As though resolved that the Boreas should rest for a while on her laurels, the weather changed that night within the hour and when morning dawned there was a warm southwest wind blowing up the river. That afternoon Dick took Harry for a sail, but the wind by that time had died down to a thin, warm breeze that scarcely filled the sails, and in consequence the trip was not an exhilarating one. But exhilarating or otherwise, it proved to be practically the last of the season, for the warm weather held until the ice-cracks, air-holes and expanses of rotten ice which quickly developed made ice-boating at once dangerous and unpleasant. To be sure, there were occasional trips, but the river never returned to a state making possible another race between the Boreas and the Snowbird, a race which Joe Thurston was eager for and which Dick was not at all averse to. Finally the Boreas was drawn up beside the landing and dismantled, the sails and rigging being stored in the boat-house. As Chub poetically phrased it, “The career of the good ship Boreas has been brief, but ah, how glorious!”

February was a fortnight old when the school was thrown into a fever of mild excitement by a notice posted on the bulletin board in School Hall. The notice read as follows:

I think you could have formed most anything at Ferry Hill just then, from a Croquet Club to a Sewing Society. February is a dull time of year, and the fellows were eager for anything which promised to supply a new interest. For two weeks the rink had been unfit to play on, and the river in scarcely better condition. Ferry Hill had won the first six games of its hockey schedule, including the first contest with Hammond. The second game with the rival school had been twice postponed, and Roy was beginning to lose hope of ever being able to play it, a thing which disgusted him not a little since the team had shown itself to be an unusually good one and able, in his and the school’s estimation, to cope successfully with any hockey team in the vicinity. With skating and hockey at a standstill, base-ball practice confined only to light work in the cage, and the golf links still half a foot deep in snow, the forty-three students at Ferry Hill were ripe for any excitement. And as a result the meeting on Friday afternoon was about as well attended as it could possibly have been. Things went with a rush from the start. Roy outlined the project and introduced Dick Somes, who had hitherto remained in the background. It didn’t take Dick more than two minutes of talking to have every fellow on the edge of his chair with roseate visions of a track and field victory over Hammond floating before his eyes.

“Say, Roy,” whispered Chub, “Dick’s father is some sort of a promoter, isn’t he?”

“Yes, I think so; sells mines, doesn’t he? Why?”

“Nothing much, only I know now where Dick gets it!”

Before the meeting was over thirty-seven out of thirty-nine fellows in attendance had put their names down for the track team and had agreed to contribute two dollars apiece. And there wasn’t one of them who wasn’t firmly convinced that he had the making of a sprinter, distance runner, hurdler, jumper, pole-vaulter or weight-thrower!

“I’ve talked with Mr. Cobb,” said Dick, “and he’s right with us in this; says there’s no reason why we shouldn’t be able to turn out a dandy team. Of course, we mustn’t set our hearts on too much this spring; we’re new at it yet, and it takes a couple of years to get the stride. But I can’t see why we haven’t as good a chance to lick Hammond as she has to lick us. (Enthusiastic applause.) As soon as we’ve elected officers we’ll get a challenge off to her, and I guess there’s no doubt but what she’ll be glad to meet us. We haven’t got a very good outdoor track just now, but we’re going to fix that in time. Meanwhile we can do a whole lot of work indoors, and Mr. Cobb will arrange it so that he will be on hand here three afternoons a week to give instruction. But there mustn’t be any backing down, fellows. If you go in to this you must keep it up. It may seem like hard work at first, but after we get out of doors you’ll like it immensely. I’m not afraid of your backing out then; only that you may get discouraged before that. But if you’ll just remember all the time that we’re going to show Hammond that we’re just as good on the cinder track as we are on the gridiron and the diamond and the river, why, I guess you’ll stick it out.”

Dick sat down amid hearty cheers and Roy proposed the election of officers.

“I suppose,” he said, “that we’d better leave the selection of a captain until a little later, until we’ve been together a while and have seen who’s capable of heading the team. So that leaves us the duty of selecting a manager and assistant manager. Nominations are in order.”

Warren proposed Roy for manager, but Roy declined, pleading a press of other duties. Then Chub, who had his instructions, arose and nominated Dick. Dick was unanimously chosen. The position of assistant manager was not so quickly filled, but finally Sid Welch was put up and the meeting accepted him hilariously, demanding a speech. But Sid refused to make any remarks except to bob his head and mutter something about being much obliged.

On Saturday afternoon the candidates got to work in the gymnasium. A less optimistic person than Dick Somes would, I think, have been rather discouraged by the prospect. Few of the candidates for the team had ever seriously tried the work which they had selected. A good many of them, in fact, had very hazy ideas of what they had let themselves in for, and there was a deal of grumbling over chest-weights and dumb-bells. But the grumbling always ceased when Dick drew near, and his enthusiasm was contagious. Mr. Cobb shook his head afterward and said he was afraid there wasn’t enough material there to make a team that could hope to make a showing against Hammond. But Dick wouldn’t listen to that.

