diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/65819-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/65819-0.txt | 8196 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 8196 deletions
diff --git a/old/65819-0.txt b/old/65819-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 9e03782..0000000 --- a/old/65819-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8196 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Purple Pennant, by Ralph Henry Barbour - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Purple Pennant - -Author: Ralph Henry Barbour - -Illustrator: Norman P. Rockwell - -Release Date: July 10, 2021 [eBook #65819] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Donald Cummings and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team - at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images - generously made available by The Internet Archive/American - Libraries.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PURPLE PENNANT *** - - - - -[Illustration: “Like a white streak, Perry breasted the string”] - - - - - THE - PURPLE PENNANT - - BY - RALPH HENRY BARBOUR - - AUTHOR OF “THE SECRET PLAY,” “THE LUCKY SEVENTH,” ETC. - - - [Illustration] - - - ILLUSTRATED BY - NORMAN P. ROCKWELL - - - NEW YORK AND LONDON - D. APPLETON AND COMPANY - 1916 - - - - - Copyright, 1916, by - D. APPLETON AND COMPANY - - - Printed in the United States of America - - - - -CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - I. FUDGE IS INTERRUPTED 1 - II. THE TRY-OUT 11 - III. THE SHADOW ON THE CURTAIN 23 - IV. THE ODE TO SPRING 38 - V. PERRY REMEMBERS 50 - VI. THE FALSE MUSTACHE 61 - VII. FUDGE REVOLTS 74 - VIII. LANNY STUDIES STEAM ENGINEERING 89 - IX. THE NEW SIGN 99 - X. THE BORROWED ROLLER 110 - XI. GORDON DESERTS HIS POST 120 - XII. ON DICK’S PORCH 130 - XIII. FOILED! 142 - XIV. THE GAME WITH NORRISVILLE 152 - XV. THE WHITE SCAR 166 - XVI. SEARS MAKES A SUGGESTION 179 - XVII. THE SQUAD AT WORK 190 - XVIII. THE OFFICER AT THE DOOR 202 - XIX. THE TRAIN-ROBBER IS WARNED 213 - XX. MR. ADDICKS EXPLAINS 226 - XXI. ON THE TRACK 240 - XXII. THE NEW COACH 258 - XXIII. OUT AT THE PLATE! 273 - XXIV. CLEARFIELD CONCEDES THE MEET 290 - XXV. SPRINGDALE LEADS 300 - XXVI. THE PURPLE PENNANT 311 - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - - “Like a white streak, Perry breasted the string” _Frontispiece_ - - FACING PAGE - - “‘On your mark!... Set!... Go!’” 18 - - “‘What’s that?’ asked Perry, startled” 220 - - “Lanny, dropping to his knees on the plate, got it a foot - from the ground” 286 - - - - -THE PURPLE PENNANT - - - - -CHAPTER I - -FUDGE IS INTERRUPTED - - -“‘Keys,’” murmured Fudge Shaw dreamily, “‘please’――‘knees’――‘breeze’――I’ve -used that――‘pease’――‘sneeze’――Oh, piffle!” His inspired gaze returned to -the tablet before him and he read aloud the lines inscribed thereon: - - “O Beauteous Spring, thou art, I ween, - The best of all the Seasons, - Because you clothe the Earth with green - And for numerous other reasons. - - “You make the birds sing in the trees, - The April breeze to blow, - The Sun to shine――――” - -“‘The Sun to shine――――,’” he muttered raptly, “‘The Sun to shine’; -‘squeeze’――‘tease’――‘fleas’―――― Gee, I wish I hadn’t tried to rhyme all -the lines. Now, let’s see: ‘You make the birds――――’” - -“O Fudge! Fudge Shaw!” - -Fudge raised his head and peered through the young leaves of the -apple-tree in which he was perched, along the side yard to where, -leaning over the fence, was a lad of about Fudge’s age. The visitor -alternately directed his gaze toward the tree and the house, for it -was Sunday afternoon and Perry Hull was doubtful of the propriety of -hailing his friend in week-day manner. - -“Hello, Perry, come on in!” called Fudge. And thereupon he detached the -“Ode to Spring” from the tablet, hastily folded it and put it in his -pocket. When Perry climbed the ladder which led to the platform some -eight feet above the ground Fudge was in the act of closing a Latin -book with a tired air. - -“What are you doing?” asked Perry. He was a nice-looking chap of -fifteen, with steady dark-brown eyes, hair a shade or two lighter and a -capable and alert countenance. He swung himself lithely over the rail -instead of crawling under, as was Fudge’s custom, and seated himself on -the narrow bench beyond the books. - -“Sort of studying,” answered Fudge, ostentatiously shoving the books -further away and scowling distastefully at them. “Where have you been?” - -“Just moseying around. Peach of a day, isn’t it?” - -It was. It had rained until nearly dinner time, and grass and leaves -were still beaded with moisture which an ardent April sun was doing its -best to burn away. It was the first spring-like day in over a week of -typical April weather during which Clearfield had remained under gray -skies. Fudge assented to Perry’s observation, but it was to be seen -that his thoughts were elsewhere. His lips moved soundlessly. Perry -viewed him with surprise and curiosity, but before he could demand an -explanation of his host’s abstraction Fudge burst forth triumphantly. - -“‘B-b-bees!’” exclaimed Fudge. (Excitement always caused him to -stammer, a fact which his friends were aware of and frequently made use -of for their entertainment.) Perry involuntarily ducked his head and -looked around. - -“Where?” he asked apprehensively. - -“Nowhere.” Fudge chuckled. “I was just thinking of something.” - -“Huh!” Perry settled back again. “You’re crazy, I guess. Better come -for a walk and you’ll feel better.” - -“Can’t.” Fudge looked gloomily at the books. “Got to study.” - -“Then I’ll beat it.” - -“Hold on, can’t you? You don’t have to go yet. I――there isn’t such -an awful hurry.” The truth was that Fudge was not an enthusiastic -pedestrian, a fact due partly to his physical formation and partly to -a disposition contemplative rather than active. Nature had endowed -Fudge――his real name, by the way, was William――with a rotund body and -capable but rather short legs. Walking for the mere sake of locomotion -didn’t appeal to him. He would have denied indignantly that he was -lazy, and, to do him justice, he wasn’t. With Fudge it was less a -matter of laziness than discrimination. Give him something to do -that interested him――such as playing baseball or football――and Fudge -would willingly, enthusiastically work his short legs for all that -was in them, but this thing of deliberately tiring oneself out with -no sensible end in view――well, Fudge couldn’t see it! He had a round -face from which two big blue eyes viewed the world with a constant -expression of surprise. His hair was sandy-red, and he was fifteen, -almost sixteen, years old. - -“It’s too nice a day to sit around and do nothing,” objected Perry. -“Why don’t you get your studying done earlier?” - -“I meant to, but I had some writing to do.” Fudge looked important. -Perry smiled slightly. “I finished that story I told you about.” - -“Did you?” Perry strove to make his question sound interested. “Are -you going to have it printed?” - -“Maybe,” replied the other carelessly. “It’s a pippin, all right, -Perry! It’s nearly fourteen thousand words long! What do you know about -that, son? Maybe I’ll send it to the _Reporter_ and let them publish -it. Or maybe I’ll send it to one of the big New York magazines. I -haven’t decided yet. Dick says I ought to have it typewritten; that the -editors won’t read it unless it is. But it costs like anything. Morris -Brent has a typewriter and he said I could borrow it, but I never wrote -on one of the things and I suppose it would take me a month to do it, -eh? Seems to me if the editors want good stories they can’t afford to -be so plaguey particular. Besides, my writing’s pretty easy reading -just as soon as you get used to it.” - -“You might typewrite the first two or three sheets,” suggested Perry, -with a chuckle, “and then perhaps the editor would be so anxious to -know how it ended he’d keep right on. What are you going to call it, -Fudge?” - -Fudge shook his head. “I’ve got two or three good titles. ‘The -Middleton Mystery’ is one of them. Then there’s ‘Young Sleuth’s -Greatest Case.’ I guess that’s too long, eh?” - -“I like the first one better.” - -“Yes. Then I thought of ‘Tracked by Anarchists.’ How’s that sound to -you?” - -“‘The Meredith Mystery’ is the best,” replied Perry judicially. - -“‘Middleton,’” corrected Fudge. “Yep, I guess it’ll be that. I told -that fellow Potter about it and he said if I’d let him take it he’d -see about getting it published in the _Reporter_. He’s a sort of an -editor, you know. But I guess the _Reporter_ isn’t much of a paper, -and a writer who’s just starting out has to be careful not to cheapen -himself, you see.” - -“Will he pay you for it?” asked Perry. - -“He didn’t say. I don’t suppose so. Lots of folks don’t get paid for -their first things, though. Look at――look at Scott; and――and Thackeray, -and――lots of ’em! You don’t suppose they got paid at first, do you?” - -“Didn’t they?” asked Perry in some surprise. - -“Oh, maybe Thackeray got a few dollars,” hedged Fudge, “but what was -that? Look what he used to get for his novels afterwards!” - -Perry obligingly appeared deeply impressed, although he secretly -wondered what Thackeray _did_ get afterwards. However, he forebore -to ask, which was just as well, I fancy. Instead, tiring of Fudge’s -literary affairs, he observed: “Well, I hope they print it for you, -anyway. And maybe they’ll take another one and pay for that. Say, -aren’t you going out for baseball, Fudge?” - -“Oh, I’m going out, I guess, but it won’t do any good. I don’t intend -to sit around on the bench half the spring and then get fired. The only -place I’d stand any chance of is the outfield, and I suppose I don’t -hit well enough to make it. You going to try?” - -Perry shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I can’t play much. Warner -Jones told me the other day that if I’d come out he’d give me a good -chance. I suppose he thinks I can play baseball because I was on the -Eleven.” - -“Well, gee, if you could get to first you’d steal all the other bases, -I’ll bet,” said Fudge admiringly. “You sure can run, Perry!” - -“Y-yes, and that makes me think that maybe I could do something on the -Track Team. What do you think, Fudge?” - -“Bully scheme! Go out for the sprints! Ever try the hundred?” - -“No, I’ve never run on the track at all. How fast ought I to run the -hundred yards, Fudge, to have a show?” - -“Oh, anything under eleven seconds would do, I suppose. Maybe ten and -four-fifths. Know what you can do it in?” - -“No, I never ran it. I’d like to try, though.” - -“Why don’t you? Say, I’ve got a stop-watch in the house. You wait here -and I’ll get it and we’ll go over to the track and――――” - -“Pshaw, I couldn’t run in these clothes!” - -“Well, you can take your coat and vest off, can’t you? And put on a -pair of sneakers? Of course, you can’t run as fast, but you can show -what you can do. Perry, I’ll just bet you anything you’ve got the -making of a fine little sprinter! You wait here; I won’t be a minute.” - -“But it’s Sunday, Fudge, and the field will be locked, and――and you’ve -got your lessons――――” - -“They can wait,” replied Fudge, dropping to the ground and making off -toward the side door. “We’ll try the two-twenty, too, Perry!” - -He disappeared and a door slammed. Perry frowned in the direction of -the house. “Silly chump!” he muttered. Then he smiled. After all, why -not? He did want to know if he could run, and, if they could get into -the field, which wasn’t likely, since it was Sunday and the gates would -be locked, it would be rather fun to try it! He wondered just how fast -ten and four-fifths seconds was. He wished he hadn’t done so much -walking since dinner, for he was conscious that his legs were a bit -tired. At that moment in his reflections there came a subdued whistle -from the house and Fudge waved to him. - -“Come on,” he called in a cautious whisper. “I’ve got it. And the -sneakers, too.” He glanced a trifle apprehensively over his shoulder -while he awaited Perry’s arrival and when the latter had joined him he -led the way along the side path in a quiet and unostentatious manner -suggesting a desire to depart unobserved. Once out of sight of the -house, however, his former enthusiasm returned. “We’ll climb over the -fence,” he announced. “I know a place where it isn’t hard. Of course, -we ought to have a pistol to start with, but I guess it will do if I -just say ‘Go!’” He stopped indecisively. “Gordon has a revolver,” he -said thoughtfully. “We might borrow it. Only, maybe he isn’t home. I -haven’t seen him all day.” - -“Never mind, we don’t need it,” said Perry, pulling him along. “He’d -probably want to go along with us, Fudge, and I don’t want any -audience. I dare say I won’t be able to run fast at all.” - -“Well, you mustn’t expect too much the first time,” warned the other. -“A chap’s got to be in condition, you know. You’ll have to train -and――and all that. Ever do any hurdling?” - -“No, and I don’t think I could.” - -“It isn’t hard once you’ve caught the knack of it. I was only thinking -that if you had plenty of steam you might try sprints and hurdles -both. All we’d have to do would be to set the hurdles up. I know where -they’re kept. Then――――” - -“Now, look here,” laughed Perry, “I’m willing to make a fool of myself -trying the hundred-yard dash, Fudge, but I’m not going to keep you -entertained all the rest of the afternoon.” - -“All right, we’ll just try the hundred and the two-twenty.” - -“No, we won’t either. We’ll just try the hundred. Will those shoes fit -me? And oughtn’t they to have spikes?” - -“Sure, they ought, but they haven’t. We’ll have to make allowance for -that, I guess. And they’ll have to fit you because they’re all we’ve -got. I guess you wear about the same size that I do. Here we are! Now -we’ll go around to the Louise Street side; there’s a place there we can -climb easily.” - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE TRY-OUT - - -The High School Athletic Field――it was officially known as Brent -Field――occupied two whole blocks in the newer part of town. The school -had used it for a number of years, but only last summer, through -the generosity of Mr. Jonathan Brent, Clearfield’s richest and most -prominent citizen, had it come into actual possession of the field. -The gift had been as welcome as unexpected and had saved the school -from the difficult task of finding a new location for its athletic -activities. But, unfortunately, the possession of a large tract of -ground in the best residential part of the town was proving to have its -drawbacks. The taxes were fairly large, repairs to stands and fences -required a constant outlay, the field itself, while level enough, was -far from smooth, and the cinder track, a make-shift affair at the -beginning, stood badly in need of reconstruction. Add to these expenses -the minor ones of water rent, insurance on buildings and care-taking -and you will see that the Athletic Association had something to think -about. - -The town folks always spoke of it as “the town,” although it was, -as a matter of fact, a city and boasted of over seventeen thousand -inhabitants――supported the High School athletic events, notably -football and baseball, generously enough, but it was already evident to -those in charge that the receipts from gridiron and diamond attractions -would barely keep the field as it was and would not provide money for -improvements. There had been some talk of an endowment fund from Mr. -Brent, but whether that gentleman had ever said anything to warrant -the rumor or whether it had been started by someone more hopeful than -veracious was a matter for speculation. At any rate, no endowment fund -had so far materialized and the Athletic Committee’s finances were at -a low ebb. Two sections of grandstand had been replaced in the fall, -and that improvement promised to be the last for some time, unless, -as seemed improbable, the Committee evolved some plan whereby to -replenish its treasury. Various schemes had been suggested, such as a -public canvass of the town and school. To this, however, Mr. Grayson, -the Principal, had objected. It was not, he declared, right to ask the -citizens to contribute funds for such a purpose. Nor would he allow -a petition to the Board of Education. In fact, Mr. Grayson as good -as said that now that the school had been generously presented with -an athletic field it was up to the school to look after it. Raising -money amongst the students he had no objection to, but the amount -obtainable in that manner was too small to make it worth while. The -plan of raising the price of admission to baseball and football from -twenty-five cents to fifty was favored by some, while others feared -that it would keep so many away from the contests that there would -be no profit in it. In short, the Committee was facing a difficult -problem and with no solution in sight. And the field, from its patched, -rickety, high board fence to grandstands and dressing-rooms, loudly -demanded succor. Fudge voiced the general complaint when, having -without difficulty mounted the fence and dropped to the soggy turf -inside, followed more lithely by Perry Hull, he viewed the cinder track -with disfavor. The recent rain had flooded it from side to side, and, -since it was lower than the ground about it and had been put down with -little or no provision for drainage, inch-deep puddles still lingered -in the numerous depressions. - -“We can’t practice here,” said Perry. - -“Wouldn’t that agonize you?” demanded Fudge. “Gee, what’s the good -of having an athletic field if you can’t keep it up? This thing is -g-g-going to be a regular w-w-white elephant!” - -“It looks pretty soppy, doesn’t it?” asked Perry. “I guess we’d better -wait until it’s drier. I don’t mind running, but I wasn’t counting on -having to swim!” - -“Maybe it’s better on the straightaway,” responded Fudge more -cheerfully. “We’ll go over and see.” - -As luck had it, it was drier on the far side of the field, and Fudge -advanced the plea that by keeping close to the outer board Perry could -get along without splashing much. Perry, however, ruefully considered -his Sunday trousers and made objections. - -“But it isn’t mud,” urged Fudge. “It’s just a little water. That won’t -hurt your trousers a bit. And you can reef them up some, too. Be a -sport, Perry! Gee, I’d do it in a minute if I could!” - -“Guess that’s about what I’ll do it in,” said the other. “Well, all -right. Here goes. Give me the sneakers.” - -“Here they are. Guess we’d better go down to the seats and change them, -though. It’s too damp to sit down here.” - -So they walked to the grandstand at the turn and Perry pulled off his -boots and tried the sneakers on. They were a little too large, but he -thought they would do. Fudge suggested stuffing some paper in the -toes, but as there was no paper handy that plan was abandoned. Perry’s -hat, coat and vest were laid beside his boots and he turned up the -bottoms of his trousers. Then they walked along the track, skirting -puddles or jumping over them. Fortunately, they had the field to -themselves, thanks to locked gates, something Perry was thankful for -when Fudge, discouraging his desire to have the event over with at -once, insisted that he should prance up and down the track and warm up. - -“You can’t run decently until you’ve got your legs warm and your -muscles limber,” declared Fudge wisely. “And you’d better try a few -starts, too.” - -So, protestingly, Perry danced around where he could find a dry -stretch, lifting his knees high in the manner illustrated by Fudge, and -then allowed the latter to show him how to crouch for the start. - -“Put your right foot up to the line,” instructed Fudge. “Here, -I’ll scratch a line across for you. There. Now put your foot up to -that――your _right_ foot, silly! That’s your left! Now put your left -knee alongside it and your hands down. That’s it, only you want to -dig a bit of a hole back there for your left foot, so you’ll get away -quick. Just scrape out the cinders a little. All right. Now when I -say ‘Set,’ you come up and lean forward until the weight comes on your -front foot and hands; most on your foot; your hands are just to steady -yourself with. That’s the trick. Now then; ‘On your mark!’ Wait! I -didn’t say ‘Set!’” - -“Oh, well, cut out the trimmings,” grumbled Perry. “I can’t stay like -this forever. Besides, I’d rather start on the other foot, anyway.” - -“All right; some fellows do,” replied Fudge, untroubled, neglecting to -explain that he had made a mistake. Perry made the change and expressed -his satisfaction. - -“That’s more like it. Say, how do you happen to know so much about it, -Fudge?” - -“Observation, son. Now, all right? Ready to try it? Set!... Go!” - -Perry went, but he stumbled for the first three or four steps and lost -his stride completely. - -“You had your weight on your hands instead of your feet,” commented the -instructor. “Try it again.” - -He tried it many times, at last becoming quite interested in the -problem of getting away quickly and steadily, and finally Fudge -declared himself satisfied. “Now I’ll stand back here a ways where I -can start you and at the same time see when you cross the line down -there. Of course, we ought to have another fellow here to help, but -I guess I can manage all right.” He set his stop-watch, composed his -features into a stern frown and retired some twenty yards back from the -track and half that distance nearer the finish line. “On your mark!” -called Fudge. “Set!... Go!” - -Perry sped from the mark only to hear Fudge’s arresting voice. “Sorry, -Perry, but I forgot to start the watch that time. Try it again.” - -“That’s a fine trick! I had a bully getaway,” complained the sprinter. -“Make it good this time, Fudge; I’m getting dog-tired!” - -“I will. Now, then! On your mark!... Set!... Go!” - -[Illustration: “‘On your mark!... Set!... Go!’”] - -Off leaped Perry again, not quite so nicely this time, and down the wet -path he sped, splashing through the puddles, head back, legs twinkling. -And, as though trying to make pace for him, Fudge raced along on the -turf in a valiant endeavor to judge the finish. Perry’s Sunday trousers -made a gray streak across the line, Fudge pressed convulsively on the -stem of the watch and the trial was over! - -“Wh-what was it?” inquired Perry breathlessly as he walked back. Fudge -was staring puzzledly at the dial. - -“I made it twelve seconds,” he responded dubiously. - -“Twelve! And you said I’d ought to do it under eleven!” Perry viewed -him discouragedly. - -“Well, maybe I didn’t snap it just when I should have,” said the timer. -“It’s hard to see unless you’re right at the line.” - -“You must have! I’ll bet anything I did it better than twelve. Don’t -you think I did?” - -“Well, it looked to me as if you were going pretty fast,” answered -Fudge cautiously. “But those trousers, and not having any spikes, and -the track being so wet――Gee, but you did get splashed, didn’t you?” - -“I should say so,” replied Perry, observing his trousers disgustedly. -“The water even went into my face! Say, let’s try it again, Fudge, and -you stand here at the finish.” - -“All right, but how’ll I start you?” - -“Wave a handkerchief or something?” - -“I’ve got it. I’ll clap a couple of sticks together.” So Fudge set out -to find his sticks while Perry, rather winded, seated himself on the -stand. Fudge finally came back with the required articles and Perry -declared himself rested and ready for another trial. “I’ll clap the -sticks together first for you to get set and then for the start. Like -this.” Fudge illustrated. “Suppose you can hear it?” - -“Sure.” Perry proceeded back to the beginning of the straightaway and -Fudge stationed himself at the finish, scuffling a line across the -track for his better guidance. Then, while the sprinter was getting his -crouch, he experimented with slapping the sticks and snapping the watch -at the same instant, a rather difficult proceeding. - -“All ready!” shouted Perry, poised on finger-tips and knee. - -“All right!” called Fudge in response. He examined his watch, fixed -a finger over the stem, took a deep breath and clapped the sticks. -Perry set. Another clap and a simultaneous jab at the watch, and Perry -was racing down the track. Fudge’s eyes took one fleeting look at the -runner and then fixed themselves strainedly on the line he had drawn -across the cinders. Nearer and nearer came the _scrunch_ of the flying -sneakers, there was a sudden blur of gray in Fudge’s vision and he -snapped the watch. Perry turned and trotted anxiously back. - -“Well?” he asked. - -“Better,” replied Fudge. “Of course, the track’s awfully slow――――” - -“How much? Let’s see?” - -Fudge yielded the watch and Perry examined it. “Eleven and two-fifths!” -he shouted protestingly. “Say, this thing’s crazy! I know mighty well -I didn’t run nearly so fast as I did the first time!” - -“I didn’t snap it soon enough the other time,” explained Fudge. -“Honest, Perry, eleven and two-fifths isn’t half bad. Why, look at the -slow track and your long trousers――――” - -“Yes, and they weigh a ton, they’re so wet,” grumbled Perry. “And so -do these shoes. I’m going to try it some time when the track’s dry and -I’ve got regular running things on. I suppose eleven and two-fifths -_isn’t_ terribly bad, considering!” - -“Bad! It’s mighty good,” said Fudge warmly. “Why, look here, Perry, if -you can do it in that time to-day you can do it nearly a second faster -on a dry track and――and all! You see if you can’t. I’ll bet you you’ll -be a regular sprinter by the time we meet Springdale!” - -“Honest, Fudge?” - -“Honest to goodness! To-morrow you put your name down for the Track -Team and get yourself some running things. I’ll go along with you if -you like. I know just what you ought to have.” - -“I don’t suppose I’ll really have any show for the team,” said Perry -modestly. “But it’ll be pretty good fun. Say, Fudge, I didn’t know I -could run as fast as I did that first time. It seemed to me I was -going like the very dickens! It――it’s mighty interesting, isn’t it?” - -“Yes,” replied Fudge, as Perry donned his things. “You don’t want to -try the two-twenty or the hurdles, do you?” - -“I should say not! I’m tuckered out. I’m going to try the two-twenty -some day, though. I don’t think I’d care about hurdling.” - -“You can’t tell,” murmured Fudge thoughtfully. - -Later, when they had once more surmounted the fence and were heading -toward B Street, Fudge, who had said little for many minutes, observed: -“I wonder, Perry, if a fellow wouldn’t have more fun with the Track -Team than with the Nine. I’ve a good mind to go in for it.” - -“Why don’t you?” asked Perry, encouragingly eager. “What would you try? -Running or――or what?” His gaze unconsciously strayed over his friend’s -rotund figure. - -“N-no,” replied Fudge hesitantly. “I don’t think so. I might go in for -the mile, maybe. I don’t know yet. I’m just thinking of it. I’d have to -study a bit. Perhaps the weights would be my line. Ever put the shot?” -Perry shook his head. “Neither have I, but I’ll bet I could. All it -takes is practice. Say, wouldn’t it be funny if you and I both made the -team?” - -“It would be dandy,” declared Perry. “Do you suppose there’d be any -chance of it?” - -“Why not?” asked Fudge cheerfully. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE SHADOW ON THE CURTAIN - - -The two boys parted at Main and B Streets, Fudge to loiter thoughtfully -southward under the budding maples and Perry to continue briskly -on along the wider thoroughfare to where, almost at the corner of -G Street, a small yellow house stood in a diminutive yard behind a -decaying picket fence. Over the gate, which had stood open ever since -Perry had grown too old to enjoy swinging on it, was a square lantern -supported on an iron arch. At night a dim light burned in it, calling -the passer’s attention to the lettering on the front: - - NO. 7――DR. HULL――OFFICE. - -Beside the front door a second sign proclaimed the house to be the -abode of Matthew P. Hull, M. D. - -Nearby was an old-fashioned bell-pull and, just below it, a more modern -button. Above the latter were the words “Night Bell.” The house looked -homelike and scrupulously clean, but evidences of disrepair were -abundant. The bases of the four round pillars supporting the roof of -the porch which ran across the front were rotting, the steps creaked -ominously under Perry’s feet and the faded yellow paint was blistered -and cracked. - -Dr. Hull only rented the house, and the owner, since the retail -business district had almost surrounded it and he expected to soon -sell, was extremely chary of repairs. Perry’s father had lived there so -long that he hated the thought of moving. He had grown very fond of the -place, a fondness shared to a lesser extent by Mrs. Hull and scarcely -at all by Perry. But Dr. Hull’s motives in remaining there were not -wholly sentimental. He had slowly and arduously accumulated a fair -practice and, now that the town was over-supplied with physicians, he -feared that a change of location would lose him his clients. Dr. Hull -was not an old man, but he was forty-odd and rather of the old-style, -and shook his head over the pushing methods of the newcomers. Perry -assured him that it would be a good thing if he did lose some of his -present practice, since half of it brought him little or no money, and -that in a better location he could secure a better class of patients. -But Perry wasn’t very certain of this, while his mother, who sighed -secretly for a home where the plaster didn’t crumble nor the floors -creak, had even less faith in the Doctor’s ability to begin over again. - -Perry glanced through the open door of the tiny waiting room on the -left as he hung up his cap and, finding it empty and the further door -ajar, knew that his father was out. He went on up the stairs, which -complained at almost every footfall, and stole noiselessly down the -narrow hall to his own room. His mother’s door was closed and this was -the hour when, on Sundays, she enjoyed what she termed “forty winks.” -Perry’s room was small and lighted by three narrow windows set close -together. While they admitted light they afforded but little view, for -beyond the shallow back-yard loomed the side wall of a five-storied -brick building which fronted on G Street. Directly on a level with -Perry’s windows was Curry’s Glove factory, occupying the second floor -of the building. Below was a bakery. Above were offices; a dentist’s, a -lawyer’s, and several that were empty or changed tenants so frequently -that Perry couldn’t keep track of them. In winter the light that came -through the three windows was faint and brief, but at other seasons the -sunlight managed somehow to find its way there. This afternoon a golden -ray still lingered on the table, falling athwart the strapped pile of -school books and spilling over to the stained green felt. - -Perry seated himself at the table, put an elbow beside the pile of -books and, cupping chin in hand, gazed thoughtfully down into the yard. -There was a lean and struggling lilac bush against one high fence and -its green leaves were already unfolding. That, reflected the boy, meant -that spring was really here again at last. It was already nearly the -middle of April. Then came May and June, and then the end of school. -He sighed contentedly at the thought. Not that he didn’t get as much -pleasure out of school as most fellows, but there comes a time, when -buds are swelling and robins are hopping and breezes blow warmly, when -the idea of spending six hours of the finest part of the day indoors -becomes extremely distasteful. And that time had arrived. - -Perry turned to glance with sudden hostility at the piled-up books. -What good did it do a fellow, anyway, to learn a lot of Latin and -algebra and physics and――and all the rest of the stuff? If he only -knew what he was going to be when he grew up it might save a lot of -useless trouble! Until a year ago he had intended to follow in his -father’s footsteps, but of late the profession of medicine had failed -to hold his enthusiasm. It seemed to him that doctors had to work very -hard and long for terribly scant returns in the way of either money -or fame. No, he wouldn’t be a doctor. Lawyers had a far better time -of it; so did bankers and――and almost everyone. Sometimes he thought -that engineering was the profession for him. He would go to Boston -or New York and enter a technical school and learn civil or mining -engineering. Mining engineers especially had a fine, adventurous life -of it. And he wouldn’t have to spend all the rest of his life in -Clearfield then. - -Clearfield was all right, of course; Perry had been born in it and -was loyal to it; but there was a whole big lot of the world that he’d -like to see! He got up and pulled an atlas from the lower shelf of his -book-case and spread it open. Colorado! Arizona! Nevada! Those were -names for you! And look at all the territory out there that didn’t have -a mark on it! Prairies and deserts and plateaus! Miles and miles and -miles of them without a town or a railroad or anything! Gee, it would -be great to live in that part of the world, he told himself. Adventures -would be thick as blueberries out there. Back here nothing ever -happened to a fellow. He wondered if it would be possible to persuade -his father to move West, to some one of those fascinating towns with -the highly romantic names; like Manzanola or Cotopaxi or Painted Rock. -His thoughts were far afield now and, while his gaze was fixed on the -lilac bush below, his eyes saw wonderful scenes that were very, very -foreign to Clearfield. The sunlight stole away from the windows and the -shadows gathered in the little yard. The room grew dark. - -Just how long Perry would have sat there and dreamed of far-spread -prairies and dawn-flushed deserts and awesome cañons had not an -interruption occurred, there’s no saying. Probably, though, until his -mother summoned him to the Sunday night supper. And that, since it was -a frugal repast of cold dishes and awaited the Doctor’s presence, might -not have been announced until seven o’clock. What did rouse him from -his dreaming was the sudden appearance of a light in one of the third -floor windows of the brick building. It shone for a moment only, for a -hand almost immediately pulled down a shade, but its rays were bright -enough to interrupt the boy’s visions and bring his thoughts confusedly -back. - -When you’ve been picturing yourself a cowboy on the Western plains, -a cowboy with a picturesque broad-brimmed sombrero, leather chaps, -a flannel shirt and a handkerchief knotted about your neck, it is -naturally a bit surprising to suddenly see just such a vision before -your eyes. And that’s what happened to Perry. No sooner was the shade -drawn at the opposite window than upon it appeared the silhouette -of as cowboyish a cowboy as ever rode through sage-brush! Evidently -the light was in the center of the room and the occupant was standing -between light and window, standing so that for a brief moment his -figure was thrown in sharp relief against the shade, and Perry, staring -unbelievingly, saw the black shadow of a broad felt hat whose crown -was dented to a pyramid shape, a face with clean-cut features and a -generous mustache and, behind the neck, the knot of a handkerchief! -Doubtless the flannel shirt was there, too, and, perhaps, the leather -cuffs properly decorated with porcupine quills, but Perry couldn’t be -sure of this, for before he had time to look below the knotted bandana -the silhouette wavered, lengthened oddly and faded from sight, leaving -Perry for an instant doubtful of his vision! - -“Now what do you know about that?” he murmured. “A regular cowboy, by -ginger! What’s he doing over there, I wonder. And here I was thinking -about him! Anyway, about cowboys! Gee, that’s certainly funny! I wish -I could have seen if he wore a revolver on his hip! Maybe he’ll come -back.” - -But he didn’t show himself again, although Perry sat on in the darkness -of his little room for the better part of a half-hour, staring eagerly -and fascinatedly at the lighted window across the twilight. The shade -still made a yellowish oblong in the surrounding gloom of the otherwise -blank wall when his mother’s voice came to him from below summoning him -to supper and he left his vigil unwillingly and went downstairs. - -Dr. Hull had returned and supper was waiting on the red cloth that -always adorned the table on Sunday nights. Perry was so full of -his strange coincidence that he hardly waited for the Doctor to -finish saying grace before he told about the vision. Rather to his -disappointment, neither his father nor mother showed much interest, but -perhaps that was because he neglected to tell them that he had been -thinking of cowboys at the time. There was no special reason why he -should have told them other than that he suspected his mother of a lack -of sympathy on the subject of cowboys and the Wild West. - -“I guess,” said the Doctor, helping to the cold roast lamb and having -quite an exciting chase along the back of the platter in pursuit of a -runaway sprig of parsley, “I guess your cowboy would have looked like -most anyone else if you’d had a look at him. Shadows play queer tricks, -Perry.” - -Dr. Hull was tall and thin, and he stooped quite perceptibly. Perhaps -the stoop came from carrying his black bag about day after day, for -the Doctor had never attained to the dignity of a carriage. When -he had to have one he hired it from Stewart, the liveryman. He had -a kindly face, but he usually looked tired and had a disconcerting -habit of dropping off to sleep in the middle of a conversation or, -not infrequently, half-way through a meal. Perry was not unlike his -father as to features. He had the same rather short and very straight -nose and the same nice mouth, but he had obtained his brown eyes from -his mother. Dr. Hull’s eyes were pale blue-gray and he had a fashion -of keeping them only a little more than half open, which added to his -appearance of weariness. He always dressed in a suit of dark clothes -which looked black without actually being black. For years he had had -his suits made for him by the same unstylish little tailor who dwelt, -like a spider in a hole, under the Union Restaurant on Common Street. -Whether the suits, one of which was made every spring, all came off the -same bolt of cloth, I can’t say, but it’s a fact that Mrs. Hull had to -study long to make out which was this year’s suit and which last’s. On -Sunday evenings, however, the Doctor donned a faded and dearly-loved -house-jacket of black velveteen with frayed silk frogs, for on Sunday -evenings he kept no consultation hours and made no calls if he could -possibly help it. - -In spite of Perry’s efforts, the cowboy was soon abandoned as a subject -for conversation. The Doctor was satisfied that Perry had imagined the -likeness and Mrs. Hull couldn’t see why a cowboy hadn’t as much right -in the neighboring building as anyone. Perry’s explanations failed -to convince her of the incongruity of a cowboy in Clearfield, for -she replied mildly that she quite distinctly remembered having seen -at least a half-dozen cowboys going along Main Street a year or two -before, the time the circus was in town! - -“Maybe,” chuckled the Doctor, “this cowboy got left behind then!” - -Perry refused to accept the explanation, and as soon as supper was over -he hurried upstairs again. But the light across the back-yard was out -and he returned disappointedly to the sitting-room, convinced that the -mystery would never be explained. His father had settled himself in the -green rep easy chair, with his feet on a foot-rest, and was smoking -his big meerschaum pipe that had a bowl shaped like a skull. The -Doctor had had that pipe since his student days, and Perry suspected -that, next to his mother and himself, it was the most prized of the -Doctor’s possessions. The Sunday papers lay spread across his knees, -but he wasn’t reading, and Perry seized on the opportunity presented -to broach the matter of going in for the Track Team. There had been -some difficulty in the fall in persuading his parents to consent to his -participation in football, and he wasn’t sure that they would look any -more kindly on other athletic endeavors. His mother was still busy in -the kitchen, for he could hear the dishes rattling, and he was glad of -it; it was his mother who looked with most disfavor on such things. - -“Dad, I’m going to join the Track Team and try sprinting,” announced -Perry carelessly. - -The Doctor brought his thoughts back with a visible effort. - -“Eh?” he asked. “Join what?” - -“The Track Team, sir. At school. I think I can sprint a little and I’d -like to try it. Maybe I won’t be good enough, but Fudge Shaw says I am, -and――――” - -“Sprinting, eh?” The Doctor removed his pipe and rubbed the bowl -carefully with the purple silk handkerchief that reposed in an inner -pocket of his house-jacket. “Think you’re strong enough for that, do -you?” - -“Why, yes, sir! I tried it to-day and didn’t have any trouble. And the -track was awfully wet, too.” - -“To-day?” The Doctor’s brows went up. “Sunday?” - -Perry hastened to explain and was cheered by a slight smile which -hovered under his father’s drooping mustache when he pictured Fudge -trying to be at both ends of the hundred-yards at once. “You see, dad, -I can’t play baseball well enough, and I’d like to do something. I -ought to anyway, just to keep in training for football next autumn. I -wouldn’t wonder if I got to be regular quarter-back next season.” - -“Sprinting,” observed the Doctor, tucking his handkerchief out of sight -again, “makes big demands on the heart muscles, Perry. I’ve no reason -for supposing that your heart isn’t as strong as the average, but I -recall in my college days a case where a boy over-worked himself in a -race, the quarter-mile, I think it was, and never was good for much -afterwards. He was in my class, and his name was――dear, dear, now what -was it? Well, it doesn’t matter. Anyway, that’s what you’ll have to -guard against, Perry.” - -“But if I began mighty easy, the way you do, and worked up to it, -sir――――” - -“Oh, I dare say it won’t hurt you. Exercise in moderation is always -beneficial. It’s putting sudden demands on yourself that does the -damage. With proper training, going at it slowly, day by day, you -know――well, we’ll see what your mother says.” - -Perry frowned and moved impatiently on the couch. “Yes, sir, but you -know mother always finds objections to my doing things like that. You’d -think I was a regular invalid! Other fellows run and jump and play -football and their folks don’t think anything of it. But mother――――” - -“Come, come, Perry! That’ll do, son. Your mother is naturally anxious -about you. You see, there’s only one of you, and we――well, we don’t -want any harm to come to you.” - -“Yes, sir,” said Perry, more meekly. “Only I thought if you’d say it -was all right, before she comes in――――” - -The Doctor chuckled. “Oh, that’s your little game, is it? No, no, we’ll -talk it over with your mother. She’s sensible, Perry, and I dare say -she won’t make any objections; that is, if you promise to be careful.” - -“Yes, sir. Why, there’s a regular trainer, you know, and the fellows -have to do just as he tells them to.” - -“Who is the trainer?” - -“‘Skeet’ Presser, sir. He’s――――” - -“Skeet?” - -“That’s what they call him. He’s small and skinny, sort of like a -mosquito. I guess that’s why. I don’t know what his real name is. He -used to be a runner; a jim-dandy, too, they say. He’s trainer at the Y. -M. C. A. I guess he’s considered pretty good. And very careful, sir.” -Perry added that as a happy afterthought. - -The Doctor smiled. “I guess we ought to make a diplomat out of you, -son, instead of a doctor.” - -“I don’t think I’ll be a doctor, dad.” - -“You don’t? I thought you did.” - -“I used to, but I――I’ve sort of changed my mind.” - -“Diplomats do that, too, I believe. Well, I dare say you’re right about -it. It doesn’t look as if I’d have much of a practice to hand over -to you, anyway. It’s getting so nowadays about every second case is -a charity case. About all you get is gratitude, and not always that. -Here’s your mother now. Mother, this boy wants to go in for athletics, -he tells me. Wants to run races and capture silver mugs. Or maybe -they’re pewter. What do you say to it?” - -“Gracious, what for?” ejaculated Mrs. Hull. - -Perry stated his case again while his mother took the green tobacco -jar from the mantel and placed it within the Doctor’s reach, plumped -up a pillow on the couch, picked a thread from the worn red carpet and -finally, with a little sigh, seated herself in the small walnut rocker -that was her especial property. When Perry had finished, his mother -looked across at the Doctor. - -“What does your father think?” she asked. - -“Oh, I think it won’t do him any harm,” was the reply from the Doctor. -“Might be good for him, in fact. I tell him he must be careful not to -attempt too much at first, that’s all. Running is good exercise if it -isn’t overdone.” - -“Well, it seems to me,” observed Mrs. Hull, “that if he can play -football and not get maimed for life, a little running can’t hurt him. -How far would it be, Perry?” - -“Oh, only about from here to the corner and back.” - -“Well, I don’t see much sense in it, but if you want to do it I haven’t -any objection. It doesn’t seem as if much could happen to you just -running to G Street and back!” - -The Doctor chuckled. “It might be good practice when it comes to -running errands, mother. Maybe he’ll be able to get to the grocery and -back the same afternoon!” - -“Well,” laughed Perry, “you see, dad, when you’re running on the track -you don’t meet fellows who want you to stop and play marbles with -them!” - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE ODE TO SPRING - - -With the advent of that first warm spring-like weather the High School -athletic activities began in earnest. During March the baseball -candidates had practiced to some extent indoors and occasionally on -the field, but not a great deal had been accomplished. The “cage” in -the basement of the school building was neither large nor light, while -cold weather, with rain and wet ground, had made outdoor work far from -satisfactory. Of the Baseball Team, Clearfield had high hopes this -spring. There was a wealth of material left from the successful Nine -of the previous spring, including two first-class pitchers, while the -captain, Warner Jones, was a good leader as well as a brainy player. -Then too, and in the judgment of the school this promised undoubted -success, the coaching had been placed in the hands of Dick Lovering. -Dick had proven his ability as a baseball coach the summer before and -had subsequently piloted the football team to victory in the fall, -thus winning an admiration and gratitude almost embarrassing to him. - -Dick, who had to swing about on crutches where other fellows went on -two good legs, came out of school Monday afternoon in company with -Lansing White and crossed over to Linden Street where a small blue -runabout car stood at the curb. Dick was tall, with dark hair and eyes. -Without being especially handsome, his rather lean face was attractive -and he had a smile that won friends on the instant. Dick was seventeen -and a senior. Lansing, or Lanny, White was a year younger, and a good -deal of a contrast to his companion. Lanny fairly radiated health and -strength and high spirits. You’re not to conclude that Dick suggested -ill-health or that he was low-spirited, for that would be far from -the mark. There was possibly no more cheerful boy in Clearfield than -Richard Lovering, in spite of his infirmity. But Lanny, with his flaxen -hair and dark eyes――a combination as odd as it was attractive――and his -sun-browned skin and his slimly muscular figure, looked the athlete -he was, every inch of him. Lanny was a “three-letter man” at the High -School; had captained the football team, caught on the nine and was a -sprinter of ability. And, which was no small attainment, he possessed -more friends than any other fellow in school. Lanny couldn’t help -making friends; he appeared to do it without conscious effort; there -had never been on his part any seeking for popularity. - -Lanny cranked the car and seated himself beside Dick. Fully half the -students were journeying toward the field, either to take part in -practice or to watch it, and the two boys in the runabout answered many -hails until they had distanced the pedestrians. - -“This,” said Lanny, as they circumspectly crossed the car-tracks and -turned into Main Street, “is just the sort of weather the doctor -ordered. If it keeps up we’ll really get started.” - -“This is April, though,” replied Dick, “and everyone knows April!” - -“Oh, we’ll have more showers, but once the field gets dried out -decently they don’t matter. I suppose it’ll be pretty squishy out there -to-day. What we ought to do, Dick, is have the whole field rolled right -now while it’s still soft. It’s awfully rough in right field, and even -the infield isn’t what you’d call a billiard table.” - -“Wish we could, Lanny. But I guess if we get the base paths fixed up -we’ll get all that’s coming to us this spring. Too bad we haven’t a -little money on hand.” - -“Oh, I know we can’t look to the Athletic Association for much. I was -only wondering if we couldn’t get it done somehow ourselves. If we -knew someone who had a steam roller we might borrow it!” - -“The town has a couple,” laughed Dick, “but I’m afraid they wouldn’t -loan them.” - -“Why not? Say, that’s an idea, Dick! Who do you borrow town property -from, anyway? The Mayor?” - -“Street Department, I guess. Tell Way to go and see them, why don’t -you?” - -“Way” was Curtis Wayland, manager of the baseball team. Lanny smiled. -“Joking aside,” he said, “they might do it, mightn’t they? Don’t they -ever loan things?” - -“Maybe, but you’d have to have the engineer or chauffeur or whatever -they call him to run it for you, and that would be a difficulty.” - -“Pshaw, anyone could run a steam roller! You could, anyway.” - -“Can’t you see me?” chuckled Dick. “Suppose, though, I got nabbed for -exceeding the speed limit? I guess, Lanny, if that field gets rolled -this spring it will be done by old-fashioned man-power. We might borrow -a roller somewhere and get a lot of the fellows out and have them take -turns pushing it.” - -“It would take a week of Sundays,” replied Lanny discouragingly. “You -wait. I’m not finished with that other scheme yet.” - -“Borrowing a roller from the town, you mean? Well, I’ve no objection, -but don’t ask me to run it. I’d be sure to put it through the fence or -something; and goodness knows we need all the fence we’ve got!” - -“Yes, it’ll be a miracle if it doesn’t fall down if anyone hits a ball -against it!” - -“If it happens in the Springdale game you’ll hear no complaint from -me,” said Dick, adding hurriedly, “That is, if it’s one of our team who -does it!” - -“Ever think of putting a sign on the fence in center field?” asked -Lanny. “‘Hit This Sign and Get Ten Dollars,’ or something of that sort, -you know. It might increase the team’s average a lot, Dick.” - -“You’re full of schemes to-day, aren’t you? Does that fence look to -you as if it would stand being hit very often?” They had turned into A -Street and the block-long expanse of sagging ten-foot fence stretched -beside them. “I’ve about concluded that being presented with an -athletic field is like getting a white elephant in your stocking at -Christmas!” - -“Gee, this field is two white elephants and a pink hippopotamus,” -replied Lanny as he jumped out in front of the players’ gate. Dick -turned off the engine and thoughtfully removed the plug from the dash -coil, thus foiling youngsters with experimental desires. His crutches -were beside him on the running-board, and, lifting them from the wire -clips that held them there, he deftly swung himself from the car and -passed through the gate. They were the first ones to arrive, but before -they had returned to the dressing-room under the nearer grandstand -after a pessimistic examination of the playing field, others had -begun to dribble in and a handful of youths were arranging themselves -comfortably on the seats behind first base. But if the audience -expected anything of a spectacular nature this afternoon they were -disappointed, for the practice was of the most elementary character. - -There was a half-hour at the net with Tom Nostrand and Tom Haley -pitching straight balls to the batters and then another half-hour -of fielding, Bert Cable, last year’s captain and now a sort of -self-appointed assistant coach, hitting fungoes to outfielders, and -Curtis Wayland, manager of the team, batting to the infield. The forty -or fifty onlookers in the stands soon lost interest when it was evident -that Coach Lovering had no intention of staging any sort of a contest, -and by ones and twos they took their departure. Even had they all gone, -however, the field would have been far from empty, for there were -nearly as many team candidates as spectators to-day. More than forty -ambitious youths had responded to the call and it required all the -ingenuity of Dick Lovering and Captain Warner Jones to give each one a -chance. The problem was finally solved by sending a bunch of tyros into -extreme left field, under charge of Manager Wayland, where they fielded -slow grounders and pop-flies and tested their throwing arms. - -It was while chasing a ball that had got by him that Way noticed a -fluttering sheet of paper near the cinder track. It had been creased -and folded, but now lay flat open, challenging curiosity. Way picked -it up and glanced at it as he returned to his place. It held all sorts -of scrawls and scribbles, but the words “William Butler Shaw,” and the -letters “W. B. S.,” variously arranged and entwined, were frequently -repeated. Occupying the upper part of the sheet were six or seven lines -of what, since the last words rhymed with each other, Way concluded to -be poetry. Since many of the words had been scored out and superseded -by others, and since the writing was none too legible in any case, Way -had to postpone the reading of the complete poem. He stuffed it in his -pocket, with a chuckle, and went back to amusing his awkward squad. - -Fudge Shaw sat on the bench between Felker and Grover and awaited his -turn in the outfield. Fudge had played in center some, but he was not -quite Varsity material, so to speak, and his hopes of making even the -second team, which would be formed presently, from what coach and -captain rejected, were not strong. Still, Fudge “liked to stick around -where things were doing,” as he expressed it, and he accepted his -impending fate with philosophy. Besides, he had more than half made -up his mind to cast his lot with the Track Team this spring. He was -discussing the gentle art of putting the twelve-pound shot with Guy -Felker when Dick summoned the outfield trio in and sent Fudge and two -others to take their places. Fudge trotted out to center and set about -his task of pulling down Bert Cable’s flies. Perhaps his mind was too -full of shot-putting to allow him to give the needed attention to the -work at hand. At all events, he managed to judge his first ball so -badly that it went six feet over his head and was fielded in by one -of Way’s squad. Way was laughing when Fudge turned toward him after -throwing the ball to the batter. - -“A fellow needs a pair of smoked glasses out here,” called Fudge -extenuatingly. This, in view of the fact that the sun was behind -Fudge’s right shoulder, was a lamentably poor excuse. Possibly he -realized it, for he added: “My eyes have been awfully weak lately.” - -Way, meeting the ball gently with his bat and causing a wild commotion -amongst his fielders, nodded soberly. “And for many other reasons,” he -called across. - -“Eh?” asked Fudge puzzled. But there was no time for more just then -as Bert Cable, observing his inattention, meanly shot a long low fly -into left field, and Fudge, starting late, had to run half-way to the -fence in order to attempt the catch. Of course he missed it and then, -when he had chased it down, made matters worse by throwing at least -twelve feet to the left of Cable on the return. The ex-captain glared -contemptuously and shouted some scathing remark that Fudge didn’t hear. -After that, he got along fairly well, sustaining a bruised finger, -however, as a memento of the day’s activities. When practice was over -he trudged back to the dressing-room and got into his street clothes. -Fortunately, most of the new fellows had dressed at home and so it -was possible to find room in which to squirm out of things without -collisions. While Fudge was lacing his shoes he observed that Way and -his particular crony, Will Scott, who played third base, were unusually -hilarious in a far corner of the room. - -But Fudge was unsuspicious, and presently he found himself walking home -with the pair. - -“Say, this is certainly peachy weather, isn’t it?” inquired Will as -they turned into B Street. “Aren’t you crazy about spring, Way?” - -“Am I? Well, rather! O beauteous spring!” - -“So am I. You know it makes the birds sing in the trees.” - -“Sure. And it makes the April breeze to blow.” - -“What’s wrong with you chaps?” asked Fudge perplexedly. The strange -words struck him as dimly familiar but he didn’t yet connect them with -their source. - -“Fudge,” replied Way sadly, “I fear you have no poetry in your soul. -Doesn’t the spring awaken――er――awaken feelings in your breast? Don’t -you feel the――the appeal of the sunshine and the singing birds and all -that?” - -“You’re batty,” said Fudge disgustedly. - -“Now for my part,” said Will Scott, “spring art, I ween, the best of -all the seasons.” - -“Now you’re saying something,” declared Way enthusiastically. “It -clothes the earth with green――――” - -“And for numerous other reasons,” added Will gravely. - -A great light broke on Fudge and his rotund cheeks took on a vivid -tinge. “W-w-what you s-s-silly chumps think you’re up to?” he demanded. -“W-w-where did you g-g-g-get that st-t-t-tuff?” - -“Stuff!” exclaimed Way protestingly. “That’s poetry, Fudge. Gen-oo-ine -poetry. Want to hear it all?” - -“No, I don’t!” - -But Will had already started declaiming and Way chimed in: - - “O Beauteous Spring, thou art, I ween, - The best of all the Seasons, - Because you clothe the Earth with green - And for numerous other reasons!” - -“I hope you ch-ch-choke!” groaned Fudge. “W-w-where’d you get it? Who -t-t-told you――――” - -“Fudge,” replied Way, laughingly, “you shouldn’t leave your poetic -effusions around the landscape if you don’t want them read.” He pulled -the sheet of paper from his pocket and flaunted it temptingly just out -of reach. “‘You make the birds sing in the trees――――’” - -“‘The April breeze to blow,’” continued Will. - -“‘The sun to shine――――’ What’s the rest of it, Fudge? Say, it’s -corking! It’s got a swing to it that’s simply immense!” - -“And then the sentiment, the poetic feeling!” elaborated Will. “How do -you do it, Fudge?” - -“Aw, q-q-quit it, fellows, and g-g-g-give me that!” begged Fudge -shame-facedly. “I just did it for f-f-fun. It d-d-dropped out of my -p-p-p――――” - -But “pocket” was too much for Fudge in his present state of mind, -and he gave up the effort and tried to get the sheet of paper away. -He succeeded finally, by the time they had reached Lafayette Street, -where their ways parted, and tore it to small bits and dropped it into -someone’s hedge. Way and Will departed joyfully, and until they were -out of earshot Fudge could hear them declaiming the “Ode to Spring.” -He went home a prey to a deep depression. He feared that he had by no -means heard the last of the unfortunate poetical effort. And, as the -future proved, his fears were far from groundless. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -PERRY REMEMBERS - - -Fudge had an engagement to go to the moving pictures that evening -with Perry Hull. They put on the new reels on Mondays and Fudge was a -devoted “first-nighter.” Very shortly after supper was over he picked -up a book and carelessly strolled toward the hall. - -“Where are you going, William?” asked his mother. - -“Over to the library,” replied Fudge, making a strong display of the -book in his hand. - -“Well, don’t stay late. Haven’t you any studying to do to-night?” - -“No’m, not much. I’ll do it when I come back.” - -“Seems to me,” said Mrs. Shaw doubtfully, “it would be better to do -your studying first.” - -“I don’t feel like studying so soon after supper,” returned Fudge -plaintively. “I won’t be gone very long――I guess.” - -“Very well, dear. Close the door after you. It’s downright chilly again -to-night.” - -“Yes’m.” Fudge slipped his cap to the back of his round head and -opened the side door. There he hesitated. Of course, he was going to -the library, although he didn’t especially want to, for it was many -blocks out of his way, but he meant to make his visit to that place -as short as possible in order to call for Perry and reach the theater -early enough not to miss a single feature of the evening’s program. -And he was practically telling a lie. Fudge didn’t like that. He felt -decidedly uneasy as he stood with the door knob in hand. The trouble -was that his mother didn’t look kindly on moving pictures. She didn’t -consider them harmful, but she did think them a waste of time, and was -firmly convinced that once a month was quite often enough for Fudge to -indulge his passion for that form of entertainment. Fudge had a severe -struggle out there in the hallway, and I like to think that he would -have eventually decided to make known his principal destination had not -Mrs. Shaw unfortunately interrupted his cogitations. - -“William, have you gone?” - -“No’m.” - -“Well, don’t hold the door open, please. I feel a draft on my feet.” - -“Yes’m.” Fudge slowly closed the door, with himself on the outside. -The die was cast. He tried to comfort himself with the assurance that -if his mother hadn’t spoken just when she did he would have asked -permission to go to the “movies.” It wasn’t his fault. He passed out -of the yard whistling blithely enough, but before he had reached the -corner the whistle had died away. He wished he had told the whole -truth. He was more than half inclined to go back, but it was getting -later every minute and he had to walk eight blocks to the library and -five back to the theater, and it would take him several minutes to -exchange his book, and Perry might not be ready―――― - -Fudge was so intent on all this that he passed the front of the Merrick -house, on the corner, without, as usual, announcing his transit with -a certain peculiar whistle common to him and his friends. He walked -hurriedly, determinedly, trying to keep his thoughts on the pleasure -in store, hoping they’d have a rattling good melodrama on the bill -to-night and would present less of the “sentimental rot” than was -their custom. But Conscience stalked at Fudge’s side, and the further -he got from home the more uncomfortable he felt in his mind; and his -thoughts refused to stay placed on the “movies.” But while he paused in -crossing G Street to let one of the big yellow cars trundle past him -a splendid idea came to him. He would telephone! There was a booth in -the library, and if he had a nickel――quick examination of his change -showed that he was possessed of eleven cents beyond the sum required to -purchase admission to the theater. With a load off his mind, he hurried -on faster than ever, ran across the library grounds with no heed to -the “Keep off the Grass” signs and simply hurtled through the swinging -green doors. - -It was the work of only a minute or two to seize a book from the rack -on the counter――it happened to be a treatise on the Early Italian -Painters, but Fudge didn’t care――and make the exchange. The assistant -librarian looked somewhat surprised at Fudge’s choice, but secretly -hoped that it indicated a departure from the sensational fiction -usually selected by the boy, and passed the volume across to him at -last with an approving smile. Fudge was too impatient to see the smile, -however. The book once in his possession, he hurried to the telephone -booth in the outer hall and demanded his number. Then a perfectly good -five-cent piece dropped forever out of his possession and he heard his -mother’s voice at the other end of the line. - -“This is Fudge. Say, Ma, I thought――I’m at the library, Ma, and I got -the book I wanted, and I thought, seeing it’s so early――say, Ma, may I -go to the movies for a little while?” - -“You intended to go all the time, didn’t you, William?” came his -mother’s voice. - -“Yes’m, but――――” - -“Why didn’t you tell me?” - -That was something of a poser. “Well, I meant to, but――but you said not -to keep the door open and――and――――” Fudge’s voice dwindled into silence. - -“Why do you tell me now?” - -Gee, but she certainly could ask a lot of hard questions, he reflected. -“I thought maybe――oh, I don’t know, Ma. May I? Just for a little while? -I’m going with Perry――if you say I can.” - -“I’d rather you told me in the first place, William, but telling me now -shows that you know you did wrong. You mustn’t tell lies, William, and -when you said you were going to the library――――” - -“Yes’m, I know!” Fudge was shifting impatiently from one foot to the -other, his eyes fixed on the library clock, seen through an oval pane -in one of the green baize doors. “I――I’m sorry. Honest, I am. That’s -why I telephoned, Ma.” - -“If I let you go to-night you won’t ask to go again next week?” - -“No’m,” replied Fudge dejectedly. - -“Very well, then you may go. And you needn’t leave before it’s over, -William, because if you don’t go next week you might as well see all -you can this time.” - -“Yes’m! Thanks! Good-by!” - -Fudge knew a short cut from Ivy Street to G Street, and that saved -nearly a minute even though it necessitated climbing a high fence and -trespassing on someone’s premises. He reached Perry’s and, to his vast -relief, found that youth awaiting him at the gate. Perry was slightly -surprised to be hailed from the direction opposite to that in which he -was looking, but joined Fudge at the corner and, in response to the -latter’s earnest and somewhat breathless appeal to “Get a move on,” -accompanied him rapidly along the next block. Just as they came into -sight of the brilliantly illumined front of the moving picture house, -eight o’clock began to sound on the City Hall bell and Fudge broke into -a run. - -“Come on!” he panted. “We’ll be late!” - -They weren’t, though. The orchestra was still dolefully tuning up as -they found seats. The orchestra consisted principally of a pianist, -although four other musicians were arranged lonesomely on either side. -The two boys were obliged to sit well over toward the left of the house -and when the orchestra began the overture Fudge’s gaze, attracted to -the performers, stopped interestedly at the pianist. “Say, Perry,” he -said, “they’ve got a new guy at the piano. See?” - -Perry looked and nodded. Then he took a second look and frowned -puzzledly. “Who is he?” he asked. - -“I don’t know. But the other fellow was short and fat. Say, I hope they -have a good melodrama, don’t you?” - -“Yes, one of those Western plays, eh?” Perry’s gaze went back to -the man at the piano. There was something about him that awakened -recollection. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man of twenty-six or --seven, with clear-cut and very good-looking features, and a luxuriant -mustache, as Perry could see when he turned to smile at one of the -violinists. He played the piano as though he thoroughly enjoyed it, -swaying a little from the hips and sometimes emphasizing with a sudden -swift bend of his head. - -“He can play all around the other guy,” said Fudge in low and admiring -whispers. “Wish I could play a piano like that. I’ll bet he can ‘rag’ -like anything!” - -At that moment the house darkened and the program commenced with -the customary weekly review. Fudge sat through some ten minutes of -that patiently, and was only slightly bored when a rustic comedy was -unrolled before him, but when the next film developed into what he -disdainfully called “one of those mushy things,” gloom began to settle -over his spirits. He squirmed impatiently in his seat and muttered -protestingly. A sharp-faced, elderly lady next to him audibly requested -him to “sit still, for Mercy’s sake!” Fudge did the best he could and -virtue was rewarded after a while. “Royston of the Rangers,” announced -the film. Fudge sat up, devoured the cast that followed and, while the -orchestra burst into a jovial two-step, nudged Perry ecstatically. - -“Here’s your Western play,” he whispered. - -Perry nodded. Then the first scene swept on the screen and Fudge was -happy. It was a quickly-moving, breath-taking drama, and the hero, a -Texas Ranger, bore a charmed life if anyone ever did. He simply had to. -If he hadn’t he’d have been dead before the film had unrolled a hundred -feet! Perry enjoyed that play even more than Fudge, perhaps, for he was -still enthralled by yesterday’s dreams. There were rangers and cowboys -and Mexicans and a sheriff’s posse and many other picturesque persons, -and “battle, murder and sudden death” was the order of the day. During -a running fight between galloping rangers and a band of Mexican -desperados Fudge almost squirmed off his chair to the floor. After that -there was a really funny “comic” and that, in turn, was followed by -another melodrama which, if not as hair-raising as the first, brought -much satisfaction to Fudge. On the whole, it was a pretty good show. -Fudge acknowledged it as he and Perry wormed their way out through the -loitering audience at the end of the performance. - -They discussed it as they made their way along to Castle’s Drug Store -where Perry was to treat to sodas. For Fudge at least half the fun was -found in talking the show over afterwards. He was a severe critic, -and if the manager of the theater could have heard his remarks about -the “mushy” film he might have been moved to exclude such features -thereafter. When they had had their sodas and had turned back toward -Perry’s house, Perry suddenly stood stock-still on the sidewalk and -ejaculated: “Gee, I know where I saw him!” - -“Saw who?” demanded Fudge. “Come on, you chump.” - -“Why, the fellow who played the piano. I’ll bet you anything he’s the -cowboy!” - -“You try cold water,” said Fudge soothingly. “Just wet a towel and put -it around your head――――” - -“No, listen, will you, Fudge? I want to tell you.” So Perry recounted -the odd coincidence of the preceding evening, ending with: “And I’ll -bet you anything you like that’s the same fellow who was playing the -piano there to-night. I recognized him, I tell you, only I couldn’t -think at first.” - -“Well, he didn’t look like a cowboy to-night,” replied Fudge dubiously. -“Besides, what would he be doing here? This isn’t any place for -cowboys. I guess you kind of imagined that part of it. Maybe he had on -a felt hat; I don’t say he didn’t; but I guess you imagined the rest of -it. It――it’s psychological, Perry. You were thinking about cowboys and -such things and then this fellow appeared at the window and you thought -he was dressed like one.” - -“No, I didn’t. I tell you I could see the handkerchief around his neck -and――and everything! I don’t say he really is a cowboy, but I know -mighty well he was dressed like one. And I know he’s the fellow we saw -playing the piano.” - -“Oh, shucks, cowboys don’t play pianos, Perry. Besides, what does it -matter anyway?” - -“Nothing, I suppose, only――only it’s sort of funny. I’d like to know -why he was got up like a cowboy.” - -“Why don’t you ask him? Tell you what we’ll do, Perry, we’ll go up -there to-morrow after the show’s over and lay in wait for him.” - -“Up to his room? I wonder if he has an office. Maybe he gives lessons, -Fudge.” - -“What sort of lessons?” - -“Piano lessons. Why would he have an office?” - -“Search me. But we’ll find out. We’ll put ‘Young Sleuth’ on his trail. -Maybe there’s a mystery about him. I’ll drop around after practice -to-morrow and we’ll trail him down. Say, what about the Track Team? -Thought you were going to join.” - -“I was. Only――oh, I got to thinking maybe I couldn’t run very fast, -after all.” - -“Piffle! We’ll have another trial, then. I’ll get Gordon to hold the -watch at the start and I’ll time you at the finish. What do you say? -Want to try it to-morrow?” - -“No, I’d feel like a fool,” muttered Perry. “Maybe I’ll register -to-morrow, anyway. I dare say it won’t do any harm even if I find I -can’t sprint much. What about you and putting the shot?” - -“I’m going to try for it, I guess. Baseball’s no good for me. They -won’t even give me a place on the Second, I suppose. Guess I’ll talk to -Felker about it to-morrow. You’re silly if you don’t have a try at it, -Perry. You’ve got the making of a dandy sprinter; you mark my words!” - -“If you’ll register for the team, I will,” said Perry. - -“All right! It’s a bargain!” - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -THE FALSE MUSTACHE - - -“Well?” asked Lanny. - -Curtis Wayland shook his head and smiled. “He thought I was fooling at -first. Then he thought I was crazy. After that he just pitied me for -not having any sense.” - -“I’ve pitied you all my life for that,” laughed Lanny. “But what did he -say?” - -“Said in order for him to let us have the use of town property he’d -have to introduce a bill or something in the Council and have it passed -and signed by the Mayor and sworn to by the Attorney and sealed by the -Sealer and――and――――” - -“And stamped by the stamper?” suggested Dick Lovering helpfully. - -“Cut out the comedy stuff,” said Lanny. “He just won’t do it, eh?” - -“That’s what I gathered,” Way assented dryly. “And if, in my official -capacity of――――” - -“Or incapacity,” interpolated Lanny sweetly. - -Way scowled fearsomely. “If in my capacity of manager of this team,” he -resumed with dignity, “I’m required to go on any more idiotic errands -like that I’m going to resign. I may be crazy and foolish, but I hate -to have folks mention it.” - -“We’re all touchy on our weak points,” said Lanny kindly. “Well, I -suppose you did the best you could, Way, but I’m blessed if I see how -it would hurt them to let us use their old road roller.” - -“He also dropped some careless remark about the expense of running it,” -observed Way, “from which I gathered that, even if he did let us take -it, he meant to sock us about fifteen dollars a day!” - -“Who is he?” Dick asked. - -“He’s Chairman or something of the Street Department.” - -“Superintendent of Streets,” corrected Way. “I saw it on the door.” - -“I mean,” explained Dick, “what’s his name?” - -“Oh, Burns. He’s Ned Burns’ father.” - -“Uncle,” corrected Way. - -“Could Burns have done anything with him, do you suppose?” Dick asked -thoughtfully. - -“I don’t believe so. The man is deficient in public spirit and lacking -in――in charitable impulse, or something.” Lanny frowned intently at Way -until the latter said: - -“Out with it! What’s on your mind?” - -“Nothing much. Only――well, that field certainly needs a good rolling.” - -“It certainly does,” assented Way. “But if you’re hinting for me to go -back and talk to that man again――――” - -“I’m not. The time for asking has passed. We gave them a chance to be -nice about it and they wouldn’t. Now it’s up to us.” - -“Right-o, old son! What are we going to do about it?” - -Lanny smiled mysteriously. “You just hold your horses and see,” he -replied. “I guess the crowd’s here, Dick. Shall we start things up?” - -“Yes, let’s get at it. Hello, Fudge!” - -“Hello, fellers! Say, Dick, I’m quitting.” - -“Quitting? Oh, baseball, you mean. What’s the trouble?” - -“Oh, I’m not good enough and there’s no use my hanging around, I guess. -I’m going out for the Track Team to-morrow. I thought I’d let you know.” - -“Thanks. Well, I’m sorry, Fudge, but you’re right about it. You aren’t -quite ready for the team yet. Maybe next year――――” - -“That’s what I thought. Lanny’ll be gone then and maybe I’ll catch for -you.” - -“That’s nice of you,” laughed Lanny. “I was worried about what was -going to happen after I’d left. Meanwhile, though, Fudge, what -particular stunt are you going to do on the Track Team?” - -“Weights, I guess. Perry Hull’s going out for the team and he dared me -to. Think I could put the shot, Dick?” - -“I really don’t know, Fudge. It wouldn’t take you long to find out, -though. You’re pretty strong, aren’t you?” - -“I guess so,” replied Fudge quite modestly. “Anyway, Felker’s yelling -for fellows to join and I thought there wouldn’t be any harm in trying.” - -“‘And for many other reasons,’” murmured Way. The others smiled, and -Fudge, with an embarrassed and reproachful glance, hurried away to -where Perry was awaiting him in the stand. - -“Fellows who read other fellows’ things that aren’t meant for them to -read are pretty low-down, I think,” he ruminated. “And I’ll tell him -so, too, if he doesn’t let up.” - -“Don’t you love spring?” asked Perry as Fudge joined him. “It makes――――” - -Fudge turned upon him belligerently. “Here, don’t you start that too!” -he exclaimed warmly. - -“Start what?” gasped Perry. “I only said――――” - -“I heard what you said! Cut it out!” - -“What’s the matter with you?” asked Perry. “Can’t I say that I like -spring if I want to?” - -“And what else were you going to say?” demanded Fudge sternly. - -“That it makes you feel nice and lazy,” replied the other in hurt tones. - -“Oh! Nothing about――about the birds singing or the April breeze?” - -Perry viewed his friend in genuine alarm. “Honest, Fudge, I don’t know -what you’re talking about. Aren’t you well?” - -“Then you haven’t heard it.” Fudge sighed. “Sorry I bit your head off.” - -“Heard what?” asked Perry in pardonable curiosity. - -Fudge hesitated and tried to retreat, but Perry insisted on being -informed, and finally Fudge told about the “Ode to Spring” and the fun -the fellows were having with him. “I get it on all sides,” he said -mournfully. “Tappen passed me a note in Latin class this morning; -wanted to know what the other reasons were. Half the fellows in school -are on to it and I don’t hear anything else. I’m sick of it!” - -Perry’s eyes twinkled, but he expressed proper sympathy, and Fudge -finally consented to forget his grievance and lend a critical eye -to the doings of the baseball candidates. They didn’t remain until -practice was over, however, for, in his capacity of “Young Sleuth,” -Fudge was determined to unravel the mystery of the cowboy-pianist, as -he called the subject for investigation. The afternoon performance at -the moving picture theater was over about half-past four or quarter to -five, and a few minutes after four the two boys left the field and went -back to town. Fudge explained the method of operation on the way. - -“We’ll wait outside the theater,” he said. “I’ll be looking in a window -and you can be on the other side of the street. He mustn’t see us, you -know.” - -“Why?” asked Perry. - -“Because he might suspect.” - -“Suspect what?” - -“Why, that we were on his track,” explained Fudge a trifle impatiently. -“You don’t suppose detectives let the folks they are shadowing know it, -do you?” - -“I don’t see what harm it would do if he saw us. There isn’t anything -for him to get excited about, is there?” - -“You can’t tell. I’ve been thinking a lot about this chap, Perry, -and the more I――the more I study the case the less I like it.” Fudge -frowned intensely. “There’s something mighty suspicious about him, I -think. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d done something.” - -“What do you mean, done something?” - -“Why, committed some crime. Maybe he’s sort of hiding out here. No one -would think of looking for him in a movie theater, would they?” - -“Maybe not, but if they went to the theater they’d be pretty certain to -see him, wouldn’t they?” - -“Huh! He’s probably disguised. I’ll bet that mustache of his is a fake -one.” - -“It didn’t look so,” Perry objected. “What sort of――of crime do you -suppose he committed, Fudge?” - -“Well, he’s pretty slick-looking. I wouldn’t be surprised if he turned -out to be a safe-breaker. Maybe he’s looking for a chance to crack a -safe here in Clearfield; sort of studying the lay of the land, you -know, and seeing where there’s a good chance to get a lot of money. -We might go over to the police station, Perry, and see if there’s -a description of him there. I’ll bet you he’s wanted somewhere for -something all right!” - -“Oh, get out, Fudge! The fellow’s a dandy-looking chap. And even if he -had done something and I knew it, I wouldn’t go and tell on him.” - -“Well, I didn’t say I would, did I? B-b-but there’s no harm in finding -out, is there?” - -Whether Fudge’s watch was slow or whether, absorbed in their -conversation, they consumed more time than they realized on the way, -the City Hall clock proclaimed twenty-two minutes to five when they -reached the Common and, to Fudge’s intense disgust, the theater was -out. The ticket-seller had departed from his glass hutch between the -two doors and the latter were closed. Fudge scowled his displeasure. - -“He’s made his getaway,” he said, “but he can’t escape us long. The -Hand of the Law――――” He paused, his attention attracted by one of the -colorful posters adorning the entrance. “Say, Perry, that’s where the -Mexican tries to throw her off the cliff. Remember? I’d like to see -that again. It’s a corker! Gee, why didn’t we think to come here this -afternoon?” - -“I’d rather wait until Thursday and see some new ones,” replied Perry. -“Come over to the house for a while, Fudge.” - -“Aren’t you going on with this?” asked Fudge surprisedly. - -“Well, he’s gone, hasn’t he?” - -“That doesn’t keep us from having a look at his hiding place, does it? -We’ll go around there and reconnoiter. Come on.” - -But Perry held back. - -“I wouldn’t want him to think we were snooping on him, Fudge.” - -“He won’t know. We’ll just track him to his lair but we won’t let on -we’re after him. It’s a good idea to know where to find him in case we -want him. And we’d ought to find out whether there’s more than one way -for him to get in and out.” - -“I know there is. There’s a front door and a back. The back door lets -out into that little alley next to Cosgrove’s store on Common Street.” - -“Cosgrove’s? Ha!” Fudge stopped abruptly and tried to look as much like -his favorite hero, “Young Sleuth,” as possible. “That’s it, then!” - -“What’s it?” asked Perry impatiently. - -“It’s Cosgrove’s he’s after. Don’t you see?” Cosgrove’s was the -principal jewelry store in Clearfield. “That’s why he rented a room in -that block, Perry. All he’s got to do is to go out the back way to the -alley and there he is!” - -“You’re crazy,” laughed Perry. “You don’t know that the man’s a――a -criminal, do you?” - -“Well, it looks mighty like it,” asserted Fudge, shaking his head in a -very satisfied way. “Everything points to it. We’ll have a look at the -alley first, I guess.” - -The entrance was only a half-block distant and Perry followed his -enthusiastic friend up its narrow length until it stopped at a board -fence beyond which was the back yard of the next house to the Hulls’. -On the way Fudge paid much attention to the three barred windows of -Cosgrove’s store. - -“See if you see signs of a file,” he whispered to Perry. “That’s what -he’d probably do; come down here at night and file the bars away. Maybe -we’d better go into the store and see where the safe is located.” - -“If you don’t stop tugging at those bars we’ll get pinched,” objected -Perry. He was losing his interest in the affair and had begun to think -Fudge’s sleuthing rather tiresome. Besides, it was getting sort of -dark in the little alley and he had already collided painfully with -an ash-barrel. He was relieved when Fudge finally satisfied himself -that so far, at least, the bars of the jewelry store windows had not -been tampered with. Fudge was evidently disappointed and not a little -surprised. He did a good deal of muttering as he went on to the end of -the alley. There he stared across the fence. - -“Whose house is that?” he asked in a hoarse whisper. - -“Judge Folwell’s. No one lives in it now, though.” - -“Hm,” said Fudge. “Your house is over there, isn’t it?” - -“Yes. That’s the roof.” - -“Has your father got a safe?” - -“No, he hasn’t. For the love of mud, Fudge, come on home.” - -“Wait a minute.” Fudge turned to the back of the brick block. “What’s -on the first floor here?” - -“Ginter’s Bakery.” - -“Then this door opens into that?” - -“I don’t know. I suppose so. What difference does it make?” - -“It makes a lot of difference,” replied Fudge with much dignity. “If -it does, he’d have to pass through the bakery to get out this way, -wouldn’t he? And someone would be likely to see him. What we’ve got to -find out is whether it does or doesn’t.” Fudge walked up the two stone -steps and tried the latch. The door opened easily. Inside was silence -and darkness. Fudge hesitated. “Maybe,” he murmured, “we’d better try -the front way first.” - -They did, Perry, for one, retracing his steps through the darkening -alley with relief. At the main entrance of the building on G Street -they climbed two flights of stairs, Fudge cautioning his companion -against making too much noise, and, with assumed carelessness, loitered -down the hall to the last door on the right. There were some five or -six offices on each side and several of them appeared to be unoccupied -at present. Nor was there anything about the door they sought to -suggest that the room behind it was the refuge of a desperate criminal -or, for that matter, anyone else. The door was closed and bore no sign. -The two boys halted at a discreet distance and studied it. - -“Wonder if he’s in there now,” whispered Fudge. - -“Probably,” replied Perry uneasily. The hall was silent and shadows -lurked in the corners. From the floor below came the faint ticking of -a typewriter, but that was all the sound that reached them until an -automobile horn screeched outside. Perry jumped nervously. - -“Come on,” he whispered. “Let’s beat it. He might come out and――――” - -At that moment footsteps sounded on the lower flight. Perry tugged at -Fudge’s arm. “Come on, can’t you?” he urged. But Fudge was listening -intently to the approaching steps. The person, whoever he was, tramped -along the hall below and began the ascent of the next flight. Perry -looked about for concealment. A few yards away a half-open door showed -an empty and dusty interior. Perry slid through and Fudge followed, -closing the door softly all but a few inches. The footsteps reached the -top of the stairs and approached along the corridor, passed and kept on -toward the back of the building. Cautiously the two boys peered out. -It was the cowboy-pianist. He paused at the last portal, produced a -key, inserted it in the lock and opened the door. And as he passed from -sight he raised a hand and removed the luxuriant brown mustache from -his upper lip! - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -FUDGE REVOLTS - - -The boys crept quietly down the stairs and out into the street. It was -not until they had turned the corner that Fudge broke the silence. - -“What do you know about that?” he murmured awedly. - -“Looks as though you were right,” returned Perry admiringly. “He was -disguised, all right.” - -“I――I’ve got to think this over,” said Fudge. He was plainly -bewildered. They paused at Perry’s gate and he declined an invitation -to enter, with a shake of his head. “I guess,” he muttered, “there’s -more in this than I thought. You saw him take it off, didn’t you?” - -“Of course!” - -Fudge sighed relievedly. Perhaps he had doubted the evidences of his -senses. “Well, I’ll think it over, and to-morrow――――” - -“What?” asked Perry interestedly. - -“We’ll see,” was Fudge’s cryptic and unsatisfactory reply. “So long. -And not a word of this to a living soul, Perry!” - -“All right. But, say, Fudge”――Perry dropped his voice――“do you really -think he’s a――a criminal?” - -“What else can he be? Folks don’t wear false mustaches for nothing, do -they?” - -“N-no, but he might be doing it for――for a sort of joke,” returned the -other lamely. - -Fudge sniffed. “Joke! I’ll bet the joke will be on him before -I’m――before we’re done with him! You leave it to me. Night!” - -Fudge strode off in the twilight. There was something very stealthy -and even somber in his departure. Perry, watching a bit admiringly, -saw the careful manner in which the amateur detective discounted -surprise by keeping close to the fence and peering cautiously at each -tree as he approached it. At last Fudge melted mysteriously into the -distant shadows down the street, and Perry, somewhat thrilled with the -afternoon’s adventure, hurried upstairs and glanced toward the window -in the brick building. There was a light behind the lowered shade, but, -although he kept watch for nearly a half-hour, nothing came into view. - -He wondered what was going on behind that window, and imagined all -sorts of deliciously exciting things. Perhaps the mysterious cowboy -pianist was studying a plan of Cosgrove’s jewelry store, or perhaps -he was bending over a fascinating assortment of jimmies and files -and――yes, there’d be an acetylene torch for burning a hole in the steel -safe, and there’d be dynamite or nitro-glycerine or something equally -useful to a safe-breaker! If only he might somehow get a momentary peek -into that room over there! He was so full of his interesting neighbor -that he ate almost no supper and incurred the anxious displeasure of -his mother. - -“Aren’t you feeling well, Perry?” she asked. - -“No’m――I mean, yes’m!” - -“I think, Father, you’d better have a look at him after supper. His -face looks feverish to me.” - -“I’m all right, honest, Ma! I――I just ain’t hungry.” - -“Don’t say ‘ain’t,’ Perry. Have you been eating this afternoon?” - -“No’m.” - -“I wouldn’t worry about him,” said the Doctor. “These first spring days -are likely to interfere with one’s appetite. Have you started that -sprinting yet? Been doing too much running to-day?” - -“No, sir, we don’t start until to-morrow. Dad, did you ever see a -burglar?” - -“I suppose so. I don’t recollect. Have you seen one around?” - -Perry almost changed color. “No, sir――that is――I just wondered whether -they wore false mustaches.” - -“Now, Perry Hull, what sort of nonsense have you been reading?” -inquired his mother. “Some of the books you get out of the library -aren’t fit for any boy; all about fighting and Indians and――and now -it’s burglars, I dare say! I don’t see when you have time for reading, -anyway, with all those lessons to study. Your report card last month -wasn’t anything to boast of, either.” - -“It was all right except math.,” defended Perry. “Gee, if you think my -card was punk, you ought to see some of them!” - -“I didn’t say anything about ‘punk,’” retorted Mrs. Hull with dignity. -“And I’d like to know where you get all the horrid words you use -lately. I dare say it’s that Shaw boy. He looks rather common, I think.” - -“There, there, Mother, don’t scold him any more,” said the Doctor -soothingly. “Slang’s harmless enough. Have a slice of lamb, son?” - -Perry dutifully passed his plate and consumed the lamb, not because he -had any appetite for it but in order to allay his mother’s suspicions -of illness. There were some especially nasty bottles in the Doctor’s -office and Perry had long ago vowed never to be ill again! After supper -he excused himself early and retired to his room to study. Mrs. Hull -smiled commendingly. It was evident to her that her remarks had borne -fruit. But Perry didn’t get very much studying done, because he spent -much of the evening peeking cautiously around the corner of his window -shade. Of course he realized that the safe-breaker would be at the -theater in his assumed rôle of pianist, but it had occurred to Perry -that possibly he had an accomplice. But the opposite window remained -dark all the evening, or at least until after Perry, ready for bed, had -sent a final look across the starlit gloom. What happened subsequently -he didn’t know, but he dreamed the wildest, most extravagant dreams -in which he was at one moment participating in furious deeds of crime -and the next, aligned on the side of Justice, was heroically pursuing -a whole horde of criminals across the roofs of the city. That the -criminals were under the able and even brilliant leadership of Fudge -Shaw did not strike him as the least bit incongruous――until the next -morning! - -When he finally tumbled out of bed, after reviewing his dreams, or -as much as he could recall of them, he went first to the window -and looked across the back yard. His heart leaped into his throat -at what he saw. The last window on the third floor of the brick -building was wide-open and there, in plain view of all the world, sat -the safe-breaker! A small table was pulled in front of the casement -and the safe-breaker was seated at it. On the table were a cup and -saucer, some dishes and a newspaper. Perry gazed fascinatedly. The -safe-breaker alternately read the paper and ate his breakfast. Perry -couldn’t be quite certain, but it appeared that the breakfast consisted -of sausage and rolls and coffee. Whatever it was, the man ate with -evident enjoyment, slowly, perusing the morning news between mouthfuls. -There was no mustache to-day. Instead, the safe-breaker’s face was -clean-shaven and undeniably good-looking in a rugged way. He had a -rather large nose and a generous mouth and lean cheeks and a very -determined-looking chin. His hair was brown, with some glints of red -in it where the sunlight touched it. He was attired in quite ordinary -clothes, so far as the observer could see, but wore no coat; perhaps -because the morning was delightfully warm and the sunlight shone in -at his window. Fortunately for Perry, the man never once glanced his -way. If he had he might easily have seen a boy in blue pajamas staring -fascinatedly across at him with very wide, round eyes. In which case -doubtless he would have suspected that he was under surveillance! - -Perry was still looking when his mother’s voice summoned him to