On Your Mark! A Story of College Life and Athletics

by Ralph Henry Barbour

  CHAPTER IV

  HAL HAS AN IDEA

  It seemed to Allan during the next few days that the bulky form ofPeter Burley was bent upon haunting him. On Tuesday morning, inEnglish, he was aware of Burley's presence a few rows behind him;when he looked around, it was to encounter the big fellow's smilingregard. There was really nothing offensive in that smile; it was merelyone of intense friendliness, quite unconventional in its intensity,but it irritated Allan greatly. Why couldn't Burley let him alone?Just because he had kept him from falling and lugged him to thedressing-tent, he seemed to have an idea that Allan was his especialproperty. And then the cheek of scrawling his silly name on a fellow'sdoor! And yelling like a three-ply idiot at the track!

  Perhaps the fact that Burley, whoever and whatever he was, was markedlypopular rather increased Allan's prejudice. Wherever Burley sat inclass there was invariably a good deal of subdued noise and laughter,and when he left the hall it was always as the center of a smallcircle of fellows, above which Burley towered head and shoulders.Secretly, Allan envied Burley's success with his fellows, but inconversation with Smiths he dubbed Burley a mountebank. Hal was visiblyimpressed with the word and used it unflaggingly the rest of the year.

  Wednesday, Burley was again on the field, but this time he made noremarks as Allan passed him on the track; merely smiled and nodded withhis offensive familiarity and then turned his attention to the footballpractise. As usual, he was the center of a group, and after Allan hadpassed the turn he heard their laughter and wondered if Burley hadselected him as a butt for his silly jokes. After that Allan saw himat least once a day until on the following Wednesday night, when thefreshman election took place in Grace Hall, and Burley leaped into evengreater, and to Allan more offensive, prominence.

  There were two leading candidates for the presidency, and, contraryto the usual custom, the opposing forces had failed to arrange acompromise and a distribution of offices. The contest was prolongedand exciting. On the ninth ballot, Mordaunt, a St. Mathias fellow, wonamidst the howls of the opposition. The rival candidate was electedsecretary, but promptly and somewhat heatedly declined. New nominationswere called for, and Burley was proposed simultaneously from twosides of the room. His name met with loud applause. Burley, sittingunconcernedly near the door, grinned his appreciation of the joke. Twoother names were offered, and then the balloting began. On the firstballot, Peter Burley, of Blackwater, Col., was elected.

  Burley tried to get on to his feet to refuse the honor, but owing tothe fact that three companions held him down while the chairman rappedwildly for order, he failed to gain recognition. The next moment theelection was made unanimous. Allan grunted his disapproval. Hal said itdidn't much matter who was secretary; anybody could be that.

  Hal accompanied Allan back to the latter's room and stayed until late,talking most of the time about his chances of making the varsity squad,what he was going to do if he didn't, and how he didn't give a rapanyway.

  "Of course, I can make the freshman team all right, but what's that?They have only four outside games scheduled, and two of those don'tamount to anything; just high schools. The only game they go away foris the one with Dexter. And this thing of working hard for a month toplay the Robinson freshmen isn't what it's cracked up to be."

  "Who will win?" asked Allan, suppressing a yawn.

  "That's the trouble. It's more'n likely that Robinson will. We've gota lot of good men--fast backs and a mighty brainy little quarter--butwe haven't got any support for our center. Cheesman's a wonder, but hecan't do much with guards like Murray and Kirk beside him. Why, Kirkdoesn't weigh a hundred and seventy, and Murray's only a hundred andeighty-something. Poor is going to issue another call for candidates;he's going to ask every man of a hundred and seventy-five or over tocome out. Say!"

  Hal sat up suddenly in the Morris chair and looked like a GreatDiscoverer.

  "Say what?" murmured Allan, drowsily.

  "What's the matter with that man Burley?"

  "A good deal, I should say, if you ask me," answered Allan.

  "I mean for a guard," said Smiths, impatiently.

  "He probably never saw a football," objected Allan. "They don't play itout West, do they?"

  "Don't they, though! Look at Michigan and Wisconsin and--and the restof them!"

  "I refuse."

  "Why, Burley's just the man! He must weigh two hundred if he weighs apound!"

  "Looks as though he might weigh a ton. But if he doesn't know thegame----"

  "How do you know he doesn't?"

