WHAT THE COLLEGE THOUGHT.
Rattleton and Diamond came up and joined the crowd. They had heard of
Frank being dropped from the team, but neither of them would take any
stock in it till they heard it from Merry’s lips. Rattleton was wildly
excited.
“Who’s been telling this lundering barn about you?” he cried. “No, I
mean who has been telling this blundering yarn? Of course, it is a
wretched lie! They say Lorrimer has laid you off.”
“Well, it strikes me that the yarn is true,” said Frank.
“True?” gasped Jack.
“Whee jiz!” spluttered Harry.
Then they were speechless.
“Lorrimer is daffy,” declared Puss Parker.
“He must have a grudge against Yale,” said Phil Porter.
“Merriwell,” hissed Diamond, his cheeks flushed and his eyes flashing,
“are you going to stand it?”
“I’ll have to,” said Frank.
“Not by a blame sight! We’ll get up an indignation meeting. We can
make it mighty hot for Lorrimer. We’ll show him that he can’t carry
things with such a high hand.”
“Don’t!” exclaimed Frank. “I wouldn’t have you do that.”
“Why not?”
“It would be raising a rumpus at the wrong time.”
“How?”
“Everything must go peaceably till the game with Harvard is over, or
Yale gets it in the neck again this year. We can’t have that.”
“Are you willing to be a sacrifice just――――”
“I am willing――for the good of Old Eli.”
“But it’s not for the good of Old Eli! It means our defeat, and
anybody knows that!”
“Oh, come off! Somebody else who can play football just as well as I
will fill my place.”
“Lot on your knife――I mean not on your life!” exploded Harry. “They
don’t grow!”
“That’s all foolishness,” said Frank. “There are plenty of men just as
good.”
“Well, why don’t they make the record?” put in Diamond, his
indignation making him look handsomer than ever. “Tell us just how it
came about, Frank.”
“Well, I suppose Lorrimer will say I was talking too much. What I said
was for the good of the eleven.”
“What did you say?”
“I said that the men were being overtrained, and it was making them
heavy and slow, which is the absolute truth, but a fellow on the
eleven is supposed to keep his mouth shut and play ball. That’s why I
was jumped on.”
“There is something behind this. There was another reason for it.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I do!”
“Well,” said Merry, “if it will open the eyes of Lorrimer so that
he’ll treat the men with more judgment, Yale will stand a better
chance of winning, even though I am not on the team. It is ruin to put
a lot of overworked men into a game like the one coming.”
“If Yale wins, there will be some chumps who will swear that it was
because you were put off the team,” said Harry. “That will be a
splendid thing, now, won’t it?”
“There always are men to say nasty things, no matter what happens,”
observed Frank.
“Well,” said the Virginian, “if you are not on the team, I’m going to
hedge my bets.”
“Have you been making bets?”
“Yes.”
“Put up much?”
“Well, I’ve staked something, and I got odds, too. I considered it
like finding money; but now I have changed my mind.”
“Wait!” Merriwell advised. “There will be plenty of time to hedge
before the game.”
“Don’t fool yourself! By the time it gets abroad that you’re not going
to play, the odds will be five to one on Harvard. And it will be known
all over the country to-morrow.”
While they were talking a poorly dressed old woman came along the
slippery sidewalk. As soon as they noticed her, some of the students
cried:
“Here is Mother Muggs, fellows.”
Instantly the body of the group shifted their attention to the old
woman. They began making observations about her, and she gave them a
look of rage.
“You are a pack of young reprobates!” she cried shrilly. “You are
learning the ways of criminals and ruffians!”
“Mother Muggs loves us――not!” laughed Parker.
The old woman was well known to the students. She had taken a strong
aversion to them, and she did not hesitate to express herself on any
convenient occasion. Her flow of language was sharp and stinging, and
she had brought the college men to the point of guying her
unmercifully whenever occasion offered. Frank Merriwell said nothing.