action. -Regretfully he withdrew his gaze and hurried off to the bathroom. When -he returned the safe-breaker was still there, but he had finished his -breakfast and was smoking a short pipe, still busy with the paper, -and so Perry was obliged to leave him, and when he had finished his -own repast and raced upstairs again the opposite window was empty. -Perry set off to school fairly weighted down with the startling news -he had to tell Fudge Shaw, and hoping beyond everything that he would -be fortunate enough to meet with that youth before the bell rang. He -wasn’t, however, and not until the noon hour did he find a chance to -unburden himself. Then, while he and Fudge, together with some two -hundred other boys――not to mention an even larger number of girls――sat -on the coping around the school grounds and ate their luncheons, he -eagerly, almost breathlessly, recounted the story of what he had seen. - -Fudge was plainly impressed, and he asked any number of searching and -seemingly purposeless questions, but in the end he appeared a little -disappointed. “It doesn’t seem,” he said, “that he’d show himself like -that if he’s what we think he is. Unless, of course, he’s doing it for -a bluff; to avert suspicion, you know.” - -Perry nodded. - -“He doesn’t look much like a criminal,” he said doubtfully. “He’s sort -of nice-looking, Fudge.” - -“Lots of the best of ’em are,” was the sententious reply. “Look at――oh, -lots of ’em! Remember the crook in that movie play last month, the -fellow who forged things?” - -“Jim the Penman? Yes, but he was only an actor, Fudge.” - -“Makes no difference. Those plays are true to life, Perry. That’s -why they got that good-looking chap to act that part, don’t you see? -That’s one of the most suspicious things about this fellow. He’s too -good-looking, too innocent, don’t you see? He’s probably an awfully -clever cracksman, Perry.” - -“Maybe,” replied the other hopefully. “What do you suppose he was so -interested in the paper for?” - -Fudge frowned thoughtfully as he conveyed the last morsel of a generous -sandwich to his mouth. “You can’t tell. Maybe he was looking to see if -the police were on his track. Or maybe――――” - -But the bell cut short further speculation and, agreeing to meet after -school, they went back to the drudgery of learning. Perry had not had -time to ask Fudge what plan of procedure the latter had decided on, a -fact which interfered sadly with his work during the final session. -As it developed later, however, Fudge had not decided on the best -manner in which to continue the relentless pursuit of the criminal. As -they made their way to the athletic field Fudge talked a great deal -on the subject but, to Perry’s disappointment, didn’t seem to arrive -anywhere. It would be necessary, thought Fudge, to do a good deal of -watching before they could obtain enough evidence in the case. What -they ought to do, he declared, was to shadow the safe-breaker and never -let him out of their sight. But this, as Perry pointed out, was rather -impractical, considering that they had to spend most of the day in -school. Whereupon Fudge reminded him that Saturday was coming. - -“We’ll have the whole day then. The only thing I’m afraid of is that he -will pull it off before that and make his getaway. And, of course, if -we want to get the reward we’ve got to collar him before that.” - -“Reward?” echoed Perry. “What reward?” - -“Why, the reward for his apprehension.” - -“How do you know there’s any reward?” - -“I don’t _know_ it, but it stands to reason, doesn’t it, that there is -one? If that fellow’s wanted somewhere there’s sure to be a reward out -for him, and a description and all. I wish I knew how much it is!” - -“How much do you suppose?” asked Perry. - -“Oh, maybe five hundred dollars, maybe a thousand. It depends, you see, -on how much swag he got away with on his last job. Maybe he killed -someone. You can’t tell. Burglars are desperate folks when they’re -interrupted.” - -“I don’t think he’d kill anyone,” said Perry. “He doesn’t look that -sort.” - -Fudge, though, shook his head unconvincedly. “You can’t tell,” he said. -“Anyway, if he has, the reward’s bound to be bigger. You keep your eyes -peeled, Perry, and watch that window closely. I wouldn’t be surprised -if you discovered something mighty important in the next day or two. He -must be getting pretty nearly ready to do something.” - -“You don’t think, then, he has an accomplice?” asked Perry. - -“No, I don’t. He sort of looks like a man who’d work on his own hook. -It’s lots safer, you see, and he has a pretty wise face.” - -There, for the time being, the subject had to be abandoned, for they -had reached the field and confidential conversation was no longer -possible. - -Not only the baseball candidates were out to-day but some forty-odd -aspirants for positions on the Track Team. These were clustered at the -further side of the inclosure where the coach and trainer, “Skeet” -Presser, were, rather dubiously it seemed, looking them over. Guy -Felker, eighteen years of age and a senior, was captain this year, -and Arthur Beaton was manager. Beaton was checking off the candidates -from a list he held and Captain Felker was inquiring of no one in -particular “where the rest of them were.” Sixty-four names had gone -down on the notice-board in the school corridor and only forty-four had -shown up. “Skeet” explained the absence of a number of the delinquents -by reminding Guy that fellows couldn’t practice baseball and report -for track work both. Guy consented to become slightly mollified, and, -Manager Beaton having completed his checking, the coach and trainer -took charge. - -“Skeet” was a slight, wiry man of some thirty years, with a homely, -good-natured countenance and a pair of very sharp and shrewd black -eyes. He had been in his time a professional one- and two-miler of -prominence, but of late years had made a business of training. He -was regularly employed by the Clearfield Young Men’s Christian -Association, but his duties there did not occupy all his time and for -three seasons he had coached and trained the High School athletes, and -with a fair measure of success, since during his régime Clearfield -had once won overwhelmingly from her rival, Springdale, had once been -beaten decisively and had once lost the meeting by a bare three points. -This year, if Guy Felker could have his way, the purple of Clearfield -was to wave in gorgeous triumph over the blue of Springdale. - -The trouble was, however, that after the last defeat by her rival -Clearfield High School had rather lost enthusiasm for track and field -sports. The pendulum swung far over toward baseball, and this spring -it had been more than usually difficult to persuade fellows to come -out for the Track Team. Felker had posted notice after notice calling -for volunteers before his insistence had stirred up any response. Of -course there was a nucleus in the hold-overs from last season, but they -were not many and new material was badly needed if the Purple was to -make a real showing against the Blue. Within the last week the list on -the notice-board had grown encouragingly in length, though, and with -a half-hundred candidates to choose from it would seem that coach and -captain should have been encouraged. Unfortunately, though, a good -half of the aspirants were youngsters whose chances of making good were -decidedly slim, and “Skeet” and Guy Felker both realized that if, after -the final weeding out, they had twenty-five fellows to build the team -with they might consider themselves extremely fortunate. - -At least half of the candidates who reported this afternoon were in -street togs. Those who were not were taken by Guy for a slow run out -into the country and the others were dismissed with instructions to -report to-morrow dressed for work. Of the former were Fudge and Perry, -and it was their fortune to amble over the better part of two miles -at the tail-end of a strung-out procession of runners. Perry was in -the rear because Fudge was. Fudge was there because running was not -a strong point with him. If it hadn’t been for the occasional rests -allowed by the captain, Fudge would have dropped out, discouraged and -winded, long before they got back to the field. As it was, however, -he managed to remain within sight of the leaders. Once when, having -trotted up a hill, he subsided on a convenient ledge to regain his -breath, he voiced a protest. - -“Gee,” panted Fudge, “I don’t see any good in running all over the -landscape like this when you’re going to be a shot-putter! If I’d -known they were going to spring this on me I wouldn’t have signed for -the team!” - -“I guess maybe it’s good for you,” replied Perry, “whether you’re going -to throw weights or run or jump. Hadn’t we better start along again? -The others are nearly a quarter of a mile away now.” - -Fudge lifted a dejected head and viewed the situation. His face -brightened. “They’re going around the hill, Perry,” he said. “That’s -all right. We’ll just trot down this side and pick ’em up again at the -road.” - -Perry wanted to demur at that, but Fudge’s discomfort was so real that -he had to sympathize, and so they cut off to the right and reached the -bottom of the hill shortly after the first runners had passed. There -were many knowing grins as the two boys trotted out from the fringe of -trees. - -“Did you lose your way?” asked one chap solicitously. - -“No, I lost my breath,” replied Fudge. “Had to stop and look for it.” - -“‘And for numerous other reasons,’” remarked a voice behind him. - -Fudge glanced back with a scowl, but every face in sight was guileless -and innocent. - -Later, when they were making their way home from the field, Fudge -pulled his feet after him wearily and groaned every few yards. - -“I’ll be as stiff as a crutch to-morrow,” he sighed pessimistically. -“F-f-for two cents I’d tell Guy to find someone else to put his old -shot for him. I d-d-didn’t agree to be a b-b-b-blooming slave!” - -Still, he managed to drag himself around to Perry’s after supper and -until it was time for the theater to open they watched the window -across the yard. But they saw nothing, not even a light. Fudge feared -that their quarry had flown and accused Perry of scaring him away. “He -probably saw you watching him and has skipped out. Bet we’ll never see -him again!” - -“But I’m quite sure he didn’t see me,” expostulated the other. “He -didn’t look up once.” - -“That’s what you think. He must have seen you. Well, there goes five -hundred dollars!” - -“You don’t even know there was any reward for him, so what’s the good -of grouching about it?” - -But Fudge refused to cheer up and presently took his departure -gloomily. It is very easy to be a pessimist when one is weary, and -Fudge was very weary indeed! - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -LANNY STUDIES STEAM ENGINEERING - - -They were putting down a two-block stretch of new macadam on the -Lafayette Street extension. A bed of cracked stone, freshly sprinkled, -was receiving the weighty attention of the town’s biggest steam -roller as Lanny White strolled around the corner. _Chug-chug-chug! -Scrunch-scrunch-scrunch!_ Lanny paused, hands in pockets, and looked -on. Back and forth went the roller, the engineer skillfully edging it -toward the center of the road at the end of each trip. Further down -the street, where the workmen were tearing up the old dirt surface, a -second and much smaller roller stood idle, its boiler simmering and -purring. Lanny smiled. - -“Me for the little one,” he muttered, as he walked toward the smaller -roller. The engineer was a huge, good-natured looking Irishman with a -bristling red mustache, so large that he quite dwarfed the machine. He -had a bunch of dirty cotton waste in his hand and, apparently for the -want of something better to do, was rubbing it here and there about the -engine. He looked up as Lanny came to a stop alongside, met Lanny’s -smile and smiled back. Then he absent-mindedly mopped his face with -the bunch of waste, without, however, appreciable effect, and leaned -against the roller. - -“Gettin’ warm,” he volunteered. - -Lanny nodded, casting his eyes interestedly over the engine. - -“I should think that would be a pretty warm job in hot weather,” he -observed conversationally. - -“’Tis so. Put eighty or ninety pounds o’ shtame in her an’ she throws -out the hate somethin’ fierce.” - -“She’s smaller than the other one, isn’t she?” - -“Yep. We use this one for the sidewalk work gin’rally. But she’s good -for tearin’ up when she’s the spikes in her.” - -“Spikes?” asked Lanny. - -“Thim things.” The man picked up a steel spike some eight inches long -from the floor and showed Lanny how it was fixed in one of the numerous -holes bored in the surface of the roller. After that Lanny’s curiosity -led to all sorts of questions. At the engineer’s invitation he mounted -the platform and, under instruction, moved the roller backwards and -forwards and altered its course by the steering wheel and peered into -the glowing furnace under the boiler and listened to an exposition on -the subject of getting up steam and the purposes of the steam and water -gauges. The engineer was a willing teacher and Lanny an apt pupil, and -they both enjoyed themselves. - -“And what do you do with it at night?” asked Lanny innocently. “Do you -leave it here and put the fire out?” - -“Lave it here, yes, but I don’t put the fire out, lad. I just bank it -down, d’you see, an’ thin in the mornin’ I just rake her out a bit and -throw some more coal in and there she is.” - -“Oh, I see. And how much steam does she have to have to work on?” - -“Depends. Sixty pounds’ll carry her along on a level strate, but you -have to give her more on a grade.” - -“It’s quite interesting,” said Lanny. “And thanks for explaining it to -me.” - -“Sure, that’s all right,” replied the other good-naturedly. “Maybe, -though, you’ll be afther my job first thing I know.” He winked -humorously. - -Lanny smiled and shook his head. “I guess I’d be afraid to try to run -one of those alone,” he said. “It looks pretty difficult. How was it, -now, I started it before?” - -“Wid this.” The engineer tugged gently at the lever. “Try it again if -you like.” - -So Lanny stepped back on the platform and rolled the machine a few -yards up the road and back again and seemed quite pleased and proud. -Nevertheless he still denied that he would have the courage to -try to do it alone. “I guess I’d better start in and work up,” he -said smilingly. “Maybe I could get the job of night watchman for a -beginning. I suppose there is a watchman, isn’t there?” - -“There’s two or three of thim.” - -Lanny tried not to let his disappointment show. “That’s what I’ll do -then,” he laughed. “And if I get cold I’ll sit here by your boiler.” - -“Oh, there’s no watchman on this job,” said the other carelessly. “We -just put the lanterns up. That’s enough. It’s only where there’s a good -dale of travelin’ that they do be havin’ the watchman on the job. Well, -here’s where we get busy. Come along, you ould teakettle. The boss -wants you. So long, lad.” - -The little roller rumbled off up the road and Lanny, whistling softly, -wandered back the way he had come, stopping here and there to watch -operations. But once around the corner he no longer dawdled. He set out -at his best pace instead, went a block westward and one northward and -presently reached his destination, a house at the corner of Troutman -and B Streets. Dick Lovering’s blue runabout was in front of the gate -and Dick himself was sitting on the porch with Gordon Merrick. Gordon -was a clean-cut, live-looking boy of sixteen, a clever first-baseman -and an equally clever left end. He and Dick were close friends. They -had evidently been awaiting Lanny’s appearance, for they spied him the -moment he came into sight and before he had reached the gate Gordon -called eagerly: “All right, Lanny?” - -“Fine! I’m the best little chauffeur in the Street Department!” - -“Better not talk so loudly,” cautioned Dick. “Do you have to have a -license to run it?” - -Lanny chuckled. “I guess so, but I’ve lost mine. Say, fellows, it’s -dead easy!” He seated himself on the top step and fanned himself with -his cap. April was surprising Clearfield with a week of abnormally warm -weather and this Saturday morning was the warmest of all. “The chap was -awfully decent to me. It seems rather a shame to take him in the way I -did. He let me get on it and run it and showed me all about it. Why, -all you have to do――――” And thereupon Lanny went into technical details -with enthusiasm and explained until Gordon shut him off. - -“That’ll be about all, Lanny,” said Gordon. “As you’re going to attend -to the chauffeuring we don’t need to know all the secrets. All we want -to know is, can it be done?” - -“Of course! I’m telling you――――” - -“You’re spouting a lot of rot about steam pressure and gauges,” -interrupted Gordon firmly. “That’s your business, not ours. We’re only -passengers and――――” - -“Leave me out,” laughed Dick. “I refuse to ride on anything that -Lanny’s running, even a street roller.” - -“There won’t any of you ride,” said Lanny. “You’ll walk. And one of you -had better go ahead and carry a lantern in case we meet anything on the -way.” - -“Oh, shucks, it’s got a whistle, hasn’t it?” - -“Maybe, but I’m not going to blow it if it has, you silly idiot!” - -“Much obliged! Well, do we do it to-night or do we not?” - -“We do. The journey will start at nine sharp.” - -“Hadn’t we better wait until later?” asked Dick. “We don’t want to run -into the Superintendent of Streets or the fellow you were talking to.” - -“There’s no one out that way at night. There are only four or five -houses around there, anyway. We can take it to that first new cross -street, whatever its name is, and then back by Common Street to the -field. We won’t meet a soul. Besides, it’s going to take some time -to go all over that ground with the thing. It’s slower than Dick’s -runabout!” - -“Cast no aspersions on Eli,” warned Dick. “We might have a race, you -and I, eh? You in your――what make is it, by the way?” - -Lanny chuckled. “Well, it’s not very big,” he said, “and so I guess -maybe it’s a Ford!” - -“Who’s going along with us?” Gordon asked. - -“Just Way. Seeing that he’s manager――――” - -“Yes, and we may need someone along whose dad has a little money in -case we get caught! Will you fellows come here, then, about nine?” - -“You’d better leave me out of it,” said Dick. “I’m willing to share the -responsibility but I wouldn’t be any use to you. I’m an awful blunderer -when I try to stump around in the dark.” - -“You could go in Eli,” said Gordon, “and take me along.” - -“Nothing doing! You’ll walk ahead and lug the lantern,” declared Lanny. -“There’s no reason why Dick should bother to come. Besides, if there -did happen to be any trouble about it afterwards, he’d be much better -out of it. A football coach isn’t much use if he’s serving a year or -two in prison.” - -“What do you suppose they would do to us if they found out?” asked -Gordon thoughtfully. - -“Oh, who cares?” Lanny laughed gaily. “After all, we aren’t stealing -the thing; we’re just borrowing it.” - -“I guess Ned Burns would intercede with his stern uncle if we were -found out,” said Dick. “It might be a good idea to take Ned along!” he -added with a laugh. - -“Ned nothing!” Gordon’s tone was contemptuous. “Ned would get in front -of the old thing and get flattened out, like as not. Something would -happen to him surely. He can’t walk around the corner without breaking -a leg!” - -“What’s the matter with him now?” asked Lanny interestedly. “Some -fellow told me he was laid up again.” - -“Didn’t you hear? Why, he was standing on a crossing on Common Street -one day last week and an automobile came along and ran over his foot! -Everyone around declared that the chap in the auto blew his horn loud -enough to wake the dead. But it didn’t wake Ned!” - -“Hurt him much?” asked Lanny, laughing. - -“Broke a bone in one toe, they say. Honest, I saw Ned walk along G -Street one day last winter and run into exactly three hydrants! He’s a -wonder!” - -“He certainly is! And I guess we’d better leave Ned at home. Three of -us are enough, anyway. What time does the moon show up to-night?” - -“It hasn’t told me,” replied Gordon gravely. - -“Well, we’ll need it to see what we’re doing. About ten, though, I -think. Is that twelve o’clock striking? Gee, I must run along. I -promised my mother I’d dig up a flower bed this morning. See you later, -fellows.” - -“Wait a second and I’ll drop you around there,” said Dick, reaching -for his crutches. “By the way, Gordie, if you see Way tell him not to -forget to stop and get half a dozen new balls. I told him yesterday, -but he’s likely to forget it. And don’t you forget that practice is at -two-thirty to-day!” - -“Ay, ay, sir! Can we have a game to-day, Dick?” - -“Yes, but I want a good hour’s work beforehand. Turn her over, will -you, Lanny? I’m going to have a self-starter put on her some day if I -can find the money.” - -Eli Yale, that being the full name of the blue runabout, rolled out of -sight up B Street toward Lanny’s home and Gordon, reminded by Lanny’s -remark of his own duties in the way of gardening, descended the porch -and passed around the side of the house toward the shed in search of -a spade. As he came in sight of the apple tree in the next yard he -glanced inquiringly toward the platform. It was, however, empty. - -“I wonder,” muttered Gordon, “where Fudge is keeping himself. I haven’t -seen him around for almost a week.” - -Could he have caught sight of his neighbor at that moment he would -probably have been somewhat surprised. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -THE NEW SIGN - - -“Quit wobbling!” hissed Fudge. - -“All right, but hurry up,” returned Perry in a hoarse whisper. “See -anything?” - -“N-no, nothing much. There’s a table――what’s that?” - -Fudge stopped abruptly and listened. Footfalls sounded in the hall -below and, releasing his clutch on the ledge of the transom, Fudge -wriggled from Perry’s supporting arms and descended to the floor. - -“Someone’s coming!” he whispered. “Beat it!” - -They “beat it” into the empty room across the corridor just as the -intruder’s head came into sight above the landing. Fudge, watching -through the crack of the partly-open door, beheld a man in overalls -carrying a square of black tin. He passed on to the door they had -just retreated from, set down his box, pushed a battered derby hat to -the back of his head and regarded the portal thoughtfully. Finally -he produced an awl, a screwdriver and some screws from different -pockets and proceeded to attach the square of tin to the middle panel. -The conspirators watched with vast curiosity. There was printing -on the tin, but not until the man had completed his task and gone -were they able to read it. Then they stole out and regarded the sign -interestedly. This is what they saw: - - MYRON ADDICKS, - CIVIL ENGINEER - -They viewed each other questioningly and doubtfully. - -“Civil Engineer,” mused Fudge. “That’s a funny game. Of course, that -isn’t his real name.” - -“Let’s get out of here,” said Perry uneasily. “He might come back.” - -They went down the stairs and emerged on the sidewalk after Fudge had -peered cautiously from the doorway. “I suppose,” muttered Fudge, “we -oughtn’t to be seen together. He may be watching from across the street -somewhere.” He viewed the windows of the opposite stores and houses -suspiciously but without result. In another minute they were seated on -Perry’s front steps. - -“What did you see through the transom?” asked Perry. - -“Nothing much. There’s a cot bed in one corner with a screen around it, -and a table with a lot of books and things on it, and a funny table -with a sloping top, and a little table near the window, and two or -three chairs――――” Fudge paused, searching his memory. “That’s all, I -guess. There’s a closet in the corner across from the bed, though. And, -oh, yes, there was a trunk near the door. I could just see the edge of -it. I’ll bet if we could get a look in that trunk we’d find evidence -enough, all right!” - -“But――but if he’s really a civil engineer,” objected Perry, “maybe -we’re all wrong about him.” - -Fudge jeered. “What would a civil engineer be doing playing a piano in -a movie theater? And why would he wear a false mustache? Or dress up -like a cowboy? He’s no more of a civil engineer than I am!” - -“Myron’s an unusual name,” mused Perry. - -“You wouldn’t expect him to call himself John Smith, would you? Folks -would suspect right away that it was a――an assumed name. He’s foxy, -that chap. I’ll just bet you anything that he’s a regular top-notcher! -And I’ll bet there’s a whaling big reward out for him, too!” - -“Well, I don’t see that we’ve found out very much to-day,” said Perry. -“We’ve been after him ever since half-past eight, and all we know is -that he calls himself ‘Myron Addicks, Civil Engineer’ and has a trunk -and a bed and three tables in his room.” - -“That’s a whole lot,” replied Fudge emphatically. “That sign proves -that he’s a faker, doesn’t it?” - -“Well, it doesn’t exactly _prove_ it,” returned the other. - -“Of course it does! You don’t suppose anyone really ever had such a -name as ‘Myron Addicks,’ do you? And I guess you never saw a civil -engineer playing a piano in a theater, did you? And what about the -disguise?” - -There was no getting around the disguise, and Perry hedged. “Well, -anyway, we’ve got to find out more than we have yet, Fudge.” - -“Oh, we’ll find things out all right. And I guess we’ve got plenty of -time. That sign shows that he means to hang around here awhile, you -see. If he was going to crack a safe within a few days he wouldn’t go -to all that trouble. I guess he’s about as slick as they make them. -Say, what time is it? I’ve got to get home!” - -“About half-past twelve. Do we have to do any more shadowing this -afternoon?” - -Fudge shook his head. “No, he’ll be in the theater from two to -half-past four. Anyway, I’ve got to think over the new evidence before -we go on. We――we’ve got to proceed very carefully. If he should suspect -anything――well, it might go hard with us.” - -“I wish,” said Perry dubiously, “we could find out if there really is -a reward out for him. Only, if there was, I don’t suppose we could get -it.” - -“Why couldn’t we?” demanded Fudge warmly. “All we’d have to do would -be to go to the police and say: ‘Come across with the reward and we’ll -lead you to your man!’ That’s all we’d have to do. Of course I could go -to the police station and ask what rewards are out, but, you see, that -might make them suspicious. All they’d have to do would be to shadow us -and find out about him and――bing!――good-night, reward!” Fudge shook his -head. “We won’t give them any chance to do us out of it. Well, so long. -Going out to the field this afternoon?” - -“Are you?” - -Fudge nodded. “Guess so. Come on and watch practice. Maybe they’ll -have a game to-day. Stop for me about two, will you?” - -Perry agreed and Fudge took himself off, for once neglecting to proceed -along the street with his usual caution. If an enemy had been lurking -behind one of the maple trees, Fudge would have stood a poor chance of -escape! Perry dragged his tired feet into the house and up the stairs, -reflecting that this game of shadowing was far more wearying than the -long, slow runs that had fallen to his lot the last three days. He was -very thankful that work for the track candidates was to be omitted this -afternoon. - -However, he felt better after dinner and sitting in the sun on the -stand with Fudge and watching baseball practice was not a very wearing -occupation. Dick Lovering put the fellows through a good hour of -batting and fielding and then picked two teams from the more promising -material and let them play five innings. Tom Haley was in the box for -the First Team and Tom Nostrand pitched for the Second. The First was -made up about as everyone expected it would be, with Captain Jones at -shortstop, Lanny catching, Gordon Merrick on first, Harry Bryan on -second, Will Scott on third, George Cotner in left field, Pete Farrar -in center and Joe Browne in right. Bert Cable umpired. A hundred -or more fellows had come out to the field to look on, attracted by -the rumor of a line-up, and they were rewarded by a very scrappy, -hard-fought contest. There were many errors, but, as they were fairly -apportioned to each team, they added to rather than detracted from the -interest. - -The Scrubs tied the score up in the third when Lanny, seeking to kill -off a runner at second, threw the ball two yards to the left of base -and two tallies came in. At four runs each the game went into the last -of the fourth inning. Then an error by the Second Team’s first-baseman, -followed by a wild throw to third by catcher, brought Gordon Merrick -in and placed the First Team in the lead. And there it stayed, for, -although the Second started a rally in their half of the fifth and -managed to get men on first and second bases with but one out, Tom -Haley settled down and fanned the next batsman and brought the game to -an end by causing his rival in the points, Tom Nostrand, to pop up an -easy fly to Warner Jones. - -Before Fudge and Perry were out of sight of the field Dick’s runabout -sped past with Gordon Merrick beside the driver and Curtis Wayland -perched on the floor with his knees doubled up under his chin. The -occupants of the car waved and Way shouted something that Perry didn’t -catch. - -“What did he say?” Perry asked as the car sped around the corner. - -“I don’t know,” muttered Fudge. “He’s a fresh kid, anyway.” - -Fudge, however, was not quite truthful, for Way’s remark had reached -him very clearly. - -“I thought,” said Perry innocently, “he said something about the -springs.” - -Fudge viewed him suspiciously, but, discovering his countenance -apparently free of guile, only grunted. - -In the runabout the three boys were discussing the afternoon’s -performance. “It didn’t go badly for a first game,” hazarded Way. “But -wasn’t that a weird peg of Lanny’s?” - -“There were several weird things about that game,” said Gordon. “My -hitting was one of them. We’ll have to do better next Saturday if we’re -going to beat Norrisville.” - -“Who said we were going to?” asked Dick mildly. - -Gordon laughed. “Well, then, give them a fight,” he corrected. - -“Oh, we’ll do that, I guess,” Dick replied. “Another week of practice -will make a difference. We’ll get rid of some of the crowd about -Wednesday and then we’ll have room to turn around out there. Warner -thinks we ought to keep two full nines for the First, but I don’t see -the use of it if we have the Second to play with. What do you think?” - -“No use at all,” said Way. “Just a lot of soreheads sitting around on -the bench and kicking because they can’t play every minute. Besides, -there aren’t enough good ball players in the lot to make three teams.” - -“No, I don’t think there are. That’s what I told Warner. He wanted to -pick out eighteen or twenty and then make up the Second from what was -left.” - -“A peach of a Second it would be,” jeered Gordon. - -“I guess we’ll stick to last year’s idea,” continued the coach, “and -keep about sixteen fellows, including pitchers. I wish, by the way, we -had another good twirler. We’ll have to find one somewhere.” - -“Joe Browne can pitch a little, Dick,” Way suggested. “You might see -what you can do with him. He hasn’t got much, I guess, but a pretty -fair straight ball and a sort of out-curve, but he might learn.” - -“All right, we’ll see what we can do with him. A player who can work in -the field and the box too is a pretty handy chap to have around. If he -can do well enough to start some of the early games we won’t have to -keep more than fifteen players. Here you are, Way. Everything all right -for to-night?” - -“I guess so. Lanny’s going to leave the big gate open so we can get the -thing in. I hope he doesn’t forget it. I’ll call him up at supper time -and find out. Sure you don’t want to come along, Dick?” - -“Quite sure. I’d only be in the way. And you’ll have plenty without me. -Good luck to you. Don’t get caught!” - -“If we do we’ll get you to bail us out,” laughed Way, as he swung the -gate to behind him. “Nine o’clock sharp, Gordon!” - -Gordon nodded and the car went on again. “I’m rather afraid you’ll get -nabbed,” remarked Dick. “But I don’t suppose anyone would be nasty -about it. If I were you fellows I’d cut and run, Gordie, if anything -happened.” - -“I suppose we will,” Gordon replied. “If we do I hope Lanny will turn -off the engine before he jumps!” - -“Well, drop around in the morning and let me hear about it,” said the -other as Gordon jumped out at his gate. “If I don’t see an announcement -of your arrest in the paper I’ll take it that you got through all -right.” - -“You won’t see any announcement of my arrest,” laughed Gordon. “I can -run faster than any cop on the force, Dick!” - -“Well, see that you do! So long!” - - - - -CHAPTER X - -THE BORROWED ROLLER - - -Some twelve years before a large tract of marsh and meadow lying west -of the town and southeast of the river where it turns toward the sea -had been purchased by Mr. Jonathan Brent. At the time no one conceived -that any of the land except possibly a few blocks just beyond A Street -would ever be marketable as residence lots. But Mr. Brent had gradually -filled in, driving back the twisting creeks that meandered about the -land, until many acres had been redeemed. Several new streets were -laid out and Mr. Brent, retaining for his own occupancy a full block -between Sawyer and Troutman Streets, had built himself a very handsome -residence. “Brentwood” was quite the finest mansion in Clearfield. When -finished it was two blocks beyond the westernmost house in town, but -it did not remain so long. Brent’s Addition proved popular and many -citizens bought lots there and built, in some cases abandoning homes in -the middle of town that were already being elbowed by business blocks. -Between Main and Common Streets, three blocks north of “Brentwood,” -two squares had been left undivided and this ground was now the High -School Athletic Field. West of that, building had not progressed to any -great extent as yet, although a few houses were scattered about the -recently-made area. It was in this locality at about half-past nine -that Saturday night Lanny, Gordon, Way and one other found the street -rollers. - -The fourth member of the expedition was Morris Brent. Morris, it -seemed, had recalled the fact that he had left a tennis racket and some -balls on the court at the side of the house and had gone out to bring -them in. On his return he had chanced to look toward the front gate and -had glimpsed the three figures going west along Troutman Street. There -was nothing extraordinary about that, but Morris had been impressed -with a certain stealthiness displayed by the trio, and had also caught -sight of a tow head under the dim light of a street lamp. Thereupon -Morris had abandoned racket and balls on the front steps and hastened -after the conspirators, finding that his surmise as to the identity -of the light-haired youth was correct. His advent was welcomed, the -purpose of the expedition explained to him and the trio became a -quartette. - -Save Morris not a person was glimpsed from Gordon’s house to their -destination. The only person they were likely to meet was the policeman -on that beat, and, since he had to cover a deal of territory, and was -known to have a partiality for the better lighted district nearest -town, the boys considered their chances of evading him were excellent. -Making certain that there was no watchman about, they approached the -smaller of the two rollers and considered it. It would have to be -turned around and run back a half-block to the next street, north two -blocks and then east to the Common Street side of the athletic field. -The first difficulty that presented itself was that, contrary to the -statement of the engineer, the fire under the boiler was not banked. In -fact, there was very little fire there. This was explained by Morris. -Being Saturday, he said, the engineers had left their fires to go out -so they would not have to tend them until Monday morning. - -“Isn’t that the dickens?” asked Lanny. He lifted down a red lantern -that hung from the engine and dubiously examined the steam gauge. -“About ten pounds,” he muttered. “She won’t stir a step on that!” - -“Guess, then, we’d better try it some other time,” said Way. - -“No, sir, we’re going to do it to-night,” responded Lanny, after a -moment’s consideration. “If we wait until the first of the week the -field may dry off, and we want to roll it while it’s still moist. The -only thing to do is to get this fire going and make steam. It’ll take -some time, but we can do it.” - -“Easy,” agreed Morris. Being newly admitted to the conspiracy, Morris -was filled with enthusiasm. “Set the lantern down, Lanny, and I’ll -shovel some coal on.” - -“All right. I’ll rake it a bit first, though.” This was done and then, -from the bin, Morris got several shovelfuls of soft coal and sprinkled -it gingerly over the dying fire. Drafts were opened and the quartette -sat down to wait. Fortunately, the night was fairly warm, otherwise the -ensuing period might have been distinctly unpleasant, for this newer -part of Brent’s Addition was beautifully level, and what breeze was -stirring came across the land unimpeded by anything larger than the -two-inch shade trees along the incipient sidewalks. They talked in low -tones, keeping a careful watch meanwhile for the policeman. The last -street light was at the end of the block and so, save for the lanterns -left by the workmen, they were in the darkness. Lanny, though, pointed -to the sky back of the town. “The moon’s coming up,” he said, “and I’d -like mighty well to be inside the field before it gets in its work.” - -“Same here,” agreed Gordon. The next instant he uttered a cautioning -“_S-s-sh!_” and flattened himself out against the side of the roller. -Half a block away the officer on the beat had suddenly emerged from the -shadows and was standing under the light, gazing, as it seemed to the -boys, most interestedly toward them. There was a minute of suspense. -“Think he saw us?” whispered Gordon. - -“Search me,” said Lanny. “I wish we’d had the sense to put the lantern -back on the other side where we got it. Here he comes!” - -The officer had begun a slow but determined approach. - -“Keep in the shadows,” advised Lanny, “and beat it back to the other -roller! Don’t let him see you!” - -Silently, like four indistinct shadows, the boys slipped from their -places and, keeping as best they could the dark bulk of the roller -between them and the approaching policeman, scuttled up the road to -where the larger machine stood. There was one doubtful moment when the -light of the red lantern fell upon them just before they dodged behind -the big roller. - -“He will see the fire and know that something’s up,” whispered Way. -“Let’s skip, fellows!” - -“Hold on a minute,” advised Lanny. “Maybe he won’t. Wait and see.” - -They peered anxiously around the edges of the big wheel behind which -they were hidden. The policeman was dimly visible as he walked about -the smaller roller. Finally he stopped and swung his stick a moment, -picked up the red lantern and set it in the road beside the machine -and, at last, slowly ambled back along the street. Breathlessly and -hopefully they watched him reach the corner and disappear without a -backward look. For a long two minutes after that they listened to the -sound of his footsteps dying away on the new granolithic sidewalk. Then: - -“Saved!” murmured Morris dramatically. - -“Come on,” said Lanny. “We’ll have to get that old shebang going even -if we have to push it! The moon will be up in a few minutes.” - -When they got back there was an encouraging purring sound from the -engine and, without disturbing the lantern, Lanny borrowed a match from -Morris and read the gauge. “Forty-something,” he muttered as the light -flickered out. “We’ll try her, anyway. Sneak back there to the corner, -Gordon, and see if you can hear or see anything of the cop. And hurry -back. I’ll get her swung around, anyway.” - -Gordon scouted off and Lanny, while the other two boys held their -breath anxiously, pulled a lever here, pushed something there and -turned the wheel. There was a hiss, a jar, a _clank_ and a rumble and -the roller slowly moved away from the curbing. - - “She starts, she moves, she seems to feel - The thrill of life along her keel!” - -murmured Morris poetically as Lanny sought excitedly for the reversing -lever in the darkness. The roller stopped suddenly and as suddenly -began to back. Way, who had followed close behind, had just time to -jump aside with a suppressed yelp before the ponderous machine struck -the curb with an alarming jolt. - -“Keep her head down!” exclaimed Morris. “Don’t let her throw you, -Lanny!” - -“Give me that lantern up here,” panted the amateur engineer. “I can’t -see what I’m doing.” - -Way handed the lantern to him and he hung it on a projection in -front of him. After that progress was less erratic. It required much -maneuvering to get the roller headed the other way, but Lanny at last -accomplished the difficult feat. Gordon returned to report that all -was quiet. More coal was put into the furnace and the journey begun. -Lanny’s plan to have someone walk ahead with a lantern was abandoned. -Instead the light was put out and Lanny trusted to the faint radiance -of the moon which was not yet quite above the house-tops. The corner -was negotiated without difficulty and the Flying Juggernaut, as Gordon -dubbed the machine, swung into a smooth, newly-surfaced street over -which she moved easily if not silently. Gordon and Morris strode ahead -to watch for obstructions and give warning while Way, as a sort of rear -guard, remained behind in case pursuit appeared from that direction. - -What each of the four marveled at was why the entire town did not turn -out to discover the reason for the appalling noise! Perhaps the sound -of the steam roller’s passage was not as deafening as they imagined, -but to them it seemed that the thumping and rattling and groaning could -easily be heard on the other side of town! If it was, though, nothing -came of it. Slowly but with a sort of blind inexorability quite awesome -the Juggernaut proceeded on her way. Lanny, his hand on the lever that -would bring her to a stop, stood at his post like a hero, ready, -however, to cut and run at the first alarm. It seemed the better part -of an hour to him before the two blocks were traversed and Morris came -back to announce that Common Street was reached. Over went the wheel -and the Flying Juggernaut, grazing the curbing with a nerve-destroying -rasp of steel against stone, turned toward the side entrance of the -field. On the left now were several houses. Lights shone from windows. -The boys held their breath as the last leg of the journey began. -Suppose that, hearing the noise and viewing the unusual sight of a -steam roller parading through the street at half-past ten o’clock, some -busy-body should telephone to the police station! Morris didn’t like -to think of it, and so, naturally, he mentioned it to Gordon. Gordon -assured him that the contingency had already occurred to him and that -if he saw a front door open he meant to disappear from the scene with -unprecedented celerity, or words to that effect! - -But the suspense ended at last, for there, on the right, a break in the -shadowed darkness of the high fence, was the open gate. Lanny swung the -roller far to the left and turned toward the entrance. Then, however, -a problem confronted them, which was how to get it over the curbing! -They hadn’t planned for that. The sidewalk was a good six inches above -the street level, and, bringing the Juggernaut to a stop――the sudden -silence was absolutely uncanny!