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diff --git a/13556-0.txt b/13556-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b4b8dcd --- /dev/null +++ b/13556-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6643 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13556 *** + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 13556-h.htm or 13556-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/5/5/13556/13556-h/13556-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/5/5/13556/13556-h.zip) + + + + + +BEHIND THE LINE + +A Story of College Life and Football + +by +RALPH HENRY BARBOUR +Author of _The Half-Back_, _Captain of the Crew_, and _For the Honor +of the School_ + +Illustrated by C.M. Relyea + +1902 + + + + + + + +[Illustration: A critical moment] + + +[Illustration] + + + +TO +MY MOTHER + + + +PREFATORY NOTE + +The Author takes pleasure in acknowledging his indebtedness to Mr. Lorin +F. Deland, of Boston, for the football play described in Chapter XV. + + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER + I.--HEROES IN MOLESKIN + II.--PAUL CHANGES HIS MIND + III.--IN NEW QUARTERS + IV.--NEIL MAKES ACQUAINTANCES + V.--AND SHOWS HIS METTLE + VI.--MILLS, HEAD COACH + VII.--THE GENTLE ART OF HANDLING PUNTS + VIII.--THE KIDNAPING + IX.--THE BROKEN TRICYCLE + X.--NEIL MAKES THE VARSITY + XI.--THE RESULT OF A FUMBLE + XII.--ON THE HOSPITAL LIST + XIII.--SYDNEY STUDIES STRATEGY + XIV.--MAKES A CALL + XV.--AND TELLS OF A DREAM + XVI.--ROBINSON SENDS A PROTEST + XVII.--A PLAN AND A CONFESSION +XVIII.--NEIL is TAKEN OUT + XIX.--ON THE EVE OF BATTLE + XX.--COWAN BECOMES INDIGNANT + XXI.--THE "ANTIDOTE" IS ADMINISTERED + XXII.--BETWEEN THE HALVES +XXIII.--NEIL GOES IN + XXIV.--AFTER THE BATTLE + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTKATIONS + +A critical moment (frontispiece) + +Getting settled + +The vine swayed at every strain + +Hiding his face, he cried for help + +"I guess you've broken down," said Neil + +Mills studied the diagram in silence + + + + + +CHAPTER I + +HEROES IN MOLESKIN + +"Third down, four yards to gain!" + +The referee trotted out of the scrimmage line and blew his whistle; the +Hillton quarter-back crouched again behind the big center; the other +backs scurried to their places as though for a kick. + +"_9--6--12!_" called quarter huskily. + +"Get through!" shrieked the St. Eustace captain. "Block this kick!" + +"_4--8!_" + +The ball swept back to the full, the halves formed their interference, +and the trio sped toward the right end of the line. For an instant the +opposing ranks heaved and struggled; for an instant Hillton repelled the +attack; then, like a shot, the St. Eustace left tackle hurtled through +and, avoiding the interference, nailed the Hillton runner six yards back +of the line. A square of the grand stand blossomed suddenly with blue, +and St. Eustace's supporters, already hoarse with cheering and singing, +once more broke into triumphant applause. The score-board announced +fifteen minutes to play, and the ball went to the blue-clad warriors on +Hillton's forty-yard line. + +Hillton and St. Eustace were once more battling for supremacy on the +gridiron in their annual Thanksgiving Day contest. And, in spite of the +fact that Hillton was on her own grounds, St. Eustace's star was in the +ascendant, and defeat hovered dark and ominous over the Crimson. With +the score 5 to in favor of the visitors, with her players battered and +wearied, with the second half of the game already half over, Hillton, +outweighted and outplayed, fought on with the doggedness born of despair +in an almost hopeless struggle to avert impending defeat. + +In the first few minutes of the first half St. Eustace had battered her +way down the field, throwing her heavy backs through the crimson line +again and again, until she had placed the pigskin on Hillton's +three-yard line. There the Hillton players had held stubbornly against +two attempts to advance, but on the third down had fallen victims to a +delayed pass, and St. Eustace had scored her only touch-down. The +punt-out had failed, however, and the cheering flaunters of blue banners +had perforce to be content with five points. + +Then it was that Hillton had surprised her opponents, for when the +Blue's warriors had again sought to hammer and beat their way through +the opposing line they found that Hillton had awakened from her daze, +and their gains were small and infrequent. Four times ere the half was +at an end St. Eustace was forced to kick, and thrice, having by the +hardest work and almost inch by inch fought her way to within scoring +distance of her opponent's goal, she met a defense that was impregnable +to her most desperate assaults. Then it was that the Crimson had waved +madly over the heads of Hillton's shrieking supporters and hope had +again returned to their hearts. + +In the second half Hillton had secured the ball on the kick-off, and, +never losing possession of it, had struggled foot by foot to within +fifteen yards of the Blue's goal. From there a kick from placement had +been tried, but Gale, Hillton's captain and right half-back, had been +thrown before his foot had touched the leather, and the St. Eustace +right-guard had fallen on the ball. A few minutes later a fumble +returned the pigskin to Hillton on the Blue's thirty-three yards, and +once more the advance was taken up. Thrice the distance had been gained +by plunges into the line and short runs about the ends, and once +Fletcher, Hillton's left half, had got away safely for twenty yards. But +on her eight-yard line, under the shadow of her goal, St. Eustace had +held bravely, and, securing the ball on downs, punted it far down the +field into her opponent's territory. Fletcher had run it back ten yards +ere he was downed, and from there it had gone six yards further by one +superb hurdle by the full-back. But St. Eustace had then held finely, +and on the third down, as has been told, Hillton's fake-kick play had +been demolished by the Blue's tackle, and the ball was once more in the +hands of St. Eustace's big center rush. + +On the side-line, his hands in his pockets and his short brier pipe +clenched firmly between his teeth, Gardiner, Hillton's head coach, +watched grimly the tide of battle. Things had gone worse than he had +anticipated. He had not hoped for too much--a tie would have satisfied +him; a victory for Hillton had been beyond his expectations. St. Eustace +far outweighed his team; her center was almost invulnerable and her back +field was fast and heavy. But, despite the modesty of his expectations, +Gardiner was disappointed. The plays that he had believed would prove to +be ground-gainers had failed almost invariably. Neil Fletcher, the left +half, on whom the head coach had placed the greatest reliance, had, with +a single exception, failed to circle the ends for any distance. To be +sure, the St. Eustace end rushes had proved more knowing than he had +given them credit for being, and so the fault was, after all, not with +Fletcher; but it was disappointing nevertheless. + +And, as is invariably the case, he saw where he had made mistakes in the +handling of his team; realized, now that it was too late, that he had +given too much attention to that thing, too little to this; that, as +things had turned out, certain plays discarded a week before would have +proved of more value than those substituted. He sighed, and moved down +the line to keep abreast of the teams, now five yards nearer the +Hillton goal. + +"Crozier must come out in a moment," said a voice beside him. He turned +to find Professor Beck, the trainer and physical director. "What a game +he has put up, eh?" + +Gardiner nodded. + +"Best quarter in years," he answered. "It'll weaken us considerably, but +I suppose it's necessary." There was a note of interrogation in the +last, and the professor heard it. + +"Yes, yes, quite," he replied. "The boy's on his last legs." Gardiner +turned to the line of substitutes behind them. + +"Decker!" + +The call was taken up by those nearest at hand, and the next instant a +short, stockily-built youth was peeling off his crimson sweater. The +referee's whistle blew, and while the mound of squirming players found +their feet again, Gardiner walked toward them, his hand on +Decker's shoulder. + +"Play slow and steady your team, Decker," he counseled. "Use Young and +Fletcher for runs; try them outside of tackle, especially on the right. +Give Gale a chance to hit the line now and then and diversify your plays +well. And, my boy, if you get that ball again, and of course you will, +_don't let it go_! Give up your twenty yards if necessary, only hang on +to the leather!" + +Then he thumped him encouragingly on the back and sped him forward. +Crozier, the deposed quarter-back, was being led off by Professor Beck. +The boy was pale of face and trembling with weariness, and one foot +dragged itself after the other limply. But he was protesting with tears +in his eyes against being laid off, and even the hearty cheers for him +that thundered from the stand did not comfort him. Then the game went +on, the tide of battle flowing slowly, steadily, toward the +Crimson's goal. + +"If only they don't score again!" said Gardiner. + +"That's the best we can hope for," said Professor Beck. + +"Yes; it's turned out worse than I expected." + +"Well, you can comfort yourself with the knowledge that they've played +as plucky a game against odds as I ever expect to see," answered the +other. "And we won't say die yet; there's still"--he looked at his +watch--there's still eight minutes." + +"That's good; I hope Decker will remember what I told him about runs +outside right tackle," muttered Gardiner anxiously. Then he relighted +his pipe and, with stolid face, watched events. + +St. Eustace was still hammering Hillton's line at the wings. Time and +again the Blue's big full-back plunged through between guard and +tackle, now on this side, now on that, and Hillton's line ever gave back +and back, slowly, stubbornly, but surely. + +"First down," cried the referee. "Five yards to gain." + +The pigskin now lay just midway between Hillton's ten-and fifteen-yard +lines. Decker, the substitute quarter-back, danced about under the +goal-posts. + +"Now get through and break it up, fellows!" he shouted. "Get through! +Get through!" + +But the crimson-clad line men were powerless to withstand the terrific +plunges of the foe, and back once more they went, and yet again, and the +ball was on the six-yard line, placed there by two plunges at +right tackle. + +"First down!" cried the referee again. + +Then Hillton's cup of sorrow seemed overflowing. For on the next play +the umpire's whistle shrilled, and half the distance to the goal-line +was paced off. Hillton was penalized for holding, and the ball was on +her three yards! + +From the section of the grand stand where the crimson flags waved came +steady, entreating, the wailing slogan: + +"_Hold, Hillton! Hold, Hillton! Hold, Hillton!