FORMING THE TRACK TEAM
As though resolved that the _Boreas_ should rest for a while on her
laurels, the weather changed that night within the hour and when
morning dawned there was a warm southwest wind blowing up the river.
That afternoon Dick took Harry for a sail, but the wind by that
time had died down to a thin, warm breeze that scarcely filled the
sails, and in consequence the trip was not an exhilarating one. But
exhilarating or otherwise, it proved to be practically the last of the
season, for the warm weather held until the ice-cracks, air-holes and
expanses of rotten ice which quickly developed made ice-boating at once
dangerous and unpleasant. To be sure, there were occasional trips,
but the river never returned to a state making possible another race
between the _Boreas_ and the _Snowbird_, a race which Joe Thurston was
eager for and which Dick was not at all averse to. Finally the _Boreas_
was drawn up beside the landing and dismantled, the sails and rigging
being stored in the boat-house. As Chub poetically phrased it, “The
career of the good ship _Boreas_ has been brief, but ah, how glorious!”
February was a fortnight old when the school was thrown into a fever
of mild excitement by a notice posted on the bulletin board in School
Hall. The notice read as follows:
It is proposed to form a Track Team, and a meeting for that
purpose will be held to-morrow (Friday) afternoon in the Gym at
4:15. All fellows are earnestly requested to be present.
ROY PORTER,
T. H. EATON.
I think you could have formed most anything at Ferry Hill just then,
from a Croquet Club to a Sewing Society. February is a dull time of
year, and the fellows were eager for anything which promised to supply
a new interest. For two weeks the rink had been unfit to play on,
and the river in scarcely better condition. Ferry Hill had won the
first six games of its hockey schedule, including the first contest
with Hammond. The second game with the rival school had been twice
postponed, and Roy was beginning to lose hope of ever being able to
play it, a thing which disgusted him not a little since the team had
shown itself to be an unusually good one and able, in his and the
school’s estimation, to cope successfully with any hockey team in the
vicinity. With skating and hockey at a standstill, base-ball practice
confined only to light work in the cage, and the golf links still half
a foot deep in snow, the forty-three students at Ferry Hill were ripe
for any excitement. And as a result the meeting on Friday afternoon was
about as well attended as it could possibly have been. Things went
with a rush from the start. Roy outlined the project and introduced
Dick Somes, who had hitherto remained in the background. It didn’t take
Dick more than two minutes of talking to have every fellow on the edge
of his chair with roseate visions of a track and field victory over
Hammond floating before his eyes.
“Say, Roy,” whispered Chub, “Dick’s father is some sort of a promoter,
isn’t he?”
“Yes, I think so; sells mines, doesn’t he? Why?”
“Nothing much, only I know now where Dick gets it!”
Before the meeting was over thirty-seven out of thirty-nine fellows in
attendance had put their names down for the track team and had agreed
to contribute two dollars apiece. And there wasn’t one of them who
wasn’t firmly convinced that he had the making of a sprinter, distance
runner, hurdler, jumper, pole-vaulter or weight-thrower!
“I’ve talked with Mr. Cobb,” said Dick, “and he’s right with us in
this; says there’s no reason why we shouldn’t be able to turn out a
dandy team. Of course, we mustn’t set our hearts on too much this
spring; we’re new at it yet, and it takes a couple of years to get the
stride. But I can’t see why we haven’t as good a chance to lick Hammond
as she has to lick us. (_Enthusiastic applause._) As soon as we’ve
elected officers we’ll get a challenge off to her, and I guess there’s
no doubt but what she’ll be glad to meet us. We haven’t got a very good
outdoor track just now, but we’re going to fix that in time. Meanwhile
we can do a whole lot of work indoors, and Mr. Cobb will arrange
it so that he will be on hand here three afternoons a week to give
instruction. But there mustn’t be any backing down, fellows. If you go
in to this you must keep it up. It may seem like hard work at first,
but after we get out of doors you’ll like it immensely. I’m not afraid
of your backing out then; only that you may get discouraged before
that. But if you’ll just remember all the time that we’re going to show
Hammond that we’re just as good on the cinder track as we are on the
gridiron and the diamond and the river, why, I guess you’ll stick it
out.”
Dick sat down amid hearty cheers and Roy proposed the election of
officers.
“I suppose,” he said, “that we’d better leave the selection of a
captain until a little later, until we’ve been together a while and
have seen who’s capable of heading the team. So that leaves us the duty
of selecting a manager and assistant manager. Nominations are in order.”
Warren proposed Roy for manager, but Roy declined, pleading a press of
other duties. Then Chub, who had his instructions, arose and nominated
Dick. Dick was unanimously chosen. The position of assistant manager
was not so quickly filled, but finally Sid Welch was put up and the
meeting accepted him hilariously, demanding a speech. But Sid refused
to make any remarks except to bob his head and mutter something about
being much obliged.
On Saturday afternoon the candidates got to work in the gymnasium. A
less optimistic person than Dick Somes would, I think, have been rather
discouraged by the prospect. Few of the candidates for the team had
ever seriously tried the work which they had selected. A good many of
them, in fact, had very hazy ideas of what they had let themselves
in for, and there was a deal of grumbling over chest-weights and
dumb-bells. But the grumbling always ceased when Dick drew near, and
his enthusiasm was contagious. Mr. Cobb shook his head afterward and
said he was afraid there wasn’t enough material there to make a team
that could hope to make a showing against Hammond. But Dick wouldn’t
listen to that.
