's not all right for me. He was tooweak to sign a paper and if I were to use the knowledge I have, whatwould prevent people from saying that I was violating the sacred seal?My word alone could be questioned by anyone. A slur on the confessionalwould result, and untold harm would be done.
"But here I am discussing the matter, as though it were open todiscussion. No, I was just ruminating. My lips are sealed forever."
Just then there was a rap at the door, and in came Frank. The priestarising said, "God bless you, Frank." They stood and looked at eachother for a moment. Father Boone extended his hand. Frank clasped it.They understood.
Then Frank unburdened himself to the priest. He told him all the snubshe got, and finally came to the football matter.
"That got me. You see, Father, they are a square set of fellows. To takesuch action right before the big game means that they have me down bad.I don't blame them. I told them I had no kick. But, gee whiz, it hurts!"
"Of course it hurts, boy, but don't you suppose it hurts when a soldiergoes over the top and gets a bayonet in his breast? Or when he getsgassed, or bombed? Perhaps you think it's fun for an aviator to see hismachine crippled four thousand feet above ground and to know he isdashing to death? They do all that for flag, for country, for glory. Weought to do our bit for God and our country above."
"Father, you've got a way of explaining everything. I think if I had youaround, I could go through life as if it were a picnic."
"It's not much of a picnic, son; and I could tell you some things worsethan going over the top."
"For instance?" suggested Frank.
"Well, wouldn't you like to know now, Frankie boy? But you won't. No, itis enough that God sees and knows. He who has Him for witness hasenough."
"But what do you advise me to do about this football business, Father?"
"There's nothing to advise. All I can say is 'watchful waiting.' But Ican tell you this. I have never yet known that a fellow who does what isright, loses out. He may appear for a time to have the worst of it, andhe may suffer a lot, but if he does what is right to the end, he comesout on top. The trouble is that most people are willing to do right fora limited period, and then they give way. That always loses. If God isto be trusted, it is not for a day or a week, but always. I don't meanto say that every good man has been justified before men, but this I dosay, that no good man has ever regretted his trust in God, nor the pricehe paid for it."
"I feel now that I can stand anything, Father."
"That's the way to talk. Just act the same way."
Frank went into the reading room and glanced over the magazines. He tookdown some books and looked them over. The Club rooms were practicallyempty and his mind was not on his reading. It was the matter of footballpractice and how the new player would do that chiefly recurred to him.After about an hour and a half, as it was getting dark, he put away hisbook and started for home.
At Gody's corner, there was usually a crowd of the Regal boys at thishour, and Frank hesitated whether he would pass along that way or goaround the block. He had had enough troubles for one day, and did notcourt any more. To pass that crowd would mean trouble of some sort, hewas afraid. But suddenly he wheeled around. "I'll go the way I would incase nothing was up. If I once give in to this thing, it will be myfinish."
He accordingly walked towards the crowd. As they saw him coming, hecaught their looks and nods in his direction. When he got alongside ofthem, George Mooney, an upper class boy, said sneeringly, "Why weren'tyou out to the practice, Mulvy?"
Frank took all the wind out of his sails by answering, "I was out there,but they fired me. They had no room on the team for a thug, they toldme."
"Some sand, kid," said Fred Gaffney. "You don't look like a fellow who'ddo a dirty trick."
"He has already done it, there's no question of what he would do,"retorted Mooney.
"Come here, kid," said Gaffney. "I'm going to believe just what you say.Did you have anything to do with that damage over there?"
In a clear, straightforward manner, Frank said, "No." And he lookedGaffney right in the eye.
Gaffney, who was the biggest fellow in the crowd, turned to the othersand said, "Fellows, I'm not looking for a fight, nor am I going to runaway from one. I'm going to stand by this kid. Not that I think heneeds anyone to brace him up. He is well able to take care of himself.But I'm going to stand by him because I think fair play demands it.What's got into you fellows. Doesn't a chap's record count for anything?Hasn't Mulvy's record always been good? If a fellow is white all along,is he going to turn yellow over night? Put on your thinking caps."
Frank's eyes were riveted on him, and they were moist. Gaffney saw it."Put out your hand, kid. You're good enough for me," he said.
"And for me." "And for me," others echoed, for Gaffney was a leader.
