Part 10

"Let us hope that it will prove to be so. I rejoice with you that the muskets of Lexington have been heard, now let us see to it that the guns of Yorktown shall also be heard. Or to put it in another way, the victory of a Bull Run does not always mean that the same parties are in similar conditions at Appomattox. The declaration of independence did not of itself make the colonies free. They had to prove their right and ability to be free; but still the declaration had to come first. You have fought at Lexington, and have declared your independence, and I think too you have had your Trenton and Princeton. Now if Valley Forge and Benedict Arnold come along why you will not forget what followed them. But I don't mean to stand here and croak of possible ills. I am confident now, Hill, that you are beginning to be master of yourself, and that is what the discipline and training of a school course and school life are for. Come and see me again soon, Hill. Good-bye."

"Good-bye, Mr. Crane," said Ward; and then he started directly across the campus toward his room to prepare for supper.

Somehow he was feeling strangely elated. He could not see that there had been any radical change in himself or in his relations with his fellows, but the trial of the afternoon on the ball-ground had been passed, and he had played a game which certainly must have proven to all that whether he was on the nine or not, there was no one in the school who could do better.

And he could not fail to see too the change which already had become manifest in the feelings of many of the boys toward him. The surprise with which they had first observed him when he went out on the field, the sneers of Tim Pickard, reflected in a measure by some of his boon companions, the remarks which his appearance had called forth, had all soon changed, that is, all save Tim's malice, which had given place to an expression of intense and bitter hatred.

Still Ward thought he could endure that. His vigorous body was still tingling from the effects of his exercise, and the words of Mr. Crane were still sounding in his ears. Added to all that was the evident pleasure of the spectators which his ability as a player had aroused, and the cordial encouragement of the one teacher in the school whom he most respected and loved. Ward was beginning to feel as if life were not such a heavy burden after all.

"Well, Ward, that was a great game you put up this afternoon," said Henry, as his room-mate entered the room. "The way in which you batted Tim almost broke him up."

"Did it?" said Ward lightly, as he at once began to wash.

"It did that, and it tickled the rest of us, or rather some of us, mightily too. Tim will soon have to give you back your place on the nine."

"No, he'll not do that," replied Ward quickly. "Tim's got enough of the nine under his thumb to have his say, and I know he'd rather leave than have me on the team."

"But surely, Ward, after to-day's work you'll not object to Jack's proposal?"

"Jack's proposal? I don't know just what you mean."

"Why, that he and I should tell Tim that he must take you back or we'd leave the nine."

"No. I never should agree to that," replied Ward quietly. "I'd never want to get on the nine in that way. I'd stay off forever before I'd do that. Not that I don't thank you," he hastily added, as he saw an expression of genuine disappointment creeping over his room-mate's face. "It's mighty good of you and Jack, and I'll never forget it, either. But, you see, even if I were willing to go on in that way, Tim still has the most of the nine, and I think the most of the school too, on his side, and I think it would break up the team. And with the game coming on with the Burrs so soon now, that would never do, you see."

"Still, I wish you were on the nine, Ward," said Henry. "I want you, and the nine needs you."

"Oh, well," replied Ward, speaking far more lightly than he felt, "it'll all come out right in the end. Jordan's a hard road to travel, but I've got to take things as they come."

"You're doing great work in the classes, anyway, Ward. Dr. Gray told me the other night that your reports were great so far in the term."

"Did he say that?" said Ward eagerly, his hunger for praise returning in an instant.

"Yes, that's just what he said."

"Well, that's enough without making the nine."

Ward's prophecy proved to be correct. Unknown to him Henry and Jack went and had a talk with Tim Pickard, but the captain of the nine utterly refused to listen to any plea in Ward's behalf. He threatened, if they persisted in pressing his claims, to throw up his own position and take with him the four members of the team whom he controlled, and with the aid of whose votes he was always able to have his own way, as with his own vote they made a majority.

Neither of the boys informed Ward of their efforts on his behalf, fearing that the failure might serve to dampen the returning ardor which he now displayed.

And Ward longed to be on the nine too. Conscious of his own ability as a player, and eager as he was for the excitement of the games and the applause of his fellows, it was no slight disappointment to feel that he was shut off from it all, and that he was powerless to change the conditions that surrounded him.

He did not go down to the grounds every day, for that seemed to him too much as if he were pushing for his former place on the nine. Still, he went there frequently and willingly taking any position assigned him on the scrub team, threw himself into the game with all his heart.

Meanwhile he did not neglect his lessons. Come what might, he was resolved to do well in them. As the days passed his own pleasure increased as he saw that no one in the class was doing better than he. Berry thus far was his most dangerous competitor, for "Luscious" was a bright fellow and not one to shirk his work. His influence on Jack too, was becoming apparent, and Jack's class work was far better than any he had ever done in the course of his three years at Weston.

