CHAPTER IX
HUNTING FOR A FRESHMAN
The contests were to take place on a Wednesday evening. On the Monday previous all the Yale athletes went to New York.
Special permission from the faculty had to be obtained for this absence from the college, but there was no difficulty in getting that, as there is hardly a professor at Yale who does not have a strong interest in athletic events.
As New Haven is but two hours' ride from New York, it might have been possible for the students to attend to all their duties on the Wednesday, and still get to New York in time for the events, but that would never do for the contestants.
Nobody knows better than men who train how easy it is for an athlete to get thrown out of order by a change in diet and air. The finer the training the greater care there has to be.
Therefore, the managing committee for Yale felt that it was absolutely necessary to give the contestants at least two whole days in New York City, in order to get used to the slight change that would result in their leaving familiar quarters in New Haven.
Students who were not contestants in the intercollegiate sports were not allowed to leave New Haven so early, and so it was a comparatively small party that went with Frank and the other members of the committee to rooms that had been engaged for them in the Murray Hill Hotel.
It would probably have amused an outsider if he could have known the great care taken to prevent those students from being harmed by illness or anything else.
They were grown men and able to take care of themselves ordinarily, but from the time they went into training they were like so many children in charge of a nurse.
They were informed as to just what they could eat and what they must let alone. Not one of them was permitted to smoke, and every one of them was required to do just so many hours of exercise of some kind every day.
While they remained in New Haven it was no very difficult matter to see to it that every one of the contestants obeyed the regulations of the managing committee.
In New York it was not quite so easy, for the members of the committee were a good deal occupied in discussing arrangements with the committees from other colleges who were quartered at different hotels.
When it happened that all the committee had to be away from the Murray Hill at the same time, the oversight of the Yale crew was left to Browning, who was the most experienced athlete among them.
There was not much for him to do, for each one of the contestants had a programme of exercise laid out for him.
There was to be just so much walking, and at certain hours, and the rest of the time, except for meals, was to be put in in resting.
It was understood that as often as possible the entire crowd should walk together, and this they did on the first evening after their arrival.
They went up Fifth Avenue to Central Park, and walked rapidly for fully an hour among its winding paths; then they returned to their hotel, had baths, and went early to bed.
During the next day, Tuesday, the contestants were left pretty much to themselves, as the members of the committee were away most of the time.
After one of the meetings with the committees from other colleges, the Yale managers, finding that a number of things had to be done, divided up the work and separated.
Three or four hours later Rowland and Frank met on the way to the hotel where their companions were staying. They reported to each other what they had done, and then fell as usual into discussing the prospects for victory.
"I saw the Cornell tug of war team out for a run," said Rowland.
"Ah! What do they look like?" Frank responded, without much show of interest.
"Beef!" said Rowland.
"Not dangerous, then, eh?"
"Why, no, I presume not. They look as if they could carry you fellows around on one hand, but it seemed to me they were clumsy in their running."
"I don't fear them," said Frank; "I'd heard from some other fellows that Cornell was counting on weight more than anything else, and as you know, I take more stock in head work."
"There's this to think of, though," remarked Rowland, "if a beefy team gets the fall on you by the fraction of a second, you simply can't stand it. That's the time when dead weight will tell."
"The Cornell beefeaters won't get the drop on Yale," returned Frank, quietly.
"No, I guess not, and for that matter, so far as I can hear, there seems to be no doubt in anybody's mind that the real contest will be between Yale and Princeton."
"Have you seen the Harvard men?" asked Frank.
"No, but we know all about them, don't we?"
"I think so. They're a game lot, but I don't think they can stand against us. The fact is, Rowland, I'm thinking more of the other events than of the tug of war just now."
"So? I would have supposed you would be capable of thinking of nothing else."
Frank shook his head.
"The tug of war doesn't worry me a little bit," he said, "but as one of the managers I should feel pretty badly if we fell down on everything else."
"Oh, we're not going to fall down; there are two or three events, you know, in which we are almost certain to win. The high leap, for example – "
"That's just what I've been thinking of," interrupted Frank.
"Why, are you afraid of Higgins?"
Higgins was a member of the freshman class who had shown most unusual power in jumping, and had easily beaten all the other Yale students who had tried for that event.
"I hear that Cornell has a man named Stover," said Frank, "who thinks he can beat everybody at the high jump."
