CHAPTER XX.THE BITTERNESS OF DEFEAT.The Johns Hopkins lacrosse team claimed the championship of the United States, yet in a fast game at Oriole Park, Baltimore, it had been defeated by Harvard, the score being four to three. One thing that made the pill doubly bitter was the fact that the Hopkins men had been inclined to believe before the game began that they would whitewash the chaps from Cambridge. As if to add to the bitterness, Hopkins made her three goals before Harvard scored at all, which led her players and their admirers to believe the game was safely won.Then the tide turned. Hopkins made two goals in the first half and one early in the second half. This in spite of the fact that Harvard had kept the ball in the home team’s territory the greater part of the time and had repeatedly seemed on the point of scoring. The fine work of the Hopkins’ cover-point and the brilliant stops made by her goal keeper had checked Harvard time after time. At last the crimson scored and the back flow began.Fred Fillmore, cover-point for Hopkins and captain of the team, had already recognized the fact that Harvard was a dangerous proposition. On the Harvard team were several old Hopkins players who added greatly to the strength of the boys from Cambridge. Their poor success in the early part of the game didnot discourage them in the least, and they kept up the fast offense play of the team.Harvard’s greatest player was Herbert Onslaw, captain and first attack. Onslaw was swift, untiring, cool, and heady. He gave Fillmore no end of trouble, and the Hopkins captain gradually grew annoyed, for more than once he was tricked by Onslaw’s rapid and clever playing. He realized that the crimson leader was showing him up in a bad light, and he was anxious to get even by turning the tables.The Hopkins spectators were dismayed by Harvard’s success in scoring, but they did not foresee the impending danger that was plainly discerned by Fillmore. The Hopkins captain decided to give more of his attention to Onslaw.Shortly after Harvard secured her first goal she again obtained the ball, which, by good running and clever passing, was delivered to Onslaw, who rushed it into position to try for goal. The Hopkins goal tender spoiled the try and cuffed the ball away. A mix-up followed, and out of the scrambling players the ball was shot.Onslaw seemed waiting in the proper spot for it, but Fillmore had chosen to hug him close. Instantly the Harvard captain started, but Fillmore started at the same time. Onslaw dashed toward the Hopkins goal. Fillmore was at his side and tried a body check. Onslaw crouched and came under Fillmore’s hip. As a result, the Hopkins man was sent flying through the air and struck the ground heavily. He tried to get up, but fell over on his side and lay twisting on the ground.The whistle sounded, and it was found that Fillmore’ship had been badly hurt, so that he could not then bear his weight on that leg. Although he insisted that he would be all right in a few minutes, he did not recover and was obliged to drop out of the game.Lying on a blanket at one side of the field, Fillmore watched his team fighting desperately against the swift and determined Harvard men. His heart was filled with rage and bitterness, for, although his own attempt at body-checking an opponent had brought about his injury, he blamed Onslaw. When, a few minutes later, he saw Onslaw shoot the ball into the net he fairly writhed in mental pain, his injured hip being forgotten.Hopkins still had a lead of one goal, and the spectators believed this lead would be held, for the second half was well along. A bunch of rooters cheered and cheered to urge the local men at their best efforts; but a much smaller bunch of Harvard admirers made much more noise.Fillmore’s eyes glittered as he watched Onslaw’s swift and graceful movements.“I’ll settle with you some day!” muttered the injured captain of the local team.He was inclined to be revengeful. Being a fine athlete, a handsome fellow, and the admired idol of his team, Fillmore was conceited and spoiled. He was a splendid player, but regarded himself as even better than he actually was. It had always filled his heart with fiery bitterness when Hopkins had gone down in defeat before the swift Canadians, who never failed to show their superiority when Hopkins met the champions from the North. It had been his ambition to developat Hopkins a team that could hold its own with the Canadians, as well as defeat all opponents in the United States; but now he realized that unless the Baltimore lads could do better against the Cambridgeites, they would have very little show with the boys from beyond the northern border.It must not be supposed from this that Hopkins was weak in any respect; instead of that, the team was faster than ever before in all the years lacrosse had been played in Baltimore. But the former Hopkins men on the Harvard team had coached their fellows to meet and offset the plays of the Marylanders, and Harvard had progressed fully as fast as Hopkins.Therefore Fillmore was doomed to see the crimson players keep at it with such earnestness and skill that, three minutes before the time of the second half elapsed, another goal was made and the Southerners were tied.But no one seemed prepared for what followed. Hopkins took the ball on the face-off, carried it down to Harvard’s end, tried three times to score, lost the ball, saw it sail up the field, saw Onslaw take it in, and try to score, saw it driven back, secured, passed to Onslaw again, and then Onslaw sent it whizzing into the net!Almost immediately the whistle sounded, and the game was over.Fillmore fell back and covered his eyes with his hands, biting his lip to keep from cursing the fates. He was white as death, and a comrade who was near fancied he must be suffering fearful pain from his injured hip. It was, however, mental anguish whichdrove the blood from his face, bodily pain being entirely forgotten for the time.