“We may be weak in some events,” he said, “but we’ll have some good sprinters, you mark my words, sir, and if we can get a lot of second and third places we’ll make a good showing for a new team. I wish every other fellow wouldn’t insist on being either a hurdler or a hammer-thrower, though,” he laughed. “I can’t find but one chap who is willing to go in for the pole-vault, and he’s only doing it as a favor to me and will probably back out when he’s once tried it and has found that he can’t do twelve feet the first time.”

Dick had purchased every book on the subject of track and field athletics that he could hear of and was studying them diligently. He knew, perhaps, as little at the start as any fellow in school in regard to track and field work and training methods. But he talked with every one who could help him, especially Mr. Cobb, and, as I have said, studied all the literature to be found. The result was that by the time outdoor work was reached he knew a good deal on the subject, although much of his knowledge was as yet theoretical, and would have impressed the wiliest veteran athlete as being an old hand. A portion of Dick’s philosophy, if ever formulated in words, would have run something like this: “Know how if you can; if you can’t, keep your mouth shut and look wise.”

When, three weeks after the formation of the team, an election for captain was held, the members suddenly realized that there was only one among them who possessed the requisite knowledge to fill the office successfully, only one whom they placed faith in. Six fellows got on to their feet at the same moment and nominated Dick Somes and about a dozen more seconded the nomination. Further nominations not following, Dick was unanimously elected, accepting the honor with becoming modesty. Sid was promoted to manager and Fernald became assistant.

“Well,” said Roy after the meeting was over, “that went all right.”

“According to program,” agreed Chub cheerfully.

“You fellows may think it was cheeky of me to get up the team and then have myself elected captain,” said Dick, “but I know that I’m the only fellow here who can see the thing through. And I suppose that sounds conceited.”

“Well, it might from some one else,” said Roy, “but it doesn’t from you, Dick. Anyhow, it’s just about so. If any fellow can make a track team go here it’s you. And I hope you’ll succeed.”

“Oh, I’ll succeed all right,” answered Dick calmly. “Of course I don’t look for many victories this year, but if we get the team started it’ll keep a-going, and next year or the year after that we’ll show a few of those conceited Hammondites what we can do.”

“I wish I had some of your confidence,” sighed Chub. “If I had I’d feel better about base-ball.”

“Chub’s an optimist when it comes to other people’s affairs,” laughed Roy, “and a confirmed growler about his own. Last year he was certain we were going to get licked by Hammond; went around for two weeks before the game looking as though he’d swallowed a barrel of pickles.”

“Were you?” Dick asked.

“Not a bit of it! We won, eight to seven.”

“It was a close call, though,” said Chub. “If you hadn’t—”

“Oh, Dick’s heard all about that,” interrupted Roy. “When are you going to issue that challenge to Hammond, Dick?”

“Right away now. I told Sid to meet me this evening after supper and we’d write it out. They’re probably still smarting over losing the second hockey game to us and that will make them eager to lick us at something else. I want them to propose their own grounds. In the first place, ours won’t be fit for much this spring, and in the next place if we’re beaten, as we’re pretty sure to be, we’ll be able to point to the fact that Hammond had the advantage of being on her home field; as a matter of fact, it won’t make much difference to us where we are. Then next year, when we may have a chance of beating them, they’ll have to come over here.”

“Well, if you aren’t the foxy one!” said Chub.

“Well, I don’t want the fellows to be discouraged when they’re beaten,” responded Dick. “And the more excuses they have the less they’ll mind a defeat. I guess I’ll leave you fellows here. I want to go to the Cottage a minute to see Harry.”

“We’ll come along,” said Chub.

Dick smiled and shook his head.

“It’s a private matter,” he said. “You fellows run along.”

“What do you think of that?” exclaimed Roy. “He and Harry have been mighty chummy for the last week or two, Chub. Wonder what’s up, eh?”

“You’ll find out presently,” said Dick.

They had been sauntering slowly along the path from the gymnasium and now Dick turned to the right and walked across the wet turf.

“Where are you going?” demanded Roy.

“Just here,” answered Dick, stopping and looking off down the slope toward the river. “You get a great view from here, don’t you?”

“Yes,” answered Roy as they joined him. “What of it?”

“Nothing, only I’ve been thinking that this would be a fine site for the new dormitory.”

“Gee!” exclaimed Chub. “I’d forgotten all about it. Anything doing yet?”

“N-no, not to speak of,” answered Dick as he turned back toward the path. “Still, I rather think there’ll be a meeting before very long.”

“Isn’t he the mysterious chump?” asked Chub. “Bet you he’s thought out a scheme. Have you, Dick?”

“I’ll tell you after a while,” was the answer. “So long.”

“Oh, well, of course we don’t want to know,” replied Chub. “Farewell, O Man of Mystery!”