Dick escaped from the crowd and from his friends and took a bath,
followed by a brisk rub-down. When this was over, he donned his clothes,
feeling pretty well, for all of the game he had played through, for all
of his exertions in pursuing the runaway, for all of the bruises
received in stopping the frightened horse.
Being in perfect physical condition, he recovered swiftly. His eyes were
sparkling and there was a healthy glow in his cheeks as he hurriedly
packed his stuff and prepared to take the train that was to carry the
triumphant cadets back to Fardale.
He could hear the boys singing in a room across the corridor. The
"faithful" were having a high old time. They were packed into that room,
their arms locked about one another, howling forth the old songs of
their academy, "Fair Fardale," "The Red and Black," and "Fardale's Way."
"It's no use moaning, it's no use groaning,
It's no use feeling sore;
Keep on staying, keep on playing,
As you've done before.
Fight, you sinner; you're a winner,
If you stick and stay;
Never give in while you're living--
That is Fardale's way."
Dick smiled as he heard this familiar old song roared forth by the
lusty-lunged chaps who were rejoicing over the wonderful victory. It
gave him a feeling of inexpressible pleasure, and it was something he
would never forget as long as he lived.
Oh, these wonderful days at Fardale! It was not likely he would forget
them in after years. He had learned to love the old school as Frank
Merriwell loved it before him, and he was thankful that Frank had
rescued him from the lonely life in far-away Pleasant Valley beneath the
shadow of the Rockies and brought him to the academy.
Not that Dick's heart had ever ceased to turn lovingly toward the hidden
valley where he had lived a peaceful, happy life, with his little cousin
Felicia Delores as his sole companion and playmate near his own age.
True, he often thought of the days when he had wandered alone into the
woods and called about him the birds and wild creatures, every one of
whom seemed to know him and fear him not a bit. True it was that he
realized a change had come over him so that no longer could he call the
birds and the squirrels as he had done; but still he was happy and had
no desire to exchange the present for the past.
"No matter where we roam in the mystic years to come,
There are days we never shall forget,
The happy days when we, in a school beside the sea,
Cast aside the past without regret;
'Twas there sweet friendship grew 'mid hearts forever true,
And our longing souls must oft turn back
With yearnings for that time in youth's fair golden clime
When we wore the royal red and black.
"Oh, the royal red and black!
We'll love it to the end.
True to it we'll stand,
And true to every friend;
So rise up, boys, and cheer
For those colors bright and clear--
For the royal red and black."
In spite of himself, Dick's eyes filled with a mist as he heard this
sweet song, in which the great chorus joined in that room packed with
loyal Fardale lads. His lips smiled while there was a tear in his eye,
for that tear was a pearl of happiness. They were cheering! He stopped
and listened. They cheered for the red and black, and then a voice
cried:
"I propose the long cheer for Captain Merriwell, the royal defender of
the red and black, the greatest captain Fardale ever knew, and the
finest fellow who ever breathed. Let her go!"
They did let her go! It seemed that they would raise the roof. And the
cheer ended with Dick's name three times shouted at the full capacity of
their lusty, boyish lungs.
In his room Chester Arlington heard them, and he writhed with mental
anguish that caused him to forget his bodily pain.
"Fools! fools!" he snarled. "Where is Darrell? Why doesn't he come to
me? Is he ashamed because he broke his promise not to play? Well, he
ought to be! He swore he wouldn't go into that game, and then he went!"
June could have told her brother that Hal offered to go into the game
because she had urged him to do so, but she did not care to agitate
Chester any further just then.
"You must keep still," she said. "The doctor is going to bring back
another physician and make a closer examination. You may be seriously
hurt."
"No!" snapped Chester. "I won't have it so!"
"But I hope it is not so."
"I won't have it so! Why should I be hurt while he--while Dick Merriwell
is all right? It isn't possible!"
"I hope not! I think you will be all right, Chester."
"You're a good sister, June!" he suddenly exclaimed, looking at her.
"I'm sorry you made the mistake of having anything to do with that cheap
fellow Merriwell. But, June, you can never know how I felt when I saw
you in that carriage and knew I could do nothing to save you. I thought
I should die! But to have him save you, June--that was the bitterest
pill of all!"
"Don't keep thinking about that, Chester. Just be quiet until we find
out how much you are hurt. It will kill mother if you are hurt much."
For Chester Arlington's mother doted on him. He was her pride and joy,
and she had implicit confidence in him. She had permitted June to come
to Fardale to satisfy June that Chester was in the right in his trouble
with Dick Merriwell, but she had not fancied that June did not mean to
let her brother know she was in town until after she had investigated
and discovered the truth.
"I won't be hurt!" exclaimed the unfortunate lad. "Why should anything
like that happen to me? But it was so strange that I had no strength in
my legs when I tried to stand."
"That is what worried the doctor."
"Worried him?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"He was afraid your spine had been injured."
Chester turned still paler.
"My spine?" he whispered, a look of horror on his face. "Why, if that
should be, I might become a helpless cripple."
"Oh, I don't think it's anything like that!" cried the girl, regretting
that she had spoken so plainly. "I am sure it isn't."
He lay still and stared up at the ceiling.
"A cripple!" came huskily from his lips. "What a terrible thing! And
that fellow still strong and well! Nothing ever happens to him. Why is
it? It's his luck--his luck!"
June knew he was thinking of Dick Merriwell, and she thought how nearly
Dick had been knocked out of the game that day, how she had rushed to
him as he lay on the field, and how she had given him the little locket
as a "charm" to keep away misfortune in the future.
"What made you do it, June?" whined the lad on the bed, and she started
as she realized he was thinking of the same thing. "It was a shame--a
disgrace!"
"I'm sorry I disgraced you, Chester!" she said, somewhat coldly.
"I'd rather given anything than to have my sister make such a spectacle
of herself. All Fardale will know of it! They will say you are smitten
on him--on that fellow!"
"Chester, I know how much you dislike him; but don't you think you are
somewhat in the wrong yourself?"
He started to his elbow, with a cry.
"It's hard enough to be knocked out this way without having my sister go
back on me for a dog like that!" he exclaimed fiercely.
"He is no dog, Chester! Have you forgotten that he stopped the runaway
and saved me?"
"No! no! Wish I could!"
"Have you forgotten that this is the second time he has saved me? Surely
I owe him something! I owe him respect, at least!"
"That's all! You can keep away from him! June, you must stay in Fardale
no longer. I'll write mother. That is, if you do not decide to leave at
once."
"Perhaps I may not be able to leave."
"Not able?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"You may need me."
"You think I am going to be as bad as that? Then that infernal doctor
must have told you something he did not say to me! But I'll fool
him--I'll fool them all! I'll get up all right in a day or so! It's
nothing but a sprained back! Why doesn't Darrell come to me? Has he gone
back on me entirely?"
"Perhaps the doctor has told everybody to keep away."
"Confound the doctor! June, go find Hal Darrell and tell him to come
here right away. I have something to say to that fellow, and I'm going
to say it while it is hot on my mind."
"Keep still while I am gone," she said. "Will you?"
He promised, and she left the room to look for Darrell.