FRIDAY AND ILL-LUCK
“I think,” remarked Mr. Groff, the next morning, “that I could count on
one hand the students who have studied their algebra. Wyman, Latham,
Nutter, Hazard――if there is another I’d like to hear from him.”
Thirty-odd hands went up. Mr. Groff smiled gently and sorrowfully.
“If football plays may be worked out by algebra, I believe you. We will
repeat to-day’s lesson to-morrow. I trust that as the football season
will be over on Monday we may then return to our studies. Dismissed.”
Events transpired so rapidly that day that it is difficult to tell of
them in order. First of all, though, just before noon it was known that
Curtis, formerly of the second and now playing right tackle on the
first team, had been summoned home because of sickness in the family.
Consternation prevailed. At two o’clock Curtis went off, bag in hand,
torn between anxiety and disappointment. Before that Duncan Sargent and
Johnny Connell had spent a troubled hour trying to rearrange their line
of battle. At dinner time Johnny pedaled along the road, jumped from
his wheel in front of Sunnywood Cottage, rang the bell impatiently and
demanded Jim.
“Look here, Hazard,” began Johnny when Jim reached the porch, napkin in
hand, “we’ve lost Curtis. He’s gone home. Some of his folks ill. We’ve
got to have another lineman. There’s no one on the second heavy enough
to stand up in front of Hawthorne. Either you or Gary must come back. I
don’t care which, but the first of you to report to me, all square with
the Office, starts the game to-morrow. I’ve seen Gary and told him the
same thing. Now you have a talk with Mr. Gordon right away, understand?
And let me know what he says. Come to me after school. If he lets you
play you’ll have to learn the new signals this evening. Now hurry up
and finish your dinner, and don’t stuff yourself. Then see Mr. Gordon
at once.”
“All right,” replied Jim, his heart thumping hard at the thought of
getting back to the team. “I’ll see him in fifteen minutes. Where will
I find you?”
“I’ll be in the gym at two. Before that you’ll find me around Academy
somewhere. Get a move on. Tell Gordon you’ve _got_ to play; tell him
we’ve got to have you!”
And Johnny hurried through the gate, jumped on his bicycle and tore
back to school. Fifteen minutes later Jim, breathless and anxious, ran
up the steps of Academy Hall, hurried down the corridor and entered the
Office.
“Can I see Mr. Gordon, please?”
“Mr. Gordon has gone to Boston,” replied the secretary in his best
official voice. “He left at twelve o’clock.”
Jim’s heart sank. “When will he be back, please, sir?” he asked. The
secretary frowned.
“He is not in the habit of informing me very closely as to his plans.
I believe, however, that he expects to return sometime to-morrow
forenoon.”
“To-morrow forenoon!” gasped Jim.
“Exactly.” The trouble in the boy’s face softened the secretary’s
manner. “What was it you wanted? Is there anything I can do for you?”
“No, sir, thank you,” answered Jim. He went out, closed the heavy oak
door softly and dragged his feet along the corridor. At the corner he
drew aside and Brandon Gary hurried by him in the direction of the
Office. Jim smiled wanly. Gary and he were in the same boat.
On the front steps he paused, hands thrust deep in his pockets and
tried to think what to do. It still lacked twenty minutes of recitation
time and he had the sunlit entrance to himself. But he could see no way
out of his quandary. Only Mr. Gordon could lift the ban and Mr. Gordon
had gone away. Jim seated himself on the top step and stared unseeingly
at the wooded slope beyond the river. Footsteps echoed in the corridor
and Brandon Gary came out. He saw Jim, hesitated and then leaned
against the doorway. Jim looked up and their eyes met. Gary nodded.
“Hello,” said Jim morosely.
“Say, Hazard, you and I are both up against it, aren’t we?” said Gary.
“I’d like to know what business J. G. has going away at a time like
this.”
“I suppose to-morrow morning will be too late,” responded Jim
discouragedly.
