WINNING THE PRIZE
Serge Belcofsky had departed early in the year, and Alaska was lost
sight of by most of the New London boys amid the throng of more
immediate, and to them important, interests that crowded thick and fast
into their lives. These were Billy Bow’s birthday party, the opening of
the gymnasium, the launch of the new yacht, theatricals for the library
fund, the last skating-match of the season, and a score of other things
demanding their undivided attention. Phil Ryder managed to take some
part in all of these, though he was by no means so active nor so much
of a leader as formerly. That Alaska trip was to him a living reality,
and he was striving for it with all his might. Some of the other
fellows were provoked that he should neglect sports, in which he had so
excelled, for the mere purpose of studying, while there was still so
much time left in which to attend to that.
“There are two whole months yet before graduation,” argued Al Snyder
one day, when he was vainly endeavoring to persuade Phil to undertake
the coaching of the nine. “Two whole months! And yet here you are
grinding away as though examinations were to begin to-morrow. Catch me
working like that!”
“Oh yes, you would,” laughed Phil, “if you had the prize held out to
you that I have.”
“Pshaw!” ejaculated Al. “You know you can go on that trip no matter
where you stand. Your governor only put it that way to try and make you
work a little harder. It’s just one of his tricks. They’re all up to
them.”
“It is nothing of the kind!” retorted Phil, hotly. “And you don’t know
what you are talking about when you speak in that way of my father. He
never said anything in his life that he didn’t mean. If I am _inside_
of number five I’ll go to Alaska, and if I’m not, I won’t. That’s all
there is about it. But I mean to be inside, and as I can’t make sure of
that and watch the nine at the same time, you see it is impossible for
me to do what you want.”
So Phil stuck to his books, and all of a sudden there came a letter
from Mr. Ryder stating that, as his work was drawing to a close sooner
than he had expected, and as he was more desirous than ever of having
his son visit the wonderful country in which he was located, Phil might
come out to him at once, without waiting to graduate, provided he stood
better than number five in all his classes.
Here was a startling proposition! Did he stand better than five
everywhere? The boy rapidly ran over his position in his several
classes. He was within the magic number everywhere except in
mathematics, and there he stood at exactly five.
“I could have stood better than five there too, if I had not given my
chance to hump-backed Jimmy, the other day,” he reflected, though he
was too honorable a fellow to even have hinted at such a thing aloud.
He knew it, and he thought Jimmy himself knew it, for he had seen a
quick flush rise to the cripple’s pale cheek when it happened; but he
didn’t believe any one else did, nor did he intend they should. Still,
what could he do under the circumstances? He was not _inside_ of number
five in _all_ of his classes.
The struggle was too hard a one for the boy to make alone, and he
carried his perplexities to Mr. Blake, the head-master of his school.
After the latter had read Mr. Ryder’s letter, and listened attentively
to Phil’s presentation of the facts, he laid his hand on the lad’s
shoulder, and said,
“Phil, do you remember the sentiment with which you headed your final
composition of last year?”
“Yes, sir,” answered the boy; “of course I do. My father gave it to me,
and I shall never forget it.”
“What was its exact wording?”
“‘Regard honor as more precious than life itself; for without the
former the latter is valueless,’” repeated Phil, in a low tone.
“You would hardly care to sacrifice your life for the sake of this
trip?”
“No, sir, nor my honor either!” cried the lad, with a brave tremble in
his voice. “So, as I cannot say with perfect truth that I am inside of
number five in all my studies, I will write to father to-night, and
tell him the proposed trip must be given up.”
“Spoken like the honest, true-hearted Yankee lad that you are, Phil
Ryder!” exclaimed Mr. Blake, grasping the boy’s hand, and holding it
tightly clasped. “Stick to that principle through life, and you will
have mastered the secret of all true success. But let us look into this
matter a little further. I happen to have noticed a private transaction
between you and lame Jimmy the other day. If you had not, as I believe
purposely, made the same mistake that he did you would have gone
above him, and would now stand number four instead of number five in
geometry. Now, on account of that I have a proposition to make. While
I am sorry not to have you graduate with your class, I know that your
father has good reasons for wishing you to visit Alaska this summer,
while with you the desire to join him there is very great.”
“Indeed it is, sir!”
“Well, then, if you will give me your word of honor not to divulge a
word of their contents, I will place the forthcoming examination papers
of your class in your hands. If you can satisfactorily answer ninety
per cent. of their questions, you will stand safely within the number
named by your father, and I will give you a certificate to that effect.”
