"Now," concluded Butch, "Hicksmaywin a B in track work, if he gets afirst place in the high-jump, and if so, O.K., but if he does not—"
"You mean—" Monty Merriweather—understood, "if he fails, then theAthletic Association ought to—"
"Present him with a B!" said Butch, earnestly, "as a deserved reward forhis faithful loyalty and service to old Bannister's athletic teams. Don'tlet him graduate without gaining his letter, and making his Dad realize apart of his ambition—a two-thirds vote of the Athletic Association canaward him his letter, and when all the students know the truth about hisridiculous fiasco on Bannister Field, and realize the serious purposebeneath them all, they—"
"We'll give him his B!" shouted Beef, loudly, "If he fails in track worknext spring, we'll vote him his letter, anyway!"
Out in the corridor, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., returning from SkeetWigglesworth's room and entering his own cozy quarters, could not helphearing the conversation, as the doors of both his den and the room acrossthe corridor were open. A great love for his comrades came to his impulsiveheart, and a mist before his eyes, as he heard how they wanted to vote himhis B in case he failed to win it in track work; he thrilled at Butch'sspeech, but—
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"Fellows," he startled them by appearing in the doorway, "I—I thank youfrom the bottom of my heart. I couldn't help hearing, you know—Idoappreciate your generous thoughts, but—I can't and won't accept my Bunless I win it according to the rule of the Athletic Association."
A silence, and then Butch Brewster, gripping his comrade's handunderstandingly, held out to him the two letters.
"Forgive me, old man," he breathed, "for reading them aloud, but I wantedthe fellows to know, to appreciate you! And say, Hicks, what does your Dadmean by saying that you are the 'Class Kid' of Yale, '96, and that thosesons of old Eli want you to win your letter? And what does he mean bysaying that you may get in abig game—maywinit—that you havethe goods in football, but lack the confidence to announce it to CoachCorridan? Also that old Bannister needs just the peculiar brand youpossess?"
T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., his sunny, Cheshire cat grin illuminating hischerubic countenance, beamed on the eleven and Coach Corridan a moment.
"Oh, that's amystery," he said, cheerfully. "If Idogain the courageand confidence, I'll explain, but unless I do—it remains a—mystery!"
CHAPTER VIII
COACH CORRIDAN SURPRISES THE ELEVEN
"ALL MEMBERS OF THE FIRST ELEVEN AREURGENTLY REQUESTED TO BE PRESENT INTHE ROOM OF T. HAVILAND HICKS, JR.—AT EIGHT P. M. TONIGHT;YOU WILL BE DETAINED ONLY A FEW MINUTES,BUT LET EVERY PLAYER COME, AS A MATTER OFEXTREME IMPORTANCE WILL BE PRESENTED.PATRICK HENRY COERIDAN, HEAD-COACH."
"Now, what do you suppose is up Coach Corridan's sleeve?" demanded T.Haviland Hicks, Jr., cheerfully. "Has Ballard learned our signals, or someBannister student sold them to a rival team, as per the usual footballstory? Though the notice doth not herald it, I am to be present, for myroom is to be used, and the Coach gave me a special invitation to cut theGordian knot with my keen intellect."
The sunny Hicks, with Butch, Beef, Tug, and Monty, had just come from"Delmonico's Annex," the college dining-hall, after supper; they had pausedbefore the Bulletin Board at the Gymnasium entrance, where all collegenotices were posted, and the Coach's urgent request had caught their gaze.The announcement had caused quite a stir on the campus. The Bannisteryouths stood in excited groups talking of it, and in the dormitories itsuperseded all thought of study; however, there seemed little chance thatany but the "'Varsity" and T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., who was always consultedin football problems, would know what took place in this meeting.
"There is only one way to find out, Hicks," responded big Butch Brewster,his arm across his blithesome comrade's shoulders, "and that is, attendthe meeting! You can wager that every member of the eleven will be there,except Thor—he regards it as 'foolishness,' I suppose, and he won't sparethat precious time from his studies."
At five minutes past eight, Butch's prophecy was fulfilled, for everymember of the elevenwasin Hicks' cozy room, except Thor, the ProdigiousProdigy, whose presence would have caused a mild sensation. It was anextremely quiet and orderly gathering, for Coach Corridan, who had thefloor, was so grave that he impressed the would-be sky-larking youths.Having their undivided attention, he proceeded to make a speech that, toall intents and purposes, had much the same effect on the team and Hicks asa Zeppelin's bombs on London:
"Boys," he spoke, in forceful sentences, driving straight to the point,"I am going to take the eleven, and Hicks, whose suggestions are alwaystimely, into my confidence, in the hope that we, working together, maycarry out an idea of mine for the awakening of Thor to a realizationof things! I ask you not to let what I shall tell you be known to thestudent-body, but you fellows play with Thor every day, and you willunderstand the crisis, and appreciatewhyit is done, if I decide itnecessary to drop John Thorwald from the football squad."
"Drop Thor from the squad!" gasped T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., staggered, andthen pandemonium broke loose among the players. Drop the Prodigious Prodigyfrom the squad, why, whatcouldthe Slave-Driver be thinking of? Why,look how Thorwald, on the scrubs, tore through the heavy 'Varsity line forbig gains. He was simply unstoppable; and yet, almost on the eve of the biggame that old Bannister depended on Thor to win by his splendid prowess, hemight be dropped from the squad! Excited exclamations sounded from CaptainButch Brewster, Beef, and the others of the Gold and Green eleven:
"Why not give the big games to Ballard and Ham, Coach?"
"Say, shoot Theophilus Opperdyke in at full-back!"
"Good-by, championship! No hopes now, fellows!"
"If Thor doesn't play in the Big Games—good night!"
A greater sensation could not have been caused even had kindly white-hairedPrexy announced his intention of challenging Jess Willard for the World'sHeavy-Weight Championship. Dropping that human battering-ram, Thor, fromthe football, squad was something utterly undreamed-of. Coach Corridanraised his hand for silence, and the youths subsided.