_" + +Near at hand, on the side-line, Gardiner ground his teeth on the stem of +his pipe and watched with expressionless face. Professor Beck, at his +side, frowned anxiously. + +"Put it over, now!" cried the St. Eustace captain. "Tear them up, +fellows!" + +The quarter gave the signal, the two lines smashed together, and the +whistle sounded. The ball had advanced less than a yard. The Hillton +stand cheered hoarsely, madly. + +"Line up! Line up!" cried the Blue's quarter. "Signal!" + +Then it was that St. Eustace made her fatal mistake. With the memory of +the delayed pass which had won St. Eustace her previous touch-down in +mind, the Hillton quarter-back was on the watch. + +The ball went back, was lost to view, the lines heaved and strained. +Decker shot to the left, and as he reached the end of the line the St. +Eustace left half-back came plunging out of the throng, the ball +snuggled against his stomach. Decker, just how he never knew, squirmed +past the single interferer, and tackled the runner firmly about the +hips. The two went down together on the seven yards, the blue-stockinged +youth vainly striving to squirm nearer to the line, Decker holding for +all he was worth. Then the Hillton left end sat down suddenly on the +runner's head and the whistle blew. + +The grand stand was in an uproar, and cheers for Hillton filled the air. +Gardiner turned away calmly and knocked the ashes from his pipe. +Professor Beck beamed through his gold-rimmed glasses. Decker picked +himself up and sped back to his position. + +"_Signal_!" he cried. But a St. Eustace player called for time and the +whistle piped again. + +"If Decker tries a kick from there it'll be blocked, and they'll score +again," said Gardiner. "Our line can't hold. There's just one thing to +do, but I fear Decker won't think of it." He caught Gale's eye and +signaled the captain to the side-line. + +"What is it?" panted that youth, taking the nose-guard from his mouth +and tenderly nursing a swollen lip. Gardiner hesitated. Then-- + +"Nothing. Only fight it out, Gale. You've got your chance now!" Gale +nodded and trotted back. Gardiner smiled ruefully. "The rule against +coaching from the side-lines may be a good one," he muttered, "but I +guess it's lost this game for us." + +The whistle sounded and the lines formed again. + +"First down," cried the referee, jumping nimbly out of the way. Decker +had been in conference with the full-back, and now he sprang back to +his place. + +"Signal!" he cried. "_14--7--31_!" + +The Hillton full stood just inside the goal-line and stretched his hands +out. + +"_16--8_!" + +The center passed the pigskin straight and true to the full-back, but +the latter, instead of kicking it, stood as though bewildered while the +St. Eustace forwards plunged through the Hillton line as though it had +been of paper. The next moment he was thrown behind his goal-line with +the ball safe in his arms, and Gardiner, on the side-line, was smiling +contentedly. + +"Touch-back," cried Decker. "Line up on the twenty yards, fellows!" + +Hillton's ruse had won her a free kick, and in another moment the ball +was arching toward the St. Eustace goal. The Blue's left half secured +it, but was downed on his forty yards. The first attack netted four +yards through Hillton's left-guard, and the crimson flags drooped on +their staffs. On the next play St. Eustace's full-back hurdled the line +for two yards, but lost the pigskin, and amid frantic cries of "Ball! +Ball!" Fletcher, Hillton's left half, dropped upon it. The crimson +banners waved again, and Hillton voices once more took up the refrain of +Hilltonians, while hope surged back into loyal hearts. + +"Five minutes to play," said Professor Beck. Gardiner nodded. + +"Time enough to win in," he answered. + +Decker crouched again, chanted his signal, and the Hillton full plunged +at the blue-clad line. But only a yard resulted. + +"_Signal_!" cried the quarter. "_8--51--16--5_!" + +The ball came back into his waiting hands, was thrown at a short pass +to the left half, and, with right half showing the way and full-back +charging along beside, Fletcher cleared the line through a wide gap +outside of St. Eustace's right tackle and sped down the field while the +Hillton supporters leaped to their feet and shrieked wildly. The +full-back met the St. Eustace right half, and the two were left behind +on the turf. Beside Fletcher, a little in advance, ran the Hillton +captain and right half-back, Paul Gale. Between them and the goal, now +forty yards away, only the St. Eustace quarter remained, but behind them +came pounding footsteps that sounded dangerous. + +Gardiner, followed by the professor and a little army of privileged +spectators, raced along the line. + +"He'll make it," muttered the head coach. "They can't stop him!" + +One line after another went under the feet of the two players. The +pursuit was falling behind. Twenty yards remained to be covered. Then +the waiting quarter-back, white-faced and desperate, was upon them. But +Gale was equal to the emergency. + +"To the left!" he panted. + +Fletcher obeyed with weary limbs and leaden feet, and without looking +knew that he was safe. Gale and the St. Eustace player went down +together, and in another moment Fletcher was lying, faint but happy, +over the line and back of the goal! + +The stands emptied themselves on the instant of their triumphant burden +of shouting, cheering, singing Hilltonians, and the crimson banners +waved and fluttered on to the field. Hillton had escaped defeat! + +But Fortune, now that she had turned her face toward the wearers of the +Crimson, had further gifts to bestow. And presently, when the wearied +and crestfallen opponents had lined themselves along the goal-line, +Decker held the ball amid a breathless silence, and Hillton's right end +sent it fair and true between the uprights: Hillton, 6; Opponents, 5. + +The game, so far as scoring went, ended there. Four minutes later the +whistle shrilled for the last time, and the horde of frantic Hilltonians +flooded the field and, led by the band, bore their heroes in triumph +back to the school. And, side by side, at the head of the procession, +perched on the shoulders of cheering friends, swayed the two half-backs, +Neil Fletcher and Paul Gale. + + + +CHAPTER II + +PAUL CHANGES HIS MIND + +Two boys were sitting in the first-floor corner study in Haewood's. +Those who know the town of Hillton, New York, will remember Haewood's as +the large residence at the corner of Center and Village Streets, from +the big bow-window of which the occupant of the cushioned seat may look +to the four points of the compass or watch for occasional signs of life +about the court-house diagonally across. To-night--the bell in the tower +of the town hall had just struck half after seven--the occupants of the +corner study were interested in things other than the view. + +I have said that they were sitting. Lounging would be nearer the truth; +for one, a boy of eighteen years, with merry blue eyes and cheeks +flushed ruddily with health and the afterglow of the day's excitement, +with hair just the color of raw silk that took on a glint of gold where +the light fell upon it, was perched cross-legged amid the cushions at +one end of the big couch, two strong, tanned, and much-scarred hands +clasping his knees. His companion and his junior by but two months, a +dark-complexioned youth with black hair and eyes and a careless, +good-natured, but rather wilful face, on which at the present moment the +most noticeable feature was a badly cut and much swollen lower lip, lay +sprawled at the other end of the couch, his chin buried in one palm. + +Both lads were well built, broad of chest, and long of limb, with +bright, clear eyes, and a warmth of color that betokened the best of +physical condition. They had been friends and room-mates for two years. +This was their last year at Hillton, and next fall they were to begin +their college life together. The dark-complexioned youth rolled lazily +on to his back and stared at the ceiling. Then-- + +"I suppose Crozier will get the captaincy, Neil." + +The boy with light hair nodded without removing his gaze from the little +flames that danced in the fireplace. They had discussed the day's +happenings thoroughly, had relived the game with St. Eustace from start +to finish, and now the big Thanksgiving dinner which they had eaten was +beginning to work upon them a spell of dormancy. It was awfully jolly, +thought Neil Fletcher, to just lie there and watch the flames +and--and--He sighed comfortably and closed his eyes. At eight o'clock +he, with the rest of the victorious team, was to be drawn about the town +in a barge and cheered at, but meanwhile there was