THE GREAT DAY
It was Wednesday at last.
Time had dragged fearfully to all the young people in Columbia; and
doubtless the same could be said of Clifford and Bellport, during those
last two days of school.
The annual examinations would soon be coming on, so that it was just as
well that the great athletic meet should be carried through before this
period of stress.
And it was a glorious day, too, with a clear sky, and not too hot for
the strenuous work which those young athletes expected to engage in.
All morning vehicles kept coming into the town of Columbia, some of
them from great distances, and containing entire families. The former
meetings of the three rival schools in various contests had resulted in
such thrilling scenes that their fame had gone far afield; consequently
farmers hitched up, and gave the entire day to merry-making with their
families.
As afternoon came along the crowds began to flock out along the road
leading to the field where Columbia always held these events. As has
been stated before, this was about a mile from town, and somewhat down
the river, the trolley from Bellport, which was being extended to
Clifford at the time, leaving loads of eager spectators at a point near
the grounds.
An hour before the time set for the start of the exercises it seemed as
though every seat in the grand-stand was taken; and even the bleachers
had overflowed into the field. Apparently the day would see such a
throng as Columbia had never before drawn together in all her history.
Young athletes were as plentiful as blackberries in August. They could
be seen here, there, and everywhere; some exercising to keep in trim
for the coming of the event in which they expected to take part; others
conferring with the coach, or chatting with groups of admiring friends.
It was a poor contestant who did not have at least a few devoted
adherents, who declared it to be their honest opinion that he was bound
to make all the others in the same event “look like thirty cents,” as
they were fond of putting it.
Lanky was the center of a great deal of attention. After his
phenomenal run of the trial day, he was looked upon as the one best
hope of Columbia in the long race, which some of the boys called a
Marathon, though it could be hardly classed under that head.
Of course they still had faith in Frank Allen and Bones Shadduck,
either one of whom they believed could win in case any unlucky accident
happened that would cripple the long-legged racer, who looked like a
greyhound as he stepped so lightly around among his fellow students.
Clifford and Bellport had their legions present. They seemed to mass
together as a rule, so that they might make the most noise, and thus
encourage their respective candidates for high honors.
The noise began to be deafening, what with boys yelling; horns tooting;
girls singing their class songs; and automobiles honking merrily, as
they came in shoals, to leave their passengers or secure positions
where the latter could sit still, and see all that was going on.
Chief Hogg was there, and looking spick and span in a new uniform,
with his silver shield glittering as splendidly as a newly polished
decoration could appear. He had his assistants all in line; and in
addition there were a dozen deputy sheriffs sworn in for the occasion
by the high official who graced the meet with his presence.
Once upon a time there had been nearly a riot come about at one of
these athletic affairs, caused by some turbulent spirits; and the
committee in charge had determined to leave no stone unturned on this
occasion to prevent a recurrence of that sad event, when several heads
were broken by flying stones.
Roderick Seymour, who was said to have been the best leader Columbia
ever had, was taking charge of things on this particular day, having
come home from the city, where he was in business, especially to see
Columbia boys once more show their mettle, and to hear again that
slogan:
“Ho! ho! ho! hi! hi! hi! _veni! vidi! vici!_ we came, we saw, we
conquered! Columbia! Rah!”
Ah! how it must have thrilled that graduate, as he listened again
to it pealing from the throats of the score or two of boys whom the
cheer captain, Herman Hooker, was leading in the concerted shout! What
memories it must have awakened in the mind of Roderick Seymour, who
during his four years in the school had always held the respect of
every boy worth knowing, as a lover of clean sport, and of a square
deal. It was surely worth coming two hundred miles just to see such
inspiring sights, and listen to that battle cry of Columbia as she
again faced her bitter rivals of Bellport and Clifford, always eager to
make her athletes take their dust.
“Hello! Frank!” was the way Lanky greeted his chum, whom he had not
seen that day up to the minute they met.
“You’re feeling pretty perky, I reckon, Lanky,” remarked the other,
smiling as he saw the look of confidence upon the thin face of the tall
runner.
“Never felt better in my life, Frank; and if I fall down to-day I ought
to quit trying the long-distance act. But, Frank, if you happen to run
across a messenger boy who looks like he was huntin’ somebody, just
remember me; won’t you?”
“What’s up?” questioned Frank, laughing at the earnest air of his
friend.
