CHAPTER XXI
TELLS HOW THE FOUR LAID PLANS AND HOW BOB PREPARED FOR A VICTORY
Nelson awoke the next day to find himself a hero. Being a hero hasits discomforts, and Nelson encountered them. The smaller boys doggedhis footsteps and were proud and haughty for the rest of the day ifthey succeeded in getting a word from him. The older boys had lesstransparent ways of showing their admiration, but show it they did, andNelson, naturally somewhat shy, suffered much annoyance. This state ofthings, however, lasted but a few days, for the end of the vacationwas almost at hand and the inhabitants of Camp Chicora had many thingsto occupy their minds. The water sports were almost due and on thenext Saturday but one came the final game with Wickasaw, to decide thesummer’s supremacy in baseball. On the following Monday the long tripbegan for all save Bob, Nelson, and Dan, who were to return home onthat day.
During his three days’ absence from camp the nine, minus their captain,had met defeat at the hands of a team from a near-by resort, andBob regretted the fact and resolved that nothing should deter themfrom winding up the baseball season with a decisive victory overtheir particular rival, Camp Wickasaw. With this in view he beganmorning practise, by which there was a good three hours a day ofbatting, fielding, and base-running instead of two as heretofore. Thepreparations for the water carnival interfered somewhat with the work,for Dan and Joe Carter, as well as a couple of the lesser baseballlights, were to take part in the sports. But Bob put in substitutesfrom the scrub when necessary and kept at it, having set his heart onfinal success.
The carnival came on Saturday afternoon and was held in Joy’s Cove, onthe shore of which Camp Trescott was situated. Chicora, Trescott, andWickasaw were the contestants, and the audience numbered fully threehundred persons, friends of the boys of the three camps, visitors fromneighboring hotels, and residents from near-by towns and villages.Chicora went over in the steam-launch, the motor-dory, the skiffs,and the canoes, after an early dinner, with flags flying. Wickasawfollowed them across, and the rival cheers echoed over the lake. CampTrescott was in holiday attire, the camp colors, green and white, beingeverywhere displayed. The pier and adjacent shore were thronged withspectators, and many boats floated on the waters of the cove.
The events started off with the four-oared barge race. Only Chicora andTrescott entered. The course was a little under two miles in lengthand led to a buoy near Evergreen Island and return. Chicora’s four gotthe better of the start, and when the turn was reached they were twolengths to the good. But poor steering around the buoy lost them almostall of that advantage, and the Trescott four were quick to profit. Onthe return course they overtook Chicora’s boat, passed it a few hundredyards from the finish, and crossed the line a good three lengths in thelead. So first honors went to the green and white, and cheers for CampTrescott awoke the echoes.
Chicora did better in the race for steel boats, her entry, manned byJoe Carter, finishing a hundred feet ahead of the Wickasaw boat, whichin turn led the Trescott skiff by many yards.
The fifty-yard swimming race for boys under sixteen brought out alarge number of entries, Chicora offering seven of the number. Herhopes rested on “Kid” Rooke. With such a large field there was lotsof crowding and splashing at the line, and many a good swimmer wasput out of it at the start. Rooke luckily had the forethought to swimunder water for the first eight or ten strokes and so avoided some ofthe youths who, with little hope of winning themselves, were anxiousto get in the way of dangerous rivals. It was a pretty contest fromstart to finish, Rooke fighting it out to the very end with Peterson ofWickasaw and White of Trescott and only winning by an arm’s length infifty seconds. The race over the same course for the elder boys proveda walkover for an eighteen-year-old Wickasaw youth, who never had tohurry, and finished in forty-seven seconds.
In the half-mile event Tom entered for Chicora and found himselfopposed to two Wickasaw and three Trescott fellows. The course was laidstraight out from the landing to a boat moored off Bass Island. Theswimmers were to round the boat and return on the same course. The sixcontestants lined up on the edge of the landing and at the word fromMr. Powers of the Wickasaw Camp dove head foremost and struck out forthe stake-boat.
Tom wasn’t much at sprinting, and so when half the distance out hadbeen covered he was several yards behind the leaders. But the pace hadbeen a fast one, and Tom knew that sooner or later it must slow down.And it did. As the six approached the boat, the leaders, two Trescottfellows, were swimming at ordinary speed and were making hard work ofit. They turned homeward first, but after that dropped rapidly behind.A quarter of the way back Tom, still swimming the same stroke he hadstarted with, passed them and pulled himself into third place. Twentyyards farther on he came abreast of the Wickasaw crack; while, stillmaintaining a good lead, sped the third Trescott entry.
On the landing and along the curving shore of the cove and out on thepoint scantily attired youths were jumping and shouting encouragementto the swimmers. Cheers for Chicora, for Wickasaw, and for Trescottmingled. A hundred yards from the finish it seemed that Trescott hadthe race beyond a doubt. But Tom, twenty yards in the rear and wellpast the Wickasaw rival, still swam steadily, hand over hand, buryinghis face in the water at every stroke, and putting every ounce ofstrength into his work. Not quite every ounce, either, for when someeighty yards from the finish his arms began to move just a littlefaster but not less regularly, and the distance between first andsecond men slowly lessened. Chicora saw this and her cheers took on amore hopeful note.
