Frank Armstrong at Queens

  CHAPTER XI.

  A PROSPECTIVE PUPIL.

  The Monday following the interview between Frank, the Wee One andChip Dixon, found things moving very much better down at footballpractice. Horton turned up with a smiling face at the gymnasium thatafternoon while the squad was dressing. "Boys," he said, "we aregoing to let bygones be bygones. You've been playing worse ball thanyou knew, and after that awful game on Saturday I thought we might aswell all go over to the river and jump in. But that isn't the way towin out."

  One of the boys, lacing a refractory shoe, grinned up at him. All hadexpected a heckling and were not prepared for this.

  "But that isn't the way," he continued. "This is the last week wehave, that is, the last week of hard work before our Warwick game,for we can't do much the next week which will count for anything. Itwill be just the polishing-off process. So I'm going to ask you ifyou will give me your whole attention. We are going out to make thisseason a success in spite of the up-and-down game we've been playing.Are you with me?"

  There was a general murmur of agreement among all the fellows, anda few spoke out. "We will do our best, Mr. Horton," said big BostonWheeler. "The trouble is that we don't seem to get together."

  "That's just it," returned Horton, "you are never thinking about theteam; it seems to be always about your individual selves, and no teamever amounted to much that was simply eleven men. The eleven men mustwork as one man to make gains and stop gains by the other fellow.When you work that way and have confidence in yourselves individuallyas well as in yourselves as a team, there's nothing can stop you. Wehave a chance yet to win our big game, a fighting chance if everyonewill work with a will. Now, that's all I've got to say, the rest ofit is up to you fellows."

  It was with something a good deal like determination that the squadtramped out onto the gridiron that afternoon, and under the urgingsof Horton, the First eleven gave the Second such a pummelling as ithad never before received. Everything went with a rush. Jimmy wasplaying on the Second and putting every ounce he had into the work,but he was unable to stop the charges of Dutton, who came through theline like a bull.

  Three times the First scored on the Second, and twice held the Secondsafely inside the 10-yard line. Horton was jubilant, and the practiceended with hope high in every one's heart. Tuesday's practice waseven better, and the school, which had fallen away from the supportof the eleven, began to take more than a listless interest in theprogress of things on the gridiron. Jimmy was still on the Second,and taking most of the punishment from big Dutton. Hillard seemed tohave taken on a new grip of the ball and was playing faultlessly.Jimmy had had only one chance at the position on the First, and whilehe was in this position Chip had lived up to the bargain.

  "Wonder what's come over Dixon," said Jimmy to Frank that night, "hegave me that ball to-day as if it were the dearest possession he everowned and was afraid I might break it. He was so careful he almostmade it hard for me, but hard in a different way from the day theBarrows put it over us. No chance for a fumble there."

  Frank and the Wee One exchanged winks.

  "Oh, I guess Chip has had a change of heart," said the latter."Reformed, maybe."

  "He certainly has reformed as far as I'm concerned. I grew quite fondof him before the practice was over, although I know he doesn't likeme."

  "Whether he likes you or not makes no particular difference as longas he gives that ball to you right," said Frank.

  "Oh, but his sweet disposition comes too late, for I'll not getanother chance. Hillard is playing like a breeze, and he's certain togo in first. My only chance is for him to break a leg or his neck orsomething, then I might have a lick at it."

  "But in the meantime you are learning the game. I saw Horton speakingto you the other day; what did he say?"

  "Oh, he told me to keep at it, I might make the team in a year ortwo."

  "Don't believe him," broke in Lewis. "Horton was asking for a littlebit of advice from my room-mate." Lewis, since his retirement fromthe onerous duties of holding down the sideline, assumed the positionof critic and cynic. "And that makes me think," Lewis continued, "Isaw Horton talking to you the other day in the gymnasium, Frank. Washe asking you for advice, too?"

  "Oh, just telling me that I ought to come out and get a littlepractice at the game myself. He said he thought I was too light thisyear, but that I might thicken up next year. He put me through acourse of sprouts on what I knew and what I didn't know."

  "Didn't take you long to tell him that latter section, I suppose,"ventured the loquacious Lewis, "but please take warning from my caseand recognize that even the most gifted coach sees only a smallamount of the real talent." Lewis threw out his chest.

  "Frank, did they tell you how Lewis distinguished himself the firstday he was out?" said Jimmy.

  "Well, that story ought not to be lost. Horton picked up a couple ofelevens the first afternoon we were out, along about the end of thefirst week of practice. He had been showing us how to fall on theball, which was where Lewis shone bright as the morning star. Whenthe ball got loose and Lewis fell on it, it never got away, but itgenerally needed repairs, he fell on it so earnestly, and you knowLewis isn't a featherweight."

  "This story is a chestnut, Frank," said Lewis. "Jimmy got it out of abook somewhere and retails it about me. He is giving himself more andmore to unbridled fiction."

