style="font-size:15px;"> “Brace up, old man!” he muttered huskily. “Why, I wouldn’t have Merriwell see you like this for a fortune!”
He passed out through the gate with others and started away. Then he bethought himself and turned back to where a carriage, containing a driver, waited. He got into the carriage.
“Go on,” he growled.
“But the young lady, sir,” said the driver; “your sister.”
“Oh, yes!” mumbled Chester. “I had forgotten her. We’ll wait for her. Darrell is a thundering fool!”
“I beg your pardon, sir?” said the driver.
“Nothing that concerns you,” growled Arlington, and he sat like a graven image, waiting for June.
CHAPTER II – DICK STOPS A RUNAWAY
The sweat-stained, bruised, battered, triumphant Fardale lads peeled off their football armor in the dressing-room beneath the stand. Earl Gardner was there, barely able to walk, but supremely happy. Dick was happy, too. Scudder, partly recovered from a collapse, was shaking hands with everybody.
“It was a shame!” said Ted Smart in fun. “I hated to see us do it! They were so sure of the game that it seemed like robbery to take it.”
“By Jim! I’ll be sore to-morrer!” piped Obediah Tubbs. “Never got no sech drubbin’ before sence dad used to lay me over his knee an’ swat me with the razor-strop.”
“But you put Glennon on Queer Street,” smiled Dick. “And that was the finest thing I ever saw happen to a bruiser like him.”
“He! he! he!” came from the fat boy. “I kinder thought I might git called down fer some of that business, but the empire didn’t dast say a word.”
“I should opine not,” put in Brad Buckhart, the Texan. “He permitted Glennon to start the slugging-match, and he couldn’t say anything when it became too hot for the big tough.”
“Both umpire and referee were against us,” grunted Bob Singleton.
“But we won out against all odds, fellows,” said Dick cheerily. “And I am proud of you!”
“It’s us that sus-sus-sus-should be pup-pup-pup-proud of you!” chattered Chip Jolliby, his protruding Adam’s apple bobbing as it always did when he was excited and tried to talk fast.
“That’s right! that’s right!” cried the boys. “Captain Dick was the one who turned the trick and won the game!”
“No, fellows,” said Dick earnestly. “I did what I could, but to no one individual belongs the glory of this game. It was a victory won by the splendid courage and staying qualities of the whole team. It was the kind of courage that wins great battles. It showed that this team is made up of the right kind of stuff. We were stronger at the finish than at the start, while they were weaker. It’s staying power that counts.”
Dick was right. And it is “staying power” that counts in the great game of life, just the same as in football. A fellow may have ability and be brilliant in his accomplishments, but if he has not “staying power” he will be beaten out every time by the tireless, persistent, dogged plodder.
The boys were not able to bathe and be rubbed down there, so they hustled on their clothes and prepared to make for the hotel, where they might cleanse and refresh themselves after their successful struggle.
“Thunder!” moaned Tubbs. “How hungry I be! Don’t think I ever was so hungry before in all my life.”
Then it was that some of the faithful appeared with pies of various sorts, procured at a bakery in town, and delivered them to the fat boy, who was so fond of pies that he ate all he could even while in training, the one who presented them making a humorous speech.
When the boys piled into the big carryall that was to take them to the hotel Obediah had his lap full of pies. Holding one in each hand, he proceeded to devour them, a supremely happy look on his full-moon face. Along the route he was observed with amusement, and he laughed and waved his pies at those who laughed at him.
It seemed that almost half a hundred small boys were waiting for the Fardale team to appear, and they ran after the carryall, cheering and calling to one another.
“Well, we seem to have won favor with the kids, anyhow,” said Dick.
When the hotel was reached the boys leaped out and hurried in.
Dick was ascending the steps when a carriage bearing Chester Arlington and his sister drew up. Chester was talking to June in a manner that showed his temper. When he saw Dick, he ordered the driver to drive on, but June said:
“You will stop here. I am going to get out here.”
“Not if I know it!” grated her brother, his face pale with anger. “You’ll never speak to that fellow again if I can prevent it!”
“Get down, driver,” said June firmly, “and assist me to alight, if my brother is not gentleman enough to do so.”
The driver sprang down at once, but Arlington grasped his sister’s arm to restrain her.
At this moment a big dog pounced upon another in front of the building, and the fighting, snarling animal was under the feet of the horse in a twinkling. With a snort, the animal sprang away, the reins being jerked from the hands of the driver.
Arlington had partly risen to his feet, and the sudden leap of the horse flung him backward over the seat to the ground.
June Arlington was the only occupant of the carriage as the runaway dashed wildly down the main street of the town.
Dick had witnessed this occurrence. He made a leap down the steps, but was too late to reach the horse.
Chester Arlington sat up, looking dazed and frightened.
“Stop that horse!” he cried, in genuine alarm. “A hundred dollars to the man who stops that horse!”
Even as he uttered the words, Dick Merriwell caught a bicycle from the hands of a boy who had ridden up and was standing beside his machine. On to the bicycle leaped the captain of the eleven, alighting in the saddle and catching the pedals instantly with his feet. Away he went after the runaway, somewhat slowly at first, but with swiftly increasing speed.
“Hi! hi! Runaway! Runaway!”
“Look out for that horse!”
“The girl will be hurt!”
“She may be killed!”
“Look at the fellow on the bike!”
“He can’t catch the horse!”
“Couldn’t stop him if he did!”
The crowd rushed away after the runaway, shouting loudly. Others ran out from offices and stores. In a twinkling the whole street was swarming with excited persons.
Dick bent over the handlebars and pedaled with all the strength and skill he could command. He felt that it was to be a race for life, and he set his teeth, his heart filled with the win-or-die determination
