CHAPTER XIII
WHEN THE RED FIRE BURNED IN CHESTER
It was such a great victory that the boys of Chester laid plans to celebrate by making a night of it, just as they always do in college towns, when the local team brings home high honors, to be handed down to posterity as great feats worthy of emulation.
On the way back home every fellow in the big carryall promised to come out and join the parade that must circle through every street in town. It would be led by a brass band, and they would march to the glare of numerous bonfires, which of course the younger element could be depended on to furnish. They had already doubtless taken note of every old vegetable barrel that grocers unwittingly left outdoors nights, as well as a few tar barrels in addition, all of which would help make the heavens turn red under the glare, and add to the joyous occasion.
Jack tried to back out, but his mates would accept no excuses.
"You're no more tired than the rest of the bunch, Jack," Toby told him; "and say, what is a victorious procession going to be like, anyway, with the noblest Roman of them all absent? You are the captain of the football squad, and everybody'll expect you to be in the front rank. Just forget all your modesty for once, Jack, and make up your mind to have a grand blowout."
"We certainly deserve it," snapped Joel Jack-man, "after putting up such a royal fight against desperate odds. Why, when it drew near the end I warrant you even the most loyal among our rooters began to turn cold with fear that Chester would be left out in the count. But didn't Packy McGraw and his crowd sing loud, though? That's what a cheer captain can do for his side. Every time I heard them give that Chester yell it seemed to put fresh heart in me."
"'Course you've just got to come out, Jack," protested Steve. "Why, we'll gather around your shack and keep on yelling bloody murder if you refuse, until your folks will show you the door. We want you, and we've got to have you."
So, to "keep peace in the family," as Jack laughingly explained, he consented, although with a shade of doubt.
"Keep things within reason, fellows," he urged them. "Don't let's be too crazy with our success. It's true that we've done our town credit today, and made old Joe Hooker happier than he's been for years, because he believed in us to the end; but let's hold ourselves in some."
"It only happens once a year, as a rule, Jack," said Toby Hopkins, exultantly; "and my stars! we've just got to blow off steam after that great time, or bust, that's all."
Later on, after night had fully set in, the racket commenced. Small boys began to set off firecrackers and Fourth of July pistols loaded with blanks. Here and there the first bonfires started, until one could hardly look up and down any street in Chester without discovering one or more burning, with a host of busy little stokers clustering around, and adding fresh fuel to the flames as new stores were brought in by industrious scouts and raiders. It was a wise citizen who, having an ash barrel setting in his yard, had had the forethought to remove it to a place of safety; for the chances were decidedly against its being found in its accustomed spot when dawn came along.
Jack met Big Bob while on his way to the appointed rendezvous of the football boys, where smiling Joe Hooker had also agreed to join them for the parade. Indeed, he had a suspicion that Bob had come out of his way in the hope of finding him at home. This was proven by the first words the other spoke.
"Well, this is luck, Jack," said Bob, as he saw, by the light of a street lamp, whom he had run across. "I was on my way around to make sure you'd come out and join the boys. Then, again, I just wanted to have a few words with you about—you know what I mean, Jack."
"Has anything happened, Bob?" asked the other, quickly.
"If you mean has the mystery been cleared up, I'm sorry to tell you no," Big Bob replied. "But there has been a great change in my home affairs, Jack. It's really wonderful, to me anyhow, because all my life it seems that my father has held me at arms' lengths. Why, Jack, what do you think, when I got home tonight, dirty as anything, and with this bruise on my cheek where I struck the ground that time we had the big smash, would you believe it, he actually shook my hand with a vim, and told me he was proud of me. Why, I tell you that was worth all I did in my humble capacity, to help win the victory, yes, a dozen times over."
Jack did not laugh, although it seemed very humorous to hear a boy make such a strange statement as that. Why, most fathers would have said that much and ten times over; indeed, few could ever have allowed such a gap of coldness to arise between themselves and their own children. It was high time Mr. Jeffries awoke to a realization of the fact that he had a boy of whom any father might well be proud. Yes, he had shirked his duty as a parent long enough; and Jack was glad to know the scales were being lifted from his eyes.
To himself Jack was saying that already it seemed as though great good was coming out of Big Bob's misfortune. What would a dozen lost letters count in comparison with the knowledge that his father had begun to know him, and that the gulf hitherto existing between them was in a fair way of being definitely bridged?
"It's strange how suddenly your father has become interested in boys' sports, Bob," he went on to tell the other. "I happened to run across Mr. Holliday this morning after I saw you, and he told me something that interested me a good deal."
"About my dad, do you mean, Jack?"
"Yes, about him, Bob. Did you ever know he had contributed money toward paying off what is still due on the new gymnasium? You know Mr. Holliday is the chairman of the citizens' committee that has the financial end of the undertaking in charge."
"Do you really mean it, Jack? My father give money for such a project as that, when I've heard him say many a time that I was wasting every cent I put in baseball togs and such things; and that when he was a boy they had only a pair of skates, or a home-made sled, to have sport with. Tell me more, Jack, please; you've got me all in a flutter now."
"Oh! Mr. Holliday, Adelaide's father, you know, simply said that Mr. Jeffries had awakened at last to a realization of how much athletic sports mean for the health of all boys who love to play ball, and skate, and exercise in a gymnasium, for he had come into his office of his own accord, planked down one hundred dollars in a check, and told the chairman that if when they were making up their tally the funds fell shy to call upon him for another like amount!"
Big Bob gasped, such, was his surprise and delight. He fairly bubbled over when grasping Jack's hand and squeezing it unmercifully.
"Thank you for telling me that, Jack!" he cried. "It's certainly the best thing I've heard this many a long day. I thought I was happy over having had a share in our victory today; but say, that doesn't cut a figure with the way I am thrilled by such glorious news. It means a whole lot to me, Jack. After this I'll have a chance to know my father, and he to understand me better. Oh! if only that one dark cloud could be settled, how happy I'd be! Did that letter go across to England, or was it lost out of my pocket on that fatal occasion when I forgot?"
Jack, knowing that he could not say anything more to comfort Big Bob, tried to relieve the tension by drawing the other's attention to something else.
"We must devote ourselves from now on, Bob, to perfecting a new line of attack," he went on to say. "Every member of the Harmony squad was there in the front row, and simply devouring our methods of assault. Depend on it, they will expect to profit from what they saw today."
"That's a sort of unfair advantage, it strikes me, Jack, since we on our part know so little about their style of play. None of us has seen them practice this season; and I heard that they had completely altered their mode of attack and defense since last year."
"All right, we're going to be given a chance to learn something between now and our Thanksgiving game; because, Bob, as you must know, Harmony and Marshall are due for a fight next Saturday, the one before the day we get busy again."