He did not believe in taking part in the guying of the old woman, even
though he knew of her hatred for the students and the manner in which
she sometimes seemed to go out of her way in order to snarl at them.
“Are you promenading for your health, Mother Muggs?” asked one
laughing fellow.
“Or are you displaying the latest style in Parisian clothes?” said
another.
“Dogs! vipers! whelps!” cried the old woman, shaking her fist at them.
Then her feet flew from beneath her on the slippery walk, and she fell
with a thud that must have sorely shaken her old bones. The
thoughtless fellows laughed at the unfortunate woman, with the
exception of Merriwell. He did not laugh. Instead of that, he hurried
from the crowd to the side of Mother Muggs, who seemed to be in pain.
“I am sorry, madam,” he said, with the utmost politeness, as he aided
her to rise, fairly lifting her to her feet, doing it as tenderly as
if she had been his own mother. “I hope you are not hurt?”
The poor woman groaned and seemed unable to stand. She would have
fallen, but Frank Merriwell placed his arm about her and supported
her.
“Oh, my hip!” she gasped.
“I’m afraid you are hurt!” he cried, genuine concern in his voice.
“What do you care?” she faintly said.
“I do care! I’m sorry! What can I do for you?”
“Let me alone!”
“But you cannot stand. I must assist you. Please permit me to, madam.”
Never before had one of those saucy college men spoken to her in such
a manner, and she was filled with wonder.
“Arc you one of them college scamps?” she asked.
“I am a college man,” answered Frank, “but I hope I am not a scamp.”
“They’re all scamps! Oh, my hip!”
“I’m afraid you cannot walk. I will call a cab to take you home.”
“A cab! I can’t pay for a cab! I can’t ride in a cab!”
“I will attend to the paying for it. Here, Rattleton.”
Harry came out from the group of students, who were not laughing now,
but were looking on in wonder, which was not unmixed with shame.
“Call a cab, Rattleton,” directed Frank. “This poor woman has hurt
herself, and she cannot walk.”
Harry hastened away to procure a cab, with which he quickly returned.
Then Frank Merriwell actually lifted the withered old woman in his
strong arms and placed her inside the cab. She seemed almost as light
as a feather to him, and he felt his heart throb with pity for her.
“Don’t put me in there and leave me to pay!” pleaded the woman. “I
ain’t got no money, and the driver would have me arrested.”
“Don’t worry about that,” said Frank. “I will attend to it. Where do
you live?”
She told him, and he gave the driver directions, after which he turned
to Rattleton, saying:
“Come, let’s see her home, old man. Get in.”
They both got into the cab with Mother Muggs, the door slammed, and
the cab rolled away, leaving a dozen college men staring after it,
silent, shamefaced, awed.
They had been given a glimpse of Frank Merriwell’s heart!
There was excitement on the campus late that frosty November
afternoon. At the fence a great crowd of men had gathered, and the
topic they were discussing was the dropping of Frank Merriwell from
the eleven. Of course, Rupert Chickering’s set was delighted.
Chickering himself, with his usual double-faced hypocrisy, pretended
to be grieved.
“I know Merriwell does not like me,” he said; “but I am very sorry for
him, just the same. He has worked hard to get onto the eleven, and it
does seem too bad for him to be put off just before the great game of
the season, even though there may be better men.”
“Rats!” exclaimed Gene Skelding, who did not hesitate to show his
dislike for Merry. “You know you are satisfied over it.”
“Indeed, now!” protested Rupert, posing with his cane. “Why should I
be? If Merriwell is a good man to have on the eleven, if he could
materially assist us in defeating Harvard, I should like to see him
play, regardless of any personal spite he may hold against me.”
“Well, I’m glad he’s got it in the neck!” laughed Julian Ives, pushing
his hat back in order to more fully expose his flowing bang.
“And I am not breaking my heart over it,” said Tilton Hull, who seemed
to have found a collar that was even higher than the wonderfully high
ones he wore habitually.