time to just close +his eyes--and forget--everything-- + +There was a knock at the study door. + +"Go 'way!" grunted Neil. + +"Oh, come in," called Paul Gale, without, however, removing his drowsy +gaze from the ceiling or changing his position. + +"I beg your pardon. I am looking for Mr. Gale, and--" + +Paul dropped his legs over the side of the couch and sat up, blinking at +the visitor. Neil followed his example. The caller was a carefully +dressed man of about thirty-five, scarcely taller than Neil, but broader +of shoulder. Paul recognized him, and, rising, shook hands. + +"How do you do, Mr. Brill? Glad to see you. Sit down, won't you? I guess +we were both pretty nigh asleep when you knocked." + +"Small wonder," responded the visitor affably. "After the work you did +this afternoon you deserve sleep, and anything else you want." He laid +aside his coat and hat and sank into the chair which Paul proffered. + +"By the way," continued the latter, "I don't think you've met my friend, +Neil Fletcher. Neil, this is Mr. Brill, of Robinson; one of their +coaches." The two shook hands. + +"I'm delighted to meet the hero--I should say one of the heroes--of the +day," said Mr. Brill. "That run was splendid; the way in which you two +fellows got your speed up before you reached the line was worth coming +over here to see, really it was." + +"Yes, Paul set a pretty good pace," answered Neil. + +The visitor discussed the day's contest for a few minutes, during which +Neil glanced uneasily from time to time at the clock, wondered what the +visitor wanted there, and heartily wished he'd take himself off. But +presently Mr. Brill got down to business. + +"You know we've had a little victory in football ourselves this fall," +he was saying. "We won from Erskine by 17 to 6 last week, and we're +feeling rather stuck up over it." + +"Wait till next year," said Neil to himself, "and you'll get over it." + +"And that," continued the coach, "brings me to the object of my call +tonight. Frankly, we want you two fellows at Robinson College, and I'm +here to see if we can't have you." He paused and smiled engagingly at +the boys. Neil glanced surprisedly at Paul, who was thoughtfully +examining the scars on his knuckles. "Don't decide until I've explained +matters more clearly," went on the visitor. "Perhaps neither of you have +been to Collegetown, but at least you know about where Robinson stands +in the athletic world, and you know that as an institution of learning +it is in the front rank of the smaller colleges; in fact, in certain +lines it might dispute the place of honor with some of the big ones. + +"To the fellow who wants a college where he can learn and where, at the +same time, he can give some attention to athletics, Robinson's bound to +recommend itself. I mention this because you know as well as I do that +there are colleges--I mention no names--where a born football player, +such as either of you, would simply be lost; where he would be tied down +by such stringent rules that he could never amount to anything on the +gridiron. I don't mean to say that at Robinson the faculty is lax +regarding standing or attendance at lectures, but I do say that it holds +common-sense views on the subject of college athletics, and does not +hound a man to death simply because he happens to belong to the football +eleven or the crew. + +"Robinson is always on the lookout for first-class football, baseball, +or rowing material, and she believes in offering encouragement to such +material. She doesn't favor underhand methods, you understand; no hiring +of players, no free scholarships--though there are plenty of them for +those who will work for them--none of that sort of thing. But she is +willing to meet you half-way. The proposition which I am authorized to +make is briefly this"--the speaker leaned forward, smiling frankly, and +tapped a forefinger on the palm of his other hand--"If you, Mr. Gale, +and you, Mr. Fletcher, will enter Robinson next September, the--ah--the +athletic authorities will guarantee you positions on the varsity eleven. +Besides this, you will be given free tutoring for the entrance exams, +and afterward, so long as you remain on the team, in any studies with +which you may have difficulty. Now, there is a fair, honest proposition, +and one which I sincerely trust you will accept. We want you both, and +we're willing to do all that we can--in honesty, that is--to get you. +Now, what do you say?" + +During this recital Neil's dislike of the speaker had steadily +increased, and now, under the other's smiling regard, he had difficulty +in keeping from his face some show of his emotions. Paul looked up from +his scarred knuckles and eyed Neil furtively before he turned to +the coach. + +"Of course," he said, "this is rather unexpected." + +The coach's eyes flickered for an instant with amusement. + +"For my part," Neil broke in almost angrily, "I'm due in September at +Erskine, and unless Paul's changed his mind since yesterday so's he." + +The Robinson coach raised his eyebrows in simulated surprise. + +"Ah," he said slowly, "Erskine?" + +"Yes, Erskine," answered Neil rather discourteously. A faint flush of +displeasure crept into Mr. Brill's cheeks, but he smiled as +pleasantly as ever. + +"And your friend has contemplated ruining his football career in the +same manner, has he?" he asked politely, turning his gaze as he spoke +on Paul. The latter fidgeted in his chair and looked over a trifle +defiantly at his room-mate. + +"I had thought of going to Erskine," he answered. "In fact"--observing +Neil's wide-eyed surprise at his choice of words--"in fact, I had +arranged to do so. But--but, of course, nothing has been settled +definitely." + +"But, Paul--" exclaimed Neil. + +"Well, I'm glad to hear that," interrupted Mr. Brill. "For in my opinion +it would simply be a waste of your opportunities and--ah--abilities, +Mr. Gale." + +"Well, of course, if a fellow doesn't have to bother too much about +studies," said Paul haltingly, "he can do better work on the team; there +can't be any question about that, I guess." + +"None at all," responded the coach. + +Neil stared at his chum indignantly. + +"You're talking rot," he growled. Paul flushed and returned his look +angrily. + +"I suppose I have the right to manage my own affairs?" he demanded. Neil +realized his mistake and, with an effort, held his peace. Mr. Brill +turned to him. + +"I fear there's no use in attempting to persuade you to come to us +also?" he said. Neil shook his head silently. Then, realizing that Paul +was quite capable, in his present fit of stubbornness, of promising to +enter Robinson if only to spite his room-mate, Neil used guile. + +"Anyhow, September's a long way off," he said, "and I don't see that +it's necessary to decide to-night. Perhaps we had both better take a day +or two to think it over. I guess Mr. Brill won't insist on a final +answer to-night." + +The Robinson coach hesitated, but then answered readily enough: + +"Certainly not. Think it over; only, if possible, let me hear your +decision to-morrow, as I am leaving town then." + +"Well, as far as I'm concerned," said Paul, "I don't see any use in +putting it off. I'm willing--" + +Neil jumped to his feet. A burst of martial music swept up to them as +the school band, followed by a host of their fellows, turned the corner +of the building. + +"Come on, Paul," he cried; "get your coat on. Mr. Brill will excuse us +if we leave him; we mustn't keep the fellows waiting. And we can think +the matter over, eh, Paul? And we'll let him know in the morning. Here's +your coat. Good-night, sir, good-night." He was holding the door open +and smiling politely. Paul, scowling, arose and shook hands with the +Robinson emissary. Neil kept up a steady stream of talk, and his chum +could only mutter vague words about his pleasure at Mr. Brill's call and +about seeing him to-morrow. When the door had closed behind him the +coach stood a moment in the hall and thoughtfully buttoned his coat. + +"I think I've got Gale all right," he said to himself, "but"--with a +slight smile--"the other chap was too smart for me. And, confound him, +he's just the sort we need!" + +When he reached the entrance he was obliged to elbow his way through a +solid throng of shouting youths who with excited faces and waving caps +and flags informed the starlight winter sky over and over that they +wanted Gale and Fletcher, to which demand the band lent hearty if rather +discordant emphasis. + + * * * * * + +A good deal happened in the next two hours, but nothing that is +pertinent to this narrative. Victorious Hillton elevens have been hauled +through the village and out to the field many times in past years, and +bonfires have flared and speeches have been made by players and faculty, +and all very much as happened on this occasion. Neil and Paul returned +to their room at ten o'clock, tired, happy, with the cheers and the +songs still echoing in their ears. + +Paul had apparently forgotten his resentment toward Neil and the whole +matter of Brill's proposition. But Neil hadn't, and presently, when they +were preparing for bed, he returned doggedly to the charge. + +"When did you meet that fellow Brill?" he asked. + +"In Gardiner's room this morning; he introduced us." Paul began to look +sulky again. "Seems a decent sort, I think," he added defiantly. Neil +accepted the challenge. + +"I dare say," he answered carelessly. "There's only one thing I've got +against him." + +"What's that?" questioned Paul suspiciously. + +"His errand." + +"What's wrong with his errand?" + +"Everything, Paul. You know as well as I that his offer is--well, it's +shady, to say the least. Who ever heard of a decent college offering +free tutoring in order to get fellows for its football team?" + +"Lots of them do," growled Paul. + +"No, they don't; not decent ones. Some do, I