The Purple Pennant

by Ralph Henry Barbour

Perry received Lanny’s praise and, rather embarrassed, went back for his robe. He wondered if Mr. Addicks had seen him, and he tried to catch sight of that gentleman in the audience. But half the folks were still standing on their feet and shouting and it was no use. He wished Mr. Addicks might have been down here on the field to-day. As he passed the blackboard a boy was writing the new figures down.

“Clearfield, 12; Springdale, 15,” was the announcement.

He tried to figure out how that could be, but was far too excited. When he had wrapped his robe around him he went back to the dressing-room for a rub, crossing the track just ahead of the half-milers who were coming around the turn. He stopped and watched them pass. Todd was running in third place, hugging the rim closely, and Lasker was on his heels. Train was one of a bunch of four who trailed a couple of yards back. Springdale had entered five men to Clearfield’s three. Perry missed the finish of the half-mile, but Beaton brought the news into the dressing-room presently. Only Lasker had been placed, winning second. Linn of Springdale had finished first by nearly thirty yards in two minutes, eight and two-fifths seconds. Todd had been in the lead for the whole of the third lap but hadn’t been able to keep it. He and Train had been a half-lap behind at the end.

“What’s the score now, Arthur?” asked someone.

Beaton shook his head wryly. “Springdale’s about twenty-one, I think, to our fifteen. We’ve got to begin and do something pretty soon. Guy’s got first in the high-jump cinched, though. They’re almost through.”

“How’s the shot-put getting on?” Perry asked.

“Not finished yet,” replied Beaton. “I guess they’ve got it, though.” He hurried out in response to imperative requests for low hurdlers, and Perry followed presently. The 220-yards-hurdle trials had brought out seven entrants and so two preliminary dashes were necessary. Fortunately, perhaps, the two Clearfield candidates, Beaton and Peyton, were not drawn for the same trial. As a result Peyton easily won in his event from three Springdale fellows and Arthur Beaton finished second without hurrying in the next trial. Then the hurdles were quickly lifted aside and the milers began to assemble at the starting point.

Springdale had been conceded this event two weeks ago, but in his last time-trial Smith, of Clearfield, had gone over the course in the commendable time of five minutes and six and two-fifths seconds and the Purple was entertaining a secret hope that Smith might somehow prove too good for the Blue’s crack runner. Eight fellows started, three for Clearfield and five for Springdale. The policy of the latter school was evidently to start as many fellows in each event as possible on the chance of displacing a Clearfield entrant. In the present case it was speedily apparent that at least two of Springdale’s milers were not expected to finish.

At the end of the first of the four laps the race had settled into two divisions—Smith, Toll and Tupper, wearers of the purple C, running well ahead with an equal number of Springdale fellows, and the other two of the Blue’s force lagging a hundred yards behind. Wallace, the Springdale hope, was allowing one of his teammates to set the pace and was right on his heels. Two feet behind him trotted Smith, followed by Tupper, a third Springdale runner, and Toll. The six were hugging the rim and watching each other craftily. In that order they passed around the first turn. Then Toll began to go ahead and the challenge was accepted by the third Springdale man. Toll finally ran even with Wallace in the backstretch and on the next turn dropped into the lead.