Jack seemed to rejoice in his own success too, and made many sly references to the honors he was hoping to win. Indeed, he was accustomed now to refer to himself and Ward and Luscious when the three by chance were together as the "three valedics."

"And the greater of the three--ah, that's a secret. That's to be revealed in the forthcoming chapters, as the books say," he would laughingly add.

Another change also became manifest in Ward. There was no more surprised boy in all the Weston school than Big Smith, when one morning on his way to the Latin room Ward overtook him and walked on by his side.

"Got your lesson, Smith?" said Ward.

"No, not all of it. I fear I'm like the men that toiled all night and took nothing. I've been studying hours and hours on one passage here, but somehow I can't get it."

"Which is it?" said Ward cordially. "Perhaps I can give you a lift."

"If you only would, Ward," said Big Smith eagerly, as he opened the book at the difficult passage.

Ward translated the passage, and when he had finished, Big Smith said: "I don't understand how it is, Ward, that you can do these things and I can't. My brain is larger than yours," and Big Smith removed his hat and thoughtfully stroked his hair as he spoke. "Now I've always heard that the size of a man's head was the measure of his ability, and I know my hat is two sizes larger than yours, Ward. And yet you could read that place and I couldn't," he added ruefully. "How do you account for it, Ward?"

"Quality, not quantity," said Ward with a laugh, who was light-hearted in the consciousness of having helped another, a comparatively new experience for him.

The consequences of that act made Ward afterward somewhat dubious as to the real benefits he had bestowed on his classmate. Almost every evening Big Smith obtained permission from Mr. Blake to go up to Ward's room, and for a long time he would remain there and listen to Ward as he translated the difficult passages for him.

At last his presence during the study hour became a burden. "Big Smith is an unmitigated nuisance," Henry declared. The boys posted great notices on their door which bore such alarming headlines as "Smallpox within," "This is my busy day," "No one admitted except on business," "Danger," and other similar mild and suggestive devices. But Big Smith calmly ignored them all, and every night when the study hour was about half done would appear, and with his unmoved and benign countenance ask for the aid which Ward never refused him now.

At last Henry declared it could be borne no longer, and as Ward knew how hard the work was for his chum and how Big Smith's interruptions confused him, he uttered no protest when Henry boldly told the intruder one night that if he wanted help he must come for it out of study hours.

"But I don't ask you for help, Henry," replied Big Smith in apparent surprise.

"I know that; but you're imposing on Ward's good nature, and I can't study when you two fellows are talking. Besides, I don't think it's the square thing for you to take Ward's work into class as your own."

"But I don't," protested Big Smith warmly. "I never in my life took his work into class."

"Why don't you get a pony, Big Smith? That would be the easiest way out of it."

"Me get a pony? Do you think I'd use a translation? Not much. I'm thankful for one thing, and that is, I never have used a pony, as you call it, yet."

"What do you call it when you come up here and get Ward to read your Latin and Greek to you, I'd like to know."

"That? Oh, that's not a pony. That's just Ward Hill."

Both his hearers laughed in spite of their efforts to restrain themselves, Big Smith meanwhile looking from one to the other as if he were not quite able to see the joke.

"No, Big Smith," said Henry at last, "I don't want to be small or mean, but I have to work hard for all I get, and when you come up here in study hours you just break me all up. I don't mind it any other time; but it doesn't seem to me just the square thing to break in on another fellow's time. I wouldn't do it; it doesn't seem to me that Mr. Blake ought to let you do it, either. What are the study hours for?"

"I'm sure I don't want to come here if I'm not wanted," replied Big Smith soberly.

"That's not it; that's not it at all," protested Henry. "It's only for a quiet study hour I'm arguing. I don't think you ought to break in on another fellow's work. Now, do you?"

"But," said Big Smith in his most solemn tones, "all my teachers say I've been doing a great deal better work of late. I'm sure you wouldn't want me to drop back in my work or stand lower in the class, would you?"

With a hopeless sigh Henry turned again to his work. It seemed as if it were almost impossible to impress the conception of the needs of any one else on Big Smith's mind.

Ward, however, finally adjusted matters to the satisfaction of both by promising his aid to Big Smith after breakfast each morning, in the hour between breakfast time and chapel. In his new desire to follow out Jack's suggestion and make himself familiar and helpful to his companions, he never once thought of the harm he might be doing Big Smith. Indeed he went much further, and soon a number of the boys in the class joined Big Smith each morning and listened to Ward as he read aloud the lessons of the day.

And Ward was thinking only of the aid he was giving, not at all of the harm the others might receive. But then we are told in many ways outside the realm of physics that the reaction is always equal to the action. Perhaps Ward Hill, however, was yet to learn that lesson--a lesson which certainly each must learn for himself and not for another.

