For the Honor of Randall: A Story of College Athletics

by Lester Chadwick

  CHAPTER XXIX

  AN ALARM IN THE NIGHT

  "What are you doing, Sid?"

  "Writing a letter."

  "Of course. I can see that without glasses. But who to, if it's not apersonal question?" persisted Tom tantalizingly, as he stretched out onthe old couch, and watched his chum busy with pen and ink. Phil andFrank were making more or less successful pretenses at study.

  "Well--er--it _is_ sort of personal," replied Sid, and Tom noticed thatthe writer got red back of the ears. That is always regarded as a suresign.

  "My! You've got it bad," persisted Tom.

  "Got what bad--what do you mean?"

  "As if you didn't know! You saw her Sunday, and here it is onlyWednesday, and you're writing. I say, that's against the union rules youknow; how about it fellows?"

  "That's right," agreed Frank.

  "And the punishment is that you'll have to read the letter to us," wenton Tom. "Failing to do that we will read it for ourselves."

  He arose suddenly, and made as if to look over Sid's shoulder.

  "No, you don't!" cried the writer, dodging away from the table. "You letme alone, and I'll let you alone."

  "By Jove! He's writing verse!" cried Tom. "Well, if that isn't thelimit, fellows! Say, he has got 'em bad!"

  "Oh, you make me tired!" snapped Sid, as he stuffed the paper, overwhich he had been laboring, into his pocket. "Can't a fellow write aletter? I'm going down in the reading room."

  And before they could stop him he had slipped out.

  "Sid certainly is going some," remarked Phil. "The germ is working.Well, I'm going to turn in. I'm dead tired and I expect I'll sleep likea top."

  "Dutch wanted us to come to his room to-night," remarked Frank. "He'sgot some feed."

  "Not for me," spoke Tom. "I'm not going to risk anything that Dutch willset up, when the games are so near. He'd feed us on Welsh rabbit andcocoanut macaroons if he had his way. Not that he wouldn't eat 'emhimself, but they don't go with training diet."

  "Well, I'm out of it, so I'll take a chance," remarked Frank.

  "Don't take Sid," Tom called after the big Californian. "He's ontraining diet, too. Dutch has the digestion of an ostrich, and it won'thurt him."

  "All right," Frank retorted, and then Tom, together with Phil, preparedto turn in.

  Tom was thinking of many things. Of his father's troubles, of thepossible outcome of the contests, and of his own chances. For the firsttime since he had begun to train extra hard, because of the necessity oftaking Shambler's place, Tom felt a little less "up to the mark" thanusual. He was more tired than he had been in several weeks, and hisstomach did not feel just right.

  "I mustn't overtrain," he thought. "I can't afford to go stale."

  He did not know what time it was when he awoke, but it must have beenquite late, for Sid and Frank had been in some time. The unpleasantfeeling in Tom's stomach had increased, and he did not know whether itwas hunger or indigestion.

  "Guess I worked a little bit too hard to-day," he reflected. "I'll beall right in the morning."

  But he could not get to sleep again. He tossed restlessly on his pillow,first trying one side of the bed, and then the other.

  "Hang it all, what's the matter with me?" he asked himself. "Guess I'llget up and take a drink of water."

  He moved quietly, so as not to disturb any of his chums, but Sid, whowas a light sleeper, heard him.

  "Who's that? What's the matter?" demanded Tom's team-mate.

  "Oh, I just woke up--can't seem to get to sleep again. I don't feel verygood," answered Tom.

  "Take some of that medicine the girls sent," advised Sid. "It's aharmless enough tonic, and it may do you good--send you to sleep. Youdon't want to get knocked out of your rest."

  "Guess I will," agreed Tom. There was light enough coming in through thetransom over the door to the hall, to enable him to see the bottle ofmedicine on the shelf. He drew the cork, poured out a dose and swallowedit with a little water. The taste was not very pleasant, but he did notmind that.

  "Count sheep jumping over a stone fence, and you'll drop off in notime," advised Sid, as Tom went back to bed. Sid was soon slumberingagain.

  But, somehow or other, neither the counting of sheep nor any of theother time-honored methods of wooing Morpheus availed Tom. Hisrestlessness increased, and he was aware of a growing distress in hisstomach.

  Suddenly a sharp pain wrenched him, and, in spite of himself, he criedout.

  "What's the matter?" asked Phil.

  "I--I don't know," faltered Tom. "I'm sick, I guess. Oh, say, this isfierce!" he cried, as another spasm racked him.

  Phil was out of bed at once, and switched on the light. One look at Tomwas enough for him.

  "Boy, you're sick!" he declared. "I'm going to call the doctor. You needlooking after!"

  "Oh, I guess I'll be all right in a little while. I took some of thatnew medicine, and----"

  Another spasm of pain prevented Tom from continuing, and hastened Phil'sdecision. He slipped on some garments, awakened Sid and Frank, and wassoon communicating with Proctor Zane, who at once summoned Dr. Marshall,the physician connected with Randall.

  The medical man came in at once, stopping only to slip on a bathrobe.

  "What have you been eating--or taking?" he demanded of Tom, as he feltof the youth's pulse, and examined him.

  "Nothing but some of that Smith, Brown & Robinson's Tonic," groaned Tom,motioning toward the medicine bottle. Sid quickly explained about it,handing the phial to the physician. The latter smelled of the mixture,tasted it gingerly and then exclaimed:

  "No wonder you're sick, if you took that stuff!"

  "Why, I've often taken it," asserted Sid. "It did me good."

  "Not 'doped' as this is," declared Dr. Marshall. "I know thispreparation. It is very good, but this has been tampered with. There'senough 'dope' in there to make a score of you boys sick. Throw the stuffaway, or, no, hold on, let me have it. I'll look into this. There's beenunderhand work somewhere. You say some girl friends sent it to you?"

  "We thought so," spoke Sid, "but if it's been meddled with, of course,they didn't. I begin to suspect something now."

  "Well, talk about it later," advised the doctor crisply. "I've got asick lad to look after now. Some of you get me a lot of hot water. I'vegot to use a stomach pump," and he mixed Tom some medicine, while Sidhurried to rouse the housekeeper.