The Chums of Scranton High on the Cinder Path Part 7

But Mr. Leonard was of a different opinion, and he had his way. One thing, however, he did insist on. This was that each and every candidate entering for the Marathon fetch along with him a paper from his family physician, stating that he had undergone a rigid examination to ascertain whether he was in the pink of condition, and without the slightest heart trouble.

Doctor Cadmus gladly examined all the Scranton fellows free of charge, and it was given out to the neighboring towns, from whence aspiring runners hailed, that the lack of such a physician's certificate would debar any candidate from the race.

Hugh, along with several other fellows, intended to take a run of from seven to ten miles over the course that Friday afternoon. They did not wish to follow out the entire course, as that might injure their prospects for the next day, so Mr. Leonard convinced them. But half the distance would be apt to keep their muscles in good trim.

Before making a start, however, Hugh wished to hang around, and watch what the other fellows were doing. He was deeply interested in the hammer throwing, as well as the sprinting, and, after seeing how well the boys acquitted themselves, felt more than ever a.s.sured that Scranton High would pull down quite a number of the fine prizes offered to successful compet.i.tors.

It was while things were thus booming that a car rolled past on the main road leading out of town. Hugh noticed it particularly, for he chanced to be over at that side of the extensive field.

There was a chauffeur at the wheel, and in the tonneau a lady and a boy sat, in whom Hugh quickly recognized Claude Jardine and his mother. She held her face deliberately away from the bright scene, as though appalled to know that so many parents in Scranton were so unwise, almost foolish, as to allow their sons to partic.i.p.ate in such antics; and their daughters to attend the same.

But Hugh chuckled when he saw Claude give a quick look up at his mother, as if to make certain she was not looking; after which he leaned forward and stared hard and eagerly at the wonderful picture that athletic field presented. Hugh had good eyesight, and he could detect the longing expression in the effeminate features of the boy whose mother seemed bent on making him a weakling and a "sissy."

"Poor Claude, I certainly do pity you," Hugh was telling himself as the big car rolled on amidst a cloud of dust. "Deep down in your heart you are yearning to be as other natural boys are, who have red blood in their veins. If your dad had lived I warrant there'd be a different story to tell, because they say he liked all kinds of healthy sport; but, somehow, Mrs. Jardine has taken a dislike to such things that seems to keep growing stronger all the time, until it's become a regular mania with her. But unless she changes her mind there'll be a day coming when she'll bitterly regret it all. I suppose now, if she had a daughter she'd prevent her from a.s.sociating with Sue, and Ivy, and Peggy, as well as all the other high-school girls whose mothers actually allow them to go to dances with us boys, and even cheer the Scranton players in a rattling good baseball game."

There was an air of feverish expectation rampant throughout the whole town, and wherever young people got together the talk was of nothing else save the great event on the programme for the next day. Even many older persons seemed to have become infected with the sporting virus, because memories of other days were being recalled; and it was remarkable how many elderly men had once been deeply interested in just such things, though, of course, along somewhat less modern lines.

Then again there was an undercurrent of talk that carried a thrill along with it. Stories that could not be confirmed, but were believed more or less, began to be circulated to the effect that some irresponsible parties meant to start something during the tournament that was calculated to bring disrepute upon the town of Scranton. It was even darkly hinted that the partly built, new, wooden fence had been set on fire as a lark; and squads of curious boys and girls even circulated along its entire length, bent upon ascertaining if such a thing could really be true.

When they failed to find any evidence of a fire, they were still unconvinced; for, of course, it would be policy on the part of the management to conceal all traces, so as to save the good name of the town.

These rumors could not be traced to any particular source, but there are always a certain number of persons who delight to circulate such stories, and, perhaps, unconsciously, add a little to the same with each and every additional telling, until a trivial happening becomes a colossal thing.

That the committee in general charge of the great undertaking cherished some sort of fear that some daring outrage might be attempted by boys who were not connected with the high school was evident from the fact that they had had warning notices printed at the office of the _Weekly Courier_, notifying all boys who might contemplate playing any sort of practical joke during the holding of the carnival that Chief Adolph Wambold, the head of the local police, would have his entire force on the grounds, and such offenders would be harshly treated, if detected.

The afternoon was well along when Hugh was approached by "Just"

Smith, one of the candidates who meant to try for the Marathon prize.

"Several of the boys are meaning to start off on that seven-mile spin, Hugh," the other announced as he came up; "and they want you to come along. We can start together, and then separate, as we feel disposed;" and, as this suited Hugh, he agreed.

CHAPTER X

WHEN MUSCLES COUNTED

There were four of them who made the start, Hugh, "Just" Smith, Horatio Juggins, and "K. K.," the Kinkaid boy. Three of the bunch had been fielders in the baseball nine that carried off the champions.h.i.+p pennant of the three-town high-school league the preceding summer; and, having been known as great runners, it was only natural that they had felt impelled to enter for the long-distance race.

An equal number could be expected from both Allandale and Belleville, so that with others who would feel disposed to, at least, be in at the start, though calculating to fall out after a few miles had been run, possibly a full score would toe the string at the time the great Marathon was called.

In an event of this nature a big "field" adds to the excitement of the occasion; and it is often noticed that those who have no intention of finis.h.i.+ng usually look the most confident during the preparations for making the grand start. Well, they have no hope of getting any fun out of the race after losing sight of the crowd, and so they mean to take what they can beforehand.

Talking is almost tabooed during such a race, since every breath lost in useless conversation saps so much energy. Even on a trial run Mr.

Leonard had advised the boys to separate as soon as possible, and keep some distance apart, mostly to obviate this temptation to exchange views; so that each candidate could conserve every atom of his powers.

