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Page 147 text:
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C. H.S. THE CANTONIAN I I I I I I o'cl0ck of the next evening he broke excitedly into the room occupied by Sam Hawkins, known as Red, and leader of the crowd which had hazed Hartwell. Several other boys were also present, draped about on the furniture in various picturesque attitudes. VVhat do you suppose has happened ? he burst out. You know that Freshman we hazed in Blackwell Hall? VVell, he went to Dr, Andrews and squealedf' He what? gasped the unbelieving chorus. He what? He squealedf' repeated Skinny. I was waiting in the outer office to see Doc about my history flank last spring and the door was wide open, so I couldxft help hearing. You oughter been there. Gee, but he's a regular fire cracker. Said that everyone of the bunch that was in his room ought to be expelled, that the school was nothing more than a mob of roughnecks and a whole lot more. Each boy gasped in astonishment. Such a state of affairs had never before existed at VVells. He is ready to identify every fellow in the bunch, went on Skinny, and then to Red: He's described us from A to Z. The insignificant little son-of-a-gun, mused Red. He must have a streak of yellow that goes clear thru. That's just it, agreed Skinny. He's saffron to the core and out beyond. It was wonderful how fast the news spread. From room to room, from dormitory to dormitory it fiew, leaving a trail of disgusted and indignant boys behind. ,Could Hartwell have heard the many uncomplimentary remarks made about him it would have opened his eyes. Next morning he saw one of his classmates whom he had made up his mind to like. His words of greeting were interrupted by: Is it true. Hartwell, that you squealed on those Sophs who hazed you night before last? I don't like the way you express it, said Hartwell, but I certainly went to Dr. Andrews about the matter. I considered it my duty to- He paused, surprised at the scorn and contempt in his classmate's face. Then the latter turned of without another word, leaving him angry, and considerably mystified. Similar meetings happened thruout the day and the boy had finally began to doubt the wisdom, from the standpoint of policy, of what he had done. At first he was hurt and scornful, but as the days dragged into weeks, and weeks into months, he began to feel different toward his schoolmates. It changed him so nmeh that he felt fully as much contempt at what he had donq in ignorance, as did any of those who judged him. He could see now, as he broadened, how serious his offense had been and he knew that he had no one to blame but himself. This change was the only thing that kept James Hartwell in school. Quitter was a new word added to his vocabuIa1'y and he had resolved to stick to his guns to the last, and to make the fellows at VVells respect him. Being alone most of the time Hartwell had plenty of leisure after his studying was fin- ished. He formed the habit of taking long walks into the country and it was these tramlps that gave him his big idea. He sought out the athletic coach and told him the whole story. I know I can put it over if you help me, concluded the lad. But I don't want anyoiie to know about it until I've made good. VVhy, of course, I'll help you, said the coach, gripping Hartwell's hand. Thus began Hartwell's training for the cross-country team. In one of those tramps he had jogged around the twelve mile course, timing himself just for the fun of it, and later looked up the school's record. Of course it was far below the time of the school record, but the boy learned something he had not known before, that in him was the making of a long distance runner. The VVells cross-country team had been defeated three years in succession by the Stanton School, her nearest rival. The coach had been searching for material to bolster up his weak cross-country team with little success, and when he saw Hartwell in action, his eyes lighted up, and he muttered joyfully, VVhy, that boy is a regular find. The cross-country race took place between VVells and Stanton as soon as the ground had dried sufficiently in the spring. The course was spoken of as a howling terror. It swung around in a big circle over a range of steep hills where the ground was studded with boulders of all kinds and sizes, traversed an irregular section of recently cleared wood-lot, included a twelve-foot leap across a muddy stream and a quarter of a mile of marsh beyond it, followed a little used wood road for four miles and finished with a level two-mile stretch of macadam, which brought the runners to the tape in front of the gym. By agreement between the schools each team was to consist of five men and only the first three to finish on each side counted scoring points according to places secured. The lowest score won. Surprise and disgust was universal when James Hartwell's name appeared on the bulletin board as a member of the cross-country team. The Old Man's losing his punch, said one loyal spirit. The idea of sending a runner like Toodles Thompson to the bench. III III 143 Illll
