CHAPTER XIII.
LEARNING TO RUN THE HUNDRED.
Frank was at the gymnasium at 2 o'clock the next afternoon, garbed ina running rig that the Codfish had given him.
"How did you come to have running clothes with you?" asked Frank,surprised when the Codfish produced from the recesses of his trunk aneat blue jersey and a pair of spotless running trousers.
"My fond papa said he thought I ought to take some exercise when hesent me up here. He told me he was a peach of a runner in his schooldays, and talked so much about the way he walloped every one in sighton the track that I got kind of ambitious, and let mother put thesethings in."
"Why don't you go out for running yourself? You ought to make arunner," and Frank gazed admiringly at the long legs which Gleasonhad spread out on the window seat, the lower parts of them dressed ingorgeous green socks.
"Oh, I don't like to fatigue myself. If I run I grow weary, and ifI'm weary I must rest, and I'd much rather rest without being wearyfirst. Don't feel backward about taking the duds, old chappie,because your Uncle Dudley will never put them on. If they hadsomething like a 15-yard dash I might get out and make a record ortwo myself, but since the shortest distance is a hundred yards andthe longest is a mile, I guess I'll put my spare time in some otherway."
"And how about your father's ambitions for you?"
"Oh, dad won't mind. I don't believe he was much of a runner anyway.He just lets his imagination carry him away."
So Frank became the possessor of a fine outfit, and wore it thatafternoon with considerable pride. Patsy nodded pleasantly as he cameonto the track. "See you're on time," he said. "Now jog around thetrack very easily two or three times just to get limbered up, andthen we will have a few starts with Collins and you. Felt sore thismorning, did you?"
"Legs pained me when I woke up this morning. Dreamed that I fell outof an aeroplane."
"It's the jumping," said Patsy. "I've known fellows when they beganto jump to be so sore they'd have to walk with a cane. But you'llsoon be over that."
"I sincerely trust so; it's no fun."
Patsy was like the manager of a three-ring circus, as any tracktrainer, who knows what he is there for and who is worth his salt,ought to be. He had a word of caution to the long-distance runnerto run flat-footed and save himself for the sprint, if sprint hemust at the end of his race; to the pole-vaulter he reiterated theoft-repeated injunction that to get over the bar when it was 10 feetup meant to pull up with the arms and not altogether a spring fromthe legs; to the hurdler he gave a minute of his valuable attention,indicating where his take-off for the barrier was too near or too faraway, and if he lost too much time in the flight.
"If you're going to hurdle on this track you've got to get down tothe track and run on it and not try to sail through the air." Andeven when he wasn't giving direct coaching, Patsy was making mentalnotes for use later on when they would be of more value to thecoached.
Frank had jogged around several times when Patsy hailed him on one ofhis trips, and said: "Now I want you and Collins and Herring"--thatwas the other sprinter in the school, a second string man toCollins--"to come up to the start of the hundred. We will do a littlework."
The little work consisted in getting down at the starting line,balancing delicately on the balls of the feet--the one just on thestarting line and the other about fourteen inches behind--with thetips of the fingers resting lightly on the ground, and at the soundof the pistol, shooting forward from that position without the delayof a thousandth part of an eye-wink.
On the first trial Frank made a sorry mess of it. The crouchingsprinter's start was new to him. He had started the day before froma straight standing position, but when he got to the crouchingattitude--pictures of which he had seen many times, and as manytimes wondered how runners could possibly start from such an awkwardposition--he found it necessary to come to an upright position beforehe could get under way. Both Collins and Herring gained a stride onhim at the very start, and a stride is a lot in a hundred yard race.
"See here, Armstrong," said Patsy. "The sprinter, that is the fellowwho runs the short distance, hasn't time to start off easy. From theshot he must be moving forward. Now you come straight up. Watch me,"and Patsy dropped down to the racing position, and shot away from itwith an astonishing swiftness that made Frank open his eyes. Patsy inhis time had been one of the best runners, and knew to a nicety justhow to do the trick.
"Come on, now again, and remember that you shoot out and not up," andPatsy held the pistol over his head. "Get ready, set----" but Frankin his eagerness felt that the pistol shot was coming, and dashed offonly to recover in a moment, and return shame-facedly to the mark.
"That would cost you a yard, Armstrong, if it had been an actual raceyou were running. But we'll not penalize you this time. Now again."
Little by little Frank began to get the science of starting. Patsyshowed him the why and wherefore of hole-digging so that the starterwould get a better grip with his feet. In a dozen or more startsFrank showed improvement steadily, and was overjoyed at the praise ofthe trainer.
"You are doing well, Armstrong," said Patsy; "keep it up. Now takea little rest while I see what these high jumpers are doing. Theylook from here as if they were playing leap-frog. Those fellows neverwill learn to turn right when they get in the air," and he hurriedoff to correct some faults his keen eye had detected even from thatdistance. While he was gone the boys pranced around and took a coupleof starts by themselves.