"I thank you, fellows, and you particularly, Gaffney," said Frank, as hemoved along. His steps seemed lighter. Gaffney, a real leader as well ascheer leader for the games, believed in him. Perhaps the thing wouldblow over. Some others might put on their thinking caps also. He hopedso.
When he got near his own street, he ran into Dick, who had just met someof the fellows who had been at the practice.
"I say, Hank," he began, "they had hot work up at the field. Bullypractice. The new guy is going fine, they say."
"Were you up?"
"No, but I got it from Fitzpatrick and Redmond, who were there all theafternoon."
"I don't see how he could jump in on such short notice, and fill theplace. But if he does, so much the better."
"Will you be out at the game tomorrow?" asked Dick.
"No, I don't see how I could stand it," replied Frank.
(IV)
It broke clear and bracing next morning. It was football weather made toorder. Everybody was discussing the game. Stanley High and Regal hadeven scores for the season. They were tied for the championship, andthis game was to decide it. In the morning, the boys got together at theschool to rehearse their cheers and songs. Gaffney was cheer leader. Bythe time they had finished they were worked up to a high pitch ofexcitement.
Louis Holten walked up to Gaffney at the close and said, "We've got 'emlicked, surely, Gaff."
"Not so fast, boy. Stanley has something to say about that."
"Yep, Stanley's record is first class all right, but you should haveseen our bunch at it yesterday. Nothing can stop them!"
"I hope so, Holten, but I'd feel better if Mulvy were on the job."
"Mulvy! Why the fellow that takes his place has him beaten a mile.Besides, the fellows wouldn't play with that thug on the team."
"I wish there were more thugs like him, old man, that's my 'think.' Andbesides it's a big mistake to put a new man in at the last moment."
"Not if he's as good as this new man."
"O, I saw him yesterday, and I tell you Louie, Mulvy entirely outclasseshim. Derby is big and strong, but Mulvy has head and grit. And that'swhat counts."
"Well, we'll see, old chap; we'll be there with the yells."
"So long, Louie!
"
"So long, Gaff!"
The crowd began to arrive at the field at one o'clock. The game wasscheduled for 2:30. It was to be in four periods of fifteen minuteseach. There was to be an interval of one minute between the quarters andof twenty minutes between the halves. As many visitors were expected,some of whom would not know much about the teams or the game, the namesof the teams and players were posted on a large board at one side of thefield. Under the names were placed the scoring points, so that thoseunacquainted with the game would not have to show their ignorance.
"Touchdown 6 points Goal from touchdown 1 point Goal from field 3 points Safety 2 points"
The connoisseurs of the game explained to the uninitiated just what a"touchdown" was, and a "goal from the field." It was harder to makeclear what a "safety" meant. The general description seemed to be thatit was when a player was caught with the ball behind his own goal.
The crowd kept coming in faster and faster as the hour approached. Bytwo o'clock every bit of desirable space was occupied. The field wasmarked off with new lines which shone clear and bright. Stanley wasgrouped on the right, Regal on the left, the side nearest the entrance.Automobiles fringed the outer crowd. All was expectancy.
Inside, the two teams were straining at the leash. The coaches haddifficulty holding their men quiet.
"Don't waste your strength walking about and fretting," yelled Regal'scoach. "You'll need all you've got out there." But the boys could notrest. They champed like horses at the post.
The cheers from outside came sailing in. That only increased theirnervousness. A few minutes before time to go out, they almost needed tobe tied. Every boy was chewing gum, or biting his nails, or kickingsomething. Finally the coach signalled attention.
"Now boys, go at them hard. This is no tea party. Scare them from thestart. It's grit that wins. No quitter, no quarter. You're off."
With a yell, they bounded out of the dressing room and on to the field.They came out on a trot, looking steady and confident. They were greetedwith "Regal, Regal! Rah, Rah, Regal," from thousands of throats. "Givethem another," yelled Gaffney. "Regal, Regal! Rah, Rah, Re--gal" soaredacross the field.
An instant later, Stanley came out. They got their welcome, "Stanley,Rah! Stanley, Rah!... Rah! Rah! Stanley!"
