A Quarter-Back's Pluck: A Story of College Football
CHAPTER XXXV
VICTORY--CONCLUSION
There was despondency in the quarters of the Randall players, where they gathered between the halves. Gloom sat upon the brow of every one, and the cheery words of the coach could not seem to dispel it.
"There's only one touch-down against you," he said. "You always play better uphill than down. Go at 'em now, and tear them apart! They play a fierce game, but you can play a fiercer! Are any of you hurt? How about you, Looper?"
"Oh, I'm all right now. It was only my wind. I've got it back. They won't get through me again," declared the Snail.
"I hope not. You're too fat; that's what's the trouble. How are you holding out, Clinton?" and the coach turned anxiously to the quarter-back. Phil was pacing up and down the dressing-room. There was a strained look on his face, and his hand was inside his blouse, where his fingers touched a crumpled paper. He did not seem to have heard Mr. Lighton's question. The coach repeated it.
"Me? Why, I--I guess I can last the game out," said Phil slowly.
"Last the game out? Why, are you hurt?" The coach was a bit disturbed.
"No. Of course not. It was just my way of speaking. It's all right--it's all right," and Phil resumed his pacing of the narrow quarters.
"Guess he feels that we're going to lose," whispered Dutch Housenlager to Tom. But Tom shook his head. There was something else the matter with Phil, and he wondered what it was.
"Do you think they're on to our signals?" asked Holly Cross.
"No," said Phil shortly. "There's no need to change them. I'll use the same ones."
"Time's almost up," remarked the coach, looking at his watch for about the fifth time within two minutes.
To the lads it seemed as if they had not had more than a minute's respite, but they were ready for the fray again, and there was an eagerness in the manner in which they leaped out on the gridiron which betokened that snappy playing would follow.
Nor was it long in coming. When Boxer Hall kicked off, amid the chorus of a spirited song, Kindlings caught the ball, and came back with it on such a rush, and so well protected by his teammates, that he got past the center of the field before he was downed. Then at the line went the Randall lads. Smashing through it, there was no stopping them. Right up the field they came, surprising even their own coach by their steady advance. Phil was handling the players with a skill he had never shown before. Play after play he called for, and the lads responded with vim. Even a risky on-side kick was tried and was successful. Then a forward pass netted fifteen yards, and with joy in their hearts the Randall lads saw themselves approaching their opponent's goal-line.
"Now, boys, play like Trojans!" cried Phil heartily, this being the signal for four sequence plays. They were ripped off one after the other, so quickly that, as Holly Cross said, "it made the hair of the Boxers stand up." For, almost before the visitors were aware of it, though they tried their best to stem the human tide, the ball was only a few feet from the line.
"Touch-down! Touch-down! Touch-down!" implored the cheering throng.
"Touch-down it shall be!" whispered Phil fiercely, and he snapped the ball to Holly Cross, who went through like a battering ram. There was a mass of players on top of him, the ball and the line. Not until they got up could it be seen if the pigskin was over. The referee rushed in. Slowly the players disentangled. The ball was over the line!
"Touch-down!" fairly screamed Tom Parsons. "Touch-down!"
His cry was echoed from the Randall grandstands, and Dutch Housenlager began a dance around the team, carrying Holly Cross, Grasshopper and the Jersey twins with him.
"Kick the goal, and we'll be one point ahead of them!" cried Bricktop Molloy to Holly. "Put all the power ye have to spare into your toe, me lad, and boost the ball over."
"I'll try," promised the captain, but the wind had increased, and the pigskin struck the bar and bounded back. But the score was tied, and Randall felt that she was coming into her own.
"Fast and snappy play, now!" called Phil Clinton, and once more he passed his hand over his head. There was an air of desperation about him, and Tom noticed it.
"Maybe he's feeling sick," he thought, and he hurried over to his chum and asked him.
"I don't feel just right," answered Phil. "But I'm not sick. I'm all right. Don't say anything. We're going to win. We're going to win!" he repeated fiercely. "I'm going to run the team to another touch-down. After that--after that," he faltered--"well, it doesn't matter, after that."
