--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - John Henry Evans collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 18 number: 6 published: 1915-04 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'John Henry Evans, "A Junior Sub," *Improvement Era* 18, no. 6 (April 1915): 517–523.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1806unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera1806unse start_page: 517 end_page: 523 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1915-04) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1806unse publication_year: 1915 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1915, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # A Junior Sub A Junior Sub BY JOHN HENRY EVANS At last the jolt came. That was at an afternoon practice game of the Seagull basket ball team, in the new gymnasium. The Hun came in late, as usual. Sidling up to Dyke, he sneered loud enough for all the fellows to hear : "You ain't going to play, Mr. Fenton?" The thought was strongly declarative, but the tone was even more strongly interrog- ative. "Looks like it, Mr. Watson!" came the answer. — "Then I don't that's a cinch !" And the tall, center slouched to the sidelines and sulked. "What's the matter there?" the coach demanded, for all the world as if the thing had happened now for the first time. "Turk's going to play with us," the Hun took it upon himself to reply. "We don't want Fenton. He's not one of the bunch." "He's one of the bunch now, Hun," the trainer answered. He spoke in quiet, emphatic tones, as his cleft fingers laced the slit in the ball. "I've just made him one of the bunch. Several times lately you've threatened to quit unless you had your own way. And I've humored you like a baby, in the hopes that your mean- ness and injustice to Dyke would dawn on you. But it hasn't. And now I've called your bluff. I've put him on the team. What are you going to do about it?" The Hun's answer was to shuffle off noisily into the dressing room and slam the door behind him. Everybody looked surprised, and nobody was surprised. The ticking of the big clock above the gallery sounded out on the stillair like an auctioneer's hammer when the sale goes hard and he is anxious to get away. Dyke and the coach expected the very next tick of the clock to bring about an exit of three of the fel- lows who were unquestionably on the Hun's side. The trio them- selves were in two minds whether to follow their leader. The — Turk was on the fence, after his manner he did not know what to think. Fully nineteen ticks had counted themselves off when the voice of the coach broke the oppressive silence "Come here, fellows !" And five athletes surrounded him as expeditiously as if he had pressed a button for the appearance of five sawdust athletes out of a box. 518 IMPROVEMENT ERA "See here!" he said, "are you for the honor of the school or not?" He put the question first to one and then to another till he had gi me the rounds. were for the honor of the school. All "Good!" he went on. "Now, we've got'some stiff games to play this season. The stiffest, as you know, is the game with the Rosehill squad. That comes just four weeks from now. And if we win that game we've got to hustle. Turk, you take the Hun's place for the present." Turk pricked up his ears at the phrase "for the present." He said humorously, to nobody in "You're right; the particularly, ITun'll be back as soon as he knows nothing's happened if not — sooner !" The others smiled significantly. Turk's reading of the situation was as true as a gypsy for- tune teller's when she has gathered all the facts beforehand. For sooner even than the Turk's imaginative mind had ventured to expect, in trotted the Hun, his face wreathed in smiles, which he was endeavoring to make appear natural. Snatching the ball from his substitute, he quickly got into place and proceeded as if noth- ing out of the ordinary had occurred. "Glad you thought better of it," said the coach, offering him a pabulum. "It would be hard for us to get along without you." "Only joshin', you know," the Hun said to the coach. But to the Indian he told a different story. "I'll get his goat yet — see if I don't !" he whispered, loud enough for Dyke, who was close by, to hear. Dyke said nothing, but he thought, "We'll see, all right!" And he turned away on his toe from a ball which he had grace- fully tossed into the iron hoop. That evening Dyke remarked casually to his brother, "Guess I'llhave to get down now and scratch gravel." Bud, who had himself been a star on the Seagull team, asked, "You've made the team? I knew you would. Your work as sub last year merited nothing less than that. You should have been put on before. You would have but for the Hun and his stupid prejudice. I've always said it's a mistake to have four seniors and only one from another class on a team." "Or four juniors and one from any other class," Dyke inter- jected. "Yes," Bud admitted. And then, "They'll make it hot for you now." "The Hun threatened to do it," Dyke confirmed. And he told Bud of the whole episode at the gymnasium. "How do the other fellows act? It all depends on how they treat you." "They stick to the I Inn like burs, and you can't pull 'em off. A JUNIOR SUB 519 The wonder is that they didn't strike when he did. But I guess the fun and honor of it. all overcame their loyalty to him." "Or else they knew he'd come back," Bud put in. "Did you tellthe coach what Dad said?" "No that would only make matters worse. It would look like ; I was trying to force his hand." "That's so," his brother admitted. "All the same, Dad's right — you ought to get out of it altogether or get in and do some- thing." "That's what I'm going to do- — or die trying!" Dyke said, positively. "Sure!" And I'll help you." The young athlete looked at his brother curiously. Bud explained, "You've got to take extra training with Brunt. He'll make your flesh like iron and give you the endurance of a Chinese coolie. And I'll foot the bill." "Thanks, Bud. You're a brick!" Brunt was an