  "I don't. But if he did know it, wouldn't he have been out before this?"

  Smiths was silenced for a moment.

  "Well, even if he doesn't know it, he can be taught, I guess. And we'vegot a whole lot of science now; what we need is beef."

  "Burley looks more like an ass than a cow," said Allan, disagreeably.Smiths stared.

  "Say, what's he done to you, anyway? You seem to be beastly sore onhim."

  "I've told you what he's done."

  "Oh, that! Besides, he lugged you off the track; that's nothing to getmad about, is it?"

  "I suppose not; I'm not mad about that--or anything else. He just--justmakes me tired."

  "Well, I'll bet he's our man." Smiths jumped up and seized his cap."I'll run over and tell Poor."

  "What, at this time of night?"

  "Pshaw! it's only eleven-thirty. He'll be glad to know about it."

  "He'll probably pitch you down-stairs, and serve you right."

  "Not much he won't. Good night."

  "Good night," answered Allan. "I've got some surgeon's plaster, if youneed it."

  Hal Smiths slammed the door and took the front porch in one leap. Thenthe gate crashed. Allan listened intently.

  "That's funny!" he muttered. "He must have missed the lamp-post!"

  He took up a book, found a pencil, and opened the table-drawer insearch of a pad. As he did so, his eyes fell on a folded sheet of linedpaper. He read the penciled words on it--"Peter Burley"--and, refoldingit after a moment of indecision, tucked it back in a corner of thedrawer, frowning deeply the while.

  Allan didn't see Hal the next day; neither was the objectionable Burleyvisible on the field in the afternoon when Allan ran his first practiseover the mile. Kernahan didn't hold the watch on him, the distance wasunfamiliar to him, and he lost all idea of his time after the fourthlap, and ended pretty well tuckered out.

  "All right," said the trainer, when it was over. "You ran it a bit toofast at the start. But you'll get onto it after a while."

  On Friday Allan saw Hal only for an instant and had no chance toquestion him as to the result of his midnight visit to the freshmanfootball captain. Consequently, it was not until Saturday thathe learned of Burley's appearance on the field as a candidate foradmission into the freshman team. There was no track work thatafternoon, since the Erskine varsity played State University. Allanwent out to the field alone and watched the game from the season-ticketholders' stand, and cheered quite madly when the Erskine quarter-back,availing himself for the first time of the new rules, seemed to passthe ball to a trio of plunging backs, and after an instant of delay setoff almost alone around State's left end with the pigskin cuddled inhis arm, and flew down the field for over seventy yards to a touch-down.

  That settled the score for the first half, and the teams trotted offwith honors even. There was a good deal of dissatisfaction expressed inAllan's neighborhood over the playing of the home team, and much gloomyprophecy was indulged in in regard to the outcome of the final andmost important game of the season--that with Erskine's old-time rival,Robinson University.

  About the middle of the intermission, Allan heard his name called, andlooked down to see a small, sandy-haired fellow waving a note-bookat him. Allan waved back, and the owner of the note-book--the latterhis never-absent badge of office--climbed up the seats and was dulypummeled and laid hold of on his way. Tommy Sweet was a Hilltonfellow, and considering that he had been a class ahead of Allan attha
t school, the two had been quite friendly there until Sweet hadgone up to Erskine. So far Allan had not seen much of him, for Tommywas "on the Purple," as he liked to put it, and was an extremely busyyouth. Tommy's friends declared he would find something to do if he wasstrapped in bed.

  The key-note of Tommy was eagerness. His wide-open blue eyes werealways staring about the world in search for something to engage hisattention, and his ridiculously small mouth was forever pursed intosomething between a grin and an exclamation-point. His hair was justthe color of tow, and the freckles which covered every availableportion of his face were several shades darker, but harmonizedperfectly. He was tireless in the search for news for the Purple, andwhen it came to activity would have made the proverbial ant or beaverlook like a sluggard. Tommy thought sleep a criminal waste of time, andeven begrudged the moments spent in eating.

  Tommy was only perfectly happy when doing four things at once; lessthan four left him dull and dissatisfied. Clarke Mason once said:"I'll bet some day Tommy will commit second-degree murder so they'llgive him hard labor for life." For the rest he was a cheerful, likablefellow, aggressively honest and painfully conscientious.

