Read The Winning Touchdown: A Story of College Football Page 10


  CHAPTER X

  THE BIG CALIFORNIAN

  Tom saw what was about to happen, and his ready hand fell on his chum'sshoulder.

  "Not here! Not now!" he whispered into his ear. "Some other time, Phil.Think of your sister--of the other girls. A crowd is gathering. Not now!Not now!"

  Phil made a motion as if to shake off the restraining grasp, and thenthought better of it. In the meanwhile, Sid had casually stepped infront of Langridge. The left half-back motioned to Gerhart to call asidehis chum, and the bully's crony was only too glad to do this, for he wassomewhat of a coward, and he feared lest he, too, be entangled in thequarrel which seemed imminent.

  "Go away, Langridge," advised Sid, in a low voice. "If you wantsatisfaction later I'm sure our friend will give it to you. But notnow."

  "Yes, come on," urged Gerhart, linking his arm in that of his friend.He swung him around, and Langridge, with a vindictive look at Phil,allowed himself to be led away. At the same time Tom, with a forcedlaugh, for the benefit of the crowd, walked Phil to one side.

  "Say something!" he whispered, hoarsely. "Laugh, Phil, if you don't wantto make it unpleasant for the girls. The people are beginning to askquestions."

  The quarter-back at once rallied to save the situation. He clapped Tomon the back, and exclaimed:

  "That's pretty good, old fellow! Pretty good. You must tell that storyat the next frat. dinner. But it was a great game, wasn't it? Now, comeon, Ruth, and we'll all go and have something to drink. Hot chocolatewouldn't be bad."

  "Most delightful," chimed in Miss Harrison, with a grateful look at Sidand Tom, as she gallantly threw herself into the breach.

  "So good of you," murmured Ruth, smiling, though her paleness belied hermeaningless words, and she was trembling.

  The three lads, each walking beside one of the girls--Tom with Ruth,Phil with Madge Tyler, and Sid with Miss Harrison--strolled toward theentrance gate of the football field.

  "Nobly done, old chap," whispered Tom.

  The crowd began to melt away.

  "I thought there was going to be a fight," murmured one disappointedlad, whose "loud" clothes bespoke his sporting proclivities.

  "There was," answered a companion, "only something stopped it."

  "Who are those three fellows?" asked another lad from Boxer Hall--afreshman evidently.

  "What--don't you know the three inseparables?" inquired the "sport.""Not to know them argues yourself unknown."

  The girls were more at their ease now, and Phil, who had started whathad so nearly been trouble, did not refer to it, to the great relief ofhis sister. Really, the interview with Langridge had been unsought onthe part of the girls, and they had done their best to avoid speaking tohim, without being downright insulting.

  Miss Tyler and Miss Harrison began a series of gay nothings, and Ruthwas soon drawn into the conversation, to which Tom, Phil and Sidcontributed their share.

  "Oh, tell us about the clock and chair mystery, boys," begged Ruth, whenthey had left the place where they had partaken of hot chocolate. "Philsaid something about it, but I had to drag it out of him like a lawyercross-questioning a reluctant witness."

  "My! Listen to Portia!" cried Madge. "But we should dearly love to hearabout the queer happenings."

  Thereupon the three young men together and separately, told of thedisappearance of their beloved chair, the missing clock, the appearanceof the mahogany timepiece, and their ineffectual search for clews.

  "And if Langridge didn't have a hand in it, I'll eat my hat, saving thepresence of you ladies," declared Tom. "Only I can't get Sid or Phil toagree with me."

  "What about, eating your hat?" demanded the quarter-back. "Don't let usinterfere with that pleasure. Go ahead. If yours isn't enough, you mayhave a couple of bites out of mine."

  "Oh, you know what I mean," declared Tom, in a little huff.

  "If you mean about Langridge, I _don't_ agree with you," put in Sid. "Henever had his finger in this pie."

  "Right, Oh!" exclaimed Phil, and then the discussion started all overagain, and lasted until the girls declared that they must return toFairview.

  "Well, what do you think of it, fellows?" asked Tom, some time later,when the three chums were on their way back to their rooms. "ThinkLangridge will start anything?"

  "No," was Sid's opinion. "I guess he'll be glad to let well enoughalone."

  "I suppose you think I didn't do exactly right to make the break Idid," ventured Phil, "but I couldn't stand it to see him talking toRuth."

  "Me, either!" declared Tom, so heartily that the other two laughed, andthe little strained feeling that had manifested itself passed away.

  As they strolled down the corridor the three lads nearly ran into ayouth who turned the corner of the hall suddenly.

  "I beg your pardon, strangers!" he exclaimed, in a full, rich voice. "Isure didn't see you coming, nor yet hear you. I guess I'm in the wrongpew."

  Tom and his chums saw confronting them a tall, well-built lad--big wouldbe the more proper term, for he was big in every way. Six feet if he wasan inch, and broad in proportion. He stood regarding them without atrace of embarrassment, a stranger in a strange place, evidently.

  For a moment Tom had a wild idea that the mystery of the chair and clockwas about to be solved. He had not seen the youth before, and he mightbe a clever thief who had sneaked into the college.

  "What did you want?" asked Phil, quickly.

  "And who are you?" demanded Tom.

  "I beg your pardon," went on the stranger. "I've just arrived atRandall, and Mr. Zane showed me to my room. I left it and went outside,but when I came in again, either someone took my apartment, or, as Isaid, I'm on the wrong front stoop. Simpson is my name, Frank Simpson.I'm from California, and I've been attending Leland Stanford University,but father's business called him East permanently, and so I decided tocome to Randall. I've just arrived," he concluded.

  "Simpson," murmured Phil, wondering where he had heard the name before.

  "With a capital 'S'," put in the strange student, with a whimsicalsmile.

  "Oh, you're the fellow Jerry Jackson was speaking of," exclaimed Tom,recalling the Jersey twin's reference to some new students who were dueto arrive at Randall.

  "Much obliged to Mr. Jackson, whoever he may be," spoke the tall youth,"but I haven't the honor of his acquaintance."

  "Oh, you'll soon know him," added Sid. "And so you're from California,eh?"

  "Yes, but I think I'm going to like it here," was the response. "Theytell me there was a Freshman football game to-day. Did our boys win?" heasked, eagerly. "You see, I'm making myself right at home, calling 'em_our_ boys."

  "That's the way to do," declared Tom, who, somehow, felt a sudden likingfor the stranger. "Are you interested in football?"

  "I played--some--at Stanford," was the modest reply, "but I supposeit's too late to get on the team here. You're all made up, I hear."

  "Made and unmade," murmured Tom, in a low voice. "Jove!" he added underhis breath, as he took in the proportions of the big Californian, "whata guard or tackle he'd make!"