Evening Republican, Volume 20, Number 38, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 February 1916 — THE CRACK RUNNER [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE CRACK RUNNER

By ELIZABETH SCHOEN COBB.

Just one accomplishment Roy Vastlne brought with him when he started a post-graduate course at Lyndhurst college—this comprised being able to run faster and leap farther than any man in the institution. His record past and present was that of “a crack sprinter.” Roy had demonstrated and made good, and it placed him in a certain expert class. He was a frank, credulous young fellow, however, and his previous educational training had been of the home class. His uncle was a retired university professor and had taken pride in storing his mind with a store of profound knowledge, classic and erudite, and had now sent him off to put upon it a modern gloss. One thing the worthy relative had added, was a thorough course of training in athletic exercise. Hence, the robust health of the new student, and hence also the readiness with which he was accepted in his inexperience by the college wolves as a veritable lamb for the slaughter. . They proceeded to nlay the usual amount of college hazing tricks upon him. Roy took it all in a good-na-tured way. Usually he turned the tables on them and their schemes into ridicule. For instance, they lured him to hire a horse and wagon, alleging that they knew a secluded orchard where there could be no visitors after midnight, and where they could get enough luscious apples to last the fraternity for a whole term. They inveigled their ready “victim” into driving in the dark into the middle of abig swamp. There Roy was to wait until he got the “signal.” They went home chuckling over the long and monotonous wait Roy would have. Behold, however, in the morning, bright and early, Roy drove past the ‘'fraternity house with a heaping load of ripe, tempting apples, smiled benignly as he halted in the midst of the juniors, distributed the fruit so

that none of the plotters got a bite, and informed them coolly that the only “quid pro nunc” they could hppe tor would be the discarded cores. So his fellows were on the lookout for some suggestion or plan where they could get even. In the meantime an episode canie to the front that brought a new interest into the life of the “green*’ student. He and half a dozen of the more sporty of his set"were passing down the road towards the town one bright afternoon, when a dainty phaeton with two ponies attached came into view. They were driven by the prettiest possible girl in the world, at once Roy decided. His companions doffed their caps and flourished about as though they were paying homage to some queen. They fancied themselves lady-killers, and showed it plainly. The young lady responded to their salutation with a dignified bow. Roy stood staring after her as though some new amazing element had come into his life, stunning him. “Hello!” rallied cne of the crowd; “dead stuckr»eh?” “She is the most lovely creature I have ever seen, ’ voiced Roy simply. “All the men are dying tc win her,” was the statement. “I can see your finish —moonstruck. All right, go after her. I’ll bet she’ll turn you down the minute you get gushy. Just as she has seme of the richest fellows in the college.” “I never bet where ladies are concerned,’ - observed Roy, and that remark, respectful and dignified, was Repeated to Miss Olive Mershon, later on. She was the daughter of a rich magnate, the belle of the district and courted by suitors innumerable. It never occurred to Roy that he would dare to do more than adore her at a distance. He did not know that from beneath those long eyelashes of Miss Mershon as she passed the group that day, a pair of bright orbs had taken in the foppish presentation of the others and noted the contrast with the 'simple, sensible attire and frank open 4 face of the new student. Then came the trump trick of the crowd. It appeared that at either extremity of the town there was a foreign community of workmen. They hailed from the same nation in northern Europe, hut were as much divided in a clannish way as if enemies for all £ - ' ■

"Say! I’ve got the great idea,” announced the leader of the mischiefmakers to his cronies one day. “We’ll pretend to teach Roy a new college yell. We*ll get him down among the North squatters and get him to make the 'Maledetti Tedeschi!* cry of the South enders. Say! then see how fast he can run.” The plan was well conceived and carried out. They got Roy into the very center of the North district, feigned a mission around the block and told him to hail them with the new college yell when he got tired of waiting for them. Never for many a long day after that did Roy Vastine forget the startling spectacle that ensued, when he uttered the derisive cry which was a scoff, a challenge, an insult to the community whose precincts he had invaded. As if by magic he became the center of a surging mob. Men came rushing at him with huge fists clenched, women with uplifted mops and pans, children with cudgels and brickbats. Every store and house in the neighborhood poured out a stream of ravenous, incensed human beings. As the true light dawned upon the mind of Roy, he realized that discretion would be the better part of valor. As a big stone grazed his face, he knitted his arms to his side and bent his head and made a dive down a side street. Roy described a tortuous course. One by one his pursuers dropped to the rear. Four or five determined men, however, seemed resolved to keep up with him. He had experienced no fear though betraying prudence against superior numbers. Now the zest of athletics directed and encouraged. At length he came to the limits of the district. A deep drainage ditch fully twelve feet across was in his path. Roy braced mightily. In open admiration his pursuers stood rooted as he cleared the gap, landed on the other side and sank to the ground on the slant beyond to regain his breath. A scream in feminine accents started him again to his feet His quick eyes scanned the expanse about him. “There’s danger,” he uttered sharply. A hundred feet away a team of ponies attached to a phaeton were 'dashing down the narrow “road, the lines entangled in their feet —her phaeton, Miss Mershon and her ponies! His prodigies of valor in saving the occupant of the vehicle from injury, formed the theme of social gossip for a week. In halting the horses his arm had suffered and Roy had to wear it in a sling for some days. Thus invalided and with ample leisure, each day he was an invited guest to the Mershon home. “We’re going to give you a banquet next Tuesday," announced one of the crowd one day. “Thanks,” bowed Roy, with a quizzical look, “but—l’m engaged;” and he left the student to put what construction he liked on his reply. (Copyright, 1916, by W. G. Chapman.)

Men Came Rushing at Him.