For the Honor of Randall: A Story of College Athletics

by Lester Chadwick

  Produced by Donald Cummings and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  FORWARD HE HURLED HIMSELF, STRAIGHT THROUGH THE AIR.]

  FOR THE HONOR OF RANDALL

  A Story of College Athletics

  BY LESTER CHADWICK

  AUTHOR OF "THE RIVAL PITCHERS," "A QUARTER-BACK'S PLUCK," "BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS," ETC.

  ILLUSTRATED

  NEW YORK CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY

  =BOOKS BY LESTER CHADWICK=

  =THE COLLEGE SPORTS SERIES= 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.

  THE RIVAL PITCHERS A Story of College Baseball

  A QUARTER-BACK'S PLUCK A Story of College Football

  BATTING TO WIN A Story of College Baseball

  THE WINNING TOUCHDOWN A Story of College Football

  FOR THE HONOR OF RANDALL A Story of College Athletics

  =THE BASEBALL JOE SERIES= 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.

  BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS Or The Rivals of Riverside

  BASEBALL JOE ON THE SCHOOL NINE Or Pitching for the Blue Banner

  (Other volumes in preparation)

  _Cupples & Leon Co., Publishers, New York_

  Copyright, 1912, by CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY

  FOR THE HONOR OF RANDALL

  Printed in U. S. A.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER PAGE I A PERILOUS RIDE 1 II BAD NEWS FROM HOME 15 III WHEN SPRING COMES 27 IV THE NEW FELLOW 34 V IN "PITCHFORK'S" PLACE 42 VI THE NEW LEAGUE 51 VII THROUGH THE ICE 66 VIII TOM KEEPS SILENT 76 IX IN THE ICE BOAT 84 X A MISSING PICTURE 94 XI THE WAY OF A MAID 102 XII IN BITTER SPIRITS 112 XIII TOM SEES SOMETHING 118 XIV SHAMBLER'S VISITOR 128 XV TOM IS SUSPICIOUS 135 XVI FRANK'S SURPRISE 144 XVII THE AUCTION 153 XVIII TOM'S TEMPTATION 160 XIX THE TRY-OUTS 168 XX "WE NEED EVERY POINT" 176 XXI ON THE RIVER 183 XXII CURIOSITY 192 XXIII THE BIG HURDLE RACE 202 XXIV THE ACCUSATION 213 XXV A DISPUTED POINT 221 XXVI FRANK WITHDRAWS 229 XXVII "WHAT'S TO BE DONE?" 236 XXVIII A BOTTLE OF MEDICINE 245 XXIX AN ALARM IN THE NIGHT 255 XXX JUST A CHANCE 261 XXXI AT THE GAMES 272 XXXII AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR 280 XXXIII TOM'S RUN 289 XXXIV SID'S GREAT JUMP 300 XXXV RANDALL'S HONOR CLEARED 306

  FOR THE HONOR OF RANDALL

  CHAPTER I

  A PERILOUS RIDE

  "What a glorious night!"

  Tom Parsons, standing at the window of the study which he shared withhis chums, looked across the campus of Randall College.

  "It's just perfect," he went on.

  There was no answer from the three lads who, in various attitudes, tooktheir ease, making more or less of pretenses at studying.

  "The moon," Tom went on, "the moon is full----"

  "So are you--of words," blurted out Sid Henderson, as he leafed histrigonometry.

  "It's one of the finest nights----"

  "Since nights were invented," broke in Phil Clinton, with a yawn. "Dryup, Tom, and let us bone, will you?"

  Unmoved by the scorn of his chums, the tall lad at the casement, gazingout on the scene, which, to do him justice, had wonderfully moved him,continued to stand there. Then, in a quiet voice, as though unconsciousof the presence of the others, he spoke:

  "The moon o'er yonder hilltop rises, a silver disk, like unto a warrior'sshield, whereon he, from raging battle coming, is either carried upon it,or bears it proudly as----"

  "Oh for cats' sake!" fairly yelled Frank Simpson, the Big Californian,as he had been dubbed. He shied his book full at Tom Parsons, catchinghim in the back, and bringing to a close the blank verse our hero wasspouting, with a grunt that greatly marred it.