"Hear me carefully, boys," he urged, "I know that old Bannister has come toregard John Thorwald as invincible, to use his vast bulk as a foundationon which to build hopes of the Championship, which is a bad policy, for noteam can be aone-manteam and win. I realize that as a football player,Thor hasn't an equal in the State today, and if he had the right spirit, hewould have few in the country. It would be ridiculous to decry his prowess,for he is a physical phenomenon. But you remember T. Haviland Hicks, Jr.'s,splendid defense of Thor, a week or so ago? Hicks gave you a full and clearexplanation of the big fellow, and showed youwhyhe does not know whatcollege spirit is, what loyalty and love for one's Alma Mater mean! Hismasterly speech changed your attitude toward Thor, and even before hedecided to play football, for Mr. Hicks' sake, you admired him, becauseof his indomitable purpose, his promise to his dying mother. Now I amtelling you why he may be dropped from the squad, because I want youfellows to give Thor a square deal, to remember what Hicks told you of him,and to keep on striving to awaken him to the true meaning of campus years,to make him realize that college life is more than a mere buying ofknowledge. I want to keep him on the squad, if humanly possible, and Ishall outline my plot later.
"Tomorrow we play Latham College. It is the last game before the big gamesfor The State Intercollegiate Football Championship. Saturday after this,we play Hamilton, and the following week Ballard, the Champions! The elevenI send in against those teams must be a solid unit,onein spirit andpurpose—every member of the Gold and Green team must be welded with histeam-mates, and they must forget everything but that their Alma Mater mustwin the Championship! With no thought of self-glory, no other purpose inplaying than a love for old Bannister, every fellow must go into thosegames to fight for his Alma Mater! Now, as for Thor, I need not tell youthat he is not in sympathy with our ambition; he simply does not understandcampus tradition and spirit. He is as yet not possessed of an Alma Mater;he plays football only because of gratitude to Mr. Thomas Haviland Hicks,Sr., and he hates to lose the time from his studies for the practice.The football squad knows that his presence is a veritable wet blanket onenthusiasm and the team's fighting spirit."
It was true. That intangible shadow of something wrong, brooding overtraining-table, shower-room, and Bannister Field, that self-evidenttruth which almost every collegian had for days confessed to himself yethesitated to voice, had been given definite form by Coach Corridan talkingto the eleven. The good that Thorwald might do for the team by his superbprowess and massive bulk was more than offset and nullified by hisattitude.
To the blond Colossus, daily practice was unutterable mental torture. Hismind was on his studies, to which his bulldog purpose shackled him; hebegrudged the time spent on Bannister Field; he was stolid, silent, aloof.He scarcely ever spoke, except when addressed. He reported for practice atthe last second, went through the scrimmage like a great, dumb, driven ox,doing as he was ordered; and when the squad was dismissed he hurried to hisroom. He was among the squad, but not of them; he neither understood norcared about their love for old Bannister, their vast desire to win fortheir Alma Mater; he played football because he was grateful to Hicks, Sr.,for helping him to get started toward his goal, but as Coach Corridan nowtold the 'Varsity, he killed the squad's enthusiasm,
"All of this cannot fail to damage theesprit de corps, themorale, ofthe eleven," declared Coach Corridan, having outlined Thor's attitude. "Iknow that every member of the squad, if Thor played the game because ofcollege spirit, for love of old Bannister, would rejoice at his prowess.But as it is they are justly resentful that he is not in the spirit of thegame. What we may gain by his playing, we lose because the others cannot dotheir best with his example to hurt their fighting spirit. I do not want,nor will I have on my eleven, any player who plays for other reasons than alove for his Alma Mater, be he a Hogan, Brickley, Thorpe, or Mahan. I havewaited, hoping Thorwald would be awakened, as Hicks explained, but now Imust act. Tomorrow's game with Latham must see Thor awakened, or I must,for the sake of the eleven, drop him from the squad for the rest of theseason.
"Yet I beg of you, in case the plan I shall propose fails, remember Hicks'appeal! Do not condemn or ostracize John Thorwald in any degree. He hasthree more seasons of football, so let us keep on trying to make himunderstand campus life, college tradition. Be his friends, help him all youcan, and sooner or later he will awaken. Something may suddenly shock himto a true understanding of what old Bannister means to a fellow. Or perhapsthe awakening will be slow, but it must come. And Bannister can win withoutThor, don't forget that! We'll make one final effort to awaken Thor, andif it fails, just forget him, boys, so far as football goes, and watch theGold and Green win that championship."
"What is your scheme, Coach?" questioned Captain Butch Brewster, his honestcountenance showing how heavily the responsibility of team-leader weighedupon him. "You are right; as Thor is now, he is a handicap to the eleven,but—"
"My idea is this," explained the Slave-Driver earnestly. "Select somestudent to go to Thorwald and try to show him that unless he gets into thegame and plays for old Bannister, he will be dropped from the squad. Ifpossible, let the fellow make him understand that, in his case, it will bea shame and a dishonor. Now, Butch, you and Hicks can probably approachThor, or perhaps you know of someone who—"
T. Haviland Hicks, Jr.'s, cherubic countenance showed the light of dawninginspiration, and Coach Corridan paused, as the sunny youth exhibited adesire to say something, with him not by any means a phenomenalhappening; given the floor, the blithesome youth burst forth excitedly:"Theophilus—Theophilus Opperdyke is the one! He has more influence overThor than any other student, and the big fellow likes the little boner.Thor will at least listen to Theophilus, which Is more than any of us cangain from him."
After the meeting had adjourned, and the last inspection had been made inthe other dorms, the Seniors being exempt, several members of the Gold andGreen team—Captain Butch, Beef, Pudge, Monty, Roddy, and Bunch, togetherwith little Theophilus Opperdyke, dragged from his studies—foregathered inthe cozy room of T. Haviland Hicks, Jr.; those who had heard thecoach's talk were still stunned at the ban likely to be placed on theBrobdingnagian Thor. On the campus outside Creighton Hall, a horde ofBannister youths, incited by Tug Cardiff, who gave them no reason for hisact, were making a strenuous effort to awaken the Prodigious Prodigy,evidently depending on noise to achieve that end, for a vast sound-waverolled up to Hicks' windows—"Rah! Rah! Rah! Thor! Thor! Thor!He's—all—right!"
"Listen!" exploded T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., indignantly. "You and I,Theophilus, would give a Rajah's ransom just to hear the fellows whoop itup for us like that, and it has no more effect on that sodden hulk of aThor than bombarding an English super-dreadnaught with Roman candles!Howsomever, Coach Corridan exploded a shrapnel bomb on old Bannister'seleven tonight."