The spectators were about equally divided. Both sides were on fire withenthusiasm. Those who knew the players pointed them out to those who didnot. The strong and weak points of the respective teams were adverted toand discussed.
Below, on the gridiron, the players were limbering up. Some tossed theball around, others made short sprints, while a few kicked the pig-skin,not far but accurately. The warning whistle sounded. Off came the heavysweaters. Both sides ranged up in battle formation. The ball waspropelled by a mighty kick far into Stanley's territory, and the fightwas on.
The battle surged to and fro. Neither side showed any distinctsuperiority over the other. The ball was pushed now down to Stanley'sgoal, now down to Regal's. Either side, held for downs within theshadows of its own goal posts, invariably punted the ball back intohostile territory. Time and again an onward march was stopped by cleverwork and the ball changed hands. The game went on in this way for aboutten minutes.
Suddenly from scrimmage, the ball was passed to Mulvy's substitute for arun forward. The chance was good for a score. A little clever dodginghere and there would mean a touchdown and six points for Regal. Thespectators rose to their feet, they stood on tip toe, they craned theirnecks to see the first score. All of a sudden, when within fifteen feetof goal, the runner was tackled, toppled, and the ball rolled intoStanley's possession. A groan came from Regal as Stanley picked up theball, and carried it down the field, whence it was gradually worked overthe line for a touchdown. They failed, however, to kick goal, and thescore stood 6 to 0 in favor of Stanley.
No time was lost in renewing the battle, and soon it was on as fiercelyas before. The Regal's coach was storming and stamping.
"I told them not to drop Mulvy," he bawled. "This is no dude's game.That sub has got no grit. Look at him now! He's got cold feet, he isonly half playing. Here, Green, tighten up your belt. I'm going to putyou in the next quarter."
The cheer leader was frantically appealing for encouragement from hisyelling hordes. They gave cheer after cheer, louder and longer. Theencouragement was telling. Again Regal pushed the ball up the field.Again, a fine opening presented itself and Derby got the ball, and agood open track to the enemy goal. Deafening cheers gave him wings.Again a hostile player crossed his path and brought him down like a bagof oats. A hiss resounded over the field. The coach could hardly waitfor the quarter to be up. Gaffney ran over from his cheering place tothe bench, and whispered to him.
"I know it," growled the coach, "I told the bunch after yesterday'spractice. He looked good to them, but I knew he wouldn't do. We'representing the game to Stanley. It's theirs without half trying. I'llput Green in the next quarter."
"Green is not your man either. There's just one way to save this game,and that's to get Mulvy."
"Is he here?" fairly yelled the coach.
"No, but there are lots of machines. We could run up to his place infive minutes. He could dress in the car and be here for the next half."
"It's no use, Gaff. He wouldn't come. Don't talk to me. I know boys.After the deal he got yesterday, you couldn't get him here for a milliondollars."
"I guess you're right, old man," assented Gaffney.
The first quarter was up with the ball close to Regal's line. Thewhistle saved further scoring. During the minute's rest it was clearthat the Regal team were not dejected, but desperate. For a few secondsthey simply looked at one another. The sub handicap was simply too muchfor them. They knew it was their own doing, and against the coach'sadvice.
"Here, Green, get in there now, and show the crowd that at least onefellow has grit."
The whistle sounded, the line-up was formed, and again the battle wason. They certainly played football. But they were up against a crowd whoalso played. The attack and defense continued as before. If Regal couldnot gain a point, neither could Stanley. On three or four occasionsRegal might have scored, with Mulvy playing. They were afraid to riskanything with Green. They played safe. But that never wins. It may stopthe enemy, but it will not bring victory. If the enemy could hold whatit had, the game was lost to Regal. The coach saw this. He also saw thesolution.
"O, if I only had Mulvy," he roared. He stormed and stamped and said alot beside his prayers. Gaffney was working like a Trojan. But it was nouse. The battle was see-saw. Now Regal, now Stanley. Neither could breakthrough. Again Gaffney came up to the coach. He was exhausted fromcheering and from swinging his arms.
"I say, boss, it's all over, unless we get Mulvy."
"Don't talk to me or I'll eat you," snapped the coach. "What's the useof saying Mulvy when we haven't got Mulvy, and can't get him."
"Will you put him in if I get him?"
