The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1893-10-25


more horrible. Here and there tall syc-
amore trembled in the water, white in
the rapidly deepening dusk.
OF course to attempt to cross was fol-
ly. Suppose the Philos did lose--what
then? What did it really matter? Then
he seemed to hear the shouts of the vic
torious Linos-Guthridge's triumphant
cheer-and to see his own society sitting
crushed and silent.
He would try it.
He looked back for moment at the
station and the light dying in the west
behind it. Then he frightened his grasp
on his cane, the pride of his juniors
heart, and stepping upon the stringers
at the side Of the track he began.
The water was an inch, then ankle
deep and icy cold. He could scarcely
see the ties, but he felt with his cane
along the edge of the beam.
Farther out the track sloped and the
water deepened. Jack could not see the
stringer, but he felt for each step care
fully. 1t was growing so dark he could
not see the farther shore. He did not
dare look up or down the creek, and the
whirl of the water made him dizzy.
Suddenly the water became knee deep
with the sagging OF the old bridge, and
he entered the channel. The current
nearly swept him off his feet. He stood
still, heartily repenting the foolhardy
undertaking. To return was impossible.
Two steps more. The roar of the
black water grew deafening; took pos
session of him. Jack looked up stream.
A huge dim mass was floating swiftly
down the creek. 1t was a section of a
covered bridge. 1t swayed toward one
shore, then toward the other, with hor-
rible drunken reel. The boy reeled, too,
stumbled, and the cane was swept be-
You'd his reach instantly. He fell on his
hands and knees, and there chung to the
beam, the water surging to his neck.
He got his head again presently. He
caught glimpse of a few lights here
and there in the town. The roar of the
river dashing on into the night drowned
his voice. He closed his eyes and wait
ed. The floating section of the bridge
seemed hours coming. He thought Of
the warm dining room at home and his
mothers face above the teacups. He
could see the debating hall through
luminous mist. He wondered if Hal
stead would speak in his place.
He was growing numb with the chill
of the water. The river seemed to whirl
and rock about him. Then there was a
noise like thunder. The bridge had
struck the trestle. A wave swept over
hin, Tho 4raet1a tro,,, h1aI oxuox,aJ 4l,o
bridge fioated broadside, then struck
again. The trestle tottered, wavered,
then the bridge settled against it and
was stationary, and as Jack mechanical
ly crawled on again he knew that the
trestle would hold.
Meantime in the debating hall the de-
bate on Resolved, That strikes are jus
tifiable," had begun. Guthridge had
mounted the rostrum amid the cheers of
his society, while the Philos were giving
Gardner advice enough to have driven
| 10 men mad.
Guthridge had demolished one by. one
the hopes of the opposition. Every NJ
was silent. Gardiner went hot, thu
cold, by turns. 1t was in vain for him
to answer Guthridge.
The brilliant speech drew to close.
"'Strike till the last armed foe ex-
pires,'" shouted Guthridge, waving his
arms madly. "'Strike for your affairs
and your fires. Strike for the green
graves of your siresp There are
strikes"-
He broke off silently. Every Philo
was on his feet cheering like mad. Four
times the college yell rang out like o
battlecry. -Four times, and then the
crowd parted. There in their midst,
painting with the quick run from the
bridge, his eyes ablaze with excitement
and his figure disguised in suit of Hal
stead's old clothes, stood Jack.
or course the Philos won, and every
body remembers how all the class cheered
when the class historian ON class day, a
fortnight later, told what Jack dared
and did for the glory Of the Philos!--
Ruth Prescott in Washington News.