Then Hicks carefully outlined to the dazed little boner the substance ofthe coach's talk to the team, and Theophilus was alarmed when he thought ofThor's being dropped from the squad. When Captain Butch had outlined theSlave-Driver's plot for striving to awaken the Colossus to a realization ofwhat a disgrace it would be to be sent from the gridiron, though he did notannounce that the Human Encyclopedia had been elected to carry out CoachCorridan's last-hope idea, Theophilus sat on the edge of the chair,blinking owlishly at them over his big-rimmed spectacles.
"After all, fellows," quavered Theophilus nervously, "Coach Corridan, if hedrops Thor from the squad, won't create such a riot on the campus as youmight expect. You see, the students, even as they built and planned onThor, gradually came to know that there is vastly more to be consideredthan physical power. That great bulk actually acts as a drag on the eleven,because Thor isn't in sympathy with things! Still, if he could only bearoused, awakened, wouldn't the team play football, with him striving forold Bannister, and not because he thinks he ought to play, for Hicks' dad?Oh, Idohope the Coach's plan succeeds, and he awakens tomorrow; Iknow the boys won't condemn him, if he doesn't, but—I—I want him tounderstand!"
"It's his last chance this season," reflected T. Haviland Hicks, Jr.,enshrouded in a penumbra of gloom. "I made a big boast that I would roundup a smashing full-back. I returned to Bannister with the ProdigiousProdigy. I made a big mystery of him, and then—biff!—Thor quit football.Then I explained the mystery, and got the fellows to admire him, and whenThor decided to play the game I thought 'All O.K.; I'll just wait untilhe scatters Hamilton and Ballard over Bannister Field, then I'll swaggerbefore Butch and say, "Oh, I told you just to leave it to Hicks!"' But nowThor has spilled the beans again."
"I—I hope that the one you have chosen to appeal to Thor—" spokeTheophilus timorously, "will succeed, for—Oh, Idon'twant him to bedropped from the squad, and—"
Big Butch Brewster, who had been gazing at little Theophilus Opperdyke witha basilisk glare that perturbed the bewildered Human Encyclopedia, suddenlystrode across the room and placed his hand on the grind's thin shoulders.
"Theophilus, old man, it's up to you!" he said earnestly. "Thor has astrong regard for you; in fact, outside of his good-natured tolerancefor Hicks, you alone have his friendship. Now I want you to go to him,Theophilus, and make a last appeal to Thor. Try to awaken him, to make himunderstand his peril of being dropped from the squad, unless he playsthe game for his college! It's for old Bannister, old man, for your AlmaMater—"
"Go to it, Theophilus!" urged Beef McNaughton. "Coach Corridan said Thormight be suddenly awakened by a shock, but no electric battery can shockthat Colossus, and, besides, miracles don't happen nowadays. Yes, it's upto you, old man."
For a moment little Theophilus, his big-rimmed spectacles falling offas fast as he replaced them, and his puny frame tense with excitement,hesitated. Sitting on the extreme edge of the chair, he surveyed hiscomrades solemnly and was convinced that they were in earnest. Then, "I—Iwilltry, sir!" exclaimed Theophilus, who wouldneverforget hisFreshman training. "I'msureHicks, or somebody, could do It better thanI; but—I'll try!"
CHAPTER IX
THEOPHILUS' MISSIONARY WORK
"College ties can ne'er be broken—Loyal will remain each heart;Though the last farewell be spoken—And from Bannister we part!
"Bannister, Bannister, hail, all hail!Echoes softly from each heart;We'll be ever loyal to thee—Till we from life shall part!"
Theophilus Opperdyke, the timorous, intensely studious Human Encyclopedia,stood at the window of John Thorwald's study room. That behemoth, desiringquiet, had moved his study-table and chair to a vacant room across thesecond-floor corridor of Creighton, the Freshman dormitory, when theBannister youths cheered him, and he was still there, so that Theophilus,on his mission, had finally located him by his low rumblings, as helaboriously read out his Latin. The little Senior was gazing across thebrightly lighted Quadrangle. He could see into the rooms of the otherclass dormitories, where the students studied, skylarked, rough-housed,or conversed on innumerable topics; from a room in Nordyke, the abode ofcare-free Juniors, a splendidly blended sextette sang songs of theirAlma Mater, and their rich voices drifted across the Quad. to Thor andTheophilus:
"Though thy halls we leave foreverSadly from the campus turn;Yet our love shall fail thee neverFor old Bannister we'll yearn!Bannister, Bannister, hail, all hail!"
Theophilus turned from the window, and looked despairingly at that youngColossus, Thor. The behemoth Norwegian, oblivious to everything except thegeometry problem now causing him to sweat, rested his massive head on hispalms, elbows on the study-table, and was lost in the intricate labyrinthof "Let the line ABC equal the line BVD." The frail chair creaked under hisponderous bulk. On the table lay an unopened letter that had come in thenight's mail, for, tackling one problem, the bulldog Hercules never let gohis grip until he solved it, and nothing else, not even Theophilus, couldsecure his attention. Hence the Human Encyclopedia, trembling at theterrific importance of the mission entrusted to him, waited, thrilled bythe Juniors' songs, which failed to penetrate Thor's mind.
"Oh, whatcanI do?" breathed Theophilus, sitting down nervously on theedge of a chair and peering owlishly over his big-rimmed spectacles at thestolid John Thorwald. "I am sure that, in time, I can help Thor to—to knowcampus life better; but—tomorrowis his last chance! He will be droppedfrom the squad, unless—"
As Thor at last leaned back and gazed at his little comrade, just then, tothe tune of "My Old Kentucky Home," an augmented chorus drifted across theQuadrangle:
"And we'll sing one songFor the college that we love—For our dear old Bannister—good-by"
To the Bannister students there was something tremendously queer in thefriendship of Theophilus and Thor. That the huge Freshman, of all thecollegians, should have chosen the timorous little boner was most puzzling.Yet, to T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., a keen reader of human nature, it wasclear; Thorwald thought of nothing but study, Theophilus was a grind,though he possessed intense college spirit, hence Thor was naturally drawnto the little Senior by the mutual bond of their interest in books, andTheophilus, with his hero-worshiping soul, intensely admired the splendidpurpose of John Thorwald, toiling to gain knowledge, because of the promiseof his dying mother. The grind, who thought that next to T. Haviland Hicks,Jr., Thor was the "greatest ever," as Hicks phrased it, had been, doingwhat that care-free collegian termed "missionary work," with the stolid,unimaginative Prodigious Prodigy for some weeks. Thrilled with the thoughtthat he worked for his Alma Mater, he quietly strove to make Thorwaldglimpse the true meaning and purpose of college life and its broadness ofdevelopment. The loyal Theophilus lost no opportunity of impressing hisbehemoth friend with the sacred traditions of the campus, or of explainingwhy Thor was wrong in characterizing all else than study as foolishness andwaste of time.