Meanwhile, through all these days Ward's room not been touched. Whoever had done the "stacking" had now, at least for a time, ceased from his labors. That there was still a very bitter feeling against him on the part of many he well knew, nor could he attribute it all to the immediate circle of the "Tangs."

Ward felt the prejudice keenly, but he resolutely held himself to his work, and by the aid he gave the boys in their lessons and by mingling with them more than he had done of late, he was hoping to win his way back to the position he had once held in the school.

Nor was this born of a weak desire for popularity alone. That was true in part, but only in part; but Ward Hill, as we have said, was one of those few persons who cannot deceive themselves.

And he had realized the truthfulness of Jack's and Mr. Crane's words, and was now resolutely trying to set himself right. While he longed for and keenly enjoyed the praise and good-will of his fellows, still unless he felt in his heart that they were true and deserved he did not feel thoroughly happy in receiving them. So perhaps a dual motive was at work at this time on Ward's heart--the eager longing for the praise of the school and the equally strong desire to feel that it was true and merited. Let us not blame him too harshly. Purely good motives are sadly lacking in this world of ours. And then, even a gold coin contains some alloy, but the most of us are not inclined to reject the use which can be made of it because of the baser metal it contains.

Little Pond was now doing nobly. He looked up to Ward with unbounded confidence. Ward more than once found himself wondering whether he had ever looked up to a senior in that way. Still he rejoiced in the little fellow's success and felt strongly drawn to him, although he knew in his heart that his days of trial were not all past.

And now the approaching game with the Burrs became the absorbing topic of the school. The nine was working vigorously and Ward went down more frequently to play on the team which was to give them their daily practice.

No one knew how heavy his heart was and with what unutterable longing he desired his place on the team. Still he held himself resolutely to the line he had marked out. He studied faithfully, tried to make himself friendly with the boys, and apparently threw himself heartily into the task of giving the nine the practice they sadly needed. And no one heard him complain, and not even to Jack did he mention his desire for his former position, a position now filled by Ripley. And yet somehow he had the feeling that Jack understood, although neither made any reference to it now.

So matters stood on the day before the great game. The final preparations had been completed, the last practice of the nine had occurred, and throughout the school there was the strong though subdued excitement which always preceded the great game.

But Ward Hill, with a heavy heart and a kind of dull misery, looked forward to the morrow.

*CHAPTER XVI*

*THE BEGINNING OF THE GREAT GAME*

The following morning dawned clear and bright, and many a boy in the Weston school gave a sigh of relief when first he looked from his windows. The rugged hills, now covered with the highly tinted autumn foliage, displayed patches of clouds resting on their summits or creeping far up along the wooded slopes. The sun, however, would soon burn away all such slight affairs as these gray-colored floating clouds or stretches of fog, and the boys were rejoicing.

The games with the Burrs were the great events of the school year. Not only were the schools themselves of equally high standing, and in a sense rivals, but the advantage for a few years now in the ball games had been with the Burrs, and the Weston boys consequently were especially eager to win this time. As the game was to be played upon their own grounds they had a slight advantage, but all were somewhat nervous and the excitement ran correspondingly high.

There were to be recitations in the morning only. It was almost impossible for the eager lads to hold themselves to their work, but the teachers were somewhat lenient with them, and some of the ludicrous mistakes were passed over with a smile.

Indeed, it was whispered that the teachers themselves were not far behind the boys in sharing the excitement which pervaded the school, and were as desirous that the nine should win as were the players themselves.

Soon after noon autos could be seen coming along the pretty valley roads or making their way over the hillsides. But whether from hill or valley made no difference, for there was one destination for them all and that was the ball ground. Old and young, men and women, boys and girls were there, and the assembled crowd gave promise of being unusually large.

The great busses filled with the boys and girls from the neighboring school began to put in an appearance, for the rival school was co-educational in its methods, and the girls were apparently as eager and excited as their brothers. Long streamers and banners floated out from behind the well-filled machines and many of the girls were waving flags or long ribbons of the school colors, handily adjusted to a cane or some similar device.

A crowd of the Weston boys was waiting in front of the chapel for the Burr nine to come, for it was known that they were to have a special auto.

Some of the members of the Weston nine, clad in their bright new uniforms, mingled with the crowd and as a committee were waiting to welcome and conduct the visiting nine to the dressing rooms. Their efforts to appear calm and unmindful of the attention they attracted provoked a smile from some of the waiting boys, but no one begrudged them the honors which were theirs, and as they joined in the shouts and laughter which continually arose, or stopped to converse about the prospects of the nine in the coming game, the interest steadily increased.

