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No runs this innings for Pornell!" And the Putnamites howled themselves hoarse, while their opponents had nothing to say. But the players from the rival academy had a fine battery, and it was impossible to "get onto" their pitcher's curves during that first innings. The players went out in one, two, three order, leaving the score 0 to 0.
A grand race, open to all comers, had been arranged by the students of the Hall and of Pornell Academy, a rival institute of learning, which has already figured in other volumes of this series. The Pornell boys were out in force, and they were sure that one of their number would win the silver napkin ring, which was the first prize, and another the story book, which constituted the second prize.
And with a crack of the whip, a tooting of tin horns, and it mad yelling and cheering from the students, the long Putnam Hall stage left the football enclosure attached to the Pornell Academy grounds and started along the lake road for Putnam Hall.
In a twinkle the gridiron was covered with swarming students, and Sam and his fellow players were hoisted up on willing shoulders, to be trotted around the oval. "Hurrah for Pornell!" they shouted. "Hurrah for Putnam!" came back the cry. It had been a bitter but friendly contest, and victors and vanquished shook hands over and over again.
"I am afraid we are in for it!" whispered the young major, as he saw the rush of the Pornell students, each armed with all the snowballs he could carry. "Shall we run away?" asked Andy. "I guess we can run as fast as they can." "Never!" replied Pepper. "I am going to the Hall and on this road." "So am I!" added Jack. "Then let us rush 'em?" suggested Andy.
Spat! came one through the open window. Then the skin of a banana followed, landing in Jack's lap. "Stop that, Bock!" "Don't throw things in here, Sedley!" "Something to remember us by!" shouted Roy Bock, the bully of Pornell Academy, and he threw another soft apple into the carryall. It landed on Pepper's arm, leaving quite a mess there.
Caven rarely showed any money of his own. With the coming of spring the cadets formed, as of old, several football teams, and played several notches, including one with their old rivals, the pupils of Pornell Academy. This game they lost, by a score of four to five, which made the Pornellites feel much better, they having lost every game in the past.
Of course many students of Pornell were bitterly disappointed, but no one felt so sour over the whole afternoon's doing as did Dan Baxter. In all he had lost over fifty dollars, and now neither his fellow students nor the boys of Pornell Academy wanted anything to do with him.
"That's the way to do it!" "Take it from them, Pornell! Go for it! Take it!" And Pornell did take it, and half the distance gained was lost. Both teams were now warmed up, and for fully five minutes the ball flew back and forth, remaining at the end of that time almost in the center of the gridiron.
"Supposin' ve git far avay und der vint sthops plowing, vot den?" "Then we'll set you on the rear seat to blow the sail yourself," replied Frank. "This wind is good for all day, and I know it," he added emphatically. "Let us follow the shore for the present," said Tom. "Perhaps the Pornell students are skating below here and we can show them what we are up to."
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