“He is a big, wude cwecher,” lisped Lew Veazie, “and he hath met with
hith jutht reward.”
“It came just when we least expected it,” put in Ollie Lord, rising on
his toes, so that he might be observed. “Everything seemed going
Merriwell’s way.”
“I wonder who will be given Merriwell’s place?” speculated Hull.
“I have heard,” said Skelding, “that Birch will take that position,
while that freshman Ready will be taken onto the team.”
“He’s little better than Merriwell,” declared Ives. “He has a swelled
head.”
“That’s because he fooled Merriwell and made him the butt of a joke,
you know,” said Hull. “It was a pretty clever thing. It was lucky for
us that we were not invited to take part in the hazing of the
freshman.”
“I should think,” said Chickering, “that they would try Badger at
full-back. He’s a great man.”
“Don’t speak of that fellow!” snarled Skelding. “What ails you? Have
you forgotten that he has repudiated us? He won’t have a thing to do
with us now! I don’t think much more of him than I do of Frank
Merriwell!”
“Well, I’m right glad of that!” said a voice that made them jump, and
they saw Badger standing near, regarding them with an expression of
contempt. “You’re a rank lot, and I haven’t any use for you whatever.”
“You were glad enough to be friends with us once,” said Chickering,
with a show of resentment. “You have even borrowed money of me.”
Badger took two steps that brought him face to face with Rupert.
“Did I pay it?” he demanded fiercely.
“Why――yes, of course!” exclaimed Chickering hastily.
“Well, if you ever mention it again, I reckon I’ll have to soak you!”
came from the Westerner. “I’d hate to hit a thing like you, but there
is a limit. Keep your mouth shut!”
“Don’t let him bully you!” cried Skelding. “He’s the kind of fellow to
pretend to hate Merriwell, but, now Merriwell has got the best of him
a few times, he’s ready to crawl round and bow down before his
conqueror.”
“You’re a prevaricator, by the clock!” said the Kansas man promptly.
“Because I cut clear of you does not make it that I’m ready to pick up
with Merriwell. We are enemies still.”
“You’re the one who is still,” chuckled Ollie Lord, dodging behind
Skelding. “You don’t dare open your mouth to Merriwell any more.”
“You’re not worth noticing, you imitation of a man!” broke from
Badger. “If there is anything in the world that can make me cease to
hate Merriwell it will be because you chaps hate him so much.”
Badger’s words had been spoken rather loudly, and now Chickering noted
that a crowd was gathering, and he began to feel that it was time to
close up. He gave the others the tip to do so, and backed out of the
crowd himself.
Somebody asked Badger what he thought about Merriwell being dropped.
“Say,” cried the Westerner, “whatever do you take me for? I reckon
it’s pretty generally known that I’m no friend of his. That being the
case, my opinion would not amount to shucks.”
“He knows enough not to talk as much as Merriwell,” said somebody.
“Who says Merriwell talks too much?” roared Bruce Browning. “He’s one
of the closest-mouthed fellows living.”
“Well, he talked so much to-day that he got it in the neck.”
“That’s all right. Somebody had to talk. The team is being worked to
death. Anybody that knows anything about football knows that. The men
know it, but Merriwell was the first and only one who has dared say
so.”
“Hurrah! hurrah!” cried the students. “What’s the matter with Frank
Merriwell?”
“He’s all right!” thundered a great chorus of voices.
Somebody, wishing to arouse another expression of sentiment, cried:
“What’s the matter with Steve Lorrimer?”
Quick as a flash, Danny Griswold squealed:
“He’s got bugs in his garret!”
This aroused laughter and applause. All kinds of talk was made on the
campus that night. Merriwell was discussed from a hundred different
standpoints. The great majority of the students were friendly toward
him, and they were highly indignant over the manner in which he had
been treated.
A knot of Frank’s admirers gathered and told anecdotes about him. One
of them related how, that very day, after being dropped from the
eleven, he had lifted old Mother Muggs from the slippery sidewalk and
carried her home in a cab.