The ball was kicked off. An exchange of punts followed the scrimmage, and Boxer Hall got the ball. Her players began some good work, but Randall was ready for it. Several of the best men were tackled so hard, though not unfairly, that time had to be taken out for them to recover. Then Pinstock had to retire because of a twisted ankle, but, to offset this, Jerry Jackson was knocked out and Everet took his place.
For a few minutes it seemed as if Boxer Hall was going up the field for another touch-down, but Randall braced in time. Then a sudden change appeared to come over Phil. He had been playing for all he was worth, but now he seemed a perfect whirlwind as he called snappily to his men to take the ball through. And they did it. Through holes torn first on one side between tackle and guard, or guard and center, and then on the other wing, Everet, Holly Cross or Kindlings butted their way. Phil varied this with some end runs and then called for his favorite play, the fake right-half back and tackle shift, when Kerr took the ball on the fly and went through the opposite side of his opponents' line with it. The play netted fifteen yards, and placed the ball on Boxer Hall's twenty-yard line.
The time was fast drawing to a close. Could Boxer hold the line sufficiently to prevent Randall from scoring again, making the game a tie? Or could Randall break through? Those were the questions every one was asking.
"Now, fellows, for the 'Conquer or Die' song," called Bean Perkins, and during a silence that followed a brief consultation between Phil and Holly Cross there welled out over the gridiron the inspiring strains of "_Aut Vincere Aut Mori_!"
"Signal!" cried Phil, and he gave one for a forward pass. He got the ball off in good shape, but Nottingham, the burly guard of Boxer Hall, broke through, and jumped right at the quarter-back, hoping to break up the play. Phil went down under him, and when Kindlings had been stopped, after a few yards' advance, the quarter-back did not get up.
"Phil's hurt!" cried Tom, and his heart reproached him for keeping quiet about the warning. "That was done on purpose!"
There was a rush to where Phil lay. Nottingham was bending over him.
"By Jove, old man!" he exclaimed contritely. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Hope I didn't tackle you too hard."
He began rubbing Phil's hands. Holly Cross passed his fingers over the quarter-back's head.
"He got a nasty bump!" he exclaimed. "Bring some water."
The cold fluid revived the injured lad. He struggled to get up.
"Lie still!" insisted the captain.
"I'm--I'm all right," replied Phil, though faintly. "My head hit a stone, I guess. Give me a little water, and I'll go on with the game!"
"He's got pluck!" exclaimed Nottingham admiringly, but neither he nor any of the others knew the full extent of the quarter-back's pluck. "I'm awfully sorry, old man," went on Nottingham, who was one of the best fellows in the world. "I didn't mean to come at you so hard."
"That's all right," spoke Phil gently, and he tried to smile. "We're going to beat you for that."
He got to his feet inside the required two minutes.
"Signal!" he cried, but there was lacking in his tones some of his old-time vigor. He called for a play between guard and tackle. Right at Nottingham the play was directed, and Dutch Housenlager was to make it--big Dutch, who seemed to be all bone, muscle and sinew. A gleam was in Phil's eyes as he gave the last letter of the signal.
There were but four yards to go to make a touch-down. Could Randall do it? "They must do it! They would do it!" Phil was deciding for the whole team. He felt that they must make that distance, if he had to carry the entire eleven on his shoulders. Snail Looper was about to snap the ball back. Boxer Hall was bracing as she had never braced before. It was now or never. If Randall got a second touch-down it would mean practically that she would win the game and the championship.