“Onslaw did it!” he whispered, with blue lips. “He knocked me out on purpose! I’ll get even with him if I live long enough! I’ll find a way!”It seemed that Fillmore’s longing for revenge was destined to go ungratified for an indefinite period. Harvard played no second game with Hopkins that season, and Onslaw was a senior who would leave college before the two teams could meet again.One warm spring evening Fillmore sauntered up McCulloh Street and paused at the steps of a students’ boarding house, on which a number of young fellows were sitting. He was hailed by several of them and paused to chat with his particular chum, Tom Hackett, who played centre on the lacrosse team.“Haven’t seen you for several days to more than chirp at you,” said Hackett. “Where have you been keeping yourself?”“Home.”“Must be plugging hard. You missed lots of fun last night. Party of us went down to the Monumental. Hot show there this week. Say, there are actually some pretty girls in the bunch. One is a peach.”“Oh, they give me lassitude!” retorted Fillmore. “They’re too cheap. Picked out of the slums. When you get to talking with ’em, and see just how coarse they are they make you sick. I’ve been seeing something more interesting. Speaking of dark-eyed girls, I’d like to show you one stopping over at my sister’s, where I board.”“What’s that?” cried Hackett. “Ah! so that’s whyyou’ve been under cover lately! Ah-ha! The cat is out!”“I suppose that has had something to do with it,” admitted the captain of the lacrosse team honestly. “This one is something entirely different from the kind you were talking about. Better drop over and see her. There’s another one there, a blonde; but she’s been ill, and she’s far from well now. The brunette and the blonde are great friends. The blonde is some distant relative of John Loder, my sister’s husband. I should say she ought to be a daisy when she’s well, for she’s pretty now, although she hasn’t any color. Got a bad cold last winter and had to go South. The brunette went with her. They’re staying here in Baltimore until the weather gets settled so that the blonde can go farther North without danger.”“Oh, you sly dog!” laughed Hackett. “Supposed you were plugging, and you’ve been lingering near two pretty girls. Thought it strange you broke away so suddenly after practice the last few days. I suppose you’ll find time to play Saturday?”“You know I will. I’m not as far gone as that, although the black eyes of Inza have rather upset me.”“Inza—that’s her name?”“Yes. Hack, she’s the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. She’s a real queen, and no mistake. She’s cultured, and she’s traveled a great deal in this country and foreign lands. She’s so sympathetic, too. You should see how she cares for Elsie.”“Elsie—she’s the invalid?”“Yes. She’s a sort of invalid, although she won’t acknowledge it, and she’s the bravest little creature inthe world. Inza told me that Elsie was very ill this winter, but she wouldn’t acknowledge it to any one. Just drop round to-morrow evening and I’ll present you to both girls, though I warn you not to get smashed on Inza. It won’t do any good, and it may make you uncomfortable.”“Oh, I see; you’re going to make a set for her yourself. Come, come, Fillmore! I didn’t think you’d go daft over any girl.”“Rot! I haven’t. It’s no use. I know better than that, old man. She’s good company, and I like her; but she is the kind to hold a fellow off and wither him with her eyes if he gets a bit fresh. I wouldn’t dare attempt to make love to her. I’d get a call quicker than lightning.”“And that makes her all the more interesting and attractive. Oh, yes it does! All the girls have been mashed on you, and you’ve turned up your aristocratic nose at them. Now you happen to find one who doesn’t think you are the luminary of the world, and the result is that you’re a goner. Well, well, well!”“Not very well, thank you,” returned Fillmore. “Don’t get a notion that you’re a Solomon. I’m playing my own game with the young lady of the dark eyes. She can’t fool me a great deal, Tom. It’s rather interesting sport. I’m taking care not to let myself get too far gone, for I know it’s hopeless. She’s engaged and soon to be married.”Hackett whistled.“Engaged, eh? But then you know more than one engagement has been smashed. You might cut the fellow out. Who is he?”“None other than Frank Merriwell, the former great Yale athlete.”Hackett whistled again.“That fellow, eh? I’ve met some chaps who seemed to think him the wizard of the world. Let me see, hasn’t he been touring lately with an athletic team and simply eating everything up that he came across?”