“That’s not all he did, fellows,” said a voice.
Harry Rattleton was there. He pushed into the center of the crowd.
“I went with him,” said Harry. “He took the old woman home and carried
her into her house in his arms, for she could not walk. He sent me for
a doctor. When I got back, he was doing his best to cheer up the old
lady and her dying daughter.”
“Has Mother Muggs a daughter?” some one asked.
“Yes, and it’s plain she was a stunning-looking girl once. She’s sick
in bed, and there was not a spark of fire in the house nor a bit of
food.”
“Tough lines!”
“You bet! But all that’s fixed now. Merriwell fixed it. He went out
and ordered coal and wood and groceries, and had them sent round in a
hurry. Then we went to another store, and he bought blankets and
quilts to put on the bed to keep the poor dying girl warm. We carried
back an armful of stuff. When we got there we found the doctor. Merry
told him to care for Mother Muggs and her daughter and forked over a
tenner in advance to pay.”
“Well, what’s the matter with Merriwell?” cried somebody, and again
the crowd shouted:
“He’s all right!”
“You can bet your life he is!” said Harry proudly. “You should have
seen him building a fire in the old stove, heating a can of broth, and
then feeding the sick girl himself. Fellows, I’ve known Frank
Merriwell a long time, and I always knew he was all right; but I tell
you I watched him with amazement down in that wretched hovel. I saw
him fixing things round and making everything cheerful. I saw him
jollying up the poor girl till she laughed. He was as tender as a
woman down there, and everybody here knows that he’s strong as a lion
on the football-field. And old Mother Muggs was so astonished that all
she could say was, “Land, land, who’d ‘a’ thought it!’ He made that
old woman and her dying girl happy to-night, and he told them he’d
come again and see that they were comfortable. He’ll do it, too. They
kicked him off the eleven to-day, but I’ll bet that to-night he’s
happier than any of those who remain.”
Harry spoke earnestly, and his words impressed the listeners. If a
single enemy of Frank Merriwell was present, he was silenced.
“Fellows,” said Parker, “there’s a light in Merriwell’s window. He
must be in his room. Let’s go over and whoop her up under his window.
Let’s show the blockheads who are against him what we think of him!”
“Come on!” was the cry.
Across the campus they swept. Word was passed around about what was
going to happen, and it was a great crowd of college men that gathered
beneath Merry’s window. Then somebody roared out a proposal for three
cheers for Frank Merriwell, “the best man who ever made a touch-down.”
And what a mighty cheer it was! They thundered their applause till the
bare branches of the old elms quivered with the sound. Again and again
they cheered.
At last the window was thrown open, and Frank appeared. What a
greeting he received! It must have made his heart thrill! It must have
made his eyes moist!
After a time, the crowd became quiet, and Frank spoke:
“Thank you,” he said, with a husky sound in his voice. “I don’t know
just why you are cheering like that, but――――”
“We’re cheering for the whitest man in college and the best
football-player living!” shouted somebody.
“That’s putting it pretty strong,” laughed Frank.
“But not a bit too strong,” came back instantly. “They’ve put up a job
on you, Merriwell, but we won’t stand for it!”
“No,” said Frank, “I do not think it was a job, boys. Steve Lorrimer
is a true-blue Yale man, and he wouldn’t stoop to anything like that.
Whatever he has done, I am sure he did because he believes it is for
the best interest of Old Eli.”
“Then he’s such a chump that he isn’t fit to manage a tennis
tournament!” squealed Bink Stubbs.
“No matter what may happen to me,” said Merry, “I shall pray for the
success of Yale, and nothing can hurt me worse than her defeat on
Thanksgiving day. If she wins, fellows, we’ll have a glorious
Thanksgiving. Good night, my friends――good night!”
He pulled down the window and was gone, but they lingered to give him
another rousing cheer, and long after that groups of men could be seen
on the campus, discussing and denouncing the action of Lorrimer.