THE CRIMSON BANNERCHAPTER IA SINGULAR LETTER
THE CRIMSON BANNER
One pleasant evening during the first week in April I left my room in Colver Hall, and started across the campus of Belmont College toward the main street of the town. As I approached the gateway at the entrance to the grounds, I noticed several of the boys sitting upon and around the two large cannons that stood on either side of the gateway, mounted upon their old fashioned iron carriages.
These old cannons were landmarks of the college, and dear to the heart of every inmate. Many years before they had been discovered by a rambling party of students in a deserted part of the hilly country about ten miles west of Belmont. It was believed that they had been left there by a section of the army during the war of 1812. However that might be, they were appropriated and dragged home to the college, where they were enthusiastically adopted by the students, and soon became favorite lounging posts. Almost every warm afternoon or evening would findseveral fellows perched on the old artillery or seated near by, reading, chatting, or singing college songs.
Through the deepening twilight I recognized two of my classmates leaning against one of the cannon.
“Hello, Miller,” I called out, “where is Tony Larcom?”
“Down by the lake, I think,” was the answer. “He was here about twenty minutes ago, and said he was going to the boat house to look after his canoe.”
Retracing my steps, I hurried around old Burke Hall, the main building of the college, and crossed the back quadrangle. Then, leaving the circuitous path to the boat house, I struck out on a straight line down through the underbrush toward the shore of the lake. There I stood a moment, close to the dock, looking out over the water.
The dusk prevented my seeing further than fifty yards ahead, and in that space no sign of Tony’s boat appeared, so, putting my hands to my mouth, I called out at the top of my voice,
“Hello, Tony Larcom!”
The cry rang out over the quiet sheet of water, and echoed back from the rugged sides of Mount Bell, which loomed up in the evening sky beyond the lake.
Receiving no reply, I repeated my call several times with increasing force.
Suddenly a queer chuckling noise sounded almost immediately beside me, and peering through the bushes, I saw the face of Tony Larcom not four feet in frontof me. He was seated quietly in his canoe, and with difficulty repressing his laughter.
“Did you speak?” he asked, straightening his face into an expression of gravity, when he found he had been discovered.
“Oh, no,” I answered sarcastically. “I was only breathing hard. What do you mean by sitting there without a word while I was shouting myself hoarse?”
“Why, I didn’t recognize you at first, Harry. You had your mouth open so wide I couldn’t see you at all. What do you want?”
“Do you realize the fact that there is to be a mass meeting of the college in the Latin room at half past seven to consider baseball matters, and that you, as secretary of the association, must be there?”
“I do,” said Tony.
“Then what are you doing down here by the lake? I’ve been looking all over for you, and was afraid you were going to play us your old trick of forgetting all about an important engagement.”
“Oh, no, not this time. I wouldn’t miss the mass meeting for the world. There was plenty of time, and I wanted to see how my canoe had stood the winter, so I came down to try her on the water. She will be all right with a little paint. Give me a hand here and help me get her out.”
Tony paddled along toward the boat house, while I accompanied him, pushing my way through the bushes that grew thickly by the water’s edge.
When we had reached the dock I helped him drag out the canoe and carry it into the boat house.
As he made it fast to the wall, Tony remarked,
“There will be something besides baseball to interest the boys tonight. I have a letter to read.”
“From whom?”
“From Park College.”
“What about?”
“Read it and see,” said Tony, taking a letter from his pocket and handing it to me.
I opened it, and, standing in the light of the single oil lamp fastened against the wall, I read as follows:
To the Students of Belmont College:On a number of occasions during late years your attention has been called to the claims of Park College to the cannons which stand upon your campus. Enough evidence has been produced to convince an unprejudiced mind of our right of ownership of said cannons, but this evidence has in every case been rejected by you. We, the students of Park College, have at length decided to take a positive stand in the matter, and, accordingly, submit to you this formal demand for the surrender of the cannons to us. Should this be disregarded, we shall take more active steps to secure our rights. We trust this will secure your immediate attention, and await the favor of your reply.