“Yes, he’s been covering himself with glory in every department of sport. What do you think he’s doing now?”“Give it up.”“Organizing a lacrosse team, with the idea of going after the amateur championship of the United States. He wants a game with us. Of course we don’t have to play him, but I understand he expects to have Onslaw and several other Harvard players on his team.”A third time Hackett whistled.“What do you say to that? Do you want to play him, Fred?”“I don’t mind. His team will be easy for us, and it might give us a chance to rub it into those Harvard chaps some. Besides that, I’ve been thinking, if he really gets Onslaw, it might make an opening for me to even up with that duffer.”“Sure thing, old man! You’ve been pining for such a chance. But the success of Merriwell in other things seems to proclaim it possible that he will succeed at lacrosse.”“Don’t be silly, Hack! Do you fancy a picked-up team can beat us? I guess not! It takes teamwork to play the game, and a team, in order to be great, must work together a long time. We’re at our bestnow. If we were to go against Harvard again we’d whitewash ’em.”“I believe that.”“I know it. Oh, I don’t fear Merriwell’s team in the least. He’ll have some dubs on it. One fellow is Bart Hodge, who is engaged to Elsie Bellwood, the invalid. She hasn’t wanted him to know anything about her illness, and so it has been kept from him. She thought he would leave Frank, and she says Merriwell can’t get along without Hodge as a catcher in all baseball games, so she kept her illness quiet.”“It’s plain you’re decidedly in favor of playing Merriwell’s team.”“Rather.”“Well, I think what you say about it will go. Have you any positive reason to believe he wants a game with Hopkins?”“Why, yes; Inza—or, Miss Burrage—told me he wrote expressing such a desire. She is anxious for us to give him a game.”“And that has a great deal to do with your feelings,” laughed Hackett.“Oh, I wouldn’t mind beating Mr. Merriwell, just to take some of the confidence out of Miss Inza. It would please me to show him up before her.”“Go ahead. I think you can fix it.”“If I knew he’d have Onslaw I wouldn’t hesitate. Just as soon as I find out Onslaw will play with Merriwell’s team I’ll inform Miss Burrage that we’re simply waiting for a challenge or a proposition from Merriwell.”“That will be all right!” exclaimed Hackett. “Iwouldn’t mind getting against Mr. Merriwell at something and rubbing it into him. I’m tired of hearing him proclaimed the greatest all-round wonder the United States has produced.”“So am I. And Miss Burrage has an idea that he cannot be downed. She smiles scornfully when I hint that Merriwell has had luck and might meet with just as many defeats if his luck turned. Then Miss Bellwood is equally confident.”“Say, old man, I’m going to accept your invitation and come round to get a look at these girls.”“All right, but remember my warning about the black-eyed one. She’ll take your fancy, but that won’t do you any good.”“Oh, I don’t know!” said Hackett teasingly. “I think I see through your little game. You’re planning to get on the inside track and push Merriwell out. Better keep me away. I might steal a march on you, old man.”Fillmore flushed.“I’m not worrying about that,” he declared, as he rose to leave.“You’re hit hard,” chuckled Hackett, also rising. “I’ll walk down the street with you. This Inza must be a peach to upset level-headed Fred Fillmore after such a fashion.”
CHAPTER XX.THE BITTERNESS OF DEFEAT.The Johns Hopkins lacrosse team claimed the championship of the United States, yet in a fast game at Oriole Park, Baltimore, it had been defeated by Harvard, the score being four to three. One thing that made the pill doubly bitter was the fact that the Hopkins men had been inclined to believe before the game began that they would whitewash the chaps from Cambridge. As if to add to the bitterness, Hopkins made her three goals before Harvard scored at all, which led her players and their admirers to believe the game was safely won.Then the tide turned. Hopkins made two goals in the first half and one early in the second half. This in spite of the fact that Harvard had kept the ball in the home team’s territory the greater part of the time and had repeatedly seemed on the point of scoring. The fine work of the Hopkins’ cover-point and the brilliant stops made by her goal keeper had checked Harvard time after time. At last the crimson scored and the back flow began.Fred Fillmore, cover-point for Hopkins and captain of the team, had already recognized the fact that Harvard was a dangerous proposition. On the Harvard team were several old Hopkins players who added greatly to the strength of the boys from Cambridge. Their poor success in the early part of the game didnot discourage them in the least, and they kept up the fast offense play of the team.Harvard’s greatest player was Herbert Onslaw, captain and first attack. Onslaw was swift, untiring, cool, and heady. He gave Fillmore no end of trouble, and the Hopkins captain gradually grew annoyed, for more than once he was tricked by Onslaw’s rapid and clever playing. He realized that the crimson leader was showing him up in a bad light, and he was anxious to get even by turning the tables.The Hopkins spectators were dismayed by Harvard’s success in scoring, but they