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It only meant that Hillton had won by a yard and that the final score stood: Hillton, 21; St. Eustace, 22; Shrewsburg, 43.
CHAPTER III
IN 15 BRADLEY
It was getting dark in the study of No. 15 Bradley Hall, and Wayne laid his book down on the window seat and fell to looking idly out of the window. The broad expanse of the Hudson River was visible for several miles, and its quiet surface reflected all the tones of gold and crimson with which the western sky was aglow. Far to the left a little dark spot marked the location of the railway station, and the steel rails, stretching to the southward, caught the sunset glint here and there and looked like shafts of fire. The meadow and the campus were still green, and the station road was blotched with the purple shadows of hedge and tree. To the left a tiny steamer was creeping from sight beyond the island and the far-stretching marsh across the water was brightly yellow with autumn grass.
Inside the room the shadows were beginning to gather wherever the glow from the two windows failed to reach. They had already hidden the bookcase near the hall door and Dons armchair was only a formless hulk in the gloom. The door to the bedroom was ajar and through it the shadows were silently creeping, for that room was on the back of the building and its one window gave but scant light at sunset time. The study was a comfortable-looking den. There was a big green-topped table in the center, flanked by easy-chairs, and holding a student lamp, an ornamental inkstand, a number of books, and a miscellaneous litter of paper, pens, golf balls, gloves, and caps. A lounge, rather humpy from long and hard usage, disputed a corner of the apartment with a low bookcase whose top afforded a repository for photographs and a couple of hideous vases which for years past had gone with the room. There was a fireplace on one side which to-day held no fire. The mantel was decorated with more photographs and three pewter mugs, Waynes trophies of the cinder track. Some tennis racquets, three broken and repaired golf sticks, and a riding whip were crossed in a bewildering fashion above a picture of an English rowing regatta, and on either side hung framed shingles of the Senior Debating Society and the Hillton Academy Golf Club. Other pictures adorned the walls here and there; two businesslike straight-backed chairs were placed where they could not fail to be fallen over in the dark; and a bright-colored but somewhat threadbare carpet was on the floor. There were two windows, for No. 15 was a corner study, and in each was a comfortable seat generously furnished with pillows. At this moment both seats were occupied. In one lounged Wayne; in the other Don was still trying to study by the fading light. His left foot was perched carefully on a cushion, for the injured ankle was not yet fully strong, although nearly a week had elapsed since the cross-country run and his accident. Finally Don, too, laid aside his book.
Want to light up, Wayne?
No, lets be lazy; its so jolly in the twilight. I like to watch sunsets, dont you? Theyre sort of mysterious and and sad.
Hello! laughed Don. You must be a bit homesick.
No, not exactly, though the sunset did look a bit like some we have down home. I wish you could see a Virginia sunset, Don.
Arent they a good deal like any other sunset?
No, I dont think so. From our house at home the sun always sets across a little valley and back of a hill with a lot of dark trees on it. And theres always a heap of blue wood smoke in the air and the woods are kind of hazy, you know. Wish I was there, he added, with a tinge of melancholy in his voice.
Cheer up, said Don. Youll feel better after supper. Youre homesick. I used to be, my first year. Used to think Id give most anything for a sight of the Charles River and the marshes, as they look from the library window at home. But I got over it. When I began to feel sad and virtuous Id go out and swat a football or jump over things. Thats the best way to get rid of homesickness, Wayne; go in for athletics and get your blood running right. You dont have much chance to think about home when youre leaping hurdles or trying to bust your own record for the hundred yards.
I should think not, laughed Wayne. I know I wasnt homesick the other day when I was chasing around country and jumping over those silly hedges; but I reckon Id rather be a bit homesick than have my legs ache and my lungs burst.
They wont when youre in training, answered Don. But you did great work that day; we were awfully proud of you.
So you say, and I suppose its all right, only I keep telling you that I wasnt trying to win the team race; I was just trying to beat that blamed St. Eustace chump who laughed at me when I was sitting comfortably on the ground there. Just as though any fellow mightnt fall over those old hedges, hang him!
Well, dont you mind, answered Don soothingly. He isnt laughing now, you can bet; that laugh cost his school the race.
Wayne made no reply. He had gathered the pillows in a heap under his head and was lying on his back nursing his knees. It was almost dark outdoors and in the room the shadows held full sway. Across from Dons window the lights in Masters Hall were coming out and throwing dim shafts upon the broad gravel path.
Wayne, I wish youd go into training for the track team, continued Don. All you need is some good hard practice to make you a dandy runner. Why dont you?
Whats the good? asked Wayne carelessly. I have hard enough work as it is trying to learn my lessons without losing a lot of time running around a track. Besides, its so tiresome.
Dont talk nonsense, answered Don. You have hard work with your lessons because you wont study, and you know it. You could do a lot of training in the time you spend now in loafing. And, look here, Wayne, if you go in for athletics you can study a lot better; really. I know; Ive tried both ways. And besides, you wont have to run around a track much until long after winter term begins; hard work doesnt start until February. Of course, if youve made up your mind to be a duffer, I wont say anything more about it. But Im captain of the track team, and I know you would make a bully runner and I want you to help me out if you will. Were going to have a hard time next spring to find good men for the mile and half-mile events, and if we dont win one of them Im afraid St. Eustace or Collegiate is sure of first place. I wish old Hillton might come out on top next year. Think of it, Wayne, this is my second year as captain, and my last, for I shant take it again, and if we are beaten next spring it will be a nice record to leave behind, wont it? Two defeats and no victories! Hang it, weve got to win, Wayne!
Wayne laughed lazily.
Whats so funny? demanded Don rather crossly.
You youre so serious. The idea of caring so much about whether we get beaten or not next spring. Why, its months away yet. If youve got to worry about it, why not wait awhile?
Don was too vexed to reply and Wayne went on in his careless, good-natured tones.
You fellows up North here are so crazy about athletics. Of course, theyre good enough in their way, I reckon, but seems to me that you dont think about much else. I dont mean that you dont study youre all awful grinds but you never have any time for for
What loafing? asked Don sarcastically.
No, not exactly that, but but oh, hunting and riding and being sociable generally. Do you shoot?