"Yes, I've heard of him, too," Rowland responded, "but what of it? Higgins has broken the record in private practice – "
"That doesn't make it certain that he will do as well at the armory."
"No; but he's in good condition, isn't he?"
"First rate."
"Then I wouldn't worry about him."
"I'm not worrying exactly, and in any case, if our fellows do their best and we get beaten, there's nothing to complain of."
At this point in their conversation the two arrived at the Murray Hill Hotel. They went at once to the suite of rooms that had been engaged for the athletes, and found most of the contestants reading or dozing.
A few were out for a walk. All the students asked eager questions as to the final arrangements and so on. After several questions had been asked and answered, Rowland remarked:
"There'll be hard times in Princeton this winter if the orange doesn't get most of the cups."
"Are the Princeton men offering odds?" asked Browning.
"Not quite so strong as that, but they're putting up loads of money."
"Is the betting any heavier than usual?" asked Frank.
"Perhaps not," Rowland answered, "but if not I must have come across the betting crowd. It seemed as if they had begged and borrowed every dollar they could lay hold of and had brought it here to put up on the different events."
"How is the betting going?" asked Browning.
"I didn't pay very much attention to it, but it seemed to be about even as between Princeton and Yale on the tug of war, and on some of the other events the Princeton men were asking for odds rather than giving them.
"What impressed me most was that it looked as if it was the Princeton crowd that had the most money."
"Why," asked Frank, in a surprised tone, "it wasn't the Princeton contestants who were doing the betting, was it?"
"No, but some of the students."
"That's queer."
"Why?"
"Here it is Tuesday afternoon and the Princeton fellows who are going to see the contests are not due before to-morrow afternoon. It doesn't seem to me probable that the Princeton faculty would let the general run of students come up here at this time any more than the Yale faculty would allow our men to come."
"Can't help that," said Rowland, "there's a raft of Princeton men in town going around with orange ribbons in their buttonholes and hunting for chances to bet money against Yale, Harvard and Cornell."
Frank made no response, but remained for a moment in thought, while the others continued to talk about the betting. Presently Frank asked where Higgins and Mellor were.
Mellor was another freshman athlete. He was a giant in stature, and one of the best wrestlers that had ever been seen at Yale.
There was a good deal of confidence that he would win the cup for wrestling, for from all that could be learned of the wrestlers representing the other colleges, there was no one who could compare with him in strength, and his skill seemed to be all that would be needed.
"They're taking in the town," answered Browning.
"What!" exclaimed Frank, aghast.
"Oh, not in any improper sense," said Browning. "They're just out for a walk, and I didn't see any objection to their taking it in such a way that they could see some of the principal streets."
"No, that's all right," responded Frank, in a tone of relief; "when are they due back?"
"In about half an hour."
More than half an hour passed, and neither Higgins nor Mellor had shown up at that time. Rowland and Hill were away on some other business concerned with the management.
Frank was getting anxious. He could not have said exactly why, for so far as Mellor and Higgins were concerned, he had a good deal of respect for them, but he was fearful of accidents, as if they were little children unable to care for themselves.
He did not betray his anxiety to Browning or the others, but remarked after a time that he had another errand to do, and went away, leaving instructions that no contestant should leave the hotel until his return.
Then he went down to Madison Square and stood for a moment looking doubtfully at the several hotels in that vicinity. He knew that the Princeton athletes had had rooms engaged at the Fifth Avenue, but this thought was not in his mind at the moment.
"The Hoffman House," he was thinking, "is one of the most celebrated hotels in New York, and a place to which all strangers like to go."
As it was the time of year when days are short, it was already dark as night, although it was yet some time before the usual evening dinner hour.
Frank strolled across to the Hoffman House, and went in at the main entrance. A number of men were in the lobby, but apparently there were no students among them.
He went slowly past group after group, and turned at length to the barroom.
This place was famous at that time for its remarkable collection of valuable paintings and statuary; it was often referred to jocosely as the "art gallery." Every stranger in New York regarded it as one of the most interesting sights of the town.
It was pretty well filled with customers when Frank entered, but everything was quiet and orderly.
At the farther side of the room, and partly concealed by the bar, which took up the very middle, was a group of young men just on the point of leaving by the door that opens upon Twenty-fifth Street.
"Too bad you've got to hurry," one of them remarked in a pleasant voice.
"I'm overdue at the hotel already," said another, "and must get back before they become anxious about me."
Frank could not see the speaker, but he recognized the voice as that of Higgins.
