"And the Rigour of the Game"

"And the Rigour of the Game" by Robert Barr is a thought-provoking exploration of the intersection between sports and life, delving into themes of competition, resilience, and personal growth. Through engaging narratives and insightful reflections, Barr examines how the principles and challenges faced in sports can mirror those encountered in everyday life. The book encourages readers to embrace the rigors of their own pursuits, offering inspiration to navigate both triumphs and setbacks with grace and determination.

• Short story

								
Old Mr. Saunders went home with bowed head and angry brow. He had not
known that Dick was in the habit of coming in late, but he had now no
doubt of the fact. He himself went to bed early and slept soundly, as a
man with a good conscience is entitled to do. But the boy's mother must
have known the hours he kept, yet she had said nothing; this made the
matter all the blacker. The father felt that mother and son were
leagued against him. He had been too lenient; now he would go to the
root of things. The young man would speedily change his ways or take
the consequences. There would be no half measures.

Poor old Mrs. Saunders saw, the moment her husband came in, that there
was a storm brewing, and a wild fear arose in her heart that her boy
was the cause. The first words of the old man settled the question.

"What time did Richard come in last night?"

"I--I don't know," she hesitated. "Shuffling" her husband always called
it. She had been a buffer between father and son since Dick was a
child.

"Why don't you know? Who let him in?"

She sighed. The secret had long weighed upon her, and she felt it would
come out at some hapless moment.

"He has a key," she said at last.

The old man glared in speechless amazement. In his angriest mood he had
never suspected anything so bad as this.

"A key! How long has he had a key?"

"About six months. He did not want to disturb us."

"He is very thoughtful! Where does he spend his nights?"

"I don't know. He told me he belongs to a club, where he takes some
kind of exercise."

"Did he tell you he exercised with cards? Did he say it was a gambling
club?"

"I don't believe it is; I am sure Dick doesn't gamble. Dick is a good
boy, father."

"A precious lot you know about it, evidently. Do you think his
employer, banker Hammond, has any idea his clerk belongs to a gambling
club?"

"I am sure I don't know. Is there any thing wrong? Has any one been
speaking to you about Dick?"

"Yes; and not to his credit."

"Oh dear!" cried the mother in anguish. "Was it Mr. Hammond?"

"I have never spoken to Hammond in my life," said the old man,
relenting a little when he saw how troubled his wife was. "No, I
propose to stop this club business before it gets to the banker's ears
that one of his clerks is a nightly attendant there. You will see
Richard when he comes home this evening; tell him I wish to have a word
or two with him to-night. He is to wait for me here. I will be in
shortly after he has had his supper."

"You will not be harsh with him, father. Remember, he is a young man
now, so please advise and do not threaten. Angry words can do no good."

"I will do my duty," said the old man, uncompromisingly.

Gentle Mrs. Saunders sighed--for she well knew the phrase about duty.
It was a sure prelude to domestic trouble. When the old gentleman
undertook to do his duty, he nailed his flag to the mast.

"See that he waits for me to-night," was the parting shot as the old
man closed the door behind him.

Mrs. Saunders had had her share of trouble in this world, as every
woman must who lives with a cantankerous man. When she could save her
son a harsh word, or even a blow, she was content to take either
uncomplainingly. The old man's severity had put him out of touch with
his son. Dick sullenly resented his boyhood of continual fear. During
recent years, when fear had gradually diminished and finally
disappeared, he was somewhat troubled to find that the natural
affection, which a son should have for his father, had vanished with
it. He had, on several occasions, made half-hearted attempts at a
better understanding, but these attempts had unfortunately fallen on
inopportune moments, when the old man was not particularly gracious
toward the world in general, and latterly there had been silence
between the two. The young man avoided his father as much as possible;
he would not have remained at home, had it not been for his mother. Her
steady, unwavering affection for him, her belief in him, and the
remembrance of how she had stood up for him, especially when he was in
the wrong, had bound her to him with bonds soft as silk and strong as
steel. He often felt it would be a pleasure to go wrong, merely to
refute his father's ideas regarding the way a child should be brought
up. Yet Dick had a sort of admiration for the old man, whose many good
qualities were somewhat overshadowed by his brutal temper.

When Richard came home that evening he had his supper alone, as was
usual with him. Mrs. Saunders drew her chair near the table, and while
the meal went on she talked of many things, but avoided the subject
uppermost in her mind, which she postponed until the last moment.
Perhaps after all she would not need to ask him to stay; he might
remain of his own accord. She watched him narrowly as she talked, and
saw with alarm that there was anxiety in his face. Some care was
worrying him, and she yearned to have him confide his trouble to her.
And yet she talked and talked of other things. She noticed that he made
but a poor pretence of eating, and that he allowed her to talk while he
made few replies, and those absent-mindedly. At last he pushed back his
chair with a laugh that sounded forced.

"Well, mother," he said, "what is it? Is there a row on, or is it
merely looming in the horizon? Has the Lord of Creation----"

"Hush, Dick, you mustn't talk in that way. There is nothing much the
matter, I hope? I want to speak with you about your club."

Dick looked sharply at his mother for a moment, then he said: "Well,
what does father want to know about the club? Does he wish to join?"

"I didn't say your father----"

"No, you didn't say it; but, my dear mother, you are as transparent as
glass. I can see right through you and away beyond. Now, somebody has
been talking to father about the club, and he is on the war-path. Well,
what does he want to know?"

"He said it was a gambling club."

"Right for once."

"Oh, Dick, is it?"

"Certainly it is. Most clubs are gambling clubs and drinking clubs. I
don't suppose the True Blues gamble more than others, but I'll bet they
don't gamble any less."

"Oh, Dick, Dick, I'm sorry to hear that. And, Dick, my darling boy, do
you----"

"Do I gamble, mother? No, I don't. I know you'll believe me, though the
old man won't. But it's true, nevertheless. I can't afford it, for it
takes money to gamble, and I'm not as rich as old Hammond yet."

"Oh yes, Dick dear, and that reminds me. Another thing your father
feared was that Mr. Hammond might come to know you were a member of the
club. It might hurt your prospects in the bank," she added, not wishing
to frighten the boy with the threat of the dismissal she felt sure

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