Bob gave a pleased cry.
"Why, of course, how silly of me to forget that important fact, Jack! And, to be sure, the whole Chester football squad will be bunched close to the line, watching every play that is made, and remembering it for future reference. Do you think they will down poor old Marshall easier than we did?"
"They ought to," came the reply, "because they have a team that works like a well-oiled machine, I've been told. But wait and see. Lots of sure things in football dope fail to work out when the trial comes off. I've known a team that ran ten pounds heavier all through to be smartly beaten by a more lively bunch, that knew just how to carry the giants off their feet, and keep them from using their great strength. But here we are at the church, and most of the boys seem to be on hand."
It had, of course, been agreed that none of the boys should discard their football togs, though given the liberty of washing up, and making themselves a little more respectable. What would a lot of victors on the gridiron look like in a procession, passing shouting crowds of enthusiastic admirers, if they appeared dressed as if on a Sunday parade?
Old Joe Hooker was also present, bubbling over with joy over the success his proteges had won that afternoon. He freely predicted another strong fight, with a possible victory in sight, when they faced the Tigers of Harmony on Thanksgiving morning.
In due time the procession started. Crowds were in all the main streets, and windows in adjacent houses had been illuminated in honor of the occasion. Chester assumed a really festive air, and what with the mad cheering, and the loud laughter, it soon became evident that there was to be little sleep for anyone until the boys had exhausted themselves, and the supply of barrels, as well as fire-crackers, gave out.
Despite his objections they hoisted Jack on the shoulders of Steve Mullane and Big Bob Jeffries, to lead the van. Then, as though it were only fitting that good old Joe Hooker should share in the occasion, he too was taken in hand, and carried in a chair close to Jack. Amidst whooping crowds they passed, so that everybody might have a chance to set eyes on the pair whom Chester honored that night; while the explosions continued and the red fire burned in the streets.
But it was fated that the glorious day was not to be complete without a touch of tragedy, for along about nine o'clock, when the rioters were beginning to feel too tired to continue the march much longer, and people were returning to their homes in great numbers, a sudden sound rang out that sent a thrill through many hearts.
This was the loud, harsh clang of the fire-bell, telling that a real conflagration was about to add its quota to the excitement of the afternoon and evening.
CHAPTER XIV
WHAT FOLLOWED THE CELEBRATION
"Hey! boys, listen to that, will you? Has the fire-engine company started to join in the celebration?" whooped Phil Parker, who was along with the rest, though barred from the football squad because of an injury to his leg, and also positive orders from headquarters at home to avoid all strenuous sports for some months.
"Not much they haven't, Phil!" cried Joel Jackman, showing signs of growing excitement. "Nothing make-believe about that alarm, let me tell you. There's a genuine fire broken out somewhere around town!"
"Just as like as not some of those reckless kids with their bonfires have gone and done it!" ventured Steve Mullane, indignantly; "and now the people will begin to say how foolish it was to give up the town to this wild orgy of celebration, just because the boys of Chester won a game."
"Listen, will you?" exclaimed still another of the bunch, as they stood there with strained ears, and at the same time casting apprehensive glances around, as though each individual fellow had a haunting dread lest it might turn out to be his own comfortable home that was threatened with destruction.
"Going to be some fire, let me tell you," snapped Fred Badger, "with the wind blowing as strong as it does."
"There, look over yonder, boys, just beyond the spire of the Presbyterian Church! Don't you think it's showing brighter in that quarter? Yes, sir, the fire lies over that way, as sure as anything!"
"Let's gallop along, then," suggested Toby Hopkins impulsively. "No telling when the volunteer firemen will get there, they seem so slow about gathering, and running their old machine to a blaze. Thank goodness! we've decided to have an up-to-date fire department in little old Chester right away. Our town has waked up from her long sleep, and is beginning to stretch and yawn."
They were already in motion before Toby reached the end of his speech, running in pretty much of a bunch; just as though it might be a game of hare-and-hounds that was being started, and the signal had been given to take up the pursuit.
As they dashed along at quite a good speed, the boys could hear cries of interest on all sides. People who had retired to their homes, under the belief that the exciting night's doings were about over, now stood in open doorways. Questions were flung at the boys as they rushed by, the burden of these anxious inquiries being as to the location of the fire.
Of course, as they themselves were still densely ignorant concerning this, none of the bunch could give any coherent answer; though one might fling over his shoulder some reassuring words such as:
"Don't know exactly; but it doesn't seem to be in the mill section!"
Doubtless that brought a sense of relief, for whenever there sprang up a fire in Chester the first fear of everybody was that it might be among the fine structures clustered closely together, and consisting of various busy mills and workshops employing hundreds of persons.
It was a fit night for a big fire, others thought, as they noted how the November wind scurried along with a keen tang, as though the first fall of snow might yet surprise the unsuspecting who may not as yet have laid in their usual winter's supply of coal and wood.
That same wind was just bound to contribute to the fire-laddies' troubles, if the conflagration managed to get a fair start, and other buildings chanced to be close to the one that was burning.
Chester was rather spread out, and covered considerable ground, for it had taken on quite a building boom during the last few years, when new enterprises were started, and more people came to town.
There was no question now but that the boys, hurrying along as they did, were on the right road to the fire. They overtook others bound in the same direction; and as if this were not enough proof to settle the question, they could see that a great light was beginning to flame up, making the sky glow.
"Bet you it's only a grass fire after all!" Jones, the left-end gasped, as he ran lightly along close beside Hemming, the right guard, who had also been a substitute catcher in the baseball days when Steve Mullane held out behind the bat like a stone wall.
"I'd say it was a barn full of hay going up the flue," the other ventured.
No doubt every fellow was hazarding some sort of guess. None of them felt any further personal fear, because they now knew that the blaze was in a section where their homes did not chance to be situated.
"Whee! get that flash of fire, will you?" shouted Big Bob Jeffries, who, despite his heft, managed to keep in the van alongside Jack and Joel and several other fast runners.
All of them had seen it. Through the darkness of the night a tongue of flame had suddenly shot up, and then vanished again; but not before they could notice that dense volumes of smoke hung around the spot.
"What place is it?" called out McGuffey, from the centre of the bunch; "does anybody know?"
"I wouldn't be a bit surprised if it turned out to be that crabbed old miser, Philip Adkins' big house!" ventured Joel; who had often come around this way on his wheel on errands, and ought to be as well acquainted with the locality as anyone, it would seem.
"Right for you, Joel; that's just whose house it is!" echoed another boy, as well as he could utter the words, considering that he was already beginning to get short of breath.
They all knew of Philip Adkins, who had long been quite a character about Chester. He was said to be quite well-to-do, though those who called him a millionaire were doubtless "drawing the long bow," as people always do whenever the wealth of a miser is under consideration.