did not foresee the impending danger that was plainly discerned by Fillmore. The Hopkins captain decided to give more of his attention to Onslaw.Shortly after Harvard secured her first goal she again obtained the ball, which, by good running and clever passing, was delivered to Onslaw, who rushed it into position to try for goal. The Hopkins goal tender spoiled the try and cuffed the ball away. A mix-up followed, and out of the scrambling players the ball was shot.Onslaw seemed waiting in the proper spot for it, but Fillmore had chosen to hug him close. Instantly the Harvard captain started, but Fillmore started at the same time. Onslaw dashed toward the Hopkins goal. Fillmore was at his side and tried a body check. Onslaw crouched and came under Fillmore’s hip. As a result, the Hopkins man was sent flying through the air and struck the ground heavily. He tried to get up, but fell over on his side and lay twisting on the ground.The whistle sounded, and it was found that Fillmore’ship had been badly hurt, so that he could not then bear his weight on that leg. Although he insisted that he would be all right in a few minutes, he did not recover and was obliged to drop out of the game.Lying on a blanket at one side of the field, Fillmore watched his team fighting desperately against the swift and determined Harvard men. His heart was filled with rage and bitterness, for, although his own attempt at body-checking an opponent had brought about his injury, he blamed Onslaw. When, a few minutes later, he saw Onslaw shoot the ball into the net he fairly writhed in mental pain, his injured hip being forgotten.Hopkins still had a lead of one goal, and the spectators believed this lead would be held, for the second half was well along. A bunch of rooters cheered and cheered to urge the local men at their best efforts; but a much smaller bunch of Harvard admirers made much more noise.Fillmore’s eyes glittered as he watched Onslaw’s swift and graceful movements.“I’ll settle with you some day!” muttered the injured captain of the local team.He was inclined to be revengeful. Being a fine athlete, a handsome fellow, and the admired idol of his team, Fillmore was conceited and spoiled. He was a splendid player, but regarded himself as even better than he actually was. It had always filled his heart with fiery bitterness when Hopkins had gone down in defeat before the swift Canadians, who never failed to show their superiority when Hopkins met the champions from the North. It had been his ambition to developat Hopkins a team that could hold its own with the Canadians, as well as defeat all opponents in the United States; but now he realized that unless the Baltimore lads could do better against the Cambridgeites, they would have very little show with the boys from beyond the northern border.It must not be supposed from this that Hopkins was weak in any respect; instead of that, the team was faster than ever before in all the years lacrosse had been played in Baltimore. But the former Hopkins men on the Harvard team had coached their fellows to meet and offset the plays of the Marylanders, and Harvard had progressed fully as fast as Hopkins.Therefore Fillmore was doomed to see the crimson players keep at it with such earnestness and skill that, three minutes before the time of the second half elapsed, another goal was made and the Southerners were tied.But no one seemed prepared for what followed. Hopkins took the ball on the face-off, carried it down to Harvard’s end, tried three times to score, lost the ball, saw it sail up the field, saw Onslaw take it in, and try to score, saw it driven back, secured, passed to Onslaw again, and then Onslaw sent it whizzing into the net!Almost immediately the whistle sounded, and the game was over.Fillmore fell back and covered his eyes with his hands, biting his lip to keep from cursing the fates. He was white as death, and a comrade who was near fancied he must be suffering fearful pain from his injured hip. It was, however, mental anguish whichdrove the blood from his face, bodily pain being entirely forgotten for the time.“Onslaw did it!” he whispered, with blue lips. “He knocked me out on purpose! I’ll get even with him if I live long enough! I’ll find a way!”It seemed that Fillmore’s longing for revenge was destined to go ungratified for an indefinite period. Harvard played no second game with Hopkins that season, and Onslaw was a senior who would leave college before the two teams could meet again.One warm spring evening Fillmore sauntered up McCulloh Street and paused at the steps of a students’ boarding house, on which a number of young fellows were sitting. He was hailed by several of them and paused to chat with his particular chum, Tom Hackett, who played centre on the lacrosse team.“Haven’t seen you for several days to more than chirp at you,” said Hackett. “Where have you been keeping yourself?”“Home.”“Must be plugging hard. You missed lots of fun last night. Party of us went down to the Monumental. Hot show there this week. Say, there are actually some pretty girls in the bunch. One is a peach.”“Oh, they give me lassitude!” retorted Fillmore. “They’re too cheap. Picked out of the slums. When you get to talking with ’em, and see just how coarse they are they make you sick. I’ve been seeing something more interesting. Speaking of dark-eyed girls, I’d like to show you one stopping over at my sister’s, where I board.”