Frank Merriwell's Champions: or, All in the Game

“Pull, Harry!” Frank shouted.

They were on opposite sides of the slip, and so they succeeded in dragging Hans and Ephraim apart, for all that the Dutch boy made a frantic effort to hang fast to the Vermonter.

Harry had fastened into a convenient part of the Dutch lad’s trousers, while Frank had hooked onto Ephraim’s belt. The latter was pulled out easily, but the fat boy’s head and feet hung down, and Rattleton was forced to call for assistance. Fortunately, Hans’ pants were stout in that particular spot, and did not give way.

When the boxers were brought out, they sat on opposite sides of the slip, water running in streams from their clothes, and stared across at each other in ludicrous disgust and rage.

“Gol darn ye!” Ephraim gurgled, weakly shaking his fist at Hans. “Yeou was to blame fer that! Ef I could reach ye, I’d swat ye right plumb on the smeller, b’gosh!”

“Yah!” sneered Hans, shaking his fist in turn, “uf I peen so near to you as you vos to me, I vould gif you somedings dot I vouldn’t like, und don’t you remember dot!”

Then the spectators shouted with merriment once more.

CHAPTER XVI – THE CLUB MEETING

That evening a meeting of the Blue Cove Academy Athletic Club was called in the clubroom of the boat-house, and every member in the vicinity was present.

Frank and Jack were asked to attend the meeting, and they were on hand.

When the meeting had been formally opened, Kent Spencer arose and explained that it had been called for two reasons, the first matter for consideration being the charge of double dealing and treachery which he should make against their late coach, Rolf Harlow.

Then the red-haired boy, Fred Dobbs, who was secretary of the club, said he had a brief communication from Harlow, which would render it quite unnecessary for them to go through a regular investigation, and call the two witnesses, Merriwell and Diamond, who were present.

“This note,” Dobbs explained, “was left at the hotel by Harlow when he suddenly decided to get out of Blue Cove to-day. The clerk forgot it, and did not hand it to me till a short time ago, which explains how it happens that I have not spoken of it.”

He then proceeded to read it aloud. It ran as follows:

“Mr. Fred Dobbs, Secretary B. C. A. A. C.

“Dear Sir: As I am about to leave Blue Cove, I write this to let you know that your entire club, and yourself and Kent Spencer in particular, are a lot of chumps. You are easy stuff, and if it hadn’t been for Frank Merriwell, with whom I will yet get square, I would have worked you for a jolly good haul in cold cash. You must have thought me a fool to waste my time coaching you for the paltry sum you agreed to pay me. I am out for dust, and I generally get it. I intended to fix things so you could not win against Alexandria, and I should have had a good sum bet against you, being certain of winning. That was my game, and now that it is spoiled, I don’t care who knows it. I think the Alexandria boys will win anyhow. As for Merriwell’s charge that Mr. Radford was sent here by Alexandria as a spy, there is nothing in it. The Alexandria fellows knew nothing about his being here. He is a friend of mine, and, as I had advised him to bet against Blue Cove, he wished to see you in practice. That is all. Yours derisively,

“Rolf Harlow.”

This insolent and insulting note brought cries of anger from the listening lads, and when Dobbs finished reading, the entire club was in an uproar. On all sides fierce denunciations of Harlow were to be heard. The things said about Rolf were far from complimentary.

Spencer, who was president of the club, found some difficulty in calling the excited and enraged boys to order. A dozen times he hammered on the table before him with his gavel, sharply commanding them to sit down and be still. At last they subsided, grumblingly, scowling and muttering to each other.

Kent then arose and said:

“Gentlemen, we should thank Mr. Rolf Harlow for saving us the trouble of an investigation by frankly acknowledging himself the contemptible and pusillanimous scoundrel which he is. A fellow who could make such a confession without shame – indeed, a fellow who could make it boastingly, as this fellow did, is not worthy an instant’s consideration from gentlemen!”

“Right! right!” cried the boys.

“All there is to be considered in connection with this matter, then, is whether Alexandria was concerned in this dirty game or not.”

“But he says Alexandria was not,” quickly said a boy by the name of Anson Addison.

“And I would not believe him under any circumstances!” cried Fred Dobbs.