know; but they're not +colleges a fellow cares to go to. Every one knows what rotten shape +Robinson athletics are in; the papers have been full of it for two +years. Their center rush this fall, Harden, just went there to play on +the team, and everybody says that he got his tuition free. You don't +want to play on a team like that and have people say things like that +about you. I'm sure I don't." + +"Oh, you!" sneered Paul. "You're getting crankier and crankier every +day. I'll bet you're just huffy because Brill didn't ask you first." + +Neil flushed, but kept his temper. + +"You don't think anything of the sort, Paul. Besides--" + +"It looks that way," muttered Paul. + +"Besides," continued Neil calmly, "what's the advantage in going to +Robinson? We've arranged everything; we've got our rooms picked out at +Erskine; there are lots of fellows there we know; the college is the +best of its class and its athletics are honest. If you play on the +Erskine team you'll be somebody, and folks won't hint that you're +receiving money or free scholarships or something for doing it. And as +for Brill's guarantee of a place on the team, why, there's only one +decent way to get on a football team, and that's by good, hard work; and +there's no reason for doubting that you'll make the Erskine +varsity eleven." + +"Yes, there is, too," answered Paul angrily. "They've got lots of good +players at Erskine, and you and I won't stand any better show than a +dozen others." + +"I don't want to." + +"Huh! Well, I do; that is, I want to make the team. Besides, as Brill +said, if a fellow has the faculty after him all the time about studies +he can't do decent work on the team. I don't see anything wrong in it, +and--and I'm going. I'll tell Brill so to-morrow!" + +Neil drew his bath-robe about him, and looked thoughtfully into the +flames. So far he had lost, but he had one more card to play. He turned +and faced Paul's angry countenance. + +"Well, if I should go to Robinson and play on her team under the +conditions offered by that--by Brill I'd feel disgraced." + +"You'd better stay away, then," answered Paul hotly. + +"I wouldn't want to show my face around Hillton afterward, and if I met +Gardiner or 'Wheels' I'd take the other side of the street." + +"Oh, you would?" cried his room-mate. "You're trying to make yourself +out a little fluffy angel, aren't you? And I suppose I'm not good enough +to associate with you, am I? Well, if that's it, all I've got to say--" + +"But," continued Neil equably, "if you accept Brill's offer, so will I." + +Paul paused open-mouthed and stared at his chum. Then his eyes dropped +and he busied himself with a stubborn stocking. Finally, with a muttered +"Humph!" he gathered up his clothing and disappeared into the bedroom. +Neil turned and smiled at the flames and, finding his own apparel, +followed. Nothing more was said. Paul splashed the water about even more +than usual and tumbled silently into bed. Neil put out the study light +and followed suit. + +"Good-night," he said. + +"Good-night," growled Paul. + +It had been a hard day and an exciting one, and Neil went to sleep +almost as soon as his head touched the pillow. It seemed hours later, +though in reality but some twenty minutes, that he was awakened by +hearing his name called. He sat up quickly. + +"Hello! What?" he shouted. + +"Shut up," answered Paul from across in the darkness. "I didn't know you +were asleep. I only wanted to say--to tell you--that--that I've decided +not to go to Robinson!" + + + +CHAPTER III + +IN NEW QUARTERS + +Almost every one has heard of Erskine College. For the benefit of the +few who have not, and lest they confound it with Williams or Dartmouth +or Bowdoin or some other of its New England neighbors, it may be well to +tell something about it. Erskine College is still in its infancy, as New +England universities go, with its centennial yet eight years distant. +But it has its own share of historic associations, and although the big +elm in the center of the campus was not planted until 1812 it has shaded +many youths who in later years have by good deeds and great +accomplishments endeared themselves to country and alma mater. + +In the middle of the last century, when Erskine was little more than an +academy, it was often called "the little green school at Centerport." It +is not so little now, but it's greener than ever. Wide-spreading elms +grow everywhere; in serried ranks within the college grounds, in smaller +detachments throughout the village, in picket lines along the river and +out into the country. The grass grows lush wherever it can gain hold, +and, not content with having its own way on green and campus, is forever +attempting the conquest of path and road. The warm red bricks of the +college buildings are well-nigh hidden by ivy, which, too, is an ardent +expansionist. And where neither grass nor ivy can subjugate, soft, +velvety moss reigns humbly. + +In the year 1901, which is the period of this story, the enrolment in +all departments at Erskine was close to six hundred students. The +freshman class, as had been the case for many years past, was the +largest in the history of the college. It numbered 180; but of this +number we are at present chiefly interested in only two; and these two, +at the moment when this chapter begins--which, to be exact, is eight +o'clock of the evening of the twenty-fourth day of September in the year +above mentioned--were busily at work in a first-floor study in the +boarding-house of Mrs. Curtis on Elm Street. + +It were perhaps more truthful to say that one was busily at work and the +other was busily advising and directing. Neil Fletcher stood on a small +table, which swayed perilously from side to side at his every movement, +and drove nails into an already much mutilated wall. Paul Gale sat in a +hospitable armchair upholstered in a good imitation of green leather and +nodded approval. + +"That'll do for 'Old Abe'; now hang The First Snow a bit to the left and +underneath." + +"The First Snow hasn't any wire on it," complained Neil. "See if you +can't find some." + +"Wire's all gone," answered Paul. "We'll have to get some more. Where's +that list? Oh, here it is. 'Item, picture wire.' I say, what in +thunder's this you've got down--'Ring for waistband'?" + +"Rug for wash-stand, you idiot! I guess we'll have to quit until we get +some more wire, eh? Or we might hang a few of them with boot-laces and +neckties?" + +"Oh, let's call it off. I'm tired," answered Paul with a grin. "The room +begins to look rather decent, doesn't it? We must change that couch, +though; put it the other way so the ravelings won't show. And that +picture of--" + +But just here Neil attempted to step from the table and landed in a heap +on the floor, and Paul forgot criticism in joyful applause. + +"Oh, noble work! Do it again, old man; I didn't see the take-off!" + +But Neil refused, and plumping himself into a wicker rocking-chair that +creaked complainingly, rubbed the dust from his hands to his trousers +and looked about the study approvingly. + +"We're going to be jolly comfy here, Paul," he said. "Mrs. Curtis is +going to get a new globe for that fixture over there." + +[Illustration] + +"Then we will be," said Paul. "And if she would only find us a +towel-rack that didn't fall into twelve separate pieces like a Chinese +puzzle every time a chap put a towel on it we'd be simply reveling +in luxury." + +"I think I can fix that thing with string," answered Neil. "Or we might +buy one of those nickel-plated affairs that you screw into the wall." + +"The sort that always dump the towels on to the floor, you mean? Yes, we +might. Of course, they're of no practical value judged as towel-racks, +but they're terribly ornamental. You know we had one in the bath-room at +the beach. Remember? When you got through your bath and groped round for +the towel it was always lying on the floor just out of reach." + +"Yes, I remember," answered Neil, smiling. "We had rather a good time, +didn't we, at Seabright? It was awfully nice of you to ask me down +there, Paul; and your folks were mighty good to me. Next summer I want +you to come up to New Hampshire and see us for a while. Of course, we +can't give you sea bathing, and you won't look like a red Indian when +you go home, but we could have a good time just the same." + +"Red Indian yourself!" cried Paul. "You're nearly twice as tanned as I +am. I don't see how you did it. I was there pretty near all summer and +you stayed just three weeks; and look at us! I'm as white as a sheet +of paper--" + +"Yes, brown paper," interpolated Neil. + +"And you have a complexion like a--a football after a hard game." + +Neil grinned, then-- + +"By the way," he said, "did I tell you I'd heard from Crozier?" + +"About Billy and the ducks? And Gordon's not going back to Hillton? Yes, +you got that at the beach; remember?" + +"So I did. 