ex-pugilist, with a punch that had been famous . in its time. He gave lessons in boxing and wrestling, and was much in requisition as an umpire in the ring, and in such emer- gencies as the present. During the next few weeks, therefore, till the end of the basket ball season, Dyke underwent the severest training and self- discipline. He was thus reaping the triple advantage of relieving the already overworked coach, of getting himself in splendid trim for the games, and of experiencing the always exquisite sensation of being about to spring a surprise. He trained every day with Brunt as well as with the coach of the Seagulls. He dieted care- fully. No matter what the temptation, he ate and drank nothing that would prevent him from attaining the highest efficiency of which he was capable. He kept. regular hours. Nine o'clock saw him in bed, except, of course, when he had a game. You couldn't drag him to a party with a cart rope, and no amount of whistling in certain ways outside the house could ever induce him to show his face there. In this manner his will was iron. And he kept up in all his studies, too, for the rules of the school and of the league were very strict in this respect. Clearly, Dyke was out after bear. Twelve o'clock on the night of the first game with the Rose- hillsfound Dyke Fenton softly pillowed and cushioned in a big chair and ample bandages, where he was likely to stay till morn- ing, if not longer "Would you believe it, Bud," he said, from out the chair and bandages, "but I didn't know I was hurt till I got nearly home And then— oh !" "I know," Bud sympathized; "I've been there." "How long did I stay on my back that last time?" 520 IMPROVEMENT ERA "I was too scared to ask. I thought once it was all up with vou." "Gee, but I'm happy!" Dyke silently enjoyed his happiness, and Bur! silently contemplated that happiness. "That old skate that guarded me," Dyke added, presently, "ought to be in foot- ball in'ste.vl of basket ball. He rolls himself up in a wad and then asks somebody to throw him at you !It's like dodging a cannon ball." "It was some game, all right!" Bud commented. "And we won !" "I'd rather have won that game than the pennant." "So'd I. But the next game will be harder still, and on their own floor, too. We've just got to win!" "The fellows'll have to cut out their politics, though, or else we won't," Dyke commented. "Did you see how hard they tried to freeze me out of the game? They just wouldn't throw me the ball till they had to." "Rotten!" cried Bud, "rotten!" "Anyone else notice it?" "Everybody talked about it where I was. It'd have gone hard — with the ilun if we'd lost it which we nearly did ' for they ; blamed the Hun. He'd have been mobbed, I really believe." "Once when I was right under the basket," Dyke went on, "and all alone, he passed the ball to the Indian, who wasn't any- where near." "Rotten ! rotten !" Bud repeated. "My, but the coach was hot. He roasted the Hun to a finish. Said if he did it again he'd send him out of the game on the spot. After that it wasn't so bad. Say, did you see that strange guy come up to me after the game and grab my hand ?" "That was Holt, an old star." "Well, all he said was, T used to play for S !' but he couldn't have said anything that would make me feel better. I could have swum in the air !" The papers next morning praised Dyke's work almost ex- travagantly. He was the star, one said. Another declared that but for his field throws the game would have gone to the Rose- hills. And a third spoke of Dyke's having to fight against great odds from his own team, and predicted great things for him when those odds were removed. "That'll be gall and wormwood for the Hun!" Dyke observed when these eulogies were read to him. ''Serves him right—the skunk!" echoed the resentful Bud. "Gee, but I'm happy!" came from the pillows again. The coolness with which Dyke was met by his fellow-players the next practice was increased, even if it was compensated for, by the unalloyed enthusiasm with which he had been greeted by A JUNIOR SUB 521 the school after the game. For the first time in three seasons the Hun had a fellow idol with the student body. Still there was a strong feeling against him on account of what he had done in the game with the Rosehills, even among his own personal friends. As for Dyke's followers, their open contempt for the Hun's tac- tics was like a fang sunk deep in the enemy's flesh. Their hopes and fears for their hero, however, flew apart. They doubted whether his slender, though wiry, frame could hold out. None of them knew of the ex-pugilist's work in flesh-toning. But they trusted that the spectacular plays of the last game were not the result of mere accident. And so there gradually sprang up in the large student body a feeling that more or less consciously looked forward to the out- come of this personal contest. Except only in the games with the Rosehills, their ancient enemy, interest thereatened to transfer itself from the game to the battle between Dyke and the Hun. But if they expected to see any visible evidences of the conflict, they were predestined to disappointment. For, although the Hun might be jealous and spiteful, he was not altogether a fool. Very early indeed he had discovered to be a huge blunder what he might have known as such beforehand. The towering indignation of the coach alone would have served to call him back to his senses. But it was left to the students to administer the extreme penalty. And this sentiment was shown, for the most part, in tumultous ridicule and sarcasm. His mortification was keen. Whatever embarrass- ments, therefore, Dyke might have to endure from his comrades of the ball, the Hun would see to it that they were of a sort that the school could hot easily detect. "Wonder what the next move is?" Bud asked., when his brother told him of the coolness of the team. "That's what I've been wondering?, too," Dyke confessed. "I'm sure they've got something up their sleeve." "What do they call you now?" asked Bud. — "Same's ever Mr. Fenton !" This was an allusion to the