Then arose another discussion, which ended in the appointment of a committee to discover, if possible, if the Alexandria Club had resorted to such a sneaking and ungentlemanly trick.

The committee listened to what Frank and Jack had to tell of the conversation they had overheard between Harlow and the spy. They looked serious, and were of the opinion that a further investigation seemed certain to prove beyond a doubt that Alexandria, enraged by their defeat of the previous season, had resorted to unfair means to win back the title of “champions.”

The next matter that came before the meeting was the consideration of Frank Merriwell’s proposal to enter the race with his Yale Combine.

As soon as this matter was called up, Anson Addison jumped to his feet and protested against considering it while two members of the Yale Combine were present.

Frank and Jack immediately arose to withdraw. Spencer urged them to stay, saying he did not see why they should not remain, but they excused themselves and left the room.

Then followed a red-hot discussion as to the advisability of letting Merriwell and his friends row in the race. Addison argued against it, and he made many strong points. He claimed that the Yale Combine was a temporary organization, which would not be in existence long, and might not last another year. If it won the championship, there was no certainty that Blue Cove would get another opportunity to row against the combine. Alexandria might object to rowing a three-cornered race; in fact, it was almost certain Alexandria would object. There was no proof that Alexandria had not dealt fairly with Blue Cove, and if the Yale Combine won the race, and failed to row next season, Alexandria could claim Blue Cove had lost the championship, which would give them an opportunity to row against some other organization and bar Blue Cove.

Fred Dobbs, hot-headed as usual, made a spirited reply to this, but was checked by Spencer, who used better judgment, talking quietly and calmly, and showing that the things Addison pretended to fear were not likely to happen. He also showed that in case the charge of double dealing was proven against Alexandria, Blue Cove might bar them, and give them no chance to make any claim to the championship, or a right to win it back. In case this charge was proven, and Alexandria was barred, where was there another crew to row against Blue Cove on the date set for the event? The Yale Combine was the only one, as a race with another organization could not be arranged in such a short time.

Addison was neither silenced nor convinced, but the question was put to the test, and but two votes were cast against admitting the Yale Combine to the race.

Then the meeting adjourned, and several of the Blue Cove boys hastened to notify Merriwell and his friends of their decision.

Frank’s party was delighted, for here was fresh sport for them, and of a sort they had not encountered on their tour.

“I shall take a train for Washington to-morrow,” said Merriwell, “and see what I can do about securing an eight-oar shell.”

“An’ it’s oursilves will be afther gettin’ inther thrainin’ immediately afther ye return wid it, me b’y!” cried Barney.

Frank remembered the Irish lad had been handy with an oar in the old days at Fardale, while Ephraim, at one time a genuine lubber, had been to sea and could pull like a sailor. Hans was the one Frank feared would cause trouble, but he said nothing of his fears. It would take some time and hard work to hammer his crew into any sort of shape, but he was out for sport, and to him work of such a nature seemed sport.

On the following morning Frank left Blue Cove for the nearest railway station, where he boarded a train bound for Washington. He was gone more than twenty-four hours, but when he returned he announced that a boat would follow him shortly.

That very afternoon a handsome eight-oar shell was brought to Blue Cove, and the boys received it with cheers of delight and admiration, the Blue Cove lads cheering as loudly as the others.

“Look at them!” exclaimed Diamond, his eyes shining. “True sons of Old Virginia, every one of them! Hearts as big as buckets and souls as large as their entire bodies! Virginia, Virginia! mother of presidents and fairest spot of all our glorious country! Who would not be proud to call you home!”

The Blue Cove boys permitted the Yale Combine to put their shell in the boathouse, and for more than an hour the place was filled with boys who were making comparisons between the two boats. The final decision of nearly all was that, although the new boat showed it was new, there was no perceptible difference between them.

Being doubtful about Hans, Frank decided to take his trial trip under cover of darkness, and the time was set for that evening.

It was nearly nine o’clock when, with his crew in their allotted positions and himself as stroke, Merriwell gave the word, and the light shell slipped out from beneath the shadow of the boathouse and glided away upon the calm waters of Blue Cove.

To Frank’s surprise, Hans could row far better than he had expected, and the trial was fairly satisfactory, although it was apparent that the boys would need no small amount of coaching to get them into a uniform and even stroke.