'Old Cro' will be up to his ears in trouble pretty soon, +won't he? I'm glad they made him captain, awfully glad. I think he can +turn out a team that'll rub it into St. Eustace again just as you did +last year." + +"Yes; and Gardiner's going to coach again." Paul smiled reminiscently. +Then, "By Jove, it does seem funny not to be going back to old Hillton, +doesn't it? I suppose after a while a fellow'll get to feeling at home +here, but just at present--" He sighed and shook his head. + +"Wait until college opens to-morrow and we get to work; we won't have +much time to feel much of anything, I guess. Practise is called for four +o'clock. I wonder--I wonder if we'll make the team?" + +"Why not?" objected Paul. "If I thought I wouldn't I think I'd pitch it +all up and--and go to Robinson!" He grinned across at his chum. + +"You stay here and you'll get a chance to go _at_ Robinson; that's a +heap more satisfactory." + +"Well, I'm going to make the varsity, Neil. I've set my heart on that, +and what I make up my mind to do I sometimes most always generally do. +I'm not troubling, my boy; I'll show them a few tricks about playing +half-back that'll open their eyes. You wait and see!" + +Neil looked as though he was not quite certain as to that, but said +nothing, and Paul went on: + +"I wonder what sort of a fellow this Devoe is?" + +"Well, I've never seen him, but we know that he's about as good an end +as there is in college to-day; and I guess he's bound to be the right +sort or they wouldn't have made him captain." + +"He's a senior, isn't he?" + +"Yes; he's played only two years, and they say he's going into the Yale +Law School next year. If he does, of course he'll get on the team there. +Well, I hope he'll take pity on two ambitious but unprotected +freshmen and--" + +There was a knock at the study door and Paul jumped forward and threw it +open. A tall youth of twenty-one or twenty-two years of age stood in +the doorway. + +"I'm looking for Mr. Gale and Mr. Fletcher. Have I hit it right?" + +"I'm Gale," answered Paul, "and that's Fletcher. Won't you come in?" The +visitor entered. + +"My name's Devoe," he explained smilingly. "I'm captain of the football +team this year, and as you two fellows are, of course, going to try for +the team, I thought we'd better get acquainted." He accepted the squeaky +rocking-chair and allowed Paul to take his straw hat. Neil thought he'd +ought to shake hands, but as Devoe made no move in that direction he +retired to another seat and grinned hospitably instead. + +"I've heard of the good work you chaps did for Hillton last year, and I +was mighty glad when I learned from Gardiner that you were coming +up here." + +"You know Gardiner?" asked Neil. + +"No, I've never met him, but of course every football man knows who he +is. He wrote to me in the spring that you were coming, and rather +intimated that if I knew my business I'd keep an eye on you and see that +you didn't get lost in the shuffle. So here I am." + +"He didn't say anything about having written," pondered Neil. + +"Oh, he wouldn't," answered Devoe. "Well, how do you like us as far as +you've seen us?" + +"We only got here yesterday," replied Paul. "I think it looks like +rather a jolly sort of place; awfully pretty, you know, +and--er--historic." + +"Yes, it is pretty; historic too; and it's the finest young college in +the country, bar none," answered Devoe. "You'll like it when you get +used to it. I like it so well I wish I wasn't going to leave it in the +spring. Very cozy quarters you have here." He looked about the study. + +"They'll do," answered Neil modestly. "Of course we couldn't get rooms +in the Yard, and we liked this as well as anything we saw outside. The +view's rather good from the windows." + +"Yes, I know; you have the common and pretty much the whole college in +sight; it is good." Devoe brought his gaze back and fixed it on Neil. +"You played left half, didn't you?" + +"Yes." + +"What's your weight?" + +"I haven't weighed this summer," answered Neil. "In the spring I was a +hundred and sixty-two." + +"Good. We need some heavy backs. How about you, Gale?" + +"About a hundred and sixty." + +"Of course I haven't seen the new material yet," continued Devoe, "but +the last year's men we have are a bit light, take them all around. +That's what beat us, you see; Robinson had an unusually heavy line and +rather heavy backs. They plowed through us without trouble." + +Neil studied the football captain with some interest. He saw a tall and +fairly heavy youth, with well-set head and broad shoulders. He looked +quite as fast on his feet as rumor credited him with being, and his dark +eyes, sharp and steady in their regard, suggested both courage and +ability to lead. His other features were strong, the nose a trifle +heavy, the mouth usually unsmiling, the chin determined, and the +forehead, set off by carefully brushed dark-brown hair, high and broad. +After the first few moments of conversation Devoe devoted his attention +principally to Neil, questioning him regarding Gardiner's coaching +methods, about Neil's experience on the gridiron, as to what studies he +was taking up. Occasionally he included Paul in the conversation, but +that youth discovered, with surprise and chagrin, that he was apparently +of much less interest to Devoe than was Neil. After a while he dropped +out of the talk altogether, save when directly appealed to, and sat +silent with an expression of elaborate unconcern. At the end of half an +hour Devoe arose. + +"I must be getting on," he announced. "I'm glad we've had this talk, and +I hope you'll both come over some evening and call on me; I'm in Morris, +No. 8. We've got our work cut out this fall, and I hope we'll all pull +together." He smiled across at Paul, evidently unaware of having +neglected that young gentleman in his conversation. "Good-night. Four +o'clock to-morrow is the hour." + +"I never met any one that could ask more questions than he can," +exclaimed Neil when Devoe was safely out of hearing. "But I suppose +that's the way to learn, eh?" + +Paul yawned loudly and shrugged his shoulders. + +"Funny he should have come just when we were talking about him, wasn't +it?" Neil pursued. "What do you think of him?" + +"Well, if you ask me," Paul answered, "I think he's a conceited, +stuck-up prig!" + + + +CHAPTER IV + +NEIL MAKES ACQUAINTANCES + +Neil's and Paul's college life began early the next morning when, +sitting side by side in the dim, hushed chapel, they heard white-haired +Dr. Garrison ask for them divine aid and guidance. Splashes and flecks +of purple and rose and golden light rested here and there on bowed head +and shoulders or lay in shafts across the aisles. From where he sat Neil +could look through an open window out into the morning world of greenery +and sunlight. On the swaying branch of an elm that almost brushed the +casement a thrush sang sweet and clear a matin of his own. Neil made +several good resolutions that morning there in the chapel, some of which +he profited by, all of which he sincerely meant. And even Paul, far less +impressionable than his friend, looked uncommonly thoughtful all the way +back to their room, a way that led through the elm-arched nave of +College Place and across the common with its broad expanses of +sun-flecked sward and its simple granite shaft commemorating the heroes +of the civil war. + +At nine o'clock, with the sound of the pealing bell again in their ears, +with their books under their arms and their hearts beating a little +faster than usual with pleasurable excitement, they retraced their path +and mounted the well-worn granite steps of College Hall for their first +recitation. What with the novelty of it all the day passed quickly +enough, and four o'clock found the two lads dressed in football togs and +awaiting the beginning of practise. + +There were some sixty candidates in sight, boys--some of them men as far +as years go--of all sizes and ages, several at the first glance +revealing the hopelessness of their ambitions. The names were taken and +fall practise at Erskine began. + +The candidates were placed on opposite sides of the gridiron, and half a +dozen footballs were produced. Punting and catching punts was the order +of the day, and Neil was soon busily at work. The afternoon was warm, +but not uncomfortably so, the turf was springy underfoot, the sky was +blue from edge to edge, the new men supplied plenty of amusement in +their efforts, the pigskins bumped into his arms in the manner of old +friends, and Neil was happy as a lark. After one catch for which he had +to run back several yards, he let himself out and booted the leather +with every ounce of strength. The ball sailed high in a long arching +flight, and sent several men across the field scampering back into the +grand stand for it. + +"I guess you've done that before," said a voice beside him. A short, +stockily-built youth with a round, smiling face and blue eyes that +twinkled with fun and good spirits was observing him shrewdly. + +"Yes," answered Neil, "I have." + +"I thought so," was the reply. "But you're a freshman, aren't you?" + +"Yes," answered Neil, turning to let a low drive from across the +gridiron settle into his arms. "And I guess you're not." + +"No, this is my third year. I've been on the team two." He paused to +send a ball back, and then wiped the perspiration from his forehead. "I +was quarter last year." + +"Oh," said Neil, observing his neighbor with interest, "then you're +Foster?" + +"That's me. What are you trying for?" + +"Half-back. I played three years at Hillton." + +"Of course; you're the fellow Bob Devoe was talking about--or one of +them; I think he said there were two of you. Which one are you?" + +"I'm the other one," laughed Neil. "I'm Fletcher. That's Gale over +there, the fellow in the old red shirt; he was our captain at Hillton +last year." + +Foster looked across at Paul and then back at Neil. He was evidently +comparing them. He shook his head. + +"It's a good thing he's got dark hair and you've got light," he said. +"Otherwise you wouldn't know yourselves apart; you're just of a height +and build, and weight, too, I guess. Are you related?" + +"No. But we are pretty much the same height and weight. He's half an +inch taller, and I think I weigh two pounds more." + +In the intervals of catching and returning punts the acquaintance +ripened. When, at the end of three-quarters of an hour, Devoe gave the +order to quit and the trainer sent them twice about the gridiron on a +trot, Neil found Foster ambling along beside him. + +"Phew!" exclaimed the latter. "I guess I lived too high last summer and +put on weight. This is taking it out of me finely; I can feel whole +pounds melting off. It doesn't seem to bother you any," he added. + +"No, I haven't much flesh about me," panted