Just then a yell went up from the Stanley side. A long run brought theball to within a few feet of Regal's goal, and a score looked certain.The coach was a sight. The veins in his forehead stood out. His eyeswere bulging. All of a sudden, the Stanley player dropped the ball, andthe Regal captain seized it. That saved that situation. The coachrelaxed, but still looked like a house on fire.
Again Gaffney said, "If I get Mulvy will you put him in?"
"Ask me a foolish question, will you? Put him in! I'll shove him in, andpoke him down the throats of that gang of quitters out there."
Gaffney went over to his crowd. "We've got to get Mulvy here, fellows,"he shouted, "Unless we do, it's good night."
"Well, it's good night, then," remarked Tom Ruggeri, one of the upperclass boys. Then he added, "You don't suppose any one would jump intothe game after the dose he got yesterday, do you?"
"Not any one, but some one, and I believe Mulvy is just that some one,"retorted Gaffney.
"Well, go ahead and get him then," was the rejoinder.
"You fellows don't know that boy. You have him down as a thug. I'm goingto show you you're wrong."
He found Dick with Ned and Tommy. "Hey, Dick, you're a friend ofMulvy's. We want you to help us to get him here for the second half.Will you do it?"
"No, I will not," answered Dick. "He has been humiliated enoughalready. To ask him now to play with a crowd that kicked him outyesterday is an insult."
"So, you won't come with me, kid?"
"No."
Gaffney went back to his crowd. "It's all up, I guess. Let's work likeblazes cheering, that may start something."
Regal had the ball, but was pushed back to its own goal. In a mix-up, aRegal player ran back of his own goal line, and was grabbed for a"safety," which added two points to Stanley's score. There was dejectionamong the Regal players and consternation among their supporters.
Only three minutes of play remained before the end of the first half.The teams struggled doggedly. Regal was really playing splendidly, butthe handicap of a sub player was too much. It seemed that Stanley justworked that one weak spot. That was good generalship on their part, butvery trying on Regal. With but one minute more of play, Stanley got theball and ran with it to within seven yards of Regal's goal. They linedup to push it through by sheer force. Regal made stout defense, and heldthe enemy wonderfully. While the goal was still in imminent danger, thewhistle blew, and the first half was over. Score, Stanley 8, Regal 0.
(V)
When Regal got to its quarters off the side line, the coach pitched intohis men. "You bunch of babies, you ought to be playing croquet, notfootball! Where's your 'sand'? Haven't you got any spine?"
He was worked up to a terrible pitch. But it was all lost on the team.They were dazed. They had invited their friends to come out and see themwin. And here they were pushed up and down the field, the score 8 to 0,and likely to be 28 to 0 before the end.
The captain was the first to speak. "If I'd had my way, it would now be8 to 0 in our favor. I told you not to drop Mulvy. I told you not tobelieve that charge against him. But you had your way, and now you seewhat it's done."
"Do you suppose we could get him for the second half, Bob?" asked one ofthe team.
"What, after what we did to him? No."
Here Gaffney stepped up. "I say, fellows, it was a dirty, mean trick theway you fellows turned on Mulvy. Bob is the only fellow that stood outfor him."
"That's right, Gaff."
"Now I tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to show you that you'rewrong on Mulvy. I'm going to get him. I'll go for him myself." He wasoff on the instant.
"If Mulvy comes here after our treatment of him yesterday, I'll take myhat off to him," declared Bob to his dejected team.
"If he comes," declared Bill Cronin, "I'll knock the head off the firstfellow that ever dares hint again that he was in that thug affair."
That meant a good deal, for Cronin was the strongest man on the team.
"I guess we made a mistake, boys," said Joe Dalton. "As I look back now,I never knew Mulvy to be anything but straight."
"We believed that report too readily," observed Fred Donohue. "I'mmighty sorry for my part in it."
And so it went on. It stood out clearly now, that they had little or noground for their action against Mulvy. But all felt that there was noquestion of his coming back.
Out on the field, the Stanley contingent was jubilant. Songs and cheersrocked the stands. The Regal supporters tried to look hopeful, but notwith any great success. There were many inquiries about Mulvy. Some gaveone reason, some another, for his absence. Those in the parish gave theClub story. But the High School drew students from all over town, andthe parish affairs were not known outside. The Stanley players wereasking where Mulvy was, for they knew him and his record. They thoughthe was on the crippled list. Their chief concern was joy over the score,and the prospect of final victory, and the Interscholastic Championship.
