CHAPTER X
A BOTTLE OF LINIMENT
Tom thought of many things as he walked up the silent campus at Randall,and prepared to go to his room. He went over again every happening fromthe time Miss Philock had grudgingly admitted him at Fairview, until hehad bidden Ruth Clinton good-by. Tom had a very distinct mental pictureof two girls' faces now, whereas, up to that evening, he had had butone. They were the faces of Ruth and Madge.
"Hang it all!" he burst out, as he was on the steps of the westdormitory. "I must be falling in love! This will never do, with thefootball season about to open. Better cut it out, Tom Parsons!"
His musing was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a figure comingquickly from the teachers' residence, which was directly in front of thedormitory building. The figure exclaimed:
"Wait a minute, please."
"Proctor Zane!" whispered Tom to himself. "He thinks he's caught me.Probably he doesn't know I've got a permit. I'll have some fun withhim."
A moment later the proctor stood beside Tom.
"Are you aware of the hour?" asked Mr. Zane, in what he meant to be asarcastic tone.
"I--I believe it's nearly two o'clock," replied Tom. "I will tell youexactly in a moment, as soon as I look at my watch," and with a flourishhe drew his timepiece from his pocket. "It lacks just eight minutes oftwo," he added.
"I didn't ask you the time!" exclaimed the proctor.
"I beg your pardon, sir; I thought you did," spoke Tom.
"Aren't you getting in rather late?" asked the official, as he drew outhis book and prepared to enter Tom's name.
"Well, it might be called late," admitted Tom, as if there was somedoubt about it. "That is, unless you choose to look at it from anotherstandpoint, and call it early morning. On the whole, I think I preferthe latter method. It is more comforting, Mr. Zane."
"None of your impertinence, Parsons!" exclaimed the proctor. "You areout after hours, and you will report to my office directly after chapel.This matter of students staying out must be broken up."
"I agree with you," went on Tom easily, "but I'm afraid I can't reportto you after chapel to-morrow, or, rather, to-day, Mr. Zane."
"You can't? What do you mean, Parsons?"
"Why, you see, I have to attend a lecture by Moses--I beg yourpardon--Dr. Churchill--at that hour."
The proctor, as Tom could see in the light of the hall lamp, as the raysstreamed from the glass door of the dormitory, looked pained at theappellation of "Moses" to the venerable head of the college. The boysall called Dr. Churchill that among themselves, though they meant nodisrespect. They had evolved the title from his name; from the factthat, as one of the first students put it, the original Moses went up ona hill to establish the first church--hence Church--Hill; and thus"Moses."
"I am sure Dr. Churchill will excuse you when he knows the circumstances,Parsons," went on the proctor with a malicious smile. "You will report tome for being out after hours without permission."
"Oh, but I have permission," spoke Tom, as he drew out a note which thepresident had given him. "I beg your pardon for not mentioning itbefore. Very stupid of me, I'm sure," and this time it was Tom's turn togrin.
The proctor looked at the permit, saw that it was in regular form, andknew that he was beaten. Without a word he turned and went back to hisapartments, but the look he gave Tom augured no good to the talentedpitcher. Tom went to his room, chuckling to himself.
"Well?" asked Phil, who was not asleep when Tom entered. "Did you seeRuth?"
"Yes, old chap. It's all right," and Tom told something of hisvisit--that is, as much as he thought Phil would care to know. "Yoursister and Miss Tyler are both sorry you were laid up," he went on.
"I guess I'll be out inside of a week," said Phil. "The doc was here awhile ago, and left some new liniment that he said would soften up thestrained muscles and ligaments. I tried some, and I feel better already.Say, put that blamed alarm clock out in the hall, will you? I can'tsleep with the ticking of it."
Tom did so, and then undressed. He turned the light down low, and, as heput on his pajamas, he knew, by the regular breathing of Phil, that theinjured lad had fallen into a slumber. Sid, too, was sound asleep. Tomsat down on the old sofa, sinking far down into the depths of the weaksprings. It creaked like an old man uttering his protest againstrheumatic joints, and, in spite of the new leg Phil had put on and thestrengthening boards, it threatened to collapse. Tom sat there in thehalf darkness dreaming--reflecting of his visit to Fairview. He imaginedhe could see, in the gloom of a distant corner, a fair face--which onewas it?
"Oh, I've got to cut this out," he remarked, and then he extinguishedthe light and got into bed.
The next day was Saturday, and as several of the football squad were alittle lame, Coach Lighton only put them through light practice. Thusthe absence of Phil was not felt. He was much better, the new linimentworking like a charm.
One afternoon, a few days later, Tom and Sid went for a walk, Tom as amatter of training, and Sid because he wanted to get some specimens foruse in his biology class. They strolled toward the town of Haddonfield,and shortly after crossing the bridge over Sunny River, saw on the roadahead of them two figures.