"Thor," began Theophilus timidly yet determinedly, for he was serving oldBannister now, "old man, do you feel that you are giving the fellows atBannister a square deal?"
John Thorwald, slowly tearing open the letter that had come that night,and had lain, unnoticed, on the study-table while he wrestled with hisgeometry, turned suddenly. The Human Encyclopedia's vast earnestness andthe strange query he had fired at Thor, surprised even that stolid mammoth.
"Why, what do you mean, Theophilus?" spoke Thor slowly. "A square deal?Why, I owe them nothing! I sacrifice my time for them, leaving my studiesto go out and waste precious time foolishly on football. Why—"
"I mean this," Theophilus kept doggedly on, his earnest desire to stir Thorconquering his natural timidity. "You were brought to old Bannister byHicks, who made a great mystery of you, so we knew nothing of you; but thefellows all thought you were willing to play football. Then, after theygot enthused, and builded hopes of the championship onyou, cameyour quitting. Hicks defended you, Thor, and changed the boys' bittercondemnation to vast admiration, by telling of your life, your father'sbeing a castaway, your mother's dying wish, your toil to get learning, andyour inability to grasp college life. Then from gratitude to Mr. Hicks youstarted to play again—naturally, the students waxed enthusiastic, when youripped the 'Varsity to pieces, but now you may be dropped by the coach,after tomorrow, because you don't play for old Bannister, and yourindifference kills the team's fighting spirit. You do not care if you aredropped; it will give you more time to study, and relieve you of yourobligation, as you so quixotically view it, to play because Mr. Hicks willbe glad; but—think of the fellows.
"They, Thor, disappointed in you, their hopes of your bringing by yourmassive body and huge strength the Championship to old Bannister shattered,are still your friends—they of the eleven, I mean especially, for, as yet,the rest do not know you may be dropped. And the fellows came beneath yourwindow tonight to cheer you; they will do so, Thor, even if you are droppedand they know that you will not use that prodigious power for their AlmaMater in the big games; they will stand by you, for they understand! Justthink, old man; haven't the fellows, despite your rude rebuffs,triedto be your comrades? Haven't they helped you to get settled to work andassisted you with your studies? Why, you have been a big boor, cold andaloof, you have upset their hopes of you in football, and yet they have nocondemnation for you, naught but warm friendliness.
"You are not giving them or yourself a square deal, Thor! You won't eventryto understand campus life, to grasp its real purpose, to realize whattradition is! The time will come, Thor, when you will see your mistake; youwill yearn for their good fellowship, you will learn that getting knowledgeis not all of college life. You will know that this 'silly foolishness' ofsinging songs and giving the yell, of rooting for the eleven, of loyaltyand love for one's Alma Mater, is something worth while. And you may findit out too late. Oh, if you could only understand that it isn't what youtake from old Bannister that makes a man of you, it is what you give toyour college—in athletics, in your studies, in every phase of campus life;that in toiling and sacrificing for your Alma Mater you grow and develop,and reap a rich reward!"
Could T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., Butch Brewster, and the Gold and Green elevenhave heard little Theophilus' fervent and eloquent appeal to John Thorwald,they would have felt like giving three cheers for him. They loved thispathetic little boner, who, because of his pitifully frail body, couldnever fight for old Bannister on gridiron, diamond, or track, and theytremendously admired him for working for his college and for the redemptionof Thor. Timorous and shrinking by nature, whenever his Alma Mater, or afriend, needed him the Human Encyclopedia fought down his painful timidityand came up to scratch nobly.
It was Theophilus whose clear logic had vastly aided T. Haviland Hicks,Jr., to originate The Big Brotherhood of Bannister, in 1919's Sophomoreyear, and quell Roddy Perkins' Freshman Equal Rights campaign. In fact, ithad been the boner's suggestion that gave Hicks his needed inspiration.And, a Junior, Theophilus had been elected business manager of theBannister Weekly, with Hicks as editor-in-chief as a colossal joke. Theentire burden of that almost defunct periodical had been thrust on thosetwo, and, thanks to the grind's intensely humorous "copy," the Weekly hadbeen revived and rebuilt. And Theophilus, in writing the humorous articles,had been moved by a great ambition to do something for old Bannister.
"Look at me, Thor!" continued Theophilus Opperdyke, his puny body dwarfedas he faced the colossal Prodigious Prodigy. "A poor, weak, helplessnothing! I'd cheerfully sacrifice all the scholastic honor or glory I everwon, or shall win, just to make a touchdown for the Gold and Green, just towin a baseball game, or to break the tape in a race for old Bannister!And you—you, with that tremendous body, that massive bulk, that vaststrength—you won't play the game for your Alma Mater, you won't throwthat big frame into the scrimmage, thrilled with a desire to win for yourcollege! Oh, what wonderful things youcoulddo with your powerful build;but it means nothing to you, while I— Oh, you don't care, you just won'tawaken; and, unless you do, in tomorrow's game you'll be dropped from thesquad, a disgrace."
John Thorwald-Thor, the Prodigious Prodigy, that Gargantuan Freshman ofwhom Bannister said he possessed no soul—stirred uneasily, shifted hisvast tonnage from one foot to the other, and stared at little TheophilusOpperdyke. That solemn Senior, who had not seen the slightest effect his"Missionary Work" was having on the stolid Thor, was in despair; but he didnot know the truth. As Hicks had once said, "You don't know nothing whatgoes on in Thor's dome. There's a wall of solid concrete around themachinery of his mind, and you can't see the wheels, belts, and cogs atwork!"