  "Well," continued Jimmy, going on without seeming to notice theinterruption from the hero of the story, "Lewis was placed asa halfback on one of these catch-as-catch-can teams. It was animpressive sight to see Lewis trying to run with that ball. About thetime he had made up his mind which way to dodge, some one had himabout the legs. Horton was good natured then and only laughed. Butthere was one thing that Lewis could do to the Queen's taste; as Itold you, he could fall on that ball, and once, when it came poppingout of the line, he dropped on it and saved the day for his side."

  "See him swell up at this part of the story," said Frank.

  "That particular afternoon," went on Jimmy, "in one of the scrimmagesin which Lewis' team was on the defensive, one of the other backscame up to the line, but owing to the mix-up of the signals and amix-up of players, some one lost his head-gear, and it rolled out onthe side that Lewis was defending. He immediately fell on it whilethe runner recovered, swept over him and scored, and that was thelast of Lewis as a real football player. He looked impressive afterthat coming onto the field, and I think once or twice Horton lethim carry the balls, but they were the spare ones which were tiedtogether with a string."

  Lewis took the chaffing good-naturedly. "But wait until next year,"he said. "I'm going out again and I'll try for center. My weight andfine build will strengthen up that weak spot I can tell you."

  "Maybe we'll all be on the team next year," said Jimmy.

  "And then it will be a mess, sure," said Frank.

  As the boys were still joking about the possibilities of Lewis forcenter on the team of the following year, there came a knock at thedoor.

  "Come in," yelled Lewis, "don't stop to knock."

  It was a Western Union Telegraph messenger.

  "A telegram for Frank Armstrong," he said. "Went to your room atNo. 18, and the fellow over there said to pursue my diligent waythitherwards, and ask for one Frank Armstrong who might be in companyof a fat boy with pink cheeks," Jimmy snickered, "and a brick top."It was now Lewis' turn to snicker.

  Meantime Frank had taken the telegram and had broken the seal. Heread it with the greatest surprise.

  "Great Scott, fellows, listen to this:

  "'New York, October 25. Frank Armstrong, Queen's School, Milton.David has decided to enter Queen's if possible. Will reach thereThursday. Signed, J. B. Powers.'"

  "Can't get along without you. Overpowering magnetism and all thatsort of thing," said Lewis.

  "It's fine, isn't it?" said Frank. "The school is crowded, but ifthe Doctor has no objections I can take him over in No. 18 with me.There's barrels of room, and I'm sure Gleason wouldn't mind. He's agoo
d old encyclopedia. He's busy just at present compiling records ofthe high jump since 1852."

  "Why doesn't he go back to 1492," suggested Lewis. "Columbus wasquite a little jumper himself."

  "And there was the cow that jumped over the moon," said Jimmy; "tellhim to get that record sure. The old bovine put them all in theshade."

  "Come and tell him yourself," cried Frank, at the door. "I'm goingover to see if we can't squeeze another couch in my sleeping den.It's not as big as the Grand Central, but if it can be managed, Davidis sure going to be with me."

  "If the room is too small, why not try a trundle bed?" called outLewis, but Frank was half way down the stairs and did not hear him.

  Frank burst into No. 18 where Gleason was scratching away in hisbook of records. "Say, Gleason, got any objection to having anotherroom-mate?"

  "What, Web-foot, going to leave your old wife?" said Gleason, lookingup in surprise.

  "I don't mean that. The fellow I was down south with this summer hasdecided to come to Queen's, if he can get in. I know the dormitoriesare all crowded, and I'm willing to have him bunk in with me. He's adandy chap. You'd like him."

  "No objections from the Codfish," announced that individual. "We canset up a four-poster in the room here. It'll be very handy to hangour clothes on. We need more room here anyway," and he looked aroundat the disarray of clothes piled on chairs and tables and windowseat. "Bring him in, sir, the more the merrier. Always room at thetop," and Gleason returned to his scratching.

  "It will not be necessary to put him in here. He can have half of myroom," said Frank. "If the Doctor has no objection, it's settled. Ihad more room than I needed anyway."

  "When's he coming?" inquired Gleason.

  "The telegram I had says he's on the way and will be here Thursday."

  "Is he a Web-foot, too?"

  "No, David hasn't any feet to speak of. He walks with crutches andcan't take part in athletics, but he's about the finest little chapyou ever saw."

  "Speaking of feet," said Gleason, "since you are not doing anythingin football, why don't you go down to the track and do somethingthere? You are a likely looking athlete, and you might be able tohelp old man Duffy win some points for Queen's. He needs candidatesfor every event. Nearly all the first string fellows graduated lastyear. Great chance for some young buck to distinguish himself."

  "Why don't you go down and show him some speed yourself?"

  "Me? Oh, I'd rather watch. You see I don't come of an athleticfamily. I'd rather set down what the other fellow does. Got to besome one to do that, you know."

  The notion stuck in Frank's head. "I believe I'll do it," he saidhalf to himself. "To-morrow I'll give myself up. I don't thinkanything will come of it, but I'd like to do something to help theschool, and father has barred me out of football this year, but saysI'll be hardened up enough if I stay out of it till next fall."

  "You'll be hardened enough if you stay with me," said the Codfish,and Frank dived into his room, laughing.