Back came the ball. Phil passed it to Dutch, and up against the solid wall of flesh went the big right-tackle. You could almost hear the impact over in the grandstand. Behind him were his mates. In front of him, pulling and hauling on him, were more of them. On either side were the Boxer Hall players, who had been torn from their places to make a hole. From either side they came leaping in to stop the gap--to stop the advance of the man with the ball. On and on struggled Dutch. He felt that he was not himself--that he was but a small part of that seething, struggling mass--an atom in a crushing, grinding, whirling, heaving, boiling caldron of human beings. Breaths were coming short and quick, eyes were flashing. It was push and shove, haul, slip, stumble. Player was piled on player. Tom Parsons and the other ends were on the outside. Holly Cross was pushing and shoving, glad if he felt the mass in front of him give but the fraction of an inch.
Then, from somewhere beneath that mass of humanity, came the voice of Dutch Housenlager.
"Down!" he called faintly.
The heaving human hill slowly settled down, as when the fire is withdrawn from under a boiling kettle.
The whistle blew. Slowly the mass was disintegrated. Sore, bruised, scratched; bleeding some of them, lame most of them, desperately anxious all of them, the players fell apart. Dutch was lying on his face, his big back arched. The ball was not to be seen. Had there been a fumble? The goal line passed beneath the stomach of the big tackle. Slowly he arose, and then such a shout as rent the air.
For the ball was under him! It was over the line! He had made the touch-down!
Oh, how the stands vibrated with the yells, the cheers, the songs, the delirious leaping up and down, the stamping of feet and the clapping of hands! How the Fairview girls shrilly screamed their college cry! How it was caught up, swallowed and silenced by the booming cheers from the Randall cohorts!
For Randall had won. Even if she could not kick the goal, she had won, as there remained but one minute more of play. But the goal was kicked. Holly Cross saw to that, and then, with a final, useless kick-off, and after the final whistle had blown, the Randall players gathered together, their arms about each other, and cheered heartily and mightily for the victory.
Dutch was hoisted to the shoulders of his mates protestingly, and carried about. The Boxer Hall eleven was cheered, and they gave back a perfunctory, complimentary yell for their opponents. They had been beaten where they hoped to win. Beaten twice in the season by their former victims. It was humiliating.
"Here!" cried Holly Cross. "Up with Phil Clinton. He piloted the team to victory!"
"That's right!" shouted Bricktop. "Up with him!"
But Phil was running toward the grandstand at top speed; toward the A section where, he had told Tom, Madge and Ruth sat.
"He's hurrying to receive the congratulations of Madge," thought Tom bitterly.
Holly Cross took after the fleeing quarter-back.
"Come here!" he cried.
"Can't," answered Phil desperately, and the captain saw that his face was drawn and strained.
"Why not?" demanded Holly.
"Because--read that!" and Phil held out a crumpled telegram. Slowly Holly deciphered it:
"Come at once. Your mother is dying."
It was signed with Phil's father's name.
"When did you get this?" asked the captain slowly, while the other players gathered about.
"It came just--just before the game," answered Phil. "I must go--and get my sister. We must start for Florida--at once."
"Just before the game?" said Holly in a low voice. "Just before the game? And you played, knowing that--that your mother was--was----"
Holly faltered. There was a huskiness in his voice.
"I played the game," said Phil simply. "I--I didn't want to tell you fellows, for fear you'd put a substitute in. But I'm going, now," and he turned toward the grandstand.
"Talk about pluck!" exclaimed Holly Cross. "If that isn't the best exhibition of it, I never want to hear of any."
"Pluck!" murmured Bricktop Molloy. "He's pluck personified. Poor Phil!" and the big left-guard turned aside. Slowly Phil's mates watched him making his way to where his sister sat. The gridiron was swarming with spectators now. Bean Perkins came running over.
"We'll have a great celebration to-night!" he cried to the players and the substitutes.
"No!" said Holly Cross simply.
"Why not?"
"Because Phil's mother is dying. He's got to go to her."
Up the grandstand leaped Phil. Tom had hurried after him, ready to do what he could to aid his chum to get a train. Phil saw Ruth and Madge together. At the sight of her brother Ruth cried:
"Oh, Phil, wasn't it glorious? I'm so glad you won! Why--wh--what's the matter?" she gasped at the sight of his pale face.