"He has no business in here, confound him!" thought Frank, angrily. "No one but a freshman would go into a barroom even out of curiosity, at such a time as this."
He crossed the room, intending to speak to Higgins and walk back to the hotel with him, and give him some earnest advice on the way.
Higgins was a little in advance of the group as they went out, and so Frank did not catch up with him before they were all out upon the sidewalk.
He noticed that all the men who had been speaking with Higgins wore orange ribbons in their buttonholes, but it struck him, too, that somehow they did not look like students.
He had no time to reflect upon this doubt, for just as he stepped out upon the dark street he saw one of the crowd pretend to stumble and fall rather heavily against Higgins.
"I beg pardon," this man said, quickly.
"It's all right," Higgins responded, as he staggered to the curb under the force of the shove.
At that instant Frank saw another in the crowd making a movement which showed that he was going to trip Higgins and cause him to fall.
The attempt was not made, for acting instantly upon his impulse, Frank leaped from the doorway and caught the fellow a terrible blow upon the side of the face.
It sent him reeling halfway across the street before he finally lost his balance and fell full length.
The attack was so unexpected and sudden that most of the others in the group did not stir for a second.
There was one exception to this.
It was a man who had edged forward in order to make sure of tripping Higgins if the first man should fail, and he was so intent upon accomplishing this that he did not stop when Frank's form shot past him to attack the other.
Therefore when Frank wheeled about to defend himself in case the others should fall upon him, he saw this man just in the act of giving Higgins a violent kick upon the shins.
It was all happening so quickly that at this instant Higgins had just made his reply to the apology of the man who had shoved him, and was only beginning to regain his balance.
The kick in the shins did the business for him. He fell upon his hands and knees, and just then Frank struck out again.
He was never so thoroughly aroused in his life, and his blows fell like rain upon the Princeton man's face and chest. The latter would have suffered a square knockdown if he had not been standing so that he fell against his comrades.
The others, recovering a little from their first astonishment, made a feeble effort to close in on Frank, but it would have taken more than them to stop him then.
He beat them off vigorously, striking without mercy at any one who came within reach.
"Cheese it, there's a cop!" exclaimed one of the party suddenly, and they all took to their heels.
Higgins by this time had got up and was supporting himself against a lamp-post.
"Can you walk?" asked Frank, quickly.
"I guess so," responded Higgins, so surprised that he could hardly speak.
Frank took him by the arm and marched him back to the barroom, through which they went to the lobby, and then out by the ladies' entrance upon Twenty-sixth Street.
The scrimmage had taken place so quickly and quietly that it had attracted no attention within the barroom, and as Frank and Higgins were not followed, it seemed probable that the cry of alarm about a policeman coming was false.
CHAPTER X
THE FINDING OF MELLOR
"Now, Higgins," said Frank, rather sharply, as they were well out on Twenty-sixth Street, "what have you been up to?"
"Why," answered Higgins, hesitatingly, for he had not yet half recovered from the surprise of the event, "nothing but swapping boasts with those Princeton fellows and refusing to drink with them."
"It's small business for a Yale student to boast of what he can do," exclaimed Frank, in disgust.
Higgins bit his lip and said nothing; although he was a freshman of but few months' standing, he had already learned that in athletic matters the word of a manager is law, and that a student in training would no sooner dispute his manager or trainer than a soldier would dispute an officer.
"And did you refuse their drinks?" demanded Frank in the same sharp tone.
"On my honor, Merriwell, I did. Do you suppose I would take such risks just previous to – "
"Don't talk to me about risks," Frank interrupted; "here it is only the day before the contests, and you're not back at the hotel at the time you're ordered to be."
"I know that," Higgins responded humbly, "and I'm sorry for it, but I didn't realize how the time was going by after I got in with those fellows. They're very pleasant chaps, and I must say that I can't understand for the life of me why it was you sailed into them so."
Frank was too irritated to explain for a moment. It was very seldom that he spoke as sharply as this to a comrade, and he would not have done so on this occasion if he had not been so anxious for the success of Yale in every possible event.
As they walked along he noticed that Higgins was perfectly steady, and although there was a slight flush on his face, there was no sign that he had been drinking. The flush undoubtedly was due to mortification and excitement.
"See here, Higgins," said Frank, at length, in a quieter tone, "don't you know that those Princeton students, as you call them, were trying to disable you?"
"I never dreamed of such a thing."