  "Say, you fellows can't appreciate anything decent!" shot back the lad atthe window. "If I try to raise you above the level of the kindergartenclass you are in deep water. I suppose I should have said: 'Oh see themoon. Does the moon see me? The moon sees me. What a pretty moon!' Bah!You make me tired. Here we have the most glorious night of the winter,with a full moon, snow on the ground to make it as light as day, a calm,perfect night----"

  "Oh perfect night!" mocked Sid.

  "Vandal!" hissed Tom.

  "Go on! Hear Hear! Bravo!" cried Phil. "Let the noble Senator proceed!"

  "Oh, for the love of mustard!" broke in the big lad who had tossed hisbook at Tom. "There's no use trying to do any work with this mob. I'mgoing over to see Dutch Housenlager. He won't spout blank verse when Iwant to bone, and that's some comfort."

  "No, but he'll want to get you into some horse-play, like tying knots inProc. Zane's socks, or running the flag up at half mast on the chapel,"declared Tom. "You had much better stay here, Frank. I've got somethingto propose."

  "There! I knew it!" cried Phil. "There's a girl in it somewhere, or Tomwould never be so poetical. Who is she, Tom? and when are you going topropose?"

  "Oh, you fellows are worse than the measles," groaned the lad who hadbeen looking at the moonlight. "I'm done with you. I leave you to yourfate."

  With a grunt of annoyance Tom turned away from the window, kicked underthe sofa the book which Frank had thrown at him, and reached for his capand coat.

  "Where you going?" asked Phil quickly, as he turned over in the deeparmchair, causing the ancient piece of furniture to emit many a groan,and send out a choking cloud of dust. "Whither away, fair sir?"

  "Anywhere, to get away from you fellows," grunted the displeased one.

  "No, but seriously, where are you going?" asked Frank. "Now that you'vebroken the ice, I don't mind admitting that I don't care such an awfullot for boning."

  Tom paused in the doorway, one arm in and the other out of his coat.

  "I'm going out," he answered. "It's too nice to stay in. The coastingmust be great on Ridge Hill, and with this moon--say it's a shame tostay in! That's what I've been trying to ding into you fellows, only youwouldn't listen. Why, half of Randall must be out there to-night."

  "What about Proc. Zane?" asked Sid, referring to the proctor, who keptwatch and ward over the college.

  "Nothing doing," answered Tom. "A lot of the fellows went to Moses afterthe last lecture and got permission to take their bobs over on the hill.There were so many that the good old doctor said he'd raise the rulesfor to-night, because it was likely to be such a fine one. So there's nodanger of being up on the carpet, if we get in at any decent hour."

  "Why didn't you say so at first?" demanded Sid. "Of course we'll go. Whydidn't you mention it instead----"

  "I thought you had some poetry in you," responded Tom. "I tried to makeyou appreciate the beauty of the night rather than appeal to the sordidside of your natures, and----"

  "Cut it out!" begged Phil, with a laugh. "If there's any coasting, and Iguess there is, we'll be in it. Come on, fellows, and we'll see how ourbob does on the hill."

  With laughter and gay talk, now that they had made up their minds toadopt Tom's suggestion, and go coasting, the four chums, than whom therewas no more devoted quartette in Randall, passed out into the corridor.As they descended the stairs they heard a subdued hum that told of otherstudents bent on the same errand, and, when they had a glimpse of thesnow-covered campus, they beheld many dark figures hu
rrying along,dragging single sleds or big bobs after them.

  "Say, I hope no one pinches ours!" cried Tom, and at the thought hehastened his pace toward an out-building of the gymnasium, where thestudents kept their bicycles in Summer, and their bobs in Winter.

  It was now Winter at Randall, a glorious Winter, following a gloriousfootball season. For several years it had been the custom for thestudents to indulge in coasting on a big hill about a mile away from thecollege. Some of the lads clubbed together and had built fine, big bobs,with foot rests, carpet on the top, with immense gongs to sound warning,and with steering wheels that equalled those of autos, while some haddrag brakes, to use in case of emergency.

  The bob owned jointly by Tom Parsons, Sid Henderson, Phil Clinton andFrank Simpson, was one of the best in Randall. It was fifteen feet long,and could carry quite a party. It needed no small skill and strength tosteer it, too, when fully loaded.

  Our friends, getting out their sled, soon found themselves in the midstof a throng of fellow students, all hurrying toward the hill. The fourchums had hold of the rope to haul the big bob.