"Mother!" he exclaimed huskily. "Didn't--haven't you a telegram?"
"Yes. Did you get one, too?" and she fumbled in her muff. "Oh, Phil, I'm so happy! She's all better! The operation was a success, and she's going to get well! I got mine just before the game, and I supposed you did, too. I was waiting for you to come to me, but I guess you didn't have a chance. Oh, I'm so glad!" and she threw her arms around her brother's neck.
"Going to get well? Operation a success? Why, I--I didn't get a telegram like that!" exclaimed Phil in bewilderment.
"There's mine," said Ruth, producing it. "I left word to forward any that might come to Fairview to me here. I gave the number of my seat here to the Fairview operator, and I got the message just before play began. But didn't you get yours?"
Before Phil could answer a diminutive messenger boy pushed his way through the crowd.
"Is dis Phil Clinton?" he asked boldly.
"That's me," replied Phil quickly, but he hardly knew what he said.
"Den here's a message fer youse. I tried t' git it t' youse before de game, but de cop wouldn't let me in on de grass. So I stayed and seen de scrap. Hully chee! But it was a peach! I'm glad youse fellers won. Sign dere!" and the lad held out his book with the message in.
As in a dream Phil signed, and then tore open the envelope. The message was a duplicate of the one his sister had.
"Any answer?" asked the lad, as he gazed in admiration at Phil, and Tom, who stood close beside him. "Hully chee! But youse is husky brutes," spoke the modern Mercury, but it was only his way of properly admiring the football heroes.
"Yes, there's an answer," said Phil, and he scribbled on a piece of paper a bystander thrust into his hand this telegram:
"Dear Dad: Best news I ever got! We won the game!"
And he signed it with the names of his sister and himself.
"May I add my good wishes, not only on the recovery of your mother, but on the way you played the game?" asked Madge, blushing, and holding out her hand to Phil. He clasped her fingers in his.
"Same here!" cried Tom, as he caught a roguish glance from the eyes of Ruth. "Oh, but I'm glad for your sake, old man!" and he gave Phil such a clap on the back as to make the teeth of the quarter-back clatter. "I'm so glad!"
"I know you are," said Phil simply, and as he shook hands with his chum he knew, somehow, that the little cloud that had come between them had passed away.
"Tra, la, la! Merrily do we sing and dance!" cried Tom in the exuberance of his feelings. "Come down on the field, Phil, Madge, Ruth, and we'll play 'Ring Around the Rosy'!"
Laughingly they descended with him, and added to the merriment of the throng by gaily circling about in it.
But, with all his joy, Phil was puzzled. Where had the first telegram come from? Had it been a mistake? Had the operator blundered? He said nothing to his sister about the message received just before the game.
The good news quickly spread among the Randall players, and they soon arranged for a celebration. A big fire was kindled, on it were thrown their football suits, for the season was over, and then the champion eleven broke training. A dinner was served that night in the gymnasium, and many girls from Fairview, including Ruth and Madge, attended.
"But I can't understand where this message came from," Phil was saying to Tom and Sid a few hours later in their room. "Jove, but it almost knocked me out when I got it! But I knew I had to play the game." He was examining the telegram he had first received.
"Let's see that message," said Sid, and he scanned it closely. "That's a fake!" he said suddenly.
"A fake!" repeated Tom and Phil.
"Yes. There's no check number on it. No message is ever sent out without a check number on it. This never came over the wire. Some one got hold of a receiving blank and an envelope, and played this brutal trick. Maybe it was one of the Boxer Hall fellows. He wanted to get your nerve, so you'd drop out of the game."
"I don't believe it was a Boxer Hall chap," said Phil.
"Then it was some one who had a grudge against you," insisted Sid. "We can inquire at the telegraph office and find out, maybe."
Tom uttered an exclamation. He had suddenly thought of the mysterious warning he had received. Quickly he brought out the torn pieces of paper. He saw it all now. The warning had been intended to cover the telegram--not a physical danger, but a mental one. Rapidly he explained how he got the note.