Philip Adkins lived in a big house that was unpainted; but those who had had the opportunity of seeing the inside always said he did not stint himself in the way of comfort at all, and that he was only a "peculiar" man. He had one great grudge against the world it seemed. Other boys were straight and healthy, but for some unaccountable reason Heaven had seen fit to give him a crippled grandson. Little Carl Adkins was a pitiable looking object. They sometimes saw him shut up in a closed carriage, and being whisked through the town; but few had ever been able to pass a word with the poor boy. These reported that he was really bright, and had a woe-begone look on his drawn white face, as though his life had known little of joy.
His grandfather hated the sight of other lads, because they reminded him that his boy had none of their abounding health and good looks. He loved the child almost fiercely, partly on account of the boy's misfortune. They said he kept a servant whose main duties were just to attend to little crippled Carl.
Jack remembered an occasion when by sheer accident he had chanced to be passing close to the property of the so-called miser, when he heard a soft "Hello, there!" and glancing up discovered a white, peaked face amidst some vines covering a stone wall. He had heard something about the strange habits of Philip Adkins, and how jealously he guarded his deformed grandson from coming in contact with the outside world, under the belief that people would pity the lad, and some be rude enough to mock his misfortunes.
Jack had stopped and given the little fellow a friendly smile. He had even spoken to Carl, and when the boy eagerly answered him, entered into quite an animated little chat, replying to many feverish questions the other poured out, mostly concerning the things he knew other boys did, for he was a great reader, that being his one enjoyment.
Although their little talk was broken off by the sudden coming of the man-servant who looked after the crippled boy, Jack had never forgotten the last words Carl spoke to him:
"Oh! what wouldn't I give if grandfather would let me just watch other boys play ball, and fish, and go in swimming!"
Jack had somehow never told any one of his little encounter with the crippled boy, but those plaintive words often rang in his ears. He had even wondered sometimes whether it would do any good if he should seek an interview with the crabbed, cross-grained old man, and try to persuade him to change his belief that he was doing right in sheltering the cripple from a rude world. But up to the present Jack had not been able to make up his mind to attempt such a bold thing.
And now, what if it turned out that this was the house that was afire, possibly set ablaze through some spark that had been carried by the wind, and lodged where it could communicate to some waste material. A peculiar sense of "coming events casting a shadow before" assailed Jack. He had a vague idea that there might prove to be more about this than mere accident. Sometimes a strange "Destiny shapes our ends," he remembered reading, "rough-hew them as we may." Mr. Adkins had determined that his poor grandson, whom he passionately loved, should be sheltered from stinging criticism, and not allowed to mingle with his kind; but perhaps a power stronger than his will might take affairs in hand, to guide him along a new path, as his eyes were opened to the light.
There was now no longer any doubt concerning the identity of the doomed structure. Joel loudly declared it to be the Adkins house, beyond question.
"And let me tell you, fellows, it's going to be a tough job for our firemen to save any part of the old building, because the blaze has got such a good start I reckon old Philip will have to put up a really modern house in place of the old rookery."
"He's got the cold cash to do it, boodles of the stuff!" panted Phil
Parker.
The Adkins house was surrounded with fair-sized grounds, in which no doubt the little prisoner took his daily constitutionals, crutches in hand, though his world must indeed have seemed exceedingly small to the poor chap.
The gate was now open, and people pouring in through the gap, all expressing a great interest in the prospect of any part of the structure being saved.
"But you can depend on it the old fellow has got it well insured," one man was saying to another as they pushed through the opening. "Trust old Philip for always looking out for the safe side. But she'll make a big blaze before they manage to get enough water going to smother the flames."
Just then the boys pushing closer toward the house that stood amidst clouds of billowing smoke saw some one rushing frantically about. It was old Philip Adkins himself, and he certainly looked almost crazed with excitement. At first, as was only natural, the boys rested under the belief that it was the possible loss of his house and its contents that made him act so wildly; but when they heard what he was shrieking they realized that he had good cause for acting so.
"Oh! won't some of you please go in and save my poor boy? I believed his attendant was with him, and had carried Carl out; but the man had slipped away after putting his charge to bed, and was over in town, amusing himself in a tavern, I've just found out. Save the poor child, and name your own reward, for I'll go mad if anything happens to my boy!"
CHAPTER XV
IN THE BURNING HOUSE
Something must have happened to delay the coming of the firemen, for as a rule they were prompt to reach the scene. Possibly their engine had broken down again, as had happened once before; which accident caused such a talk that public sentiment was aroused, with the result that a new, modern auto-engine was ordered, and a paid department arranged for.
"Look here, boys, we ought to do something about this!" exclaimed Jack
Winters, thrilled with what he had heard the sobbing old man cry out.
Philip Adkins turned toward him frantically. He certainly did not hate boys just at that moment in his life, when it seemed that perhaps he would have to depend on them for the help he was demanding.
"Oh! don't lose any time, I beg of you!" he cried. "I tried to rush indoors myself, but some men caught hold of me, and said I'd surely smother in the smoke. If I thought my poor Carl was lost, nothing could keep me from going in. Save my boy for me, and any favor you ask will be granted; but hurry! hurry, or it will be too late!"
Jack saw that the old man was wild with fear. He reached out and took hold of him by the arm.
"Get a grip on yourself, Mr. Adkins," he said, in that steady voice of his that generally acted so soothingly on those whom Jack addressed. "We'll try to get him out for you. But first tell me where his room is?"
"Upstairs at the first turn; but the hallway is full of smoke by now, and oh! I even fear the fire has reached there!" cried the old man, wringing his hands pitifully as he spoke.
"Try to point out the window of his room to me!" continued Jack, steadily.
Eagerly Mr. Adkins consented to do so, even dragging the boy around with him as he thrust up a hand and with trembling finger pointed upward.
"That one you see with the sash lowered. We try to keep him from any chilly draughts. When you push up the front stairs you must turn to the left, and enter the small passage. Don't lose any more time, or it will be too late! Go! please go!"
"We might make a human chain, and push up the stairs that way," suggested Phil Parker. "Then, even if one fellow does get dizzy inhaling all that terrible smoke he won't be apt to drop down. Jack could be at the end of the chain, always pushing ahead as we added on to it here at the open door!"
Some of the others seemed to think that a pretty clever idea, judging from the exclamations that arose all around. But Jack believed he knew what might be a safer way than the scheme thus proposed.
"Hold on," he told the others, "I've got an idea that beats yours all hollow, Phil. Leave it to me, fellows."
With that Jack sprang forward.
"I understand what he's got in his head!" cried Toby Hopkins. "It's the grape-arbor! Don't you see it lies just under that window. Fact is, a fellow can climb right up to the sash as easy as anything."