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Page 146 text:
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THE CANTONIAN C. HS I I I - - I I I TI-IE STREAK OF YELLOW AMES HARTVVELI, was awakened from a sound sleep by a number of vigorous thumps at his door. There was a scuffling of many feet and a confused murmur of voices outside. Open the door, Frosh, hurry up, ordered some one, and from this Hartwell concluded that his visitors must be members of the upper class, who wished to make his acquaintance. uGet a wiggle on, Frosh. VVhat's the matter with you? Hartwell smiled scornfully. Open the door to those roughs? Most certainly not. Try all your keys, fellows, one of them may fit? Different keys were tried but apparently none fitted. Here comes Spud Murphy, he's got a master key, called some one in the distance and an instant later the door swung open. and a crowd of upper classinen filed solemnly in. The leader calmly proceeded to light the lamp. Hartwell was white with anger. Get out of here, every one of youf' he cried passion- ately. iiThis room is mine and you have no right here. My goodness, exclaimed the leader, seating himself on the table. VVhat a little game- cock he is. He was a pleasant appearing youth with red hair and wore a blue sweater on which was blazoned a big white VV. Thus he appealed to his fellows. NVhat shall we do with it.?', Questions came one after another from around the circle. but not one of the crowd smiled nor lost a particle of his dignity. VVhat's your name, Frosh ? How old are you?', Is your papa proud of his little boy F Does mama send it bon-bons F Hartwell made no reply to these questions, whereat the leader made a sign for silence. It's tongue is tied, he affirmed. VVhat's good for tied tongues?i' As with one accord the twenty solemnly answered, Soapsuds.', Exactly, replied the leader. Skinny, investigate, and if possible prepare the soapsudsf' A fat boy arose from his seat on the floor and carried out these orders, presently appear- ing with a glass of foaming suds. VVhat's your name, Frosh? No answer. All right, fellows, down with himf' Yelling and striking out with hands and feet, Hartwell was thrown. A liberal gob of suds was forced between his clenched teeth, whereupon he was allowed to rise. Now before you go on,', interrupted the leader, I wapt to give this Freshman a bit of advice. When a boy comes to this school, he stands or falls on his merits alone. His folks may be rich or poor, that makes no difference. If he's a snob, and that kind break in here, some- times it goes pretty hard with him till he's cured or leaves. Vfe generally manage to get a fair idea of what a fellow is by the way he takes a little hazing. I've said this for your own good. Now, Frosh, went on the youth with the fiery mop of hair, we're really good friends of yours, though you don't believe it. VVe're doing it for your own good, as parents often say before whipping their erring children, though we do not claim it hurts us more than it does you. 'fYou will now perform for our amusement. First, Iill request you to retire into the con- fines of your closet and when the signal is given thrust forth your head and strike like a coo-coo-clock? Whom shall I strike? he inquired, giving care to his grammar. A chorus of groans greeted his sally and he was hustled into the closet with the informa- tion that he was entirely too fresh. After he had coo-cooed to the crowd's satisfaction, he was seated in a wash bowl and sup- plied with a pair of toothpicks in place of oars. Thereupon he was requested to row a race with himself. This exciting contest over, a small spot on the floor was called to his attention. See that spot, Frosh? asked the Master of Ceremonies. VVell, that resembles tempta- tion. Now get down and wrestle with it. Hartwell did not enter into the humor of this affair as a wise boy would have done. To him it was very serious. He felt humiliated, disgraced, and a black anger surged in him against the Sophomores. At last the ordeal was over. Of course, there's no hard feelings, Freshman i' said the leader, in a friendly fashion, as he and his fellows prepared to leave. Good nightj, and heaheld out his hand. Hartwell backed abruptly away, his hands behind him. Oh, very well, just as you please? and the crowd filed silently out. lt was Skinny Moore that broke the news to the other members of his class. About nine Ill III IIMII I42
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Page 148 text:
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THE CANTONIAN C. H. S I bet Hartwell's dad oHered to build a new dorm if they gave the kid a show. Shut up, you fellows, and wait, said another. Give the kid a chance. There's plenty of time for crabbing after we've lost? At one o'clock of the big day ten lithe limbed young fellows faced the starter. Hartwell felt a new feeling, that of responsibility, for was not Wells depending upon him to help up- hold her athletic honor. His brain was a confused jumble of advice given him by the coach, but it cleared on the crack of the pistol. His own place was simple. He resolved to stick to the heels of Thornton, the Stanton champion, like a leech. At the end of the first two miles the runners were strung out over a hundred or more yards, but all were fresh and running easily. Then came the range of hills where most slack- ened their pace, but not so with Thornton. He was becoming a bit impatient at the youngster who stuck so close to him, and. confident of his own wind, he thought that here would be a good chance to kill off one of the runners. He quickened his pace up the stony slope, but Hartwell did likewise and the two topped the summit well ahead of the others. The VVells Freshman realized well enough what his opponent's tactics were and he thought it possible he might succeed. Hartwell gritted his teeth and resolved that he would drop in his tracks before falling behind. Thornton kept up the same pace down that hill and up the next. He hardly considered that the youngster who followed him so closely was worth a secohd thought. VVe'll both be out before the finish, thought Hartwell, beginning to be conscious of a, slight yet increasing pain in his side, as he glanced at the seemingly tireless figure ahead of him. Thorton took the leap across Muddy Run without hesitation with Hartwell still in his tracks and they went splashing across the marsh, the filthy water, making blotches on their white running suits. The end of the marsh marked the half way mark and Hartwell wondered how he could ever stand the remaining six miles. Then hope leaped up again, for Thornton stumbled, which showed that he was also tiring. In this new confidence Hartwell forgot the dull pain in his overworked lungs. Then Thornton began to wonder. Who was this green runner who so stubbornly refused to be left behind. Then he began to regret the half-hearted way in which he had trained for this race. Confidence, born of three successive victories, had placed him where he believed defeat was impossible. His feet were heavy, and then he stumbled again. That four miles of wood road seemed an eternity to the two boys in whom the clean cut stride of the trained runner could no longer be seen, for both stumbled frequently, and their breath came in gasps from overworked lungs. At the end of the wood road with ten miles behind him, Hartwell made his first attempt to pass Thornton, but the latter glared at him with bloodshot eyes and quickened his pace, and so they went on as before. A few minutes later an outpost stationed to give warning of the runner's approach, dashed around a bend in the course, waving his hat. Coming! he yelled. . Good! shouted someone. 'fThat means a record for the coursef' Who's coming? Two fellows coming, one of them Thornton. Don't know the other. Must have set an awful pace, for they're running like a couple of cripplesf' Then as the boys gathered closely around the tape the two leaders appeared around the bend. Staggering like drunken men they gamely tried to sprint down the home stretch, but that sprint was a dismal failure. Hundreds of pairs of lungs were yelling at the two men, imploring them to reach the white tape first. If it isn't the Frosh that showed the yellow, cried one lad, but the last word was driven back down his throat by a vicious stroke of Red's hand. Hartwell was hardly conscious of the uproar, but he realized in a dim sort of way that the time for the last effort was at hand. He had enough nerve left to steer his footsteps in a straight course to the finish and he dropped over the tape a few feet ahead of Thornton. The coach caught the almost unconscious boy in his arms and carried him into the gym, thru a cheering crowd. The final score was 10 to 11 in Wells' favor. There were many sober faces among the VVells boys when they realized who was respon- sible for the victory and how they had treated him, and they stood about the gym door ready to welcome him when he came out. Hartwell, much refreshed by a shower bath, heard the crowd yelling for him and he dreaded to face them. He dressed and tried to slip out the back way, but his teammate caught him and thrust him out the door to face the awaiting crowd. The crowd formed into a squad, hoisted the protesting Freshman on their shoulders and began a triumphant march across the campus toward Blackwell Hall. Hartwell knew that he had wiped forever the yellow stain from the minds of his school- mates. CARI. XVILLIAMS. '18 lll Ill llill 144
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