  "What did you think of that run of Cutler's?" he asked, breathlessly,as he sank onto the seat at Allan's side. "Peach, wasn't it? It'llshow up great in the diagram I'm making; see!" He opened his note-bookand exhibited a puzzling maze of lines and dots, figures and letters."That's the first half. Everything's there--runs, kicks, plunges,penalties, the whole show."

  "What's it for?" asked Allan. "Anything to do with geometry?"

  "Why, no; it's-- Oh, quit your kidding! It's to go with my report ofthe game. It shows how the gains were made and who made 'em. And I'veintroduced something new in diagrams, too. See these figures along theedge here--4:17, 4:22, and so on?"

  "Well, I see something there, I think," answered Allan, cautiously.

  "Those signify the time each play was made," said Tommy, triumphantly."That's never been done before, you know."

  "I see. But it must keep you pretty busy. Do you have to write the gameup, too?"

  "Oh, yes." Tommy showed three or four pages of awful-looking scrawlsfrom a fountain-pen. "That's done in a sort of shorthand, and I writeit out full length at the office. Say, where did you tell me yourroom was? I meant to put it down, but forgot it. Purdy's? Oh, yes; Iknow where that is. I want to come around some evening, if I can everfind the time. How are you getting on? Anything I can do for you? Anyfellows you'd like to meet? No? Well, let me know if I can do anythingfor you. Very glad to, you know. That was quite a race you made theother day. Billy seems to have taken a fancy to you, doesn't he? He'sall right, Allan; you shine up to him and-- Hello! there's a fellow Iwant to see. Come and see me, will you? Twenty-two Sesson, you know. Solong, old chap!"

  Tommy hurried pell-mell down the stand, shaking off detaining hands,and disappeared into the throng. Allan took a long breath; he felt asthough a small hurricane had been playing with him. The teams came ontothe field again and the second half began. It proved uninteresting,and only the superior weight of the Erskine eleven won them the gamefinally by the close margin of a safety. Allan followed the throng outof the enclosure and across toward the locker house and the gate. Buthalf-way there the crowd divided, and Allan presently found himselflooking on at the practise of the freshman teams. The first team hadthe ball on the second's five-yard line and was trying very hardto put it over to an accompaniment of command and entreaty from thecoaches.

  "Third down and two to go!" some one shouted. A shrill voice called ajumble of figures and a tandem slid forward at a tangent, and for aninstant confusion reigned. Then suddenly a roar of laughter went up,the line of watchers broke forward, and Allan found himself directlyin the path of what at first glance looked like an avalanche of canvasand leather. Springing back, he escaped being borne along by thegroup of struggling players, in the center of which, rising like acity sky-scraper out of a huddle of shanties, stood forth, calm anddetermined, the countenance of Peter Burley.

  In his arms, struggling but helpless, was the first eleven's lefthalf-back, and to his back and legs and, in short, to every portionof his anatomy, hung the enemy, for all the world like bees on a nestin swarming time. Behind them the second eleven pushed and shoved,and relentlessly the whole mass moved down the field. And somewhere,drowned by the laughter of the spectators and the despairing shrieks of"Down! Down!" from the abducted half-back, sounded feebly the referee'swhistle.

  One by one the impeditive players dropped away, and Burley'striumphant advance toward the enemy's goal was stopped by the refereeand two coaches. Burley set down the half-back, in whose arms thepigskin was still clutched, but did not release his grasp until hisobligations were hurriedly but clearly explained to him. Then he pattedthe half-back on the shoulder in a paternal manner and retraced hissteps to the enthusiastic applause of the convulsed throng. The secondteam hugged as much of him as they could encompass and he smiledcheerfully, but was evidently still somewhat perplexed. The ball wentto the second on her eight yards and the game continued, Burley, atright guard, looming head and shoulders above his companions.

  Allan watched the game for a few moments longer, and then continued hisjourney. Somehow the calm, inscrutable manner in which the big freshmanhad strode down the field in unquestioning obedience to what he hadsupposed to be his duty appealed to Allan. It had been awfully funny,and Allan smiled as he recalled it. But the incident had held for himsomething more than humor, just what he hardly knew; but whatever itwas, and even though he would have found it difficult to give a name toit, it completely changed his feeling toward Burley. By the time he hadreached Mrs. Purdy's front gate, he was wondering whether Burley stilldesired his acquaintance.