Tom Fairfield's Schooldays; or, The Chums of Elmwood Hall

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Tom Fairfield's Schooldays; or, The Chums of Elmwood Hall Page 10

by Mary Hazelton Blanchard Wade


  CHAPTER X

  A COWARD'S TRICK

  "Three cheers for Fairfield!"

  "Rah! Rah! Rah!--Elmwood!"

  "Three cheers for Holwell!"

  There were shouts, cries and cheers of joy at the victory on the part ofour hero's followers, while there was corresponding gloom in the camp oftheir unsuccessful rivals.

  "Great work, old man!" complimented Tom's captain. "You did the trickfor us!"

  "It was an accident. I just managed to get the ball, and run," explainedTom.

  "Lucky for us you did. It was an accident that might have countedheavily against us. What was the matter with you, Sam, in passing theball?"

  "Aw, it wasn't my fault. It slipped. Anyhow our full-back had his handson it, and he dropped it."

  "I did not!" declared that player. "You didn't pass it to me fairly."

  "That'll do!" interrupted the captain sharply. "We don't want anyquarrels. Besides, we won the game."

  Tom was surrounded by a joyous crowd of his chums, and other admirers,as the team raced from the field, and the throng of spectators filed outof the stands.

  "Well, how do you feel?" asked Jack of his chum, as they were in theirroom together, after a refreshing bath in the gymnasium.

  "Great! I expect I'll be a little lame and stiff tomorrow though.Somebody gave me a beaut dig in the ribs."

  "And I guess our whole team, and half of the other one, was piled on meat one stage of the game," remarked Jack ruefully, as he rubbed his backreflectively. "But it was a glorious win all right. And how you did run,Tom!"

  "I just had to, to make that touchdown." And then the two boys fell totalking of the game, playing it all over again in detail.

  "I just thought Sam would be mean enough not to give you a chance,"remarked Jack.

  "Oh, maybe it wasn't intentional," replied our hero, who did not like tothink ill of anyone.

  "Get out! Of course it was. Ask any of the fellows. But he fooledhimself. That fumble spoiled his plans, and you grabbed youropportunity."

  "And the ball too," added Tom, as there came a knock on their door.

  "Come!" called Jack, and Bert Wilson and George Abbot entered.

  "Came to pay our respects," spoke Bert. "How does it feel to be hero?Aren't your ears burning, with the way the fellows are talking aboutyou?"

  "Not exactly."

  "Why should his ears burn?" asked George. "Is it because he--"

  "Now you quit, or I'll fire the dictionary at you," threatened Bert."I told you I'd bring you in on one condition, and that was that youwouldn't be a question box."

  "But I just wanted to know," pleaded George.

  "Then look it up in an encyclopedia," directed Jack, with a laugh. "I'mnot going to answer any more questions."

  "I hope you get a chance next game," said Tom to Bert. "Maybe you willafter the fumble Sam made."

  And Bert did. For there was a conference between the Freshman captainand coach that night, which resulted in Sam being sent back to thescrub. He protested mightily.

  "It wasn't my fault--that fumble," he declared.

  "I think it was," spoke the coach. "Anyhow you didn't run the teamas well as I thought you would. Why, you didn't give Fairfield half achance, and he showed what he could do when he did get a show."

  "Aw, he can't play football."

  "I think he can. Anyhow, you'll shift back, but if you do good work I'llplay you on the regular team again before the season is over." And withthis Sam had to be content.

  Football practice was resumed on Monday, and the team seemed to dobetter with the change in quarter-backs. There was a match in the middleof the week, and again Elmwood won handily, Jack Fitch distinguishinghimself by a long run, while Tom made some star tackles, once saving atouchdown by catching the player a short distance from the goal.

  "I'll get even with Fairfield yet!" threatened Sam to Nick. "He needn'tthink he can run things here."

  "Go in and do him," advised his crony. "Can't you pick a quarrel withhim, and have it out?"

  "I'll try. If you see a chance, sail in and lick him."

  "I will," promised Nick, but Sam's chance came sooner than he expected,or, rather, he made the opportunity.

  There is a certain fine powder, a sort of a pepper-snuff so fine thatit can not be seen floating about, yet which, if scattered about a room,will irritate the eyes, nose and throat in a marked degree. Sam boughtsome of this powder, and making it up into a small paper parcel, hewatched his chance to slip it into Tom's handkerchief pocket.