"There they are! There they come!" suddenly some one in the crowd shouted, and in a moment the sound of the horn carried by the Burrs could be heard in the distance. In a brief time the huge auto drew up before the crowd and the Burr nine leaped nimbly out upon the ground.

"Hello, Shackford," said Tim Pickard advancing and grasping the outstretched hand of the rival captain. "Glad to see you. If we have as big a game as we have crowd, there will be something to see before night comes."

Tim proceeded to shake hands with each member of the team and then at once started with them to lead the way to the rooms which had been assigned to the visitors.

The waiting crowd parted and stood watching with undisguised curiosity the opposing nine as they filed past them following Tim. Certainly they were a sturdy lot, and the low murmurs which could be heard among the Weston boys as the others withdrew were not entirely those of confidence in the success of their own team.

Meanwhile Ward Hill had gone down to the ball ground and lay on the grass in the rear of the field in a place from which he could easily follow the progress of the game.

Beside him were Henry and Jack, both in uniforms, the latter sitting erect and occasionally pounding the ground before him with the bat he was holding in his hands. Not one of the trio was happy, and Ward least so of the three, although he was striving manfully to appear unmindful of the excitement which, though subdued, was still apparent on all sides of them.

"It's tough, Ward," said Jack; "I want to win this game, but I never went into one with such a mean feeling as I've got now. It's a shame you're not to play. It's worse than a shame. The nine needs you and I know how you feel, old fellow. Say, Ward," he added, suddenly leaping to his feet, "if you'll say the word, we'll fix Tim yet. Henry and I can go to him and declare that if he won't take you on, we're off. And he'll have to give in now, with the crowd all here and everything ready to begin."

"Yes, Ward, that's what we'll do," chimed in Henry. "It can be done now."

"No, fellows," said Ward shaking his head. "I told you I couldn't go on in that way; and then too, I'm not in practice, you know."

"Bother the practice! You'll do better without it than most of us can with it. Here they come, Ward! Say the word and the deed's done."

But Ward still shook his head. He could not bring himself to do what Jack asked. And yet how he did long to be in the game!

The appearance of the nines upon the field was greeted by a shout and the school cheers were almost deafening on every side. The banners and flags were waving, the girls were standing erect in the autos, and the entire scene was stirring and exhilarating in the highest degree. "Good luck to you, fellows," said Ward as Jack and Henry started to go and join their comrades.

Neither of them replied save by the look which they gave him and soon were with the nine.

The ground was cleared now, and the allotted time of preliminary practice for each team was given. As Ward watched the boys it almost seemed to him that he could not endure the sight. Only a year before and he had been one of the team. Even now he could feel again the thrill which he had when at the close of that famous game his mates had borne him from the field on their shoulders. But now no one seemed to care whether he played or not. And all the time there was the consciousness in his own heart that there was not a better player than he in all the Weston school.

Summoning all his resolution he left his place and took a position near the end of the long line of Weston boys who were standing well back on one side of the ground. He had seen Big Smith and Pond there, and even their company was comforting to him now.

"Hello, Ward," was Big Smith's hail as Ward approached; "I should think you would wish you were on the nine now. Do you know, I almost feel as if I could play well enough myself to take a position."

Ward made no response, though Big Smith little realized how his words had stung the troubled boy. The Weston nine had taken their positions in the field and the game was about to begin.

Ward glanced out toward left field, his old position, and his heart was bitter toward Ripley, who now was playing there. Ward knew he could fill the place much better than Ripley ever could. Indeed, his heart was so bitter that he was almost divided in his feelings between his desire for the Weston boys to win, and that Ripley and Tim should not put up a good game.

But everything was in readiness now and the hush which came over the assembly betrayed the suppressed excitement. Shackford grasped his bat and advanced to the plate, the umpire tossed the ball to Tim and gave the word, and the game with the Burrs was begun.

Tim settled himself into his position, drew back his arm and sent the ball in with all the speed he could put forth. Shackford for two years had been captain of the Burr nine and his prowess was well known. There was no one the Weston boys feared as they did him.

Shackford was ready, and the very first ball Tim sent in he caught fairly on the end of the bat and sent far down the field close to the foul flag.

A shout of delight arose from all the friends of the Burrs as the runner started swiftly toward the first base.

"Foul, foul ball!" called the umpire and Shackford stopped suddenly on his way to the second base.

A murmur of disapproval arose from the crowd, and Ward, who was standing not very far from the place where the ball had struck, shook his head. To him the ball had seemed fair, but he said nothing and admired the spirit of Shackford as he raised his hand toward his supporters, betokening his desire for no manifestations of the kind which had just been heard, and went slowly back to the home-plate and once more picking up his bat stood facing the pitcher.

"One strike!" called the umpire as Tim sent the ball swiftly in.

"Two strikes!" he called again as the second ball went whistling past.