"Bully boy, Jack; you know how to manage it all right!" exclaimed Steve, admiringly, though truth to tell he had never once doubted but that Jack would discover a means to the end, as he nearly always did.
Jack was climbing fast. He knew that in a case like this seconds count. That pungent wood smoke was a terrible thing, and if Carl lay helpless at its mercy for a given period of time the chances were no power on earth could restore the little cripple to life; for his constitution was far from robust at the best, and consequently he must succumb much more speedily than would a stronger boy.
Beaching the top of the arbor Jack started to crawl along the bars heading toward the window. He had already arranged his simple plan of campaign. There was indeed only one thing he could do, which was to enter the room, and finding the lad manage in some fashion to get him to the window, and down to the ground.
"Be ready down there when I want your help!" he shouted to the rest of the gang; for what with the loud cries of new arrivals and the crackling of the flames close by it was necessary to raise one's voice in order to be heard.
One look downward Jack took just before he arrived at the side of the house. It was light enough now to see easily, for the fire had broken through, and the entire grounds seemed illuminated with the glow. He saw the faces of his numerous comrades turned upward toward him, intently watching his progress. And others had gathered around, too, intensely interested in the outcome of the affair; for they realized that it was a rescue that the football player had in hand.
There amidst the rest Jack picked out the weazened-up face of the old man. He would never so long as he lived forget that, there was such a world of apprehension, of piteous appeal in the look old Philip Adkins was bending upon him; as though all his remaining hopes of a little happiness in this world centered now upon the gallant boy who had undertaken to save his Carl.
Then Jack reached the side of the house. It felt warm to his touch, a fact that gave him a sudden fear that the worst might have happened to the crippled boy beyond the window.
One effort he made to raise the sash, but it seemed stuck, or else was locked. There was no time for halfway measures, and accordingly Jack, tearing loose a broken section of a wooden bar that formed part of the top of the trellis, smashed the window with several blows, after warning those below to get from under.
He took pains to clear the sash from any projecting fingers of glass that might have given him trouble in the shape of severe cuts. Then without another glance at the spectators gathered below the boy proceeded to crawl swiftly through the opening, heedless alike of the smoke that was oozing forth in thick volumes, or the possibility of his striking the fire itself, once he had entered the house.
They saw his heels vanish through the gap. Something like a gasp arose from some of the gathered crowd, constantly augmented as fresh arrivals came running up, to ask what had happened, and who it was they saw entering through that window.
Some seemed to consider it a rash thing to do. These for the most part were women who had not yet grasped the fact that Jack was not risking his life out of sheer bravado, but that it was believed the poor little cripple had been abandoned in his room through mistake, and it was Jack's intention to save him if he could.
Then their opinions changed like magic, for their hearts filled with sympathy. Even the sobbing old man became an object of pity, though up to then few in the crowd had been heard to express any sorrow because it was Philip Adkins' house that was afire. This was owing to his unpopularity in Chester, where he never gave to any charitable object, or for that matter even treated folks decently in his bitterness toward all mankind because his poor boy was so deformed, and stricken by a cruel Fate.
The football boys, however, felt none of those fears. They knew Jack Winters' ways, and that he always did what he attempted, if it lay within the range of human possibilities. Although he had gone from their sight they continued to stand there in a bunch, ready to catch the child if Jack dropped him from the window.
One there was who did not seem content to just stand and wait. Joel Jackman was built upon too nervous lines for that; and just as soon as he had seen the last of Jack through the broken window he started up after his leader. Some of the other fellows called to him to come back, but Joel knew what he was about, and gave no heed to their cries.
Jack might need help, he argued with himself, and in that case his arm would come in handy. There was surely enough of them below to do all that was necessary, so that his absence would not count for much. And after all perhaps Joel would prove to be right in his surmise.
Meanwhile Jack had entered the room.
He found it full of pungent smoke that filled his eyes, and made them smart in a way that was almost unbearable. Of course under such conditions he could not distinguish a single thing, and would have to depend on groping his way around.
But it could not be a very large apartment, he figured, and the bed on which little crippled Carl lay must be against the wall. So he immediately started to go the rounds, feeling with his hands in front of him. Foot by foot he went, coming in contact first of all with some sort of dresser that evidently stood between the windows, for there were two in the room, the other having its shutter closed, probably in order to keep out the light to a certain extent.
Still onward Jack pressed, groping as he went. He shut his eyes, for sight was next to useless under such trying conditions, and the smart of the wood smoke almost unbearable.
Then to his satisfaction he stumbled against what proved to be the side of a bed. Eagerly he bent lower, and began to feel among the clothes. He was thrilled when he actually touched something that seemed like a human form, though Jack felt a wave of feeling pass over him when he realized that it was the poor boy's distorted back that he had first of all come in contact with.
Tenderly, eagerly he gathered some of the bedclothes around the figure. There was not the least sign of life or animation about the boy. He might be dead for all Jack could tell; but no matter, he must be saved from those cruel approaching flames.
Having bundled him up the best he could, under such trying conditions, Jack gathered the little chap in his arms. He felt a glow in the region of his heart just then, such as anyone engaged in a mission of rescue might experience. But then, it was only a little thing to do, Jack thought; he really took no risk, and had he held back he would never have forgiven himself for allowing prudence to sap his desire to render assistance.
Now for the window again. He looked around him in vain. His eyes were blinded by the smoke so that he could not tell in which direction he must go in order to come upon the exit.
Baffled in this one respect, that of vision, Jack turned to another of his senses. He knew there must be a draught setting toward the opening, from which smoke was pouring so heavily. So he set to work endeavoring to learn which way the air moved, knowing that in this fashion he could grope his way to the exit.
Those outside were becoming a bit worried. No doubt seconds had been magnified into minutes in their minds, and they began to have fears that something had happened to the daring lad who had ventured within the building. Every eye remained glued upon the place of his disappearance.
Joel had before then succeeded in reaching the open window, where he crouched and waited, occasionally peering in as if half tempted to crawl through the gap after Jack.
He had hard work contenting himself to remain there on his precarious perch; indeed, only that he did not wish to seem to be interfering with Jack's plans Joel certainly would have ventured across the window sill. Unable to beep silent any longer, he finally gave a loud shout:
"This way out, Jack! Here's the window, over this way!"
CHAPTER XVI
JACK SPEAKS FOR LITTLE CARL
That was a bright idea on the part of Joel, cowering there at the window, and dodging the dense volume of smoke that poured forth as through a funnel. For Jack heard the call, and it gave him a clue as to where the window lay. So presently he arrived there, greatly to Joel's delight.