"It's a fact."
"How do you know, Merriwell?"
"I saw the attempt made, and for that matter you got kicked in the shins and tumbled over, didn't you?"
"Yes, but I supposed that was an accident of the scrimmage."
"It was nothing of the kind; it was a put-up job, and if I hadn't sailed in it might have lamed you so that you couldn't jump. That was what they were after."
"Whew!" exclaimed Higgins. "I think I'm a good Yale man, if I am a freshman, and I hate Princeton and all the rest of them, but, on my honor, Merriwell, I didn't think that a student of any college would resort to such a low-down trick."
"I don't believe it, either," said Frank.
"Well, that – "
"What made you think those fellows were students?"
"Why, they said they were; they gave the year of their class, which made them out to be seniors. They had big wads of money that they wanted to bet, and they got into conversation with me by asking what odds would put up on myself in the high jump."
Frank grunted to express his disgust, and asked:
"Did they talk like students?"
"I thought so."
"I don't believe they were," said Frank, "for there was something in their manner that didn't make them seem like students, and besides that, I can't believe any more than you that Princeton men would try to win out in these contests by deliberately disabling any of our fellows.
"Of course, I can understand how, in an exciting match like a game of football, a man's temper might get the best of him, but to try to lame a fellow in cold blood hours before the beginning of the event is a little too much for me to think of when it comes to a student, whether he's from Princeton, Harvard or anywhere else."
"Then, who were these fellows?" asked Higgins.
"They may be New York gamblers, for all I know," Frank answered, "but in any case I think they are men not connected with Princeton in any way, who are trying to make sure of their bets by disabling the leading contestants in the other colleges."
"Then but for you I suppose I might have been seriously lamed?"
"I don't know, Higgins; I'm taking no credit for what I did, but I hope you see that you made a grave mistake in not coming back to the Murray Hill on time."
"I do, and will look out that such a thing doesn't happen again."
"Where's Mellor?" asked Frank, suddenly.
"I don't know."
"Didn't he start out with you?"
"Yes, but we didn't keep together long."
"Where did he go?"
"We separated at the corner of Thirty-second Street and Broadway. I was for going down Broadway, but he said that he wanted to see something of the Tenderloin district."
"The Tenderloin!" exclaimed Frank, with a groan.
Instinctively he hurried his steps.
"Hasn't Mellor turned up yet?" asked Higgins, hurrying along with him.
"No, and unless he's more careful than you were there's no telling what mischief he may have got into."
Higgins looked as penitent as if he had been guilty of a serious crime. The flush on his face had entirely gone now, and he was quite pale.
"See here," exclaimed Frank, cheerfully, "you've had your scolding, so now brace up and forget it. If you feel the slightest soreness from that kick, give yourself a good rubbing when you get to the hotel, and go to bed."
"Aren't you coming?" asked Higgins, for Frank had stopped short.
"No."
"What shall I say to the fellows?"
"Nothing; or you might tell them that I met you and ordered you to the hotel; if they ask for me, you don't know where I am, and that's all there is to it."
Higgins nodded and went on obediently to the Murray Hill.
Frank, boiling with indignation and sore with anxiety, set off toward the corner of Thirty-second Street and Broadway. He had no foolish idea that he would find Mellor there, but as that was the last place where he had been seen, it seemed to be the most sensible point from which to begin a search for him.
When he arrived at the corner he looked about a moment and then entered a hotel, and going to the telephone closet, rang up the Murray Hill and asked for Browning.
"Bruce," he said, when he heard a familiar hello in the receiver at his ear, "has Mellor returned?"
"No, but Higgins has."
"All right. Good-by."
"Hold on, Frank."
"Well?"
"Are you coming back soon?"
"I don't know."
"Rowland and Hill expect you to take a run with us up the avenue this evening."
"I'll be there if I can."
"What are you up to, anyway?"
"That's my business, old fellow; say nothing about it, but if I don't turn up, go ahead with your run without me."
With this Frank hung up the receiver without giving Bruce any further chance to ask questions.
His object in not explaining what he was about was to prevent any of the contestants from worrying. He was pretty sure that Higgins would not speak of his own adventure, and he did not care to have even cool-headed Browning suspect that there was anything so serious in the wind as a deliberate plot to disable Yale athletes.
It seemed to Frank as if he had never been in so serious a situation. There had been times in his travels when one adventure or another had brought him in danger of his life, but at such times his mind was usually easy; now he was oppressed by responsibility and anxiety for others.