“What’s that?” cried Hackett. “Ah! so that’s whyyou’ve been under cover lately! Ah-ha! The cat is out!”“I suppose that has had something to do with it,” admitted the captain of the lacrosse team honestly. “This one is something entirely different from the kind you were talking about. Better drop over and see her. There’s another one there, a blonde; but she’s been ill, and she’s far from well now. The brunette and the blonde are great friends. The blonde is some distant relative of John Loder, my sister’s husband. I should say she ought to be a daisy when she’s well, for she’s pretty now, although she hasn’t any color. Got a bad cold last winter and had to go South. The brunette went with her. They’re staying here in Baltimore until the weather gets settled so that the blonde can go farther North without danger.”“Oh, you sly dog!” laughed Hackett. “Supposed you were plugging, and you’ve been lingering near two pretty girls. Thought it strange you broke away so suddenly after practice the last few days. I suppose you’ll find time to play Saturday?”“You know I will. I’m not as far gone as that, although the black eyes of Inza have rather upset me.”“Inza—that’s her name?”“Yes. Hack, she’s the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. She’s a real queen, and no mistake. She’s cultured, and she’s traveled a great deal in this country and foreign lands. She’s so sympathetic, too. You should see how she cares for Elsie.”“Elsie—she’s the invalid?”“Yes. She’s a sort of invalid, although she won’t acknowledge it, and she’s the bravest little creature inthe world. Inza told me that Elsie was very ill this winter, but she wouldn’t acknowledge it to any one. Just drop round to-morrow evening and I’ll present you to both girls, though I warn you not to get smashed on Inza. It won’t do any good, and it may make you uncomfortable.”“Oh, I see; you’re going to make a set for her yourself. Come, come, Fillmore! I didn’t think you’d go daft over any girl.”“Rot! I haven’t. It’s no use. I know better than that, old man. She’s good company, and I like her; but she is the kind to hold a fellow off and wither him with her eyes if he gets a bit fresh. I wouldn’t dare attempt to make love to her. I’d get a call quicker than lightning.”“And that makes her all the more interesting and attractive. Oh, yes it does! All the girls have been mashed on you, and you’ve turned up your aristocratic nose at them. Now you happen to find one who doesn’t think you are the luminary of the world, and the result is that you’re a goner. Well, well, well!”“Not very well, thank you,” returned Fillmore. “Don’t get a notion that you’re a Solomon. I’m playing my own game with the young lady of the dark eyes. She can’t fool me a great deal, Tom. It’s rather interesting sport. I’m taking care not to let myself get too far gone, for I know it’s hopeless. She’s engaged and soon to be married.”Hackett whistled.“Engaged, eh? But then you know more than one engagement has been smashed. You might cut the fellow out. Who is he?”“None other than Frank Merriwell, the former great Yale athlete.”Hackett whistled again.“That fellow, eh? I’ve met some chaps who seemed to think him the wizard of the world. Let me see, hasn’t he been touring lately with an athletic team and simply eating everything up that he came across?”“Yes, he’s been covering himself with glory in every department of sport. What do you think he’s doing now?”“Give it up.”“Organizing a lacrosse team, with the idea of going after the amateur championship of the United States. He wants a game with us. Of course we don’t have to play him, but I understand he expects to have Onslaw and several other Harvard players on his team.”A third time Hackett whistled.“What do you say to that? Do you want to play him, Fred?”“I don’t mind. His team will be easy for us, and it might give us a chance to rub it into those Harvard chaps some. Besides that, I’ve been thinking, if he really gets Onslaw, it might make an opening for me to even up with that duffer.”“Sure thing, old man! You’ve been pining for such a chance. But the success of Merriwell in other things seems to proclaim it possible that he will succeed at lacrosse.”“Don’t be silly, Hack! Do you fancy a picked-up team can beat us? I guess not! It takes teamwork to play the game, and a team, in order to be great, must work together a long time. We’re at our bestnow. If we were to go against Harvard again we’d whitewash ’em.”“I believe that.”“I know it. Oh, I don’t fear Merriwell’s team in the least. He’ll have some dubs on it. One fellow is Bart Hodge, who is engaged to Elsie Bellwood, the invalid. She hasn’t wanted him to know anything about her illness, and so it has been kept from him. She thought he would leave Frank, and she says Merriwell can’t get along without Hodge as a catcher in all baseball games, so she kept her illness quiet.”“It’s plain you’re decidedly in favor of playing Merriwell’s team.”“Rather.”“Well, I think what you say about it will go. Have you any positive reason to believe he wants a game with Hopkins?”“Why, yes; Inza—or, Miss Burrage—told me he wrote expressing such a desire. She is anxious for us to give him a game.”