"I didn't say anything to you, Phil," he concluded, "because I was--I was afraid you'd laugh at me. And I kept my eyes open in the game."
"I understand," spoke the quarter-back. "But who sent this warning?"
Sid was eagerly examining it, for Tom had pasted the torn pieces together.
"I have it!" cried Sid. "Langridge sent this!"
"How do you know?" came from Phil and Tom at once.
"Because that's the kind of paper he uses. It has a peculiar water-mark. I'll show you. I have an old baseball note I got from him last term."
Sid brought out his note. The two were compared. The paper was exactly similar, and there were even some characteristic similarities in the writing, though one was in script and the other printed.
"Langridge sent this," decided Sid, and the others agreed with him.
"Then who sent the fake telegram?" inquired Phil.
"Gerhart, for all the world!" exclaimed Sid. "The cad! To play such a brutal trick!" Sid caught up his cap.
"Where are you going?" asked Tom.
"I'm going to confront him with this evidence, and have him run out of college!" burst out Sid. "This ends his course!"
But Gerhart had anticipated what was coming, when he saw that the cruel telegram he had sent Phil had had no effect, and that the plucky quarter-back continued playing. He evidently knew the game was up, and fled. For, when Sid called at the fashionable eating club, where Gerhart and Langridge had recently taken a room, he found only the former 'varsity pitcher there.
"Where's Gerhart?" asked Sid savagely.
"Gone," said Langridge, and he began to shake. He trembled more when Sid threw down the incriminating evidence, and blurted out the story.
"It's all true," confessed Langridge. "Gerhart stole the telegraph blank and an envelope, while I kept the agent busy talking about some money I expected to get. Gerhart made me go in the scheme with him, but I--I couldn't stand it, and I sent Tom the tip. I'm done with Gerhart. He faked the message to Phil and hired a boy to deliver it. I'm through with him!"
"I should think you would be!" burst out Sid, walking about the room. It was in confusion, for Gerhart had hurriedly departed. Sid's eye saw a bottle on the closet shelf. "What's this, Langridge?" he asked. "Why, it's liniment! The same kind Phil had, and which stiffened my hand! How did it get here? It's the same bottle that was broken--no, it can't be, yet there's the same blot on the label. How in thunder----"
Then Langridge confessed to that trick of Gerhart's also.
"He ought to be tarred and feathered!" cried the angry Sid. "If I had him here! But you're almost as bad, Langridge. You helped him!"
"I know it. I'm going to leave college, if you'll only keep still about this. Will you?" pleaded the cringing lad.
"Yes; for the sake of the college, not for you," spoke Sid, and that is how only the three chums knew the real story of the dastardly meanness of the two cronies. They thought they were well rid of their enemies, but they were mistaken. Those of you who care to read further of the happenings at Randall College may do so in the next book, to be called "Batting to Win." In that volume we shall meet all our friends again, and learn what Sid did during the greatest baseball game of the next season, and when the collegiate championship hung in the balance.
"Well, it's all over but the shouting," said Phil to his chums, as they sat in their room that night. From without came the joyous cries of those who were celebrating the football victory.
"All but putting a bronze tablet in the gym, to commemorate the pluck you showed," added Tom.
"Aw, forget it!" spoke Phil, as he got into a more comfortable position on the creaking sofa. "Anybody would have done the same to see his team win."
"Maybe," said Sid softly as he got up from the easy chair to look at his favorite football picture.
Then came a silence in the room, and the fussy little alarm clock had matters all to itself. It ticked away at a great rate.
Tom, who had been standing near the window, crossed to the opposite wall, and stood before the picture of a laughing girl. Phil saw him, smiled, and then, he, too, slowly arose from the decrepit sofa and went closer to a photograph of another girl. Thus the three stood, and the clock ticked on with quick, impatient strokes, and not a word was spoken.
