CHAPTER XXV.
THE ICE CARNIVAL.
"All ready for the hundred yards race," called out Mr. Parks, whowas master of ceremonies. For Queen's, Jimmy Turner, Hillard andRobbins, bareheaded and dressed in jerseys and knickerbockers withlong blue socks, came to the mark, followed quickly by the Warwicktrio,--Sumner, Perkins and Hallowell. The latter were easilydistinguished by their gray jerseys and gray socks. They looked fitto race, and the Queen's contingent eyed them respectfully.
"Are the judges ready?" called Mr. Parks, who had decided toofficiate at the start. An assistant dashed down over the course andanswered affirmatively with a wave of a white handkerchief.
"All ready, boys," shouted Mr. Parks. "Start on the pistol." The sixboys set themselves in their favorite attitudes for a quick start,and at the report of the pistol, dashed off like the wind. Sumnerand Turner went to the front at the first rush. Side by side theyflew along, each striving for a few inches lead while on their heelscame the other four bunched almost together. At the half distance itwas any one's race. Jimmy had now cleared the rest of the fellowssufficiently, and was where he had a little wider space to travel.He bent his body almost at right angles to his legs, and drove aheadwith all the power that was in him. Ten yards from the finish youcould not have picked the winner, but in the last few feet Jimmyfairly threw himself forward and crossed a few inches ahead of hisrival.
A yell which echoed far over the icy river and was thrown back by thedistant woods, greeted the winner, and a crowd of Queen's fellowstore after him, patted him on the back and tried to get him on theirshoulders; but in the effort some one slipped and fell and pulled allthe rest down with him. Jimmy tore himself free, well pleased that hehad won. He and Sumner shook hands.
"You beat me fair and square," said the latter. "No kick coming fromme." They skated back side by side to the starting line where Frankhugged Jimmy delightedly.
"I knew you could do it," he said.
"Well, I'm glad I won, and I'm glad that you are more like yourself.When we started you looked like a funeral."
"I do feel better," said Frank, "now that we have one of the three,but I wonder what's keeping the folks and David. They should havebeen here at two o'clock."
"Clear the way, clear the way," shouted the clerks of the course, asthey flew back and forth. "The mile race will start in a very fewminutes. The skaters are on their way up the course now. Keep backand give them room!"
Immediately at the finish of the hundred, Mr. Parks had headed tothe mark up the river, whither he had been preceded by the Queen'srepresentatives. The half mile was being left to the last as itwas considered to be the best race. It was to be the climax of theafternoon. While the crowd strained their gaze up river, the roar ofa fast traveling motor car was heard.
"Here they are now," said Jimmy. "And, gee whiz, how they arecoming!" The boys could see on the open road a big gray car fairlyleaping toward them. Frank, even at the distance, recognized itas the one that had brought his parents and Colonel Powers thatmorning. A smile lighted up his face.
"That'll help some to have David here," he said.
In a few minutes the car came to a halt on the road opposite them,and a voice called, "Frank Armstrong, oh, Frank Armstrong, you'rewanted."
Frank turned and made his way through the crowd to the side of thecar. Colonel Powers held a package in his hand.
"David is determined that you are to skate on Ruddock blades, Frank.When we were visiting you after luncheon, he took the car and went toMilton, searched the stores and duplicated the skates that some onestole from you."
Frank could not answer for the choking sensation in his throat, andwhen he looked at David the latter grinned back at him merrily.
"Get them onto your feet," he cried, "quick. You'll find the screwholes of the other ones will be just right for these. They are exactduplicates."
Frank could not answer just then, but he pulled the paper off theskates.
"And in case you didn't have any screws to fit," continued David,"I brought some screws and a screw driver. Get them on quick." Frankran to the river bank, and in a few minutes had the new skates firmlyattached to his stout shoes. Then he threw the old ones down andsprang to his feet. How good they felt, how light, how different fromthe other clogs! He took a spin around on them, stamped his feet, andfelt himself another person, fit to fight for his life, and, betterstill, to fight and win. His antics were watched with interest by theoccupants of the car.
Jimmy's amazement knew no bounds when he saw how Frank was shod.
"David made a record run to Milton, ransacked the town and broughtthese to me."
"Isn't he a brick?" said Jimmy.
"They don't make many like him, I tell you."
"Well, you look like a winner, now; your face isn't so long as itwas," said Jimmy. "I'm betting on you. Did you notice Chip Dixon'sskates? They are Ruddocks, and they look mightily like yours. Theyare brand new, too. I wonder!!"
"I can't believe it," said Frank. "He wouldn't dare do it. But Ithought he grinned sarcastically when I met him this afternoon, andhe saw my old skates in my hand. But maybe we'll surprise him yet."
"Here they come, here they come," shouted the crowd. Far up the rivercould be seen a lot of flying arms and legs.
"Warwick's ahead."
"No, it's Queen's; can't you see the blue jerseys?"
Nearer and nearer they came. Then it was seen that two gray jerseysand a blue jersey were in the leading group, while at some distancebehind, the other three plugged along. But it was plain that a grayjersey headed the first group, only a few strides ahead, but stillahead; and as the struggling skaters came flying towards the finishthat gray jersey seemed to lengthen out, pulling along with it theother gray jersey.
"Warwick, Warwick, Warwick," yelled the crowd. It was Warwick indeed,and all Warwick. Two of her skaters flashed over the line first andsecond, and the race was ended. It was now the turn of the Warwickadherents to expend their enthusiasm on the winner, and this they didwith great noise and shouting. Morgan was announced as the winner,and escorted to where his team-mates were resting on a pile ofblankets on the boards on the ice.
