CHAPTER XXX
AN UNEXPECTED CLEW
Four lads sat in various ungraceful if easy attitudes in the room of ourheroes one evening. Four--for Frank Simpson was now an accredited memberin full and regular standing of the "Big Four," as they were coming tobe called.
Frank had moved his belongings into the apartment of the three chums,who were now four, for he found their comradeship congenial, and theyliked him immensely.
It was a week after the announcement by Dr. Churchill of the setback thecollege had received in the opening of the legal battle.
Football practice had, naturally, gone on as usual, and there was a morehopeful look on the faces of the captain and coach. The team was playingmore as a unit. Kicks were being handled better, the ball was beingadvanced with greater certainty in the games with the scrubs, and itlooked as if Randall would come into her own again. They had playedanother minor game, and had rolled up a surprisingly big score.
"But the trouble of it is," said Tom, as he got in a more comfortableposition on the creaking sofa, "the trouble of it is that Boxer Hall isdoing just as well. She's cleaning up everything that comes her way."
"But we have a look-in at the championship," declared Sid.
"Yes, if we win the game Saturday against Pentonville Prep," agreedPhil.
"Oh, we'll do that all right," declared Frank.
The football situation in the Tonaka Lake League was peculiar that year.In spite of the fact that Randall had not done well and had been beatenby Fairview, the latter college had "slumped" so after her victory overRandall that she was practically out of it as regards the championship.Should Randall win the game against Pentonville, which was almost aforegone conclusion, there would be a tie between Boxer Hall and thecollege of our heroes for the championship. It was this knowledge whichmade the players, coach and captain a trifle nervous, for so muchdepended on the final struggle that was close at hand.
Would it be Randall or Boxer Hall that would carry off the honors of thegridiron?
"Well, we'll play our heads off, that's all I can say," remarked Tom,as he glanced over the sporting pages of a paper. "I see that they'retrying some new kicking game at Boxer."
"Yes, they're always after fads," declared Phil. "But straight football,with some of the old-fashioned line bucking, such as we play, and twohalves, are good enough for me."
"Same here," agreed Sid.
"I guess nothing will come of that law business before the final game,eh, fellows?" went on Tom, who seemed anxious about it.
"No danger of a decision from the courts right away," said Frank. "Fromwhat I can hear, our lawyers are going to get back at Langridge and hispartner in some new kind of an injunction or a _lis pendis_ or a_whang-doodle_. That may make it look like a white horse of anothercolor."
They talked of football and the legal tangle at some length, and weredeep in a discussion about a certain wing-shift play, when trampingfootsteps were heard down the corridor.
"Holly Cross," ventured Sid.
"Dutch Housenlager or--an elephant," predicted Tom. "He walks as thoughhe had his football shoes on."
"Perhaps he's coming to suggest another trick on the proctor orPitchfork," suggested Phil, for the latest attempt of Dutch was astanding joke against the fun-loving student.
"Hello, Dutch!" greeted Tom, as the big guard entered. "Anything wrong?"
"No. Why?"
"Oh, I didn't know, but I thought you looked as if you just met theproctor, who made you sweep and dust his room."
The others joined in the laugh against Dutch.
"Oh, can you fellows ever forget anything?" he asked, in accents of deepdisgust, as he looked about for a place to sit down. "Where's the seatof honor, anyhow?" he demanded. "Am I to sit on the floor?"
"Oh, suit yourself," remarked Phil. "Our seat of honor hasn't yet comeback from the realms of mystery."
"No, hang it all!" exclaimed Sid. "I'd give a good deal to know who hasour old chair."
"What! Haven't you got that back yet?" asked Dutch. "Seems to me if Iwere you I'd make it a point to go in the room of every fellow incollege until I found it."
"We've practically done that," declared Phil. "In fact, we've doneeverything but offer a reward, and I guess we'll have to do that next."
"Just what sort of a chair was it that you lost?" asked Frank Simpson."I've heard a lot about it since I came to Randall, but I don't exactlyknow whether it is a Turkish rocker or a Chinese teakwood affair with acold marble seat."
"It was the easiest chair you ever sat in!" declared Tom.
"A regular sleep-producer," was Sid's opinion.
"Nothing like it ever known when you came in all tired out from footballpractice, as I did to-night," spoke Phil. "It rested you all over, andnow we only have the couch, and Tom or Sid have that all the time now,so I don't get a chance at it."
"Get out, you syndicated cynic!" cried Tom. "You're always on the 'lay'when I come in. But, Frank, seriously, this chair of ours was the realthing. It was a beaut, and I haven't been able to find one like itsince. It was an heirloom!"