――Lanny invited ideas. Morris offered -the desperate plan of backing the roller to the far side of the street -and putting on all steam. “Sort of lift her over, Lanny,” he urged. -Lanny told him he was an idiot; that this thing was a steam roller and -not a horse. In the end Morris, Way and Gordon went inside to look for -planks or beams to lay along the curb, while Lanny, not too contented -with his task, remained to guard the roller. They were gone a long -time, or so, at least, it seemed to the engineer, but returned at last -with enough lumber of varying lengths and thicknesses to answer the -purpose. In the light of the inquiring moon, which was now sailing -well above the tree-tops, they snuggled the planks and joists against -the curbing, forming an abrupt but practical runway, and, giving the -Juggernaut all the steam there was, Lanny persuaded her to take the -incline and to roll majestically through the gate and into the field. -No sooner was she inside than Gordon swung the gate shut and secured -it, and four boys, with one accord, drew four long, deep-drawn breaths -of relief! - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -GORDON DESERTS HIS POST - - -After that they listened cautiously, but heard only the soft sizzling -of the engine which had a contented sound as though the Flying -Juggernaut was quite as rejoiced at the successful outcome of the -venture as they were! More coal was put on, the grate was raked and -Lanny contentedly announced that there was a sixty-pound head of steam -on. By this time the field was bathed in moonlight save where the -stands cast their black shadows, and the task remaining could not fail -for lack of light. Forward moved the Juggernaut and there began the -work of smoothing out the inequalities of Brent Field. Perhaps had -Lanny realized the size of the task he would never have ventured on it. -Back and forth, commencing at the infield end, rumbled and clanked the -roller, each time covering some four feet of sward and gravel. An hour -passed and they were still only as far as first and third base. Gordon -voiced doubts. - -“At this rate, Lanny, we won’t reach the fence back there before -breakfast time. Can’t you make her go any faster?” - -“No, I can’t,” replied the engineer shortly, “and if you don’t like the -way I’m doing this suppose you take a whack at it yourself.” - -“No, thanks. I’d probably run her right through the stand over there. -I’m not criticising your handling of the thing, Lanny, but it’s getting -a bit chilly and I’m sleepy and――――” - -“Go on home then. I guess I can do this all right alone.” - -“Well, don’t be grouchy,” said Way. “After all, you’re the only one of -us who’s getting any fun out of it. Just walking back and forth like -this isn’t awfully exciting. Gee, I wish I had my sweater!” - -“Tell you what,” said Morris. “I’ll beat it down town and get some hot -coffee!” - -“Oh, noble youth!” applauded Gordon. “Get a gallon of it, Morris! And -some sandwiches――――” - -“Or hot-dogs,” interpolated Way. - -“With plenty of mustard!” - -“Who’s got any money? I don’t think I’ve got more than fifteen or -twenty cents. Dig down, fellows.” - -They “dug” and a minute later Morris was on his way with the -sufficient sum of eighty cents jingling in his pocket. Cheered by the -anticipation of hot coffee and food, the others were restored to good -humor. Lanny said he guessed the old concern would get along just as -fast if they all got on it. They tried it and could see no difference -in the rate of progress, and being near the boiler was a lot warmer -than walking along in the little breeze that had come up with the moon. -At Gordon’s suggestion, Lanny instructed him in running the machine -and, after a few trips back and forth, he took Lanny’s place at the -throttle while the latter was glad to get down and stretch his legs. -They completed the diamond and started on the outfield. Lanny declared -that the work was a huge success, that the ground where they had rolled -was as hard and level as a billiard table. - -“Of course,” he added, “it would be a lot better if we could go over it -two or three times.” - -“Maybe,” said Gordon hurriedly, “but we’re not going over it two or -three times, you simple idiot! Once is enough. My folks hate to have me -late for breakfast!” - -“One good thing,” said Way, “is that to-morrow――no, to-day――is Sunday -and we have breakfast later.” - -“So do we,” replied Gordon, “but I’m wondering if I can sneak in -without being caught. Wish I’d thought to unlock the porch window. I -supposed we’d be all done with this by twelve!” - -“If we get it done by four we’ll be lucky, I guess,” said Lanny. “There -comes Morris.” - -“I could only get a quart,” panted Morris as he came up. “The chap in -the lunch wagon was afraid he’d run short if he gave me any more. Here -are some paper cups; got those at the drug store. And here’s your grub; -eight ham and three hot-dog sandwiches.” - -“Three?” ejaculated Gordon. - -“Yes, I ate one on the way. Stop your old pushcart till we feed.” - -“Better keep her going,” said Lanny. “We can eat _en voyage_.” - -“Didn’t get any of that,” replied Morris flippantly. “They were all out -of it. Hold your cup, Way. Is it hot? I came back as fast as I could, -but――――” - -“Don’t you worry,” sputtered Way. “It’s hot enough to scald you. Good, -too! M-mm!” - -For several minutes conversation ceased and only the rumble and clank -of the roller broke the silence. Then, when the last crumb was gone and -the paper cups had been added to the flames, there were four contented -grunts. “That’s better,” said Lanny. “I’m good for all night now. Let -me have her, Gordon.” - -“Wait a bit. I’m having too good a time. What time is it?” - -“About quarter to one,” answered Way, studying the face of his watch in -the moonlight. - -“That’s not so bad. How much more have we got, Lanny?” - -“I’d say we’d done just about half,” was the reply. “Better stop her -and coal up a little.” - -“No stops this trip,” answered Gordon. “Coal ahead. I’ll get over here.” - -“What’s the matter with letting me work her a bit?” asked Morris, when -the door was shut again. “Seeing that I saved your lives――――” - -“Morris, old pal,” replied Gordon, gravely, “this requires science and -experience. I’d let you take her in a minute, but if anything happened -to her I’d be held responsible. You can be fireman, though, and shovel -coal.” - -“Next time you can get your own coffee,” grumbled Morris. “I had just -enough money, by the way, to pay the lunch wagon chap, but I had to -charge the drinking cups to you, Gordon.” - -“That’s more than I could do at Castle’s,” laughed Gordon. “Whoa! Gee, -I didn’t know that track was so close!” - -“Get out of there before you go through the fence,” said Lanny, pushing -him aside. “Do you suppose we’d ought to roll the track, too, fellows?” - -A chorus of “No’s” answered him. “Wouldn’t do the least bit of good,” -added Way. “The track’s in rotten shape anyhow. I don’t see why we have -to have the old thing. It’s only in the way. If you have to go back for -a long fly it’s a safe bet you fall over the rim. What we ought to do -is sod it over and――――” - -“Tell that to Guy Felker,” advised Gordon. “Have you done any work with -the team yet, Lanny?” - -“I’ve had a couple of trials just to see what I could do. Guy is after -me to give him three afternoons a week. I suppose I’ll have to pretty -soon.” - -“Oh, bother the Track Team,” said Way. “It won’t amount to anything and -you’ll lose baseball practice. Cut it out this year, Lanny.” - -“Not much! If it came to a show-down I’d rather run the hundred and -two-twenty than play ball. And don’t you be mistaken about the team -being no good. We’re going to have a mighty good team this year and -we’re going to simply run away from Springdale. You wait and see.” - -“What of it if we do?” grumbled Way. “Who cares?” - -“Most everyone except you, you old pudding-head,” responded Gordon. -“Want me to take her awhile now, Lanny?” - -“No, thank you kindly. Guy’s having a pretty hard time to get fellows -interested in the track, and that’s a fact, but he’s going to win -out all right. Don’t go around talking like that, Way, because it -isn’t fair. Just because you don’t care for track sports, you needn’t -discourage other fellows.” - -“Oh, I haven’t said anything to discourage anyone. For that matter, if -Guy wants to get a team together I wish him luck. But I don’t think -there’s room for football and baseball and track, too. We ought to――to -concentrate.” - -“Rot! Let’s beat Springdale at every old thing we can. Them’s my -sentiments,” announced Morris. “If we could do ’em up at tiddley-winks -I’d be in favor of starting a team!” - -“And I suppose you’d play left wink on it,” laughed Way. - -It was well after three o’clock before the Flying Juggernaut completed -her last trip across the field and the moon was well down toward the -west. Four very tired boys――and sleepy, too, now that the effects -of the coffee were working off――rolled across to the gate, unbarred -it, rolled through, closed it behind them, and set off again along -Common Street. Somehow they cared less about discovery now and didn’t -even take the trouble to lower their voices as they rumbled past the -darkened houses. Morris announced that they had made a mistake in -the name of the steam roller; that its right name was “Reverberating -Reginald.” The others were too sleepy to argue about it, however. - -Gordon, who had taken Lanny’s place at the wheel, turned into the -cross street and headed Reginald toward his berth. They didn’t take -the precaution to send scouters ahead now, and perhaps it wasn’t worth -while since the street lay plainly before them for several blocks. And -perhaps what happened would have happened just the same. Lanny always -insisted that it wouldn’t, but never could prove his point. At all -events, what did happen was this: - -Just as they had trundled over the crossing at Main Street a voice -reached them above the noise of the roller and a figure suddenly -stepped into the road a few yards ahead. One very startled glance at -the figure was sufficient. With a fine unanimity four forms detached -themselves from the sheltering gloom of the steam roller and fled -back along the road. Possibly the policeman was so surprised at the -sudden result of his challenge that pursuit did not occur to him, or, -possibly, the continued stately advance of the steam roller in his -direction disconcerted him. At all events the boys became mere flying -shapes in the distance before the officer took action. When he did he -stepped nimbly out of the path of the roller and remarked stentoriously -as it rumbled by: - -“Hi, there! What’s this? Where you goin’ with that roller, hey?” - -As there was no response he went after it, discovering to his surprise -that the reason he had received no reply was that there was no one -there to offer it! What occurred subsequently would have hugely -diverted a spectator had there been one, which there wasn’t. On and -on went the roller, moving further and further toward the sidewalk, -and on and on trotted the policeman, making ineffectual efforts to -board it. He had a very healthy respect for engines and wasn’t at all -certain that this one might not resent his company. At last, however, -desperation gave him courage and he stumbled onto the platform and -began to pull, push or twist every movable thing he could lay hands -on. The results were disconcerting. A cloud of white steam burst forth -from somewhere with an alarming rush and hiss, a shrill, excruciating -whistle shattered the night and a tiny stream of very hot water -sprayed down his sleeve! But the roller kept right on rolling, -majestically, remorselessly! - -The policeman gave up in despair and rapped loudly with his club for -assistance. At that moment the roller, heedless of his appeal, reached -the intersection of Lafayette Street and, no longer restrained by the -curbing against which it had been grinding, angled purposefully across -and collided violently with a lamp-post. The lamp-post gave appreciably -under the unexpected assault and the light flared wildly and expired. -The steam roller, although its further progress was barred, kept on -revolving its big wheels and the policeman, picking himself up, rescued -his helmet from the coal-box and hurried from the scene. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -ON DICK’S PORCH - - -“After that,” said Gordon, “I don’t know just what did happen. I was -too busy getting away from there to look back. I cut across an open -field and got into the shadow of the fence on Louise Street and pretty -soon Way came along. Where Lanny and Morris got to I don’t know. Maybe -they’re still running!” - -It was Sunday morning and Gordon and Dick were seated on the latter’s -porch. Dick, who had listened to his friend’s narration with much -amusement, laughed again. - -“And you forgot to turn off the steam before you jumped, eh?” - -“No, I didn’t exactly forget to,” replied Gordon judicially. “I thought -of it, all right, but I couldn’t locate the throttle thing. You see, -it all happened so suddenly that there wasn’t time to do much but run. -That silly cop must have been standing in front of the little shed the -contractors put up out there last year and we never suspected he was -anywhere around until he jumped out on us about twenty feet ahead. He -shouldn’t have done that. He might have caused us heart-failure.” - -“Haven’t you been over yet to see what happened to the roller?” Dick -asked. - -“I have not,” was the emphatic reply. “Maybe this afternoon I’ll sort -of happen out there, but it might look suspicious if I went this -morning. I suppose there’ll be a dickens of a row about it. There -wasn’t anything in the paper, was there?” Gordon glanced at the Sunday -_Reporter_ on Dick’s knees. - -“No, but I suppose the paper was out before it happened. Do you think -the policeman recognized any of you?” - -“I don’t know. He might. We didn’t give him much chance, but, still, -it was broad moonlight. Gee, I’d like to know what happened to that -roller!” - -“Call up the police station and ask,” suggested Dick gravely. - -“Yes, I will!” But Gordon’s tone contradicted the statement. “Guess -I’ll call up Lanny and see if he got home. I had a fine time getting -in. There wasn’t a window unlatched and I had to squirm through the -coal hole. I made a horrible noise when I dropped, too. I thought the -coal would never get through sliding!” - -“Did you get caught?” - -Gordon shook his head doubtfully. “I guess mother knows, all right, but -I don’t think dad does. Anyway, he didn’t say anything. It was fierce -having to get up at eight o’clock! I felt like a――a――――” - -“You still look like it,” laughed Dick. “Well, anyway, you got the job -done, and that’s something, even if you do go to jail for a while!” - -“What do you suppose they’ll do?” asked Gordon uneasily. - -“Oh, I don’t believe they’ll be hard on you. Maybe a small fine and a -month in jail.” - -“Quit your kidding! If I go to jail I’ll see that you come, too.” - -“I’ve always understood that there was honor even amongst thieves,” -responded the other, “but I see that I was――hello, see who’s here!” - -It was Lanny who closed the gate behind him and walked up the short -path with a weary grin on his face. “Good morning,” he said, as he -sank to the top step and leaned his head against the pillar. “Also -good-night.” He closed his eyes and snored loudly. - -“What became of you?” asked Gordon. - -“What became of me?” Lanny opened his eyes protestingly. “When do you -mean?” - -“Last night, of course. Where did you run to?” - -“Last night? Run? I don’t understand you. I went to bed quite early -last night and slept very nicely. Once I thought I heard a noise, a -sort of jarring, rumbling noise, but I paid no attention to it. What a -beautiful morning it is! ‘O Beauteous Spring, thou art――――’” His head -settled back against the pillar again. - -The others laughed, and Dick remarked soberly: “I suppose you’ve heard -that they got Morris?” - -Lanny opened his eyes once more and winked gravely. “I just had him -on the phone a few minutes ago.” He smiled wanly. “He couldn’t get in -the house when he got back and had to sleep out in the stable in a -carriage.” - -“How about you?” asked Gordon. - -Lanny waved a hand carelessly. “No trouble at all. Merely shinned up -a water-spout and got in the linen closet window. Then I fell over a -carpet-sweeper and went to bed. I shall insist on having a latch-key -after this.” - -“But where the dickens did you and Morris run to?” insisted Gordon. “I -never saw you once after I turned into the field.” - -“By that time I was shinning up the spout,” replied Lanny. “You see, -I had a fine start on you, Gordie. I don’t know just what my time was -for the distance, but I’ll bet it was mighty good. I’m pretty sure that -I did the first two-twenty yards in something under twenty seconds! As -for Morris, I never saw him. He says he fell over something and lay -in the grass for about half an hour and then went home by way of the -river. Something of a detour, that!” - -“Well, tell me one thing, Lanny,” said Dick. “Did the rolling do the -field any good?” - -Lanny became almost animated. “It certainly did! Want to go over and -have a look at it?” Dick shook his head. “Well, it made a lot of -difference. Of course, as I told the others, it ought to have been gone -over two or three times to get it in real good shape, but it’s at least -a hundred per cent. better than it was before. I was afraid it might -be too dry, but it wasn’t. That old roller just squashed it right down -in great style. I think we broke the board around the track in a few -places, but it was pretty rotten anyway.” - -“That’s good; I mean about the field. As I just said to Gordie, if you -fellows have got to go to jail it’s sort of a satisfaction that you -accomplished something. I’ll send you fruit and old magazines now and -then, and a month will soon pass.” - -“Is that really and truly so? Your kindness――――” - -“And I told _him_,” interrupted Gordon, “that if we went to jail I’d -see that he went along.” - -“Naturally.” Lanny hugged his knees and smiled pleasantly at Dick. “We -couldn’t be happy without you, Dickums. Yes, you’ll have to go along -even if it’s necessary for us to swear that you were the ring-leader. -I’d be sorry for your folks, Dick, but――――” Lanny shook his head -inexorably. Then: “By the by, what about Way?” - -“I left him at the corner of Common Street,” replied Gordon. “I guess -he managed all right.” - -“He ought to have; he’s the manager,” said Lanny, with a yawn. “My -word, fellows, but I’m sleepy! And I had to pretend to be Little -Bright-Eyes at breakfast, too. I know I’ll fall asleep in church and -snore!” - -“Do you think that cop recognized us, Lanny?” Gordon asked. - -“Don’t ask me. If he did we’ll know about it soon enough. Look here, -whose idea was it, anyway? Who got us into this scrape?” - -“Of course, you didn’t,” answered Gordon gravely, “and I’m certain I -didn’t. I guess it was Dick, wasn’t it?” - -Lanny seemed about to assent until Dick reached for a crutch. Then: -“No, I don’t think it was Dick,” he replied. “You have only to look at -his innocent countenance to know that he would never do such a thing. -Guess it was Morris. He isn’t here, and, besides, his dad’s got enough -influence and coin to buy him off. I’m certain it was Morris.” - -“So it was; I remember now. Another time we’ll know better than to -listen to his evil suggestions.” And Gordon sighed deeply. - -“He’s older than we are, too, which makes it more――more deplorable.” - -“You have a wonderful command of the English language this morning,” -laughed Dick. “I’d love to listen to you some time when you’re feeling -fresh and quite wide-awake!” - -“Thank you for those few kind words,” responded Lanny gratefully. “I -shan’t attempt to conceal from you the fact that I am slightly drowsy -to-day. Well, I’ve got to go back and report for church parade. You -coming, Gordie?” - -“I suppose so.” Gordon got up with a sigh. - -“Come around after dinner,” suggested Dick, “and we’ll get in Eli -and take a ride. We might roll around to the scene of the late -unpleasantness and see what finally happened to that roller!” - -“All right,” Lanny agreed, “only don’t display too great an interest in -the thing when you get there. Let us be――er――circumspect.” - -“I don’t like the sound of that word,” murmured Gordon; “that is, the -first and last syllables! Change it to ‘cautious,’ Lanny.” - -“Very well, let us be cautious. Farewell, Dickums!” - -Their visit in the runabout to Brent’s Addition that afternoon proved -unsatisfactory. The steam roller, looking as innocent as you like, was -back where they had found it and there was nothing to tell what had -happened subsequent to their hurried departure. It was not until Monday -morning that they had their curiosity satisfied, and then it was the -_Reporter_ that did it. The _Reporter_ had chosen to treat the story -with humor, heading it - - ROAD ROLLER RUNS AMUCK! - -It told how Officer Suggs, while patrolling his lonely beat on the -outskirts of our fair city, had had his attention attracted by -mysterious sounds on Aspen Avenue. The intrepid guardian of the law had -thereupon concealed himself in ambush just in time to behold, coming -toward him, one of the Street Department’s steam rollers. Ordered to -stop and give an account of itself, the roller had promptly attacked -the officer. The latter, with rare presence of mind, leaped to a place -of safety and the roller, emitting a roar of rage and disappointment, -tried to escape. Then followed a vivid account of the pursuit, the -disorderly conduct of the roller, the wanton attack on the lamp-post -and the final subjugation and arrest of the marauder, an arrest not -consummated until several members of the police force and employees of -the Street Department had been hurried to the scene. It made a good -story and at least five of the _Reporter’s_ readers enjoyed it vastly. -To their relief the paper ended with the encouraging statement that -“so far the police are unable to offer any satisfactory explanation of -the affair. Superintendent Burns, of the Street Department, hints that -some person or persons unknown had a hand in the matter, but to the -_Reporter_ it looks like a remarkable case of inanimate depravity.” - -And that ended the matter, save that eventually the true story leaked -out, as such things will, and became generally known throughout the -school. Whether it ever reached the ears of Superintendent Burns is not -known. If it did he took no action. - -Brent Field profited in any case. That Monday afternoon the improvement -in the condition of the ground was so noticeable that many fellows -remarked on it. Fortunately, though, they were quite satisfied with the -casual explanation that it had been “fixed up a bit,” and for some -reason the marks left by the passage of the roller, plainly visible, -failed to connect themselves with the story in that morning’s paper. -Perhaps the principal reason for this was that very few of the fellows -read anything in the _Reporter_ outside of the sporting page. The -infield, and especially the base paths, was more level and smoother -than it had ever been, and during practice that afternoon there were -far fewer errors that could be laid to inequalities of the surface. -To be sure, when Harry Bryan let a ball bound through his hands he -promptly picked up a pebble and disgustedly tossed it away, but the -excuse didn’t carry the usual conviction. - -Practice went well that afternoon. Fielding was cleaner and it really -looked to Dick as though his charges were at last finding their -batting eyes. Bryan, Cotner and Merrick all hit the ball hard in the -four-inning contest with the practice team, the former getting two -two-baggers in two turns at bat and Cotner connecting with one of -Tom Nostrand’s offerings for a three-base hit. The First Team had no -trouble in winning the decision, the score being 5 to 1. Meanwhile, on -the cinders the Track Team candidates were busy, and over on the Main -Street side of the field, where the pits were located, the jumpers -and weight-throwers were trying themselves out as extensively as the -ever-watchful “Skeet” would allow. Fudge Shaw, looking heroic――and -slightly rotund――in a brand-new white shirt, trunks and spiked shoes, -was taking his turn with the shot. So far only three other youths -had chosen to contest with him for the mastery in this event, but -unfortunately for Fudge two of the three were older fellows with -experience and brawn. One, Harry Partridge, a senior and a tackle on -the football team, was in command of the shot-putters. Partridge was -a good sort usually, Fudge considered, but to-day he was certainly -impatient and censorious, not to mention sarcastic! - -“Look here, Fudge,” he asked after the tyro had let the shot roll off -the side of his hand and dribble away for a scant twelve feet in a -direction perilously close to a passing broad-jumper, “who ever told -you you could put the shot, anyway? You don’t know the first thing -about it! Now come back here and let me tell you for the fiftieth -time that the shot leaves your hand over the tips of your fingers and -doesn’t roll off the side. I’m not saying anything just now about your -spring or your shoulder work. All I’m trying to do is to get it into -that ivory knob of yours that the shot rests _here_ and that it leaves -your hand _so_! Now cut out all the movements and let me see you hold -it right and get it away right. Thank you, that’s very rotten! Go -ahead, Thad. Try not to foul this time. You start too far forward. -That’s better! Did you see――look here, Shaw, if you’re out here to put -the shot you watch what’s going on and never mind the jumpers! If you -don’t watch how these other fellows do it you never will learn! All -right, Falkland!” - -“Maybe,” said Fudge when he and Perry were walking home, “maybe I’d -rather be a broad-jumper, anyway. This shot-putting’s a silly stunt!” - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -FOILED! - - -Whether Fudge really believed all he professed to regarding the -mysterious occupant of Room 12 in the brick building on G Street is -a question. Fudge, being an author of highly sensational romances, -doubtless possessed a little more imagination than common and liked to -give it free rein. Probably it is safe to say that he believed about -half. Perry, less imaginative and far more practical, had been at first -taken in by Fudge and had really credited most if not quite all that -Fudge had asserted. When, however, another week passed and nothing -startling happened, he began to lose faith. Almost every morning the -supposed desperado ate his breakfast in full view of Perry very much -as anyone else would have eaten it, rationally clothed and exhibiting -absolutely none of the tricks or manners popularly associated with -criminals. He did not, for instance, suddenly pause to glance furtively -from the window. Nor did he ever, when Perry was looking, shrug his -shoulders as villains always did on the screen at the theater. In -short, as a criminal he was decidedly disappointing! - -One morning he actually laughed. Perry couldn’t hear the laugh, but -he could see it, and there was nothing sardonic about it. It was just -a jolly, chuckling sort of laugh, apparently inspired by something in -the morning paper. Perry’s own features creased in sympathy. After that -Perry found it very difficult to place credence in the “safe-breaker” -theory. Then, too, Fudge failed to develop any new evidence. In fact, -to all appearances, Fudge had gone to sleep on his job. When Perry -mentioned the matter to him Fudge would frown portentously and intimate -that affairs had reached a point where mental rather than physical -exertion counted most. Perry, though, was no longer deceived. - -“Huh,” he said one day, “there was nothing in that yarn of yours and -you’ve found it out. What’s the good of pretending any more?” - -Fudge looked sarcastic and mysterious but refused to bandy words. His -“If-you-knew-all-I-know” air slightly impressed the other, and Perry -begged to be taken into the secret. But Fudge showed that he felt -wounded by his friend’s defection and took himself off in dignified -silence. When he had reached home and had settled himself on the -platform in the apple tree, however, Fudge realized that his reputation -and standing as an authority on crime and its detection was in danger. -Something, consequently, must be done to restore Perry’s confidence. -But what? He thought hard and long, so long that twilight grew to -darkness before he left his retreat and hurried to the house for -supper. He had, though, solved his problem. - -The next day, which was Saturday, he presented himself at Perry’s at -a little after nine o’clock. Perry, who had been practicing starts on -the weed-grown path at the side of the house, joined him on the front -porch somewhat out of breath and with his thoughts far from the subject -of crime and criminals, clews and detectives. One glance at Fudge’s -countenance, however, told him that matters of importance were about -to be divulged. He pocketed his grips and prepared to listen and be -impressed. Briefly, what Fudge had to say was this: - -He had, he found, been slightly mistaken regarding Mr. Myron Addicks. -The mistake was a natural one. It consisted of classifying Mr. -Addicks as a safe-breaker instead of a train-robber. Fudge did not -explain clearly by what marvelous mental processes he had arrived -at a knowledge of his error, or perhaps the fault was with Perry’s -understanding. At all events, the result was there and already his new -theory had been proven correct. He had that very morning, not more than -twenty minutes ago, read, in the local office of the American Express -Company, a description of one “Edward Hurley, alias John Crowell, alias -John Fenney,” wanted by the company for the robbery of an express -car at Cartwright, Utah, on February seventeenth last, which exactly -tallied with the appearance of Mr. Myron Addicks, allowing, of course, -for certain efforts at disguise. Fudge had copied the salient points of -the placard in the express office and referred now to his memorandum, -written on the back of a money order blank: “Age, about 28. Height, 5 -feet, 10 inches. Weight, about 170 pounds. Dark brown hair, blue eyes, -complexion dark. Was clean-shaven when last seen, but has probably -grown beard or mustache. Carries himself erect. Has white scar about -two inches in length on back of left forearm.” - -“There was a picture of him, too,” said Fudge, “but I guess it wasn’t -a very good one, because he had his head thrown back and his eyes half -closed and was scowling like anything. It must have been taken by the -police.” - -“What is the reward?” asked Perry breathlessly. - -“Five hundred dollars, it said. Maybe they’d pay more, though.” - -“That would be two hundred and fifty apiece,” reflected the other. -“That wouldn’t be so bad, would it? But――but it doesn’t seem to me that -the description is much like this fellow. Did the picture look like -him?” - -“Well,” replied Fudge judicially, “it did and then again it didn’t. -You see, the fellow’s face was all screwed up, and he didn’t have any -mustache. A mustache makes a lot of difference in your looks, you know. -But the description fits him to a T. ‘Dark brown hair, blue eyes――――’” - -“I don’t think this chap’s eyes are blue, though.” - -“I’ll bet you anything they are! What color are they then?” - -“I don’t know,” confessed Perry. - -“No, and there you are! He’s about five feet, ten inches high, isn’t -he?” Perry nodded doubtfully. “And he weighs about a hundred and -seventy pounds, doesn’t he? And his complexion’s dark and he carries -himself erect! And he has a false mustache, and the notice said he -would probably have one. Oh, it’s our man all right! Don’t you worry! -Besides, don’t you see this explains his wearing that cowboy get-up you -saw him in? That’s probably what he was. Lots of train-robbers were -cowboys first-off.” - -“Maybe,” said Perry thoughtfully. “But――but supposing we proved it on -him.” - -“Well?” - -“Would you want to――to give him away?” - -Fudge hesitated. “I wouldn’t _want_ to,” he said at last, “but it’s the -duty of a good citizen to aid in the apprehension of lawbreakers, isn’t -it? And, besides, someone would get that five hundred sooner or later, -wouldn’t they? Bound to! You bet! Well, there you are!” - -But Perry looked unconvinced. “I don’t think I’d like to,” he murmured -presently. “Anyhow, maybe we’re mistaken. Maybe his eyes aren’t blue. -If we could get a look at his arm――――” - -“That’s just what we’ve got to do,” replied Fudge. “That’s what will -tell.” - -“But how?” - -“I haven’t decided that yet. There are ways. You leave it to me. I -guess he’s just hiding out here, Perry. I mean I don’t believe he is -thinking of doing another job just yet. He’s probably waiting for this -to blow over. I told you he was a slick one!” - -“But if he really was wanted for robbing that train,” objected Perry, -“it doesn’t seem to me he’d show himself around the way he’s doing. -He’d hide, wouldn’t he, Fudge?” - -“Where? He is hiding. He wears that mustache and he’s trusting to that, -you see. Why, if he went sneaking around the police would notice him -at once, Perry. So he comes right out in public; makes believe he’s a -civil engineer and plays the piano in a theater. You don’t suppose, do -you, that the police would ever think of looking in a moving picture -house for an escaped train-robber? Say, he must sort of laugh to -himself when he sees those train-robbery films, eh?” - -“But if he wears that mustache when he goes out, Fudge, why does he -take it off when he’s in his room?” - -“Maybe it isn’t comfortable. I should think it mightn’t be.” - -“Yes, but he must know that most anyone can see him when he sits at his -window like that in the morning.” - -Fudge was silent for a moment. Then: “Perhaps he doesn’t think of -that,” he suggested weakly. “Anyhow, what we’ve got to do is see first -if his eyes are blue, and after that whether he has a scar on his arm. -We might wait in front of the theater this afternoon, only there’s the -ball game and we don’t want to miss that.” - -“That isn’t until three, and the theater begins at two.” - -“That’s so! We’ll do it, then! I’ll be around right after dinner, and -we’ll watch for him. Say, what would you do with two hundred and fifty -dollars, Perry?” - -Perry shook his head. “I don’t know. Guess I’d give it to dad, all but -twenty-five dollars, maybe. What would you?” - -Fudge shook his head also. “Search me! Well, we haven’t got it yet. -I guess I could find things to do with it all right. Say, you don’t -suppose he’s at his window now, do you?” - -They ascended to Perry’s room and looked across, but the opposite -casement was vacant. Nor, although they kept watch for a good ten -minutes, did they catch sight of the suspect. They returned to the -porch. “What we might do,” said Fudge reflectively, “is go and see him -and make believe we wanted some civil engineering done.” - -“We’d look fine doing that!” scoffed Perry. “He’d know right away we -were faking.” - -“I guess so,” Fudge acknowledged. “We might get someone else to do it, -though.” - -“Who?” - -“Well, you might ask your father.” - -“I might, but I’m not likely to,” was the derisive response. “Besides, -all we’ve got to do is to get a good look at him to see whether his -eyes are blue or not.” - -“You don’t suppose folks can change the color of their eyes, do you?” - -“Of course not! How could they?” - -Fudge shook his head. “Criminals know lots of tricks we don’t,” he -replied. “But we’ll soon see.” - -Whereupon Perry went back to practicing starts in the side yard and -Fudge, finding a rock, gave an interesting imitation of putting the -shot. - -They reached the theater at twenty-five minutes before two. Fudge -apologized for being a trifle late, explaining that his mother had -sent him on an errand directly after dinner in spite of his plea of an -important engagement. Still, there was no doubt but that they were in -plenty of time, for the orchestra did not assemble until a few minutes -before two. As there was already quite a throng awaiting the opening -of the doors, they decided to separate and take opposite sides of the -entrance. This they did, Fudge assuming an expression and demeanor -so purposeless that Perry feared he would be arrested as an escaped -lunatic by the policeman on duty there. Several hundreds of persons -passed into the theater, but neither of the boys caught sight of their -quarry, and when, at two o’clock, the strains of the orchestra reached -them, they had to confess themselves defeated. By that time the crowd -had thinned out to a mere dribble of late arrivals and the officer was, -or seemed to them to be, eyeing them with growing suspicion. They were -glad when they had escaped from his chilly stare. - -“I don’t see――――” began Perry. - -“I do!” Fudge interrupted bitterly. “We’re a couple of chumps! Why, the -orchestra chaps go in the stage entrance, of course! And that’s around -in the alley off Pine Street! Gee, we’re a fine pair of dummies, aren’t -we?” - -There was no denying it and so Perry mutely consented with a sorrowful -nod. - -“Well, we’ll know better next time,” said Fudge more cheerfully. “Come -on into Castle’s and have a soda. Only it’ll have to be a five-center, -because I’m pretty nearly strapped. Sleuthing makes a fellow thirsty.” - -Ten minutes later the amateur detectives, forgetting their defeat and -cheered by two glasses of cherry phosphate, started for the field. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -THE GAME WITH NORRISVILLE - - -This afternoon’s contest was the first one of the season with an -outside team. Norrisville Academy, since it was a boarding school, had -the advantage of being able to get into condition rather earlier in the -year than Clearfield High School. To-day’s opponents had, in fact, been -practicing regularly since the latter part of February, since they were -so fortunate as to possess a fine gymnasium with a big and practical -baseball cage. Aside from this advantage, however, Norrisville had -nothing Clearfield hadn’t, and if the latter had enjoyed another -fortnight of practice Dick Lovering would have had no doubt as to -the outcome of the game. But as things were he told himself that he -would be quite satisfied if his charges came through with something -approaching a close score. - -It was a splendid April day, warm and still. There were a good many -clouds about, though, and the morning paper had predicted showers. -With this in mind, Dick resolved to get a good start in the first -few innings, if that were possible, and so presented a line-up that -surprised the large audience of High School rooters that had turned -out for the game. As set down in Manager Wayland’s score-book, the -order of batting was as follows: Bryan, 2b; Farrar, cf; Merrick, 1b; -Jones, ss; Scott, 3b; McCoy, lf; Breen, rf; White, c; Nostrand, p. -This arrangement in Dick’s present judgment presented the team’s best -batting strength. Tom Nostrand was put in the box instead of Tom Haley, -since so far this spring he had out-hit the first-choice pitcher almost -two to one. It takes runs to win a game and runs were what Dick was -after. - -Fudge, occupying one and a third seats behind the home plate, flanked -by Perry on one side and Arthur Beaton, the Track Team Manager, on the -other, viewed the selection of talent dubiously. More than that, he -didn’t hesitate to criticize. Fudge never did. He was a good, willing -critic. No one, though, took him seriously, unless, perhaps, it was the -devoted Perry, who, knowing little of baseball, was ready to concede -much knowledge of the subject to his chum. Arthur Beaton, however, -frankly disagreed with Fudge’s statements. - -“Forget it, Fudge,” he said. “Dick Lovering knew baseball when you -were waving a rattle. Talk about things you understand.” - -“Of course he knows baseball. I’m not saying he doesn’t, am I? What -I’m telling you is that Joe Browne’s a heap better fielder than Howard -Breen.” - -“Maybe, but he isn’t worth two cents as a hitter.” - -“That’s all right. If a fellow fields well enough he doesn’t have to be -any Ty Cobb to make good. It’s all right to go after runs, but if you -let the other fellow get runs, too, what good are you doing? If they -whack a ball into right field it’ll be good for three bases, I tell -you. Breen’s as slow as cold molasses and can’t throw half-way to the -plate!” - -“You’d better slip down there before it’s too late and tell that to -Dick,” said Arthur sarcastically. “He’d be mighty glad to know it.” - -“That’s all right, old scout. You wait and see if I’m not right. I just -hope the first fellow up lams one into right!” - -He didn’t though; he popped a foul to Lanny and retired to the bench. -The succeeding “Norris-villains,” as Fudge called them, were quickly -disposed of at first, and Harry Bryan went to bat for the home team. -Bryan was a heady batsman and had a reputation for getting his base. He -wasn’t particular how he did it. He was a good waiter, had a positive -genius for getting struck with the ball and could, when required, lay -down a well-calculated bunt. Once on the base, he was hard to stop. On -this occasion, he followed Dick’s instructions and was walked after -six pitched balls. Pete Farrar waited until Clayton, the Norrisville -pitcher, had sent a ball and a strike over and then trundled one -down the first base path that started well but unfortunately rolled -out, to the immense relief of the hovering Norrisville pitcher and -first-baseman. With two strikes against him, it was up to Pete to hit -out of the infield, but Captain Jones, coaching at first, sent Bryan -off to second and Pete’s swipe at the ball missed. Bryan, though, -was safe by three feet, and the stands applauded wildly and saw in -imagination the beginning of Clearfield’s scoring. But Bryan never got -beyond second in that inning. Gordon Merrick flied out to shortstop and -Captain Warner Jones, trying his best to hit between second and short, -lined one squarely into second-baseman’s glove. - -Nostrand held the enemy safe once more, although the second man up got -to first on Scott’s error and slid safely to second when the third -batsman was thrown out, Scott to Merrick. A fly to McCoy in left field -ended the suspense. - -It was Will Scott who started things going for the Purple. He was -first up and caught the second offering on the end of his bat and -landed it in short right for a single. McCoy sacrificed nicely and -Scott took second. Breen there and then vindicated Dick’s judgment. -After Clayton had put himself in a hole by trying to give Breen what he -didn’t want, and after the onlookers had gone through a violent attack -of heart-failure when Will Scott was very nearly caught off second, -Breen found something he liked the look of and crashed his bat against -it with the result that Scott sped home and Breen rested on second. - -Dick summoned Lanny and whispered to him and Lanny nodded and strode -to the plate swinging the black bat that was his especial pride and -affection. Norrisville played in and Lanny did what they expected he -would try to do, but did it so well that their defense was unequal to -the task. His bunt toward third was slow and short. Breen landed on the -next bag and Lanny streaked for first. Both third-baseman and catcher -went after the bunt and there was an instant of indecision. Then -third-baseman scooped up the ball and pegged to first. But Lanny, whose -record for sixty yards was six and four-fifths seconds, beat out the -throw. - -Nostrand played a waiting game and had two strikes and a ball on him -before Lanny found his chance to steal. Then, with a good getaway, he -slid to second unchallenged, Nostrand swinging and missing. With men -on third and second and but one down, the world looked bright to the -Clearfield supporters, but when, a moment later, Nostrand’s attempt -at a sacrifice fly popped high and fell into shortstop’s hands, the -outlook dimmed. - -But there was still hope of more runs. With Bryan up, Clearfield might -get a hit. The Norrisville catcher, though, decided that Bryan would -be better on first than at bat and signaled for a pass. Four wide ones -were pitched and Harry trotted to first and the bases were filled. -Theoretically, the Norrisville catcher was right, for with two out -three on bases were no more dangerous than two, and he knew that the -next batsman, Pete Farrar, had earned his location in the line-up -because of his ability to sacrifice rather than to hit out. But for -once theory and practice didn’t agree. Farrar, barred from bunting, -resolved to go to the other extreme and hit as hard and as far as he -could――if he hit at all. For a minute or two it looked as though he was -not to hit at all, for Clayton kept the ball around Farrar’s knees and -registered two strikes against him before Pete realized the fact. Then -came a ball and then a good one that Pete fouled behind first base. -Another ball, and the tally was two and two. Again Pete connected and -sent the ball crashing into the stand. Clayton’s attempt to cut the -corner resulted badly for him, for the umpire judged it a ball. Anxious -coachers danced and shouted jubilantly. - -“He’s got to pitch now, Pete!” bawled Captain Jones. “It’s got to be -good! Here we go! On your toes, Breen! Touch all the bases, Harry! Yip! -Yip! Yip! Yi――――” - -The last “Yip” was never finished, for just when Warner was in -the middle of it bat and ball met with a _crack_ and a number of -things happened simultaneously. The ball went streaking across the -infield, rising as it went, Breen scuttled to the plate, Lanny flew -to third, Harry Bryan sped to second, Pete legged it desperately to -first. Second-baseman made a wild attempt to reach the ball, but -it passed well above his upstretched glove and kept on. Right- and -center-fielders started in, hesitated, changed their minds and raced -back. The spectators, on their feet to a boy――or girl――yelled madly -as fielders and ball came nearer and nearer together far out beyond -the running track in deep center. A brief moment of suspense during -which the shouting died down to little more than a murmur and then the -outcome was apparent and the yelling suddenly arose to new heights. The -fielders slowed down in the shadow of the distant fence, but not so -the ball. It made a fine, heroic effort to pass out of the field but -couldn’t quite do it. Instead it banged against the boards a few inches -from the top and bounded back. It was right-fielder who recovered it -and who, turning quickly, made a fine throw to second-baseman. And -second-baseman did all he could to cut that hit down to a three-bagger, -but Pete was already scuttling to the plate when the ball left his -hand and the throw, being hurried, took the catcher just far enough to -the right to let Pete in. Pete, catcher and ball became interestingly -mixed together for an instant in a cloud of dust and then the umpire, -stooping and spreading his arms with palms downward, returned his -verdict. - -“_He’s safe!