Part 5 (2/2)
CHAPTER VI
HICKS MAKES A SPEECH
The announcement of T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., had practically the same effect on Head Coach Corridan and the cheery Senior's comrades as a German gas-bomb would have on the inmates of an Allied trench. For several seconds they stared at the blithesome youth, in a manner scarcely to be called aimless, since their looks were aimed with deadly accuracy at him, but in general, with the exception of Hicks, those in the room resembled vastly some of the celebrated Madame Tussaud's wax-works in London.
”Oh,” breathed Monty Merriweather, with the appearance of dawning intelligence, ”that's so, Coach, Hicks never has disclosed the details of his achievement; we were about to extort a confession from him, when Thor broke up the league with his announcement, and since then, Bannister has been too worried over Thorwald to trifle with Hicks!”
”That's a good idea!” exclaimed Coach Corridan, who had been remarkably silent, for him, pondering the football crisis, ”Hicks can make his explanation at the regular ma.s.s-meeting tonight, in the Auditorium. I'll post an announcement of his purpose, and you fellows spread the news among the students, stating that Hicks will tell how he rounded up Thor. Some have s.h.i.+rked these meetings since Thorwald quit the game, and this will bring them out, so maybe we can arouse the fighting spirit again!”
So well did Butch, Beef, Socks, Monty, Dad, Deacon, and Shad tell the news, that when the bell in the Administration Hall tower rang at ten o'clock it was ascertained by score-keepers that every youth at Bannister, Freshmen included, except that Hercules, Thor, had a.s.sembled in the Auditorium. That stolid behemoth, who regarded the football ma.s.s-meeting as foolishness, was reported as boning in his cheerless room, fulfilling the mission for which he came to college, namely, to get his money's worth of knowledge, which he evidently regarded as some commodity for which Bannister served merely as a market.
Big Butch Brewster, on the stage of the Auditorium, the big a.s.sembly-hall of the college, along with Coach Corridan, several of the Gold and Green eleven, two members of the Faculty, several a.s.sistant Coaches, and T.
Haviland Hicks, Jr., stepped forward and stilled the tumult of the excited youths with upraised hand.
”We have with us tonight,” he spoke, after the fas.h.i.+on of introducing after-dinner speakers, ”Mr. Thomas Haviland Hicks, Jr., the celebrated Magician and Mystifier, who will present for your approval his world-famous Billion-Dollar Mystery, and give the correct solution to Thor, the problem no one has been able to solve. I take great pleasure in introducing to you this evening, Mr. Thomas Haviland Hicks, Jr.”
The collegians, firmly believing it was another of the pestiferous Hicks'
jokes, and wholly unaware of the deep purpose of the sunny-souled, irrepressible youth's speech, went into paroxysms of glee, as the shadow-like Hicks stepped forward. For several minutes, the hall echoed with jeers, shouts, groans, whistles, and sarcastic comments:
”Hire a hall, Hicks; tell it to Sweeney!”--”Bryan better look out. Hicks, the Chau-talker;”--”Spill the speech, old man; spread the oratory!”--”Oh, where are my smelling-salts? I know I shall faint!”--”You'd better play a banjo-accompaniment to it, Hicks!”
T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., for once in his campus career, fervidly wished he had not been such a happy-go-lucky, care-free collegian, for now, when he was serious, his comrades refused to believe him to be in such a state.
However, quiet was obtained at last, thanks to the fact that the youths possessed all the curiosity of the proverbial cat who died thereby, and the sunny Senior plunged earnestly into his famous speech, that was destined, at old Bannister, to rank with that of Demosthenes ”On The Crown,” or any of W. J, Bryan's masterpieces.
”Fellows,” began Hicks, without preface, ”I know I've built myself the reputation of being a scatterbrained, heedless nonent.i.ty, and it's too late to change now. But tonight, please believe me to be thoroughly in earnest.
Bannister faces more than one crisis, more than one tragedy. It is true that the football eleven is crippled by the defection of Thor, that we fellows have somewhat unreasonably allowed his quitting the game to shake our spirit, but there is more at stake than football victories, than even the State Intercollegiate Football Champions.h.i.+p! The future of a student, of a present Freshman, his hopes of becoming a loyal, solid, representative college man, a tremendous power for good, at old Bannister, hang in the balance at this moment! I speak of John Thorwald. You students have it in your power to make or break him, to ruin his college years and make him a recluse, a misanthrope, or to gradually bring him to a full realization of what college life and campus tradition really mean.”
”I have made a great mystery of Thor, just for a lark, but the enmity and condemnation of the campus for him because he quit football suddenly, shows me that the time for skylarking is past. For his sake, I must plead. He is not to blame, altogether, for quitting. Myself, and you fellows, gave him the impression that it was a Faculty requirement for him to play football, for we feared he would not play, otherwise; when he learned that it was not a Faculty rule, he simply quit.”
Here T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., seeing that at last he had convinced the collegians of his earnestness, though they seemed fairly paralyzed at the phenomenon, paused, and produced a bundle of papers before resuming.
”Now, I'll try to explain the 'mystery' as briefly and as clearly as possible. Up at Camp Bannister, before college opened, Coach Corridan, as you know, outlined to Butch, Deke, and myself, his dream of a Herculean, irresistible full-back; I said, 'Just leave It to Hicks!' and they believed that I, as usual, just made that remark to torment them. But such was not the case. When I joined them, I remarked that I had a letter from my Dad; Deke made some humorous remarks, and I forgot to read it aloud, as I intended. Then, after Coach Corridan blue-printed his giant full-back, I kept silent as to Dad's letter, for reasons you'll understand. But, after all, there was no mystery about my leaving Camp Bannister, after making a seemingly rash vow, and returning to college with a 'Prodigious Prodigy'
who filled specifications, In fact, before I left Camp Bannister, at the moment I made my rash promise--I had Thor already lined up!”
”I shall now read a dipping or two, and a letter or two from my Dad. The clippings came in Dad's letter to me at Camp Bannister, the letter I intended to read to Coach Corridan, Deke, and Butch, but which I decided to keep silent about, after the Coach told of the full-back he wanted, for I knew I had him already! First, a clipping from the San Francisco Examiner, of August 25:
MAROONED SAILOR RESCUED--TEN YEARS ON SOUTH SEA ISLAND! SOLE SURVIVOR OF ILL-FATED CRUISE OF THE ZEPHYR
”The trading-schooner Southern Cross, Captain Martin Bas...o...b.. skipper, put into San Francisco yesterday with a cargo of copra from the South Sea Islands. On board was John Thorwald, Sr., who for the past ten years has been marooned on an uninhabited coral isle of the Southern Pacific, together with 'Long Tom' Watts, who, however, died several months ago.
Thorwald's story reads like a thrilling bit of fiction. He was first mate of the ill-fated yacht Zephyr, which cleared from San Francisco ten years ago with Henry B. Kingsley, the Oil-King, and a pleasure party, for a cruise under the southern star. A terrific tornado wrecked the yacht, and only Thorwald and 'Long Tom' escaped, being cast upon the coral island, where for ten years they existed, unable to attract the attention of the few craft that pa.s.sed, as the isle was out of the regular lanes. Only when Captain Martin Bas...o...b.. in the trading-schooner Southern Cross, touched at the island, hoping to find natives with whom to trade supplies for copra, were they found, and 'Long Tom' had been dead some months.”
”Despite the harrowing experiences of his exile, Thorwald, a vast hulk of a stolid, unimaginative Norwegian, who reminds one of the Norse G.o.d, 'Thor,'
intends to s.h.i.+p as first mate on the New York-Christiania Steams.h.i.+p Line.
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