How this coaching was to be done puzzled Merriwell not a little, for he knew he must be out of the boat and in position to watch every man in order to give them points.

“I’ll have to borrow a stroke of the Blue Cove chaps,” he thought. “Spencer’s work is all right, but it would overwork him to take my place occasionally.”

When they returned to the boathouse, they found Spencer and Dobbs awaiting them.

“Well,” called Kent, “how does it pan out?”

“The boat is all right,” said Frank, “but my crew is rather rocky, and I am puzzled to know how I am going to coach it. I can’t do it in the boat, but I don’t know where I’ll find a substitute to take my place occasionally. That’s what’s wanted.”

“Noel Spudd is the very man!” exclaimed Dobbs.

“Sure!” nodded Spencer.

“Who is Noel Spudd?” asked Frank.

“Fellow who was going to be on our crew, but his father would not let him stay and train,” explained Kent. “He came to the Cove this morning, and will stay after the race.”

“Can he row?”

“Can he? He’s a daisy!”

“Then he’ll do – if I can get him. See if you can fix it for me, Mr. Spencer.”

Kent promised to do so, if possible, and then the new boat was lifted out of the water for the night.

The following morning Spencer brought Noel Spudd to see Frank. Spudd proved to be a pleasant-looking, freckle-faced chap, good-natured and obliging, and he agreed to help Merriwell out, if possible, although he was anxious that his father should not find it out.

“You see, the governor is a crank,” he explained. “He has a theory that violent exercise is injurious to anybody, and he talks about enlargement of the heart and other evils that follow racing. I had to promise that I would not take part in the race before he’d let me come to the Cove to see it. I’ll keep my promise, but that will not prevent me from helping the thing along by aiding in the practice.”

So it was arranged, and Frank lost little time in getting the boys together and putting them to work.

Browning grumbled, as usual, and Rattleton declared he was praying for a chill, that he might get out of taking part in the work of training.

Spudd took Frank’s place in the boat, and Merry watched his crew row down the river, after which he mounted his wheel and followed.

For an hour Frank stood in a favorable position, watching the work of the boys in the boat and giving directions. He told each one of his faults, and how to correct them, and by the end of the hour he was well pleased with the progress made.

Of course, Merriwell did not expect to have a perfectly trained crew, capable of rowing against first-class college crews, but he believed his boys could be whipped into such shape that they would stand a fair chance of winning over Blue Cove and Alexandria.

A great surprise to him was the remarkable manner in which Hans Dunnerwust showed up at an oar. On the land, the Dutch boy was a perfect clown, but his whole manner and appearance changed the moment he got into a boat. He could row nearly as well as the best of them.

Frank felt generous in the matter of the race, for certainly Blue Cove had been most generous in its dealings with the strangers. He offered to take Harlow’s place as coach till another coach could be secured.

Spencer appreciated this, and the offer was accepted, so that afternoon found Merriwell on the river’s bank once more, shouting his commands to the Blue Cove crew.

That night Kent Spencer publicly declared that it was his conviction that the crew had improved more in one hour under Merriwell than during the entire time Harlow had coached it.

Anson Addison was the only one who was not enthusiastic. He remained silent and sulky, saying nothing, but thinking a great deal.

Addison was not well liked at Blue Cove, but he was something of an all-around athlete, and without doubt as good a man with an oar as could be found among the academy students. He was considered of great value to the academy crew.

Since his defeat in the attempt to bar the Yale Combine from the race, Addison had sulked and held himself aloof, refusing to speak to Frank and his friends, whom he pronounced “a lot of plebes, not fit associates for any gentleman.”

Addison’s friends had seen him sulky before, and Spencer advised them to let him alone, saying he would get over it after a while if he was not troubled.

CHAPTER XVII – THE EIGHT-OAR SHELL

After their work on the river, the boys enjoyed themselves lolling about in hammocks, playing tennis and strolling and talking with the pretty girls they found at the Cove.

The girls seemed to take readily to the newcomers, which added to Addison’s hostility, as a young lady on whom he had bestowed a great deal of attention was quickly appropriated by Bart Hodge.

It was a remarkable thing that, although Bart was a serious fellow, with a rather moody face, he was a great favorite with the girls. There was some sort of magnetism about him that attracted them.