  "There are the Jersey twins," remarked Sid, as Jerry and Joe Jacksonhurried on, dragging a small bob.

  "And here comes Dutch," added Phil. "He can ride with us, I guess."

  "Sure," assented Tom. "I say, Dutch!" he called. "Got a sled?"

  "No. Why should I when there are already plenty?" "Dutch," or otherwiseBilly Housenlager, demanded.

  "That's right," spoke Frank. "Come on, give us a hand, and we'll giveyou a ride."

  "I am too tired," was the answer, "but I will let you have the honor ofpulling me," and, with a sigh of contentment Dutch threw himself down onthe big bob.

  "Here! Get off, you horse!" cried Sid.

  A loud snore was the answer. Sid started back to roll the lazy studentoff, but Tom, with a wink, indicated a better way of disposing of him.At a signal the four students broke into a run.

  "Ah, this beats an auto," murmured Billy.

  Suddenly the four swerved sharply, and the bob turned over, spillingDutch off, into a snow bank.

  "Ten thousand double-dyed maledictions upon you!" he spluttered, as heblew the snow out of his mouth. "Just for that I'll not ride with you.Hold on, Jerry--Joe," he called to the Jersey twins, "wait for papa!"

  There was a laugh at Dutch and his predicament, and then the crowd ofstudents hurried on, our heroes among them. In a little while they couldhear distant shouts, and the clanging of bells.

  "Some crowd on the hill," observed Tom. "I told you there'd be sport."

  "Right you are, my hearty," agreed Phil. "Whew! I should say there was amob!" for by this time they had come out on top of the long slope thatled down the country road, forming the coasting place, known as RidgeHill.

  While most of the crowd consisted of students from Randall College,there were not a few lads and girls from the neighboring town ofHaddonfield, and the shrill voices of the lassies and the hoarser shoutsof the boys, mingled musically that moonlit night. The clang of bellson the bobs was constant.

  "Come on now, get ready!" called Tom. "Let's take a crowd down."

  "Who's going to steer?" asked Phil.

  "Let Frank," advised Sid. "He's got the most muscle, and he needsexercise."

  "I like your nerve," retorted the Big Californian. But he took his placeat the steering wheel, while Tom got on the rear to work the brake, andSid acted as bell-ringer.

  "Get aboard!" invited Tom, and several of his friends among the studentspiled on.

  "May we have a ride?" asked three pretty girls from the town. None ofour friends knew them, but it was a common custom to give all a ride forwhom there was room, introductions being dispensed with.

  "Pile on!" invited Tom.

  "I want the one with the red scarf!" sang out Frank, and this girl, witha laugh that showed her even white teeth, took her place behind thesteersman. Her companions joined her, with happy laughs. The bob wasalmost full.

  "Room for any more?" asked a voice, and Tom looked up to see a young manand lady looking at him.

  "Oh, hello, Mr. Beach!" he exclaimed, as he recognized a friend of hiswho lived in town. "Of course there is. Get on Mrs. Beach, and we'llgive you a fine ride!" The young married couple had often entertainedour four friends at their home, and, as Mr. and Mrs. Beach were fond offun, they had come out to enjoy the coasting.

  "All right!" cried Sid, clanging the bell.

  "Push us off; will you?" Tom requested of a merry coaster, and the ladwith some others obligingly shoved the bob to the edge of the hill. Thenthey were off, going down like the wind, while the runners scraped thefrozen snow sending it aloft in a shower of crystals that the moonturned into silver.

  "Oh, this is glorious!" cried the girl back of Frank. "Say, did you evertry to go through the hollow, and up the other hill?"

  "No, and I'm not going to," replied Frank, turning his head toward herfor an instant, and then getting his eyes on the road again, for therewere many sleds and bobs, and it needed all his skill to wind in and outamong them.

  "Why not?" persisted the girl, with a laugh.

  "Too dangerous, with a big sled. We never could make the curve at thisspeed."

  "Some of the town boys do it," she went on.

  "Not with a bob like this. Look out there!" Frank yelled as he narrowlymissed running into a solitary coaster.

  The path to which the girl referred was a sort of lane, running off themain hill road, dipping down, and then suddenly shooting up again,crossing over a slight rise, and finally going down to a small pond. Itwas a semi-public road, but seldom used. To attempt to negotiate it witha swift bob was perilous, for the least mistake in steering, or a slightaccident would send the sled off to one side or the other of the smallhill, making an upset almost certain, and, likely broken bones, ifnothing worse.