"Oh! you've got the poor little chap then, have you, Jack? Is he dead or alive?" was what he burst out with, as he became aware of his friend's presence.
"I don't know," Jack replied; "but we must get him down as quick as we can, Joel, so a doctor can work over him. He may not be too far gone yet from the smoke. The fire never touched him. Do you think we could manage it between us, by taking all manner of care?"
"Sure thing, Jack. Here, let me hold him some while you climb out.
Hang that awful smoke, it makes the tears blind you!"
A shout arose from the anxious crowd below. Jack did not dare waste even seconds in glancing down, but he could imagine the old man stretching his hands up mutely as though imploring the rescuers to hasten, so as to relieve the tension of his breaking heart.
Cautiously they began to make their way along over the top of the trellis. Jack only feared lest some strip of rotten wood might give way under their combined weight, and allow them to plunge downward. A solid phalanx of the sturdy football players had formed directly beneath, and they seemed determined that if anything of this sort took place they would serve as a buffer, so that those who fell through might not be seriously injured.
But no accident befell them, and soon they were being assisted down the arbor by willing hands. The old man fought his way into the midst, nor did anyone have the heart to deny him this privilege, understanding how frantic he must be to learn the worst.
A gentleman pushed forward.
"Here's Doc. Halleck!" cried Phil Parker, just then recognizing one of the town physicians, who with the rest had hurried to the spot, possibly being at the time on his night round of visits to patients, and thinking that perhaps the services of a doctor might be needed at the fire.
He took the bundled form of the cripple from Jack. Old Mr. Adkins hung over the boy as though everything he had in the wide world could go up in flames if only he might be told that the child was all right. In that minute of time people who had looked down on the old miser with scorn began to realize that he was capable of human affection, and that he actually had a heart.
Carrying the lad to some little distance from the house, to be out of the way of the firemen when they arrived and set to work with their apparatus, Doctor Halleck laid his burden on the ground. Then he called for some water, and the old man told one of the boys how to get a supply from the well close by.
When this was fetched, the physician, who had already been holding a small phial containing ammonia, Jack suspected, to the cripple's nose, set to work to bathe his patient's face with the cool liquid.
"Oh! tell me the worst, Doctor, please!" begged old Mr. Adkins, wringing his hands as, by the light of the fire, he looked at the white face of little Carl, seemingly so corpse-like. "Is he dead, my poor, poor boy?"
"Nonsense, Mr. Adkins, he will be all right inside of five minutes," said the doctor, brusquely, for like many other people he had never liked the old miser. "He has inhaled considerable of the smoke, and must have fainted away up there in his room, after calling out for help without being heard. I give you my word, sir, there is nothing serious the matter with him; though had he remained in that terrible atmosphere a short time longer all efforts to resuscitate him would be in vain. You owe a lot to the boy who brought him out in time, let me tell you, sir."
At that the old man turned upon Jack Winter, and clutched his hand almost fiercely. He was about to pour out a torrent of words telling how grateful he felt, when to the great relief of the boy a shout arose that drowned everything else out.
"Here comes the engine at last! Now watch the boys get busy!"
A roar went up as the red-shirted firemen with their helmets and their waterproof garments came rushing into the grounds. A babel of confusion followed, as they demanded to know where they could get connection with the nearest fire hydrant on the street, or if none were handy where could the cistern be found!
Jack broke away and went with the rest of the boys to lend a hand if anything could be done to assist the fire-fighters. It was learned that a hydrant stood handy not a hundred feet distant, and to this a hose was attached without delay. Meanwhile the engine was run alongside a cistern, and set to work, the loud pumping soon telling that operations had been started.
When the first stream of water was seen pouring into an open window a cheer arose from the crowd. Of course few expected that there would be much left of the building but the bare walls, for the fire had by this time gotten a good start, and was being whipped by the night wind; but then they did not bother to waste any sympathy upon the owner, after once learning who he was.
It was a spectacular and fitting climax to the night's celebration, just as though Nature wished to add her mite to the glorification on account of the victory Chester's boys had won on the gridiron that day.
For some time it was a fight between the rival elements, fire against water; and as the former had obtained a good start it proved to be a difficult thing to head it off. Here, there and in many places the flames would break forth, and eat up whole sections of the frame building, despite the vigorous efforts of the firemen to control them. Fortunately there was no house near enough to be caught in the whirlwind of flames that poured furiously forth from time to time. A myriad of red sparks flew on the wind; but those who lived in the quarter whence they went were doubtless taking all necessary precautions to prevent damage, even to wetting the roofs of their dwellings with the garden hose, or by means of buckets.
Taken in all, it was a pretty lively time in Chester, and one not soon to be forgotten either. The fire burned well through the house. It would have gone like a bundle of shingles only that the flames had started at the leeward end, and consequently had to eat their way against the wind.
Some of the boys had gone home, well tired out, but a number of them still hung around, and seemed bent on staying as long as Jack Winters did. If he had seen old Mr. Adkins approaching, Jack might have tried to slip away, but he was unaware of the fact, though Joel and Toby knew it, and exchanged nods, while refraining from putting the other on his guard.
So suddenly Jack found himself once more seized upon by Philip Adkins.
The miser was looking a thousand per cent better than before. That
agonized expression had left his face, and something seen there caused
Toby to say aside to Joel, "He almost looks human."
"You are the boy who saved my Carl's life!" exclaimed Mr. Adkins, in a voice that trembled with emotion, all the while he was clinging to Jack's hand as though he did not mean to let him go free. "They tell me that your name is Jack Winters, and that you are a comparatively new boy in Chester. I don't remember hearing of you before, but they say you have taken the lead of the boys here in town, and that everybody is talking about the influence you have with them. You have done me a great favor this night, Jack Winters. That poor little fellow, tortured as he is by a cruel Nature, is dearer to me than most boys are to their parents. I told you to ask me any favor you could think of, and if it was within my means I'd gladly respond. Even now I'd be glad to know something that I could do, just to prove to everyone how grateful an old man like me can be. Isn't there anything I can do for you, Jack Winters?"
The other fellows listened, and their eyes gave indication of how they considered this the golden opportunity in Jack's life. Why, to have an old miser worth all sorts of money say he would like to bestow anything in his power on a boy, to show his gratitude, was an event that only came to most fellows in dreams.
Jack had a sudden inspiration. It seemed to him that he could again see the pitiful look on the white face of the cripple, and once more hear little Carl saying so sadly:
"Oh! what wouldn't I give if my grandfather would only let me watch other boys play ball, and fish, and go in swimming!"