"There are Langridge and Gerhart," remarked Tom.
"Yes," spoke Sid. "They're quite chummy for a freshman and a sophomore.Langridge tried to save Gerhart from being hazed, but the fellowswouldn't stand for it."
"I should say not. He ought to take his medicine the same as the rest ofus had to. But look, they don't seem to want to meet us."
As Tom spoke, Langridge and his crony suddenly left the road and took tothe woods which lined the highway on either side.
"I wonder what they did that for?" went on Tom.
"Oh, I guess they don't like our style," was Sid's opinion. "We're notsporty enough for them."
But it was not for this reason that Langridge and Gerhart did not wantto meet their two schoolmates.
"Lucky we saw them in time," observed Gerhart to the other, as he andLangridge sneaked along. "They might have asked us why we had gone totown."
"We shouldn't have told them. I guess they won't pay much attention tous. Are you going to work the trick to-day?"
"To-night, if I have a chance. There's going to be a meeting of the gleeclub, and Tom and Sid both will go. That will leave Phil alone in theroom, and I can get in and make the change."
"Be careful you're not caught. It's a risky thing to do."
"I know it, but it's worth the risk if I can get back on the team.Besides, it won't hurt Clinton much."
"Well, it's your funeral, not mine. You've got to stand for it all. Idid my share helping plan it. You'll have to take the blame."
"I will. Don't worry."
"But what puzzles me is how Clinton can help knowing it when you changethe liniment. As soon as he uses it he'll see that something is wrong,and he'll recall that you were in the room."
"Oh, no, he won't. You see, the two liquids are so nearly alike thatit's hard to tell the difference. Then, the beauty of it is that the oneI'm going to put in place of his regular liniment doesn't take effectfor twelve hours. So he'll never connect me with his trouble."
"All right. It's up to you. But come on, let's get out on the roadagain. I don't fancy tramping through the woods."
They emerged at a point some distance back of Tom and Sid, who continuedtheir walk.
"Did I tell you I met Langridge and Gerhart the night I went to seePhil's sister?" asked Tom after a pause.
"No. What were they doing?"
Tom related the conversation he had heard, and gave his speculations asto what Gerhart could have meant.
"I guess he's counting on Phil being laid up so long that he can havehis place at quarter-back," was Sid's opinion, and Tom agreed.
The specimens of unfortunate frogs, to be used in biology, were stowedaway in a box Sid carried, and then he and Tom turned back to college.That night they went to a rehearsal of the glee club.
"Do you mind staying alone, old chap?" asked Tom of Phil as theyprepared to depart.
"Not a bit. Glad to get rid of you. I can move about the room, doc says,and it isn't so bad as it might be. I'll be glad to be alone, so I canthink."
"All right. So long, then."
It was quiet in the room after Tom and Sid had departed. Phil tried toread, but he was too nervous, and took no interest in the book. It wasout of the question to study, and, as his shoulder ached, he went backto bed again. He was in a half doze, when the door opened and Gerhartentered the room.
"Hope I didn't disturb you, old chap," he began with easyfamiliarity--entirely too easy, for a freshman, Phil thought with ascowl. "Parsons and Henderson out?" asked Gerhart, as if he did not knowit.
"Yes, at the meeting of the glee club," answered Phil shortly.
"That's so. I'd forgotten. Well, here's a note for Parsons. Will you seethat he gets it?" And Gerhart walked over to the table and laid anenvelope down. There was a miscellaneous collection on the table. Amongother things was a bottle of liniment which the doctor had left forPhil. "I'll just leave the note here," went on Gerhart. "That's a swellpicture over your bed," he said quickly, pointing to a sporting printthat hung over Phil's cot.
Naturally, the injured lad turned to see where Gerhart pointed.
"Oh, it will do very well," he answered. He rather resented thisfamiliarity on the part of a freshman. Still, as Gerhart had called toleave a note for Tom, Phil could not order him out, as he felt likedoing. When Phil turned his head back toward the middle of the room thevisitor was standing near the door.
"I guess I'll be going," he said. "Hope you'll be out soon. I'm going tomake another try with Lighton, and see if he won't let me play."
"Um!" spoke Phil, as he turned over to doze.
Gerhart, with an ugly smile on his face, hurried to his room in the eastdormitory. Langridge was waiting for him there.
"Well?" asked the former pitcher.
"It's done!" exulted Gerhart, producing from beneath his coat a bottlethat had contained liniment. "I threw the stuff out, and now I'll getrid of the bottle. I guess Phil Clinton won't play football any morethis season!" He put the bottle far back on a closet shelf.
"Why don't you throw that away?" asked Langridge.
"I may need it," answered Gerhart. "I'll save it for a while."
A Quarter-Back's Pluck: A Story of College Football Page 10