pet names by which the boys of the team called one another. From time out of mind the Seagull fellows had gone as foreigners — all except Dyke. The invidious distinction was made only in his case. There were the Hungarian, the Indian, the Swede, the Jew, and the Turk. The Turk, a soph- omore, was a sub. Dyke should have been named the Dane last year, and Ireland as soon this year as he had made the team. But he had not been. The fellows had studiously avoided giving him either of these distinguished titles, although the new sub who took Dyke's place had been instantly dubbed the Dane, as if to empha- size Dyke's outlawry. And all this, though he had said nothing to any one but his brother, sat like lead on his heart. It mav not be generally known, but it is nevertheless a fact, 522 IMPROVEMENT ERA Now, a beef, that in basket ball there is such a thing as a "beef." like achameleon, has the peculiar property of changing its color under varying circumstances. An error is an error, but a beef, well — From now on Mr. Fenton was forever making beefs! ! That the Seagulls won any games at all was in spite of Fenton's beefs, the fellows said. The wonder is that any game was won by the team. In the dressing room, coming out of the dressing — room, going into the dressing room everywhere, in fact, except on the floor itself, Dyke was bawled out good and plenty, as he told Bud. Only when Dyke supplanted the Hun in throwing the fouls did this species of persecution cease. That event took place in the third game with the Rosehills. — The sec6nd game the enemy had won because it was played on their own floor, of course. The Rosehills were silly enough to believe that their wad that had itself thrown at its guard had something to do with the victory ! The game went to them, any- how, and a third game had to be played on a neutral floor. It was in this latter contest, when the odds were fast going in favor of the Rosehills, that Dyke was told to throw all the fouls for the Seagulls. He did beautiful work in this capacity also. Out of seventeen throws he made sixteen baskets. And won the final margin for the Seagulls. But he had never said anything about their treatment of him — except of course to Bud. It would have done no good. Maybe it would have done harm. — And it was so hard harder than any other self-discipline he had made himself undergo. But he held out. was healing balm compared with what there was in Still this store for him. For the boys now prosecuted a systematic freeze- out. They carefully avoided him. None of them would speak to him unless he had to. He dressed in the same place, but they moved camp. And they talked about him. He could hear them all the time. Shafts of ridicule, poisoned arrows, reached him rough the. door, through the transom, between crevices. They tli hurt, but provoked no sign of the hurt. Only on the floor was there any comradery —and that was false. Always,everywhere else, there were two groups of Seagulls — one of six and one of one! Wherever the team went it was the same. Occasionally the Dane showed signs of a thaw, but presently a Hungarian northeaster blew on him, and the frost set in heavier than before. Once when the team went to Clearstream to play. Dyke, getting on the train last, took his seat with the bunch. One by one the rest got up and found another place. After that he always got on the train first. This cold snap continued till the team went to the tourn- ament at Landsdown. On that occasion Dyke entered the train first, as usual. And the team as usual filed past him in answer to the boisterous "Come A JUNIOR SUB 523 on, fellows!" of the Hun. Evidently, however, there was some dissension in camp, for Dyke could hear suppressed argu- little ment. He divined that it had some relation to him. Nor was his conjecture wrong. The Dane and the Jew pretty soon came back to where he sat and plumped themselves down in front of him. The Dane said "We're going to stop handing it out to you !" "I'm mighty glad of that!" Dyke confessed. "It's been blamed lonesome, I c'n tell you." Before the train pulled into the station the Swede joined the group. "Three Hungarians !" he drawled, significantly. "And four Irelands !" added the Dane. "We've christened Dyke Ireland." "Hurrah for Ireland!" approved the Swede. And the four shook hands solemnly. In previous games Dyke had proved his skill in throwing bas- kets and fouls. It remained to see whether he would have the en- durance of the other members of the team. The Seagulls belonged to two leagues. In order, therefore,, to win the pennants of both leagues, they would be required to play nine games hand-running. One pennant they had already won when they came to the tournament, playing six games in as many successive evenings. And some of the boys were beginning to show signs of fatigue. Would the Seagulls be able to hold out in the contest? The Overton boys, the only real rivals of the Sea- gulls, were counting on their giving out, and in this opinion a good many people shared. It was in the games of this tournament, therefore, that the enduring qualities of Dyke's nature and training were tested. And splendidly they bore the test !For, whereas all the other boys in his team were obviously glad when the referee's whistle blew for a momentary rest or for the end of the first or the second half, and trotted with tired joy into the dressing room, Dyke remained on his feet, playing with the ball the entire time of rest or of inter- val. When the others were dripping with perspiration, there was not a wet hair to be found on his body. Each game he ended as fresh as when he began it. His endurance was the standing mar- vel of the tournament. It surprised no one when the Overton team captured the pennant. On the way home the Indian forsook the ranks of the Hun. The staying qualities of the enemy proved the last straw with him. "How the "dickens did you do it, Dyke ?" he asked. Dyke told him of the ex-pugilist. Presently the Turk joined the enlarging group. The Hun held out to the last. So it came about that on most of the home-