“Oh, he won’t be back until noon. He’ll come on the express that gets
in just before dinner. Gee, Hazard, I’d like to play to-morrow! I’ve
been thinking he might let me off before this, but he didn’t, and I
made up my mind I wouldn’t ask. But now it’s serious. With Curtis gone
the old team’s up against it, I guess.”
Jim nodded. Gary seated himself on the other side of the steps. Silence
held them for a minute. Then Jim sighed.
“Well,” he said, “I guess I’ll look up Johnny and tell him. I promised
to let him know.”
“So did I,” said Gary. “Look here, Hazard, do you think it would do any
good to talk to Nancy?”
Jim considered a moment.
“I don’t see what he could do, Gary.”
“He might telegraph to J. G. and ask him to let us off.”
“I don’t believe Nancy would do that,” replied Jim doubtfully.
“Besides, we don’t know where he is, do we?”
“Mrs. Gordon can tell us. Look here, will you go and see him with me?
Maybe we can talk him into it. I’ll apologize to him, if he wants me
to. I’ll do anything to help the team out.”
“Yes, I’ll go,” answered Jim, brightening a little. “If we walk up the
road maybe we’ll meet him.”
They sprang up and hurried off side by side, choosing the road instead
of the wood path, since if they took the latter they might miss the
instructor. They hadn’t far to go. As they walked briskly around the
curve behind the Principal’s residence Mr. Hanks came into sight a few
rods away.
“You start it,” whispered Gary. “You know him better. I’ll dig in
afterwards.”
“Mr. Hanks, may we speak to you a minute, sir?” asked Jim as the
instructor met them. Mr. Hanks dropped the hand holding the book he had
been reading and brought his thoughts back with a visible effort.
“Er――certainly.”
“Gary and I, sir, are both in wrong at the Office, as you know. Now
Curtis has gone home and the team’s in a bad way for a fellow to take
his place in the line. We’ve been to see Mr. Gordon and he’s gone away
and may not be back until to-morrow noon. That will be too late, sir.
Wouldn’t you be willing to say a good word for us, sir, to Mr. Gordon?
Tell him we――we’re sorry and――and all that, and ask him if we can’t
play to-morrow?”
Mr. Hanks looked blank. “I――I don’t quite understand,” he said. “You
want me to intercede for you with Mr. Gordon?”
“Yes, sir,” answered Gary. “I guess I deserved what I got, Mr. Hanks,
but I’ve been on probation for nearly a month now. I’m sorry for what
I did and I――I beg pardon, sir, I wouldn’t have asked any favors for
myself, sir, but the team’s in a rotten mess now that Curtis can’t play
and it needs me badly, needs both of us.”
“I――I’m afraid, I don’t quite get your meaning about this――this team.
What sort of a team is it, Gary?”
“Why, the football team, sir! To-morrow’s the big game of the season,
you know; Hawthorne. And we’re going to get licked as sure as shooting
if either Hazard or I don’t get back.”
“Am I to understand,” asked Mr. Hanks in puzzled tones, “that Mr.
Gordon has forbidden you to play in the game?”
“Why, of course,” replied Gary a trifle impatiently. “I haven’t played
since he put me on probation. And Hazard here had to give up last
Monday. You can’t play if you don’t keep up with your studies.”
“Really! I didn’t know that. I fear I am not sufficiently conversant
with the customs here. I understand, then, that you want to take part
in this――this contest to-morrow. Is that it?”
“Yes, sir,” chorused Gary and Jim eagerly.
“Why――why――yes, I shall be glad to say a good word for you both. Your
work in class has been very satisfactory since――since the occasion we
both, I am sure, regret, Gary. As for Hazard, he seems to have taken
hold earnestly with his studies of late. But――but if Mr. Gordon is away
I don’t just see how――that is――”
“We thought you might send him a telegram,” said Gary boldly. “Tell him
we’re needed on the team and that you’re willing we should play and ask
him to give us permission.”
“Do you think,” asked Mr. Hanks doubtfully, “I should be within
my――er――authority? It――it has the appearance of interference with the
Principal’s affairs.”
“No, sir, it would be all right. It’s been done lots of times. You see,
Mr. Hanks, you had us punished and you have a right to ask for pardon.
