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"Never you mind about balloons. What we're after now is the second-class scout badge, and we're going to get it if we have to kill a couple of councilmen." "Did you ever kill a councilman?" "No, but I will, if Alf McCord, second-class scout, doesn't get his badge. I feel just in the humor. Go on now, chase yourself up the line a ways and then come back. I'll be waiting at the garden gate."
"All indications being for fair weather, Captain Rohmer of the Mercury detailed two of his company to bring the find back to this port, a distance of one hundred and fifteen miles. The only man available with a knowledge of the fore-and-aft rig was Stewart McCord, the second engineer. A seaman by the name of Björnsen was sent with him.
Faint cheers rose from scattered parts of the grand-stand, and here and there shouts and yells. The audience appeared to stir, to become animated, and the Herne players settled down to more sober action on the field. McCord made a bid for a hit, but failed because of fast work by Stern. Ken went up, eager to get to first in any way.
He said kind of slow, sort of, as if he was trying to make up his mind, "Well, Roy, I have an idea I'll let you take little McCord home. I don't know what else to do with him. I'm afraid he's too much for me. You see there are a good many boys who have to be considered. This isn't much of a place for a campaign of reformation," that's just what he said. I said, "Are you mad at Skinny?"
He saw McCord and Raymond trying to stem the torrent of right-field hits, but those they knocked down gave him no time to recover. He blocked the grass-cutters with his knees or his body and pounced upon the ball and got it away from him as quickly as possible. Would this rapid fire of uncertain-bounding balls never stop? Ken was in a kind of frenzy. If he only had time to catch his breath!
The trial came on before Judge Warren W. Foster in Part 3 of the General Sessions on February 27th, 1906. A special panel quickly supplied a jury, which, after hearing the evidence, returned in short order a verdict of guilty. As Judge Foster believed the McCord case to be still the law of the State, he, of his own motion, and with commendable independence, immediately arrested judgment.
It passed from the weather side to the lee and ducked behind the sweep of the mainsail like that " McCord snapped his thumb and forefinger under the light. "Go on," I said. "What did you do then?" McCord regarded me for an instant from beneath his lids, uncertain. His fist hung above the table. "You're " He hesitated, his lips working vacantly.
I'd like to see the guy who can beat me out of my place next season." This brought another hearty cheer. Further questioning made clear that all the varsity except Homans, Blake, and McCord would surely return to college. "Fine! Fine! Fine!" exclaimed Worry.
And yet there was something in the quality of that voice beyond my shoulder that brought the sweat stinging through the pores of my scalp even while I was in the act of turning. A cat sat there on the hatch, expressionless and immobile in the gloom. I did not say anything. I turned and went below. McCord was there already, standing on the farther side of the table.
Oh, but he was proud and happy. If Hervey Willetts, wherever he was, saw him one brief thrill of pride and satisfaction must have been his. "Alfred McCord," said Mr. Temple; "your friends and I greet you as a scout of the second-class. Let me place on you the symbol of your achievement." He stepped forward, just one step. Oh, but he was happy. He stood upon the platform, but he walked on air. Mr.
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