“Why, you see, I just got a hunch that there might a telegram come for
me while the meet was takin’ place,” Lanky explained; “and so I told
Conrad at the station that if so be anything came buzzing along the
wires, meant for Lanky Wallace, he ought to send a messenger down here
on the jump with it.”
“And did he promise he would?” asked Frank.
“Huh! he just had to,” grunted Lanky. “Why, right now there isn’t a
feller in all Columbia that’d dare deny me anything I wanted. Conrad
said he’s bound to do it, because he’s been and heard that like as not
I’m goin’ to be the one that’ll win the long-distance run; and somehow
they all think that, Frank, just because I had that little spurt the
other day, you know.”
“Well,” said Frank, impressively, “just you see that you have another
of the same kind to-day; and make those people from Bellport and
Clifford take notice. They’ve made a lot of changes in their runners
from last season, and think they’ve got it in for poor old Columbia.
That’s the way they talk, Lanky; but some of the boys were here to see
you come in Saturday, and _they_ know better.”
“Yes, I hear that Coddling, their old pitcher in Bellport, has
blossomed out something in the phenom class as a long-distance runner;
and I guess, Frank, that we’ll have to keep an eye on that tricky old
scout more’n anybody else.”
“Don’t be too sure of that. There’s a new fellow up in Clifford that
they say never gets tired, and can come in from a ten-mile skip without
hardly a hair turned. That may be just talk, or as you say, hot air;
but, Lanky, don’t be over-confident. It’s all well enough to be _sure_
you can win; but never let up in your pace because you think you’ve got
the thing cinched. A swift runner may dash past you in a second, and
after that it’s up to you to get him! because he sets the pace, not
you.”
“Frank, it’s mighty good of you giving me these pointers, and you going
to be a runner in the long race, too.”
“Oh! whether I win, or you, or Bones, makes little difference to me,
so long as the Columbia purple and gold crosses the line first. That’s
what we call school loyalty, you know, Lanky. Of course it’s always
fine to be the one to get all the cheer, but first of all the school!
But there goes the head man of the committee climbing the band stand.
The music’s stopped, so I reckon the games are going to begin pretty
quick now.”
After the great throng could be quieted down, the heavy voice of the
gentleman who had agreed to serve as the head of the arrangements
committee started to address the thousands gathered in that field
devoted to boys’ sports.
As briefly as possible he explained what clean athletic games would do
for the maintenance of health in the bodies of those engaging in them
up to a reasonable limit; and also what grand times the three schools
had had in the past. He congratulated the people of the towns lying
along the Harrapin that there had been so little unpleasant friction
in the past; and expressed the hope that the present meeting of their
representative young athletes would further cement the bonds of good
fellowship among the boys of Columbia, Clifford and Bellport.
After the hearty cheers had subsided he started again to tell of the
various contests that had been arranged, as well as to mention a list
of prizes donated by the leading merchants of the three places, and
which would be awarded to the winners in the numerous events.
Then the first contest was called, and immediately everybody in that
great throng became intensely interested.
It was a fifty-yard dash; and there were just nine contestants; since
the limit had been placed at three for each school.
In this tournament it had been wisely decided to let each contest stand
on its own merits. There were just seventeen events, and as each would
count just one point, the school winning a plurality of these prizes
would be adjudged the grand champion for the season in track and field
athletics.
In this way even the absurd sack race would count just as much as the
ten-mile run. But what was fair for one was fair for all, and there was
no grumbling because of these arrangements.
As their event was scheduled to come off at the very last of the meet,
Frank and Larry could take things easy, while waiting for the time to
arrive when the long-distance race would be called.
“Have you noticed that quite a lot of our dark-faced friends of the
gypsy camp are present?” Lanky asked his chum, as they stood waiting
for the crack of the pistol which would send the sprinters on their
furious rush over the short distance that had been marked out for them.
“Yes, and I saw a couple talking with a farmer,” replied Frank,
laughing. “Guess they’ve got a dicker on with him, from the way they
acted. Say, they’ll be glad they took your advice, and held over here.
Perhaps they’ll do the biggest day’s business ever. Look at that
Clifford football snapback, will you? They say he’s winged lightning on
the short dash; and I want to see if it’s so.”
“Well, the referee is gettin’ ready to send the bunch off, so keep your
good eye peeled on him then; because if he can go that fast, we might
lose sight of him altogether. Wow! they’re off, Frank! That was a great
start, I tell you!”