Rattleton, on the other hand, although he could crack jokes and keep a party shouting with laughter, did not seem to have much success with the opposite sex. They all pronounced him a splendid fellow, but it was seldom one cared to take a stroll with him or swing with him in a hammock on the hotel veranda of a moonlight evening.

Frank and Jack often were seen taking the path that led over to the little hollow in which stood the home of Capt. Barnaby.

Elsie Bellwood was there, and no other girl could make an impression on Merriwell, although not a few of them tried.

Frank had introduced Diamond to Kate Spencer, and Jack was smitten with her immediately. It proved to be a case of mutual admiration, for Elsie told Frank that Kate had “raved” over Jack the night after her first meeting with him.

“Frank,” said Jack, as they were returning to the hotel the evening of his first meeting with Kate, “I believe Blue Cove is the place for me. I could stay here the rest of my life.”

Merriwell chuckled softly.

“How long have you felt that way?” he asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. But this, Merriwell, is Old Virginia, and I am on my native soil. I feel like myself once more.”

“I am glad of that,” declared Merriwell, “for you were like anything but yourself by the time we reached California. I never saw anything make such a change in a fellow as that trip across the continent did in you. You began to grumble a little by the time we had passed through Jersey, and you grew worse and worse till San Francisco was reached. By that time there was no getting along with you in peace. But when we turned toward the East again, you grumbled less and less till Virginia was reached. When you knew you were in Virginia once more, you were so supremely happy that it was utterly impossible to ruffle your temper. Even Ward Hammond and his gang did not seem to stir you up as you would have been ordinarily. And now – now – What do you think of Kate Spencer, old fellow?”

“She’s a darling!”

Frank had sprung the question so suddenly that the answer came from Jack before the latter realized what he was saying. When Frank shouted with laughter, Jack felt the hot blood rush to his face, but he doggedly said:

“She is that! Laugh if you want to! I don’t care!”

“It’s plain it’s not so much Blue Cove as what you have found at Blue Cove that is attracting you and making you feel as if you could stay here the rest of your life.”

“I don’t know but you are right,” confessed Jack, honestly.

“Well, I don’t blame you,” declared Frank. “Kate is a fine girl – not quite like Elsie, but a fine girl, all the same.”

While Frank and his friends were enjoying themselves and getting ready for the race, Blue Cove was keeping up a hot correspondence with Alexandria, the club of the latter place having protested against admitting the Yale Combine to the race.

Blue Cove insisted, and the mail bore letters each way. At last Dobbs, who as secretary was carrying on the correspondence with Alexandria, plainly hinted that the eight of the latter club could row in a three-cornered race or not at all.

That brought a proposal from Alexandria that the Yale Combine be admitted with the understanding that it was to row for honors only. If it won over both Blue Cove and Alexandria, it was not to claim the championship of the Potomac. In that case, the championship remained with Blue Cove. But if Alexandria led at the finish, the championship was to go to the latter place.

This was more liberal than the boys of Blue Cove had expected, and they readily accepted the terms, so that an agreement was made without delay.

From this proposal from Alexandria, however, it was plain she expected to win over both her rivals. Otherwise she would not have been so liberal.

“She’ll have to hustle if she does that trick,” said Frank, when he had heard of the final settlement of terms, to which he had acceded readily enough, as he and his friends were out for the sport of the race, and did not wish to carry away the title of champions.

“Marruk me worrud,” said Barney Mulloy, “it’s some sort av a thrick Alixandry is up to, ur it’s nivver a bit she’d make such a proposal. Look out fer her!”

One thing in connection with the regular training for the race proved somewhat unpleasant for all the boys. They possessed hearty appetites, and Merriwell laid down a course of diet to which he insisted that they should adhere. For Browning and Dunnerwust, this was particularly hard, as each possessed an enormous appetite, and was in the habit of satisfying it to the fullest extent whenever possible.

“When I have a chill, I can’t eat, and when I don’t have a chill, Merry won’t let me eat,” grumbled the big fellow. “Sport! Is that what you call it? Well, when I get back to Old Yale I’ll forever forswear taking part in anything that resembles sport.”

“Yaw,” grunted Hans, in deep disgust, “dese may pe fun vor me, put don’t you pelief me! Mein stomach veels shust like a raw tog could ead me. You don’d peen vell ven mein stomach veels dot vay, eh, Prowning?”