“Oh, thank you, sir!” cried Phil, with such a revulsion of feeling
from deepest disappointment to brightest hope, that even the sunset
seemed suddenly to have taken on a new and more radiant splendor. “Of
course I promise! and, of course, I shall be only too glad to try the
examinations!”
“Very well,” said Mr. Blake. “Come to my study to-morrow evening
directly after tea, and we will make a beginning with English
literature and Latin. In the mean time don’t mention to any one,
excepting your aunt, what you are doing.”
How thankful Phil was that he had so used his time as to be able to
approach this trial with confidence, and how hard he did work during
the next three days in revising his studies of the previous year! What
anxious minutes he spent at the conclusion of the third evening of
examination, while Mr. Blake looked over and marked the last paper, the
one in mathematics, that he had just handed in.
“It’s all right, Philip!” the head-master finally announced, “and I do
most heartily congratulate you on your success. This last paper brings
your average up to ninety-three per cent., which, as compared with the
class standings of the past ten years, lands you well within the limit
named by your father. I therefore feel no hesitation in giving you that
rank, and you may, with a clear conscience, start on your journey just
as soon as your preparations can be made. Good-bye! God bless you! I
trust you will have the glorious time you expect, and which you have
so honestly earned. I also hope that in the autumn you will return
to us with a richly increased knowledge of our great country, and
particularly of that vast Northern territory concerning which there is
still so little general information.”
If the last three days had been busy ones for Phil, they had been
equally so for his aunt Ruth, for in that short time she had been
compelled to do all the making ready and packing, for which she
had expected to have as many weeks. In these few days, during the
infrequent intervals that her nephew spared from his studies, she
felt it her duty to stock his mind with stores of good advice and
oft-repeated warnings against his besetting fault. He listened with
what patience he could command, but finally laughingly declared that it
would be necessary for him to live at least a hundred years to put all
her precepts into practice.
“Oh, but Phil!” she exclaimed, pausing in the packing of his trunk
to emphasize her remarks, “you are so young and so careless, and the
journey before you is so filled with terrible possibilities! I declare
I don’t know but that I ought to go along to take care of you.”
“Nonsense, Aunt Rue!” retorted the young athlete, at the same time
picking up the slight figure of his anxious relative and swinging her,
ruffled and indignant, into his father’s great leathern arm-chair;
“if I’m not old enough and big enough now to take care of myself, I
never shall be. Of course I know that I have been careless at times,
and heedless, and all that. I can assure you, though, that my careless
days are things of the past, and that hereafter no graybeard of your
acquaintance will afford a more perfect model of prudence than your
humble nephew. As for you! well, the mere idea of a dear little thing
like you wandering away out there among the Siwashes to protect a
fellow of my size is prodigiously absurd. It surely is.”
“Absurd or not, Master Impudence, you’ll see the day more than once,
before this trip is ended, that you’ll wish your old aunty was at hand
with a little of her common-sense to help you out of some reckless
scrape or other. Mark my words, you will.”
“All right, Aunt Rue, I’ll mark down your words as you suggest; mark
’em down to half-price. I’ll also make a note in my log-book of every
time I get stranded for want of your counsel. Then when the cruise is
over I promise to make a full confession, and humbly beg for those
chunks of wisdom that shall enable me to steer clear of all such rocks
in the future.”
“Get away with your foolishness, you young scapegrace!” cried Aunt
Ruth, jumping down from the arm-chair and attempting a box on Phil’s
ear, which the boy skilfully dodged, as a preliminary to resuming her
packing.
At length all was in readiness, the last lingering good-byes were
spoken, and the boy was fairly launched on his travels. All his young
friends, and apparently half the town besides, were assembled at the
station to see him set forth. His trunk was checked, he carried an
overcoat on his arm, in his hands were a stout travelling-bag, and in
a canvas case the beautiful Winchester that had been his father’s last
birthday gift.
There was a grand shout of farewell from the fellows as the train
finally moved out from the station, and Phil answered it with a wave of
his hat from the rear platform of the last car. Then, going inside, he
sat down to reflect upon his glorious prospects, that seemed to stretch
away in a limitless haze of exciting adventure and daring exploit. If
he could have had but one real glimpse of the varied hardships and
bitter experiences held by the immediate future, I am afraid he would
have shrunk from them as did the poor little bear who found himself
alone in the world with all his troubles before him. Fortunately for
our hero’s peace of mind, his vision was just as limited as is that of
every one of us, who can have no possible inkling of what each coming
day may bring forth.