Winning His "W" by Everett Titsworth Tomlinson


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Page 38

"I can't imagine."

"Well, he told me that he thought the Alpha Omega was the best
fraternity in college, and that he'd made up his mind to join it."

As this was the fraternity to which Mott himself belonged, Will laughed
as he said, "Oh, well, don't be too hard with Peter John. He doesn't
know any better now, but he'll learn."

"That's what he will," replied Mott with a very decided shake of his
head. "I thought I'd come over to tell you that the sophomore-freshmen
meet is to come off on Saturday afternoon."

"Not next Saturday?" exclaimed Will aghast.

"Yes, that's the very day."

"They told me it wasn't to be for two weeks yet."

"All the same it's on Saturday. I thought I'd tell you, though I'm going
to do my best to keep you from winning your numerals."

Mott rose and departed from the room, and when Foster returned he found
his room-mate hard at work, with his Greek books spread out on the desk
before him.




CHAPTER XII

THE MEET


The fact that the track meet between the two lower classes had been
placed at an earlier date than that for which it had first been
announced was a serious disappointment to Will Phelps. His success in
the school athletics had made him quietly hopeful, if not confident,
that he might be able to win some laurels in college, and he also was
aware that the gold medal he wore upon his fob had made his own
classmates expect great things from him. And the changed date now
prevented him from doing any training and he must enter the contest
without any preparation.

Reports had come to him that Mott and Ogden, the two fleetest-footed
sophomores, had already been working hard, and rumors were also current
that he himself was to be kidnapped and prevented from entering the
games. Will had given but slight heed to any of these reports, but he
had in his own mind decided that he would begin training at once for the
contest, for if he should by any chance win then he would be the first
member of his own class to gain the coveted privilege of wearing his
class numerals upon his cap and sweater. And, not unnaturally, Will was
eager to secure the honor.

As he thought over Mott's words he was half inclined to believe that the
sophomore himself had been the cause of the unexpected change in the
date of holding the games, and his feeling of anger and desire to win
both became keener. There was no time, however, afforded in which he
might make preparations for the meet, and he must simply do his best
under existing circumstances. There was to be no burlesque or "horse
play" in this contest, and the entire college would be on hand and
interested to note the promise of the entering class in a department of
college life that appealed strongly to all the students. Even his new
determination to push his work in his Greek harder than ever he had done
and his feeling of homesickness did not in the day that intervened
between the present and the day of the games prevent his interest and
excitement from increasing during the passing hours.

Saturday afternoon finally arrived, clear and cool, an ideal day for the
contest. When Will stepped forth from the dressing-room, clad in his
light running suit and with his bath robe wrapped around him, as he
glanced over the track he could see that a crowd was already assembled.
The sophomores were seated in a body in one portion of the "bleachers,"
and their noisy shouts or loud class cries rose steadily on the autumn
air. Opposite was the freshman class, but its members were still too
unfamiliar with their surroundings and with one another to enable them
to join in anything like the unison of their rivals. In the grand stand
were numbers of the members of the families of the faculty and the
townspeople and visitors, and altogether the scene was one that strongly
stirred Will and his room-mate, Foster Bennett, who also was to compete
in the games.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Wed 14th Jan 2026, 23:02