College sports -- Fiction; Short stories, American; Sports stories; Track and field -- Fiction
I went over the matter with him in detail, assisted by Furness, giving
all our reasons, doing my best to make the project as inviting as
possible; and Atherton finally consented, as we expected. It was,
however, a very serious face he carried off, and one very different from
that which smiled upon us at the beginning. We were all mighty sorry for
the boy, and I felt as if I had committed a petty theft, and deserved
the penitentiary, or worse. I had only been the spokesman for the rest,
and had racked my brains to think of some way to save Atherton from the
sacrifice; but Tom was really unassailable in his position, and even
"Doc" did not oppose him.
I watched the lithe figure as it disappeared around the corner of the
fence, realizing how full of disappointment my message must have been,
and was sorry enough about it.
Atherton had arrived at college without either athletic training or
ambition. A student of the first rank, so that he was known at once
where muscular ability is much more likely to obtain recognition than
mental strength, it was not until his second year that I saw much of
him.
He then took up running, not so much with a view of contesting, as to
fill out his lungs and increase his strength. It was not long, however,
before he began to show decided improvement, and steadily gaining, had
run unplaced, but close up, in his junior year. He had brought himself
out in this way without in the least losing rank as a scholar, and I
knew it was his one remaining ambition to get a place in athletics, and
win a point for the old college on this last competition to which he
would be eligible. If he had been a musty bookworm I should not have
cared so much, but he was a splendid fellow, of good family, and a great
favorite of mine, because of his pluck and good nature.
He appeared next day on the track, as agreed, a little serious, but not
at all disagreeable; which made me feel more guilty than ever. In fact,
I tried to apologize, and for this received, as I deserved, a sharp
answer, that the decision was doubtless correct, and there was no
necessity for further talk.
He listened to my instructions carefully, took Bates along within a half
second of the fifty-nine, and left him in the stretch to finish four
seconds better than ever before. Teddy was badly used up, of course, for
he was not at all accustomed to the distance, and when I gave him a
shoulder to the gymnasium, he was as limp as possible. He took our
congratulations with a half smile, and would not confess that he was
much the worse for the effort.
Tom Furness was much elated, insisting there was no question but that we
had made a change to the advantage of all but Teddy, and it was right
that he should suffer for the good of the cause. It is wonderful with
what complacency we look upon the sacrifice of others.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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