"Have you run much?" inquired Herring, who was a Junior and hadworked hard for what he got. He was not especially well built forsprinting, being a little too stocky and short-legged, but what helacked in form he made up in determination. He had almost reached hislimit in development and never could be a first-rater.
"No," said Frank, "I've never run before; this is my first offence."
"Gee whiz, you'll soon have me lashed to the mast. If you can holdthe gait you strike at the start clear through to the finish, I'llbe third string right off the reel. Here's Patsy back to give us ourtrial on the hundred."
"Now, boys," said Patsy, "this is the last for you to-day. I want youto run this hundred through as fast as you can. Collins, you takethe pole; Herring, you next; and you, Armstrong, have the outside.No crowding. And, Armstrong, don't forget what I told you; don'tlose time getting up--the finish isn't up in the air, it's down thetrack a hundred yards. On your marks!----" The three stepped intothe little holes they had dug for their feet. "Get set!----" Theycrouched and touched the tips of their fingers to the ground, leaningwell forward, necks craned and eyes straight ahead.
"Bang!" went the pistol, and six legs and six arms began to worklike pistons. Frank had somehow remembered his instructions and gota better start even than Herring. He tore along ahead of that runnerwho was making a desperate effort to reach him. Collins was runningfreely on the pole, a half stride in advance. For half the distancethe order remained the same, but then Frank's lack of training andlack of experience began to tell, and Herring reached him. At the80 yards he was running breast to breast with Herring, but thatindividual's bandy but powerful legs and better wind carried himahead from that point. Collins finished first, Herring second, andFrank a good third.
"Well run," shouted a hearty voice from the side of the course asthe three runners pulled up just beyond the finish line; and Frank,looking up, saw Colonel Powers and David at the side of the track. Heran over and shook hands, overjoyed to see them. "Thought you weren'tcoming till Thursday," said Frank, "and this is only Wednesday."
"Well, you see," returned the Colonel, "David couldn't stand it anylonger. We came up to Milton last night intending to go down to EagleIsland to-day to look after the house, but David persuaded me to comeout here instead, and so here we are. But I didn't know you were arunner as well as a swimmer."
"O, I'm a pretty poor apology for a runner. Maybe I'll be able to runsome day and win a point for the school."
"Well, judging by the way you were coming down
the stretch with thosetwo fellows, you would be able to put the Powers family to shame, eh,David?"
"Frank can do anything he undertakes as well as the next one," saidDavid, "and I think if he starts out to run he can do it and win.Don't you remember the race down at St. Augustine, father?"
"Track work is over for the day," said Frank; "come along to thegym while I get into my everyday clothes, and we'll go up to theroom; or, if you would like to, we'll go over and see the footballpractice. David, you remember Jimmy, don't you? Well, he is acandidate for halfback on the school eleven, and in spite of hisbeing a Freshman, I think he'll make it."
"Jimmy was the owner of the _Foam_ that sunk in the foam, was henot?" inquired the Colonel. "I remember how plucky he was when wepicked him out of the water. You all were, for that matter."
"And Lewis Russell is here, too, in the same class with us; theyentered at the first of the term, and I came in three weeks late."
"Is Lewis on the eleven, too?" inquired David.
"No; Lewis' football sun set very early in his career, and now hesits on the bleachers the same as I do, and watches the other fellowsget talked to by the coach.
"How does it come, David, that you changed your mind about school? Ithought you were going to study with a tutor the same as last year,"said Frank.
"The trouble was," said Colonel Powers, "that David, who has been apretty quiet fellow all his life, got a taste of companionship thissummer on the yacht, and when he went back to his tutor, old Mr.Melcher, he found the work drier than ever. So he wanted to know ifhe couldn't come along to Queen's with you."
"Yes," said David for himself. "Before I met you I didn't think I'dgo to school at all, but last summer changed me somehow. I saw what agood time Burton had, and when I thought of you over here making lotsof friends and taking part in things, I wanted to come along."
"Yes, and it happens," said the Colonel, "that Doctor Hobart is apersonal friend of mine, and it was easily arranged that David comehere, though it is nearly the end of October and half the first termgone. The only difficulty about it seems to be, for I have just hada talk with the Doctor, in getting the right kind of a room for him;they are crowded to the limit here."
"Oh, I forgot to tell you that the room part of it is all arranged.He's going to bunk in with me. The night I got your telegram I put itup to Gleason, my room-mate, and he had no objections. The place isnot big, but plenty big enough for us two."
David beamed with joy, and the Colonel expressed his pleasure thatthe boys were to be together again. "David needs companionship tobring him out of himself," he said, "and it is possible that Davidmay be a help to you, Frank."
That night the Colonel and David sat down to table in the schooldining hall together with Frank and Jimmy and Lewis, and when dinnerwas over they strolled under the great elms of the school yard andlistened to the Glee Club singing on the steps of Russell Hall. ToDavid it was like fairy-land.
Frank Armstrong at Queens Page 13