“We may be weak in some events,” he said, “but we’ll have some good
sprinters, you mark my words, sir, and if we can get a lot of second
and third places we’ll make a good showing for a new team. I wish
every other fellow wouldn’t insist on being either a hurdler or a
hammer-thrower, though,” he laughed. “I can’t find but one chap who is
willing to go in for the pole-vault, and he’s only doing it as a favor
to me and will probably back out when he’s once tried it and has found
that he can’t do twelve feet the first time.”
Dick had purchased every book on the subject of track and field
athletics that he could hear of and was studying them diligently. He
knew, perhaps, as little at the start as any fellow in school in regard
to track and field work and training methods. But he talked with every
one who could help him, especially Mr. Cobb, and, as I have said,
studied all the literature to be found. The result was that by the time
outdoor work was reached he knew a good deal on the subject, although
much of his knowledge was as yet theoretical, and would have impressed
the wiliest veteran athlete as being an old hand. A portion of Dick’s
philosophy, if ever formulated in words, would have run something like
this: “Know how if you can; if you can’t, keep your mouth shut and look
wise.”
When, three weeks after the formation of the team, an election for
captain was held, the members suddenly realized that there was only one
among them who possessed the requisite knowledge to fill the office
successfully, only one whom they placed faith in. Six fellows got on
to their feet at the same moment and nominated Dick Somes and about a
dozen more seconded the nomination. Further nominations not following,
Dick was unanimously elected, accepting the honor with becoming
modesty. Sid was promoted to manager and Fernald became assistant.
“Well,” said Roy after the meeting was over, “that went all right.”
“According to program,” agreed Chub cheerfully.
“You fellows may think it was cheeky of me to get up the team and then
have myself elected captain,” said Dick, “but I know that I’m the only
fellow here who can see the thing through. And I suppose that sounds
conceited.”
“Well, it might from some one else,” said Roy, “but it doesn’t from
you, Dick. Anyhow, it’s just about so. If any fellow can make a track
team go here it’s you. And I hope you’ll succeed.”
“Oh, I’ll succeed all right,” answered Dick calmly. “Of course I don’t
look for many victories this year, but if we get the team started it’ll
keep a-going, and next year or the year after that we’ll show a few of
those conceited Hammondites what we can do.”
“I wish I had some of your confidence,” sighed Chub. “If I had I’d feel
better about base-ball.”
“Chub’s an optimist when it comes to other people’s affairs,” laughed
Roy, “and a confirmed growler about his own. Last year he was certain
we were going to get licked by Hammond; went around for two weeks
before the game looking as though he’d swallowed a barrel of pickles.”
“Were you?” Dick asked.
“Not a bit of it! We won, eight to seven.”
“It was a close call, though,” said Chub. “If you hadn’t--”
“Oh, Dick’s heard all about that,” interrupted Roy. “When are you going
to issue that challenge to Hammond, Dick?”
“Right away now. I told Sid to meet me this evening after supper and
we’d write it out. They’re probably still smarting over losing the
second hockey game to us and that will make them eager to lick us at
something else. I want them to propose their own grounds. In the first
place, ours won’t be fit for much this spring, and in the next place if
we’re beaten, as we’re pretty sure to be, we’ll be able to point to the
fact that Hammond had the advantage of being on her home field; as a
matter of fact, it won’t make much difference to us where we are. Then
next year, when we may have a chance of beating them, they’ll have to
come over here.”
“Well, if you aren’t the foxy one!” said Chub.
“Well, I don’t want the fellows to be discouraged when they’re beaten,”
responded Dick. “And the more excuses they have the less they’ll mind
a defeat. I guess I’ll leave you fellows here. I want to go to the
Cottage a minute to see Harry.”
“We’ll come along,” said Chub.
Dick smiled and shook his head.
“It’s a private matter,” he said. “You fellows run along.”
“What do you think of that?” exclaimed Roy. “He and Harry have been
mighty chummy for the last week or two, Chub. Wonder what’s up, eh?”
“You’ll find out presently,” said Dick.
They had been sauntering slowly along the path from the gymnasium and
now Dick turned to the right and walked across the wet turf.
“Where are you going?” demanded Roy.
“Just here,” answered Dick, stopping and looking off down the slope
toward the river. “You get a great view from here, don’t you?”
“Yes,” answered Roy as they joined him. “What of it?”
“Nothing, only I’ve been thinking that this would be a fine site for
the new dormitory.”
“Gee!” exclaimed Chub. “I’d forgotten all about it. Anything doing yet?”
“N-no, not to speak of,” answered Dick as he turned back toward the
path. “Still, I rather think there’ll be a meeting before very long.”
“Isn’t he the mysterious chump?” asked Chub. “Bet you he’s thought out
a scheme. Have you, Dick?”
“I’ll tell you after a while,” was the answer. “So long.”
“Oh, well, of course we don’t want to know,” replied Chub. “Farewell, O
Man of Mystery!”