“And that has a great deal to do with your feelings,” laughed Hackett.“Oh, I wouldn’t mind beating Mr. Merriwell, just to take some of the confidence out of Miss Inza. It would please me to show him up before her.”“Go ahead. I think you can fix it.”“If I knew he’d have Onslaw I wouldn’t hesitate. Just as soon as I find out Onslaw will play with Merriwell’s team I’ll inform Miss Burrage that we’re simply waiting for a challenge or a proposition from Merriwell.”“That will be all right!” exclaimed Hackett. “Iwouldn’t mind getting against Mr. Merriwell at something and rubbing it into him. I’m tired of hearing him proclaimed the greatest all-round wonder the United States has produced.”“So am I. And Miss Burrage has an idea that he cannot be downed. She smiles scornfully when I hint that Merriwell has had luck and might meet with just as many defeats if his luck turned. Then Miss Bellwood is equally confident.”“Say, old man, I’m going to accept your invitation and come round to get a look at these girls.”“All right, but remember my warning about the black-eyed one. She’ll take your fancy, but that won’t do you any good.”“Oh, I don’t know!” said Hackett teasingly. “I think I see through your little game. You’re planning to get on the inside track and push Merriwell out. Better keep me away. I might steal a march on you, old man.”Fillmore flushed.“I’m not worrying about that,” he declared, as he rose to leave.“You’re hit hard,” chuckled Hackett, also rising. “I’ll walk down the street with you. This Inza must be a peach to upset level-headed Fred Fillmore after such a fashion.”
The Johns Hopkins lacrosse team claimed the championship of the United States, yet in a fast game at Oriole Park, Baltimore, it had been defeated by Harvard, the score being four to three. One thing that made the pill doubly bitter was the fact that the Hopkins men had been inclined to believe before the game began that they would whitewash the chaps from Cambridge. As if to add to the bitterness, Hopkins made her three goals before Harvard scored at all, which led her players and their admirers to believe the game was safely won.
Then the tide turned. Hopkins made two goals in the first half and one early in the second half. This in spite of the fact that Harvard had kept the ball in the home team’s territory the greater part of the time and had repeatedly seemed on the point of scoring. The fine work of the Hopkins’ cover-point and the brilliant stops made by her goal keeper had checked Harvard time after time. At last the crimson scored and the back flow began.
Fred Fillmore, cover-point for Hopkins and captain of the team, had already recognized the fact that Harvard was a dangerous proposition. On the Harvard team were several old Hopkins players who added greatly to the strength of the boys from Cambridge. Their poor success in the early part of the game didnot discourage them in the least, and they kept up the fast offense play of the team.
Harvard’s greatest player was Herbert Onslaw, captain and first attack. Onslaw was swift, untiring, cool, and heady. He gave Fillmore no end of trouble, and the Hopkins captain gradually grew annoyed, for more than once he was tricked by Onslaw’s rapid and clever playing. He realized that the crimson leader was showing him up in a bad light, and he was anxious to get even by turning the tables.
The Hopkins spectators were dismayed by Harvard’s success in scoring, but they did not foresee the impending danger that was plainly discerned by Fillmore. The Hopkins captain decided to give more of his attention to Onslaw.
Shortly after Harvard secured her first goal she again obtained the ball, which, by good running and clever passing, was delivered to Onslaw, who rushed it into position to try for goal. The Hopkins goal tender spoiled the try and cuffed the ball away. A mix-up followed, and out of the scrambling players the ball was shot.
Onslaw seemed waiting in the proper spot for it, but Fillmore had chosen to hug him close. Instantly the Harvard captain started, but Fillmore started at the same time. Onslaw dashed toward the Hopkins goal. Fillmore was at his side and tried a body check. Onslaw crouched and came under Fillmore’s hip. As a result, the Hopkins man was sent flying through the air and struck the ground heavily. He tried to get up, but fell over on his side and lay twisting on the ground.
The whistle sounded, and it was found that Fillmore’ship had been badly hurt, so that he could not then bear his weight on that leg. Although he insisted that he would be all right in a few minutes, he did not recover and was obliged to drop out of the game.
Lying on a blanket at one side of the field, Fillmore watched his team fighting desperately against the swift and determined Harvard men. His heart was filled with rage and bitterness, for, although his own attempt at body-checking an opponent had brought about his injury, he blamed Onslaw. When, a few minutes later, he saw Onslaw shoot the ball into the net he fairly writhed in mental pain, his injured hip being forgotten.
Hopkins still had a lead of one goal, and the spectators believed this lead would be held, for the second half was well along. A bunch of rooters cheered and cheered to urge the local men at their best efforts; but a much smaller bunch of Harvard admirers made much more noise.