Neil; "but I'm glad this is +the last time around, just the same!" + +After their baths in the little green-roofed locker-house the two walked +back to the yard together, Paul, as Neil saw, being in close +companionship with a big youth whose name, according to Foster, was +Tom Cowan. + +"He played right-guard last year," said Foster. "He's a soph; this is +his third year." + +"Third year!" exclaimed Neil. "But how--" + +"Oh, Cowan was too busy to pass his exams last year," said Foster with a +grin. "So they let him stay a soph. He doesn't care; a little thing +like that never bothers Cowan." His tone was rather contemptuous. + +"Is he liked?" Neil asked. + +"Oh, yes; he's very popular among a small and select circle of +friends--a very small circle." Then he dismissed Cowan with an airy wave +of one hand. "By the way," he continued, "have you any candidate for the +presidency of your class?" + +"No," Neil replied. "I haven't heard anything about it yet." + +"Good; then you can vote for 'Fan' Livingston. He's a _protégé_ of mine, +you see; used to know him at St. Mathias; you'll like him. He's an +awfully good, manly, straightforward chap, just the fellow for the +place. The election comes off next Thursday evening. How about +your friend?" + +"Gale? I don't think he has any one in view. I guess you can count on +his vote, too." + +"Thanks; just mention it to him, will you? I'm booming Livingston, and I +want to see him win. Can't you come round some evening the first of the +week? I'd like you to meet him. And meanwhile just talk him up a bit, +will you?" + +Neil promised and made an appointment to meet the candidate the +following Saturday night at Foster's room in McLean Hall. The two parted +at the gate, Foster going up to his room and Neil traversing the campus +and the common to his own quarters. As he opened the study door he was +surprised to hear voices within. Paul and his new acquaintance, Tom +Cowan, were sitting side by side on the window-seat. + +"Hello," greeted the former. "How'd it go? Like old times, wasn't it? +Neil, I want you to meet Mr. Cowan. Cowan has quarters up-stairs here. +He's an old player, and we've been telling each other how good we are." + +Cowan looked for an instant as though he didn't quite appreciate the +latter remark, but summoned a smile as he shook hands with Neil and +complimented him on his playing in Hillton's last game with St. Eustace. +Neil replied with extraordinary politeness. He was always +extraordinarily polite to persons he didn't fancy, and his dislike of +Cowan was instant and hearty. Cowan looked to be fully twenty-three +years old, and owned to being twenty-one. He was fully six feet two, and +apparently weighed about two hundred pounds. His face was rather +handsome in a coarse, heavy-featured style, and his hands, as Neil +observed, were not quite clean. Later, Neil discovered that they +never were. + +After listening politely for some moments to Cowan's tales of former +football triumphs and defeats, in all of which the narrator played, +according to his words, a prominent part, Neil broke into the stream of +his eloquence and told Paul of his meeting with Foster, and of their +talk regarding the freshman presidency. + +"Well," answered Paul, smiling at Cowan, "you'll have to get out of that +promise to Foster or whatever his name is, because we've got a plan +better than that. The fact is, Neil, I'm going to try for the +presidency myself!" + +"I suppose you're fooling?" gasped Neil. + +"Not a bit! Why shouldn't I have a fling at it? Cowan here has promised +to help; in fact, it was he that suggested it. With his help and yours, +and with the kind assistance of one or two fellows I know here, I dare +say I can pull out on top. Anyhow, there's no harm in trying." + +"I think you'll win," said Cowan. "This chump Livingston that Foster is +booming is a regular milksop; does nothing but grind, so they say; came +out of St. Mathias with all kinds of silly prizes and such. What the +fellows always want is a good, popular chap that goes in for athletics +and that will make a name for himself." + +"Foster said Livingston was something of a dab at baseball," said Neil. + +"Baseball!" cried Cowan. "What's baseball? Why not puss-in-the-corner? A +chap with a football reputation like Gale here can walk all round your +baseball man. We'll carry it with a rush! You'll see! Freshmen are like +a lot of sheep--show 'em the way and they'll fall over themselves to +get there." + +"Well, we're freshmen ourselves, you know," said Neil sweetly. Cowan +looked nonplussed for a moment. Then-- + +"Oh, but you fellows are different; you've got sense. I was speaking of +the general run of freshmen," he explained. + +"Thanks," murmured Neil. Paul scented danger. + +"I'll put the campaign in your hands and Cowan's, Neil," he said. "You +know several fellows here--there's Wallace and Knowles and Jones. +They're not freshmen, but they can give you introductions. Knowles is a +St. Agnes man and there are lots of St. Agnes fellows in our class." + +"I think you're making a mistake," answered Neil soberly, "and I wish +you'd give it up. Livingston's got lots of supporters, and he's had his +campaign under way for a week. If you're defeated I think it'll hurt +you; fellows don't like defeated candidates when--when they're +self-appointed candidates." + +"Oh, of course, if you don't want to help," cried Paul, with a trace of +anger in his voice, "I guess we can get on without you." + +"I'm sure you won't desert your chum, Fletcher," said Cowan. "And I +think you're all wrong about defeated candidates. If a fellow makes a +good fight and is worsted no fellow that isn't a cad does other than +honor him." + +"Well, if you've made up your mind, Paul," answered Neil reluctantly, +"of course I'll do all I can if Foster will let me out of my promise +to him." + +"Oh, hang Foster!" cried Cowan. "He's a little fool!" + +"Is he?" asked Neil innocently. "I hadn't noticed it. Well, as I say, +I'll do all I can. And I'll begin now by going over to see him." + +"That's the boy," said Paul. "Tell Foster there's a dark horse in the +field." + +"And tell him I say the dark horse will win," added Cowan. + +Neil smiled back politely from the doorway. + +"I don't think I'd better mention your name, Mr. Cowan." He closed the +door behind him, leaving Cowan much puzzled as to the meaning of the +last remark, and sought No. 12 McLean. He found the varsity quarter-back +writing a letter by means of a small typewriter, his brow heavily +creased with scowls and his feet kicking exasperatedly at the legs of +his chair. + +"Hello," was Foster's greeting. "Come in. And, I say, just look around +on the floor there, will you, and see if you can find an L." + +"Find what?" asked Neil, searching the carpet with his gaze. + +"An L. There was one on this pesky machine a while ago, but +I--can't--find--Ah, here it is! 'L-O-V-I-N-G-L-Y, T-E-D'! There, that's +done. I bought this idiotic thing because some one said you could write +letters on it in half the time it takes with a pen. Well, I began this +letter last night, and I guess I've spent fully two hours on it +altogether. For two cents I'd pitch it out the window!" He pushed back +his chair and glared vindictively at the typewriter. "And look at the +result!" He held up a sheet of paper half covered with strange +characters and erasures. "Look how I've spelled 'allowance'--alliwzee! +Do you think dad will know what I mean?" + +Neil shook his head dubiously. + +"Not unless he's looking for the word," he answered. + +"Well, he will be," grinned Foster. "Don't suppose you want to buy a +fine typewriter at half price, do you?" + +Neil was sure he didn't and broached the subject of his call. Foster +showed some amazement when he learned of Gale's candidacy, but at once +absolved Neil from his promise. + +"Frankly, Fletcher, I don't think your friend has the ghost of a show, +you know, but, of course, if he wants to try it it's all right. And I'm +just as much obliged to you." + +During the next week Neil worked early and late for Paul's success. He +made some converts, but not enough to give him much hope. Livingston was +easily the popular candidate for the presidency, and Neil failed to +understand where Cowan found ground for the encouraging reports that he +made to Paul. Paul himself was hopeful all the way through, and lent ill +attention to Neil's predictions of failure. + +"You always were a raven, chum," he would exclaim. "Wait until Thursday +night." + +And Neil, without much hope, waited. + + + +CHAPTER V + +AND SHOWS HIS METTLE + +The freshman election took place in one of the lecture rooms of Grace +Hall. There was a full attendance of the entering class, while the +absence of sophomores was considered by those who had heard of former +freshman elections at Erskine as something unnatural and of +evil portent. + +Paul, robbed of the support of Tom Cowan's presence, was noticeably ill +at ease, and for the first time appeared to be in doubt as to his +election. Fanwell Livingston was put in nomination by one of his St. +Mathias friends in a speech that secured wide applause, and the +nomination was duly seconded by a red-headed and very eloquent youth +who, so Neil learned, was King, the captain of the St. Mathias baseball +team of the preceding spring. + +"Are there any more nominations?" asked the chairman, a member of the +junior class. + +South, a Hillton boy, arose and spoke at some length of the courage and +ability for leadership of one of whom they had all heard; "of one who +on the white-grilled field of battle had successfully led the hosts of +Hillton Academy against the St. Eustace hosts." (Two St. Eustace +graduates howled derisively.) South ended in a wild burst of flowery +eloquence and placed in nomination "that triumphant football captain, +that best of good fellows, Paul Dunlop