And, besides, sir, it isn’t just for us personally, it’s for the whole
school! If we don’t play we’ll be licked by Hawthorne! And you don’t
want that to happen!”
“Er――no, I suppose not. Naturally a victory is much to be desired.
But――but a telegram? Wouldn’t a letter do?”
“He wouldn’t get it in time, sir. We’ll have to know right off;
to-night or to-morrow morning at the latest. Please say you will, Mr.
Hanks!”
“We-ell, yes, Gary, I’ll do as you ask. Now what is the address?”
“We don’t know yet, sir. We’ll ask Mrs. Gordon for it. If you will just
write out the telegram now, sir, I’ll get the address and take the
message down town right after school.”
“Very well. If you will accompany me to the hall I will――er――attend to
it.”
[Illustration: “We thought you might send him a telegram,” said Gary,
boldly.]
At a few minutes before four o’clock Gary sent the message at the
telegraph office in the village. Mrs. Gordon had willingly supplied
her husband’s address in Boston. There was nothing to do now but wait.
Johnny was far from satisfied with events, but told Gary and Jim to
report that evening and receive instructions in signals. Jim was a
different boy now. At Sunnywood excitement reigned supreme. Supper was
a very perfunctory meal, for every one was too busy listening for the
footsteps of a messenger boy to eat much. Even Mr. Hanks, suddenly
drawn into the swirl of school affairs, displayed a mild interest
in events. At eight o’clock no reply had been received and Hope put
forward the explanation that Mr. Gordon, who was stopping at an hotel,
had gone out to dinner with friends.
“He will find the telegram when he gets back to the hotel this
evening,” she declared cheerfully. “There’s no use getting worried,
Jim. It will be all right. You see if it isn’t.”
Right or wrong, Jim was forced to leave the house at twenty minutes
past eight and hurry to the locker rooms in the gymnasium, where
Sargent, Johnny and Arnold, the quarter-back, were awaiting him and
Gary. For a solid hour and ten minutes the two boys were coached in the
new signals, and not until they were letter-perfect were they allowed
to depart. By that time Jim’s head was in a whirl. He and Gary walked
back together through the frosty darkness, discussing the chances of
the telegram coming that night and speculating as to what its tenor
would be when it did come.
“Like as not,” said Jim, who was tired and low-spirited by this time,
“he will refuse to let us off.”
“I have a feeling it’s going to be all right,” answered Gary cheerfully.
“Guess I’ll walk on to your place and see if it’s come.”
And it had. Hope met them at the door with the news and they went
upstairs to Mr. Hanks’ room. The instructor fumbled around on his desk
and finally found the message. He handed it to Gary. Gary read it with
a broad smile, that trailed away toward the end, and handed it to Jim.
This was the message:
MR. ARTEMUS HANKS,
CARE MRS. HAZARD, Crofton, Mass.
Gary’s probation lifted. Please inform him. Hazard must pass
examination in Latin before he can take part in athletics.
JOHN GORDON.
Jim reread the telegram and then laid it back on the desk. “That lets
me out,” he said quietly. “I’m glad you’re all right, though, Gary. If
you play they won’t need me, anyway. Thank you, Mr. Hanks.”
“You’re very welcome, Jim. I――I regret that the result in your case is
so disappointing.”
Jim went down to the door with Gary and bade him good night. “Glad you
can play, Gary,” he said. “And I hope we win.”
“We will if I can bring it about,” replied Gary warmly. “I wish you
were going in, too, though, Hazard.” He hesitated a moment on the
steps. “Thanks for helping me. Come and see me some time, will you?” At
the gate he turned again. “Oh, Hazard, I say!”
“Yes?” replied Jim from the doorway.
“How about your rooms here? Haven’t got one I could have after
Christmas recess, have you?”
“Yes, there’s one empty. It isn’t as good as――as the one you saw, Gary,
but it’s not bad.”
“I’ll come around and have a look at it some day. Jones’s is the limit!
Good night.”
“Good night,” answered Jim tiredly.
Then he went upstairs to face the sympathy of Gil and Poke and Jeffrey.