The credit of Yale depended upon the good showing at the intercollegiate games; whether they won or lost was not so much of consequence as that the Yale crowd should do their best.
As one of the managers, Frank felt responsible for the good condition of every man in the party.
He set out down Sixth Avenue looking to right and left and glancing in at the door of every saloon he passed.
Near the juncture of Sixth Avenue and Broadway are a number of places where gamblers resort, and it was in one of these that Frank half suspected and feared to find Mellor.
Business was lively in all these places at this hour. Men of all conditions were at the bar discussing all manner of sporting events.
Once in a while, as Frank made his way through the crowded barrooms, he overheard some remark about the coming college games, but it did not seem as if the professional sports took very much interest in them, and nothing occurred to give him any clew as to Mellor's whereabouts.
He continued on down the avenue, running through every place he came across, until he got as far as Twenty-third Street. There he paused, feeling rather discouraged.
It is worse than looking for a needle in a haystack to hunt for a man in New York.
Farther down the avenue there were other saloons, but he had already passed out of the district most frequented by gamblers.
He had no other theory on which to pursue his search, and it seemed to him that it might be better to return to the hotel and let Mellor turn up or not, as it might happen.
A public telephone sign caught his eye across the way, and he again went over and rang up the Murray Hill. This time it was Rowland that he asked for, and when Rowland was at the 'phone Frank told him briefly that he was on the hunt for Mellor.
"Don't mention it to anybody," Frank added, quickly.
"Have you any idea what's become of him?" asked Rowland.
"Mighty little," answered Frank. "But if he hasn't returned to the hotel yet I'll make another short trip before I give it up."
Mellor had not returned, and the conversation with Rowland was not continued.
Frank retraced his steps up the avenue, but this time he did not make so careful a search as he had before; he simply glanced in at various doors and passed on.
At length he turned in at Thirtieth Street, intending to call at a drinking resort on Broadway, which was known to be popular with gamblers.
He had taken but a few steps when a sound of laughter attracted him and he paused suddenly. It came from his right hand.
He noticed that he was standing near the side door of a saloon which he thought he had thoroughly investigated on his downward trip.
He remembered then that he had not looked in at any of the so-called private rooms at the back.
This laughter evidently came from such a room, and he was quite certain that he distinguished Mellor's voice. He waited a moment until the laughter ceased and then he heard this in thick accents:
"Shet 'em up 'gain! I c'n rasshle any man 'n Nighted Shtatesh, drunk er shober."
It was Mellor's voice, and Frank's heart sank like lead. For one miserable instant he was in doubt as to what he had better do.
His disgust and anger were so great that he felt like leaving Mellor to his fate, for it would serve the freshman right to let him continue filling himself up and so lose all chance of making a decent appearance in the contests of the following evening.
Then it occurred to Frank that after all there might be some little hope that Mellor could pull himself together sufficiently to make a good effort.
In any event he was a Yale student, and as such Frank felt bound to look after him; so after the slightest hesitation he entered the side door of the saloon and opened a door leading into the small room from which had come the laughter and the sound of Mellor's voice.
He saw the big freshman with a silly smile on his face seated at a table, holding an empty glass unsteadily in his hand, and trying to talk with three companions, each of whom wore a rosette of orange-colored ribbon upon the lapel of his coat.
None of the three had been in the crowd with Higgins, so far as Frank could remember their faces.
They did not look up when Frank entered, for they supposed, as Mellor himself did, that the bartender was coming in to get an order.
"Fill 'em up!" said Mellor, stupidly, rapping his glass upon the table. "Letsh have 'nother round."
His eyes were bleary, and although he glanced at Frank he failed to recognize him. The latter stood still for a second or two to control his indignation; before he spoke the bartender entered with a bottle of champagne, the cork of which was already drawn.
"I suppose it's the same, gents?" he said, in a businesslike tone.
"Shame old Shampaggeny water," returned Mellor, holding his glass upside down.
One of the men at the table reached over and righted Mellor's glass, which the waiter promptly proceeded to fill.
"Here'sh ter good ol' Yale!" stammered Mellor, bringing the glass to his lips with the aid of the man who had helped him to hold it steady.
Frank could remain quiet no longer. He reached over the table, and with a sweep of his arm knocked the glass from Mellor's hand and sent it flying against the wall, where it broke in a hundred pieces.