"I'll tell you something you can do, Mr. Adkins, since you seem bent on thinking my little assistance needs compensation; and I'm going to hold you to your promise, sir. In the first place, please alter your opinion of the boys of Chester. They are not the gang of young ruffians you've been picturing to yourself, when you set your mind on keeping your grandson from coming in contact with them. They would never taunt him, or make fun of his misfortune, sir, I give you my word for that. They would only feel very sorry that he couldn't have all sorts of fun like they enjoyed; and if it lay in their power at any time I assure you every fellow would go far out of his way to give little Carl a good time.
"I hope I'm not overbold in saying this to you, Mr. Adkins; but one day I happened to have a little chat with Carl, who hailed me from the top of the wall where he had climbed. And, sir, if you could have heard the longing in his voice when he said to me at parting: 'Oh! what wouldn't I give if my grandfather would only let me watch other boys play ball, and fish, and go in swimming!' Don't you see you are starving his soul by keeping him away from everybody? Some day, if he lives, he must face the world, and you're keeping him from getting used to it now. Please think this over, Mr. Adkins, and let him mingle with boys of his age. You'll never regret it, I'm sure, and it would be the best thing for the boy that could happen. You'll soon see color come in his face, and his eyes will take on a different look from the one of pain and dread they have now. And the first boy who offends that little cripple will have to reckon with me, sir, I give you my word for it!"
"And with me, too," snapped Fred Badger, trying hard to keep from letting his eyes betray the fact that he was near crying; for Jack's earnest plea, and the thought of the lonely life the little cripple had been leading greatly affected Fred.
Other boys added their assurances to what had already been said. Mr. Adkins was plainly much impressed. He showed it by the way he stared around at the circle by which he was surrounded. Jack held his breath with suspense. He wondered if he had made the impression he hoped for when saying what he did. Strange, how things had worked to bring matters to this focus.
"I will think it over, Jack," said the old man, presently. "I already begin to find my eyes opened to the fact that I have sadly misjudged the Chester boys all these years. This almost tragic event may be what was needed to lift the scales from my distorted vision, and enable me to see clearly. Yes, I will think it over, and let you know the result very soon. If I can convince myself that it would be for that dear child's benefit there is nothing from which I would shrink."
And after the boys had seen him depart, once more hurrying back to where Carl lay bundled up in blankets, every fellow insisted on shaking Jack's hand, and telling how his feat in saving the cripple was overshadowed in his victory over the crabbed old boy-hating miser.
CHAPTER XVII
THE AFTERMATH OF A GOOD DEED
"Well, this is the last chance we'll have to practice our secret signal codes before we run foul of Harmony in the big game tomorrow!" said Joel Jackman, on Wednesday afternoon, as he and several other of the team arrived at the same isolated field, where we saw them working under the direction of old Joe Hooker on that previous occasion when Jack and Joel discovered the presence of spies, who later on turned out to be three little maids from school, deeply interested in the doings of the boys, and watching the play through a pair of opera glasses.
"Yes, tomorrow morning is the grand and glorious occasion when we hope to more than duplicate our past performance with Marshall," laughed Fred Badger.
Joel cast a quick glance across the field. Jack smiled when he saw that his attention was centered on the big oak, in the branches of which they had found Mollie Skinner and her two girl chums snugly ensconced.
"Still thinking of that other time, eh, Joel?" he asked, as the other caught his eye and turned a little red.
"Why, you see, it's this way, Jack," stammered Joel; "I honestly believe those girls were our mascots. They said they meant to wish, and hope, and pray that we'd win the game against Marshall, and sure enough we did that same thing. Now, why shouldn't history repeat itself, I'd like to know? Suppose we did discover 'em peeking again, wouldn't it make you believe we were bound to down Harmony tomorrow? I'm not given much to superstition, but I own up I could see something like a good sign about that sort of thing."
"Well, I happen to know that Mollie, for one, is over at her grandmother's in Springfield today," spoke up Fred Badger, who of course had heard about the visit of the trio of high school girls to the big oak, and how Jack and Joel had to climb up and help them get back to earth again. "But she'll be on hand for the game tomorrow; in fact, she expects to be home tonight."
"Oh! leave it to little Freddy to know all about the movements of Miss Mollie Skinner," crowed Phil Parker somewhat derisively; but then no one paid much attention to what Phil said, because it was well known that the said Fred had cut him out of Mollie's favors, for once upon a time she and Phil had gone together to singing-school and parties.
They found most of the boys assembled, and waiting for the coming of the coach, who had faithfully promised to be on hand that afternoon, in order to go over the various signal codes again. Joe Hooker had not yet put in an appearance, and several of the substitutes were enjoying themselves punting the ball, doubtless also wondering if they were going to be as luckless as before about breaking into the game, this time with Harmony's Tigers.
"Jack," remarked Toby Hopkins just then, "I want to know what's happened to keep you chuckling to yourself right along. I never knew you to do such a thing except when you had something especially pleasant to communicate."
"Do you know," spoke up Steve, "I was just thinking the same thing, Toby. More than a few times I've seen Jack look around at the rest of us, and grin as if he felt almost tickled to death over something."
"Well, I am," calmly remarked the object of this attack.
"Then why don't you up and tell the whole bunch what's in the wind, Jack?" asked Joel. "It isn't fair to keep it to yourself hoggishly, is it, fellows?"
"We demand that you confess, Jack!" said Big Bob, sternly.
Jack beckoned to the fellows who were knocking the ball about.
"Come over here, all of you, and gather around me," he said, pretending to look very serious, but not making a great success of it. "I've got something to communicate that may please the bunch, for it concerns every one of us, as well as all other boys in Chester."
"Then it must be about the new gymnasium, Jack!" exclaimed Fred.
"Some one has given the project another boost," ventured Phil Parker. "I wonder now if your dad, Bob, has planked down more hundreds after what he's already donated. Is that it, Jack?"
"Mr. Jeffries has already done his whole duty in the matter, and proven his interest in Chester boys," said Jack. "There happens to be another gentleman in the town who up to date had a pretty poor opinion of boys in general, but who's had a change come over him, a revolutionary change, I should say, because he'd been in to see Mr. Holliday, asking for facts and figures, and then binding himself to stand for every dollar still needed to put the gymnasium on a firm footing, without going one cent in debt!"
The boys held their breath for just five seconds. Then, as if by some concerted signal, they burst out into one great shout, while several threw their extra sweaters high in the air, as though bound to give expression to the state of their feeling in some exuberant fashion.
"Great news this you've brought us today, Jack!" cried Steve Mullane, his honest face lighted up with joy. "Now, what generous gentleman do we have to thank for putting the project on such a solid basis as that? All the boys of Chester will for ages to come feel bound to honor his memory."
"What ails you, Steve, not to be able to guess ?" Toby demanded. "Have you forgotten what happened the night after we licked Marshall, and the Adkins house burned to the ground? Am I right in my guess, Jack, and was this grand present made in the name of little Carl Adkins?"