"It was a relic of the dark ages!" broke in Dutch. "Say, Simpson, you'dought to have seen it! That chair was broken in the back, the seat washumped up like a camel with the heaves, both cylinders were cracked,the gears were stripped smooth, the differential was on the fritz,there wasn't a tire on it without a puncture, it had the pip and theepizootic, and, to crown it all, when you sat down in it you never knewwhether you were going to get out of it alive or were a prisoner forlife on hard labor."
"Soak him!"
"Traitor!"
"Put him out!"
"Roll him under the sofa!"
"That'll do for you, Dutch!"
These were only some of the things that Tom and his mates called at thebig guard as he went on slandering the precious chair. Frank Simpson satan amused witness of the little scene.
"It was pretty big, wasn't it?" he ventured, at length. "That chair, Imean."
"As if we were talking of anything else," retorted Phil. "Yes, it wasbig and heavy and clumsy--about fifty years old, I guess, and itdisappeared just before the clock went off on a vacation, and came backso unexpectedly. By the way, fellows, we're as far from that mystery asever."
"Don't speak of it!" begged Sid.
"Did your chair have a sort of reddish-brown cover on it?" went onFrank.
"That may have been the color once," broke in the irrepressible Dutch,"but it was sky-blue pink when it walked away, for these fellows used toempty their ink bottles on it, and use the upholstery for a blotter."
"Cheese it!" cried Tom. "Yes, Frank, the cover was a reddish-brown."
"And were the legs carved with claws, and the arms with lions' heads?"went on the Californian.
"Exactly! Say!" cried Phil, "like the dervish in the story of the camel,have you got our old chair?"
He arose, and fairly glared at Frank. The latter, too, had been growingmore serious as he proceeded with his questions. Sid and Tom leanedforward eagerly, and Dutch looked on, wondering what was coming next.
"I haven't got your chair," went on Frank, "but when I know what kind itis, as I do now for the first time, I think I can give you news of it."
"Then, for the love of Mike and the little fishes, speak!" cried Tom.
"Or forever after hold your peace," chimed in Dutch, solemnly.
"Where's our chair?" demanded Phil, dramatically.
"I was passing a second-hand store, the proprietor of which also doesupholstering as a side line," went on Frank, "when, happening to glanceinto the left-hand--no, I think it was the right-hand--window, Iespied----"
"Oh, put on more steam!" begged Tom.
"I saw a chair," went on the Californian, "a chair that I am sure mustbe yours. It was exactly as you have described it. I thought it lookedto be quite a relic."
"Where is that second-hand place?" cried Phil and Tom in a breath, whileSid grew so excited that he grabbed Frank by the arm, and held to him asif he, too
, might vanish as had the chair. "Where is it? Where is it?"
"In Haddonfield, on a little side street that runs up from the depot. Idon't know the name of it," answered Simpson.
"Decker Street," supplied Tom. "About the only place we didn't look,fellows. I didn't know there was a second-hand place there."
"There's only this one!" said Frank. "But he has your chair!"
"Hurrah!" cried Phil. "On the trail at last! Where's my cap?" and hebegan looking about the room.
"Where you going, this time of night?" demanded Dutch.
"Over to Haddonfield to get that chair, of course," replied thequarter-back. "Come on, Sid and Tom."
They were enthusiastically hunting about for their hats and coats, whichwere never put in the same place twice.
"I'll go along and show you," volunteered Frank. "But he may be closednow. It's after nine. We won't get to town until nearly ten."
"We'll make him open up if we have to get the police," declared Sid.
"Sure!" exclaimed Tom.
"Fellows, it's too late to go to-night," said Dutch, seriously. "Youcan't run any chances of Zane catching you, especially as the big gamewith Boxer is so near at hand. If you're caught it may mean being ruledoff the team, and you ought not to take chances."
The four hesitated. It was their chair against the eleven, for they knewthat there had been a number of college rule violations of late, and theproctor was unusually strict. They might be caught and punished.
"Morning will do," insisted Dutch, who, if he did not care much for thechair, did have the interests of the eleven at heart.
"It won't do, but I suppose we'll have to wait," conceded Phil, slowly."Jove! It's tough to almost get your hands on it, and then have to holdback. Why didn't you tell us this before, Frank?"
"I didn't see the chair in the window until day before yesterday, andthen I never thought it could be yours, until we got to talking about itto-night."
"And to think that we may have it back to-morrow," murmured Tom. "Itseems too good to be true! I wonder how it ever got away?"
"I don't know that, but I do know that we'll chain it fast when we haveit again," declared Phil, and then they made Frank tell all over againhow he had happened to see it, and how it looked.
The Winning Touchdown: A Story of College Football Page 30