_” declared the official. - -The breathless Pete was extricated and pulled triumphantly to the bench -while Norrisville, represented by catcher and pitcher and shortstop, -who was also captain, gathered around the home plate to record their -displeasure at the decision. But Mr. Cochran, physical director at the -Y. M. C. A., discouraged argument and waved them aside politely but -firmly and, while the cheering died away, Gordon Merrick went to bat. -Clayton was shaken by that home-run and seemed absolutely unable to -tell where the plate was, although the catcher despairingly invited -him to come up and have a look at it! Gordon smiled serenely and -presently walked to first. Captain Jones sent him to second with a nice -hit past shortstop and Clearfield got ready to acclaim more tallies. -But Scott’s best was a slow grounder to shortstop and he made the third -out. - -Five runs, however, was enough to win the game, or so, at least, the -delighted Clearfield supporters declared. And so, too, thought the -players themselves. As for their coach, Dick hoped the game was safe, -but he meant to take no chances and so when in the next inning, after -his own players had failed to add to the total, Norrisville began to -show a liking for Tom Nostrand’s delivery by getting two safeties and -putting a man on third before the side was retired, Dick sent Tom Haley -to warm up. - -There was no more scoring by either team until the first of the sixth. -Then Haley had a bad inning. The first Norrisville batter laid down a -bunt toward the pitcher’s box and Tom, fielding it hurriedly, pegged -it far over Merrick’s head. The runner slid to second in safety. That -mishap unsettled Haley and he filled the bases by passing the next two -men. That Clearfield finally got out of the hole with only two runs -against her might well be considered a piece of good fortune. In the -last of the sixth Clearfield added one more tally and the score stood -6 to 2. Neither side scored in the seventh. - -For my part, I’d like to lower the curtain. Clearfield should have -had that game. But it wasn’t to be. Perhaps the home players were -too certain. At all events, errors began to crop out at the most -unfortunate times, and these, coupled with Tom Haley’s erratic -pitching, were the Purple’s undoing. It was Captain Jones himself -who booted an easy hit that might have been a double and instead of -retiring the side in the first of the eighth, let two more runs cross -the plate. Then Haley hit a batsman, donated a third base on balls -and finally allowed a hard-slugging Norrisville man to slap out a -two-bagger. When the worst was over the score was tied, and so it -remained throughout the ninth inning and the tenth and the eleventh and -the twelfth. And when that was over darkness had descended and eighteen -very tired players heard with relief the umpire call the game. And -several hundred spectators, rather stiff and chilly and hungry, went -disappointedly home to supper. - -“I knew mighty well,” declared Fudge as he and Perry made their way -through the twilight, “that we could never win with _that_ line-up! You -heard me tell Harry so, too, didn’t you?” - -And Perry, being a good chum, assented. - -The next day it rained. Not enough, as Fudge bitterly reflected, to -keep a fellow from going to church, but sufficiently to make sojourning -out of doors in the afternoon a very wet and unpleasant business. -It drizzled, but the drizzle was much more of a rain than a mist, -and when, about three o’clock, Fudge went across town to Perry’s -house he arrived in a fairly damp condition. Being damp affected -Fudge’s naturally sunny disposition. It didn’t make him cross, but -it gave him an injured and slightly pathetic expression and tinged -his utterances with gloom and pessimism. He wasn’t a very cheerful -companion to-day, and Perry, who had been having a rather comfortable -and cozy time curled up on the black horse-hair lounge in the Doctor’s -reception-room――also used as a parlor on extraordinary occasions――with -a volume of Du Chaillu’s travels which he had happened on in the -book-case, almost wished that his friend had stayed at home. They went -up to Perry’s room and sat by the open window and watched the drizzle -and talked desultorily of track and field work and yesterday’s game -and of many other things. The affair of the “train-robber” was, it -seemed by mutual agreement, avoided; it was not a day to inspire one -to detecting. The “train-robber’s” window was open across the back -yard, but no one appeared at it. Fudge had drawn the conversation back -to shot-putting and was indulging in a few well-chosen disparaging -remarks with regard to the overbearing manner of Harry Partridge when -sounds came to them. Of course sounds had been coming to them for -half an hour; the patter of rain, the quiet footfalls of Mrs. Hull -below-stairs, the whistle of the three-twenty-two train crossing the -bridge and such ordinary noises; but this was new and different. Perry -drew Fudge’s attention to it and then listened puzzledly. At first it -seemed to come from around the corner of the house, but presently they -located it in the room occupied by the “train-robber.” They crowded -their heads through the window and strained their ears. - -“What’s he doing?” demanded Fudge in a hoarse whisper after a minute or -two. - -“I think”――Perry hesitated――“I think he’s singing!” - -“Singing!” - -“Yes; listen!” They listened. Perry was right. The sounds that issued -from the window were undoubtedly those of a man’s voice raised in song. -What the words of the song were they couldn’t make out, but the tune, -if it deserved the name, was peculiarly slow and doleful. - -“Jimminy, he must be feeling bad!” muttered Fudge. - -“Sounds like a――a dirge, doesn’t it?” - -“Awful!” They tried hard to hear what it was all about, but as the -singer was evidently well back from the window and as the window was -some little distance away, they failed. Finally they drew their heads -in, being by that time somewhat wet, and viewed each other inquiringly. -Then, without a word, Fudge lifted his cap from the table, Perry, -equally silent, moved toward the door and the two quietly descended the -staircase. Perry got his cap from the tree in the front hall and they -slipped through the front door, across the porch and into the drizzle. - -Two minutes later they were climbing the stairs in the brick building -on G Street, looking very much like the desperate conspirators they -felt themselves to be. A pleasant odor from the bakery on the first -floor pursued them as they noiselessly ascended the staircase and crept -along the first hall. The building was silent and apparently deserted -until, half-way up the second flight, from behind the closed door and -transom of Number 7, came the muffled tones of a deep bass voice in -monotonous, wailing cadence. The boys paused at the head of the stairs -and listened. Words came to them, but only occasionally. They tip-toed -nearer. That was better. They could hear fairly well now. - - “I wash in a pool and wipe on a sack, - And carry my wardrobe right on my back. - For want of a stove I cook bread in a pot, - And sleep on the ground for want of a cot.” - -As the voices of the Sirens lured Ulysses of old, so the doleful -strains lured Perry and Fudge nearer and nearer. - - “My ceiling’s the sky and my carpet’s the grass, - My music’s the lowing of herds as they pass. - My books are the streams and my Bible’s a stone, - My preacher’s a wolf on a pulpit of bones.” - -By now the two boys were standing on either side of the door, listening -raptly. - - “The preacher he says from his pulpit of bones - That the Lord favors those who look out for their own. - My friends often hint――――” - -The wails ceased. A moment’s silence ensued. Then the door was suddenly -opened, and: - -“Come right in, pardners,” said a voice. “Everything’s free!” - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -THE WHITE SCAR - - -They were two very startled youths who leaped back as the door -unexpectedly opened and who, for a breathless instant, gazed -speechlessly at the man confronting them. He was tall, wide-shouldered -and narrow-hipped, with a frank, good-looking face, clean-shaven, on -which at the moment a quizzical smile rested. He had laid aside coat -and vest, and under the uprolled sleeves of his white shirt his long -arms showed muscles like whip-cords. It was Fudge who found his voice -first. - -“I――I――W-w-we――――” - -“No savvy, hombre. Start again.” - -“W-we were j-j-just list-list-list――――” - -“Listening,” said Perry helpfully. - -“Well, I hope you liked it. Come on in. We’re all friends together.” - -“No, thanks,” said Perry, embarrassed. “We just happened to hear you -singing――――” - -“Hooray!” exclaimed the man. “That’s sure fine! Shake, pardner!” - -And Perry found himself shaking hands most enthusiastically with the -strange person and, at the same time, being drawn through the doorway. -He tried to hold back, but it was utterly useless. Fudge, his startled -expression vastly increased, followed doubtfully and the man closed the -door. He was smiling broadly. - -“Sit down, boys, and tell me your sweet, sad tale. You sure have made -a big hit with me, all right. No one ever called that noise of mine -singing before. Yes, sir, muchachos, you’ve won me!” - -“I――we thought it was very”――Perry searched for a word――“very nice -singing.” - -“P-P-Peachy,” supplemented Fudge, smiling ingratiatingly, and then -casting a troubled look at the closed door. To be shut in like this at -the mercy of a train-robber had not been within his calculations. To -increase his uneasiness, Fudge noted that his host’s eyes were blue, -light grayish-blue, but still to all intents and purposes blue! He -looked meaningly at Perry, wondering whether, if they started together, -they could reach the door before they were intercepted. The man had -made them take two of the three chairs and perched himself on a corner -of the table in the middle of the room. - -“I hope I didn’t scare you when I pulled the door open,” he said. -“Wouldn’t want to do that, you know. Too flattered at having an -audience.” - -“No, sir, we weren’t scared,” Perry assured him not too truthfully. “We -oughtn’t have done it, but――we heard you and――――” - -“Just couldn’t resist it, eh? Was it the words or the tune that -hypnotized you?” He regarded Perry very gravely indeed, but there was a -twinkle in his blue eyes. - -Perry smiled weakly. - -“I――I guess it was the words,” he said. - -“I’ll bet it was! That’s a nice song. I’ll teach it to you some time if -you like. Haven’t I seen you boys around town?” - -Perry nodded, casting a quick glance at Fudge. Fudge, however, had his -gaze set longingly on the door. - -“I thought so. I’ve got a good memory for faces. Pretty good ears, -too.” He laughed. “I suppose you fellows thought you weren’t making a -sound out there? Well, I heard you when you first came along the hall. -Live around here, do you?” - -“I do,” answered Perry. “He doesn’t.” - -“Well, let’s tell our names. Mine’s Addicks.” - -“My name is Hull and his is Shaw. My first name is Perry.” - -“Perry Hull, eh? Sounds like something out of a history of the American -Navy. Any relation to the celebrated commodores?” - -“No, sir, I don’t think so.” - -“What’s his name to his friends?” asked the host, nodding toward Fudge. - -“Fud――that is, William.” - -“My first name’s Myron. I don’t know why they called me that, but they -did. Doesn’t he ever talk?” Again Mr. Addicks indicated the absorbed -Fudge. - -“I was j-j-just thinking,” replied the latter. - -“Oh! What were you thinking?” - -Fudge regarded the questioner doubtfully. “Lots of things,” he muttered -darkly. - -Mr. Addicks laughed. “Sounds interesting, the way you tell it! I dare -say you chaps go to school?” - -“Yes, sir, High School,” replied Perry. “We’re both juniors.” - -“Good leather! Go in for sports, do you? Football, baseball, those -things?” - -“A little. Fudge plays baseball and football some. I play football, -too.” - -“So his name is Fudge, is it? William Fudge Shaw, I suppose.” - -“It’s just a nickname,” explained Perry. - -“I savvy. William week-days and Fudge Sunday, eh?” Perry smiled -politely at the joke, but Fudge’s expression remained serious and -distrustful. “I’d like to see you fellows play some time,” continued -their host. “I used to play football at college, but I never tried -baseball. Didn’t have time. Sprinting and hurdling were my stunts. Do -you have a track team at your school?” - -“Yes, sir,” answered Perry eagerly, “and he and I are trying for it -this year. Fudge is learning to put the shot and throw the hammer and -I’m trying the sprints.” - -“You don’t say? How old are you, Hull?” - -“Fifteen.” - -“You look older. What’s your time for the hundred?” - -“I――I don’t know yet. Skeet――he’s our coach――gave me a trial the other -day, but he wouldn’t tell me what my time was.” - -Mr. Addicks nodded. “I see. What’s the school record?” - -Perry didn’t know, but Fudge supplied the information. “It’s ten and a -fifth. Lanny White did it last year against Springdale.” - -“That’s good work! I’d like to see that chap run. I suppose you have -your work-outs in the afternoons, don’t you? If I didn’t have to――if I -wasn’t so busy I’d come out and look you over. My record was ten flat -for the hundred when I was in college, and fifteen and two-fifths over -the high hurdles. I never could do much at the two-twenty distance, -sprint or hurdles. I did do the low hurdles once in twenty-six flat, -but that was in practice.” - -“What college did you go to?” asked Fudge, forgetting his suspicion for -the moment. - -“Morgan,” answered the man, and smiled at their perplexity. “It’s in -Nebraska. Ever hear of it?” - -They shook their heads, looking apologetic. - -“I suppose not. It’s a long ride from here. Good little college, -though. I spent a right comfortable three years there.” - -“Does it take but three years to get through there?” asked Fudge. “I’d -like to go there myself, I guess.” - -“No, but I was in a hurry, so I finished up in three. Had to get out -and hustle me a living, you see. Not but what I wasn’t doing that after -a fashion all the time.” He paused and chuckled deeply. “Ran a livery -stable.” - -“A livery stable! While you were in college?” asked Fudge. - -“You said it, hombre. Had to do something. Didn’t have much of anything -but what I had on when I struck college. Paid them a half-year’s -tuition――education’s cheap out that way, friends, and it’s good, -too――and looked around for something to work at. Didn’t find anything -at first and so one day I go down to a stable run by a poor thing name -of Cheeny and hires me a bronch for a couple of hours. I can always -think a heap better when I’m on a horse, it seems. Well, thinking -doesn’t do me much good this time, though, and I heads back to town -telling myself the best thing I can do is roll my blanket and hit the -trail. But when I gets back to the stable, which isn’t much more than -a shed and a corral built of railway ties set on end, this poor thing -name of Cheeny says to me: ‘Know anyone wants to buy a nice livery -business?’ ‘Supposing I did?’ says I, squinting around the shack. ‘Why, -here it is,’ he says. Well, to come right down to brass tacks, he and -I did business after a day or two. He wanted to hike back to Missouri, -which he ought never to have left, and we made a dicker. I was to pay -him so much a month till we were square. ’Course I knew that, as he’d -been running the place, he wasn’t making enough to pay his feed bill, -but I had a notion I could do a bit better. Did, too. What I bought -wasn’t much――half a dozen carriages about ready to fall to pieces, five -bronchos and a little grain and alfalfa. The bronchs weren’t so bad, -if you excuse their looks. What they needed mostly was food. Trouble -was, though, that everyone out there who needed a horse had one, and I -saw that if I was to make anything on that investment I’d have to make -my own market. Which I did.” - -“How did you do it?” asked Perry eagerly. - -“Introduced the wholesome recreation of riding. Used to take a string -of bronchs up to college in the afternoon and stand ’em outside the -Hall. Then when anyone came along I’d ask him if he didn’t want to hire -a horse for two bits an hour. At first I just got laughed at. Then one -or two fellows tried it for a lark, and after that it went fine. I gave -riding lessons to some of the girls――Morgan is co-ed, you know――and the -next year I had to buy me more horses. Paid that poor thing name of -Cheeny in full before I’d been there six months. When I left I sold out -to a man from Lincoln and did right well. Now you talk.” - -“Wh-what did you do next?” asked Fudge interestedly. - -“Went down to Texas and got a job with a firm of engineers who were -running a new railway down to the Gulf. I’d taken a course of civil -engineering. Met up with a slick customer who looked like a down-east -preacher and went shares with him on some oil land. Still got it. -Something happened to the railway about that time and they stopped -work. That left me strapped and I hired out as a ranch hand. After that -I went to punching down near Las Topas.” - -“Punching?” queried Fudge. - -“Cows.” - -“You mean you were a cowboy?” asked Perry eagerly. - -“Four years of it.” - -“Gee!” sighed Perry. “That must have been great!” - -Mr. Addicks laughed. “Well, some of it wasn’t so bad. I liked it pretty -well. I was always crazy about horses and riding. I got enough of it, -though. It don’t get you anything. An uncle of mine died and a lawyer -wrote me I was the old chap’s heir and had better beat it back here -and claim the estate. Which I did.” He smiled wryly. “The estate was a -tumble-down farm-house about three miles from here on the Springdale -road with a mortgage all over it. There’s so much mortgage you have -to lift up a corner of it before you can see the house. Being still a -trifle worse than broke, I got a job with a moving picture company in -Jersey and rode for ’em almost a year. That was harder work than being -the real thing, and a sight more dangerous. I nearly killed myself -one day, when a horse fell on me, and so I got my time and quit being -an actor. That was about a month ago. Then I came back here and rented -this place and started in business. The business hasn’t shown up yet, -though. I guess being a civil engineer in Clearfield is about as busy -a job as being a street-cleaner in Venice! Now you know all about me. -Hope I haven’t tired you out.” - -“No, indeed,” replied Perry emphatically. “I like to hear about it. -Say, you’ve been around a lot, haven’t you? Were you born in Nebraska?” - -“Me? Hombre, I’m a native son of this grand old state. My folks farmed -it over near Petersboro before the Pilgrims bought their passage!” - -“How did you happen to go to college away out there, sir?” - -“Why――now, look here, I’ve talked enough. I’ll tell you some day about -that, if you say so, but if I don’t quit now you’ll think I’m wound up. -You tell me things.” - -“What?” asked Perry, smiling. - -“Well, what are you aiming to do when you get through cramming your -head full of knowledge, friend?” - -“I don’t know. I used to think I’d be a doctor. That’s what my father -is. But lately――I don’t know. There doesn’t seem to be much money in -doctoring.” - -“Be a civil engineer then and get rich,” said Mr. Addicks gravely. -“What’s your line going to be, Shaw?” - -“I’m going to be an author,” answered Fudge earnestly. - -“That’s another of those well-paid professions. Guess what we’d better -do is make a date to meet in the poor house in, say, twenty or thirty -years!” - -“Some authors make a lot of money,” said Fudge. - -“Do they? Maybe so. The only one I ever knew who had money in his -pocket was a chap out in Laredo. Don’t know as you’d call him an -author exactly either; more of a poet. He traveled around on side-door -Pullmans and sold poems at the houses. Said he was ‘singing his way -around the world.’ Told me he sometimes got as much as fifty cents for -a poem. Yes, he was what you might call a right successful author; one -of those ‘best-sellers’ you hear about, I guess.” - -“What were the poems like?” asked Fudge. - -“Well, I don’t believe, between you and me and the shovel, he had more -than the one, and that――let me see if I can remember it. How was it -now? ‘My name is――――’ I used to know that song, too. Wait a minute. -I’ve got it! - - “‘My name is James O’Reilly, - I come from Erin’s sod - To sing my humble ballads - As round the world I plod. - I ask no gift from any man, - I pay my way with song. - The world is kind, and so I find - Each day I trudge along.’” - -“I wouldn’t call that real poetry,” said Fudge critically. - -“No more did he; he called it a song. Anyhow, it brought him money. If -someone doesn’t happen in pretty quick and give me a job of surveying -I’m going to steal that song and see what I can do with it! I suppose, -now, you fellows don’t want any surveying done? My prices are cheap. -This is bargain week.” - -“I’m afraid not,” answered Fudge. “I guess there isn’t much――――” - -He suddenly stopped, mouth open, eyes round and glassy, and stared at -his host. - -“What’s the matter?” asked Mr. Addicks, following Fudge’s fascinated -gaze. “Anything wrong with my hand?” - -Fudge seemed to shake himself out of his daze. “N-n-n-no, sir!” he -gulped. “Oh, n-n-no, sir! I j-j-just hap-hap-happened to th-th-think of -some-something!” - -Mr. Addicks laughed dryly. “You’re a remarkable young thinker, Shaw. I -thought, by the way you were looking at my hand, that maybe I needed a -manicure. Hello, going?” - -“Yes, sir, I guess we’d better be getting home,” said Perry. “We’ve -enjoyed your――our visit.” - -“Have you? Well, I have, anyway. I was just naturally bored to death -when you came. When you hear me trying to sing you’ll know it’s because -I’m bored. Drop in again soon, fellows. I’m usually in in the mornings. -Come around and I’ll teach you that song.” He chuckled as he opened the -door for them. “I know some others too. ‘Sam Bass,’ for instance. I -know thirty-four verses of ‘Sam Bass,’ and that’s three more than any -other chap at the ‘Lazy K’ knew!” - -It was not until they were in the street that either of the boys spoke. -Then Perry asked wonderingly: “For the love of mud, Fudge, what was the -matter with you? You looked like a dying fish!” - -“D-d-d-didn’t you see?” asked Fudge tensely. - -“See what?” - -“The wh-wh-wh-white s-s-scar!” - -“What white scar? Where?” - -“On his arm!” replied Fudge, hoarsely, triumphantly. “The l-l-left -one!” - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -SEARS MAKES A SUGGESTION - - -That Sunday evening there was an informal meeting at Guy Felker’s house -in the interests of the Track Team. Guy had asked a half-dozen fellows -to come and talk over affairs, and Lanny, Harry Partridge, Arthur -Beaton and Toby Sears had responded. Orson Kirke had excused himself -by telephone and Jack Toll had simply failed to appear. Toby Sears -was Senior Class President, the School’s best broad-jumper and a fair -quarter-miler. Sears was eighteen and a rather earnest chap on whose -judgment the school always placed the utmost reliance. It was Sears who -was talking now. - -“What Guy has said is just about so. There isn’t now and never has -been enough interest in track and field athletics with us. Every year -it’s been increasingly difficult to get fellows to come out for the -team. Considering the lack of material we’ve had to contend with, I -think we’ve done very well. But this spring a lot of us have been -hoping that things would be easier for the captain and the coach, for -we want to make this year’s victory over Springdale decisive. But, as -Guy has told us, as things stand now the team is very one-sided. That -is, we’ve got a lot of candidates for the field events and mighty few -for the track. And here it is the first of May and the Springdale meet -is little over a month off. Even if we found fellows now to come out -and work for track positions there is scarcely time to develop them. -And, for my part, I doubt that we can get any. Guy made a pretty good -canvass of the school last month and I think he’s got hold of about -all the talent there is. Seems to me, then, that the only thing to do -is for us fellows to see if we can’t come to the rescue and round out -the team better. I’ve never run a half-mile in competition and don’t -know what I could do, but I’m willing to try. That would give me three -events but if they didn’t come too close together I guess I could -manage them. And it seems to me that there are others who could attempt -more than they are attempting now. How about you, Harry? You’re down -for the shot and hammer, aren’t you?” - -“Yes, but I’ll try anything once, Toby. The trouble is that I don’t -think I’m good for anything else, and a month is short time to learn -new tricks.” - -“Well, you know what you can do and can’t do. Still, I think that some -others of us could double up, so to speak. We haven’t but one miler on -the team, as you know. Smith is doing his best, but unless he travels -faster than he did last year he won’t get a point. Springdale, from -what I can learn, is especially strong this year at the mile, half and -quarter and we’ve got to get some seconds and thirds in those events -to have a chance at winning. Presser is willing to do all he possibly -can, but he can’t turn out runners if he isn’t given material to work -on. So, as I’ve said, it seems to me it would be a good plan to induce -some of the fellows who are trying for field events to go in for track -work. I don’t suppose it’s possible to take, say, a chap who has never -done anything but jumping and make a good half-miler of him in a month, -but if we can make him good enough to capture a third we’re helping our -chances.” - -“I think that’s a splendid idea,” said Captain Felker. “Of course, -there are some of us who couldn’t take up more than we are taking. I, -for one. I’d be willing enough, but you simply can’t run sprints or -distances and do yourself justice at the pole-vault. Besides that, the -arrangement of events interferes. But I do think there are fellows on -the team who will be willing to enter two or, in some cases, even -three events. I wish we could get up some enthusiasm for the mile -and the half-mile. Fellows seem to hold off from those events as if -they were poison. I dare say they think they’re harder work. In a way -they are, or, at least, they require a more sustained effort than the -sprints and hurdles. And speaking of hurdles, we need a bigger field -there. Lanny’s got all he can manage with the sprints, although he -intends to try the high hurdles too. The only fellow we have in sight -now for the low sticks is Arthur here. We ought to have four men for -every event on the program, and that’s the truth of it.” - -“I’m willing to try the sprints if you think it will do any good,” said -Arthur Beaton. “I might push some Springdale fellow out in the trials, -anyway.” - -“I’d suggest,” said Partridge, “that Guy and Skeet get together and go -over the list and see what can be done in the way you suggest, Toby. As -I said before, I’ll try anything anyone wants me to. Anything, that is, -except the pole-vault. I don’t want to break my neck!” - -“There are about ten fellows trying for the sprints,” said Lanny. “We -don’t need more than half of them. Why can’t some of them be turned -into hurdlers, Guy? Any fellow who can do the hundred on the flat can -do it over the sticks if he’s once shown how.” - -“Sure he can,” agreed Harry. “Call a meeting of the candidates, Guy, -and tell each one what’s expected of him. Don’t just say, ‘Will you do -this?’ but tell ’em they’ve got to! Get Toby to talk to ’em and put -some pep in ’em. Make ’em understand that we’ve got to lick Springdale -next month and that――――” - -“The trouble is,” interrupted Lanny, “that the fellows don’t take track -athletics seriously. It’s got to be sort of the style to smile when -you mention the subject. We’ve run so to football and baseball that -we don’t think anything else is worth while. Even the fellows who are -on the team go around with a half-apologetic grin, as much as to say, -‘I’m on the Track Team. Isn’t it a joke?’ What ought to be done in this -school is to get track athletics back where they belong as a major -sport.” - -“And the best way to do that,” said Sears, “is to everlastingly wallop -Springdale.” - -“Yes, but――――” - -“I think there ought to be more incentive for fellows to come out for -the team,” said Harry Partridge. “Of course, if a chap is fond of -running or jumping or hurdling he’s going to do it without persuasion, -but there are lots of fellows, I guess, who have the making of good -track or field men who don’t realize it and don’t think about it. Of -course, it’s too late this year, but next――――” - -“Well, it’s this year that’s worrying me,” broke in Guy. “Whoever comes -after me can bother about next year.” - -“Still,” said Sears earnestly, “we’ve got to work for the future as -well as the present; or we should anyway. I’ve sometimes wondered if we -couldn’t enlarge the interest by holding a meet about the middle of the -season, a handicap meet between classes. Once get a fellow interested -and if he has anything in him he wants to get it out. And so he keeps -on.” - -“That’s a good scheme,” agreed Guy. “Funny we’ve never thought of it. -But it’s too late for this spring. What we might do, though, is to hold -an open meet and work up some enthusiasm that way. It would be a good -thing, anyway, for the team.” - -“Couldn’t we get a meet with some other school?” asked the manager. -“Highland Hall or someone.” - -“Guy’s scheme would answer the same purpose,” said Sears. “We could -talk it up, get the candidates themselves interested in it and get the -school interested, too. It might show us some material we didn’t know -of. Some fellows will do stunts in competition that they wouldn’t -think of in practice.” - -“Ought to be prizes, I suppose,” said Lanny. “How about it?” - -“Ought to be, yes,” agreed Guy; “but where’d we get them? There isn’t -enough money to fix the track up decently.” - -“Instead of individual prizes for each event,” offered Manager Beaton, -“we might have a single prize for the best performance, or something -like that.” - -That was discussed and eventually abandoned. As Guy pointed out, -it would be a mighty difficult matter to decide which was the best -performance and the awarding of the prize might lead to a lot of -dissatisfaction amongst the less fortunate contenders. “We don’t need -prizes,” he said. “We’ll publish the names of the winners and that will -be enough.” - -“Arthur’s idea might be used, though,” said Sears thoughtfully, “in the -Springdale meet. How would it do to have some sort of a trophy to go to -the fellow winning the most points for us?” - -“What sort of a trophy?” asked Lanny. - -“Well, nothing expensive, of course. It would be something to work for, -and just now, when we want to induce fellows to take up new stuff, -it mightn’t be a bad idea to give them something――er――tangible to go -after. Maybe just a pewter mug would do.” - -“Suppose two or three fellows scored the same number of points?” asked -Arthur. “That might easily happen, mightn’t it?” - -“Yes, I suppose it might.” Sears considered. “Then let each have -possession of the mug for a certain time.” - -“Oh, your idea is to have the thing competed for each year?” - -“Yes, don’t you think so?” - -“Tell you what,” said Lanny. “Get some of the girls to make a stunning -purple banner――no, pennant――and give it to the fellow who does the best -work for us, as Toby suggests. In case two or more win the same number -of points, take into consideration the fellows’ performances. If two -chaps each won, say, eight points for us, the one who made the better -record for his event would get the flag. And then let him keep it and -we’ll find a new one for next year. Call it the Track Trophy and have -it understood that, next to the Victoria Cross, it’s the biggest honor -you can win!” - -“That’s all right,” assented Harry Partridge, “but it strikes me that a -silver or even a pewter mug would make more of a hit than a pennant.” - -“I don’t think so,” responded Lanny. “Besides,” he added, with a smile, -“that mug would cost us money, and the pennant won’t!” The others -laughed. - -“Still,” said Arthur Beaton, “a few of us might dig down for it. You -can get a pretty good-looking mug for three dollars.” - -“Speak for yourself, old scout,” protested Guy. “I’m poorer than the -Athletic Committee, and that’s pretty poor! Let’s make it a pennant. -It doesn’t matter what it is, really, so long as it is understood that -the thing’s worth winning. It could be made of silk and have a suitable -inscription on it, like ‘For Valor’―――― No, that wouldn’t do. ‘For -Worth?’ ‘For――――’” - -“For Instance,” laughed Lanny. “Never mind an inscription. Just have -‘C. H. S.’ on it.” - -“With a winged foot,” suggested Arthur. - -“Then if I won it throwing the hammer,” said Harry Partridge, “it -wouldn’t be what you’d call appropriate, would it?” - -“In a general way――――” began Arthur. - -“I’ve got it,” interrupted Lanny. “A purple silk pennant with a green -laurel wreath inclosing the letters ‘C. H. S.’ in white. How’s that?” - -“Sounds mighty good-looking,” replied Sears, and the rest agreed. Guy -Felker, however, was a trifle impatient of the subject. - -“We can find a design easy enough later,” he said. “The question is -whether it’s worth doing.” - -“It certainly is,” asserted Sears, and the others agreed. - -“Anything that will convince the fellows that it’s worth while trying -to do all they can for the team, is worth doing,” said Lanny decidedly. -“Remember, Guy, that you and Skeet have got to persuade chaps to go in -for stunts they’ve never tried, in many cases.” - -“But won’t it look,” asked Arthur, “as if we were offering this pennant -just to――to――――” - -“I get your idea,” said Lanny. “How would it do if we kept out of it -and let the girls offer it? We might suggest it to them and let them do -the whole thing. Louise Brent would be a good one to start it up.” - -“That’s better,” said Guy. “We’ll keep out of it entirely. Suppose you -attend to the――the negotiations, Lanny. You’re a popular chap with the -ladies!” - -“Let Toby do it,” Lanny replied. - -“It is moved and seconded that Lanny be appointed a committee of one -to negotiate with Louise Brent in the matter of a purple silk pennant. -All those in favor will so signify by raising their right hands. One, -two, three, four. It is a vote, gentlemen.” Toby bowed gravely to Lanny. - -“All right,” laughed the latter. “It’s all up when Toby’s in the chair, -anyway! Any other business before the meeting, Guy?” - -“No, I guess not. We’ll see what can be done with persuading the -fellows to try new stunts. Maybe it’ll work out fine. I hope so. Much -obliged for coming around, anyhow. I was getting a bit discouraged, to -tell the honest truth. Skeet’s been growling for days and wanting to -know how I expected him to make a team out of nothing. And the trouble -was I couldn’t tell him! You fellows needn’t run off so early, though.” - -“I’m going home and pile into bed,” replied Lanny gravely. “From now on -I shall take the very best care of myself because, you see, I mean to -get that purple pennant.” - -“You?” jeered Harry Partridge. “You haven’t the ghost of a show, you -old tow-head! I only have to close my eyes to see that thing hanging -over my mantel!” - -“Huh! Open ’em again and wake up! Good-night, all!” - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -THE SQUAD AT WORK - - -On Monday work for the Track Team entrants was no different than usual. -Perry, one of a bunch of seven or eight sprinters, practiced starts, -did two fifty-yard dashes and finally swung through the two hundred -and twenty. There were no trials, nor were any of the number allowed -to go faster than a “hustle,” which was Skeet’s term for a pace that -was something like a glorified jog. Lanny, who was now giving three -afternoons each week to track work, spent much of his time coaching the -rest, and to him Perry owed his first real understanding of what might -be called the philosophy of the crouching start. Lanny, watching Perry -and two others at the mark, stopped proceedings. - -“Just a minute, you fellows,” he said. “Now, look here. You, Hull, and -you, Soper, have got your holes placed wrong. Your front hole, Hull, is -too far from the mark for you. You’re losing distance every time. Put -that front hole so that your instep will come opposite your right knee -when you’re down, and dig your hole deeper, man; that scratch in the -ground doesn’t give you any purchase. That’s the ticket, dig it out. -Now then, try that. Better? Hold on, though; you’re straddled too much. -The idea is that when you get away your rear foot will travel straight -forward. Your back hole is too far to the right. Put it about here and -see how it goes. That’s the trouble with you, too, Soper. Your back -hole is too far back and too wide of the line through your body.” - -The two boys followed instructions and presently tried another start. -When they had run through their dozen or fifteen yards and walked back, -Lanny began again. - -“As near as I can tell, fellows,” he said, “neither of you really -understand why you’re doing this. You appear to have the idea that when -you start off you have to throw your body forward. The result is that -you both go off with a jump and you don’t get your stride until you’re -eight or ten yards away. Watch me a minute, please. You fellows, too; -you’re none of you getting off well. Now, then, fingers back of the -mark, spread enough to carry your weight easily, but not tense; there -ought to be a little spring to them as they lift. Now in setting your -weight goes forward on your fingers and the _ball_ of your left foot. -Don’t try to put your body over the line; only the head and shoulders. -Now, when the pistol goes off, don’t give a jump as though you were -going to play leap-frog all the way down to the tape. Let yourself fall -forward naturally, as you’re bound to when you lift your hands, and -then run. That’s the whole idea of that start. You’re falling forward -and you run to keep from going on your face. Bring your rear foot -forward on a straight line, raise your body slowly――don’t jerk your -shoulders up――and get your stride in the first three or four steps at -the most. Don’t try for long steps. Take short ones, at least at first -until you learn to lengthen them without throwing yourself off. When -you’re running the hundred yards, fellows, about fifty per cent. of it -depends on the way you get off your mark. Races are won or lost right -there. The idea is to get away quick, _but_ get your stride at once. -Now, then, watch me and see how I do it.” - -That, thought Perry, as his gaze followed Lanny’s bare legs twinkling -down the path, simplified the business. No one had told him that it -was the falling forward of his body that gave him speed in getting -away from the mark. He had been, in fact, struggling against that very -thing, trying to recover his equilibrium at the earliest possible -moment and, in that effort, making his second step a kind of leap in -the air and wrenching his head and shoulders backward with an awkward -and often painful motion. The result had been that for at least a -half-dozen strides he had been “running up and down.” Having once -grasped the “why and where for,” Perry found that the crouching start -was the simplest thing in the world! Not that he mastered it that -afternoon or for many succeeding afternoons, but each time it came -easier and eventually he found that he could reach his stride within -three or four steps of the mark and at twenty yards be running at top -speed. - -That afternoon’s work-out ended with a “hustle” over the two-twenty, -and when, slowing up from that, Perry turned to seek Skeet and report, -he caught a glimpse of Fudge, far down the field, hopping ludicrously -on one foot with a shot poised in upstretched hand. Perry smiled -sympathetically as the shot sped away for a scant thirty feet. Fudge, -he feared, was not making a howling success of his athletic endeavors. -There was a rumor of an impending cut in the squad and Perry wondered -whether he and Fudge would survive it. He almost dared to think that -he would, for, excepting Lanny and Kirke and, possibly, Soper, his -work was as good as any so far. As for Fudge, however, he knew that -Falkland, Partridge and Brimmer were all from six to eight feet better -with the shot, and he doubted that Skeet would retain more than three -fellows for the weight events. Having been released by the coach, with -instructions to report a quarter of an hour earlier on the morrow, -Perry sought the dressing-room, waited his turn at the shower, and -finally dressed and went in search of Fudge. The shot-putters were not -in sight, though, and, hesitating whether to remain and watch baseball -practice or continue his search for his chum, he at last left the field -and made his way back along Common Street to where, in the vacant block -behind the field, the weight candidates were practicing with the hammer. - -Partridge was in charge, and the squad consisted of Fudge, George -Falkland and Thad Brimmer, while four or five spectators looked on -from a safe distance behind the ring. Perry joined these and watched -Harry Partridge whirl the twelve-pound weight and send it sailing -far across the turf. None of them was making any great effort for -distance, however, the matter of form still being the consideration. -Fudge followed Partridge, and Perry, who had never yet seen his friend -essay the hammer-throw, was prepared to resent the snickers or amused -comments of the watchers beside him. But Fudge proved something of -a revelation. Awkward with the shot he undoubtedly was, and it was -much of a question whether he would ever learn to handle that object -successfully, but when it came to throwing the hammer Fudge was -another fellow. His sturdy body turned with the swinging weight, his -arms outstretched, his feet twinkling marvelously above the trampled -ground. Then he stopped quickly, the whirling hammer dipped, rose and, -released, arched off like a shot from a mortar, and Fudge, recovering, -pulled up with a foot against the wooden rim. - -“Bully!” commended Partridge warmly. “That was all right, Fudge! And -you see what I mean about not pulling back on the release, don’t you? -That was mighty good form! Mighty good! Get your sweater on and keep -moving. All right, George. Now see if you handle your feet better.” - -Perhaps Falkland was so busy trying to manage his feet correctly that -he forgot the flying weight. At all events, at the completion of the -second turn the ball of the hammer struck the ground, plowed up a foot -of the soft turf and sent Falkland head over heels before he could -let go the handle! Fortunately, he picked himself up unhurt, and the -laughter of the audience brought only a sheepish grin to his face. -While he regained his breath Thad Brimmer took his turn. After that -Falkland again tried and got the weight away without misadventure, -although not to the satisfaction of Partridge. Fudge threw again and, -while the result was not as good as that of his former performance, did -very well. Partridge explained again, and again threw, and the practice -was over. - -“That was a peach of a throw, Fudge,” commended Perry, as he ranged -himself beside his friend. “I didn’t know you could do it like that!” - -“It isn’t hard,” replied Fudge carelessly, “if you know how.” But he -managed to convey by his tone that it _was_ hard and that a great deal -of credit was deserved by one William Shaw. “I guess the time before -the last I must have made a hundred and fifty feet easy!” - -Fudge’s estimate was somewhat too generous, but Perry accepted it -unquestionably and accorded admiration. He waited outside while Fudge -performed his ablutions and arrayed himself in his street attire, and -then, in the wake of the baseball players, they made their way back -to town. Fudge, plainly pleased with himself, had a good deal to say -regarding the gentle art of throwing the hammer, and Perry listened -patiently until the subject was exhausted. Then, and by that time they -were leaning against Fudge’s front gate in the fragrant warmth of the -May afternoon, Perry said: - -“Say, Fudge, I’ve been thinking.” - -“Uh-huh,” responded Fudge disinterestedly. - -“About Mr. Addicks.” - -“Anything new?” asked Fudge eagerly. “Have you seen him?” - -Perry shook his head. “No, but――but I’ve been thinking.” - -“You said that once,” complained Fudge. - -“Well, I don’t believe he’s so awfully bad, do you? He was mighty -nice to us the other day, Fudge. Lots of folks would have kicked us -downstairs if they’d caught us listening outside the door like that. -And he doesn’t――doesn’t _look_ bad, now does he?” - -“N-no.” Fudge shook his head in agreement. “No, he doesn’t. But we know -he is, and――――” - -“But we don’t know what temptation he may have had, Fudge,” pleaded -Perry. “Maybe he was starving or――or something. Of course, it isn’t -right to rob even if you are starving, but――but it makes it less -bad, doesn’t it? And, for all we know, he may be trying to be better -and――and live it down, eh? See what I mean?” - -“Sure, and that may be so, too.” Fudge knit his brows and looked -extremely wise. “Maybe he’s repented.” - -“That’s what I think,” said the other eagerly. “And so it seems to -me we’d ought to help him all we can, Fudge, instead of――instead of -hunting him down!” - -“We aren’t hunting him down,” objected Fudge. - -“We have been. If we went to the police to-day and told all we know, -they’d grab him in a minute, wouldn’t they?” - -Fudge kicked the fence-post and hesitated. “I suppose so,” he replied -finally. “Only, we wouldn’t go to the police, Perry. We’d go to the -express company, because they offer the reward.” - -“I don’t want the reward,” declared Perry warmly. “And neither do you!” - -Fudge looked a little bit startled. “N-no――――” - -“Taking a reward for sending him to prison now when he’s trying to lead -a decent life and――and establish himself in business would be rotten! -The money wouldn’t bring anything but bad luck, either. No, sir, what -we’ve got to do is stand by him and do all we can to help him, Fudge.” - -“Y-yes, but how can we? What can we do?” - -“Well, for one thing, maybe we could see that he got some work. If he’s -going to stay honest, he mustn’t be poor, because being poor is what -leads folks to commit crimes, don’t you see?” - -“Playing the piano brings him money, doesn’t it?” - -“Not much, I guess. What we ought to do is to see if we can’t find -someone who will give him some civil engineering to do. I――I’ll bet -he’s a good civil engineer, too!” - -“So do I,” asserted Fudge. “I’ll bet he can engineer all around those -fellows who did that work for Mr. Brent out there.” - -“That’s what a civil engineer does, isn’t it?” asked Perry. “I mean, -lays out streets and bridges and――and things.” - -Fudge nodded. “And surveys things, too.” - -“Well, now, say, I was wondering whether we couldn’t ask Morris to ask -his father to give him a job.” - -“Give Morris a job?” - -“No, Mr. Addicks. He’s got a lot more land out there that hasn’t been -surveyed, I’ll bet. And if Morris asked him to give some of the work -to Mr. Addicks――of course, not all of it, but some of it――I guess he -would. He’s mighty fond of Morris.” - -Fudge considered silently. The idea struck him as being perfectly -feasible, even brilliant, but he wished he had thought of it himself. -After a moment: “Morris isn’t the one, though, to ask Mr. Brent,” he -announced. - -“Who is?” - -“Louise.” - -“I don’t know her except to speak to, and I wouldn’t like to ask her. -You could, though, couldn’t you?” - -“Mm, maybe. I’ve got a better scheme than that, though, Perry. You -listen. You know, Dick and Louise are great friends, and if we went to -Dick and told him about Mr. Addicks and asked him to ask her to ask her -father――――” - -“Yes, but I don’t think we ought to tell anyone, even Dick Lovering, -about Mr. Addicks.” - -“We don’t need to tell him _that_ part of it. We’ll just say that he’s -a――a tip-top fellow, which he is, and that he’s just come here and -needs work like anything; that he has to live in one room and maybe -doesn’t have enough to eat, and how he worked his way through college -running a livery stable, and lost his money in oil or something, and -all that. Dick’s just the fellow to help anyone like that. He――he just -loves to help folks!” - -“Well, if we could do it that way, without letting out about Mr. -Addicks being a train-robber, it would be fine,” replied Perry -heartily. “Shall we, Fudge?” - -“Uh-huh, we’ll go around to-night and see Dick. I’ll just bet you -anything that Mr. Brent could give him a lot of things to do if he -wanted to. And I’ll bet Mr. Addicks is the fellow to do them, too!” - -“Yes, there’s something about him that makes you know he’s smart,” -confirmed Perry enthusiastically. “It would be dandy if we could help -him――help him――――” - -“Get on his feet again,” supplied Fudge, whose literary efforts had -provided him with a fine collection of phrases. “Yes, sir, and it’s -great we thought of doing it, Perry.” - -Perry was too pleased to challenge his friend’s use of the word -“we,” and in a few minutes they had parted, having agreed to meet at -half-past seven at the corner of Troutman and E Streets and put the -case before Dick Lovering. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -THE OFFICER AT THE DOOR - - -Dick was just leaving the house when the boys arrived there that -evening, and Eli Yale was awaiting him at the curb, but he instantly -offered to return. Since the evening had turned cool, they went inside, -seating themselves in the little room to the right that was at once -parlor, living-room, library and Dick’s study. - -It was a comfortable, homelike little room, with a big table by the -front windows whereat Dick studied and conducted his affairs, a smaller -one, in the center of the warmly-hued carpet, flanked by two easy -chairs,――one of which, a deeply tufted leather affair, was Dick’s -especial property,――a couch covered with a gaily colored Afghan robe, -two book-cases, an old-fashioned foot-rest, more chairs and, curled -up on one of them, a fluffy smoke-gray cat. Between the book-shelves -was a fireplace and on the marble ledge above, a brass-dialed, -ebony-cased clock ticked with dignified deliberation, keeping perfect -time with the purring of Lady Gray. On the big table a green-shaded -student lamp threw a pleasant light over the neat piles of books and -papers. There was little that was either new or expensive in the room, -but everything, from the oldest side-chair to the few pictures on the -walls, proclaimed friendliness and comfort. - -Fudge was the spokesman, and he managed to tell his story with -commendable brevity, although he could not help embroidering it with a -few harmless frills. Dick was interested at once. If he suspected that -he was not being told quite all there was to tell, he made no sign. -When Fudge had reached a slightly breathless but triumphant conclusion -Dick nodded. “I’ll be glad to speak to Louise,” he said, “and to -the others as well. I don’t believe that Mr. Brent is employing any -surveyors just now, for I think he has done all he is going to do on -the addition at present. There’s talk of re-locating the trolley line -that runs over to Sterling and I believe he is not going to do anything -more until that has been settled. But we’ll do what we can, Fudge, the -lot of us. If it’s as bad as you say with this chap, he ought to have -some work given him. Do you suppose he can do anything else if there’s -no engineering just now?” - -“He can run a livery stable,” said Fudge doubtfully. - -“And punch cattle,” added Perry. - -“I’m afraid there isn’t much chance of his getting a job at -cattle-punching in Clearfield,” Dick laughed. “All right, fellows, -I’ll speak about it this evening. I was just going to run over to the -Brents’ when you came. Look me up to-morrow and I’ll tell you what the -result is.” - -They took their departure, highly satisfied, and Dick sped away in -Eli. When he reached Brentwood he found Louise and Lanny in absorbed -discussion of the Track Trophy. Louise Brent was a tall, blue-eyed -girl of fifteen, with a fair skin and much yellow-brown hair. She was -attractive more on account of her expression than her features. Dick -was made welcome and Lanny explained about the trophy, and the three -laid plans and drew sketches for the better part of an hour. Louise was -enthusiastic and promised to interest the other girls at once. “You -just wait, Lanny,” she said. - -“It’s going to be the most scrumptious pennant you ever saw. We’ll get -Lila Abbey to do the laurel wreath part. She’s perfectly wonderful at -that sort of thing. Oughtn’t we to put it on a stick?” - -“I suppose so. And tie it with purple ribbons, eh?” - -“Of course.” Louise reflected, tapping a pencil against her white -teeth. “It isn’t going to be awfully easy, but we’ll do it all right. -When ought we to have it done?” - -“Why, I guess there’s no hurry. Any time before the Springdale meet -will do, I think.” - -“Better have it on exhibition a week or so in one of the windows down -town,” suggested Dick. - -“We can have it done in two weeks, I’m certain,” said Louise. “I’ll get -a whole lot of the girls around here some afternoon and we’ll work on -it. And――and it’s supposed to be our idea entirely, you say, Lanny?” - -“Yes, we thought it would be better like that. You needn’t tell the -others that we know anything about it. Just sort of give them to -understand that it’s your idea and that Guy and the rest of us are -tickled to death with it.” - -“I wouldn’t want to pretend I thought of it,” replied Louise, “because, -of course, I didn’t, but I don’t suppose anyone will ask who did think -of it. What we ought to do, first of all, I guess, is to make a pattern -of it so as to get it just the right size.” - -“Ought to have a drawing made, I’d say,” remarked Dick, “so you’ll -know just where the lettering goes and all that.” - -“Oh, dear, you’re just trying to make it harder!” sighed Louise. -“You’re quite right, though; only I’m sure I don’t know who could do -it. I know I couldn’t. Could you, Lanny?” - -“Great Scott, no! I can’t draw a straight line.” - -“Oh, you’ll find someone,” said Dick reassuringly. “Or,” struck by a -sudden thought, “I’ll tell you what, Louise. There’s a chap here in -town, a civil engineer named Addicks, who would probably be glad to -make a drawing of the thing. I was going to speak to you about him -later. He’s out of work and having rather a hard time of it. Fudge and -Perry Hull came to see me this evening just before I left the house -and told me about him. The two kids were quite excited; wanted me to -see you and ask you to try and get your father to give him some work. -Philanthropy’s rather a new stunt for Fudge, but he made out a bully -case for the chap; got me all wrought up about him! Fudge says he has -a room in that block where Ginter’s Bakery is and cooks his own meals -there and is frightfully hard up.” - -“The poor man!” said Louise. - -“Yes, according to Fudge, he lives on sausages and bread and coffee.” - -“Sausages aren’t bad,” said Lanny judicially. “Getting a bit late for -them, though. If I were he, I’d switch to lamb chops.” - -“Don’t be horrid,” said Louise. “Of course I’ll ask papa, Dick. And -I’ll just insist on his finding something for the poor man to do. I -dare say papa knows the railroad people well enough to get them to give -him work.” - -“The railroad people?” asked Dick. - -“Yes, you said he was an engineer, didn’t you?” - -“Civil engineer, not railway, Louise.” - -“Oh! That’s different, isn’t it? Civil engineers survey things, don’t -they?” - -“Correct,” replied Lanny. “Have you forgotten the famous poem written -by a civil engineer? Something about ‘I’m monarch of all I survey; My -right there is none to dispute’; remember?” - -“That was Cowper,” replied Louise scathingly. “And he was a poet, not a -civil engineer.” - -“Oh, all right! Of the two I’d rather be the engineer, though, and live -on sausages.” - -“Lanny, you’re crazy in the head,” laughed Dick. - -“He’s just silly,” corrected Louise. “Papa has a good deal of surveying -done, I think, Dick, and I’m sure he could find some for this -Mister――――” - -“Addicks is the name,” prompted Dick. “I wish you’d ask him, anyway. I -suppose he isn’t in this evening?” - -“No, he and mamma went out to make a call. Maybe he will be back before -you go, though.” - -“Does he usually stay out until midnight?” said Lanny innocently. -Louise blushed a little. - -“You’re quite horrid this evening,” she charged. “If you want me to -make that pennant for you, you’d better behave yourself.” - -“I’ll do the nicest thing I know,” returned Lanny sweetly. “I’ll go -home!” - -The next afternoon Clearfield played Fernwood High School on the -diamond and beat the visiting nine decisively, 14 to 3. The work of the -purple team was rather ragged and neither Haley nor Nostrand, both of -whom pitched that afternoon, was in good form. Hits were frequent on -both sides, but Clearfield’s performance in the field prevented many -runs by the visitors. Fernwood, on the other hand, had two bad innings, -during which their infield threw the ball wild, and errors, coupled -with some timely hitting by Bryan, Cotner and Merrick, in especial, -enabled the home team to pile up a safe score before the game was half -over. As Lanny was working with the track men that afternoon, his -place was taken by Terry Carson, and the substitute caught a nearly -perfect game until the eighth inning when a foul tip glanced away -from a bat and split one of his fingers. After that McCoy went behind -the plate, and it was a marvel that the visitors didn’t pull the game -out of the fire, for Sprague McCoy, an outfielder, was quite at sea in -the backstop position. Nostrand, however, who was in the points during -the last four innings, got himself together and managed to stave off -two batting rallies. The incident opened Dick’s eyes to the fact that -a second substitute catcher was needed, and he and Captain Jones went -a-hunting. It was Pete Robey upon whom their choice finally fell, and -Pete found himself suddenly elevated from an insecure position amongst -the rabble to a seat on the first team bench. But that was a day or two -later. To-day Dick and Warner Jones were still discussing the matter -when they left the field, and it was into that discussion that Fudge -broke when he and Perry caught up with the older boys just as Dick -swung himself into the runabout. - -“Dick, did you find out anything last night?” asked Fudge eagerly. - -“Hello, Fudge! Hello, Perry! Why, yes, something. Pile in here and I’ll -tell you in a minute. Let Perry sit in your lap, Warner, will you? -Fudge, you squat on the floor.” - -“Don’t drag your feet, though,” warned the captain humorously, “or -you’ll stop the car.” He and Dick resumed their discussion of the -catcher question and kept it up until Warner got out at his gate. When -they trundled on Dick turned to the expectant Fudge. - -“I spoke to Louise last night, Fudge, about your friend, and then she -spoke to her father this morning. I suspect that he didn’t much want to -hire What’s-his-name, but Louise is a very determined person and she -finally got him to say that if this friend of yours would call on him -at his office to-morrow morning――he’s in New York to-day――he’d talk -with him. Louise telephoned me at breakfast about it. She said Mr. -Brent was very obstinate at first.” - -“That’s b-b-bully!” exclaimed Fudge. - -“Well, don’t expect too much,” warned Dick. “Mr. Brent isn’t likely to -hire him unless he can prove that he knows his business. I know enough -about Mr. Brent to be certain of that, Fudge.” - -“Sure, but he does know his business! He’s a very fine civil engineer.” - -“How do you know?” asked Dick gravely. “Has he ever done any work for -you?” - -Perry chuckled, and Fudge reddened a bit. “No, but――but you can -t-t-t-tell he is, Dick!” - -“I see. Well, do you think he can draw?” - -Fudge looked doubtfully at Perry, found no help there and replied -sturdily: “You bet he can! He’s a great drawer, he is!” - -Dick smiled as he slowed down at Perry’s gate. “I asked because the -girls are going to make a silk pennant as a prize for the Track Team -and they want someone to make a drawing of it to work by. I told Louise -that perhaps this fellow Addicks could do it for them. Do you think he -could?” - -“I know he could,” answered Fudge, with beautiful faith. “What’s it -for, this pennant?” - -“Why, it’s to go, I believe, to the fellow who does the best work for -us in the meet with Springdale. It’s to be rather a gorgeous affair; -purple silk with green leaves and white lettering. Suppose you see Mr. -Addicks and tell him about it and ask if he will do it. There isn’t -much money in it, because the girls have got to go to quite a little -expense before they’re through, I guess. Louise thought a dollar would -be enough, but you could ask him what he’d do it for. If it wasn’t much -more than that, I guess they’d pay it. Mind doing that?” - -“No, indeed! We’ll do it right now. It’s just around the corner. Want -to come along?” - -“Thanks, no, I’ve got to get home. Call me up this evening and tell me -what he says. Much obliged, and I hope that job will pan out, fellows. -Good-night!” - -It was getting dark in the building when Fudge and Perry went in and -climbed the stairs. Halfway up they encountered some of the workers in -the glove factory, but after that the building seemed deserted. At the -top of the last flight, though, they discovered that it wasn’t, for, in -front of Mr. Addicks’ door at the end of the twilit corridor a bulky -figure stood. As the boys looked the figure took on the appearance of -a policeman. The policeman――they could see him more plainly now that -their eyes had accustomed themselves to the half darkness――rapped -loudly, imperatively on the door. He waited, and, as there was no -response, he tried the handle. The door was locked. Then he bent close -to the sign, as though making certain he was not mistaken, glanced up -at the closed transom and swung around. Fudge dragged Perry forward -and began an examination of the signs on the nearer portals as the -policeman, walking almost noiselessly on rubber-soled shoes, passed -them with a brief but searching glance. As his quiet footfalls died -away in the hall below Fudge turned a wild, alarmed gaze on Perry. - -“_They’re after him!_” he whispered hoarsely. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -THE TRAIN-ROBBER IS WARNED - - -Mr. Myron Addicks returned home rather later than usual that afternoon. -Although he had knocked about the world a good deal during his -twenty-seven years, and had put up with a good many discomforts, he had -been telling himself of late that his present domicile was about as -dreary and unsatisfactory as any he had ever endured. The best thing he -could say of it was that the rent was cheap, cheaper than that of any -other room he had been able to find in Clearfield. But there was little -else to be said in its favor. There was no view to be enjoyed, the -building was silent and lonely after dark――save in the basement, from -whence a strong odor of baking arose every night――and a bath was almost -an impossibility. Unfortunately, until his income had at least doubled -itself, he could not afford to pay more, and this afternoon, tramping -along a country road outside of town, he had reached the conclusion -that any increase in his income was not to be expected and that the -best thing he could do was to hit the trail back West. In short, he -was rather discouraged to-day, a condition of mind very unusual with -him, and when he entered the building to climb the two flights to his -cheerless “home” he had just about determined to pack his battered -trunk. - -He stopped, as was his custom, to apply a match to the single gas-jet -at the top of the first flight, and repeated the operation in the hall -above. And having turned the key to his liking he heard his name spoken -and looked into the anxious faces of Fudge and Perry. - -“Hello!” he greeted them. “What are you fellows doing up here?” - -His tone lacked warmth, but the boys didn’t notice the fact. - -“We came to see you about something,” replied Fudge, in lowered voice. -And then he glanced apprehensively toward the stairs. “Do you mind if -we go in your room, sir?” - -“Why, no; glad to have you.” Mr. Addicks produced his key and opened -his door. “Wait till I light up or you’ll break your necks in here. -Mighty nice of you boys to call.” The gas shed light on the rather bare -room and Mr. Addicks nodded at the chairs. “Sit down and confess all,” -he went on. “How’s the world been treating you two?” - -“All right, sir,” answered Fudge hurriedly. “But that isn’t it. What we -want to tell you is that――that they’re after you, sir.” - -“After me?” asked the other mildly. “Who is?” - -“The――the police, sir.” Fudge continued breathlessly. “We came up about -a half-hour ago and he didn’t hear us, I guess, and he knocked and then -he tried the door. We made believe――――” - -“Whoa! Back up! Let’s have this right, Shaw. You came up here to see me -a half-hour ago and saw someone knock on my door and try to open it. -Who was he?” - -“A policeman, Mr. Addicks; a big, fat policeman. We made believe we -were looking for another room and he went out again and we stayed here -to warn you.” - -“Why, now that was kind of you,” replied Mr. Addicks gravely. “But just -why did you think I ought to be warned?” - -Fudge hesitated. After all, it was not a pleasant task to inform a man -that you knew him to be a criminal. Perry moved uneasily in his chair, -but failed to come to his chum’s assistance. - -“Come on,” persisted Mr. Addicks. “We’re all friends together. What’s -the idea, Shaw?” - -Fudge threw a final appealing glance at Perry and plunged: “It’s none -of our business, sir, only I――er――I happened to see the notice in the -express office and――――” - -“What notice?” - -“About the train-robber. And then we――we came in the other day and -couldn’t help seeing the scar and――and knowing.” - -“What scar, Shaw?” - -“On your arm, sir; the white scar just like the description says.” - -“The white―――― Oh!” Mr. Addicks nodded comprehendingly. - -“We haven’t breathed a word to anyone, Mr. Addicks, but I guess they -got on to you. And we thought you ought to know.” - -“Of course.” Mr. Addicks’ countenance held puzzlement and some -amusement, and he was silent a moment. At last: “Let’s have this just -right now,” he said. “You suspect me of being this train-robber and you -think the police are after me. Is that it?” - -“Y-yes, sir.” - -“The description of the robber fits me, does it?” - -“Why, yes, sir, all except the height. I guess you’re more than five -feet and ten inches, aren’t you?” - -“Five feet, eleven. But that’s near enough. What was the fellow’s name, -by the way?” - -“He had two or three names. Edward Hurley was one of them, and another -was Crowell, and――I don’t remember the other.” - -“Fenney,” supplied Perry subduedly. - -“Ha!” Mr. Addicks arose from the table on which he had been seated, -thrust his hands into his pockets and walked to the window. The boys -exchanged expressive glances. After a moment’s silent contemplation of -the twilit world outside Mr. Addicks turned back. - -“How do you suppose they found out?” he asked, in a low voice. - -Fudge shook his head. “Maybe you left off your disguise some time, sir.” - -“My――my what?” - -“Disguise; the mustache, sir.” - -“Oh, yes, the mustache. That’s it, I guess.” - -“Yes, sir, you didn’t have it on when you came in just now, you know.” - -“Careless!” sighed Mr. Addicks. “No wonder they spotted me. Well, -what must be must be, boys!” He sank into a chair with a gesture of -surrender. “I guess it’s all up, hombres.” - -“Couldn’t you――couldn’t you make your getaway?” asked Fudge, lowering -his voice and glancing apprehensively toward the door. Mr. Addicks -laid finger to lips, tiptoed across and suddenly threw the door open. -Thrilled, Fudge and Perry leaned forward to look. The corridor, -however, was empty. - -Leaving the door slightly ajar, Mr. Addicks returned to his seat. - -“You mean,” he asked, “that I might get away before they came back for -me?” - -Fudge nodded. - -“I wonder! You’re certain you haven’t told anyone, Shaw? Or you, Hull?” - -“No, sir, we haven’t,” replied Fudge emphatically, even indignantly. -“We haven’t said a word to anyone. We――we thought at first you were a -safe-breaker,” he added apologetically. - -“What made you think that?” - -“I don’t know exactly. Of course, we knew you weren’t just an ordinary -thief, sir; we could see that; and so I――we thought maybe that was your -line.” - -“You wronged me there,” said Mr. Addicks, in hurt tones. “I’ve never -cracked a safe in my life Shaw.” - -“I’m sorry, sir. Only――how did you get the money from the express car -at Cartwright? Didn’t you have to break the safe open?” - -“Oh, that? Why, you see――but, look here, what made you first suspect -me?” - -“I guess it was the disguise. Besides, we knew you were playing the -piano at the theater just for a――for a bluff.” - -“So you knew that, eh?” muttered Mr. Addicks. He viewed Fudge with -admiration. “It’s a good thing you’re not on the police force, Shaw, or -I’d have been nabbed long ago. You’re a regular Burns!” - -Fudge strove to disguise his delight in the praise, and Perry broke -into the conversation anxiously. “Don’t you think you’d ought to be -going, sir?” he asked. “They may come back any moment.” - -“You’re right.” Mr. Addicks referred to a tin alarm clock on the table. -“Ten after six,” he muttered. “It’s a desperate chance, but I’ll take -it.” He disappeared into the closet and returned with a much-worn -valise which he placed, open, on a chair. “Now then, let’s see.” He -glanced frowningly about the room. “I can’t take much with me. I guess -I’d better foot it to the next town and jump the train there. Maybe -they won’t be looking for me. Boys, I don’t want to drive you away, -but if they should come and find you here they might suspect you of -tipping me off. I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble on my account, -and it might go hard with you if they found it out. Better get out -while there’s time.” - -Fudge looked uneasy. “Well, maybe we had,” he murmured. “They might put -us through the third degree and make us tell.” - -“That’s just what they’d do,” said Mr. Addicks convincedly. “I’m mighty -grateful to you fellows, and if the thanks of a train-robber are of any -value to you――――” - -“_Whats that?_” asked Perry, startled. With a swift leap Mr. Addicks -reached the gaslight and turned it out. In the darkness they listened -with straining ears. No sound reached them, however, beyond the usual -noises from the street. “I thought,” muttered Perry apologetically, “I -heard something.” - -[Illustration: “‘What’s that?’ asked Perry, startled”] - -“I g-g-guess,” said Fudge, as Mr. Addicks lighted the gas again, “I -g-g-guess we’d better go.” - -“Yes,” whispered Mr. Addicks, “don’t run any risks. Good-by, boys. Take -care of yourselves and, whatever you do, remain honest.” He shook hands -with Fudge and then with Perry. “Remember that honesty is the best -policy and take it from me that there’s nothing in train robbery. A -fellow hasn’t got a fair chance nowadays.” - -“Couldn’t you――if they don’t get you this time, sir, couldn’t you――” -Perry faltered embarrassedly――“couldn’t you reform, sir?” - -“I’ll try, Hull, I swear to you I’ll try.” Mr. Addicks seemed quite -affected and, after the door had closed behind them, they thought they -heard a sob. They stole noiselessly down the stairs. On the sidewalk -Fudge drew a deep breath of relief as he glanced left and right and saw -no policeman. - -“Gee, I hope he gets away,” he whispered huskily. - -Perry nodded. “So do I. He――he’s a mighty nice fellow. What do you say -if we stay around until he goes, Fudge? I’d like to be sure he gets -away, wouldn’t you?” - -“Yes, but it wouldn’t be safe. They might――might connect us with his -escape. Why, even now they may be watching the building! Come on, but -don’t walk too fast. Try to look careless, Perry.” - -So, looking careless, they reached the corner, but there, to Perry’s -surprise, Fudge seized him by the arm and dragged him on. “We’ve got to -throw them off the track,” he muttered. “They may follow us.” - -Silently they proceeded another block and then, when Fudge had turned -quickly and glanced back along G Street, they slipped around the -corner, cut through a yard and climbed a fence, dodged past a house and -finally gained Troutman Street. - -“There,” said Fudge, with satisfaction, “I guess we’ve thrown them off -all right.” He stopped a moment, made a silent investigation and added -darkly: “I hope they tear their pants on that fence the way I did!” - -“It must be awfully late,” said Perry. “I guess I’ll go back this way; -it’s shorter.” - -“Better not,” warned Fudge. “Come on to F Street. They might see you.” - -“I hope,” mused Perry as they went on down the block, “I hope he will -try to reform, Fudge. He doesn’t seem what you’d call a hardened -criminal, does he?” - -“No, he doesn’t. I guess there’s a lot of good in him, Perry. I dare -say he will get away safely and go back out West and settle down just -like you or me.” - -“I do hope so.” Perry sighed. “I liked him a lot, Fudge.” - -“Me, too. I wish he wasn’t a criminal, that’s what I wish. And, oh, -shucks, now he can’t do that drawing! I’ll have to tell Dick that he -left town unexpectedly. Say, let’s do something to-night, Perry. Think -your folks’ll let you go to the movies?” - -“I’ll ask them. I ought to study, but――but I guess I’m too excited.” -Perry laughed softly. “Say, a fellow doesn’t save a train-robber from -the police every day, does he?” - -“I guess not! I guess if the fellows knew what we’d been up to to-day -they’d open their eyes!” - -“I suppose, though, we oughtn’t to tell them.” - -“Hm, well, not for a long while,” answered Fudge. - -As Fudge had remained away from the theater for some time, his mother, -after extracting a promise to get up early and study his lessons before -breakfast, at last consented to let him go, and Fudge was leaning over -Perry’s fence promptly at twenty minutes to eight and whistling his -doleful signal. Perry joined him without his cap and spoke subduedly. - -“Will you wait a few minutes, Fudge?” he asked apologetically. “Dad and -mother are going with us. Do you mind very much?” - -Fudge kicked the base-board of the fence, a reckless thing to do -considering the condition of it, and finally replied with a noticeable -lack of enthusiasm: “Of course not――much. What they going for, Perry? I -didn’t know they _ever_ went.” - -“They don’t. Only dad took it into his head that he’d like to see what -the movies are like, and ma said she’d go, too. I’m sorry.” - -“Well――” Fudge stopped and then asked hopefully: “Do you think they’ll -pay for me, Perry?” - -“I guess so,” was the doubtful answer. Further conversation across the -fence was prevented by a summons for Perry, and a minute or two later -the quartette was on its way to the theater. To Fudge’s satisfaction, -Doctor Hull, directed by Perry, attended to the trifling matter of -tickets and they filed in. The slight delay had allowed the front half -of the house to fill and they were obliged to seat themselves fifteen -rows back, a location not at all to Fudge’s liking. Fudge derived great -enjoyment, in the interims between films, from observing the orchestra, -and from back here all he could see well was just the man at the piano, -and the man at the piano was the least interesting―――― - -“Why, Fudge Shaw, what _is_ the matter?” exclaimed Mrs. Hull. - -“N-n-nothing, ma’am,” replied Fudge chokingly. - -“Aren’t you well?” - -“Y-yes’m.” - -“You don’t look it. You sure you don’t feel faint?” - -“No’m――yes’m, I mean. I――I just had a twinge.” - -Mrs. Hull viewed him doubtfully and a trifle disapprovingly and -turned to the Doctor to confide her belief that Fudge was by no means -a satisfactory companion for Perry. Whereupon Fudge dug his elbow -painfully into Perry’s ribs and whispered excitedly: - -“Perry, look down there!” - -“Where? What?” demanded the other, squirming out of the way of Fudge’s -energetic elbow. “What is it?” - -“The man at the piano! Look at him!” - -Perry looked and gasped and looked again. Surely that back and those -shoulders and that head belonged to―――― - -At that instant the piano player turned to speak to the violinist -and the boys gazed, astounded, on the false mustache and smiling -countenance of Mr. Addicks, the train-robber! - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -MR. ADDICKS EXPLAINS - - -Fudge and Perry gazed spellbound. - -There was no chance of mistake, even at that distance. Before them, -smiling, unconcerned, sat Mr. Myron Addicks, one hand resting -negligently on his hip, the other on the keyboard of the piano. No -one would ever have suspected him of being a fugitive from justice! -Presently, quite as though he had nothing to fear nor an enemy in the -world, he turned and looked calmly over the audience. Fudge’s gasp was -painful in its intensity, and Mrs. Hull’s thoughts sped to peppermint -tea. Then the lights went down, the orchestra broke into tuneful melody -and the entertainment began. - -But all through the performance the two boys shivered whenever a -footstep came creaking along the aisle or there was a sudden stir -behind them. They had visions of the entire Clearfield Police Force, -led by the stout and intrepid Chief, filing down the passage-way and -clapping the hand of the Law on the shoulder of the cowboy-pianist. -That the performance came finally to an end without anything of the -sort happening was almost unbelievable. The boys accompanied the -Doctor and Mrs. Hull home, talking in excited whispers all the way but -reaching no satisfactory conclusions regarding Mr. Addicks’ strange -actions. The Doctor, who had been innocently surprised and delighted -with his first experience of moving pictures, frequently interrupted -their conversation with questions and reminiscences and they reached -the gate before they realized it. Perry’s request to be allowed to walk -half-way home with Fudge was firmly denied and the latter took his -departure with a last whispered: “I’ll be around at seven, Perry. Be -ready!” - -What was to happen at seven in the morning, what he was to be ready -for, Perry didn’t know, but the mysterious command added further -interest to an already absorbing state of affairs and Perry presently -went to bed to participate in the wildest and weirdest adventures that -ever befell a sleeping youth! - -He was up at a little after six, dressed by half-past and waiting on -the front porch in a patch of sunlight. Fudge, in spite of his good -intentions, was late and it was almost a quarter past seven when he -appeared hurrying down the street. Perry joined him on the sidewalk and -Fudge, linking arms, conducted him around the corner. - -“We’re going to see him,” he said determinedly. “If he hasn’t gone -already maybe he can get away before they look for him.” - -He hadn’t gone. Fudge’s peremptory knock was followed by the sudden -opening of the door and the vision of a surprised and pajama-clad Mr. -Addicks confronting them. Fudge allowed no time for questions. He -pushed past the puzzled train-robber, followed by Perry, and motioned -the door shut. There was no evidence of hurried flight in view. The -room looked quite as usual. The screen had been removed, revealing a -tumbled cot-bed evidently very recently occupied, and on a one-burner -stove, connected with the gas bracket by a tube, stood a sauce-pan of -water which was already bubbling about the edges. Other indications of -breakfast were there; two eggs and a tiny coffee canister and a half -loaf of bread adorning a corner of the table. Fudge’s voice was almost -stern as he confronted Mr. Addicks. - -“Why didn’t you beat it?” he demanded in a hoarse whisper. “Do you -_want_ to get pinched?” - -Mr. Addicks politely controlled a yawn and viewed Fudge with -puzzlement. Then he scratched his head, picked up a tattered -dressing-gown and slipped into it and, seating himself on the bed, -thrust his hands into the pockets of the robe and spoke. - -“Look here, boys, what is this?” he asked plaintively. “I’m an awful -poor performer before breakfast.” - -“But――but you said you were going last night!” said Fudge accusingly. -“And we saw you playing the piano at the theater! Why, they might have -nabbed you any minute!” - -Mr. Addicks shook his head. “I was disguised,” he replied. - -“That’s no disguise,” said Fudge contemptuously. “You’re taking awful -chances, sir. Couldn’t you get away now before they start to look for -you?” - -“Before I’ve had my breakfast?” demanded the man weakly. - -“Well, wouldn’t you rather go without breakfast than have it in jail?” -inquired Fudge impatiently. “If you start right now you might get the -seven-forty train. I don’t believe they’d be watching the station so -early, sir!” - -Mr. Addicks’ expression became gravely curious. “Now, look here, -hombres,” he said, “this is just play, isn’t it?” - -“Play!” gasped Fudge. “What do you mean, play?” - -“Why, this police business, of course. I mean, you don’t really believe -that I’m that train-robber hero of yours, do you?” - -Fudge’s jaw dropped and he stared blankly. Finally: “Do you m-m-mean -that――that you aren’t?” he asked in a small voice. - -Mr. Addicks shrugged. “Naturally I mean that, Shaw. I thought yesterday -that you fellows were playing a game and I entered into it for the fun -of it. But when you burst in at half-past seven in the morning and want -me to leave town without any breakfast――well, I quit. You’ll have to -find someone else for the part, old chap!” - -“And you’re not the train-robber?” gasped Fudge. - -“My dear fellow, I never robbed a train in my life. Sorry to disappoint -you, but――well, there it is!” - -“Then――then w-w-what have you done?” Fudge demanded. - -“Not a thing,” laughed Mr. Addicks. “Shaw, you’ll have to reconstruct -your ideas of me. I’m not the man you want at all. I never robbed -a train or cracked a safe or even snatched a purse. I’m just an -unromantic sort of a dub with no criminal record at all.” - -“I just knew it,” murmured Perry, relieved. - -Mr. Addicks glanced at him and smiled. “Thanks for your good opinion, -Hull,” he said. “Now, fellows, let’s thresh this out. How did you get -it into your head I was the train-robber, Shaw?” - -Fudge, still mazed and a bit incoherent, did his best to explain. -He told the story from the start, acknowledging that for a while he -had only half-pretended to believe in the theory of Mr. Addicks’ -criminality, but owning that the notice in the express office, coupled -with blue eyes and a scar on the left fore-arm, had ultimately -convinced him. Several times during his recital Mr. Addicks chuckled -amusedly, and when Fudge had reached a somewhat lame finish he pulled -back the sleeves of his dressing-gown and pajama jacket. - -“What sort of a scar was it?” he asked gravely. - -“It――it was a white scar about two inches long, sir,” stammered Fudge. - -Mr. Addicks held out his arm for inspection. “Have a look,” he said. -Perry and Fudge looked. Then Fudge turned the arm over. Then he lifted -surprised eyes to Mr. Addicks. “It m-m-m-must have b-b-been the other -one!” he said. - -Mr. Addicks obligingly bared the right arm. Neither one showed any sign -of a scar! Fudge was plainly dazed. - -“B-b-but I s-s-s-saw it!” he muttered. Mr. Addicks laughed. - -“So did I, and it must have been the day you were here that first time. -I upset the tooth-powder that morning――my toilet accommodations are a -bit sketchy, you see――and got some on my arm. I found it there that -night. I guess that was the scar you saw, my friend.” - -Fudge gazed helplessly from Perry to Mr. Addicks and back to Perry. His -expression was too ludicrous for Perry to view with a straight face and -suddenly the latter burst into a laugh. Mr. Addicks joined him. Finally -Fudge followed suit, although a bit sheepishly. And when the merriment -was subsiding he pointed an accusing finger toward the table. - -“How about th-th-that?” he demanded. - -“That” was a luxuriant brown false mustache lying on the table. - -“Eh? Oh, the ‘disguise,’” chuckled Mr. Addicks. “Well, I’ll tell you. -That _did_ look bad, I guess. You see, I was pretty nearly broke when -I struck this place and found that my inheritance was nothing more than -a full-grown, man-size mortgage. So I looked around for something to -do until I could get a start at surveying. I couldn’t find anything -until I happened on an advertisement in the paper for a pianist at the -theater. Well, playing in a theater orchestra didn’t seem to me to be -just what you’d expect a civil engineer to do. I thought that perhaps -if people knew I did that they wouldn’t consider me much good as a -surveyor. So I concluded I’d wear that mustache as a sort of disguise. -I had a lot of trouble with it at first. Got to the stage door one day -without it and had to go back for it. And once it dropped off on the -piano keys, but no one noticed it, fortunately. This leading a double -life is trying, fellows!” - -At that moment the sauce-pan on the little stove began to boil over and -Mr. Addicks jumped up and rescued it. - -“We’d better be going along, I guess,” said Perry. “You haven’t had -your breakfast, and neither have we.” - -“I’d ask you to have some with me, only, as a matter of fact, my larder -is pretty empty this morning. Tell you what, fellows, drop around after -the theater this afternoon and we’ll go on with the trial. Now that -I’ve started, I’d really like to convince you that I’m a respectable -member of society.” - -“We believe it already,” replied Perry, with a grin. - -“Sure,” agreed Fudge. But his tone held deep disappointment, and Mr. -Addicks, noting it, laughed. - -“Shaw, you almost make me wish I really was a train-robber or something -desperate!” he said. “I suppose you’ll never take any more interest in -me after this.” - -Fudge smiled, a trifle embarrassed. - -“And,” continued Mr. Addicks, “I can’t much blame you. That reward -sounded pretty good, I’ll warrant!” - -“R-r-reward!” blurted Fudge. “Gee, you don’t suppose we were looking -for that reward when we came here and warned you s-s-s-so you could get -away!” - -“That’s true, Shaw. I beg your pardon. You acted like a good pal there, -and I thank you. You too, Hull. You both of you acted white. By the -way, is everything quite cleared up? Any little things you’d like -explained?” - -“N-no, sir, I guess not,” replied Fudge. “Still about that -policeman――――” - -“Oh, Lafferty? Well, Lafferty’s rather a friend of mine and sometimes -drops in for a smoke. That’s all.” Mr. Addicks chuckled. “Lafferty -would be interested if he knew! But I shan’t tell him. Will you come -around again and see me later?” - -“Yes, sir, thank you,” replied Perry. “And Fudge isn’t _really_ sorry -you’re not the train-robber, Mr. Addicks; are you, Fudge?” - -“Of course not!” Fudge grinned. “Anyway, it was a lot of fun while it -lasted!” - -“That’s all right, then,” said their host heartily. “Glad you don’t -hold it against me. I know that a civil engineer isn’t as interesting -as a desperado, fellows, but you drop in now and then and maybe we -can scare up some excitement, eh? And if you ever want a nice job of -surveying done, why, you let me know, and it won’t cost you a cent.” - -“S-s-surveying!” exclaimed Fudge. “We forgot to t-t-t-tell him!” - -“That’s so,” Perry agreed. - -“It’s Mr. B-B-Brent, sir. You’re to g-g-go and see him this forenoon -and maybe he will have some w-w-w-work for you.” - -“You really mean it?” asked Mr. Addicks. “Jonathan Brent, over at the -mills? What makes you think so?” - -Whereupon Fudge, Perry assisting, explained, and when he had finished -Mr. Addicks insisted on shaking hands with them both very hard, so hard -that their fingers ached for minutes afterwards. - -“You chaps are a couple of bricks!” he told them delightedly. “I don’t -see why you took the trouble for me, but I’m certainly obliged. I hope -Mr. Brent will come across with the job. Even if he shouldn’t, I thank -you just the same. What sort of a man is he, by the way?” - -“He’s a small man,” replied Fudge uncertainly. “Sort of wrinkled. Looks -right through you and out behind. Kind of scares you at first, I guess. -He’s got a lot of money and made it all himself. Gives a heap of it -away, though, they say. I guess,” he summed up shrewdly, “that if you -don’t let him scare you, you’ll get on all right.” - -“I’ll try not to,” answered Mr. Addicks gravely. Perry smiled. The -civil engineer didn’t exactly look as if he would be easily frightened! -And then Fudge recalled Lanny’s message about the design for the -pennant. - -“Dick said they couldn’t pay very much for it,” he explained -apologetically, “but maybe a couple of dollars――――” - -“A couple of fiddlesticks! It won’t cost them a cent. I’ll be glad to -do it. We’ll talk it over this afternoon and I’ll make a sketch and -you can show it to your friend. I’m only sorry I’m not doing it for you -chaps.” - -“Well, you will be, in a way,” replied Fudge very gravely. “You see, -that pennant’s to go to the fellow making the most points in the -Springdale meet, and it’s as good as mine right now!” - -Two days later there was a new pianist at the moving picture theater, -for Mr. Addicks was busy with level and pole on a piece of work that -would occupy him at least a fortnight. And while there had been no -promise of further employment, the surveyor was pretty certain that Mr. -Brent meant to keep him at work for some time to come. In any case, he -had made his start, and the false mustache reposed nowadays on the wall -of his room surrounded by the penciled features of a villainous-looking -individual whom he called “Edward Hurley, the Noted Train-Robber.” A -card appeared in the _Reporter_ announcing that Myron Addicks, Civil -Engineer, was at the service of the public, and a neat black-and-gold -sign was hung outside the entrance to the building. Later still Mr. -Addicks rented the adjoining room and used it for an office and -workshop. Gradually it assumed a most business-like appearance. A long -table held fascinating drawing instruments and squares and protractors -and strange black rubber triangles and curves and rolls of tracing -cloth and printing-frames, to say nothing of paints and inks simply -begging investigation! To Fudge that room was a never-failing source -of delight, and, since he and Perry soon became fast friends with -Mr. Addicks, he had frequent opportunities to test its pleasures. By -summer both he and Perry had dedicated themselves to the profession of -civil engineering and were doing remarkable things with compasses and -ruling-pens and little black rubber squares. It was, I think, shortly -after the close of school that Fudge commenced his ambitious task of -mapping the City of Clearfield! But I am far ahead of my story. - -The design for the Track Trophy was made, submitted and enthusiastically -approved. The pennant itself was completed a week later and was placed -on exhibition in a window of Cosgrove’s jewelry store. A placard neatly -printed by Mr. Addicks reposed beside it and explained that it was to be -awarded as a prize to that member of the Clearfield High School Track -Team winning the greatest number of points at the annual meet with -Springdale High School. It was really a very handsome trophy and Louise -Brent and her aids had done themselves proud. The pennant was twenty-four -inches in length and fourteen inches in height, of heavy purple silk. A -wreath of green laurel leaves enclosed the letters “C. H. S.” in white. -Purple satin ribbons held the pennant to a gilt staff, and altogether it -formed a prize well worth striving for. And so most of the Track Team -members thought. - -Besides inciting the members of the team themselves to greater -endeavors, the trophy aroused a new interest in and enthusiasm for -track and field athletics throughout the school. Fellows who had -never for an instant contemplated going out for the team were heard -regretting the fact that they had allowed others to dissuade them and -promising that next year they’d show something! - -Meanwhile May hurried along with sunny skies――and some cloudy ones for -variety――and the baseball players began to meet opponents worthy of -their skill and the Track Team, imbued with a new enthusiasm, worked -their hardest. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -ON THE TRACK - - -By the middle of the month the Track Team comprised twenty members, -several less than coach and captain had hoped for. By a good deal of -intricate scheming those twenty were apportioned over the seven track -and five field events so that in each Clearfield would be represented -by not less than three wearers of the purple. In many cases a second -was the best that Captain Felker dared hope for, in some cases a third -would be all he expected. A number of the fellows were being coached -in things they had never dreamed of undertaking. George Tupper, -for instance, who had run fourth last spring in the 440-yards, had -been prevailed on to drop that event and go in for the mile, since -the four-forty was represented by three more promising performers -and the mile run was left to Toll and Smith. In the same way, Thad -Brimmer, whose specialty was the weights, was induced to make a third -competitor in the high jump. Lanny White, who was entered for both -dashes and the high hurdles, entered for the low hurdles also. Soper, a -fair sprinter, developed remarkably as a broad-jumper. - -Of course there were disappointments at first in what Arthur Beaton -humorously called “intensive track athletics.” That is, several fellows -selected for events that were new to them failed absolutely to show -any ability and had to be switched to something else. Neither Coach -Presser nor Captain Felker hoped to develop extraordinary talent in -this way. What they desired to do was to be represented in each event -by at least three contestants and so possibly gain here or there a -point or two that would otherwise go to Springdale. When the final -arrangement was completed there were four entries for the 100-yards -dash, the 220-yards dash, the hammer-throw and the shot-put, and three -for each of the other events on the program. Lanny White was to attempt -more than any other member of the team, being down for four events, and -several others were down for three. Naturally, Lanny did not expect -to be placed in each of his races, but there was always the chance of -crowding a Springdale fellow out in the trials. In the dashes Lanny was -fairly certain of getting a first and a second, if not two firsts, and -he hoped to get placed in the high hurdles. Perry Hull had attempted to -show form as a broad-jumper, but after a week of it had convinced Skeet -that that was not his forte. In the end he was slated for the sprints -only. - -Perry had his second time-trial on the seventeenth of the month and -Skeet announced the time as 10 3/5 for the hundred and 24 3/5 for the -two-twenty. Neither performance was remarkable, but Perry had a strong -belief in his ability to better them both; and, in any case, he had -performed as well as any of his teammates except Lanny and Kirke in the -hundred and Lanny in the two-twenty. Lanny told him he had done finely -and assured him that in another fortnight he would be able to cut -another fifth of a second from his time. “And if you do,” said Lanny, -“you’ll stand as good a chance for second place as any of the fellows. -I don’t think that Springdale has a sprinter who can do better than -two-fifths this year. It will be a corking race for second place!” - -Perry was encouraged and his enthusiasm arose to new heights. For the -next week he clamored for another time-trial, but Skeet denied him. -Instead, he insisted on Perry working well over his distance for days -after that trial, and neither he nor the other sprinters were once -allowed to show their real speed. - -Meanwhile, Perry was observing such strict rules of diet that Mrs. Hull -was in despair. Perry’s natural liking for pie and cake was sternly -repressed and his mother became frequently quite impatient and said -that training was a piece of foolishness and that Perry would soon -be only skin and bones unless he ate more. There seemed to be some -justification for her fears, for the steady work on the cinders was -certainly carving Perry pretty fine. He had not been by any means fat -before, but now he was getting down to his muscles, and one morning -when his mother surprised him on his way to the bath and viewed the -slimness of his legs as revealed by a flapping dressing-robe, she sent -up a wail of alarm and forthwith sought the Doctor, declaring that -“this running just had to be stopped or Perry would starve to death -before their eyes! He looks right now,” she said, “like one of those -Indian famine victims!” But the Doctor declined to become concerned. -“He’s better off as he is, Mother,” he replied. “A fifteen-year-old boy -doesn’t need fat.” - -“But he’s not eating anything!” - -“You mean,” the Doctor chuckled, “he’s not eating pie and cake and a -mess of sweet truck. I’ve failed to notice, though, that he has ever -refused a third helping of meat and vegetables lately! Suppose, instead -of pie and chocolate layer-cake, you make some simple puddings, my -dear; tapioca, rice, corn-starch. I guess he will eat those all right; -and they’ll be a lot better for him.” - -Mrs. Hull retired unconvinced, but afterwards forbore to predict -disaster when Perry refused pie. Experiments with the simple desserts -the Doctor had suggested were fairly successful. Perry referred to a -diet-list that was pinned beside his bureau and relaxed to the extent -of partaking sparingly of the puddings. - -Fudge, too, was denying himself prescribed dishes, although with far -less philosophy than was displayed by his friend. Pie with Fudge was -a passion, and cakes containing oozing jelly or soft icing filled his -soul with beatitude. When all else failed, he fell back on doughnuts. -To be cut off from these things was a woeful experience to Fudge. Once -he had “trained” for the Football Team, but that training had been a -very sketchy performance; nothing at all like the awful self-denial he -practiced――or, at least, strove to practice――now. - -“I don’t mind not eating starchy things,” he confided to Perry one -day, “but this breaking away from the table when the pie comes on is -fierce! I haven’t had a hunk of pie,” he added drearily, “for three -weeks, and there’s a place right here”――he laid a sympathetic hand over -the third button of his vest――“that won’t be happy until it gets it!” - -However, to make up for the discomforts of dieting, he had the -satisfaction of accomplishing Herculean stunts with the twelve-pound -hammer. Partridge already viewed him as a probable point-winner, for he -had nearly equaled Falkland’s best performance and had out-distanced -Thad Brimmer by four feet. It was well that Partridge, and Guy Felker, -too, dealt out praise and encouragement to Fudge, for the temptation -to backslide in the matter of pie dogged him incessantly. There was -one tragic night when he lay in bed and fought for all of an hour -against the haunting vision of three raisin pies sitting side by side -in the pantry downstairs. What eventually vanquished temptation was -the knowledge that if he stole down and cut into one of those pies his -mother would know it. And after all the fine-sounding speeches he had -made to her on the subject of denying one’s appetite for the sake of -the School, he hadn’t the heart for it. - -Now that the School had “taken up” athletics it was a lot more fun -practicing. Whereas heretofore scarcely a dozen fellows had watched -the performances of the Track Team, now the daily practice was almost -as popular as baseball and squads of critical but enthusiastic youths -stood about the track and applauded and urged on their friends. The -hammer-throw was sufficiently spectacular to attract a large gallery -every afternoon, and I’m not denying that Fudge strutted a little when, -having tossed the weight far away across the field, he allowed some -admiring acquaintance to help him on with the crimson dressing-robe he -affected. - -Over at Springdale great things were said of the local Track Team, and -the Springdale paper even now predicted victory. Guy Felker and the -others studied that paper every day and compared what they learned -of the Blue team’s performances with what they knew of their own, -sometimes with satisfaction and more often with alarm. There was -no disguising the fact that Springdale would send a team more than -ordinarily strong in the quarter, half and mile events and in the -jumps. The Blue was likely to prove weak in the sprints and hurdles and -at present seemed about on a par with the Purple in the hammer-throw -and shot-put. Springdale’s best performer with the shot was credited -with thirty-nine feet and two inches, but Skeet declared himself -skeptical about that. Arthur Beaton spent hours at a time drawing -up predictions of the outcome of the dual meet which proved, to his -satisfaction at least, that the Purple would win by a good fifteen -points. But Beaton was notably an optimist. - -The plan of holding a School meet was abandoned owing to the small -number of members, but, on the twenty-first of the month the entrants -in each event were allowed to compete against each other and the -results were posted. Skeet did not, however, publish times or -distances, although they were made known to the contestants. In the -dashes Lanny finished first with ease, Kirke getting second place -in the hundred-yards and third in the two-twenty. Perry tied with -Soper for third place in the short distance and finished fourth in -the two-twenty. Since, however, a blanket would have covered all the -sprinters but Lanny at the finish of that race, fourth place was not -vastly different from second. The time was disappointing, but the track -was soft after an all-night rain and Skeet didn’t seem troubled when he -snapped Lanny ten and two-fifths for the hundred and twenty-four and -three-fifths for the longer sprint. The high hurdles went to Lanny and -Beaton finished only three yards behind him. Peyton fell at the second -hurdle and was a poor third. In the low hurdles Lanny was swept off his -feet by Peyton and had to work hard to beat out Beaton for the next -honors. The jumps developed poor performances, but in the pole-vault -Guy Felker surprised himself and everyone else by doing ten feet and -one inch, bettering the school and the dual record by two and a half -inches. That and Partridge’s shot-put of thirty-seven feet and two -inches were the only notable performances that afternoon. - -The mile run proved a good deal of a fizzle. Smith, considered the only -dependable entrant for that event, had cramps and dropped out on the -third lap, and Toll and Tupper fought it out together, Toll finishing -well in the lead in the slow time of six minutes and twenty seconds. -Evidently the result of the mile was a foregone conclusion since it was -well known that Springdale’s best miler had a record of five minutes -and five seconds. The half-mile was a good race――Todd, Lasker and -Train finishing in that order, the winner’s time being two minutes and -fourteen and one-fifth seconds. The quarter-mile saw Todd, Sears and -Cranston running bunched until the final fifty yards, when Sears forged -ahead and finished with his head up in the fair time of fifty-four -and four-fifths seconds. In the hammer event, which wasn’t finished -until after six o’clock, Partridge won handily with a best throw of one -hundred and twenty-six feet and seven inches. Falkland was second with -a hundred and twenty-one feet and three inches and Fudge was third at a -hundred and eighteen feet and six inches. Thad Brimmer was in poor form -and was several feet behind Fudge. - -The contests brought out many faults not displayed previously, and to -that extent were useful. Possibly, too, they served to accustom new -members of the team to the conditions of competition. At any rate, the -fellows enjoyed them, and the audience did too. There was one member -of the audience who, seated in the grandstand, watched events with a -deal of interest. This was Mr. Addicks. As it was Saturday and work was -for the time slack, he had treated himself to an afternoon off. No one -paid any attention to him; few, indeed, observed him; certainly neither -Perry nor Fudge. He would have liked to have gone down on the field and -mingled with the throngs along the track and about the pits, but since -he was not a High School fellow he thought he might be trespassing. -There was no ball game to-day to divide attention, for the Nine had -gone off to play against, and, incidentally, get drubbed by Templeton -College. Mr. Addicks watched the sprints and hurdle events critically -and found no fault with Lanny White’s work. Lanny, he concluded, was a -born sprinter and hurdler and only needed better training to become a -master of those arts. With the rest, though, he was far less satisfied. -Indeed, he frowned a good deal over the running of the other three -competitors. He didn’t remain until the end, but left the field after -the quarter-mile run. He had wanted to see Fudge’s performance with the -hammer, for Fudge had talked rather importantly of it of late, but he -couldn’t see that event taking place anywhere and didn’t think to look -outside the field. On the way back to town he stopped in the telegraph -office and made use of a telegram blank to write a brief note. This he -dropped through the letter-slot in Dr. Hull’s front door, and Perry -found it awaiting him when he got home. It read: - - ALKALI IKE: Come and see me this evening if you can. If not, in - the morning. Death to traitors! - - DEADWOOD DICK. - -Ever since he had learned of the boys’ suspicions regarding him, Mr. -Addicks had humorously insisted on applying such picturesque aliases to -them and himself. Fudge was “Four-Fingered Pete,” usually, although -sometimes he was addressed as “Willie Rufus, the Boy Detective.” Perry -was variously “Alkali Ike,” “Doctor Watson” or “The Apache Kid.” Perry -smiled as he read the missive, got Fudge on the telephone and announced -his purpose of calling on Mr. Addicks after supper and instructed Fudge -to join him there, and then descended hungrily on the contents of the -table. He was very full of the afternoon’s proceedings and, although he -didn’t suspect it, I fancy his father and mother were relieved when the -meal was over and he grabbed his cap and disappeared. - -He found Mr. Addicks working at a drawing-table in the new room into -which he had moved a few days before, but his host laid aside pen and -ruler, square and compass, and took him into the old apartment, now a -trifle more comfortable by reason of the acquisition of a second-hand -easy-chair. Into this he forced Perry and took his own position as -usual on a corner of the table. - -“I saw you run to-day,” he announced, “and I want to talk to you about -it.” - -“Were you there?” asked Perry. “I didn’t see you. Why didn’t you let me -know?” - -“I sat in the stand. I didn’t know whether they’d want me on the -field.” - -“Shucks, everyone comes on. I wish I’d known you were there. What――what -did you think of it?” - -“The field?” asked Mr. Addicks innocently. - -“No, I mean the――the sprinting and all.” - -“I thought that fellow White was a mighty clever runner, Perry. I don’t -know that I ever saw a chap handle himself much better. Of course he -wasn’t half trying to-day. He didn’t have to. I’d like to see him when -he was pushed.” - -“He’s fine, Lanny is,” said Perry admiringly. “And Kirke is pretty -good, too, didn’t you think? He got second in the hundred, you know.” - -“That his name? Well, he’s not the sprinter White is. Is that little -thin fellow your trainer? The fellow in the brown-and-white sweater?” - -“Yes, that’s Skeet Presser. He used to be a champion miler; or maybe it -was half-miler; I forget.” - -“Is he considered a good coach?” - -“Oh, yes, sir! He trains at the Y. M. C. A., you know.” - -Mr. Addicks smiled. “Well, that ought to be conclusive, Perry! But let -me ask you something now. Who taught you how to run?” - -“Why, he did; he and Lanny. Lanny coaches the sprinters sometimes.” - -“White, you mean? Well, did either of them ever tell you that you -ought to use your arms in running?” - -“My arms? No, sir, I don’t think so. Skeet told me I wasn’t to let my -arms get behind me.” - -“That was clever of him,” said Mr. Addicks dryly. “Have you ever -watched your friend White run?” - -“Yes, lots of times.” - -“Ever notice what he does with his arms?” - -Perry hesitated. “I don’t think so, particularly.” - -“Well, you should. Look here, Perry, you’re not really running, my boy. -You made a nice start to-day in the two-twenty and you used a nice -stride when you found it, which wasn’t until you were pretty nearly -to the tape, but you waved your arms all over the lot and never once -used them to help your running. Now if you’re ever going to do anything -in the sprints, or in the distances, either, you’ve got to learn how -to use your arms. A sprinter runs with three things, Perry; his legs, -his arms and his head. You use your legs fairly well, although you’re -trying to get too long a stride for a chap with legs the length yours -are; and I guess you’ll learn to use your head well enough when you’ve -been in a few races; but you aren’t getting anything out of your arms; -in fact, you’re slowing yourself up, the way you’re beating the air -with them.” Mr. Addicks slid off the table. “Suppose I wave my arms -like this when I’m running. Think that’s any help to me? Not a bit, old -scout. Get your arm action and leg action together. Rip them forward, -like this; left leg, right arm, right leg, left arm. That way you’re -pulling yourself along. But don’t just hold them out and paddle your -hands, or trail them behind your hips or hug your chest with them the -way one of you chaps did to-day. See what I mean at all?” - -“Yes, I think so. I never knew about that, though.” - -“Of course you didn’t if no one told you. Not one of you fellows except -White ran in decent form to-day; and if someone would tell him not to -throw his head back as far as he does he’d do better yet. What the -dickens does this Skeet fellow think? That you kids can find out all -these things without being told? Why, great, jumping Geewhillikins, -there are all sorts of things to be learned if you’re going to be a -real sprinter! It isn’t just getting off the mark quick and running as -hard as you know how to the tape. There’s science in it, old scout, a -heap of science!” - -“I suppose there is,” replied Perry a trifle dejectedly. “And I don’t -suppose I’ll ever be real good at it.” - -“Why not? Don’t expect to be a ten-flat hundred-yard man yet, though. -You’re too young and your legs are too short and your lungs aren’t -big enough. For two or three years the two-twenty will be your best -distance. You can’t hustle into your stride and move fast enough to -compete with older fellows in the hundred. But, if you’ll realize that -in the two-twenty you can’t push all the way, you may make a good -performer. You have a pretty fair style, Perry. I like the way you -throw your heels without ‘dragging,’ for one thing. But what I’ve just -said about trying all the way through the two-twenty is so. It can’t -be done; at least, it can’t be done by the average sprinter. Get your -stride as soon as you can after you’re off the mark, then let your -legs carry you a while; I mean by that don’t put all your strength -into the going; save something for the last thirty yards or so. Then -let yourself out! Remember that the hundred-yards is a hustle all the -way, but the two-twenty is just a hundred and twenty yards longer and -the fellow who tries to win in the first half of the race dies at the -finish. Of course, it all comes by trying and learning. Experience -brings judgment, and judgment is what a sprinter has to have. You’ll -soon find out just about how much power you can spend in getting away -and how much you can use in the first twenty seconds and how much -you’ll need for the final spurt. Only, until you have learned that, -play it safe and don’t try all the way. If you do you’ll finish tied up -in a hard knot! See what I mean?” - -“Yes, sir, thanks.” - -“Try it and see if I’m not right.” Mr. Addicks perched himself on the -table again and swung a foot thoughtfully. “I wish I had the coaching -of you for a couple of weeks,” he said. “I’d make a two-twenty man out -of you or I miss my guess!” - -“I wish you had,” replied Perry wistfully. “No one told me all that, -Mr. Addicks. Couldn’t you――I mean, I don’t suppose you’d have time to -show me, would you?” - -“I’m afraid not.” Mr. Addicks shook his head. “I’d like to, though. I -guess the trouble with this Skeet fellow is that he’s got so much on -his hands he can’t give thorough attention to any one thing. Still, I -should think he’d see that his sprinters are making a mess of it. White -ought to savvy it, anyway.” He was silent a minute. Then: “Look here,” -he said abruptly, “what time do you get up in the morning?” - -“About seven, usually. Sometimes a little before.” - -“Seven! Great Snakes, that’s halfway to sundown! That the best you can -do?” - -“No, sir, I could get up a lot earlier if I wanted to.” - -“Well, you get up a lot earlier some morning and we’ll go out to the -track and I’ll show you what I’m talking about. Swallow a cup of -coffee, or whatever it is you drink in the morning; that’s all you’ll -need; we won’t try anything stiff. What do you say to that?” - -“Why,” replied Perry eagerly, “that would be dandy! Will you really do -it, sir? When?” - -“To-morrow――no, to-morrow’s Sunday. How about Monday? Be outside your -house at six and――――” - -Mr. Addicks was interrupted by a knock on the door, and, in response to -a lusty “Come in!” Fudge entered. - -“Ah,” exclaimed Mr. Addicks, “we have with us to-night Arizona Bill, -the Boy Hercules!” - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -THE NEW COACH - - -That early morning session at the track didn’t come off on Monday -because it was raining hard when the alarm clock which Perry had -borrowed for the occasion buzzed frantically at a quarter to six. -It had been agreed that should it be raining the event was to be -postponed. So it was Tuesday when Mr. Addicks gave his first lesson. -He was already in front of the house when Perry hurried out. He was -enveloped from neck to ankles in a thread-bare brown ulster beneath -which he wore an old pair of running-trunks and a faded green shirt. - -“Thought it might do me good to take a little exercise while I’m out -there,” he explained. “I haven’t had these things on for years, and -wasn’t sure I’d kept them until I rummaged through my trunk. Couldn’t -find my shoes, though.” Perry saw that he was wearing a pair of -rubber-soled canvas “sneakers” which had probably been white a long -time ago. “How are you feeling? Ever up so early before?” - -“A few times,” Perry laughed. “Usually on the Fourth.” - -“Had anything to eat or drink?” - -“No, sir, the fire wasn’t lighted. I’m not hungry, though.” - -“Better have something inside you. We’ll stop at the drug store and get -some hot malted-milk.” - -This they did, and then went on to the field. It was a fine, warm May -morning, and after yesterday’s showers the world looked and smelled -fresh and fragrant. They found the gates at the field locked, but it -was no trick at all to climb over the fence. Fudge had agreed to meet -them there with his stop-watch, although Mr. Addicks had assured him -that a time-trial was unthought of, but he was not on hand nor did -he appear at all that morning. Later he explained that the maid had -forgotten to call him. - -Inside, Mr. Addicks threw off his ulster and, while Perry got into his -running togs, stretched his long legs and surprised his muscles by -various contortions to which they were long unused. Perry was soon back -and Mr. Addicks put him on his mark and sent him away at little more -than a jog. “Head up,” he instructed. “Shorten your stride. That’s -better. Don’t be afraid to use the flat of your foot. Running on your -toes is too hard on your legs. Now swing your arms, Perry. Drive ’em -out and pull ’em back, boy! No, no, don’t make an effort of it. Just -easy, just easy. That’s better.” - -Mr. Addicks trotted alongside to the turn and then called a halt. - -“That’s enough. Now get your breath and watch the way I do it. Watch my -arms particularly.” - -He crouched for a start, unlike the usual sprinter holding but one -hand to the ground. Then he launched forward, caught his stride almost -at once and ran lightly back along the track, his long legs scarcely -seeming to make any effort and his arms reaching forward and back, his -body twisting slightly above the hips from side to side. It was pretty -work, and even Perry, who had never seen many runners, realized that -he was watching one who was, allowing for lack of recent practice, a -past-master. After that he was sent off again and again, for short -distances, at scarcely more than a trot until he at last solved the -philosophy of the arm movement. He had begun to despair of ever getting -the hang of it when, suddenly, he awoke to the realization that, for -the first time since he had been running, legs, arms and body were -working together in perfect unison! He had the novel sensation of being -a well-oiled machine of which every part was timing absolutely! He -slowed down at the corner and returned to his instructor with shining -eyes, triumphant and slightly astonished. - -“I did it!” he exclaimed. “I did it then, Mr. Addicks! Did you see me?” - -“Yes, you got it at last. Notice the difference?” - -“Yes, indeed!” - -“Of course you do! Before you were fighting with yourself. Now your -muscles all work together. Sit down a minute and rest. Then I want to -see you start from the mark down there and come fairly fast to the -corner. See how quickly you can get your stride and your form. Run -easily to about that white mark on the rim up there and finish hard.” - -Because Perry feared that the others would think him silly, he had -sworn Fudge to secrecy regarding the early-morning lessons, and Fudge, -who was as communicative a youth as any in Clearfield but could be as -close-mouthed as a sulky clam on occasions, kept the secret, and no one -but Mr. Addicks, his pupil and Fudge knew until long after what went on -at Brent Field between six and seven on fair mornings. Perry learned -fast, partly because he was naturally an apt pupil and partly because -Mr. Addicks was a patient and capable instructor. When a point couldn’t -be made quite clear with words Mr. Addicks stepped onto the cinders -and illustrated it, and Perry couldn’t help but understand. I think -Mr. Addicks got as much pleasure, and possibly as much benefit, from -the lessons as Perry did. He confessed the second morning that what -little running he had done the day before had lamed him considerably, -and declared his intention of getting back into trim again and staying -there. At the end of a week he was doing two and three laps of the -track and never feeling it. Fudge, who joined them occasionally, became -ardently admiring of such running as that of Mr. Addicks’ and regretted -that he had not gone in for the middle distances. “That,” he confided -to Perry one morning, “is what I call the p-p-p-poetry of motion!” And -he managed to make it sound absolutely original! - -Mr. Addicks insisted that Perry should specialize on the -two-hundred-and-twenty-yards dash, and coached him carefully over -almost every foot of that distance, from the moment he put his -spikes into the holes and awaited the signal, until he had crossed -the line, arms up and head back. Perry, who had been complimented on -his starting, discovered to his surprise that he was very much of a -duffer at it. Mr. Addicks made him arrange his holes further apart in -each direction and showed him how to crouch with less strain on his -muscles. And he showed him how to get away from the mark with a quicker -straightening of the body, so that, after a week of practice, he could -find his stride at the end of the first fifteen yards and be running -with body straight and in form. And then at last one morning there came -a time-trial over the two hundred and twenty yards and, with Fudge -sending him away and Mr. Addicks holding the watch at the finish, Perry -put every ounce of power into his running and trotted back to be shown -a dial on which the hand had been stopped at twenty-four and one-fifth! - -“Why――why――――” stammered Perry breathlessly, “that’s a fifth under the -time Lanny made last year!” - -“That doesn’t signify much,” replied Mr. Addicks. “This time may be -a fifth of a second wrong one way or another. And you must remember -that White probably made his record when he was tired from the hundred -yards. Anyway, it’s fair time, Perry, and if you can do as well as that -in the meet you’ll probably get second place at least.” - -Fudge, hurrying up to learn the result, stuttered rapturously on -being told. “I t-t-t-told him he’d m-m-m-make a p-p-peach of a -s-s-s-sprinter! D-d-d-didn’t――――” - -“You did,” laughed Perry. “Couldn’t I try the hundred now, Mr. Addicks?” - -“Not to-day, son. Too much is enough. We’ll try that some other time. -Don’t work too hard this afternoon, by the way. It’s easy to get stale -at this stage of the game. And the meet is less than two weeks off.” - -“Gee,” sighed Fudge, “I w-w-wish you’d sh-sh-show me something about -th-th-th-throwing the hammer!” - -“I would if I knew anything about it, Fudge. But I thought you were -getting on swimmingly.” - -“Pretty fair, sir. Only Falkland keeps on beating me by four or five -feet every time. I wish I were taller, that’s what I wish! He’s almost -six inches taller than I am and his arms are longer.” - -“You might wear stilts,” Perry suggested. - -“Or put French heels on your shoes,” laughed Mr. Addicks. - -Fudge sighed dolefully and then brightened. “Anyway,” he said, “I can -beat Thad! And he’s older than I, and bigger, too.” - -“Whatever happens,” said Mr. Addicks as they crossed the field, “I’ve -got to see that meet, fellows!” - -“Of course,” agreed Fudge. “Mr. Brent will let you off, won’t he?” - -“It isn’t Mr. Brent who has the say so,” replied the other with a -smile. “It’s my pocketbook, Fudge.” - -“Oh! But I thought you were making a heap of money now, sir. You went -and took that other room and――and all.” - -“That’s why I’m still poor, Four-Fingered Pete. Earning an honest -living is hard work. Sometimes I think I’ll go back to train-robbery.” - -“Aren’t you ever going to forget that?” wailed Fudge. - -Baseball was now well into mid-season. Seven games had been played, -of which two had been lost, one tied and the rest won. A Second Team, -captained by Sprague McCoy, was putting the regulars on their mettle -three afternoons a week and was playing an occasional contest of its -own with an outside nine. Dick Lovering was fairly well satisfied with -his charges, although it was too early to predict what was to happen in -the final game with Springdale, nearly a month distant. The pitching -staff was gradually coming around into shape now that warm weather -had arrived. Tom Haley, still first-choice box-artist, had pitched -a no-hit game against Locust Valley and of late had gone well-nigh -unpunished. - -The Templeton game had been somewhat of a jolt, to use Captain Jones’ -inelegant but expressive phrase, inasmuch as Templeton had been looked -on as an easy adversary, and Joe Browne, in process of being turned -into a third-choice pitcher, had started in the box against them. Joe -had been literally slaughtered in exactly two-thirds of one inning and -had thereupon gone back to right field, yielding the ball to Nostrand. -But Nostrand, while faring better, had been by no means invulnerable. -Even if he had held the enemy safe, however, Clearfield would still -have been defeated, for her hitting that day was so poor that she was -unable to overcome the four runs which Templeton had piled up in that -luckless first inning. The First Team had to stand a deal of ragging -from the Second Team fellows when they got back, for the Second had -gone down to Lesterville and won handily from a hard-hitting team of -mill operatives who had claimed the county championship for several -years. To be sure, the Second Team fellows had returned rather the -worse for wear, Terry Carson having a black eye, Howard Breen a badly -spiked instep and McCoy a bruised knee, but still they had conquered! - -The first game with Springdale――they played a series for two games -out of three――was scheduled for the fourth of June at Clearfield. The -second contest was to be held at Springdale a week later, which was -the date of the dual meet, and the third, if necessary, was to take -place at Clearfield on the seventeenth. Just now it was on the first -of these contests that the eyes of Dick and Captain Warner Jones and -the players themselves were fixed. Dick was anxious to get that first -game, whatever happened afterwards. In the second contest Clearfield -was to do without the services of Lanny as catcher, for Lanny was due -on that day to stow away some thirteen or fourteen points for the Track -Team, and while Pete Robey could be depended on to catch a good game, -Lanny’s absence from the line-up was bound to be felt. So Dick was out -after that first encounter, realizing that with that put safely on ice -he would be able to accept a defeat the following Saturday with a fair -degree of philosophy. Perhaps, fortunately for the nine, two other -members who had tried for the Track Team had failed, and Lanny was the -only one who stood to make history in two branches of athletics this -spring. - -Bert Cable, last year’s captain, labored indefatigably and was of much -assistance to Dick who, handicapped as he was by his infirmity, was -forced to do most of his coaching from the bench. That was an extremely -busy week for the Clearfield High School Baseball Team, and Gordon -Merrick confided to Lanny on Thursday that if Dick sent him to the -batting-net the next day he would probably go mad and bite someone. -“Why, last night,” he said, “I dreamed that Tom and Nostrand and Joe -Browne and two or three others were all pitching to me at once! My arms -are still lame from that nightmare!” - -“Well, there won’t be anything very strenuous to-morrow,” Lanny -comforted. “In fact, you’ll get off easier than I shall, for I’ve got -to do track work.” - -“You’re an idiot to try both,” said Gordon. “What’s going to happen to -us next week, I’d like to know, with Robey catching.” - -“Oh, Pete will get along all right. In fact, he’s a mighty good -catcher, Gordon.” - -“He’s all right at catching, but a child could steal on him. He can’t -get the ball down to second to save his life until the runner’s -brushing the dust from his trousers!” - -“Well, with Tom Haley pitching the runner ought not to get a start off -first. Tom’s the one who can hold ’em.” - -“Maybe, but I’ll bet you anything they steal a half-dozen times on us.” - -“Don’t let them get to first,” advised Lanny. “That’s the safest plan.” - -“Yes, safety first,” agreed the other. “How many races are you down for -next week, Lanny?” - -“Four, sprints and hurdles. But I may not run them all. It depends -on who qualifies. If Arthur and Eg Peyton get placed for the low -hurdles I’ll probably drop out. By the way, that young Hull is quite a -find, Gordie. I wouldn’t be surprised to see him get a second in the -two-twenty. He’s developing into a mighty spry youth. Runs nicely, too. -Lots of form. Funny thing is he never tried the sprints until this -spring.” - -“I guess Skeet is a pretty good trainer, isn’t he?” - -“Y-yes. Yes, Skeet’s all right. The only trouble with Skeet is that he -can’t seem to get it into his head that our chaps are just youngsters. -He expects them to stand a lot of hard work and then can’t understand -why they get tired and loaf. Still, he’s all right, and I wouldn’t be a -bit surprised if we won this year.” - -“Well,” Gordon laughed, “with you taking part in most of the stunts, -I don’t see how you can help it. How many points are you supposed to -annex, anyway?” - -“Thirteen or fourteen; fourteen if I’m in luck.” - -“How many do we have to have to win? Fifty-something, isn’t it?” - -“Fifty-four ties. Anything more than that wins. Arthur has it doped out -that we’re to get firsts in six events; both sprints, the high hurdles, -the quarter-mile, the pole-vault and the shot-put, and enough seconds -and thirds to give us sixty points.” - -“First place counts five and second place three――――” - -“And third place one. I don’t remember just how Arthur arrives at -his result, but he gets there somehow. It’s going to be a good meet, -anyhow, and I’m sorry you won’t be here to see it.” - -“Maybe I shall be,” responded Gordon pessimistically, “if Dick doesn’t -stop batting practice. I’ve only got two arms, and they won’t swing -many more times without dropping off! I’d like to see you run away from -those Springdale chumps, too. I suppose you’ll win that purple pennant -the girls have put up.” - -“Don’t know about that. I wouldn’t object to having it. It’s mighty -good-looking, and purple goes well with my complexion.” - -“Complexion!” jibed Gordon. “You haven’t any more complexion than a -board fence. By the way, did you see that they were patching the fence -to-day?” - -“Yes, and I hear they’re going to fix up the track for us a bit before -the meet. Wonder where they’re getting the money. Last time I heard -anything about it they had about sixty cents in the treasury.” - -“We’ve had two or three pretty fair-sized crowds out there so far. I -dare say the Corwin game brought in fifty or sixty dollars.” - -“And they got a third of it. Well, I don’t care where the money comes -from. I’m glad they’re going to mend the track. I’d hate to have -Springdale see it the way it is.” - -“I think it’s silly to fix it. They ought to leave it the way it is and -pray for rain. Then maybe some of the Springdale chaps would fall in -the puddles and drown.” - -“You’ve got a mean disposition,” laughed Lanny. - -“I’ve got a very fine disposition,” returned Gordon with dignity, -“but it’s being ruined by Dick Lovering and batting practice. Bet you -anything I don’t get a single hit Saturday.” - -“That’s right, don’t; make ’em all doubles! By the way, they’ll -probably work that left-hander of theirs against us in the first game. -I wish we had more left-hand batters.” - -“That will give Breen a show, maybe. He and Cotner and Scott are our -only port-siders, I think.” - -“Nostrand bats left-handed. If Springdale pitches Newton, Dick may use -Nostrand instead of Tom Haley. I hope he doesn’t, though. Nostrand’s a -pretty fair pitcher, but he can’t hold them on the bases the way Tom -can.” - -“No, and he scares me to death every time he pegs across. I always -expect the ball to go over my head. He needs a lot of practice throwing -to first.” - -“He’s a corking good fielder, though, Gordie. Don’t forget that. Well, -here’s where I leave you. What are you doing this evening?” - -“Nothing special. I’ve got some chemistry work to make up, though. Why? -Anything doing?” - -“Come on over to Morris’s. He’s fixed some electric lights over the -tennis court and is going to try and play at night.” - -“Don’t remember being invited.” - -“What of it? It isn’t a party.” - -“All right, but don’t expect me to play. It’s too much like swinging a -bat! Stop by for me.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - -OUT AT THE PLATE! - - -Clearfield turned out well on Saturday for the first Springdale game, -while the visitors swelled the proceeds by filling most of one whole -section behind third base. The day was fair but rather too cool for -the players, with a chilly east wind blowing down the field, a wind -that puffed up the dust from the base-paths, whisked bits of paper -around and interfered to some extent with the judging of flies in -the outfield. Springdale was in holiday mood, armed with a multitude -of blue banners and accompanied by a thick sprinkling of blue-gowned -young ladies whose enthusiasm was even more intense than that of -their escorts. Clearfield’s cheerers had to work hard to equal the -slogans that came down from that third-base stand, and Toby Sears, -cheer-leader, was forced to many appeals before he got the results he -wanted. - -Clearfield’s line-up was the same she had presented in Wednesday’s -game against Benton: Bryan, 2b.; Farrar, cf.; Merrick, 1b.; Scott, -3b.; Cotner, lf.; Jones, ss.; White, c.; Browne, rf.; Nostrand, p. -Haley was expected to go to the rescue if needed, and seven substitutes -adorned the bench and hoped to get into the game. Springdale started -with her left-hander, Newton, on the mound, and Newton, who was a big, -lazy-looking but quite competent youth, disposed of Bryan, Farrar and -Merrick without difficulty. Neither team hit safely, in fact, until -the last of the third, when Lanny managed to land a short fly just -beyond third-baseman’s reach. But Lanny, although he reached second on -a sacrifice bunt by Browne, didn’t see the plate, for Newton registered -his third strike-out against Nostrand and caused Bryan to hit into -second-baseman’s hands. - -In the fourth inning Springdale had a batting streak that lasted -until she had men on third and second with but one out. Then Tom -Nostrand passed the next batsman, who had a reputation for long hits -to the outfield, and, with the bases filled and the blue flags waving -hopefully, he struck out the next two opponents. The cheer that went up -from the Clearfield stand when the last man turned away from the plate -was undoubtedly plainly heard on the other side of town! - -Clearfield’s inning produced plenty of thrills. Farrar went out, -shortstop to first, but Gordon drove a clean safety over second and -went to third when Scott doubled to right. Cotner did his best to -sacrifice to the outfield, but the result was a foul back of first -and a second put-out. The Springdale catcher made two bluff throws to -second, hoping to coax Gordon to the plate, but the trick didn’t work. -With two balls and one strike against him, Captain Jones refused the -next delivery and had the satisfaction of hearing it declared a ball. -Then Newton floated a slow one over for a second strike and, with the -Clearfield coachers howling like wildmen and the Purple’s supporters -shouting from the stands, tried to cut the outer corner of the plate. -Warner spoiled it and the ball glanced into the seats. On third Gordon -danced and ran back and forth, while Scott, halfway between third and -second, dared a throw. Again Newton wound up and again he stepped -forward, and the ball sailed straight along the groove. Gordon dashed -up the path from third, bat and ball met and Captain Jones sped to -first. Scott rounded the last corner and headed for the plate just -as the ball bounded into the hands of the second-baseman. The latter -had plenty of time to peg across to first ahead of Warner Jones, but -something, perhaps the sight of the two runners flying home, made -him hesitate for one fatal instant. When the ball did reach the first -baseman’s impatient glove Jones was crossing the bag. - -Scott slid unchallenged past the plate and tallied the home team’s -second run, and Clearfield exulted strenuously and waved purple flags. -Two runs looked very large just then, but Dick wanted more and sent -Lanny after them. Jones had instructions to steal on the second pitch -and Lanny to hit it out if he could. Newton drove Lanny back from the -plate with his first delivery and it went for a ball. Then, after -throwing twice to first to teach Jones discretion, he sailed a low -one over. Lanny swung at it but missed and Jones beat out the throw -to second by an eyelash. Clearfield howled its glee. That steal upset -Newton and he allowed a pass. With men on second and first and Joe -Browne up another tally seemed quite within the bounds of reason, but -Newton found himself again and, working Browne into the hole with two -strikes and one ball, fooled him on an outshoot that looked very wide -of the plate. Clearfield shrieked disapproval of the decision, but -disapproval didn’t put the runners back on the bases or return Browne -to the plate. Still, two runs were two runs, and, unless Springdale did -a lot better than she had been doing, would prove sufficient to win -the game. - -The fourth and fifth passed uneventfully. Springdale worked hard and -took advantage of everything, but luck was against her when Cotner ran -back to the shadow of the fence in deep left and pulled down a long fly -that might easily have been good for two bases. Springdale had a runner -on first at the time and Cotner’s spectacular catch undoubtedly robbed -her of a tally. After that Scott threw out the next batsman and Bryan -tossed to Jones on the following play. In her half Clearfield got one -man to first on balls, but watched the succeeding three retire on easy -outs. - -It was in the sixth that Springdale began to look dangerous. Dick -had substituted Breen for Joe Browne, in the hope that the former -would take more kindly to Newton’s delivery, and it was Breen who was -directly responsible for what happened. Nostrand disposed of the first -batsman easily enough, but the next man waited him out and finally, -after popping fouls all over the place, secured a pass. The next man -laid down a slow bunt toward the box and Nostrand fielded to Jones. -The latter, however, failed to complete the double. The following -batter hit safely past Scott and second and first bases were occupied. -Springdale’s catcher was up now and he had so far proved an easy victim -to Nostrand’s slow ball. But this time the signs failed. With two -strikes against him he managed to connect with a waister and sent it -arching into short right field. Gordon started back, but it was quite -evidently Breen’s ball, and Breen was trotting in for it. But something -happened. Perhaps the wind caught the sphere and caused the fielder’s -undoing. At all events, the ball went over Breen’s head by several feet -and two runs crossed the plate! - -In the ensuing dismay and confusion the batsman slid safely to second. -Springdale stood up and yelled like mad, and, after a minute of -dismayed silence, Toby Sears managed to arouse the purple-decked seats -to response. But the Clearfield cheering was lacking in conviction just -then! Breen, feeling horribly conspicuous out there in right field, -ground his fist into the palm of his glove and gritted his teeth. -Captain Jones’ voice came back to him cheerfully: - -“Never mind that, Howard! Let’s go after ’em hard now!” - -And go after them hard they did, and when Newton, the subsequent -batsman, slammed the ball into short center Breen was there as soon as -Farrar and could have fielded the ball had not Farrar attended to it. -As it was the batsman was satisfied with one base, although the runner -ahead reached third in safety. - -Tom Haley had begun to warm up back of first base now. That his -services would be required was soon evident, for Nostrand put himself -in a hole with the next batsman and finally watched him walk to first -and fill the bases. Then Dick nodded, Nostrand dropped the ball and -walked out and Clearfield cheered lustily as Tom Haley peeled off -his sweater. Going into the box with the bases full, even when there -are two out, isn’t a thing to rejoice and be merry over, but, as -Fudge confided to Perry just then, Tom Haley had been put together -without nerves. Tom sped some fast and rather wild ones in the general -direction of Lanny while the Springdale shortstop leaned on his bat and -watched satirically, and the Blue’s supporters expressed derision. But -none of the Clearfield fellows were worried by Tom’s apparent wildness. -Tom always did that when he went as a relief pitcher. And then he -usually tied the batsman in knots! - -Tom did that very thing now. He landed the first ball squarely across -the center of the plate. He put the next one shoulder-high across the -inner corner, and he wasted two more in trying to coax the batter to -reach out. Then, finding that the blue-stockinged one would not oblige -him, he curved his fingers cunningly about the ball and shot it away -and, without waiting, swung on his heel and walked out of the box and -across the diamond, while Clearfield applauded hysterically and a -disgruntled Springdale shortstop tossed his bat down and turned toward -the field wondering if he had really hit as much too soon as it had -seemed to him! - -The Purple went out in order in their half and the seventh inning, -which Clearfield, according to time-honored custom, hailed as the -“lucky seventh” and stood up for, passed into history without adding -further tallies to the score of either team. Springdale went after -the game savagely and succeeded in connecting with Haley’s offers so -frequently that the Clearfield supporters sat on the edges of their -seats and writhed anxiously. But, although the Blue’s batsmen hit -the ball, they failed to “put it where they ain’t,” and sharp, clean -fielding did the rest. For her part, the Purple did no better. One long -fly to deep left looked good for a moment, but the nimble-footed player -out there got under it without any trouble. No one reached first in -either half of the “lucky seventh” and the game went into the eighth -with the score still 2 to 2. - -When the first man had been thrown out, Haley to Merrick, Haley let -down a mite and the Springdale right-fielder smashed out a two-bagger -that sailed high over Bryan’s head and rolled far into the outfield. -After that Haley tightened up again and struck out the next candidate, -and the half was over a few minutes later when the runner was caught -flat-footed off second by a rattling throw-down by Lanny which Bryan -took on the run. - -Merrick was first up in the last half of the inning and, obeying -instructions, hit desperately at the first ball pitched, missed it to -the glee of the Springdale “rooters” and staggered back out of the box. -The next delivery was low and wide. The next one, too, was a ball. Then -came a slow drop, and Gordon, sizing it up nicely, stepped forward and -laid his bat gently against it. It wasn’t an ideal ball to bunt, but -Gordon managed to get his bat a bit over it and at the same moment -start for first. The ball trickled but a scant six feet to the left of -base, but the catcher overran it slightly and threw low to first and -Gordon was safe. - -Scott tried hard to sacrifice with a bunt, but Newton kept them almost -shoulder-high and before he knew it Scott was in the hole. With the -score two and one Newton could afford to waste one, and after he had -tried the patience of the crowd by repeated efforts to catch Gordon -napping at first, he sent in a slow ball that Scott refused. Then, -since the batsman had two strikes on him and would naturally not risk -an attempt to bunt, Newton tried to end the agony by sending a straight -ball waist-high over the outer corner of the plate. Whereupon Scott did -exactly what he’d been told to do and laid the ball down very neatly -halfway between plate and box and streaked to first. He almost made it, -too, but a quick turn and throw by Newton beat him by a foot. Gordon, -however, was safely on second, and Clearfield rejoiced loudly. - -Cotner continued the bunting game, but although he advanced Gordon to -third his bunt went straight to the waiting third-baseman, who had been -playing well in, and he made the second out. Warner Jones got a fine -round of applause as he stepped to the bat and there were cries of -“Give us a home-run, Cap!” “Knock the cover off it!” “Here’s where we -score!” At third-base Gordon ran back and forth along the path and the -coach shouted vociferously, but Newton refused to get rattled. Instead, -to the deep disgust of the Clearfield adherents, he pitched four wide -balls and Warner, tossing aside his bat, walked resentfully to first. -Clearfield loudly censured the pitcher, impolitely intimating that he -was afraid, but Newton only smiled and gave his attention to Lanny. -Four more pitch-outs and Lanny, too, walked, filling