Gaffney, meanwhile, had got a closed auto and had put into it a reserveuniform. It seemed the traffic cops took him for an ambulance--for hereached Frank's in five minutes. He rushed upstairs, rang the bell,breathing hard as he waited for the door to open.
Frank was with his mother and Father Boone within. The priest knew thatFrank would feel it keenly that he was ostracized from the team, andbeing sure also that he would not go to the game, he had dropped in,casually, as it were, to see Mrs. Mulvy. Frank was really glad to seehim.
"Do you know, Father," he said, after the casual remarks had all beenmade, "I've been building castles in the air. I was imagining that thegame was hard fought, and that our fellows were getting the worst of it.Then I fancied they wished they had me with them, and that they sent forme. I scorned them and had my revenge!"
"That's quite a romance, Frank," said the priest. "But I guess the boysare winning. You know they said that that sub played splendidlyyesterday."
"I hope they are winning, Father. I was just day-dreaming."
"But, Frank, suppose now that they did actually send for you, would youscorn them; would you refuse to go?"
"Well, Father, except for one thing. In church this morning, I offeredthis injustice to God as a sacrifice. If I should act resentfully, itwould spoil the sacrifice."
"Now, you are talking as a Christian, as a Christian Knight. I'm proudof you. You see, in a case like this, you would not be obliged to goback to them. They ejected you. You are free to go back or not. But togo back, not being obliged to, and to do so for the love of God, isvirtue of a high order."
"You know, Father, Achilles went through something like this, and hescorned the pleading Greeks. But that was before Christ came."
"Precisely. And look at the nuns and priests of France. Banished fromtheir country by an infidel government. Yet, when their country was inneed of them they came back from all quarters of the globe to sufferand, if need be, die for her. That is the effect of Christ in theworld."
"Yes, Father, and do you remember how differently Coriolanus acted? Whenhe was driven out of Rome, although he was naturally a very noble man,he led an army against his countrymen for revenge."
"Why, you are quite a historian and philosopher, Frank."
At this point, the door bell rang and it was followed at once by excitedknocking. Frank ran to the door and Gaffney rushed into the room, allout of breath. Without stopping to see who was there, he poured out hiswords in such haste and with such excitement, that he seemed almostbeside himself.
"Mulvy, we're licked....the game is lost....almost lost....They wantyou....They want you....Mulvy, they want you!"
Frank looked in amazement at Father Boone. The priest was a picture ofastonishment.
"I've got a machine outside ... the uniform in it ... come along ... thesecond half...."
Before he got any further, Frank looked understandingly at Father Boone,jumped to his feet, and was down stairs like a shot. Into the machine herushed, then into the uniform. The car fairly flew along the avenue. Bythe time he had his uniform on and his shoes tied, the car was at thefield. Only two minutes remained before the second half.
Bob saw Gaffney running towards the Regal squad, waving his hands, andshouting, "I've got him, I've got him."
And behind Gaffney, all in playing gear, was Mulvy. Bob let out a yellthat was heard all over the field. Before he had time to tell the causeof his excitement and jubilation, Gaffney and Mulvy were in the midst ofthe squad.
The awkward situation lasted but a second. "You're a brick, Mulvy,"cried Bob, seizing his hand.
The signal rang for the second half. The coach rushed upon him. The boysjumped to their feet and made for the field, full of new life andcourage. Each managed to fling him a greeting that told better thanwords that they knew they had been wrong and that they were sorry forwhat they had done.
"You're all right, old man."
"You're a whole crowd, Mulvy."
"You're a brick!"
Why the expression, "You're a b
rick," carries so much weight with boys,no one can analyze. But among any crowd of real boys, it is the limit ofhero worship.
Frank had nothing to say and no time to say it. His presence there,fresh and eager for the fight, showed that the incident was passed andforgotten. The coach patted him on the back, and whispered, "You've gotto save the day, kid, you can do it." And to them all it was, to comparelittle things with great, what the Yankees meant to Foch.
The squad on the field looked a different aggregation. And it wasdifferent. The wonderful thing "spirit" had permeated them. It echoedin the rousing cheers which the Regal supporters gave them.
"Great Guns!" gasped Dick, just as Gaffney in front of the stand shoutedthrough the megaphone, "A Rah, Rah for Regal." From thousands of throatscame the inspiring, "Regal, Regal! Rah, Rah, Re--gal!"
"Now, fellows, a big Rah Rah for Mulvy!" Most of the spectators hadsupposed that Mulvy was crippled and that he was pressed into service asa last resort. Realizing that an injured gladiator who fights on is ahero, the response that came from the crowd was tremendous.
"Mulvy, Mulvy, Rah, Rah, Mul. . .vy!"
"Give him another," yelled Gaffney.
Again, louder and more intensely, rang out over the field, "Mulvy,Mulvy! Rah, Rah, Mul . . . vy!"
The Stanley crowd shot back their yell, "Stanley, Rah! Stanley, Rah!Rah! Rah! Stan....ley!"
The Stanley squad noticed Mulvy, but most of them thought he wascrippled and would not last long. None guessed the real reason of hisabsence in the first half.
Again the whistle blew, the teams took their formation, and with amighty kick by Stanley the ball was in play. For a few moments there wasno apparent difference in Regal's play. But soon it was noticed thatthey were going like a well-oiled machine. Stanley, too, seemed to beplaying a better game. It was good football all around. They were wellmatched. It was to and fro again, but now there was no looseness onRegal's side. Any gain that was made against them was due to good workby Stanley, not to poor play by Regal.
Frank was playing well to the rear. All of a sudden Stanley got theball, passed it to the fleetest runner, made an opening for him and gavehim a clear field to Regal's line. Only Mulvy stood between him and atouchdown. The runner was tall and fast, fifteen pounds heavier thanFrank, a big margin where a boy is concerned. He came tearing down thefield with the ball. Frank rushed right across his path, stood hisground with a tigerish gleam and posture, and when his man approached,tackled him low, sending him sprawling to earth, the ball rolling awayto one side. The coach leaped into the air, gave the bench a bang withhis hand that drew blood, and exclaimed between his teeth, "Grit."
The Regal crowd fairly went wild. Gaffney swung his arms like a windmill, and worked his megaphone like a factory whistle, but it was alllost. Unmarshalled cheers shook the stand. Yells, shouts, slaps on theback, frenzy. It was Regal's first chance to let loose. The nervoustension was at the breaking point. It needed just this play to act as asafety valve. When Gaffney at last could get a hearing, he yelled--"ARah Rah for Mulvy." With an enthusiasm that inspired the team on thefield, they yelled:
"Mulvy, Mulvy! Rah, Rah, Mul . . . vy!"
"Another," shouted Gaffney.
"Mulvy, Mulvy! Rah, Rah, Mul . . . vy!"
"Now one for Regal, whoop it up, boys."
"Regal, Regal, Rah, Rah, Regal!"
The ball was snapped back to Bob, who gave it a kick that sent it rightover the goal for three points. Again pandemonium. Again cheers. Stanleyfollowers were beginning to get nervous. 8 to 3 was not dangerous, butit was the way Regal was going at it. "What a difference one manmakes," was heard on all sides.
The teams lined up again. Both were playing at top speed. They swayed toand fro. There were no slips, no mistakes. It was give and take, withthe results about even. It kept on that way until the whistle blew andthe third quarter was over.
The Regal crowd occupied the short interval cheering its teamuninterruptedly. Stanley did the same.
The whistle blew again, and the battle was renewed. If Stanley couldhold the score as it was, the victory was hers. Out from her side of thestands came the concerted yell,
"Stanley, hold! Stanley, hold! Stanley, hold!"
And that was their game. They held well. Eight minutes of the quarterhad passed, and it began to look as if nothing could get throughStanley. It looked like her game. Then something happened.
The ball was passed to Mulvy. With the grace and speed of a hound, hemade for the enemy line. Hardly had he started when a big Stanley playergot right in front of him. By clever dodging Frank got by him. He hadjust struck his stride when another opponent dashed across his pathready to spring at him. Frank came on full tilt, and just as a plungewas made for him, he stopped short, turned aside and the tackler wentdigging into the ground.