THE END
THE COLLEGE SPORTS SERIES
BY LESTER CHADWICK
_12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in Colors_
_=Price per volume, $1.00, postpaid=_
_Mr. Chadwick has played on the diamond and on the gridiron himself._
1. THE RIVAL PITCHERS _A Story of College Baseball_
Tom Parsons, a "hayseed," makes good on the scrub team of Randall College.
2. A QUARTERBACK'S PLUCK _A Story of College Football_
A football story, told in Mr. Chadwick's best style, that is bound to grip the reader from the start.
3. BATTING TO WIN _A Story of College Baseball_
Tom Parsons and his friends Phil and Sid are the leading players on Randall College team. There is a great game.
4. THE WINNING TOUCHDOWN _A Story of College Football_
After having to reorganize their team at the last moment, Randall makes a touchdown that won a big game.
5. FOR THE HONOR OF RANDALL _A Story of College Athletics_
The winning of the hurdle race and long-distance run is extremely exciting.
6. THE EIGHT-OARED VICTORS _A Story of College Water Sports_
Tom, Phil and Sid prove as good at aquatic sports as they are on track, gridiron and diamond.
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_Lively stories of outdoor sports and adventure every boy will want to read._
1. JACK RANGER'S SCHOOL DAYS _or The Rivals of Washington Hall_
You will love Jack Ranger--you simply can't help it. He is bright and cheery, and earnest in all he does.
2. JACK RANGER'S WESTERN TRIP _or From Boarding School to Ranch and Range_
This volume takes the hero to the great West. Jack is anxious to clear up the mystery surrounding his father's disappearance.
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Jack gets back to Washington Hall and goes in for all sorts of school games. There are numerous contests on the athletic field.
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How Jack was carried off to sea against his will makes a "yarn" no boy will want to miss.
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Jack organizes a gun club and with his chums goes in quest of big game. They have many adventures in the mountains.
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Jack receives a box from his father and it is stolen. How he regains it makes an absorbing tale.
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Strange adventures on the planet which is found to be a land of desolation and silence.
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After a tremendous convulsion of nature the adventurers find themselves captives on a vast "island in the air."
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The City Beyond the Clouds is a weird place, full of surprises, and the impish Red Dwarfs caused no end of trouble. There is a fierce battle in the woods and in the midst of this a volcanic eruption sends the Americans sailing away in a feverish endeavor to save their lives.
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FOUR BOY HUNTERS _Or, The Outing of the Gun Club_
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GUNS AND SNOWSHOES _Or, The Winter Outing of the Young Hunters_
In this volume the young hunters leave home for a winter outing on the shores of a small lake. They hunt and trap to their heart's content, and have adventures in plenty, all calculated to make boys "sit up and take notice." A good healthy book; one with the odor of the pine forests and the glare of the welcome campfire in every chapter.
YOUNG HUNTERS OF THE LAKE _Or, Out with Rod and Gun_
Another tale of woods and waters, with some strong hunting scenes and a good deal of mystery. The three volumes make a splendid outdoor series.
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Bob Dexter came upon a man mysteriously injured and befriended him. This led the young detective into the swirling midst of a series of strange events and into the companionship of strange persons, not the least of whom was the man with the wooden leg. But Bob got the best of this vindictive individual, and solved the mystery of the log cabin, showing his friends how the secret entrance to the house was accomplished.