Fillmore’s eyes glittered as he watched Onslaw’s swift and graceful movements.
“I’ll settle with you some day!” muttered the injured captain of the local team.
He was inclined to be revengeful. Being a fine athlete, a handsome fellow, and the admired idol of his team, Fillmore was conceited and spoiled. He was a splendid player, but regarded himself as even better than he actually was. It had always filled his heart with fiery bitterness when Hopkins had gone down in defeat before the swift Canadians, who never failed to show their superiority when Hopkins met the champions from the North. It had been his ambition to developat Hopkins a team that could hold its own with the Canadians, as well as defeat all opponents in the United States; but now he realized that unless the Baltimore lads could do better against the Cambridgeites, they would have very little show with the boys from beyond the northern border.
It must not be supposed from this that Hopkins was weak in any respect; instead of that, the team was faster than ever before in all the years lacrosse had been played in Baltimore. But the former Hopkins men on the Harvard team had coached their fellows to meet and offset the plays of the Marylanders, and Harvard had progressed fully as fast as Hopkins.
Therefore Fillmore was doomed to see the crimson players keep at it with such earnestness and skill that, three minutes before the time of the second half elapsed, another goal was made and the Southerners were tied.
But no one seemed prepared for what followed. Hopkins took the ball on the face-off, carried it down to Harvard’s end, tried three times to score, lost the ball, saw it sail up the field, saw Onslaw take it in, and try to score, saw it driven back, secured, passed to Onslaw again, and then Onslaw sent it whizzing into the net!
Almost immediately the whistle sounded, and the game was over.
Fillmore fell back and covered his eyes with his hands, biting his lip to keep from cursing the fates. He was white as death, and a comrade who was near fancied he must be suffering fearful pain from his injured hip. It was, however, mental anguish whichdrove the blood from his face, bodily pain being entirely forgotten for the time.
“Onslaw did it!” he whispered, with blue lips. “He knocked me out on purpose! I’ll get even with him if I live long enough! I’ll find a way!”
It seemed that Fillmore’s longing for revenge was destined to go ungratified for an indefinite period. Harvard played no second game with Hopkins that season, and Onslaw was a senior who would leave college before the two teams could meet again.
One warm spring evening Fillmore sauntered up McCulloh Street and paused at the steps of a students’ boarding house, on which a number of young fellows were sitting. He was hailed by several of them and paused to chat with his particular chum, Tom Hackett, who played centre on the lacrosse team.
“Haven’t seen you for several days to more than chirp at you,” said Hackett. “Where have you been keeping yourself?”
“Home.”
“Must be plugging hard. You missed lots of fun last night. Party of us went down to the Monumental. Hot show there this week. Say, there are actually some pretty girls in the bunch. One is a peach.”
“Oh, they give me lassitude!” retorted Fillmore. “They’re too cheap. Picked out of the slums. When you get to talking with ’em, and see just how coarse they are they make you sick. I’ve been seeing something more interesting. Speaking of dark-eyed girls, I’d like to show you one stopping over at my sister’s, where I board.”
“What’s that?” cried Hackett. “Ah! so that’s whyyou’ve been under cover lately! Ah-ha! The cat is out!”
“I suppose that has had something to do with it,” admitted the captain of the lacrosse team honestly. “This one is something entirely different from the kind you were talking about. Better drop over and see her. There’s another one there, a blonde; but she’s been ill, and she’s far from well now. The brunette and the blonde are great friends. The blonde is some distant relative of John Loder, my sister’s husband. I should say she ought to be a daisy when she’s well, for she’s pretty now, although she hasn’t any color. Got a bad cold last winter and had to go South. The brunette went with her. They’re staying here in Baltimore until the weather gets settled so that the blonde can go farther North without danger.”
“Oh, you sly dog!” laughed Hackett. “Supposed you were plugging, and you’ve been lingering near two pretty girls. Thought it strange you broke away so suddenly after practice the last few days. I suppose you’ll find time to play Saturday?”
“You know I will. I’m not as far gone as that, although the black eyes of Inza have rather upset me.”
“Inza—that’s her name?”
“Yes. Hack, she’s the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. She’s a real queen, and no mistake. She’s cultured, and she’s traveled a great deal in this country and foreign lands. She’s so sympathetic, too. You should see how she cares for Elsie.”
“Elsie—she’s the invalid?”
“Yes. She’s a sort of invalid, although she won’t acknowledge it, and she’s the bravest little creature inthe world. Inza told me that Elsie was very ill this winter, but she wouldn’t acknowledge it to any one. Just drop round to-morrow evening and I’ll present you to both girls, though I warn you not to get smashed on Inza. It won’t do any good, and it may make you uncomfortable.”