The crowd was wild now. Only one man stood between Mulvy and atouchdown, and victory. The coach was pulling his hat to pieces. TheRegal followers were frantic with anticipation.
But Stanley's best tackle was waiting for Mulvy. He had seen how theother two were fooled, and was ready for every emergency. He was a cool,active big chap with lots of football instinct. Frank knew him. He hadseen him play often. But on he ran like a deer, his hair blown back bythe wind, his nostrils distended and his eyes aglow and determined. Ashe got near the barrier, he made as if he were going to keep right on.He came at top speed to within a foot of the tackle; then just as thetackle crouched low and sprang at him, Frank fell sidewise to theground, rolled over, and before the tackle could rise, jumped to hisfeet, ran at full speed and crossed the line!
Lunacy was the word to describe what followed. Madness seized the crowd.Hats in the air, good hats. Fellows thumped one another, jumped up anddown, yelled and bawled and screamed and cried. Hysteria was let loose.Regal knew that the game was won. The score now stood 9 to 8. As theteams were playing, Stanley could not score again. Regal took the balland brought it down the field to try for a goal. Bob kicked it, and itwent sailing just outside the mark. But no one minded. The fellowsrushed to position for the continuation of the game. All the way down totheir formation, it was nothing but "Bully Boy, Mulvy." "You saved theday, Mulvy." "You're a brick, Mulvy."
And from the crowd it was, "Mulvy, Mulvy! Rah, Rah, Mul....vy!" now fromone section of the Regal stand, now from another.
The whistle blew, the fight was on again. Stanley made desperate effortsto regain the lead. Once or twice they almost succeeded in breakingthrough. The yell from their followers now took another form. "Stanley,gain! Stanley, gain! Stanley, gain!" They tried hard. They kept ontrying to the very end. The whistle blew, the game was over, Regal wasInterscholastic Champion!
The noise that now broke out made all the previous demonstration seemmild in comparison. The Regal section of the stands was one mass offrenzied humanity. Men, women and boys yelled and slapped and thumped.Anything that could make a noise was commandeered and set in operation.It was temporary lunacy. The tense strain of nearly two hours let itselfoff in hysterically jubilant celebration.
But the real frenzy was on the field. The coach was fit to be caged. Heyelled and bawled and danced. He pummelled everybody and everythingwithin reach. All the reserve players were cheering and howling, boyfashion. The team itself was just one big satisfied smile. Their joy wastoo great for expression. They hugged one another. All of them tried tohug Frank at once.
"O let up," he yelled. "This is worse than the game." He tore himselfloose. But not for long. He was blocked everywhere. The team surroundedhim again, pitched him on the shoulders of the stoutest two, spite ofhis opposition, and marched off to the dressing room.
"What's the matter with Mulvy? He's all right! Who's all right?Mul....vy!" They repeated that over and over again. As they got near thestand, the crowd took it up, Gaffney leading. "What's the matter withMulvy? He's all right! Who's all right? Mulvy!"
About a hundred Regal boys with Gaffney at their head marched to Frank'shome yelling, "What's the matter with Mulvy? He's all right!
Who's allright? Mul....vy! Regal! Rah, Rah, Regal!--Mul. . . .vy!"
They passed the rectory on their way to Frank's house. Gaffney yelledout, "Here, fellows, let's give a good one for Regal and Mulvy." Thecheer rang out,
"Regal! Regal! Rah, Rah, Regal. What's the matter with Mulvy? He's allright! Who's all right? Mul....vy! Regal! Regal! Rah, Rah, Regal!Mulvy!"
Father Boone heard the yell and went to his window. It was the firstnews he had of the game. That yelling told him of victory, even beforehe heard what they were shouting. A defeated team goes home quietly. Notso the victors. He was glad beyond expression. Four of the boys on theteam were graduates of the Club. It was a great victory. But whattouched him particularly was that other yell he heard. Regal was musicto his ears, but Regal and Mulvy! That meant that Frank had done hisshare--more than his share. As he got to the window, the crowd wasmoving on. Every now and then he caught the refrain, "What's the matterwith Mulvy? He's all right."
"Yes, he is all right, thank God," he said to himself.