T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., with all his keen insight into human nature, hadfailed utterly to diagnose Thor's case, had not even stumbled on the truecause of that young giant's aloofness. The truth was unknown to anyone,but there was one natural reason for John Thorwald's not mingling with hisfellows of the campus-the blond Colossus was inordinately bashful! From hisfifteenth year, Thor had seen the seamy side of life, had lived, grown anddeveloped among men. In his wanderings in the Klondike, the wild Northwest,in Panama, his experiences as cabin-boy, miner, cowboy, lumber-jack, andCanal Zone worker, he had existed where everything was roughness andviolence, where brawn, not brain, usually held sway, where supremacy waswon, kept, and lost by fists, spiked boots, or guns! In his adventurouscareer, young Thorwald had but seldom encountered the finer things of life,and his nature, while wholesome, was sturdy and virile, not likely to bestirred by sentiment; so that now, among the good-natured, friendly boys ofold Bannister, he, accustomed to rude surroundings and rough acquaintances,was bashful.
And Theophilus, as well as T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., shot far wide of themark in believing that the big Hercules had no power to feel; he possessedthat power, but, with it the ability to conceal his feelings. They thoughtnothing appealed to him, had stirred his soul, at college, but they werewrong; true, Thor was unable to understand this new, strange life; he waspuzzled when the collegians condemned and ostracized him at first, whenhe quit football because it was not a Faculty rule to play, but he wasgrateful when Hicks defended him, and the admiration of the student-bodywas welcome to him. He had thought he was doing all they desired of him,when he went back to the game, and now—when Theophilus told him that hemight be dropped from the squad, he was bewildered. He could not understandjust why this could be, when he was reporting for scrimmage every day!
But the friendliness of the youths, their kind help with his studies,the assistance of the genial Hicks, and, more than all, above eventhe admiration of the Freshmen for his promise and purpose, the dailymissionary work of little Theophilus, for whom the massive Thor felt a reallove, had been slowly, insidiously undermining John Thorwald's reserve. Nolonger did he condemn what he did not understand. At times he had a vaguefeeling that all was not right, that, after all, he was missing something,that study was not all; and yet, bashful as he was, fearing to appearrough, crude, and uncouth among these skylarking youths, Thor kept on hissilent, lonely way, and they thought him untouched by their overtures. Oflate, when unobserved, the big Freshman had stood by the window, watchingthe collegians on the campus, listening to their songs of old Bannister,and yet because he felt embarrassed when with them, he gave no sign that hecared.
Now, however, the splendid appeal of loyal, timorous Theophilus stirredThor, and yet he could not break down the wall of reserve he had buildedaround himself. He had deluded himself that this comradeship was not forhim, that he could never mingle with these happy-go-lucky youths, thathe must plod straight ahead, and live to himself, because his past hadroughened him.
"You are a Freshman!" spoke Theophilus, unaware that forces were at work onThor, and making a last effort. "You stand on the very threshold of yourcampus years; everything is before you. I am at the journey's end—verynearly, for in June I graduate from old Bannister. I never had the chanceto fight for my Alma Mater on the athletic field, and you—Oh, think ofwhat you can do! About to leave the campus, I, and my class-mates, realizehow dear our college has become to us. Ifyoucould just know thatBannister means something to you, even now, if you only felt it, youcould make your years mean great things to you. Thor, could you leave oldBannister tomorrow without regret, without one sigh for the dear old place?We, who soon shall leave it forever, fully understand Shakespeare, when ina sonnet he wrote:
"This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong—To love that well which thou must leave ere long!"
There was a silence, and then Thor slowly drew out a letter from itsenvelope, scanning the scrawl across its pages. A few moments, while itsmeaning seemed to seep into his slow-acting mind, and then a look ofhelpless bewilderment, as though the stolid Freshman just could notunderstand at all, came to his face; a minute John Thorwald stood, as in atrance, staring dully at the letter.
"Thor! Thor! What's the matter? What's wrong?" quavered the alarmedTheophilus, "Have you gotten bad news?"
"Read it, read it," said the big Freshman lifelessly, extending the letterto the startled Senior. "It's all over, I suppose, and I've got to go towork again. I've got to leave college, and toil once more, and save. Mypromise to my mother can't be fulfilled—yet. And just as I was gettingfairly started."
Theophilus Opperdyke hurriedly perused the message, which had come to Thorin that night's mail but which the blond giant had let lie unnoticed whilehe tackled his geometry. With difficulty Theophilus deciphered the scrawlon an official letterhead:
THE NEW YORK-CHRISTIANA STEAMSHIP LINE
(New York Offices)
Nov. 4, 19—.
DEAR SON:
I am writing to tell you that I've run into a sort of hurricane, and youand I have got a hard blow to weather. I started you at college on the$5,000 received from the heirs of Henry B. Kingsley, on whose yacht, asyou know, I was wrecked in the South Seas, and marooned for ten years. Ifigured on giving you an education with that sum, eked out by my wages, andwhat you earn in vacations.
I had the $5,000, untouched, in a New York bank, and I wanted to take itover to Christiania; when I was about to sail on my last voyage, I drew outthe sum, and put it in care of the Purser of the Norwhal, on which Iwas mate, intending, of course, to get it on docking, and deposit it inChristiania. At the last hour I was transferred to the Valkyrie, to saila few days later, and I knew the Norwhal's purser would leave the $5,000for me in the Company's Christiania offices, so I did not bother totransfer it to the Valkyrie.
Perhaps you read in the newspapers that the Norwhal struck a floatingmine, and went down with a heavy loss of life. The Purser was among thoselost, and none of the ship's papers were saved; my $5,000, of course, wentdown also.
I am sorry, John, but there seems nothing to do but for you to leavecollege and work. For your mother's sake, I wish we could avoid it; but wemust wait and work and tackle it again. Your first term expenses are paid,so stay until the term is out. Perhaps Mr. Hicks can give you a job in oneof his steel mills again, but we must work our own way, son. Don't losecourage, we'll fight this out together with the memory of your promise toyour dying mother to spur you on. The road may be long and rocky but we'llmake it. Just work and save, and in a year or two you can start at collegeagain. You can study at night, too, and keep on learning.
I'll write later. Stay at college till the term is up, and in the meantimetry to land a job. However, you won't have any trouble to do that. Keepyour nerve, boy, for your mother's sake. It's a hard blow, but we'llweather it, never fear, and reach port.
Your father,
JOHN THORWALD, SR.
