CHAPTER XXVI

FRANK WITHDRAWS

Tense and anxious faces looked into those of Holly and Kindlings as the athletic committee drew closer to the platform in the gymnasium. The doors were closed. The Exter lads had been taken in charge by some Randall fraternity members, but it could not be said that there was a spirit of gaiety observable. Only those of whom it was absolutely required attended lectures. The others, not charged with the extending of courtesies to the Exter lads, hung about the gymnasium, waiting for any news that might leak out.

“Well, boys, what’s to be done?” asked Holly, rather helplessly, as he faced his committee. Tom, Sid, Phil and Frank, of course, were present.

“Who’s got anything to suggest?” asked Dan Woodhouse.

It seemed that the two trainers and managers were all at sea, as, indeed, were most of the others.

“I suggest that Frank tells us all he knows about this case,” said Tom, finally. “We’re with him to the last. I guess I needn’t say that, though,” he added.

“That’s right,” chimed in several others.

Frank arose, all eyes turned toward him.

“Fellows,” he began, “I can’t tell you how sorry I am that this thing has come to you. It’s like a bolt out of a clear sky to me, and I needn’t say that I never dreamed of such a charge being brought.”

“We know it,” said someone.

“If I was surprised when the charge was made against Shambler--and he admitted it was true,” went on the Big Californian. “I was completely astounded when they named me as the second man. I hardly know what to say.”

“Did you really take part in those games?” asked Holly.

“I did, but there was not the least hint of professionalism. No one dreamed of such a thing. As I recollect it, a number of college fellows were asked to compete. I was at Stanford University at the time. I entered. It was for some charity. I’ve forgotten just what now, but a hospital, I think. A business men’s committee was formed, and I was told there were to be several prizes offered for contestants. We didn’t care about them, for we only thought of doing our best and winning. We all supposed the prizes would be medals, cups, or something like that.

“Then there was some talk of money prizes being offered. But I don’t believe any of us thought anything about it being professional to compete for money, but I know we college fellows held a meeting.

“We decided unanimously that whatever prizes we won we would donate to the charity for which the contests were run off. None of us wanted them. Then came the meet.

“I don’t know just how many events I took part in. I think I won the pole vault, as well as the mile run, but I’m not sure. Anyhow, I know that after the games a man came up to me, and some of the other winners, with envelopes. I realize now that they must have contained money--the prize money.

“Everyone of us waved him aside, and the general order was: ‘Give it to the hospital,’ if it was a hospital for which the meet was held. I know I never accepted a cent, and none of the other college fellows did. That’s all there is to it.”

There was a short period of silence following the statement by the Big Californian. Then Tom arose in his seat.

“Mr. Chairman,” he said, “I move you that we take a vote of confidence in Frank, first of all, and then that we send word to Exter and Boxer Hall and Fairview, that the charges of professionalism are groundless in this case, and that Frank will take part in the games.”

“Second it!” yelled Joe Jackson.

“One minute,” began Holly calmly. “I appreciate the spirit in which that motion was made, and I’ll put it at the proper time. But, before I do, I’d like to know if anyone here has a copy of the A. A. U. rules bearing on professionalism. If he has will he see if they bear on this case?”

“I’ve got a copy!” said Dan Woodhouse, “and I know ’em pretty much by heart. I don’t believe that Frank would be barred under the rules. They make the ‘acceptance’ of money a bar, I think, and by his own evidence Frank didn’t accept it.”

“Not that I want to seem to believe for a moment this charge, but because I think we ought to be very sure of our ground, I make this suggestion,” spoke Phil Clinton. “Of course Frank didn’t take, or accept, the money. But might it not be said that by tacitly turning it over to the charity after winning it, that he had it? I’m afraid they’ll say--the committee I mean--that when he competed for a money prize he became a professional.”

“No! No!” cried several.

“Well, that’s one way of looking at it,” said Holly Cross. “That’s what we’re here to decide. Shall we fight this case, and have it threshed out in a general meeting, or----”

“Fight! Fight!” cried a number.

“Frank isn’t a professional, and never was,” declared Sid Henderson, jumping up and excitedly waving his arms. “I say let’s defy Exter and all the rest.”

“And maybe break up the meet?” asked Dan.

“Fellows, let me speak once more,” begged Frank. “I have thought this matter over carefully in the last few minutes, and, while I don’t retreat one point from my position, perhaps a compromise would be better than a contest.”

“No! No! Contest it!” was the general cry.

“Wait!” begged the lad who had most at stake. “This comes at an unfortunate moment. Shambler confessed that he was a professional. Fortunately it came in time to save the honor of Randall. Now, what I propose to do is for the further honor of our college.”

“What’s the matter with Frank Simpson?” demanded Bean Perkins.

“He’s--all--right!” was thundered out.

“Thank you, boys,” responded the Big Californian, when quiet had been restored. “I appreciate all that, but we must face the facts. As soon as it becomes known that Shambler has confessed, there will be a lot of talk. Fortunately Randall can’t be scorned. We have done our duty. Now there’s this charge against me. There are some complications in it. I believe----”

“A fair committee would never bar you,” broke in Tom.

“Perhaps not,” admitted Frank. “But we don’t want any question raised. Boys,” he went on, and his voice was solemn, “we have to think of the honor of Randall before we think of ourselves. It’s the college and not the contestants who will be exalted, or dragged down, as the case may be.

“I fully believe that I am in the right, and that no charge of professionalism would stand against me. But, for the honor of Randall I want you to let me withdraw. I----”

“No! No!” came a storm of protests.

“Stick it out!” urged Joe Jackson.

“We’re with you to the end,” added Phil.

Frank raised his hand for silence.

“It’s very good of you to say that,” he went on, when he could be heard, “but I know how these things sometimes turn out. There is talk afterward. You don’t want the success of Randall questioned, in case she should win this meet.”

“But can we win with you and Shambler out?” someone asked.

“Boys, you’ve got to--for the honor of Randall,” said Frank quietly. “You’ve just got to! You’ve got to let me drop out, and someone must take my place. It can be done, easily. Someone must run for Shambler, too. I know it’s going to be hard to get someone with his record, but we’ll do it. Boys, I’m not going to take part in the games. That’s final!”

In spite of the fact that they all expected this as a climax to what Frank had started to say, it came as a shock. There was a tense silence, and then someone asked:

“Isn’t there a way out? We need you, Simpson.”

“There is no way out, except my resignation,” answered Frank, “and I hereby tender it now, formally, and ask that it be accepted at once. Then you can go into the games with a clean slate, and--win!”