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THE MOTOR BOYS _or Chums Through Thick and Thin_
THE MOTOR BOYS OVERLAND _or A Long Trip for Fun and Fortune_
THE MOTOR BOYS IN MEXICO _or The Secret of the Buried City_
THE MOTOR BOYS ACROSS THE PLAINS _or The Hermit of Lost Lake_
THE MOTOR BOYS AFLOAT _or The Cruise of the Dartaway_
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THE MOTOR BOYS IN STRANGE WATERS _or Lost in a Floating Forest_
THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE PACIFIC _or The Young Derelict Hunters_
THE MOTOR BOYS IN THE CLOUDS _or A Trip for Fame and Fortune_
THE MOTOR BOYS OVER THE ROCKIES _or A Mystery of the Air_
THE MOTOR BOYS OVER THE OCEAN _or A Marvelous Rescue in Mid-Air_
THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE WING _or Seeking the Airship Treasure_
THE MOTOR BOYS AFTER A FORTUNE _or The Hut on Snake Island_
THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE BORDER _or Sixty Nuggets of Gold_
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THE MOTOR BOYS AT BOXWOOD HALL _or Ned, Bob and Jerry as Freshmen_
THE MOTOR BOYS ON A RANCH _or Ned, Bob and Jerry Among the Cowboys_
THE MOTOR BOYS IN THE ARMY _or Ned, Bob and Jerry as Volunteers_
THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE FIRING LINE _or Ned, Bob and Jerry Fighting for Uncle Sam_
THE MOTOR BOYS BOUND FOR HOME _or Ned, Bob and Jerry on the Wrecked Troopship_
THE MOTOR BOYS ON THUNDER MOUNTAIN _or The Treasure Box of Blue Rock_
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York
THE BASEBALL JOE SERIES
BY LESTER CHADWICK
_12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, $1.00, postpaid_
1. BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS _or The Rivals of Riverside_
Joe is an everyday country boy who loves to play baseball and particularly to pitch.
2. BASEBALL JOE ON THE SCHOOL NINE _or Pitching for the Blue Banner_
Joe's great ambition was to go to boarding school and play on the school team.
3. BASEBALL JOE AT YALE _or Pitching for the College Championship_
In his second year at Yale Joe becomes a varsity pitcher.
4. BASEBALL JOE IN THE CENTRAL LEAGUE _or Making Good as a Professional Pitcher_
From Yale College to a baseball league of our Central States.
5. BASEBALL JOE IN THE BIG LEAGUE _or A Young Pitcher's Hardest Struggles_
From the Central League Joe goes to the St. Louis Nationals.
6. BASEBALL JOE ON THE GIANTS _or Making Good as a Twirler in the Metropolis_
Joe was traded to the Giants and became their mainstay.
7. BASEBALL JOE IN THE WORLD SERIES _or Pitching for the Championship_
What Joe did to win the series will thrill the most jaded reader.
8. BASEBALL JOE AROUND THE WORLD _or Pitching on a Grand Tour_
The Giants and the All-Americans tour the world.
9. BASEBALL JOE: HOME RUN KING _or The Greatest Pitcher and Batter on Record_
Joe becomes the greatest batter in the game.
10. BASEBALL JOE SAVING THE LEAGUE _or Breaking Up a Great Conspiracy_
Throwing the game meant a fortune but also dishonor.
11. BASEBALL JOE CAPTAIN OF THE TEAM _or Bitter Struggles on the Diamond_
Joe is elevated to the position of captain.
12. BASEBALL JOE CHAMPION OF THE LEAGUE _or The Record that was Worth While_
A plot is hatched to put Joe's pitching arm out of commission.
13. BASEBALL JOE CLUB OWNER _or Putting the Home Town on the Map_
Joe developes muscle weakness and is ordered off the field for a year.
_Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue_
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York
SEA STORIES FOR BOYS
BY JOHN GABRIEL ROWE
_Large 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Colored jacket_
_=Price per volume, $1.00 Net=_
_Every boy who knows the lure of exploring, and who loves to rig up huts and caves and tree-houses to fortify himself against imaginary enemies will enjoy these books, for they give a vivid chronicle of the doings and inventions of a group of boys who are shipwrecked and have to make themselves snug and safe in tropical islands where the dangers are too real for play._
1. CRUSOE ISLAND
Dick, Alf and Fred find themselves stranded on an unknown island with the old seaman Josh. Their ship destroyed by fire, their friends lost, they have to make shift for themselves for a whole exciting year before being rescued.
2. THE ISLAND TREASURE
With much ingenuity these boys fit themselves into the wild life of the island they are cast upon in storm. They build various kinds of strongholds and spend most of their time outwitting their enemies.