“Oh, I see; you’re going to make a set for her yourself. Come, come, Fillmore! I didn’t think you’d go daft over any girl.”
“Rot! I haven’t. It’s no use. I know better than that, old man. She’s good company, and I like her; but she is the kind to hold a fellow off and wither him with her eyes if he gets a bit fresh. I wouldn’t dare attempt to make love to her. I’d get a call quicker than lightning.”
“And that makes her all the more interesting and attractive. Oh, yes it does! All the girls have been mashed on you, and you’ve turned up your aristocratic nose at them. Now you happen to find one who doesn’t think you are the luminary of the world, and the result is that you’re a goner. Well, well, well!”
“Not very well, thank you,” returned Fillmore. “Don’t get a notion that you’re a Solomon. I’m playing my own game with the young lady of the dark eyes. She can’t fool me a great deal, Tom. It’s rather interesting sport. I’m taking care not to let myself get too far gone, for I know it’s hopeless. She’s engaged and soon to be married.”
Hackett whistled.
“Engaged, eh? But then you know more than one engagement has been smashed. You might cut the fellow out. Who is he?”
“None other than Frank Merriwell, the former great Yale athlete.”
Hackett whistled again.
“That fellow, eh? I’ve met some chaps who seemed to think him the wizard of the world. Let me see, hasn’t he been touring lately with an athletic team and simply eating everything up that he came across?”
“Yes, he’s been covering himself with glory in every department of sport. What do you think he’s doing now?”
“Give it up.”
“Organizing a lacrosse team, with the idea of going after the amateur championship of the United States. He wants a game with us. Of course we don’t have to play him, but I understand he expects to have Onslaw and several other Harvard players on his team.”
A third time Hackett whistled.
“What do you say to that? Do you want to play him, Fred?”
“I don’t mind. His team will be easy for us, and it might give us a chance to rub it into those Harvard chaps some. Besides that, I’ve been thinking, if he really gets Onslaw, it might make an opening for me to even up with that duffer.”
“Sure thing, old man! You’ve been pining for such a chance. But the success of Merriwell in other things seems to proclaim it possible that he will succeed at lacrosse.”
“Don’t be silly, Hack! Do you fancy a picked-up team can beat us? I guess not! It takes teamwork to play the game, and a team, in order to be great, must work together a long time. We’re at our bestnow. If we were to go against Harvard again we’d whitewash ’em.”
“I believe that.”
“I know it. Oh, I don’t fear Merriwell’s team in the least. He’ll have some dubs on it. One fellow is Bart Hodge, who is engaged to Elsie Bellwood, the invalid. She hasn’t wanted him to know anything about her illness, and so it has been kept from him. She thought he would leave Frank, and she says Merriwell can’t get along without Hodge as a catcher in all baseball games, so she kept her illness quiet.”
“It’s plain you’re decidedly in favor of playing Merriwell’s team.”
“Rather.”
“Well, I think what you say about it will go. Have you any positive reason to believe he wants a game with Hopkins?”
“Why, yes; Inza—or, Miss Burrage—told me he wrote expressing such a desire. She is anxious for us to give him a game.”
“And that has a great deal to do with your feelings,” laughed Hackett.
“Oh, I wouldn’t mind beating Mr. Merriwell, just to take some of the confidence out of Miss Inza. It would please me to show him up before her.”
“Go ahead. I think you can fix it.”
“If I knew he’d have Onslaw I wouldn’t hesitate. Just as soon as I find out Onslaw will play with Merriwell’s team I’ll inform Miss Burrage that we’re simply waiting for a challenge or a proposition from Merriwell.”
“That will be all right!” exclaimed Hackett. “Iwouldn’t mind getting against Mr. Merriwell at something and rubbing it into him. I’m tired of hearing him proclaimed the greatest all-round wonder the United States has produced.”
“So am I. And Miss Burrage has an idea that he cannot be downed. She smiles scornfully when I hint that Merriwell has had luck and might meet with just as many defeats if his luck turned. Then Miss Bellwood is equally confident.”
“Say, old man, I’m going to accept your invitation and come round to get a look at these girls.”
“All right, but remember my warning about the black-eyed one. She’ll take your fancy, but that won’t do you any good.”
“Oh, I don’t know!” said Hackett teasingly. “I think I see through your little game. You’re planning to get on the inside track and push Merriwell out. Better keep me away. I might steal a march on you, old man.”
Fillmore flushed.
“I’m not worrying about that,” he declared, as he rose to leave.
“You’re hit hard,” chuckled Hackett, also rising. “I’ll walk down the street with you. This Inza must be a peach to upset level-headed Fred Fillmore after such a fashion.”