To the Students of Belmont College:
On a number of occasions during late years your attention has been called to the claims of Park College to the cannons which stand upon your campus. Enough evidence has been produced to convince an unprejudiced mind of our right of ownership of said cannons, but this evidence has in every case been rejected by you. We, the students of Park College, have at length decided to take a positive stand in the matter, and, accordingly, submit to you this formal demand for the surrender of the cannons to us. Should this be disregarded, we shall take more active steps to secure our rights. We trust this will secure your immediate attention, and await the favor of your reply.
I looked up in amazement. Tony winked.
“How is that for a game of bluff?” he asked.
“What in the world do they mean by ‘active steps’?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Legal proceedings would be simply absurd. My idea is that they think because theircollege is a trifle larger than ours that they can bully us. They have always wanted the cannons, you know.”
“Yes, but I thought they had given up all claims several years ago when the subject was thoroughly discussed in the college papers. You remember, they claimed that the cannons were in their country, two miles from Berkeley, and so belonged to them. But it was decided then that they belonged to nobody, and as our students had found them, they were ours by right of treasure trove as well as forty years’ possession.”
“Yes, but you know how it is in college: a new batch of students comes in and revives old sores. Now they are at it again, and now it isourbusiness to meet them as it was our predecessor’s.”
“Well, we will, and with a vengeance, too, if necessary. Did you show the letter to Edwards?”
Edwards was the managing editor of the college paper, theBelmont Chronicle.
“No; I received it only two hours ago in the late afternoon mail. Come up to Burke Hall, and we will have some fun with it. Watch the sensation when I read it to the boys in the mass meeting.”
Closing the side door of the boat house, Tony padlocked it, and we started back again toward the campus.
“Have you seen Ray Wendell this afternoon?” I asked.
“No; but of course he will be on hand. Whatwould a baseball meeting be without Ray Wendell? By the way, what a scare he gave me last month when he hinted about resigning the captaincy.”
“That was a queer notion. What started it, I wonder?”
“He said he was afraid it would interfere with his studies, especially his preparation for his final examinations.”
“Bosh!”
“Well, you know he is working for one of the honorary orations at commencement, and he said he would have to work hard, for there is to be a good deal of competition this year.”
“Nonsense, Wendell is sure of an oration, and probably the valedictory. There isn’t a smarter man in the Senior class. There is no reason why baseball should interfere at all.”
“Certainly not. If we are to have a winning team this year it will only be with Ray Wendell as captain—and so I told him. I showed him that all the fellows looked to him, and the college reputation rested in his hands. That soon brought him to terms, and he has never mentioned the matter since. I can’t help thinking, however, that there was more back of that freak of his than he said.”
“He knows as well as the rest of us how necessary he is to the nine,” I rejoined.
“And for that very reason I think something must have influenced him. At first I thought perhaps his father had asked him to give up baseball, but thenI remembered that Mr. Wendell always seemed to be as proud of Ray’s athletics as he was of his high rank in his class. Still, I don’t care, now that he has let the matter drop.”
“What is that crowd doing outside of Burke Hall?” I asked. “Do you suppose that old Ferguson has forgotten to unlock the Latin room door?”
“Looks like it,” said Tony. “Still he must be there, for the windows are bright. He must be lighting up now.”
The question was promptly settled, for, while we were speaking there was a sudden outburst of cheers, and the crowd surged into the building. The doors had evidently just been opened.
Pandemonium reigned within as we entered. The room was crowded to suffocation with a noisy, jostling mass of students. Every seat was full, and many of the boys were standing along the side walls. The din was almost deafening. Suddenly Tony Larcom’s presence was detected and immediately his name was on every one’s lips.
“There’s Tony. Take the chair, Tony. Pass him up to the platform, fellows.”
He was seized unceremoniously by a dozen pairs of hands, and half dragged, half carried, to the desk. There he stood a moment, laughing and kicking, until he was released, when he sobered down, took out his note book, and seated himself at a small desk in front of the platform, ready for business.
I made my way to the front row where Dick Palmerhad reserved a place for me with considerable difficulty, by sitting in one seat and putting his feet in the next one.
At this moment Clinton Edwards, who had been asked by Tony to open the meeting, went upon the platform and summoned the crowd to order by hammering on the desk with a heavy ruler.
As all were intensely interested in the subject for which the meeting was called, the room soon became perfectly still.