the bases and -eliciting derisive and disappointed howls from the Purple. - -Breen was next at bat and, since in spite of being a left-hander, he had -so far failed to solve the Springdale pitcher, the audience expected that -Dick would pull him out and substitute a pinch-hitter――probably McCoy or -Lewis. But, after a momentary stir at the bench and a quick consultation -between Dick and Haley, Breen advanced to the plate, bat in hand. Knowing -ones in the stands shook their heads and grumbled, and Fudge emphatically -condemned proceedings and became very pessimistic. Perry, daring to hint -that perhaps, after all, Dick Lovering had some good reason for allowing -Breen to bat, was silenced by exactly four perfectly good arguments -against such a possibility. By which time Howard Breen had a ball and a -strike on him, the coachers were jumping and shrieking and the purple -flags were waving madly while several hundred voices roared out a bedlam -of sound. For it was now or never, in the belief of most, and a safe hit -was needed very, very badly! - -Breen faced Fortune calmly. Perhaps that misjudgment in right-field――it -couldn’t be scored as an error, but that didn’t take any of the sting -out of it for Howard――had put him on his mettle and endowed him with a -desperate determination to make atonement. And possibly Dick Lovering -was counting on that very thing. At all events Breen came through! With -one strike and two balls against him, Breen picked out a wide curve -and got it on the middle of his bat. It was a lucky hit, but it did -the business. It started over Newton’s head, went up and up, curved -toward the foul-line and finally landed just out of reach of first- and -second-basemen a foot inside the white mark! - -And when second-baseman scooped it up Breen was racing across the bag, -Gordon had tallied and Warner Jones was just sliding into the plate. - -For the succeeding three minutes pandemonium reigned. Purple banners -whipped the air, new straw hats were subjected to outrageous treatment -and caps sailed gloriously into space. At first-base Bryan was hugging -Breen ecstatically and midway between the plate and the pitcher’s box -a half-dozen Springdale players were holding a rueful conference. When -comparative quiet had returned, and after Fudge had saved his face by -carefully explaining that Breen’s hit had been the luckiest fluke that -he, Fudge, had ever witnessed in a long and eventful life, the game -went on. - -Newton for the first time showed nerves. Haley, who was only an average -batter at the best, was sent to first after five deliveries. The -Clearfield cheering, momentarily stilled, broke forth with renewed -vehemence. It was Bryan’s turn at bat. Bryan stood disdainfully inert -while two bad ones passed him, and then Springdale’s relief pitcher, -who had been warming up off and on for the last four innings, took the -helm and Newton, who had pitched a remarkable game up to the eighth -inning, retired to the bench. - -The new twirler, Crowell, was a right-hander and was regarded as -slightly better than Newton. He took his time about starting to work, -but when he finally began he finished the performance neatly enough, -causing Bryan to swing at two very poor offerings and then sneaking a -fast one over for the third strike. - -Springdale ought to have realized then and there that she was beaten. -Everyone else did, and there ensued the beginning of an exodus from the -stands. But those who were on their way out three minutes after the -ninth inning began either scuttled back to their seats or sought places -along the side of the field. - -The new pitcher had done the unexpected. Far out in the field Farrar -and Cotner were chasing back after the rolling ball. Crowell had -landed squarely on Haley’s first pitch and driven it whizzing past the -surprised Captain Jones for three bases! Tom Haley looked about as -astounded as he ever allowed himself to look as he walked to the box -after backing up Lanny. With none out and a runner on third, victory -looked less certain for the Purple. Springdale’s “rooters” yelled -wildly and triumphantly and Springdale’s coachers leaped about like -insane acrobats and volleyed all sorts of advice to the lone runner, -most of it intended for the pitcher’s ears. - -“It’s a cinch, Johnny! You can walk home in a minute! He’s up in the -air like a kite! There’s nothing to it, old man, there’s nothing to it! -Here’s where we roll ’em up! Watch us score! Hi! Hi! Look at that for a -rotten pitch! His arm’s broken in two places! Just tap it, Hughie, just -tap it! He’s all gone now, old man! He hasn’t a thing but his glove! -Come on now! Let’s have it! Right down the alley, Hughie! Pick your -place and let her go!” - -But Hughie struck out, in spite of all the advice and encouragement -supplied him, also the next man up, and Clearfield began to breathe a -bit easier. But the trouble was by no means over, for an inshoot -landed against the ribs of the next batsman and he ambled to first, -solicitously rubbing his side and grinning at Tom Haley. - -“Sorry,” called Tom. - -“I’ll bet you are!” was the response. - -Springdale’s center-fielder, second man on her batting list, waited -until the runner on first had taken second unchallenged and then lifted -a fly to Breen. The latter got it without altering his position and -pegged to the plate, but Crowell beat out the throw by a yard and the -score was 4 to 3. On the throw-in the batsman went to second and with -two out and two on bases the infield spread out again. There was some -delay while Springdale selected a pinch-hitter, and then, when he had -rubbed his hands in the dirt, rubbed the dirt off on his trousers, -gripped his bat and fixed his feet firmly to earth, all with the grim, -determined air of an eleventh-hour hero, Lanny stepped to one side of -the plate and Tom Haley tossed him four wide ones! - -It was the Blue’s turn to howl derisively and the Blue did it. And the -Purple shouted derisively back. So much, you see, depends on the point -of view! The bases were filled now and a hit would not only tie the -score but add a second tally to Springdale’s column. But neither Lanny -nor Haley appeared worried, not even when the next batsman appeared in -the person of the Blue’s captain and third-baseman. Still, Tom worked a -bit more deliberately than usual, studied Lanny’s signals thoughtfully, -seemed bent on consuming as much time as possible. The Blue’s captain -swayed his bat back and forth and strove to restrain his impatience, -but that he was impatient was proved when Tom’s first delivery, a ball -that Lanny picked almost out of the dirt, fooled him into offering at -it. Clearfield shouted joyfully as the bat swept harmlessly above the -ball and the men on bases scuttled back. The batsman grew cautious -then and let the next two deliveries pass unheeded, guessing them -correctly. The noise which had been for some minutes loud and unceasing -dwindled to silence as Tom nodded a reply to Lanny’s signal, wound up -and lurched forward. The Springdale captain expected a good one and -recognized it when he saw it. Bat and ball met sharply and he raced -down the first base path. - -Cries filled the air, the bases emptied. The ball, smashed directly at -Tom Haley, bounded out of his glove and rolled back toward the third -base line. Tom, momentarily confused, sprang after it, scooped it up -from almost under the feet of the speeding runner from third and, -without a moment’s indecision, hurled it to Lanny. And Lanny, dropping -to his knees on the plate, got it a foot from the ground just as the -spiked shoes of the runner shot into him. Catcher and runner, blue -stockings and purple, became confusedly mixed up for a moment, and then -Clearfield, seeing the umpire’s arm swing backward over his shoulder, -burst into triumph and flowed onto the field! - -[Illustration: “Lanny, dropping to his knees on the plate, got it a -foot from the ground”] - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - -CLEARFIELD CONCEDES THE MEET - - -But Clearfield paid dearly for that victory. - -Late Sunday afternoon four dejected youths sat in the library at Guy -Felker’s house and waited for the report of Skeet Presser, who had -just joined them. Skeet, having stuffed his cloth cap into his pocket, -seated himself and smiled about him, but the smile was a dispirited -effort. - -“Did you see him?” asked Guy. - -“Yes, I saw him. Just came from there. He’s in bad shape, Cap. He’s -got two cuts just above his left knee as long as my finger and pretty -nearly to the bone. Ugly wounds they are, the doctor says. I didn’t see -them. He’s all bandaged up. Anyway, he’s out of it, Guy.” - -There was a moment’s silence. Then: - -“Can’t run at all, you think?” - -“Run! Great Cæsar’s Ghost, how could any fellow run with a knee like -that? He’ll be lucky if he’s able to catch two weeks from now, I -guess.” - -“Catch!” said Guy bitterly. “Confound his catching! If he hadn’t -insisted on doing that he wouldn’t have been hurt. It’s a nice outlook -for the Track Team, isn’t it? We’ve got about as much chance to win -Saturday as we have of going skating!” - -The coach nodded. “That’s right,” he agreed. “Lanny was good for -thirteen points anyway. Well, I don’t know. Only thing we can do now is -make the best showing possible and――――” - -“We’re not beaten yet,” said Harry Partridge. “Kirke’s nearly as fast -as Lanny in the sprints, isn’t he?” - -“Nearly, yes,” replied Skeet. “But that’s not good enough. Springdale’s -got fellows nearly as fast, too. For that matter, that youngster -Hull has been doing some fast work. We may win a first in one of the -sprints; I’m not saying we can’t. It’s the hurdles that worry me most. -Lanny was down for both and he’d have run them both if we’d needed him. -With Lanny out we’ve got only Beaton here and Peyton. I’m not throwing -off on you, Beaton, but you’ll have to dig to beat out Springdale’s -best man.” - -“I know,” answered the manager, “but, look here, Skeet, if we can -win one first in the sprints and get, say, six points out of the -hurdles――――” - -“Oh, don’t be an ass, Arthur,” interrupted Guy crossly. “You can -figure until you get writer’s cramp, but that doesn’t alter the fact -that we’re dished. As Skeet says, the only thing we can do is to make -Springdale work hard for the meet. It’s perfectly rotten luck!” - -There was another brief silence. Then Toby Sears asked: “How did Lanny -get hurt, anyway? I didn’t see it. I was so excited――――” - -“Blocked off that runner of theirs at the plate. Someone hit a fierce -liner at Haley and he knocked it down and it rolled over toward third -base line. When he got it it was too late to peg to first and he -chucked it to Lanny about a half-second before the runner got there. -Lanny dropped to the plate and the runner slid feet-first into him and -his spikes ripped right across Lanny’s knee. It was a mighty pretty -piece of blocking, but he ought never to have taken such a chance.” And -Partridge shook his head dismally. - -“It wouldn’t have hurt anything if they’d taken that old game,” said -Guy bitterly. “They had two more to play.” - -“Seems to me,” said Sears, “it would be a good plan to keep quiet about -Lanny’s trouble. There’s no use in letting Springdale know he can’t -run, is there?” - -“I don’t see that it matters much whether they know or don’t know,” -said Guy. “They’ll find it out Saturday.” - -“No, Sears is right,” said Skeet thoughtfully. “We’ll keep it dark. -It may disarrange their plans if they find at the last moment that he -isn’t entered. Did their ball-players know he was hurt badly?” - -“No,” answered Beaton, “I don’t think so. Lanny walked to the bench -pretty well. A lot of fellows were with him and I don’t believe -Springdale noticed anything.” - -“Then we’ll say nothing about it,” said Skeet. “The doctor told me he’d -be around in a couple of days and Lanny says he’ll come out and do all -he can for us in the way of coaching. I’m going to get him to take the -hurdlers in hand.” - -“How does Lanny take it?” asked Harry Partridge. - -“Not very well just yet. Rather broken-up about it. He told me he would -rather have won the sprints than played ball. I wish he’d thought of -that before. Still, I don’t suppose we can expect the ball team to give -up the only first-class catcher they’ve got to oblige us.” - -“Maybe,” observed Toby Sears, “it’s a waste of time, fellows, but -let’s go over the list again and see if we can figure out a win.” - -“Figure all you like,” said the coach as he got up. “I’ve got to be -going, fellows. But when you’re through figuring just remember that -no meet was ever won with a lead pencil. If you want to win Saturday -just make up your minds that you’re going to go out there and do about -twenty per cent. better than you ever have done. That’s the only way -you’ll win. See you later.” - -So well was the secret of Lanny’s injury kept that few knew of it until -his appearance at the field on Tuesday. It had been known that Lanny -had been spiked in blocking the plate, but it was not supposed that he -had been seriously hurt, and the sight of him swinging a stiff left -leg about with the aid of a crutch came as a big surprise. Even then, -however, Lanny laughingly denied that he was badly injured. “Just a -couple of scratches,” he said, “but they make my leg sort of stiff -while they’re healing. And I don’t want to take any chances, you know.” - -That sounded all right, but by Thursday the truth somehow got out -and the school in general, by this time quite enthusiastic over the -dual meet, discussed it with dismay and disappointment. With Lanny -out of the meet Clearfield had, they decided, absolutely no chance -of victory, and fellows who had intended to remain at home and view -Springdale’s defeat on cinders and turf now decided to accompany the -baseball team on Saturday. “No good staying around here and seeing -Springdale lick the stuffing out of us. Let’s go over there and root -for the Nine.” - -Fudge was one who predicted overwhelming defeat for the Purple. -He figured it out for Mr. Addicks and Perry one day and proved -conclusively that the best possible score for Clearfield was thirty-two -points. “And that,” explained Fudge, “means that we’ll have to get -eight points in the hammer-throw.” - -“Maybe,” said Perry, “we’ll make a better showing than we expect, -Fudge. Mander almost equaled Felker’s record at the pole-vault -yesterday.” - -“That’s all right,” replied Fudge firmly. “I’ve allowed us six points -in the pole-vault. We’re going to get licked good and hard. I’m sorry -for Guy Felker, too. He’s worked pretty hard ever since last year. -Remember how he got fellows out in the fall and made them work? -Everyone laughed at him then, but if it wasn’t for Lanny getting hurt -Guy would have shown them something. We’d have won easily if the meet -had been last Saturday instead of next.” - -“I’ve seen it happen more than once,” observed Mr. Addicks, “that a -team with a heavy handicap has gone in and won. Seems like knowing -you’ve _got_ to work helps a heap sometimes. Don’t give in yet, Fudge.” - -The last work for the Track Team came Thursday. There had been -time-trials for the runners Monday and some pretty strenuous work for -all hands on Wednesday, but Thursday’s practice was little more than a -warming up. Mr. Addicks, however, wasn’t in favor of letting down too -soon, and on Friday morning Perry was out on the track as usual and was -put through his paces quite as vigorously as on any other morning. On -Friday afternoon the track men went for a short run across country and -that ended the season’s work. - -While Clearfield still looked for a defeat on the morrow, it no longer -conceded the meet to Springdale by any overwhelming majority of points, -and there were others beside Arthur Beaton who even dared hope for a -victory by a narrow margin. Captain Felker, however, was not one of -these. Guy faced the inevitable grimly, determined to at least make a -good showing. Lanny worked hard with the coaching and under his tuition -the two hurdlers, Beaton and Peyton, showed improvement by Thursday. So -far no inkling had reached Springdale of Lanny’s trouble and his name -had been included in the list of Clearfield entrants which was sent -to Springdale three days before the meet. Springdale’s list included -thirty-one names and she had entered at least four fellows in each -event. For the sprints and hurdles the number was six. Guy shook his -head dismally over that list. - -Saturday morning Perry slept late for the first time in many days, and -after breakfast went over to Mr. Addicks’ rooms and listened to final -instructions. He was a little bit jumpy to-day. When Mr. Addicks had -delivered the last of his advice he suggested that Perry accompany him -across the river and watch him work. “The walk will do you good,” he -said. “If you get bored you can come back whenever you like.” - -Fudge came in before they got started and went along. Fudge was about -as nervous as a block of wood. He was very full of the impending affair -but quite untroubled. The only thing that seemed to really matter to -Fudge was his chance of beating Falkland in the hammer-throw. Whether -he out-tossed the Springdale fellows apparently failed to bother him. -The boys remained with Mr. Addicks until the middle of the morning, -and then, extracting a promise from him that he would attend the -meet, they returned across the river and, a little later, witnessed -the departure of the ball team for Springdale, doing their share of -the cheering as the special trolley-car moved away from the Square. -After all, only a small number of fellows accompanied the Nine, most of -them, for one reason or another, deciding to stand by the Track Team. -Dinner was early to-day and Perry was far from hungry. But Fudge, who -had accepted Mrs. Hull’s invitation, did full justice to the viands, as -observed wonderingly and rather enviously by his host. - -The program was to start at two-thirty and long before that the two -boys were dressed and waiting. The day was fair and hot, unseasonably -hot for so early in June. By a little after two the stands were already -well sprinkled with spectators. The Springdale team was late in -arriving and it was almost twenty minutes to three when the entrants -in the hundred-yards-dash were summoned to the starting line. Perry, -who had been restlessly circulating about the field for a half-hour, -followed the others with his heart thumping uncomfortably. It suddenly -occurred to him that he was about to take part in his first real race, -and that his effort was to be witnessed by nearly a thousand persons. -He looked across the field and down it to the crowded stands, where -purple and blue pennants made spots of color in the hot sunlight, and -for a moment wished himself far away. Then the names were being called -for the first heat and he forgot the watchers. To his relief, he was -not summoned. Neither was Lanny. Kirke and Soper were on the track with -three Springdale runners when the whistle was blown. There was a minute -of silence. Then the starter’s voice sounded crisply. - -“Ready!... Set!...” - -The pistol barked. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - -SPRINGDALE LEADS - - -“_Go it, Kirke!_” - -Perry turned to find Lanny at his elbow, Lanny enveloped in a brown -bath-robe and minus his crutch. Then the shouts of the crowd at the -finish drew Perry’s gaze down the track again as the flying figures -crossed the line. From back there it was hard to say who had been -placed, but presently, as the sprinters returned, Lanny hurried stiffly -to meet Kirke. - -“All right, Orson?” called Lanny. Kirke shook his head, smiling and -panting. - -“I’m out,” he answered. “Soper’s placed, though. I was fourth.” - -“Hard luck,” said Lanny. “You’ll make it in the two-twenty, though.” He -returned to where Perry was standing. “Funny that Kirke let Soper beat -him,” he said. “He’s been finishing ahead of Soper right along, hasn’t -he?” - -“Yes, but I think Kirke’s better in the two-twenty. Are you going to -run, Lanny?” - -Lanny pursed his mouth grimly. “I don’t believe it will be running, but -I’m going to start just for fun.” - -“But won’t it hurt your leg?” asked Perry anxiously. - -“Doc says so, but he’s an old granny. I won’t be able to finish, I -guess, but I hate not to have a shot at it.” - -“Griner!” called the Clerk of the Course. “Stratton! Stratton?” - -“Withdrawn,” someone answered. The Clerk’s pencil went through the name. - -“White?” - -“Here,” replied Lanny as he took his place. - -“Powers?” - -“All right, sir.” - -“Hill?” - -“That should be Hull, sir,” said Lanny. - -“Hull?” - -“Here, sir,” replied Perry, joining the others. - -“That’s all, then, Mr. Starter. Only four.” - -“Are you all ready, boys?” asked the starter. “On your marks! Hold -on there, Number 7! Don’t try that or you’ll get set back. On your -marks!... Set!...” - -The pistol banged and the four jumped away. Perry, on the outer side -of the straightaway, was in his stride the first of the three and, -halfway down the track, shot a side-long look at the others. Lanny was -not in sight, but the nearer Springdale youth was a yard or so behind -and the further one running about even. As the first three were to be -placed, Perry slowed up and took it easy, finishing a close third. Half -way down the track Lanny was being helped over the strings to the turf. -Perry, turning back, heard a timer say laughingly: “Fast time, Jim; ten -and four-fifths!” Lanny was seated on the turf ruefully holding his -injured knee when Perry reached him. - -“I’m sorry, Lanny,” he said. “Did you fall?” - -“No, I just found I couldn’t do it, Perry. How’s the track?” - -“Fine! Say, I wish Kirke had got placed. They’ve got four to our two in -the final.” - -“Never mind, you or Soper will get a first. Those chaps aren’t fast. -Give me a pull up, will you?” - -Perry got back into his dressing-gown and joined the throng across -the field, at the finish of the 440-yards. Sears, Todd and Cranston -lined up for the Purple in the quarter-mile and Springdale placed five -runners at the mark, amongst them Davis, the Blue’s captain. It was -Davis who took the lead at the end of the first hundred yards and, -although hard-pressed by Toby Sears and a second Springdale runner, -kept it to the tape. At the turn Davis was two yards to the good and -Sears was leading the third man by a scant two feet. Todd was in fifth -place and the other Clearfield entrant in seventh. At the beginning -of the stretch Sears gained half the distance separating him from -Davis, and until well down the track it looked as if he might get the -lead. Davis, however, had plenty of reserve and forty yards from the -finish it was evident that Sears had shot his bolt. Davis finished -first by three yards and a second Springdale runner ousted Sears from -second place almost at the tape. Springdale had made a good start with -eight points to Clearfield’s one, and the Blue’s adherents cheered -approvingly. - -The high hurdles followed and again Springdale triumphed, getting -first and third place. Beaton finished second but was disqualified for -upsetting too many hurdles, and Peyton got the honor. The time was -eighteen seconds flat and bettered the dual meet record by a fifth of a -second. - -In the final of the 100-yards dash Perry and Soper were opposed to four -wearers of the blue. Perry, digging his holes, tried to recall all -the good advice Mr. Addicks had given him, but couldn’t remember much -of anything. His heart was beating very fast, and he was as nearly -frightened as he had been for a long time. He looked over at Soper, -who had drawn the inside lane, and saw that even that more experienced -runner was plainly nervous. Then the starter’s voice came and Perry -settled his toes in the holes, crouched and waited. - -“Set!” - -Some over-anxious Springdale sprinter leaped away and it had all to -be gone through with again. But at last the pistol sounded and Perry, -without knowing just how he had got there, found himself well down -the track, his legs flying, his arms pumping up and forward and down -and back, his lungs working like a pair of bellows and the cries and -exhortations of the spectators in his ears. A youth with blue stripes -down the seams of his fluttering trunks was a good yard in the lead and -Perry, with three others, next. Someone, and Perry silently hoped it -wasn’t Soper, was no longer in sight. Perry put the last gasp of breath -and last ounce of strength into the final twenty yards in a desperate -effort to overtake that Springdale runner, but it wasn’t until they -were almost at the tape that he knew he had gone ahead, and then, as he -threw his arms up, a third white-clad figure flashed past! - -A half-minute later Perry learned that Soper had won and that he had -finished in second place by a scant two feet. Soper’s time was ten and -a fifth. Perry had feared that the form which had flashed to the front -at the tape had been that of a Springdale runner and was so relieved -that it didn’t occur to him until some time later to either regret that -he had not finished in first place or congratulate himself on capturing -second. But Guy Felker, after hugging Soper, almost wrung Perry’s hand -off. - -“That was bully!” he repeated over and over. “That was bully! We get -eight out of it and didn’t count on more than four! You’re all right, -Hull! Better rest up now, boy. Remember the two-twenty’s coming. Hello, -Lanny! What do you say to that? Wasn’t it bully?” - -Perry received Lanny’s praise and, rather embarrassed, went back for -his robe. He wondered if Mr. Addicks had seen him, and he tried to -catch sight of that gentleman in the audience. But half the folks were -still standing on their feet and shouting and it was no use. He wished -Mr. Addicks might have been down here on the field to-day. As he passed -the blackboard a boy was writing the new figures down. - -“Clearfield, 12; Springdale, 15,” was the announcement. - -He tried to figure out how that could be, but was far too excited. When -he had wrapped his robe around him he went back to the dressing-room -for a rub, crossing the track just ahead of the half-milers who were -coming around the turn. He stopped and watched them pass. Todd was -running in third place, hugging the rim closely, and Lasker was on -his heels. Train was one of a bunch of four who trailed a couple of -yards back. Springdale had entered five men to Clearfield’s three. -Perry missed the finish of the half-mile, but Beaton brought the news -into the dressing-room presently. Only Lasker had been placed, winning -second. Linn of Springdale had finished first by nearly thirty yards in -two minutes, eight and two-fifths seconds. Todd had been in the lead -for the whole of the third lap but hadn’t been able to keep it. He and -Train had been a half-lap behind at the end. - -“What’s the score now, Arthur?” asked someone. - -Beaton shook his head wryly. “Springdale’s about twenty-one, I think, -to our fifteen. We’ve got to begin and do something pretty soon. Guy’s -got first in the high-jump cinched, though. They’re almost through.” - -“How’s the shot-put getting on?” Perry asked. - -“Not finished yet,” replied Beaton. “I guess they’ve got it, though.” -He hurried out in response to imperative requests for low hurdlers, -and Perry followed presently. The 220-yards-hurdle trials had brought -out seven entrants and so two preliminary dashes were necessary. -Fortunately, perhaps, the two Clearfield candidates, Beaton and Peyton, -were not drawn for the same trial. As a result Peyton easily won in his -event from three Springdale fellows and Arthur Beaton finished second -without hurrying in the next trial. Then the hurdles were quickly -lifted aside and the milers began to assemble at the starting point. - -Springdale had been conceded this event two weeks ago, but in his -last time-trial Smith, of Clearfield, had gone over the course in the -commendable time of five minutes and six and two-fifths seconds and the -Purple was entertaining a secret hope that Smith might somehow prove -too good for the Blue’s crack runner. Eight fellows started, three for -Clearfield and five for Springdale. The policy of the latter school was -evidently to start as many fellows in each event as possible on the -chance of displacing a Clearfield entrant. In the present case it was -speedily apparent that at least two of Springdale’s milers were not -expected to finish. - -At the end of the first of the four laps the race had settled into two -divisions――Smith, Toll and Tupper, wearers of the purple C, running -well ahead with an equal number of Springdale fellows, and the other -two of the Blue’s force lagging a hundred yards behind. Wallace, the -Springdale hope, was allowing one of his teammates to set the pace and -was right on his heels. Two feet behind him trotted Smith, followed -by Tupper, a third Springdale runner, and Toll. The six were hugging -the rim and watching each other craftily. In that order they passed -around the first turn. Then Toll began to go ahead and the challenge -was accepted by the third Springdale man. Toll finally ran even with -Wallace in the backstretch and on the next turn dropped into the lead. - -The half-distance found daylight between Wallace and Smith, and the -former pace-maker fell back into fourth place. At the turn Toll began -to hit it up. Wallace sped close behind him. Smith came next, some -four yards back. Strung out behind Smith were a second blue runner, -Tupper, and, dropping back every moment, the last Springdale runner. In -that order they came down the straightaway, passed the mark and went -doggedly on, to the ringing of the gong announcing the last lap. The -stands were shouting confusedly. The leaders passed the two lagging -Springdale runners before the turn was begun. As Toll led the way into -the backstretch it was evident that he was about done for and a rod or -two further along Smith fairly leaped into the lead, taking Wallace by -surprise. But the three or four yards which he gained were quickly cut -down. Tupper closed in on Wallace but could not pass him, and as the -next turn was reached began to fall back. - -Smith, with Wallace close on his heels, entered the straightaway, -running desperately. Behind him, some ten yards back, came a second -Springdale man, and, twenty yards or so behind him, Tupper and a third -wearer of the blue were fighting it out. For a moment it seemed that -Smith might win, but fifty yards from the tape Wallace uncorked a -sprint that swept him past Smith and well into the lead, while the next -Springdale runner, head back, challenged Smith for second place and -slowly closed up the distance between them. Wallace crossed a good six -yards ahead and Smith, running now on pure nerve, saw the second blue -adversary edge past him a few feet from the line. - -Smith staggered as he crossed and fell limply into the outstretched -arms of Skeet. Tupper finished fourth, almost as exhausted, and the -others trailed in one by one. The pace had been a fast one, the -winner’s time being caught at five minutes, five and one-fifth seconds, -and Smith, finishing third, had run the distance well under his best -record. - -By that time the result of the high-jump was being announced, and -Clearfield had won first place and halved third. Felker had cleared -the bar at five feet and six inches, a Springdale jumper had secured -second place with five feet and five and a half inches and Todd had -tied with a Springdale fellow at five-feet-four. A moment later the -figures showing the score were changed again. With just half the events -decided, Clearfield had 21½ points and Springdale 32½. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI - -THE PURPLE PENNANT - - -It was getting well along toward five o’clock and the sun was sending -slanting rays down Brent Field. The two-twenty-dash trials had been -run and the final in the low hurdles was just over. In the former -Perry, Kirke and Soper had all won places and in the latter Beaton and -Peyton had finished first and second and added eight more points to the -Clearfield score. The broad-jump and shot-put, too, were over and the -Blue had won first and third places in the former and first place in -the latter. Partridge had been a good second in the weight event and -Brimmer a poor third. In the broad-jump Toby Sears had captured three -points. Only the pole-vault, the two-twenty-dash and the hammer-throw -remained and the score stood: Clearfield, 36½; Springdale, 44½. - -A moment ago the result of the ball game at Springdale had come over -the wire and had been announced, and Clearfield was feeling somewhat -dejected. Springdale had won, 8 to 2. That and the dismal outlook here -at the field had caused the purple banners to droop on their staffs. -But there was one purple flag that still flaunted itself bravely in the -lengthening rays of sunlight. It hung from the railing of the stand on -the third base side of the field, a handsome pennant of royal purple -with a wreath of green laurel leaves on it enclosing the letters “C. H. -S.” Behind it sat Louise Brent and a bevy of her companions. The girls -were in a quandary. Already several Track Team heroes were tied in the -number of points gained by them and the task of awarding the pennant -promised to be an extremely difficult one. If Guy Felker won the -pole-vault, which was possible at the present stage, the matter would -be simplified, for he would then have ten points to his credit, two -more than anyone else. The girls discussed the difficulty and referred -again and again to the score that Louise was keeping, but without -finding a way out of the quandary. - -“There’s just one thing to do,” said Dick Lovering’s sister, Grace, -finally. “It was understood that the pennant was to go to the boy doing -the most for the school, wasn’t it?” - -The others assented doubtfully. “I suppose that was what was meant,” -said Louise, “but I thought we could give it to someone who had made -more points than anyone else and that it would be all quite simple. But -with three and maybe four fellows making eight――――” - -“That’s just it,” said Grace. “We can’t ask them to toss up for it or -draw lots, can we? So the best thing to do is to decide after it’s all -over which of them really did the best.” - -“But how can we decide that?” asked May Burnham. “How are we to know -which did the best?” - -“We can,” replied Grace convincedly. “Guy and the others will know if -we don’t.” - -“Guy will have ten points himself if he wins the pole-vault,” said -Louise. “That would make it very simple.” - -“I don’t believe he’s going to,” said another girl. “He’s just missed -that try, and I think that long-legged Springdale boy did it a minute -ago.” - -“Oh, dear, if he doesn’t!” exclaimed Louise hopelessly. “There, he’s -gone and missed it again! No, he hasn’t! He hasn’t! He went over! Oh, -_do_ you think that makes him win?” - -Evidently it didn’t, for while Guy was being congratulated by those -around the vaulting standard the bar was again raised and a boy with -a megaphone announced: “The bar is now at ten feet one and one-half -inches!” - -But interest was drawn from the prolonged struggle there to the -track. At the beginning of the straightaway they were gathering the -contestants in the final of the two-hundred-and-twenty-yards-dash, the -last of the track events. Clearfield and Springdale had each placed -three men in the trials. For Clearfield these were Perry Hull, Kirke -and Soper; for Springdale, Knight, Lawrence and Gedge. The trials -had been done in twenty-four and three-fifths and twenty-four and -four-fifths, rather slow time, but the final promised to show faster -performances. It was figured that if Captain Felker could win five -points in the pole-vault and the Purple’s sprinters could capture first -and second places in the two-twenty, Clearfield might after all squeeze -out a victory, for Partridge was counted on to have a very good chance -to get the best there was in the hammer-throw, which had been going -on for some time in the field across the way. But it was necessary to -get eight points in the sprint, as it was reckoned, and there were few -who dared hope for such a result. Kirke, it was generally conceded, -might possibly win first place, but there were two good runners in the -Springdale trio who would certainly make a showing. - -Perry drew the fourth lane, with Lawrence of Springdale on his left -and Orson Kirke on his right. Kirke looked grimly determined and -Perry was pretty sure that he meant to win. And, thought Perry, since -he had failed in the hundred he really deserved to. But Perry was not -yet conceding the race. He had made mistakes in his first race. He had -realized it afterwards. Now he meant to profit by what he had learned. -He wasn’t so frightened this time, either. He had been through the fire. - -The crowd about the start drew back to the turf and a whistle shrilled. -Down at the finish a handkerchief waved response. The six boys stopped -prancing and settled to their places. The starter stepped back. - -“On your marks!” - -Perry, settling his toes into the cinders, heard the click of the -pistol hammer as it was drawn back. There was a sudden silence. - -“Set!” - -An instant’s pause and then the pistol spoke sharply and the race was -on. Six lithe, white-clad forms launched themselves forward, twelve -arms beat the air and twelve legs twinkled. Three of the six had drawn -ahead in the first lunge, Perry and Kirke amongst them. Twenty yards -away the field was already strung out. Kirke, running terrifically, was -a yard to the good. Perry and Lawrence were next. Soper was a yard or -so behind them. But that order changed again in the next few seconds. -Perry was breasting Kirke then and Lawrence was almost even with them. -Soper was making bad going and falling back. The shouts of the crowd in -the stands and around the finish made a crashing bedlam of sound that -drowned completely the quick _scrunch-scrunch_ of the runners’ shoes -and their hoarse breathing. - -Now it was half-distance, and Perry saw the white figure at his right -fall back and felt rather than saw another form crawling up and up on -the other side near the rim. Lawrence held on, too, and fifty yards -from the finish Perry, Lawrence and Gedge were neck-and-neck, with -Kirke a single pace behind. Soper and Knight were already beaten. Then -Gedge forged ahead and the wild shouts of the Springdale contingent -took on new vigor. Cries of “_Clearfield! Clearfield!_” “_Springdale! -Springdale!_” filled the air. Dimly, Perry heard his own name over and -over. - -Now the slim white thread was rushing up the track toward him. He had -no sense of moving himself, although his lungs were aching and his arms -swung back and forth and his legs, suddenly weighted with lead, still -spurned the track. It was as though he, in spite of the painful efforts -he was making, was standing still and the finish line was racing -toward him! For a moment he wondered about Kirke, but for a moment -only. The tape was but twenty yards away now and it was time for the -last supreme endeavor. - -Gedge was two paces in front when Perry started his final rush. In ten -yards he was level. In five more he was back with Lawrence. Like a -white streak Perry breasted the string, his arms thrown up, his head -back, and after him came Gedge and Lawrence, Kirke, Knight and Soper. - -Once over the line, Perry staggered, recovered and then fell, rolling -limply across the cinders. A dozen eager boys rushed to his assistance -and he was lifted and borne to the turf where, a moment later, he found -his breath. - -“Kirke?” he whispered. - -“No,” was the answer. “They got second and third. You broke the dual -record, Hull; twenty-three and four-fifths!” - -Perry considered that an instant in silence. Then: “We lose the meet, -though, don’t we?” - -His informant nodded. “Suppose so. There’s still the hammer-throw, but -I guess we’re dished. It isn’t your fault, though. You ran a peach of a -race, Hull!” - -Perry climbed weakly to his feet, with assistance, and found that at -last he could take a long breath again. “I’m sorry about Kirke,” he -said rather vaguely. - -“Are you?” gasped a voice behind him. “So’m I, but glad you won, -Perry!” It was Kirke himself. Perry shook hands with him and then -others pushed around for the same purpose; Lawrence and Gedge of -Springdale, and Arthur Beaton and Toby Sears and several others, and, -finally, Skeet, Skeet with puzzled admiration written large on his thin -face. - -“I never knew you had it in you, Hull!” he declared, wringing Perry’s -hand. “Kid, you made a fine finish! I thought it was all over ten yards -from the tape, and then, bing!――you left him standing! But don’t stay -around here and get stiff. Beat it to the shower!” - -“Wait! What’s the score, please?” - -“Oh, they’re fifty-two and a half to our forty-six and a half. Cap got -first in the pole-vault, but Mander wasn’t placed. They’ve got the -meet, all right, but we made ’em fight for it!” - -“Fifty-two?” repeated Perry, puzzled. “But don’t they have to have more -than fifty-four to win?” - -“Yes, the hammer-throw isn’t finished yet. They’ll get three in that, -anyhow.” - -Perry looked around. The field was already emptying. “I’ll get my -dressing-gown, I guess,” he said. - -“All right, but don’t stand around too long,” said Skeet. “I’m going -over to see them finish the hammer. Better luck next year, Hull.” - -He nodded and joined the throng straggling through the gate. Perry -hurried back up the field and found his dressing-gown and then, -disregarding Skeet’s suggestion, he too followed the crowd to where, on -the lot behind the field, it had spread itself in a half-circle around -the group of hammer-throwers. Perry wedged himself through to where he -could see a little. - -“Hello,” said a voice at his elbow and he looked up into Lanny’s -smiling countenance. “You ran a great race, Perry. I wasn’t needed -to-day after all, was I?” He found Perry’s hand and clasped it warmly. -“Your time bettered the best I ever made in my life. Next year you’ll -have them standing on their heads, or I’m a Dutchman!” - -“Thanks,” murmured Perry. “I guess I wouldn’t have beaten you, Lanny, -if you’d been there. How――how is this coming out? Is there any chance -for us to get the meet?” - -“No, I think not. Partridge did a hundred and thirty-one and eight -inches, I believe, and no one’s come near him. But that big chap of -theirs will get second, I guess. Fudge Shaw is right after him, though. -There’s Springdale’s last try.” - -Perry, standing on tip-toe, saw the hammer go flying off, but couldn’t -see where it landed. - -“The worst he’s done yet,” exclaimed Lanny. “By Jove, I wonder――――” - -There was a sudden stir of excitement about them. “If Shaw can better -his last throw,” a voice nearby said, “we may have a chance yet. But -he’s got to beat a hundred and twenty-four and something!” - -“Is Fudge still in it?” asked Perry wonderingly. Lanny nodded. - -“Yes, he’s been doing well, too. So far he’s only six feet behind the -Springdale chap, I understand. I only got here about five minutes ago. -There’s Guy Felker over there with the pennant the girls gave him.” - -“Oh, did he win it? I’m glad of that. How many points did he make, -Lanny?” - -“Ten; first in the high-jump and pole-vault. Here goes Harry again.” - -Partridge walked into the circle, dragging his hammer, and the -measurer, far out across the field, scuttled for safety, the yellow -tape fluttering behind him. The crowd laughed and then grew silent. -Partridge spun and the weight went hurtling through the air. But the -result failed to equal his best throw. - -“Now comes Fudge,” whispered Lanny. “Gee, but I wish he might beat that -Springdale chap. If we could get second place out of this we’d have the -meet!” - -“Would we?” asked Perry, startled. “I thought――――” - -“Eight points would give us fifty-four and a half,” said Lanny, “and -that would be enough, wouldn’t it? Funny Falkland is out of it. I -thought he was almost as good as Harry.” - -Perry, dodging behind the heads and shoulders in front of him, -saw Fudge throwing off his dressing-gown and step, a rotund but -powerful-looking youth, into the ring. Applause greeted him. Fudge -glanced around and was seen to wink gravely at someone in the throng. -Then he placed the ball of the hammer at the back of the ring, closed -his fingers about the handle and raised his shoulders. Silence fell -once more and anxious faces watched as the hammer came off the ground -and began to swing, slowly at first and then faster and faster above -the whitewashed circle. Fudge’s feet sped around, shifting like a -dancer’s, until he was well toward the front of the ring. Then his -sturdy young body set suddenly, his hands opened and off shot the -flying weight, arching through the air, to come to earth at last far -across the sunlit field. - -The crowd broke and hurried to cluster about the ring, excited voices -speculating eagerly on the distance. Out where the hammer had plowed -into the sod the measurer was stooping with the tape. Then: - -“All right here!” he called. - -A breathless moment followed. Heads bent close above the official as he -tautened his end of the tape over the wooden rim. - -“One hundred,” announced the judge, “and ... twenty ... five feet -and....” - -But what the inches were Perry didn’t hear. A wild shout of rejoicing -arose from the friends of Clearfield. Fudge had won second place and -Clearfield had captured the meet! - -After that all was confusion and noise. Perry suddenly found himself -shaking hands laughingly with Mr. Addicks, although what the latter -said he couldn’t hear. Then his attention was attracted to a commotion -nearby as the crowd pushed and swayed. On the shoulders of excited, -triumphant schoolmates, Fudge, half in and half out of his crimson -robe, was being borne past. He espied Perry and waved to him, and -Perry forced his way through the throng just as Guy Felker reached up -and placed the purple pennant in Fudge’s hand. - -“W-w-w-what’s this?” stammered Fudge. - -“It’s yours, Fudge!” shouted Guy. “You’ve won the meet and you get the -pennant!” - -“B-b-but I d-d-didn’t w-w-win this, d-d-did I?” gasped Fudge. - -“You bet!” - -“W-w-well, but wh-wh-why?” - -“Because we needed three points to win the meet, you old idiot,” -laughed Guy, “and you got them for us!” - -“And,” supplemented a voice that sounded like Curtis Wayland’s, “for -numerous other reasons!” - -And Fudge, borne forward again, waving the purple pennant high in air, -had the grace to blush. - - - * * * * * - - - Transcriber’s Notes: - - ――Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_). - - ――Except for the frontispiece, illustrations have been moved to - follow the text that they illustrate. - - ――Printer’s, punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently - corrected. - - ――Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved. - - ――Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PURPLE PENNANT *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this eBook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that: - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |