"Where some are it's likely there are more," and Will at once resumed his search. His efforts were speedily rewarded by the discovery of another bundle similar to the one that had already been found, and, dropping his scoop, he hastily began to count the canes.
"Here they are!" he exclaimed joyfully. "Every last one of them is here!"
"Then the sophs must have been to both places where we had them."
"Yes, but it's all the better for us. We'll now be—"
Foster stopped abruptly as the farmer that owned the buildings appeared in the doorway and for a moment stared blankly at them.
"Good morning," said Will cheerfully. "We're here after these canes."
"So I see," replied the farmer. "The freshmans didn't find ye out, then?"
"It's all right," responded Will glibly. "How much are we to pay you?"
"They paid me last night. I guess 'twas 'beout right. I don't want nothin' more."
"We've tumbled your hay over more than we thought," said Will, as he thrust a bill into the man's hand.
"I don't know 'beout it," drawled the farmer, nevertheless thrusting the money into his pocket. "Putty good pay, but I don't know but I might's well take it."
"Of course you're to take it!" said Will eagerly. "All we ask of you now is not to tell anybody—anybody," he added with special emphasis, "that we've taken the canes away. Don't tell any one of it or the whole game will be spoiled."
"I'll be as mum as a hitchin' post."
Without waiting for any further words the two boys seized the bundles and at once departed from the barn. When they came out into the lane they looked carefully about them in every direction, but no one could be seen and they soon came out into the open road.
"What are we going to do with them now?" inquired Foster, as they halted for a moment."We can't take them back to our rooms," said Will.
"No! No! That would never do."
"I'll tell you," said Will quickly. "Let's take them down to that old bridge yonder," pointing as he spoke toward a rude bridge that spanned the stream not far away.
"All right. Come along, then," responded Foster.
Instantly the two boys began to run and in a brief time arrived at the rude structure, and after a hasty inspection they placed the two bundles on the piers beneath the bridge and then covered them with the driftwood that had been cast up on the bank of the stream when its waters had been swelled by the passing storms.
When their work was at last completed they departed for Winthrop and arrived just as the final strokes of the bell were given that assembled the students in the chapel. They hastily passed in with the throng of students and were in their seats in time to receive credit for attendance.
As they passed out from the chapel when the service was ended they came face to face with Mott and a group of sophomores, who evidently were waiting for their appearance; but as neither Foster nor Will betrayed any emotion by the expression upon their faces it was impossible for the sophomores to perceive whether or not the canes had been discovered.
There was no question about their opinions, however, when later in the day it was apparent that the sophomore class was possessed of a feeling of intense excitement. Parties were sent forth in various directions, and there was the keenest interest manifest in the entire college. Will and Foster, however, were too wise to relate their experiences to any except to the three or four leaders of their class; and when night fell, by a circuitous route, and then only after a half-dozen parties had been sent out in other directions to mislead any of their rivals who might be watching their movements, they proceeded to the bridge, secured the canes, and bringing them safely back to the college under the protecting shelter of the darkness, distributed them among the members of the class.
Great was the elation of the freshmen when on the following morning they formed in a body near the gymnasium just before the hour of morning prayers in the chapel and then marched to the service every one carrying in his hands one of the coveted sticks.
The discomfited sophomores endured in silence the gibes of the students, and the exultant freshmen received the applause that greeted their success with an air that it is to be feared only served to increase the chagrin of their rivals. And Will Phelps and Foster were at once, and by a common though unspoken assent, awarded a place among the leaders of their class for their success.
Of the parade that took place that day Will Phelps did not tire of talking for many a week. The assembled crowd of students, townspeople, and visitors, the long line of freshmen in the parade and their grotesque appearance, the stirring music of a brass band at the head of the line, the march to the lower campus where the huge bonfire was kindled, the weird songs and dancing as in dual lines the two lower classes with joined hands leaped and danced about the blazing fire, and then the final consignment to the flames of the huge wooden hatchet that had been carried in the parade, were all incidents that duly impressed him. And when at last the fires burned low and the final song was sung, and it was declared that the hatchet was buried forever and all feelings of animosity between the lower classmen were at an end, the boys returned to their rooms feeling that a well-earned victory had been won.
The escapades were doubtless silly, and in after years brought a smile to the faces of the participants when they were then recalled, but nevertheless they had formed a part of the experiences of college life and had brought with them the development of certain qualities of leadership which in other ways and in later days were to play no small part in the lives of Will Phelps and his room-mate.
The coming of springtime in Winthrop was always an occasion of general rejoicing. The hills were once more covered with their garments of green and the valleys were beautiful in their verdure. Among the students at Winthrop there was usually a relaxing of effort then, but Will Phelps, though the effort cost him much, still held himself resolutely to his tasks. He had been learning not merely what to study but also how to study, and in his spring vacation his father had explained to him that this was his supreme purpose and desire. If a man did not learn how to work while he was a student in college it was seldom the case that he learned it afterward. And Will had responded. His Greek was still distasteful to him, but he was doing somewhat better and was more content.
The crowning ambition in Will's heart as we know was to secure a place on the college track team. And he had been working quietly yet persistently under the guidance of Wagner for the desired end. At last, early in May, came the trial meets of the college when the selections for the team were to be made, and when Will donned his running suit and went down to the track to all appearances he was calmer than his room-mate. But in his heart there was a feeling such as he had never known before.
CHAPTER XXVII
CONCLUSION
It was a noisy crowd of students that assembled at the Winthrop athletic field on that day early in May when the trials for the track team were to be held. Keen as was the interest in baseball the interest in the track team was even keener, for hope was high among the students that a championship team would be turned out and the competition among the eight colleges that composed the league was at fever heat. The most formidable rival of Winthrop was Alden, and, as within the past four years each of the two colleges had won the championship twice, the coming contest would decide the possession of the cup which the association had voted should be held in the permanent possession of the college which had won most of the meets within the limits of the five years.
Will Phelps was keenly excited although his movements were very deliberate as he walked about the field clad in his running suit, over which he was wearing his bath robe. His desire to secure a place on the team was so strong that he hardly dared face the possibility of a failure. The disappointments of the year would in a measure be atoned for if only he might win the coveted honor. He had carefully followed the instructions of Wagner, the captain of the team, who though, by his physician's orders was not to compete, was nevertheless deeply interested and for some reason had taken an especially strong liking to Will Phelps. Upon his advice Will had retired early the preceding night and had secured a rest that made him now feel that if ever he was to win, the present opportunity was the supreme one.
"Don't do your best in the heats, unless you have to," said Wagner as he approached Will on the field and stopped for a moment to chat with him. "Save your strength for the finals."
Will smiled but did not reply. In his present state of mind he was wondering if he could run at any pace that was not his best. The events were being run off now and he was striving to become interested in them. Anything that would call his thoughts away from himself and his own contest was to be desired, he thought. Foster had tried and failed to win a place and Peter John Schenck too had not been successful. Was his own chance better than theirs? He could hardly believe that it was, and yet if determination could aid he knew that his lack, if he should be found wanting, would not be due to that cause.
At last the supreme moment arrived and the call for the first heat in the hundred yards dash was heard. Will's heart was beating furiously when he cast aside his bath robe and tossed it to Foster who was waiting to receive it. His room-mate smiled encouragingly but was too wise to speak and Will advanced to the line. He perceived that three others were with him in the heat, but Mott, whom he most feared, was not among the number. That was a source of some consolation, and his hope increased that he might at least win a place in the finals.As the pistol was fired, Will darted forward from the line, but in a moment the runners were recalled and Will was penalized a yard for his undue eagerness. Grimly he took his place this time a yard behind the line and when the start was again made he sped down the track as if he was possessed of the speed of the wind. Easily he was the first to touch the tape, but when unmindful of the cheers of his classmates he turned aside to don once more his bath robe, Wagner approached and shaking his head, laughed as he said, "You forgot what I told you, freshman."
"What was that?"
"Not to run your best in the heat. You want something left for the finals."
"I couldn't help it," said Will grimly. "What was the time?"
"Ten, two."
Nothing more was said as they all turned to watch the runners in the other heats. Mott with apparent ease won his, and Ogden won the third. The final was to be run off between the three winners and Will stretched himself upon the grass to gain such rest as he could obtain before the supreme test arrived.
Other events were now run off and a half-hour elapsed before the final heat was called. "You'll get your place on the team anyway, Will," said Foster encouragingly.
"I'm not so sure of that."
"I am. I heard Wagner say that three would be taken on the team for the sprints, and even if you come in last you'll be sure of a place."
"I don't know. I don't want to come in last."
"Don't, then," laughed Foster as he reached forth his hand for his room-mate's bath robe. Once more Will stood on the line and this time there would be no "sneaking," he assured himself. Somehow the keenness of his previous excitement was gone now and he was almost as calm as if he had been a spectator and not a participant in the contest. He was none the less resolved to do his utmost and when the pistol at last was fired he leaped from the mark with every nerve and muscle tense. A silence rested over all as the three runners came swiftly up the track. Will could feel rather than see that he was ahead of Ogden, but Mott was still in advance of him, and do what he might he did not seem to be able to cut down that yard by which Mott was leading. Swiftly the racers sped on and soon Will could see that the end of the course had almost been gained. Only fifteen yards remained to be covered, and then by one supreme effort Will called upon all his reserve powers and with what the college paper afterward described as a "magnificent burst of speed," he cut down Mott's lead and a moment later the two runners struck the tape exactly together.
A mighty shout arose from the assembled students and Foster and Hawley both of whom were usually so self-contained ran out and threw their arms about the neck of their classmate. The enthusiasm increased when the time was announced as "ten, one." and Wagner came forward his face beaming and his hand outstretched as he said: "You did it, freshman! I knew you could, and I knew you would."
Words of praise had never sounded sweeter in Will's ears. He had won a place on the team and that coveted honor at least was his.
His interest in the trials was mostly ended now and he returned to the dressing rooms, where he donned his ordinary garb and then rejoined his fellows. Their congratulations were sweet in his ears and the very appearance of the beautiful valley to him seemed to have changed. He had won and the stimulus of success was his.
In the month that followed Will found himself excessively busy. He took his meals now with the team at the training table and every day there was work to be done on the track. And it was hard work too. But the demands were almost forgotten in the elation which filled the heart of the young student. His father's warm words of congratulation were prized most of all, but Will felt that he did not require the caution which his father gave him not to permit his success in athletics to interfere with his work for the classroom. Even "Splinter's" demands had lost a part of their unreasonableness, or so it seemed to Will, and even the detested Greek could be mastered under the glow of success that was his.
At last the eventful day arrived when the meet between the colleges was to be held. Will had worked so hard and so faithfully that he was not without hopes of winning some points for his college and he was aware how much they were needed and how eager all the student body was that the cup might come to Winthrop. Mott was the only one who had appeared to be at all envious of him, but as Will had heard that the sophomore had been careless in his training and there had been reports that Mott and Peter John had been drinking heavily again, he felt that he could well afford to ignore the slights. And in his heart he knew that he was sincere when he declared to himself that if he could not win he heartily wished that Mott might, for Winthrop would be the gainer in either event.
The team had been taken to the city where the meet was to be held, on the day preceding the contest, and that night at the hotel Will endeavored again to follow the advice of Wagner and secure a good sleep. But his excitement and the novelty of his surroundings and thoughts of the impending meet were too keen to be entirely overcome by the young freshman, and on the following morning his heart was somewhat heavy and his fears increased.
When at last the hour arrived when the team, in a huge coach, was taken to the field, a measure of calm had returned to him and as he looked out over the great assembly his interest became intense. Students from the various colleges had been assigned sections in the bleachers and streamers and banners with the huge initial letter of the college emblazoned upon them were much in evidence. The colors of the competing colleges were also to be seen among the spectators and with shouts and cheers and songs to be heard on every side Will felt that this was the supreme moment of his life. He stood gazing at the inspiring sight until he felt a touch on his shoulder that caused him quickly to turn about.
"Why, pop!" he exclaimed delightedly as he perceived who it was that had touched him. "I didn't have the remotest idea that you were here."
"I had to come to see what my boy would do," replied Mr. Phelps quietly.
"I'm afraid you won't see much."
"I shall see him do his best, and that's worth the trip."
"Come on, freshman!" interrupted Mott approaching. "It's time to dress."
Will grasped his father's hand for a moment and then hastened to follow the other members of the Winthrop team who were making their way to their quarters.
"Alden is going to win all the sprints," said Mott glumly while they were dressing.
"If they're the best runners they will," assented Will who despite his eagerness was now in good spirits.
"Wagner has figured it out and says if they do win the sprints they'll take the cup."
Will made no response though he knew that if Wagner had indeed said that, then the college would look to Mott and to himself to do their best. No praise would be too high if they should succeed, and no blame too severe if they should fail. And his own determination and desire to win for a moment faltered. What could he in his first great contest hope to do?
The appearance of the team on the field was greeted by a wild shout from the Winthrop contingent. The team was cheered and every member of it also was cheered by name. The entire scene was certainly inspiring and Will's determination returned more strongly than before. The first event was the four hundred and forty yard dash in which Alden received first and Winthrop second. In the one hundred and twenty yard hurdles the order was reversed, and so the record continued through the two-twenty, the two-twenty hurdles, the eight hundred and eighty yards run. The field events were also being carried out at the same time and with very similar results. Alden was second in the shot put and Winthrop second in the running high jump while neither scored in throwing the hammer nor in the running broad jump. But again Winthrop was first in throwing the discus, but Alden was first in the pole vault; and so the points scored by each of the two rivals remained the same when at last came the trials in the hundred yards dash, which as we know was the event in which Will Phelps and Mott were entered. The color had fled from Will's face and he was hardly conscious of the shouts or presence of the great assembly when he advanced to the line, for he was to run in the first heat. Thirty-two men were entered for the race and there were to be six heats, only the winners in each to qualify for the finals.
"You've nobody to fear here," whispered Wagner encouragingly. "Take it easy.""I'll have to come in first if I get in the finals."
"Yes, but you can do it all right."
Wagner slipped back and the seven young men took their places on the line. When the pistol was fired Will darted forward and held the lead all the way, touching the tape first of all.
Wagner again was there to receive him and as Will fell into his arms he turned quickly and said. "What was the time?"
"They'll announce it in a minute," replied Wagner compelling his friend to don his robe. When the time was announced as "ten three," Will's heart sank, but Wagner laughed gleefully as he said, "Good! That's the way to do it. You've got some reserve left."
Will Phelps was not so confident, but he turned eagerly to watch the other contestants. Mott won his heat in ten two, each of two heats was won by an Alden man in the same time, and the fifth heat was won by a man from a smaller college of whom no one expected much and who was but slightly feared.
The mile run, the two mile run, and the half-mile were run off while the sprinters were waiting for their finals and the excitement became intense when it was known that the score of Winthrop and Alden was exactly the same. Everything now depended upon the result of the finals in the hundred yards dash.
"Phelps, you must get it!" whispered Wagner whose face was as pale as that of the freshman. Will did not reply and at once took his place beside his four competitors.
"On your marks!" called the starter, and the silence that rested over the field became intense.
"Get set!" A sigh seemed to rise from the assembly and all were standing.
"Go!" The crack of the pistol was heard and instantly the runners were speeding down the track.
The day was warm and Will Phelps could feel that his face was as wet as if he had plunged in the river. Never in all his young life had he exerted himself as then. The tread of the running feet on the track seemed almost like that of one man. On and on they sped, no one looking to the right or left. Whether he was winning or not, Will was unable to determine. He knew that all five were "bunched," for he could feel and hear the others near him. The deafening shouts and the shrill calls and cries sounded faint and dim in his ears. He could see the officials standing near the end of the course—an end that seemed far away for all that the runners were so swiftly approaching.
Nearer and nearer the runners drew and the shouts increased in violence. Every one in the assembly was standing erect and leaning forward, breathless with interest. Fifteen, ten, then only five yards remained. With one supreme effort Will darted ahead. He felt the tape, and not knowing whether he had won or not he plunged into the outstretched arms of Wagner.
For a moment everything was dim about him and there was a sound as of a roaring in his ears. Then above the din he heard the wild shout of the Winthrop boys and he heard Wagner say, "The cup's ours, Phelps! We've got it! We've won it!"
"Was I first?" inquired Will simply.
"No, second."
"I don't see then. Who did win?"
"Crafts from Tech was first and you were second and the Alden man third," said Wagner hilariously. "You put us two points ahead of Alden! You've won your 'W' and we've got the cup!"
Before Will could respond a body of the Winthrop boys made a rush upon him and lifting him upon their shoulders advanced to the middle of the field followed by the entire body of their fellow-students. Then in fantastic steps and winding column they marched about the field, singing their college songs and uniting in their college yell for the team and for Phelps again and again. The interested spectators stopped and watched the proceedings until at last the team returned to their dressing rooms and the day was done.
On the return to Winthrop Will was seated beside his father, and as they drew near the college town Mr. Phelps, who was not to stop, but was at once going home, said: "Well, Will, what of the year? It's done now."
"Yes," responded Will simply. "It's not been so bad."
"What about the Greek?"
"Oh, Splinter's not half-bad either," laughed Will. "I think I'll go down and see him before I come home.""I should. And you're not sorry that you didn't give up to Greek?"
"Not a bit."
"And you think winning the 'hundred' to-day is worth it all?"
"It isn't that. It's the feeling that I haven't given up. Of course I'm glad to get my 'W' and I was mighty sorry not to get my numerals. But this makes up for it. I'm glad I won out for myself and more for the college. I tell you, pop, Winthrop is the best college in the world!"
"And you wouldn't like to leave now?"
"Leave? Well, I guess not!"
"I hear that Peter John is not to come back," said Mr. Phelps soberly.
"Why not?"
"I can't say. I don't even know that he is not to return. I have heard it, that's all; but I fancy you know more about it than I."
Will was silent till the train was near Winthrop. "Well, Will," said his father, breaking in, "I'm to leave you here. Do you want to know what I value most in your year's work?"
"What is it?"
"That you've learned how to work. When a man learns that, much of the problem of his life is solved. Some men run from hardness, some endure it, and some overcome it."
"It hasn't been so hard."
Mr. Phelps smiled but all he said was, "Good-bye, Will, we'll look for you soon at home. I think you've made a good investment this year."
"In what?" inquired Will in surprise.
But his father only smiled and grasped his son's hand for a moment and soon the train pulled out from the little station; but as long as the crowd of students, noisy, boisterous, happy, could be seen as they moved up the street he watched them with shining eyes. Then as he resumed his seat he thoughtfully said to himself, "Yes, Will has learned it. I did not know for a time whether he would or not. But he has and I don't think Splinter, or Mott, or Peter John, or anything, or any one can take it away from him now."
And he resumed the reading of his evening paper, while the noisy train sped on bearing him farther and farther from Winthrop, but the Winthrop college boy was nearer to him all the time.
THE END
BOOKS FOR BOYS
The High School Boys Series
H. Irving Hancock
These intensely active young men, known to their thousands of loyal readers as Dick and Co., lead the vanguard in scholarship as well as in athletic activities. A vigorous breezy spirit of outdoor life permeates the entire series.
The High School Freshman
The High School Pitcher
The High School Left End
The High School Captain of the Team
The High School Boys Vacation Series
H. Irving Hancock
Outdoor sports are the keynote of these four wonderful volumes. Led again by the adventurous Dick & Co., you will thrill and chuckle as you live their many adventures and pranks with them.
The High School Boys Canoe Club
The High School Boys in Summer Camp
The High School Boys Fishing Trip
The High School Boys Training Hike
The Camp and Trail Series
Red-blooded stories of woods and waters. Running trap-lines or driving a canoe through treacherous waters. The companionship of dog, gun, and guide and the tantalizing smell of food cooking over a campfire mingling its aroma with the pungent odor of fragrant pines. It's all found in Camp and Trail Series.
| A Boy Trapper | Castlemon |
| Chums in the Big Woods | Allen |
| Canoe Mates in Canada | Rathborne |
| Camp Mates in Michigan | Rathborne |
The Airplane Boys Series
By John Luther Langworthy
An intensely interesting series for boys who feel the call of the clouds. If you would revel in stirring tales of thrilling adventures along the wind-swept skyways then read the Airplane Boys Series.
Airplane Boys and the Phantom Plane
Airplane Boys Among the Clouds
Airplane Boys on the Wing
Airplane Boys Flights
Airplane Boys
The Success Series
Here are inspiring stories of real boys. Filled with enthusiasm, resourcefulness and an indomitable determination to overcome all difficulties. Boys who start from the bottom, with their eyes firmly fixed on the president's chair, finally achieve success.
| Two Boy Publishers | Chapman |
| Young Express Agent | Chapman |
| A Business Boy's Pluck | Chapman |
| Darewell Chums in the City | Chapman |
For sale at all Booksellers or sent Postpaid on receipt of 40 cents.
M.A. DONOHUE & COMPANY
711 SOUTH DEARBORN STREET, CHICAGO