“Say, yeou fellers make me tired, b’gosh!” burst forth Ephraim. “I ruther guess I’ve got jest as big appertite as any other critter livin’, but I don’t growl an’ kick all ther time. It ain’t goin’ ter be forever.”

“You don’d know apout dot,” squawked Hans, growing excited. “Ven you peen done dese race mit, maypie Vrankie got someding else indo you. Firginia peen a long tistance py Yale Goallege. I veel shust like takin’ a drain und valkin’ all der vay to New York.”

“Yeou make yerselves miserbul by thinkin’ an’ talkin’ about it so much. Why don’t ye try ter fergit it?”

“I don’d peen unaple to done dot. Dot eadin’ dinks apout me all der dime. Id peen awful ven you felt your packpone efry dime you put your handt mein stomach on.”

The Dutch boy finished with a lugubrious groan, which was faintly echoed by Bruce, while Ephraim went away laughing.

Each day Dunnerwust seemed to grow more wild-eyed and desperate. Frank had given strict orders at the hotel, so it was impossible for any of his crew to get food between meals, and only certain kinds of food could be found on the table at regular meals.

Hans became so ravenous that he was seen to stand glaring at a cow for an hour at a time, his mouth watering as he tried to estimate how many steaks could be obtained from her; and he often went across the Cove to the house of a settler who kept pigs. When asked why he stood staring at the pigs so much, he answered:

“I peen tried to vigger oudt how much bork und peans dose bigs vould made uf dey peen gooked dot vay. I veel shust like one uf dose bigs could ead der whole uf me. Id vos dreatful ven you haf dot gone veeling py der mittle my stomach uf. Dunder und blitzens! uf I don’d got nottings to ead britty soon, you vill starf to death!”

The owner of the pigs became suspicious of the Dutch lad, and fearing Hans would try to steal one of the animals, he drove him away.

Three days before the time set for the great race, there was a “hop” at the little hotel. The dining-room floor had been cleared and polished, and an orchestra of musicians formed from the musical lads of Blue Cove Academy.

It was a happy night for Blue Cove. All the young folks stopping in the vicinity assembled at the hotel, and when the music struck up, the floor quickly swarmed with smiling lads and pretty lassies.

Elsie Bellwood was there, and of course Frank claimed her for the first waltz. As they glided over the floor to the soothing strains of music, Elsie felt that were she to live thousands of years, never could she be happier than she was at that moment. Frank’s strong arm was about her, her hand was in his, and she gave herself up to his guiding will on the floor, as she had sometimes dreamed of giving herself up to be guided by him through life.

Never had Elsie waltzed so well before, and never had Frank waltzed better, so it was not strange that they attracted attention and were universally admired.

Next to Frank and Elsie, the most graceful dancers on the floor were Bart Hodge and his partner, the pretty girl whom Anson Addison so much admired.

Addison had claimed the first waltz with her, and great was his rage when Hodge appeared and reminded her that she had promised him that dance. As they whirled away, leaving Addison standing alone, the latter ground his teeth and vowed vengeance.

When the dance was over, Addison found an opportunity to speak to Hodge.

“Come out,” he said; “come out alone and fight me – if you dare!”

“I’ll do it – with pleasure,” nodded Hodge, promptly. “Lead the way.”

Then he followed at Addison’s heels.

Kent Spencer had heard Addison muttering threats, and he was watching the fellow. When he saw him speak to Bart, the manner of the two lads was enough to betray what was coming, so Spencer hastened to find Diamond.

“Come on!” he excitedly whispered. “There’s a scrap in the air!”

That was enough for Jack. If a fight was going to take place, he wanted to see it; if it was possible, he would wish to take a hand in it.

“Go ahead,” he said; “I’m after you.”

When they reached the outer air, they saw two figures moving away in the direction of the academy ground, one following the other.

“They are going to fight over on the ball ground,” said Spencer. “Come ahead, and we’ll get there another way.”

Jack followed, and they made a half circle, coming around to the ground on the side opposite the hotel.

By the time they arrived there, Hodge and Addison were hard at it, having stripped off their coats and vests. They were striking, grappling, struggling, falling, getting up, breaking away and going at it again. Spencer and Diamond heard the sound of their blows and panting breaths before the fighting lads were seen.