If Tom couldn’t sprint, at least he had wisely saved something forjust such an emergency as this. It wasn’t so much that he increasedhis stroke as that he put more power into it. With fifty yards yet tocover he had cut the twenty yards in half, and he was still gaining.Trescott’s cries grew frantic, but her representative failed torespond. He had made a long, hard race, had set the pace all the wayfrom the turn, and had used himself up in striving to beat the Wickasawswimmer, whom he had believed to be the only dangerous opponent. Andnow he had nothing in reserve. The nearer he fought to the finishline the weaker grew his strokes, and Tom, swimming like a piece ofmachinery, moving arms and legs slowly but powerfully, came abreast ofhim sixty feet from the line, and without raising his dripping headfrom the surface or altering his stroke a mite drew steadily away fromhim and won by ten or twelve feet in the creditable time of seventeenminutes and nineteen and two-fifths seconds. And Chicora laughed andcheered as Dan walked into the water up to his knees and, lifting Tombodily in his arms, brought him ashore in triumph.
Meanwhile Trescott had won the fifty-yard underwater race and Wickasawhad come in first at the same distance, swimming on the back. Chicoraagain triumphed in the canoe race for doubles when Carter and Dan drovethe former’s crimson craft across the finish fifty or sixty feet aheadof the opponents. And again, in the diving contest, Dan excelled.But after that the blue and gray was forced to take second and thirdplaces. Trescott won the relay race, the tilting and the fancyswimming contests. Wickasaw won the canoe race for singles and the tubrace. As only first places counted, the sports came to an end with thequestion of supremacy still in doubt, Chicora and Trescott each havingwon five events and Wickasaw four.
It was dusk by this time, and audience and competitors hurried awayfor supper, to reassemble at eight o’clock for the fireworks and boatparade. The latter, at least, was well worth seeing. There were overforty boats in line, the Chicora leading, and each was gay with Chineselanterns and colored fire. In and out across the lake they went,rounding the islands, skirting the shores, and tracing strange patternson the dark surface of the water. On the point sky-rockets and bombssizzed and boomed their way upward in trails of fire, and from theChicora and the Wickasaw Roman candles spilled their colored stars intothe lake.
In Joe Carter’s canoe he and Bob paddled along near the end of theparade, while Tom, attired in a hastily improvised costume of Turkeyred, impersonated a rather stout Devil and flourished a pitchfork,while at his feet red fire burned in a tin pl
ate and made his roundface almost as lurid as his costume. They had lots of fun out of it,but the crowning glory of their enjoyment came when they accidentallyran into a Wickasaw canoe and spilled two boys and a councilor intothe lake. They worked heroically at the task of rescue--when theirlaughter would allow them to--and none of the three unfortunate “Wicks”sustained further damage than a good wetting. After that the fun wastame until, shortly before ten, they reached their landing and the“Devil” slipped on the edge of the wharf and went down to his waist inwater and sputtered and stammered as no Devil ever has before or since.Joe said he was sure he heard the water sizzle when Tom struck it.
They took their lanterns up the hill with them, such as were stillburning, and hung them about the trees in the clearing so that theplace looked like a garden set for an outdoor party. Long after Nelsonwas in bed and he and Bob had ceased their whispering he could seethe mellow lights among the branches. Perhaps that is why, when hedid finally fall asleep, he dreamed that Dan was the proprietor of aChinese laundry next door to the post-office at Crescent and that he(Nelson) had lost his check for a pair of “sneakers” which he had leftthere to be waterproofed and could not get them back. To add to hisannoyance he was quite certain that the “sneakers” on the counter,in which Dan was growing Chinese lilies, were his. Unfortunately hecouldn’t prove it, and Dan refused to give them up, offering, however,to share the lilies with him. This offer Nelson indignantly refused,and Dan said:
“Wake up, you lazy dub! Second bugle’s blown!”
And Nelson, opening his eyes dazedly, found the sunlight streamingthrough the window and painting golden silhouettes on the gray blanket,while Dan, attired principally in a bath towel and having got rid ofhis queue, was impatiently tugging at his arm.
Followed a wild race down the hill, a scramble to the diving platform,and a long plunge into cool green depths. Three dives and it was timeto be out, for they had overslept. A brisk rubbing in the tent untilthe body glowed, a race up-hill that brought them panting and laughingto the dormitory, a hurried dressing and a brief toilet with brushesand comb, and--breakfast! Blueberries and cream, cereal, chops andpotatoes, hot muffins, and milk administered to hearty appetites. Andso began the last week of camp-life, a week that, like all that hadgone before, passed wonderfully quickly and brought the fellows withdisconcerting suddenness to Saturday afternoon and the final contestwith Wickasaw.