Gale!" + +The applause which followed was flattering, though, had Paul but known +it, it was rather for the speech than the nominee. And the effect was +somewhat marred by several inquiries from different parts of the hall as +to who in thunder Gale was. Neil secured recognition ere the applause +had subsided, and seconded the nomination. He avoided rhetoric, and told +his classmates in few words and simple phrases that Paul Gale possessed +pluck, generalship, and executive ability; that he had proved this at +Hillton, and, given the chance, would prove it again at Erskine. + +"Gale is a stranger to many of you fellows," he concluded, "but, whether +you make him class president or whether you give that honor to another, +he won't be a stranger long. A fellow that can pilot a Hillton football +team to victory against almost overwhelming odds and through the +greatest of difficulties as Gale did last year is not the sort to sit +around in corners and watch the procession go by. No, sir; keep your eye +on him. I'll wager that before the year's out you'll be prouder of him +than of any man in your class. And, meanwhile, if you're looking for +the right man for the presidency, a man that'll lead 1905 to a renown +beside which the other classes will look like so many battered +golf-balls, why, I've told you where to look." + +Neil sat down amid a veritable roar of applause, and Paul, totally +unembarrassed by the praise and acclaim, smiled with satisfaction. "That +was all right, chum," he whispered. "I guess we've got them on the +run, eh?" + +But Neil shook his head doubtfully. Cries of "Vote! Vote!" arose, and in +a moment or two the balloting began. While this was proceeding +announcement was made that the annual Freshman Class Dinner would be +held on the evening of the following Monday, October 7th. When the +cheers occasioned by this information had subsided the chairman arose. + +"The result of the balloting, gentlemen," he announced, "is as follows: +Livingston, 97; Gale, 45. Mr. Livingston is elected by a majority +of 52." + +Shouts of "Livingston! Livingston! Speech! Speech!" filled the air, and +were not stilled until some one arose and announced that the +president-elect was not in the hall. Paul, after a glance of +bewilderment at Neil, had sat silent in his chair with something between +a sneer and a scowl on his face. Now he jumped up. + +"Come on; let's get out of here," he muttered. "They act like a lot of +idiots." Neil followed, and they found themselves in a pushing throng at +the door. The chairman was vainly clamoring for some one to put a motion +to adjourn, but none heeded him. The crowd pushed and shoved, but made +no progress. + +"Open that door," cried Paul. + +"Try it yourself," answered a voice up front. "It's locked!" + +A murmur arose that quickly gave place to cries of wrath and +indignation. "The sophs did it!" "Where are they?" "Break the door +down!" Those at the rear heaved and pushed. + +"Stop shoving, back there!" yelled those in front. "You're squashing us +flat." + +"Everybody away from the door!" shouted Neil. "Let's see if we can't get +it open." The fellows finally fell back to some extent, and Neil, Paul, +and some of the others examined the lock. The key was still there, but, +unfortunately, on the outside. Breaking the door down was utterly out of +the question, since it was of solid oak and several inches thick. The +self-appointed committee shook its several heads. + +"We'll have to yell for the janitor," said Neil. "Where does he hang +out?" + +But none knew. Neil went to one of the three windows and raised it. +Instantly a chorus of derision floated up from below. Gathered almost +under the windows was a throng of sophomores, their upturned faces just +visible in the darkness. + +"O Fresh! O Fresh!" "Want to come down?" "Why don't you jump?" These +gibes were followed by cheers for "'04" and loud groans. Neil turned and +faced his angry classmates. + +"Look here, fellows," he said, "we don't want to have to yell for the +janitor with those sophs there; that's too babyish. The key's in the +outside of the lock. I think I can get down all right by the ivy, and +I'll unlock the door if those sophs will let me. If two or three of you +will follow I guess we can do it all right." + +"Bully for you!" "Plucky boy!" cried the audience. But for a moment none +came forward to share the risk. Then Paul pushed his way to the window. + +"Here, I'll go with you, chum," he said, with a suggestion of swagger. +"We can manage those dubs down there alone. The rest of you can sit down +and tell stories; we'll let you out in a minute," he added scathingly. + +"That's Gale," whispered some one. "Fresh kid!", added another angrily. +But the gibe had the desired effect. Four other freshmen signified their +willingness to die for their class, and Neil climbed on to the broad +window-sill. His reappearance was the signal for another outburst from +the watching sophomores. + +"Don't jump, sonny; you may hurt yourself." "He's going to fly, fellows! +Good little Freshie's got wings!" "Say, we'll let you out in the +morning! Good-night!" + +But when Neil, divesting himself of coat and shoes, swung out and laid +hold of the largest of the big ivy branches that clung there to the +wall, the jeers died away. The hall where the meeting had been held was +on the third floor, and when Neil stepped from the window-sill he hung +fully twenty-five feet from the ground. The ivy branch, ages old, was +almost as large as his wrist, and quite strong enough to bear his weight +just as long as it did not tear from its fastenings. Whether it would +hold in place remained to be seen. Neil judged that if he could lower +himself fifteen feet by its aid he could easily drop the rest of the +distance without injury. The window above was black with watchers as he +began his journey, and many voices cheered him on. Paul, his feet +hanging over the black void, sat on the narrow ledge and waited +his turn. + +"Go fast, chum," he counseled, "but don't lose your grip. I'll wait +until you're down." + +"All right," answered Neil. Then, with a great rustling of the +thick-growing leaves, he lowered himself by arm's lengths. The vine +swayed and gave at every strain, but held. From below came the sound of +clapping. Hand under hand he went. The oblong of faint light above +receded fast. His stockinged feet gripped the vine tightly. In the group +of sophomores the clapping grew into cheers. + +[Illustration] + +"Good work, Freshie!" "You're all right!" + +Then, with the ground almost at his feet, Neil let go and dropped +lightly into a bed of shrubbery. The fellows above applauded wildly. +With a glance at the near-by group of sophomores, Neil ran. Several of +the enemy started to intercept him, but were called back. + +"Let him go! He's all right! We've had our fun!" And Neil sprang up the +steps and into the building without molestation. Meanwhile Paul was +making his descent and receiving his meed of applause from friend and +foe. And as he dropped to earth there came a sound of cheering from the +building, and the freshmen, released by the unlocking of the door, +emerged on to the steps and path. + +"Five this way!" was the cry. "Rush the sophs!" + +But wiser counsels prevailed and, each cheering loudly, the +representatives of the rival classes took themselves off. + +Neil and Paul were the last to leave the building, since they had been +obliged to return to the room for their shoes and coats. Paul had +forgotten some of his disappointment during the later proceedings, and +appeared very well satisfied with himself. + +"We showed them what Hillton chaps can do, chum," he said. "And I'll bet +they'll regret electing that fellow Livingston before I'm through with +them! Much I care about their old presidency! They're a pack of silly +little kids, any way. Let's go to bed." + + + +CHAPTER VI + +MILLS, HEAD COACH + +"TO THE IN-FANTS OF 1905: + +"GREETING! + +"The class of 1904, an-i-mat-ed by the kind-li-est of sen-ti-ments, has, +at an ex-pen-se of much time and thought, form-u-lat-ed the fol-low-ing +RULES for the guid-ance of your todd-ling foot-steps at this the out-set +of your col-lege car-eers. A strict ad-her-ence to these PRE-CEPTS will +in-sure to you the ad-mi-ra-tion of your fond par-ents, the re-spect of +your friends, and the love of the SOPH-O-MORE CLASS, which, in the +ab-sence of rel-at-ives, will, with thought-ful, tender care, stand ever +by to guard you from the world's hard knocks. + +"ATTEND, INFANTS! + +"1. R-spect for eld-ers and those in auth-or-ity is one of child-hood's +most charm-ing traits. There-for take off your hat to all SOPH-O-MORES, +and when in their pres-ence al-ways main-tain a def-er-en-tial sil-ence. + +"2. Tall hats and canes as art-i-cles of child-ren's attire are +ex-treme-ly un-be-com-ing, and are there-for strict-ly pro-hib-it-ed. + +"3. Smok-ing, either of pipes, cig-ars, or cig-ar-ettes, stunts the +growth and re-tards the dev-el-op-ment of in-tel-lect. Child-ren, +be-ware! + +"4. A suf-fic-ien-cy of sleep and plain, whole-some fare are strong-ly +re-com-mend-ed. + + "Early to bed and early to rise + Makes little Freshie healthy and wise. + +"Avoid late hours and rich food, es-pec-ial-ly fudge. + +"5. That you may not be tempt-ed to trans-gress the pre-ceed-ing rule, +it has been thought best to pro-hib-it the Freshman Din-ner, which in +pre-vi-ous years has ruin-ed so many young lives. The hab-it of hold-ing +these din-ners is a per-nic-ious one and must be stamp-ed out. To this +end the CLASS OF 1904 will ex-ert its strong-est ef-forts, and you are +here-by warn-ed that any at-tempt to re-vive this lam-ent-able cust-om +will bring down up-on you severe chast-ise-ment. + + "We must be cruel only to be kind; + Pause and reflect, who would be dined. + +"Heed and prof-it by these PRE-CEPTS, dear child-ren, that