So it came about that by the time two miles had been run Hugh found himself absolutely alone. Hugh had left the main thoroughfare, and was pa.s.sing along a byroad that would take him around through the hilly country, until the Scranton turnpike was again reached.

The other fellows had the option of doing as Hugh did, or they could continue on further, and, perhaps, get a lift back home on some farmer's wagon, or possibly a car bound for Scranton. Hugh had an idea, however, that one of them was coming along the same road a mile or more behind, and that it would turn out to be "Just" Smith. Some words the other chap had uttered when they were together before starting forth on the run gave Hugh this impression, though he could not be positive about it.

At the time, it gave him little concern; but then he could not look into the immediate future, and see what it held for him. The coming of "Just" Smith would yet turn out to be an event of the first magnitude in Hugh's humble opinion; as the reader will soon learn.

Hugh was jogging along nicely, and had long ago caught his second wind. He kept "tabs" upon himself, in order to know just how his energy held out, and if he was likely to be in condition for the gruelling finish that might become necessary, over the last half mile of the long course, should a visiting runner threaten to head the list with the goal in sight, and the thousands of eager spectators bursting out with cheers calculated to thrill the heart, and give fresh impetus to wearied limbs.

On the whole, Hugh felt fairly well satisfied with himself. He knew he had gone about as fast as ordinary runners would care to travel, who wished to conserve their strength toward the close of the race; and that he was holding back a good reserve stock of energy. Yes, he believed he was at his best, and if he failed to land the prize it was because some fellow was a better runner than he could ever hope to be.

Just then he heard a sound that gave him a sudden thrill. It was like a faint human cry for help, uttered in a weak voice, and seemed to come from his right.

Hugh stopped short.

His first inclination was to instantly dash from the road and endeavor to discover what caused that cry. Then he had a wave of suspicion dart over him. Could this be a sly trick on the part of some enemy, meant to lure him into the brush and rocks, where he could, perhaps, be overpowered? But Nick, as well as his two satellites, Leon Disney and Tip Slavin, had been on the grounds at the time Hugh started his run, for he had taken particular notice of this fact; consequently, it was hardly likely that they could be concerned in any practical joke; and certainly no other fellow would be guilty of such a thing.

That decided Hugh. He left the road, and started toward the spot where he judged that strange sound had welled forth. The country was exceedingly rough just there, and he fancied that some sort of deep gully, possibly a precipice, might lie off on his right, judging from the aspect of the land.

Not hearing the sound again, Hugh uttered a loud h.e.l.lo. Then, as he continued to press hastily forward, he once more caught the beseeching cry. It had an agonizing strain to it, and Hugh could plainly make out the words:

"Help! Oh! help! help!"

Someone was evidently in trouble, Hugh decided, accelerating his pace as well as the conditions of the rough surface of the ground permitted. He had taken pains to locate the cry this time, and was, therefore, altering his course just a little.

Again he called, and once more received a reply, more fearful than before:

"Hurry! Oh! hurry, before it gives way, and I'm lost!"

It sounded more like the voice of a girl than anything else. Hugh was thrilled at the bare thought of one of the opposite s.e.x being caught in a trap whereby life itself was imperiled.

He had been ascending all this time. From a single look, which he cast over his shoulder, he could see the road he had lately come along, trace its course, in fact, until it was lost at a bend half a mile away.

He noted that a runner had just turned that same bend, and was jogging along in a rhythmic, contented fas.h.i.+on, as though satisfied with the progress he was making; although "Just" Smith would have to speed up considerable on the morrow if he wished to be anywhere near the head of the procession when the race neared its close. Hugh, somehow, fixed the fact of his comrade's presence on his mind. He even mentally figured just how long it was likely to take the other to reach the spot where he himself had left the road; for, perhaps, that circ.u.mstance might loom up large in his calculations.

Then he arrived at the brink of what seemed to be a precipice. The presence of this told Hugh plainly the nature of the task that awaited him. Someone had undoubtedly fallen over the brink, and was, even then, hanging on desperately to some jutting rock or bush that represented the only hope of safety from a serious fall. He threw himself down and thrust his head out over the edge. What Hugh saw was enough to give any boy a thrill of horror. Some ten feet below the top a human figure sprawled, kicking with his legs in the endeavor to find a brace for his feet. He was clinging to a bush that seemed to be growing from the face of the precipice, and which Hugh could see was slowly but surely giving way, one root after another losing its grip in the soil and rocky crevices.

Hugh recognized the imperiled boy instantly, though utterly amazed at his discovery; he could not understand for the life of him how Claude Jardine, of all fellows in Scranton, could be placed in such a dreadful predicament.

But Hugh did not waste a single precious second in trying to solve that puzzle; it could be all made plain after he had managed to save the poor chap.

"Stop kicking, and keep perfectly still, Claude!" he instantly called.

"But it's going to give way, and let me drop!" wailed the terrified boy.

"It'll do that all the sooner if you keep moving as you are," Hugh told him sharply, with the tone of authority that one accustomed to command might use. "I'm coming down after you, so don't be afraid.

Can you hold on just ten seconds more?"

"I'll try to, but, oh! hurry, please!" came the trembling answer.

Already Hugh was pa.s.sing over the edge. He took care not to make a false movement, for the precipice was all of forty feet in depth, and a fall on the rocks below was bound to be a serious matter.

To lower himself to where the imperiled boy clung he had to take advantage of numerous projecting points of rock that offered him a foothold, or a place where he could hang on with his hands. Hugh was as nimble as any boy in Scranton, which fact proved of great advantage to him just then. Had it been otherwise, he might have himself fallen, and there would then have been a double tragedy.