3. THE MYSTERY OF THE DERELICT
Their ship and companions perished in tempest at sea, the boys are adrift in a small open boat when they spy a ship. Such a strange vessel!--no hand guiding it, no soul on board,--a derelict. It carries a gruesome mystery, as the boys soon discover, and it leads them into a series of strange experiences.
_Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue_
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, PUBLISHERS New York
THE BOMBA BOOKS
BY ROY ROCKWOOD
_12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. With colored jacket_
_=Price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid=_
_Bomba lived far back in the jungles of the Amazon with a half-demented naturalist who told the lad nothing of his past. The jungle boy was a lover of birds, and hunted animals with a bow and arrow and his trusty machete. He had a primitive education in some things, and his daring adventures will be followed with breathless interest by thousands._
1. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY _or The Old Naturalist's Secret_
In the depth of the jungle Bomba lives a life replete with thrilling situations. Once he saves the lives of two American rubber hunters who ask him who he is, and how he had come into the jungle. He sets off to solve the mystery of his identity.
2. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY AT THE MOVING MOUNTAIN _or The Mystery of the Caves of Fire_
Bomba travels through the jungle, encountering wild beasts and hostile natives. At last he trails the old man of the burning mountain to his cave and learns more concerning himself.
3. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY AT THE GIANT CATARACT _or Chief Nascanora and His Captives_
From the Moving Mountain Bomba travels to the Giant Cataract, still searching out his parentage. Among the Pilati Indians he finds some white captives, and an aged opera singer who is the first to give Bomba real news of his forebears.
4. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY ON JAGUAR ISLAND _or Adrift on the River of Mystery_
Jaguar Island was a spot as dangerous as it was mysterious and Bomba was warned to keep away. But the plucky boy sallied forth and met adventures galore.
5. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY IN THE ABANDONED CITY _or A Treasure Ten Thousand Years Old_
Years ago this great city had sunk out of sight beneath the trees of the jungle. A wily half-breed and his tribe thought to carry away its treasure of gold and precious stones. Bomba follows.
_Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue_
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York
THE BOY RANCHERS SERIES
BY WILLARD F. BAKER
_12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors_
_=Price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid=_
_Stories of the great west, with cattle ranches as a setting, related in such a style as to captivate the hearts of all boys._
1. THE BOY RANCHERS _or Solving the Mystery at Diamond X_
Two eastern boys visit their cousin. They become involved in an exciting mystery.
2. THE BOY RANCHERS IN CAMP _or The Water Fight at Diamond X_
Returning for a visit, the two eastern lads learn, with delight, that they are to become boy ranchers.
3. THE BOY RANCHERS ON THE TRAIL _or The Diamond X After Cattle Rustlers_
Our boy heroes take the trail after Del Pinzo and his outlaws.
4. THE BOY RANCHERS AMONG THE INDIANS _or Trailing the Yaquis_
Rosemary and Floyd are captured by the Yaqui Indians but the boy ranchers trailed them into the mountains and effected the rescue.
5. THE BOY RANCHERS AT SPUR CREEK _or Fighting the Sheep Herders_
Dangerous struggle against desperadoes for land rights brings out heroic adventures.
6. THE BOY RANCHERS IN THE DESERT _or Diamond X and the Lost Mine_
One night a strange old miner almost dead from hunger and hardship arrived at the bunk house. The boys cared for him and he told them of the lost desert mine.
7. THE BOY RANCHERS ON ROARING RIVER _or Diamond X and the Chinese Smugglers_
The boy ranchers help capture Delton's gang who were engaged in smuggling Chinese across the border.
_Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue_
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York
Transcriber's Notes:
--Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_); text in bold by "equal" signs (=bold=).
--Printer, punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.
--Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved, except as noted below.
--Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.
--Standardized instances of "Westcott" (p. 220, p. 222) to the more frequent "Wescott" University.
--Retained author's long dash style.
End of Project Gutenberg's A Quarter-Back's Pluck, by Lester Chadwick