"It's up to you now, Frank," said Jimmy, as Mr. Parks announced tothe crowd that Warwick had won. "It's now one apiece, and a tie. Thehalf mile race will decide it.
"And you, Mr. Frank Armstrong, have got to decide that tie," addedJimmy. "You look like a winner now. Come on, I'll go a part way up. Iwon't go all the way because I want to see the finish. I'm going tostand about fifty yards from the finish and as you pass me I'm goingto yell at the top of my lungs, GO! That will be a signal for youto put everything you have left into the business. Don't forget, puteverything you have in you into these skates. I'll yell loud enoughto wake the dead."
"All right," said Frank, "I'll be waiting, but I'll try to put all Ihave into the skates before that time. I may not be near enough upto get any benefit from your plan, but I'll be hoping." They werenow half way to the start of the race, and Jimmy turned back. Dixonsculled slowly past, and his face showed surprise when he glanced atthe bright new runners under Frank's feet. Frank simply nodded, andChip coldly returned the nod.
Up at the start there was a testing of straps and skates and thetightening of belts, for on this race hung the school championship,as the six contestants well knew. Mr. Parks was very careful aboutthe start. He told them that they must not cross-cut ahead of anotherskater unless they were well ahead. Such crossing, if not followedaccording to instructions, would constitute a foul and the one whocommitted it would be ruled out.
"Do you all understand?"
"Yes," came the answer.
Away down the course the crowd waited breathlessly, necks stretchedand eyes straining. Suddenly the pistol's flash was seen.
"They're off," roared the crowd.
From the start of the half to the finish was practically a straightline broken only by a slight curve about one third of the way up thecourse, so that the skaters could be seen almost
every yard of thedistance.
On the racers came, the six spread across the ice in nearly astraight line. Big Channing towered above the others, a thing thatcould be plainly seen as the racers came sweeping along. Next toChanning was Wheeler, then Frank, while Chip had the outside course.At the half distance Channing had forged a few feet to the front, notover six or seven at the most. Chip Dixon was almost abreast withhim. Frank was skating third, but was moving easily. The others werebeginning to straggle back, the pace being too hot for them.
The crowd was now yelling like mad, and the names of the racers weremingled by many voices.
"Channing! Wheeler! Armstrong! Warwick! Queen's! Dixon!"
On they came, Channing holding his own a couple of yards in advance.Do his best, Frank could not catch either him or Dixon. He felt thathe might go faster, but for some reason could not make his legs driveany harder. On the skaters dashed and now they were entering the laneof human beings.
True to his word, Jimmy had wormed himself through the crowd, and wasstationed forty or fifty yards from the finish line. He leaned farover to get a view of the skaters, and saw with dismay that Frank wasbehind. As they neared him he gathered into himself a mighty breath,and as the three flashed past him, yelled "Go!"
It was so shrill a cry that the spectators jumped from the very forceof it. On Frank, the yell of his friend, the signal he had beenwaiting for and thought would never come, was as though a spring haduncoiled inside him. At the shout he fairly sprang from the ice, andin that one leap reached Channing who, at the rush of the boy at hisleft, turned his head.
Another leap carried Frank even, and then something like the power ofa six cylinder motor grew within him. He must, he would win for theschool. They couldn't beat him! And driving his legs like pistons, heshot ahead of Channing who struggled desperately to make up the lostground, but without avail. Frank went over the finish line fairlyflying, at least two good yards ahead of his rival. Chip in hiseffort to follow Frank, when the rush of the latter carried him past,put too much strain on his tired muscles, stumbled and fell, andbefore he got to his feet and could cross the line, a Warwick skaterslipped across ahead of him. He was officially counted out.
How Queen's did yell! This time they got Frank up on their shouldersand lugged him up the course for twenty-five yards or more.
"Armstrong! Armstrong! Armstrong!"
"That was some race, I tell you," was the usual greeting between anytwo Queen's boys who happened to be within reach of each other, andthen they fell upon each other, and embraced, pounding violently oneach other's backs. Over in the motor car David was swinging hiscap, and even the dignified seniors--Colonel Powers and Mr. andMrs. Armstrong--were standing up, clapping their hands and shoutingapplause. It was a great finish to a great day.
* * * * *
The term closed on the following Wednesday and it was a jolly partywhich rolled out of the gates of Queen's in the big gray motor carbound for Christmas vacation and home. Colonel Powers, whose businesshad kept him in Milton, sent Henry and the car to bring the boys totown. David was the host now and he piled Frank, Jimmy, Lewis, theCodfish and even Wee Willie Patterson into the big motor. Suit caseswere tucked wherever a suit case could stick.
It was a happy crowd that gathered around the Armstrong table thatnight for supper, for Frank had insisted that they must all come tosupper before they took their several ways homeward. And what arumpus they made and what a chatter, and what stories of the doingsat Queen's during that first term they unfolded to their elders. Mrs.Armstrong instead of being shocked at all the noise simply beamedwith joy. Finally the leave-taking came and the boys parted withbest wishes for the holidays and with great plans for the future atQueen's. And of that future of Frank Armstrong at Queen's you willhear in the next book of this series, entitled: Frank Armstrong'sSecond Term.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_. Obvious punctuation errors repaired. Both "postage stamp" and "postage-stamp" retained in the text.
pg. 12, "Honywell" changed to "Honeywell" (Warren is Honeywell) pg. 109, "think's" changed to "thinks" (even Horton thinks) pg. 269, "punk" changed to "puck" (puck right through) pg. 311, extra "at" removed (to yell at the top)
Frank Armstrong at Queens Page 25