P.S. I am sailing on the Valkyrie today, will write you on my return toNew York, in a few weeks.
Theophilus looked at the massive young Norwegian, who had taken thissolar-plexus blow with that same stolid apathy that characterized his everyaction. He wanted to offer sympathy, but he knew not how to reach Thor. Hefully understood how terrific the blow was, how it must stagger thebig, earnest Freshman, just as he, after ten years of grinding toil, ofsacrifice, of grim, unrelenting determination, had conquered obstacles andfought to where he had a clear track ahead. Just as it seemed that fate hadgiven him a fair chance, with his father rescued and five thousand dollarsto give him a college course, this terrible misfortune had befallen him.Theophilus realized what it must mean to this huge, silent Hercules, justmaking good his promise to his dying mother, to give up his studies, and goback to work, toil, labor, to begin all over again, to put off his collegeyears.
"Leave me, please," said Thor dully, apparently as unmoved by the blowas he had been by Theophilus' appeal. "I—I would like to be alone, forawhile."
Left alone, John Thorwald stood by the window, apparently not thinking ofanything in particular, as he gazed across the brightly lighted Quad. Thehuge Freshman seemed in a daze—utterly unable to comprehend the disasterthat had befallen him; he was as stolid and impassive as ever, andTheophilus might have thought that he did not care, even at having to giveup his college course, had not the Senior known better.
Across the Quadrangle, from the room of the Caruso-like Juniors,accompanied by a melodious banjo-twanging, drifted:
"Though thy halls we leave foreverSadly from the campus turn;Yet our love shall fail thee neverFor old Bannister we'll yearn!
"'Bannister, Bannister, hail, all hail!'Echoes softly from each heart;We'll be ever loyal to theeTill we from life shall part."
Strangely enough, the behemoth Thorwald was not thinking so much of havingto give up his studies, of having to lay aside his books and take up againthe implements of toil. He was not pondering on the cruelty of fate inmaking him abandon, at least temporarily, his goal; instead, his thoughtsturned, somehow, to his experiences at old Bannister, to the footballscrimmages, the noisy sessions in "Delmonico's Annex," the collegedining-hall, to the skylarking he had often watched in the dormitories. Hethought, too, of the happy, care-free youths, remembering Hicks, good ButchBrewster, loyal little Theophilus; and as he reflected, he heard thoseJuniors, over the way, singing. Just now they were chanting thatexquisitely beautiful Hawaiian melody, "Aloha Oe," or "Farewell to Thee,"making the words tell of parting from their Alma Mater. There was somethingin the refrain that seemed to break down Thor's wall of reserve, to meltaway his aloofness, and he caught himself listening eagerly as they sang.
Somehow he felt no desire to condemn those care-free youths, to call theirsinging silly foolishness, to say they were wasting their time and theirfathers' money. Queer, but he actually liked to hear them sing, he realizedhe had come to listen for their saengerfests. Now that he had to leavecollege, for the first time he began to ponder on what he must leave. Notalone books and study, but—
As he stood there, an ache in his throat, and an awful sorrow overwhelminghim, with the richly blended voices of the happy Juniors drifting across tohim, chanting a song of old Ballard, big Thor murmured softly:
"What did little Theophilus say? What was it Shakespeare wrote? Oh, I haveit:
"'This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong—To love that well, which thou must leave ere long.'"
CHAPTER X
THOR'S AWAKENING
"There's a hole in the bottom of the sea,And we'll put Bannister in that hole!In that hole—in—that—hole—Oh, we'll put Bannister in that hole!"
"In the famous words of the late Mike Murphy," said T. Haviland Hicks, Jr.,"the celebrated Yale and Penn track trainer, 'you can beat a team thatcan't be beat, but—you can't beat a team that won't be beat!' Latham mustbe in the latter class."
It was the Bannister-Latham game, and the first half had just ended.Captain Butch Brewster's followers had trailed dejectedly from BannisterField to the Gym, where Head Coach Corridan was flaying them with a tongueas keen as the two-edged sword that drove Adam and Eve from the Garden ofEden. A cold, bleak November afternoon, a leaden sky lowered overhead, anda chill wind swept athwart the field; in the concrete stands, the loyal"rooters" of the Gold and Green, or of the Gold and Blue, shivered,stamped, and swung their arms, waiting for the excitement of the scrimmageagain to warm them. Yet, the Bannister cohorts seemed silent anddiscouraged, while the Latham supporters went wild, singing, cheering,howling. A look at the score-board explained this:
END OF FIRST HALF: SCORE:Bannister ........ 0Latham ........... 3
The statement of T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., swathed in a gold and greenblanket and humped on the Bannister bench, to shivering little TheophilusOpperdyke, the Phillyloo Bird, Shad Weatherby, and several more collegianswho had joined him when the half ended, was singularly appropriate. InLatham's light, fast eleven, trained to the minute, coached to a shifty,tricky style of play with numberless deceptive fakes from which they workedthe forward pass successfully, Bannister seemed to have encountered, asMike Murphy phrased it, "A team that won't be beat!" According to theadvance dope of the sporting writers, who, in football, are usually as goodprophets as the Weather Bureau, Bannister was booked to come out the winnerby at least five touchdowns to none. But here a half was gone, and Lathamled by three points, scored on a rather lucky field-goal!
The psychology of football is inexplicable. Yale, beaten by Virginia,Brown, and Wash-Jeff, with the Blue's best gridiron star ineligible toplay, a team that seemed at odds with itself and the 'Varsity, mismanaged,poorly coached, journeys to Princeton to battle with old Nassau; the Tiger,Its tail as yet untwisted, presents its best eleven for several seasons, agreat favorite in the odds, and yet the final score is Yale, 14; Princeton,7! A strange fear of the Bulldog, bred of many bitter defeats, of similaroccasions when a feeble Yale team aroused itself and trampled an invincibleOrange and Black eleven, when the Blue fought old Nassau with a team that"wouldn't" be beat, gave victory to the poorer aggregation. So many thingsunforeseen often enter into a football contest, shifting the balance ofpower from the stronger to the weaker team. One eleven gets the jump on theother, the favorite weirdly goes to pieces—team dissension may exist, adozen other causes—but, boiled down, Mike Murphy's statement was mostappropriate now.