  "There goes one boy, now," went on the girl back of Frank, as a coastershot into the hollow.

  "Yes, but he only has a small sled. I'll not try it. If you girls wantto----"

  "Oh, no indeed!" she hastened to assure him. "This is too much fun. It'sgood of you to ask us."

  The coast soon came to an end, and then came the hard work of draggingthe sled up the hill again.

  "I wish they had double acting hills," remarked Tom as he pulled on therope. "Slide down 'em one way, and, when you get to the bottom they'dtip up, and you could slide back--sort of perpetual motion."

  "You don't want much," commented Sid with a laugh.

  As the boys reached the top of the slope there dashed up a sled filledwith young people, drawn by two prancing horses. And fastened to therear of the sled, was a large bob.

  "Now for some fun!" cried a girl's voice.

  "Did you hear that?" asked Tom, of Phil. "It sounded like your sisterRuth."

  "It is Ruth!" cried Phil, as he caught sight of the girl who had calledout. "It's a crowd from Fairview," he added, naming a co-educationalinstitution not far from Randall, at which college Ruth Clinton attended."Hi, Ruth!" called her brother, "how are you?"

  "Oh, Phil," she answered. "So glad to see you! Are the other inseparablesthere?"

  "All of us!" cried Tom, as he glimpsed Madge Tyler. "Come have a ride onour bob."

  "Next time," answered Mabel Harrison with a laugh. "We have a priorinvitation now."

  "Who are with you?" asked Phil of his sister as he reached her side."Whose bob is that?" and he pointed to the one back of the sled.

  "Hal Burton's. He's a new student, rather rich, and sporty I guess. Hemade up this little party. Oh, it's all right," she hastened to add,as she saw her brother look at her curiously. "We have permission, achaperone and all the fixings. Trust the ogress, Miss Philock, for that.Isn't it a glorious night?"

  "Fine," agreed Phil. "But who is this Burton chap?"

  "Come on, and I'll introduce you," and Ruth presented her brother. Amongthe other girls was a Miss Helen Newton, whom Tom and his chums had notbefore met. She was also made acquainted with the inseparables. />
  "And so you won't ride with us?" asked Tom, looking rather regretfullyat Miss Tyler.

  "Not this time, old man," broke in Burton, with a familiar air that Tomdid not like. "I'm going to pilot 'em."

  "Do you know the hill?" asked Phil quietly. Somehow he did not like thisnew student, with his calm air of assurance, and he did not like Ruth toride with him.

  "Oh, I've coasted bigger hills than this," declared the owner of the bigbob. "This isn't anything, even if it is a new one. Get on girls andfellows!" he cried. "We'll beat everything on the hill."

  "Insolent puppy!" murmured Tom, as he helped swing their own bob aroundfor another coast.

  The sled owned by Burton was a fine one, and larger even than that ofour friends. There were back-rests for each coaster, and a gong as bigas a dinner plate.

  "See you later, Phil," called Ruth, as she and her girl friends,together with a throng of others, got aboard.

  The big bob was pushed off, Tom and his chums watching with criticaleyes. Burton seemed to know his business.

  "Well, we might as well go down," remarked Frank, as he took his place.There was a moment's wait, while their bob filled, the same three prettygirls taking their places. Then they were off, Sid ringing the bellvigorously.

  Hardly had they started, however, almost in the wake of Burton's sled,than Frank gave a cry of alarm.

  "What is it?" shouted Tom, getting ready to jam on the brake. "Steeringwheel busted?"

  "No, but look!" cried Frank. "That chump Burton is headed right for thehollow cut-off! He'll never make it at that speed, and there'll be aspill!"

  For a moment there was a silence, broken only by the scraping of therunners on the hard snow. Then Frank yelled:

  "Keep to the right! Keep to the right, Burton! You can't make thatturn!"

  But Burton either did not hear or did not heed. Straight for theperilous cut-off he steered, and then, as the girls saw their danger,they cried shrilly. But it was too late to turn aside now, and Tom andhis chums, coming on like the wind behind the new bob, wondered whatwould happen, and if there was any way of preventing the accident thatseemed almost sure to take place.