All through Parkville the crowd marched. They were killing time untilFrank should show up. Then they had their plans. After going to the HighSchool, and giving the Regal Rah, and the Mulvy Rah, they paraded up anddown the Avenue and over the cross streets until everyone knew thatMulvy was "all right." They waited and waited for Frank. But no Frankshowed up.
Finally Gaffney said, "I know that kid. He has given us the slip. It'sgetting dark, fellows, let's go up to his house and give him a good yelland then scatter." So on they marched to Frank's home. It was bedlam assoon as they got there. They yelled and yelled until the wholeneighborhood was out. That was what they wanted.
Mr. Mulvy had just got home from his office. Mr. and Mrs. Mulvy andFrank's two elder brothers and his sisters came to the windows to seewhat was up. They had not heard of the result of the game. Mrs. Mulvyhad just finished telling how they sent for Frank. What was theirastonishment then to hear the yell,
"Regal! Regal! Rah, Rah, Regal! Mul. . . .vy! What's the matter withMulvy? He's all right! Who's all right? Mul. . . .vy!"
Mr. Mulvy looked suddenly at Mrs. Mulvy. The big tears were rolling downher cheeks.
"Why, what's the matter, dear, you should be proud and happy?"
"I am. But you don't understand."
(VI)
About ten minutes later, when the crowd had dispersed, Frank camequietly along the Avenue and over the street to his home. To hissurprise the rooms were all lighted. He opened the door and receivedsuch a warm welcome that it took his breath away. All rushed at him toshake him by the hand and pat him on the back and kiss him. All but hismother. His eyes ran over the room in search of her. He saw her in thebig arm chair, her apron to her eyes, wiping away tears which only heunderstood. He ran into her arms. Neither said a word. They justembraced. Then she kissed him on the forehead. "You _are_ all right,Frank," was all she said.
Of course, he told them all about the game. But it was not until Dickand Ned and Tommie came in to congratulate him that they heard his partin it. Dick was a word painter, and he drew such a picture of the gameand of a "certain player" in it that a certain player blushed. But thefather and mother and the sisters and brothers of a "certain player"started in all over again to maul him, and tell that player what theythought of him.
After dinner, with Tommy and Dick and Ned all present, Frank had to godown to the Club. He didn't want to--he knew how the fellows would maulhim. But he did feel that Father Boone would expect him to be there.
The assembled fellows were hoping he would drop in. The boys who hadresigned were there, too. Frank's noble conduct had refuted all chargesagainst himself and the Club. The crowd, knowing his quiet ways, fearedthat he would not come. But when he arrived, it was the same old thingover again. Cheers, hand-shakes, howling, thumping, the way that boyshave of saying what they most want to say.
After a while, he went upstairs. Father Boone was expecting him. Heentered smiling. Father Boone was smiling too. But as they looked ateach other in silence, the strong man and the brave boy saw tears ineach other's eyes. They grasped hands. And they looked, as it were, eachinto the other's soul. For they understood.
For a long time they sat in silence, pensive, peaceful. At length FatherBoone broke the silence. It was no word of congratulation, no referenceto the game.
"Well, Frank, God's way is the best way."
Another spell of silence. This was broken by Frank.
"I remember, Father, that you said life was a mirage. I've been thinkingof poor Bill, and how he misunderstood us, and of how you were mistakenin me, and how I misjudged you. We saw so much that really was notthere at all."
"It's good to realize that so early in life, Frank. I've found fromexperience that most trouble comes from misunderstanding. Why Godpermits it, we do not know. I suppose it is to try us."
"You know so much about life, Father, why don't you write a book on it?"
"I may some day, Frank, and if I do I shall put you in it and call it'Mirage.'"
* * * * *
Transcriber's note:
Repeated book title was deleted.
Obvious punctuation errors were corrected.
Page 5, "genererally" changed to "generally" (and found generally)
Page 33, "accidently" changed to "accidentally" (meet him_accidentally_)
Page 41, "Her's" changed to "Hers" (Hers was not)
Page 100, "responsibilty" changed to "responsibility" (to shirkresponsibility)
Page 234, "her's" changed to "hers" (hand in hers)
Page 253, "their's" changed to "theirs" (theirs without half)
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