Latham simplywould notbe beat! The sporting pages had said: "Lathamsimply can't beat Bannister!" Here the team, that could not be beaten wasbeing defeated, and the team that would not be defeated was, so far, thevictor. Perhaps the threatened dropping of Thor from the Gold and Greensquad shook somewhat Captain Butch's players; more likely, the Lathamaggregation got the jump on Bannister, opening up a bewildering attack ofcriss-crosses, line plunges, cross-bucks, and tandems, from all of whichthe forward pass frequently developed; they literally overwhelmed asupposedly unbeatable team. And once they got the edge, it was hard forBannister to regain poise and to smother the fast plays that swept throughor around the bewildered eleven.
"We havegotto beat 'em!" growled Shad, "Mike Murphy or not. Why,if little old Latham cleans us up, smash go our chances of the StateChampionship! Oh, look at Thor—the big mountain of muscle. Why doesn't hewake up, and go push that team off the field?"
Thor, the Prodigious Prodigy, his vast hulk unprotected from the cold windby a football blanket, squatted on the ground, on the side-line, apparentlyin a trance. Ever since the night before, when his father's letter haddealt such a knock-out blow to his hopes of fulfilling the promise to hisdying mother, had rudely side-tracked him from the climb to his goal, theblond giant had maintained that dumb apathy. If anything, it seemed thatthe cruel blow of fate had only served to make Thor more stolid andimpassive than ever, and Theophilus wondered if the Colossus had reallygrasped the import of the tragic letter as yet. The news had spread overthe college and campus, and the students were sincerely sorry for Thor. Butto offer him sympathy was about as difficult as consoling a Polar bear withthe toothache.
Coach Corridan, carrying out his plot, had decided not to start Thor inthe first half of the game. So the Norwegian Hercules, having received noorders to the contrary, however, donned togs and appeared on the side-line,where he had sat, paying not the slightest heed to the scrimmage andseemingly unaware that the Gold and Green was facing defeat and the loss ofthe Championship, for a game lost would put the team out of the running.All big John Thorwald knew was, in a few weeks he must leave old Bannister,must give up, for a time, his college course. Just when the grim battle waswon, he must leave, to work. Not that the Viking cared about toil. It wasthe delay that chafed even his stolid self. He was stunned at having towait, maybe two years, before starting again.
And yet, as he squatted on the side-line, oblivious to everything but hisbitter reflections, the Theophilus-quoted words of Shakespeare persisted inintruding on his thoughts:
"This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong—To love that well, which thou must leave ere long."
Try as he would, he could not fight away the keen realization thatbooks and study were not all he would regret to leave. He was forced toacknowledge that his mind kept wandering to other things. He found himselfpondering on the parting with Theophilus Opperdyke, with that crazy Hicks;he wondered if he, out in the world again, toiling his lonely way, wouldmiss the glad fellowship of these care-free youths that he had watched,but never shared, if he would ever think of the weeks at old Bannister.Somehow, he felt that he would often vision the Quad at night, brightlylighted, dormitories' lights agleam, students crossing and recrossing,shouting at studious comrades. He would hear again the melodiousbanjo-twanging, the gleeful saengerfests, the happy skylarking of the boys.He had never entered into all this, and yet he knew he would miss it all;why, he would even miss the daily scrimmage on Bannister Field; the noisyshower-room, with its clouds of steam, and white forms flitting ghostlike.He would miss the classrooms; in brief,everything!
John Thorwald was awakening! Even had this blow not befallen him, the huge,slow-minded Norwegian, in time, with Theophilus Opperdyke's missionarywork, would have gradually come to understand things better—at least, toknow he was wrong in his ideas, which is the beginning of wisdom. Already,he had ceased to condemn all this as foolishness, to rail at the youthsfor wasting time and money. Already something stirred within him, and yet,stolid as he was, bashful among the collegians, he was apparently the same.But the sudden shock Head Coach Corridan spoke of had come. His father'sletter telling of his loss and that Thor must leave Bannister had awakenedhim to the startling knowledge that he did care for something more thanstudy, that all the things that had puzzled him, that he had sneered at,meant something to his existence, that he dreaded leaving other things thanhis books.
"I—I don't understand things," thought Thorwald. "But—if I could onlystay, I'd want to learn. I'd try to get this 'college' spirit! Oh, I'vebeen all wrong, but if I could only stay—"
As if in answer to his unspoken thought, the big Freshman beheld marchingtoward him Theophilus Opperdyke, his spectacles off, and his face aglow,T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., evidently in the throes of emotional insanity; aSenior whom he knew as Parson Palmetter; Registrar Worthington, and DoctorAlford, the kindly, beloved Prexy of old Bannister. The last named placedhis hand on the puzzled behemoth's ponderous shoulder.
"Thorwald," he said kindly, "Hicks, Opperdyke and Brewster, last night,came to my study and acquainted me with your misfortune. They told me ofyour life-history, of your splendid purpose to gain knowledge, to makesomething of yourself, for your dying mother's sake. Old Bannister needsmen like you, Thorwald. Perhaps you do not understand campus ways andtradition yet, perhaps you are not in sympathy with everything here; butonce a love for your Alma Mater is awakened, you will be a power for goodfor your college.
"Now I at once took up the matter with Mr. Palmetter, President of TheStudents' Aid Bureau. This year, for the first time in our history, we havedispensed with janitors and sweeps in the dormitories, and with dining-hallwaiters, so that needy and deserving students may work their way throughBannister. Owing to the fact that Mr. Deane, a Senior, has given up hisdormitory, Creighton Hall, as he has funds for the year and needs the timeto study, we can offer you board and tuition, in exchange for your work inthe dormitory, and waiting on tables in the dining-hall. Since your firstterm bills, until January first, are paid, if you will start to work atonce, we will credit any work done this term on books and incidentals fornext term. By this means—"
"Why, you don't—youcan'tmean—" rumbled Thor, who had just dimlygrasped the greatest point in Prexy's speech. "Why, then I won't have toleave Bannister—I won't have to quit my studies! Oh, thank you, sir; thankyou! I will worksohard. I am not afraid of work; I love it—a chance totoil and earn my education, that's what I want! Thank you!"