"You've hit the nail on the head, Toby," admitted the leader of the football squad. "It was old Philip Adkins, and Mr. Holliday said to me that he had never seen such a change as has taken place in that man. Why, he's smiling all the time now, and has been known to stop and watch street boys playing marbles in the vacant lots, or kicking an old fake football around in the side streets of town. Seems like the old gentleman had just waked up, and begun to understand that boys have their appointed place in the whole fabric of animated Nature, as Mr. Holliday expressed it to me in his poetic way."
"Go on and tell us all about it, Jack," urged several, as they continued to press around and listen to all that was being said.
"There isn't such a lot to tell, fellows," protested Jack. "Mr. Adkins told me he would think matters over, and it seems that he has come to a sensible conclusion. He signed an agreement with the chairman of the gym. committee of finances, binding himself to pay all bills outstanding after the present collections have been taken up. I understand that this will be something like six thousand dollars, so you can see that after all it sometimes pays to have a converted miser in any community."
"Just what it does," agreed Steve, "because, once he sees things at their true value, he's apt to give a heap more liberally than some tightwads who never have had to turn over a new leaf."
"So you see," continued Jack, "we'll not have to worry any more as to how the balance of the debt is going to be paid. When we open our new and wonderful gym, containing all sorts of up-to-date appliances for physical development, there will be no debt hanging over our heads. We figured on having to give all sorts of entertainments the coming winter, from basket-ball matches to minstrel performances, in order to raise funds to help out; but now we can devote our time to having all the fun going. You also remember the big promise several of the mill- owners made, led by Mr. Charles Taft?"
"They agreed that if we could work wonders, and get the gymnasium fully paid for when it started, they'd guarantee having a salaried physical instructor engaged who would be there week in and week out, ready to devote his entire attention to the job of building up weak bodies, and giving counsel to those who might strain themselves too much all at once. Yes, and everybody agreed that if any such instructor were engaged we'd all vote to have our dear old Joe Hooker installed. Well, that dream is going to come true also. Joe has signed for a year and will begin his new duties on the first day of December, so that he can be present to see that the apparatus is all properly installed in the gym. when it arrives."
Again a mighty shout attested to the love those fellows felt for smiling Joe, the old-time college player, who had been such a helpful instrument in building up a winning baseball nine, and now a football eleven, in Chester.
"There never was and never will be again a town more highly favored by fortune than little old Chester," affirmed Steve Mullane, when he could make himself heard above all the wild clamor. "While the spirit is strong within us, fellows, let's give three cheers, first for Mr. Philip Adkins, the boys' best friend; and then another series for our own beloved Joe."
"There he comes now, hurrying along, with a limp, and waving his hand to us!" exclaimed another boy.
The cheers were given with a will. Joe waved his hand again in greeting. He must have guessed that they had heard about the contract he signed that same morning in the office of his employer, Mr. Charles Taft, whereby he agreed to be responsible for the upbuilding of the new gymnasium, and the character of its many boy members, for the period of a whole year, devoting his energies to the task, even as his heart was already enlisted in the work.
"Is there anything else you want to tell us before we settle down to business, Jack?" asked Toby Hopkins.
"Just one more thing," replied the other, still smiling. "It concerns that poor little cripple and hunchback, Carl. He has a really wonderful mind, once you get to know him, as so many of his type seem to have; as though Nature to make amends for having cheated them out of so many pleasures connected with boy life had given an additional portion of intellect. Mr. Adkins came over to our house especially to see me last night. Now although he completed those arrangements with the chairman of the financial committee yesterday he never once mentioned the fact to me. What he did say was that he had thought my proposition over carefully, and was convinced that after all he had made a terrible mistake in trying to shield Carl from contact with the world that some day, if he lived, he must mingle with. So he has determined that the boy shall go in and out as he wishes, meet other boys, take the little knocks as others do, and have something to do with the sports boys love so dearly. Of course he won't be able to run, or attempt most things; but he can see others doing them, and that will give him almost as much pleasure. Why, fellows, Mr. Adkins fairly cried when he told me how the poor little chap hugged him after he learned what big revolution was coming about in his daily life. But here's Joe on hand, and ready to put us through our last signal drills; so let's forget everything, except the game with the Harmony Tigers tomorrow morning."
CHAPTER XVIII
BIG BOB BRINGS NEWS
When his mother told Jack he was wanted at the 'phone on Thanksgiving morning shortly after he finished his breakfast, he had a queer little feeling down in the region of his heart, as though something was going to happen.
"I've been half expecting it," he said to himself, as he hurried to the stair landing, where the small table with the receiver stood, handy to those above and below. "It would be pretty tough now if some fellow called me to say he couldn't show up this morning for the game, because he had been taken with the colic during the night, and was as weak as a cat. Hello, there!"
"Jack, are you through breakfast?" asked a voice.
"Oh! it's you, is it, Big Bob?" Jack went on to say, his fears in no way relieved by the discovery of the identity of the one who had called him up. "Yes, I'm through eating. What's up?"
"I'm coming over right away, Jack. Got to see you—very urgent!"
Jack groaned. Then the blow was about to fall, and Chester would be deprived of their best full-back. No one else could be depended upon like Big Bob for kicking a field goal, or one after a touchdown.
"All right, come along. I'll try to brace myself to stand it!" he said.
Bob did not make any further comment, but just before Jack caught the click as of a receiver being placed on the hook, he thought he heard a sound that was either a chuckle or a grunt, he did not know which.
So he waited for the other to make his appearance, waited, and puzzled his head in the endeavor to guess what Bob would have to say, inventing all sorts of possible excuses for wanting to give up connection with the game. Jack was grimly determined that he would not let go his hold on the big fullback until the last gasp. Surely he must be able to advance some argument that would have weight with any objections the other might raise.
But there was Bob coming as fast as he could walk, even breaking into a little run at times. His case must indeed be a desperate one to make him act like that. Jack went to the door to meet him, thinking the worst. Of course, just at the last hour as it might be Bob's father had put the vital question to him, asking squarely if he could vouch for it that he had mailed that important letter; and poor Bob had to confess his shortcoming. Then Mr. Jeffries, with a return of his old- time sternness, had told the offender that in punishment he should not be allowed to participate in the great Thanksgiving morning game with boasting Harmony.
It was too bad, and Jack felt his heart sink within him like lead. The morning had up to then seemed so crisp and promising that he had been telling himself how even Dame Nature favored the football rivals, and that everything was fine; but now all of a sudden the whole aspect seemed to change.
He had refrained from opening the front door until Bib Bob mounted the steps, on account of the cold wind that would enter. Now as he swung it wide to allow the other passage Jack gave a tremendous start.
"See here, what's this mean? You don't look as if you brought bad news along with you, Big Bob?" he fairly gasped, clutching the other by the arm.
The Jeffries boy was grinning for all he was worth. Jack could not remember ever looking upon a face that seemed so utterly joyous. His eyes were dancing, and there was a flush in his cheeks that did not even confine itself to that portion of his round face, for Big Bob was as red as a turkey-gobbler strutting up and down the barnyard to the admiration of his many wives.
"Bad news, Jack!" exclaimed the other in a half-choked voice; "well, I should say not. It's the most glorious news I'm rushing over here with this fine morning. No one could have given me a more delightful surprise than I got just a little while ago. Jack! I did mail that letter, of course I did, silly that I was to ever doubt such a thing!"
"How do you know now that you did?" asked Jack, thrilled with satisfaction, while he dragged the other into the hall so that he might close the front door.
"Why, while we were just finishing breakfast who should stop at the house but Mr. Dickerson himself. He said an important letter had arrived for father, and as he was on his way back home to have his breakfast according to his usual habit between mails, he though he'd fetch it along with him; for father and he are very good friends, you must know, and Jack, when I saw that it was from London, you—well, you could have knocked me over with a feather I was so excited. Father read it, and I heard him tell mother that two of his letters did get across after all. So you see, Jack, he took a hint from that article we left for him to see, and used the follow-up style of correspondence. I've figured it all out, and know that a steamer carrying a third letter couldn't have had time to get there. Besides, I heard father say it was the first, and also the second letter that landed, for his correspondent told him he had just received a copy of the original, and hastened to reply to both."
Jack seized the other's willing hand, and the two indulged in a mutual squeezing affair, in which the honors were about even. Big Bob certainly looked happier than Jack could ever remember seeing him before. Well, he had good reason for feeling light-hearted, since in a flash he had been enabled to throw overboard the terrible weight that had for days and weeks been lying upon his soul, and making life unhappy for the poor fellow.
"But, Jack," Bob went on to say, earnestly, "right now I want you to understand that I mean to profit by this thing."
"Yes, I remember you vowed you would, Bob," remarked the pleased captain of the Chester eleven, once more easy in his mind, and no longer seeing that horrible gaping weak spot in the line-up.
"This is going to be a lesson to me," continued Bob, soberly. "I've turned over a new leaf for keeps. Just let me catch myself acting careless again, whether in small things or in weighty ones, that's all. If I do I'm resolved to punish myself severely. That fault has got to be conquered, once and for all."
"Fine for you, Bob," Jack told him. "And so in the end the terrible trouble that threatened to break you all up, and keep you from enjoying the sports you love so well, has turned out to be only the best thing that could ever have happened to a fellow with a bad fault. That's the way things often go, Bob. Every fellow can look back and see a number of happenings that at the time he considered to be almost calamities; but long after they are past he discovers that they only forced him to change his calculations, much to his profit in many ways; so that they turned out to be mere stepping-stones on the road to success."
"Well," the other went on, "I just couldn't keep the good news from you, Jack, so I ran over to tell, because you've been such a great help to me in my time of trouble. And, Jack, there's something more. Tonight, after the game's all over, I've made up my mind I'm going to have a good heart-to-heart talk with my father."
"Yes, I think that would be a wise move for you, Bob," said Jack, deeply impressed.
"I want him to know first of all what it was worried me all this while; that instead of my being sick in body I was sick at heart, and grieving because I had, as I feared, done him a great wrong. Yes, I'm going to tell him everything, even to how we put that paper where he could see it, so he might take a notion to write a second and a third letter, and make dead sure. He must know that I've changed, and had my lesson that will make me a different sort of a fellow. Besides, my dad has changed, too, as you know; and I firmly believe that after this we're going to be regular chums."
"It couldn't be better, Bob, and I certainly congratulate you on the way things have come out. And of course, after such a glorious piece of news striking you on this particular morning, you'll be able to eat your Thanksgiving turkey and pumpkin pie with the right sort of spirit."
"Will I?" laughed the fullback; "well, they'll wonder whether there's any bottom to my stomach today, for I've got a lot of neglected dinners to make up for, you know. The sky never did look one-half so bright to me as this morning, after I learned the great news. It would seem cheery even if black clouds sailed over, and the snow began to fritter down; because my heart is as light as a feather right now, and there's no place for gloom down there."
"I'm glad in many ways that this has happened just now," continued Jack. "First, I'm glad on your account, because you certainly have had a rocky time of it for long dreary weeks. Then I'm rejoiced for your father, because he has such a true-blue son, and has only just found it out. Last of all, I'm feeling particularly joyful for the sake of Chester, because after this, Bob, I expect you'll be in trim to play the game of your life this morning against Harmony Tigers."
"Just you watch my smoke, that's all, Jack. Why, I feel as if I could do almost anything, I'm that full of ginger and snap and happiness. The cobwebs have all been swept clear from my brain, and Robert is himself again. If I don't do Chester credit today just take my head for a football, and boot it, that's what. But I must be going now, because both of us have things to do before we dress to go out on the field. This will be a banner day for the old town. It's been a long time back since they've seen a genuine game of football here. I'm glad you drew the choice, because in Harmony there's always an element that tries to make it unpleasant for visiting teams, none of which is found in Marshall or in Chester, where we treat our visitors as true sportsmen should. Well, so-long, Jack. I couldn't keep such good news any longer, you understand."
"And I'm mighty glad you didn't, Big Bob; for you've given me a whole lot to be thankful over. When I heard some one wanted me at the 'phone I was conjuring up all sorts of evil things happening that would threaten our line-up. Even after I heard your voice I wasn't at all sure but you meant to tell me your father had learned the truth, and ordered you to stay at home today. But everything has come out gilt- edged, and we can afford to laugh."
"Yes," sang out the happy Bob as he started for the door, "everything is lovely, and the goose hangs high; only today I reckon the bird will turn out to be a turkey instead. I'll be on deck long before time for the game, Jack, and something tells me we're going to give those fighters from Harmony the tussle of their lives, as well as win the game from them."
"I hope you're a true prophet, Big Bob," laughed Jack, waving his hand after his friend, and then closing the door.
Indeed, he felt, as he said, like "shaking hands with himself," the reaction had been so great, and Bob's news so satisfactory. It might be looked at as an omen of good luck for the momentous occasion. Surely a day that had opened in such a glorious manner for Big Bob, and the team in general, could not have bitterness and gall in store for those gallant Chester fellows who expected to improve upon their work in Marshall, and tear a victory on the gridiron from Harmony's team.
Jack occupied himself in various ways until it was time for him to sally forth and join his band at the rendezvous. Then in good time they would head for the field, where they might expect to see a perfect mob awaiting their coming.