  "He'll pull it out in class," Sam explained to Nick, "and set the wholeroom to sneezing. I'll try and have him do it in Latin recitation, andSkeel won't do a thing to him, for Tom sits in the front row, and theprof. will see him."

  "Suppose Fairfield catches you?"

  "I'll take care that he doesn't," declared Sam, and he was lucky enoughto bring about his cowardly trick undetected. As the students went intothe Latin class, presided over by Professor Skeel, Sam slipped thesneezing powder into Tom's pocket, on top of his handkerchief. It wasquickly done, and, in the press, our hero never noticed it. Then Samquickly joined one of his classmates, with whom he was more or lessthick, to prevent detection.

  The recitation was about half over, and Tom, who had been called on, hadmade a failure, for a very hard question, and one he had never dreamedwould be brought up in class, was asked him.

  "Remain after the session, and write me out fifty lines of Caesar,"ordered the mean instructor. Tom shut his laps grimly. A little laterhe pulled out his handkerchief, and, as might have been expected, thepowder flew out, scattering from the paper. A few moments later aboy began to sneeze, and soon the whole room was doing it--even theprofessor.

  Now Professor Skeel was no simpleton, if he was mean, and he at oncedetected the irritating powder. He realized at once that some one haddone it for a trick, and he had seen the paper fall from Tom's pocket,as the stuff scattered.

  "Fairfield!" he exclaimed angrily, "did you scatter that powder?"

  "Not intentionally, sir."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean that I did not know it was there. Some one must have put it inmy pocket for a joke."

  "Nonsense! Do you expect me to believe that?" the professor askedsharply of Tom.

  "It's the truth, sir."

  "Preposterous! I don't believe you!"

  "Sir!" exclaimed our hero, for he was not in the habit of being toldthat he spoke an untruth.

  "Don't contradict me!" stormed the teacher. "I say you did it onpurpose--er--a-ker-choo! On purpose--ker-choo! I have known it tobe done before, in other classes, but never in mine. I will have nononsense! Ker-choo!"

  The professor was having hard work to talk, for he sneezed quite often,as, in fact, did every one in the class.

  "This foolishness will have to stop!" he declared. "I am certain you putthat powder in your own pocket, Fairfield."

  "I did not, sir."

  "Ha! Did any one here put that powder in Fairfield's pocket?" asked theprofessor.

  Naturally the guilty Sam did not answer.

  "There, you see!" exclaimed Mr. Skeel, triumphantly. "I knew you didit--ker-choo! But I have no doubt others may have been implicated, and Iwill punish the whole class. You will all of you write me out a hundredlines of Caesar."

  "That is not fair, sir," spoke Tom boldly.

  "What! You dare to tell me that!" stormed Mr. Skeel.

  "It is not fair," insisted Tom. "Either I alone am responsible, which Ideny, or some one else is. I assure you, sir, that no one in the classentered with me into any trick to do this thing."

  "I don't believe you. The whole class will be punished unless the guiltyone confesses--and that includes you!" and the professor looked angrilyat Tom.

  Sam, of course, would not admit his part in the affair, and as it wasimpossible to have the class remain longer in the powder-infested room,the students were dismissed. But Professor Skeel would not remit thepunishment.

  "Say, this is
tough luck--to have to write out all that Latin, forsomething we didn't do," complained Frank Nelson.

  "I should say so," added Harry Morse. "Why don't you own up to it,Fairfield, and save our hides."

  "Because I didn't do it intentionally."

  "Honestly?"

  "Of course."

  "Say, if Tom says he didn't do it, he didn't," declared Jack.

  "I guess that's right," agreed Harry. "Excuse me, Tom," and, to thecredit of Tom's classmates, one and all expressed their belief in hisinnocence. That is, all but Sam, and he kept quiet, avoiding our hero.But, to ward off suspicion, Sam growled louder than anyone about thetask.

  "I'd like to get hold of the fellow who used that powder," complainedEd. Ward.

  "You won't have to look far for him, I guess," said Jack, in a voicethat only Tom heard.

  "Do you think Sam did it?" asked Tom.

  "I sure do. But you want to be certain of your proof against him beforeyou accuse him!"

  "I will," declared Tom. "I'll do a bit of detective work."

  But he had no clews to work on, and, though he was sure his enemy hadmade him and the others suffer, he could prove nothing, for the paper inwhich the powder was wrapped was blank.

 

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