Frank Armstrong at College

by Matthew M. Colton

Frank won his game, but at heavy expense. For five innings he pitched great ball and kept the league hitters to two runs, while the Yale team, finding themselves, batted out seven runs by clean hitting and fast base-running. Then in the sixth Frank began to slow up and the Norfolk batters reached his delivery frequently, but runs were cut off by superb playing of the Yale infield. Every ball he pitched sent a sting through his muscles with a pain almost unbearable, but he kept on to the end of the inning.

"What's the matter with you?" inquired the coach as he came to the bench. "Is your arm bothering you?"

"Yes, something seems to be wrong with it. Hurts like thunder."

Quinton knew only too well the symptoms. Armstrong had "thrown his arm out," a not uncommon thing in early spring baseball. His muscles, not sufficiently worked out, had been injured in the delivery of the speed ball he had been pitching.

Martin finished the game and held it safely, but Frank pitched no more that trip nor during the season for the 'Varsity. For a time after returning to New Haven he was worked in the outfield, but even there was at a disadvantage because he could not shoot the ball on a long throw from the outfield. So he was displaced by a weaker hitter, and shortly after went over to the track squad where he was received with open arms by the trainer, who foresaw a certainty of added points in the coming track meets.

And he was not disappointed, for Frank, now out of baseball because of his accident, gave his entire time to the perfection of the broad jump, and won first place at the Harvard and Princeton dual meets. He took second place to the great Moffatt who made the trip across the continent from the University of California, and set a mark at twenty-three feet nine inches, which even Frank's unusual skill failed to equal, although on three different trials he had improved on his jump at the Queen's Club in London. Armstrong was now rated as one of the best jumpers in any of the colleges. But his ambitions in the direction of baseball and football had failed to materialize through accidents of one sort or another. He was the kind of a boy, however, who was willing to do as well as it was possible the thing that was available without repining about the things impossible.

During the stay at Norfolk the Codfish sustained his reputation as a friend of trouble. On the way down from Washington he had scraped acquaintance with a classmate named Chalmers, who had some acquaintances in Norfolk. The party was hardly established at the hotel when Gleason hunted up his friend Chalmers and suggested that they take a ride in one of the snappy looking motor cars that stood in front of the hotel for hire. Chalmers pleaded poverty.

"Only four dollars an hour," said Gleason, "and we can look all over the town. Bully old place, all wistaria and pretty girls and happy darkies. Come on, don't be a tight wad!"

"Four dollars an hour would break me. At that price I could ride about ten minutes. Let's walk," suggested Chalmers.

"Oh, come on, let's show these southerners some speed. I have fifteen dollars in my inside pocket. There's a perfectly ripping blue car out front with a darky all fussed up to beat the band. It looks like a private rig and all that. One hour will do the trick, and I'll foot the bill."