That Thanksgiving night Columbia went wild.
True, the first snow of the year began sifting down, and the ground was covered with a white mantle; but such a little thing as that could not quench the ardor of those happy fellows. And so for hours the town resounded with cheers and songs, while in several places great bonfires along the banks of the Harrapin told of the general rejoicing.
How could they help it when Columbia High had completed the greatest year in all her history—first there was the winning of the baseball championship; then came the hotly contested inter-school rowing races, in which she won new laurels with her young athletes; and last but not least, both Clifford and Bellport had gone down to bitter defeat before her gridiron warriors!
Frank would have begged off, but even the girls insisted that it would be a shame to spoil the fun. So he had to join in the festivities, and shout with the rest of Columbia's brave sons and fair daughters, as the gigantic procession wound in and out through all the town, greeted by answering cheers from the equally enthusiastic fathers and mothers from the windows.
"There's only one more thing we ought to scoop in this year," said Paul Bird, as he and Frank stood with the girls and watched the antics of Herman Hooker and his band of comical players, wherein the most astonishing stunts were indulged in with amazing instruments manufactured for the occasion.
"You mean the hockey championship, I suppose?" returned Frank, smiling.
"Yes, and from the expression on your face, old fellow, I'm of the opinion right now that you mean to have a look-in on that later on when the river is frozen again."
Frank laughed and nodded.
"Some of us have been talking it over. You know Clifford has been unbeaten in that line for years. They have the best skaters up there in the State, they claim. If we think to accept their standing challenge this year it's up to us to put a better team on the ice than last season," he remarked.
"Well, they did snow you under, for a fact. But experience showed that there were two fellows on your team who ought never to have been there. They lost the match through their clumsiness. Isn't that so, girls?" demanded Paul.
"Everybody said so," declared Helen; and Minnie nodded her heard to indicate that she was of the same opinion.
"Then it must be so," laughed Frank. "But those fellows are not on the team this year. We've been keeping quiet about who is going to play. The committee have selected a certain number of players, and the best will be chosen in time. Mark my words, Paul, we mean to try and give Clifford the biggest kind of a fight this winter. Whether we can win or not depends on many things. Time will tell."
And time did tell, for what manner of hockey was played that winter on the ice-clad surface of the neighboring Harrapin can be found recorded in the next volume of this series of High School sports, entitled: "The Boys of Columbia High on the Ice; or, Out for the Hockey Championship."
When the first of December came around shortly after that great Thanksgiving Day game, Ralph West sought out Frank once more. His face told of excitement, and Frank was consequently ready to expect some important news.
"Did you get your usual monthly allowance from Uncle Jim's office?" he asked.
"Yes, yesterday. I suppose he left word before he went that it should be sent while he was away. But I've heard from him direct," replied Ralph, his face glowing with the eager light of anticipated happiness.
"You have? A letter from China or Russia or Siberia, which?"
"You're away off, Frank. This was a cablegram. I just got it at the office, for I have wandered in there often in hopes of such a thing, and know the operator. It was from Tokio, and I suppose your Uncle Jim must have followed Mrs. Langworthy and her brother Arnold Musgrove there. Perhaps they gave up all hope of getting to Russia through China. I don't know how that is, but here's what it says," and he handed a message to Frank, who glanced down at these words:
"Leave here next steamer for States. Mrs. Langworthy accompanies me. Keep up a good heart, for there is much joy in store for you. JAMES DECATUR ALLEN."
"Hurrah! that's glorious news, old fellow! From my heart I congratulate you! Now, I know Uncle Jim well enough to feel sure that he'd never cable like that unless he was absolutely positive of his ground. Like as not, that monster of an Arnold—why wasn't his name Benedict like the Revolutionary traitor, has confessed; for you don't notice his name among the expected travelers."
"Well, I don't know how I'll ever be able to stand the weeks that must pass before they get here in Columbia. You must help me, Frank, you and Helen," declared Ralph, gripping the hand of his chum almost savagely.
"We will, all right. The time will fly, because you're anticipating happy news. Just think of the extravagance of Uncle Jim, sending nearly thirty words in a cablegram. It costs twenty-five cents a word to London, and goodness knows how many times that from Tokio here. He knows what he's doing though, and I warrant you it's the lady's money that pays for that cablegram," whereupon Ralph impulsively raised the paper to his lips and kissed it, then blushed like a girl.
With such good and true friends around him, it may be sure that Ralph was not going to be left alone much of the time. They made him join in all their sports, and with the coming of winter a dozen new things presented themselves to the boys and girls of old Columbia High.
Minnie was happier than ever, since that little shadow was removed, and her former warm, friendly intercourse with Frank and Helen renewed. Many times she thought of how valiantly Frank had stood there, holding the attention of that terrible bull, so as to allow her time to clamber out of harm's way; and never without a shudder, as she contemplated what a terrible thing might have happened had the boy slipped when avoiding those rushes of the enraged animal.
Never would she allow that old red sweater to leave her possession. The very sight of it always made her sigh with satisfaction. It had undoubtedly had much to do with the savage attack of that animal, whose pasture she so unwittingly invaded; but had that event not happened, perhaps the mystery of that torn paper would never have been explained.
Nothing could again cause her to ever doubt the fidelity of Frank Allen; and to the end of the chapter they must always be, as she had said that day, "good friends, true friends!"
THE END.
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