"And in addition," said the Registrar, "Mr. Palmetter reports that he cansecure you, downtown, a number of furnaces to tend this winter, which youcan do early in the morning and at night; this will bring you an income forliving expenses, and in the spring something else will offer itself. Itmeans every moment of your time will be crowded, but Bannister needsworkers—"
Something stirred in John Thorwald. His heart had been touched at last. Hethought of T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., Butch, and little Theophilus worriedat his having to leave college, going to Doctor Alford; of Prexy, theRegistrar, and Parson Palmetter, working to keep Thor at old Bannister.He recalled how sympathetic all the youths had been, how they admired hispurpose and determination; and he had rewarded their friendliness withcold aloofness. He felt a thrill as he visioned himself working for hiseducation, rising in the cold dawn, tending furnaces, working in the dorm.,waiting on tables—studying. With what fierce joy he would assail histasks, glad that he could stay! He knew the students would rejoice, thatthey would not look down on him; instead, they would respect and admirehim, toiling to grow and develop, to attain his goal!
"Go to it, Thor!" urged T. Haviland Hicks, Jr. "We all want you to stay,old man; we'll give you a lift with your studies. Old Bannisterwantsyou,needsyou, sostick!"
"Stay, please!" quavered little Theophilus. "You don't want to leave yourAlma Mater; stay, Thorwald, and—you'll understand things soon,"
"Report at the Registrar's office at seven tonight, Thorwald," said Prexy,and then, because he understood boys and campus problems, "and to show yourgratitude, you might go out there and spank that team which is trying tolick old Bannister."
John Thorwald, when Doctor Alford and the Registrar had gone, arose andstood gazing across Bannister Field. He saw not the white-lined gridiron,the gaunt goal-posts, the concrete stands filled with spectators, or thegay banners and pennants. He saw the buildings and campus of old Bannister,the stately old elms bordering the walks; he beheld the Gym., the fourdormitories—Bannister, Nordyke, Smithson, and Creighton—the white Chapel,the ivy-covered Library, the Administration and Recitation Halls; heglimpsed the Memorial Arch over the entrance driveway, and big Alumni Hall.All at once, like an inundating wave, the great realization flashed onThor that he did not have to leave it all! Often again would he hear theskylarking youths, the gay songs, the banjo-strumming; often would he seethe brightly lighted Quad., would gaze out on the campus! It was stillhis—the work, the study, and, if he tried, even the glad comradeship ofthe fellows, the bigger things of college life, which as yet he did notunderstand.
The big slow-minded youth could not awaken, at once, to a full knowledgeand understanding of campus life and tradition, to a knowledge of collegespirit; but, thanks to the belief that he had to leave it all, he hadawakened to the startling fact that already he loved old Bannister. Andnow, joyous that he could stay, John Thorwald suddenly felt a strong desireto do something, not for himself, but for these splendid fellows who hadworried for his sake, had worked to keep him at college. And just then heremembered the somewhat unclassical, yet well meant, words of dear oldDoctor Alford, "And to show your gratitude, you might go out there andspank that team, which is trying to lick old Bannister."
John Thorwald for the first time looked at the score-board; he saw, in bigwhite letters:
BANNISTER .......... 0LATHAM ............. 3
From the Gym. the Gold and Green players—grim, determined, and yet worriedby the team that "won't be beat!"—were jogging, followed by Head CoachPatrick Henry Corridan. The Latham eleven was on the field, the Gold andBlue rooters rioted in the stands. From the Bannister cohorts came athunderous appeal:
"Hold 'em, boys—hold 'em, boys—hold—hold—hold!Don't let 'em beat the Green and the Gold!"
A sudden fury swayed the Prodigious Prodigy; it was his college, hiseleven, and those Blue and Gold youths were actually beating old Bannister!The Bannister boys had admired him, some of them had helped him in hisstudies, three had told Doctor Alford of him, had made it possible for himto stay, to keep on toward his goal. They would be sorrow-stricken ifLatham won! A feeling of indignation came to Thor. How dare those fellowsthink they could beat old Bannister! Why,hewould go out there and showthem a few things!
Head Coach Corridan, let it be chronicled, was paralyzed when he duckedunder the side-line rope—stretched to hold the spectators back—to collidewith an immovable body, John Thorwald, and to behold an eager light on thatbehemoth's stolid face. Grasping the Slave-Driver in a grip that hurt, Thorboomed:
"Mr. Corridan, let me play,please! Send me out this half. We can win.We'vegotto win! I want to do something for old Bannister. Why, if welose today, we lose the Championship! I don't understand things yet, but Ido love the college. I want to fight for Bannister. Please let me play!"
The astonished coach and the equally dazed Gold and Green eleven, with thebewildered collegians who heard Thor's earnest appeal, were silent a fewmoments, unable to grasp the truth. Then Captain Brewster, his face aglow,seized the big Freshman's arm excitedly.
"Sure you'll play, Thor!" he shouted. "Fullback, old man! Come on, team.Thor's awake! He wants to fight for his Alma Mater; he wants Bannister towin! Oh, watch us shove Latham off the field—everybody together now—theyell, for Thor!"
"Right here," grinned an excitedly happy T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., when theyell was given, "is where a team that won't be beat gets licked by a chapwhat can lick 'em!"
What took place when the blond Prodigious Prodigy lumbered on BannisterField at the start of the last half of the Bannister-Latham game can beimagined by the final score-board figures:
BANNISTER ......... 27LATHAM ............. 3
It can best be described with the aid of Scoop Sawyer's account in the nextBannister Weekly:
—At the start of the second half, however, the Latham cohorts were givena shock when they beheld a colossal being almost as big as the entire Goldand Blue eleven, go in at fullback for Bannister. And the Latham elevenreceived a series of shocks when Thor began intruding that massive bodyof his into their territory. Tennyson's saying, "The old order changeth,yielding place to new" was aptly illustrated in the second half; forBannister's bugler quit sounding "Retreat!" and blew "Charge!" Fourtouchdowns and three goals from touchdowns, in one half, is usuallyconsidered a fair day's work for an entire team. Even Yale or Harvard; butwhen one player corrals four touchdowns in a half—he is going some! Well,Thor went some! Most of the half he furnished free transportation fortwo-thirds of the Latham team, carrying them on his back, legs, and neck,as he strode down the field; a writ of habeas corpus could not have stoppedthe blond Colossus. Anyone would have stood more show to stop an Alpineavalanche than to slow up Thor, and the stretcher was constantly inevidence, for Latham knockouts.