During that last week at Chicora Bob and Nelson and Dan and Tom stucktogether like brothers. The realization that in a few days’ time theymust part with small likelihood of getting together again before nextsummer, if then, made them anxious to see as much of each other aspossible in the time remaining. Two months is a long time in the lifeof a boy and in it he can make undying friendships. Whether such hadhappened in the present case remained to be seen, but certain it isthat the Four had grown extremely fond of each other. Tom was quiteforlorn over the parting.
“It’s all well enough for the rest of you,” he said. “You’re going hometogether, and Bob and Nel will have a dandy time at St. Louis. But I’vegot to go on this beastly trip all alone!”
“You’ll have a fine time, Tommy,” said Bob consolingly. “And thenyou’ll be going back to Hillton. And you’ll have Nel with you there. Ifany one has a kick seems to me it’s me. You three chaps will see eachother pretty frequently, but I’ll have to dig along all by my lonesome.”
“Don’t forget your promise to come down for the football game,” saidDan.
“I’ll come, but I sha’n’t know who to cheer for.”
“Hillton,” said Nelson and Tom in a breath.
“St. Eustace,” said Dan.
“I wish we didn’t all live so far away from each other,” said Tom.“You’re away up in Portland, Nel’s in Boston, Dan’s in New York, andI’m out in Chicago.”
“You ought to live in a decent part of the world,” answered Dan.
“Cut it out, you two,” said Bob. “Don’t get started on one of yourarguments about New York and Chicago. They’re beastly holes, both of’em. Come to Portland.”
This suggestion brought forth three howls of derision.
“Anyway,” said Dan, “I wish we might go to college together.”
“Why can’t we?” asked Nelson. “You fellows all come to Harvard!”
“I couldn’t,” Dan replied. “My dad went to Yale and he’d scalp me if Itold him I wanted to enter Harvard.”
“And I’m booked for Chicago,” said Tom mournfully.
“Poor chap,” said Dan commiseratingly. Whereupon Tom flared up.
“It’s a gu-gu-gu-good college, and you know it. Only I-I-I-I’d like tobe with you fu-fu-fu-fellows!”
“That’s easy,” said Bob. “You all come with me to Erskine.”
“It’s such a little place,” objected Dan.
“It’s got as much land as Yale, and more too, I guess.”
“I mean there are so few fellows there.”
“Well,” answered Bob thoughtfully, “maybe there aren’t very many peoplein heaven, but that’s no sign it isn’t a good place to go to!”
“Do you mean,” laughed Dan, “that Yale is--er--the other place?”
“Or Harvard?” asked Nelson in mock anger.
“Or Chicago?” added Tom.
“Well, now, as to Chicago, Tommy,” answered Bob, “you said yourself youwere going there, and you know what you were Saturday night!”
After the laughter had subsided they discussed the subject seriouslyand at length. In the end it was decided that if their parents wouldconsent Nelson, Dan, and Tom were to join Bob at Erskine College threeyears from the approaching month--examination boards permitting.Incidentally it may be announced that their parents did consent, thatexaminers did permit, and that their plans succeeded. But that is astory all to itself and has nothing to do with the present narrative.
Mr. Clinton had been called in to aid in the matter of the silverloving-cup for the Careys and had attended to the selection of it onone of his trips to Boston. On Friday it arrived. Lack of funds hadprohibited the purchase of anything very elaborate, but the gift wasquite worthy of acceptance. It was a plain cup, in shape like a Greekvase, seven inches high. The handles were of ebony, and there was alittle ebony stand for it to rest upon. The inscription had caused theFour not a little worry. As finally decided on it read:
TO MR. AND MRS. CHARLES A. CAREY A TOKEN OF ESTEEM AND GRATITUDE FROM THE FOUR AUGUST 18, 1904
ROBERT W. HETHINGTON NELSON E. TILFORD DANIEL H. F. SPEEDE THOMAS C. FERRIS
They were hugely pleased with it and kept it a whole day to admire andexhibit. Then it went off by express, and in due time there came areply which, as the Four had scattered, went from Chicago to Portland,to Boston, to New York, to Chicago, and from there came east again inTom’s trunk to Hillton.
But, lest you make the mistake of thinking that final week a period oflaziness, it should be said that the baseball diamond was worn almostbare of grass. Every morning and every afternoon the nine practisedin preparation for the Wickasaw game. As for eight of the nine, theydidn’t feel that life would be ruined even if Wickasaw did beat them.But Bob was of another sort; he had set his heart on winning and wouldgo home feeling that the summer had ended in disgrace if Wickasaw againtriumphed; and so the others caught some of the infection from him andlabored zealously in the hottest kind of a sun morning and afternoonuntil Friday. On Friday there was only a half hour’s easy work, forBob had his ideas on the subject of training. That night, about thecamp-fire, the prospect was talked over and it was generally agreedthat if Wells, who was again to pitch, didn’t go up in the air Chicorawas pretty certain of victory. That, as events turned out, was a big“if.”
Four in Camp: A Story of Summer Adventures in the New Hampshire Woods Page 23