you may grow +up to be great and noble men like those who sub-scribe them-selves, + +"Pa-ter-nal-ly yours, + +"THE CLASS OF 1904. + +"You are ad-ver-tis-ed by your lov-ing friends." + +This startling information, printed in sophomore red on big white +placards, flamed from every available space in and about the campus the +next morning. The nocturnal bill-posters had shown themselves no +respecters of places, for the placards adorned not fences and walls +alone, but were pasted on the granite steps of each recitation hall. All +the forenoon groups of staid seniors, grinning juniors and sophomores, +or vexed freshmen stood in front of the placards and read the +inscriptions with varied emotions. But in the afternoon a cheering mob +of the "infants" marched through the college and town and tore down or +effaced every poster they could find. But they didn't get as far from +the campus as the athletic field, and so it was not until Neil and Paul +and one or two other freshmen reported for practise at four o'clock that +it was discovered that the high board fence surrounding the field was a +mass of the objectionable signs from end to end. + +"Oh, let them stay," said Neil. "I think they're rather funny myself. +And as for their stopping the freshman dinner, why we'll wait and see. +If they try it we'll have our chance to get back at them." + +"R-r-revenge!" muttered South, who, with a lacrosse stick over his +shoulder and an attire consisting wholly of a pair of flapping white +trunks, a faded green shirt, and a pair of canvas shoes, had come out to +join the lacrosse candidates. + +"King suggested our getting some small posters printed in blue with just +the figures ''05' on them, and pasting one on every soph's window," said +Paul, "but Livingston wouldn't hear of it. I think it would be a good +game, eh?" + +"Faculty'd kick up no end of a rumpus," said South. + +"I haven't heard that they are doing much about these things," answered +Paul. "If the sophs can stick things around why can't we?" + +"You'd better ask the Dean," suggested Neil. "Hello, who's that chap?" + +They had entered the grounds and were standing on the steps of the +locker-house. The person to whom Neil referred was just coming through +the gate. He was a medium-sized man of about thirty years, with a +good-looking, albeit very freckled face, and a good deal of sandy hair. +The afternoon was quite warm, and he carried his straw hat in one very +brown hand, while over his arm lay a sweater of Erskine purple, a pair +of canvas trousers, and two worn shoes. + +"Blessed if I know who he is!" murmured South. They watched the newcomer +as he traversed the path and reached the steps. As he passed them and +entered the building he looked them over keenly with a pair of very +sharp and very light blue eyes. + +"Wow!" muttered Paul. "He looked as though he was trying to decide +whether I would taste better fried or baked." + +"I wonder--" began Neil. But at that moment Tom Cowan came up and Paul +put the question to him. + +"The fellow that just came in?" repeated Cowan. "That, my boy, is a +gentleman who will have you standing on your head in just about twenty +minutes. Some eight or ten years ago he was popularly known hereabouts +as 'Whitey' Mills. To-day, if you know your business, you'll address him +as _Mister_ Mills." + +"Oh," said Neil, "he's the head coach, is he?" + +"He is, my young friend. And as he used to be one of the finest +half-backs in the country, I guess you'll see something of him before +you make the team. I dare say he can teach even you something about +playing your position." Cowan grinned and passed on. + +"Oh, go to thunder!" muttered Neil, following him into the building. + +He found Mills being introduced by Devoe to such of the new candidates +as were on hand. + +"You remember Cowan, I guess," Devoe was saying. "He played right-guard +last year." Mills and Cowan shook hands. "And this is Fletcher, a new +man," continued the captain, "and Gale, too; they're both Hillton +fellows and played at half. It was Fletcher that made that fine run in +the St. Eustace game. Gale was the captain last year." + +Mills shook hands with each, but beyond a short nod of his head and a +brief "Glad to meet you," displayed no knowledge of their fame. + +"Grouchy chap," commented Paul when, the coach out of hearing, they were +changing their clothes. + +"Well, he doesn't hurt himself talking," answered Neil. "But he looks +as though he knew his business. His eyes are like little blue-steel +gimlets." + +"Doesn't look much for strength, though," said Paul. + +But when, a few minutes later, Mills appeared on the gridiron in +football togs, Paul was forced to alter his opinion. Chest, arms, and +legs were a mass of muscle, and the head coach looked as though he could +render a good account of himself against the stiffest line that could be +put together. + +The practise began with ten minutes of falling on the ball. The +candidates were lined out in two strings across the field, the old men +in one, the new material in another. Neil and Paul were among the +latter, and Mills held their ball. Standing at the right end of the +line, he rolled the pigskin in front of and slightly away from the line, +and one after another the men leaped forward and flung themselves upon +it, missing it at first as often as not, and rolling about on the turf +as though suddenly seized with fits. Neil rather prided himself on his +ability to fall on the ball, and went at it like an old stager, or so he +thought. But if he expected commendation he found none. When the last +man had rolled around after the elusive pigskin, Mills went to the other +end of the line and did it all over again. + +When it came Neil's turn he plunged out, found the ball nicely, and +snuggled it against his breast. To his surprise when he arose Mills left +his place and walked out to him. + +"Let's try that again," he said. Neil tossed him the ball and went back +to his place. Mills nodded to him and rolled the pigskin toward him. +Neil dropped on his hip, securing the ball under his right arm. Like a +flash Mills was over him, and with a quick blow of his hand had sent the +leather bobbing across the turf yards away. + +"When you get it, hold on to it," he said dryly. Neil arose with +reddening cheeks and, amid the smiles of the others, went back to his +place trying to decide whether, if he could have his way, the coach +should perish by boiling oil or by merely being drawn and quartered. But +after that it was a noticeable fact that the men clung to the ball when +they got it as though it were a dearly loved friend. + +Later, passing down the line in front from end to end, the head coach +threw the ball swiftly at the feet of one after another of the +candidates, and each was obliged to drop where he stood and have the +ball in his arms when he landed. When Mills came to Neil the latter was +still nursing his resentment, and his cheeks still proclaimed that +fact. After the boy had dropped on the ball and had tossed it back to +the coach their eyes met. In the coach's was just the merest twinkle, a +very ghost of a smile; but Neil saw it, and it said to him as plainly as +words could have said, "I know just how you feel, my boy, but you'll get +over it after a while." + +The coach passed on and the flush faded from Neil's cheeks; he even +smiled a little. It was all right; Mills understood. It was almost as +though they shared a secret between them. Alfred Mills, head football +coach at Erskine College, had no more devoted admirer and partizan from +that moment than Neil Fletcher, '05. + +Next the men were spread out until there was a little space between +each, and the coach passed behind the line and shot the ball through, +and they had an opportunity to see what they could do with a pigskin +that sped away ahead of them. By careful management it is possible in +falling on a football to bring almost every portion of the anatomy in +violent contact with the ground, and this fact was forcibly brought home +to Neil, Paul, and all the others by the time the work was at an end. + +"I've got bones I never knew the existence of before," mourned Neil. + +"Me too," growled Paul. "And half a dozen of my front teeth are aching +from trying to bite holes in the ground; I think they're all loose. If +they come out I'll send the dentist's bill to the management." + +A few minutes later Neil found himself at left half in one of the six +squads of eleven men each that practised advancing the ball. They lined +up in ordinary formation, and the ball was passed to one back after +another for end runs. Mills went from squad to squad, criticizing +briefly and succinctly. + +"Don't wait for the quarter to pass," he told Paul, who was playing +beside Neil. "On your toes and run hard. Have confidence in your +quarter. If the ball isn't ready for you it's not your fault. Try +that again." + +And when Paul and Neil and the full-back had plowed round the left end +once more-- + +"Quarter, don't hold that ball as though your hand was frozen; keep your +hand limber and see that you get the belly of the ball in it, not one +end; then it won't tilt itself out. When you get the ball from center +rise quickly, put your back against guard, and throw your weight there. +And it's just as necessary for you to have confidence in the runner as +it is for him to have faith in you. Don't fear that you'll be too quick +for him; don't doubt but that he'll be there at the right instant. Keep +that in mind and you'll soon have things going like clock-work. Now once +more; ball to left half for a run around right end." + +When practise was over that day the new candidates were unanimous in the +opinion that they had learned more that afternoon under Mills than they +had learned during the whole previous week. Neil, Paul, and Cowan +walked back to college together. + +"Yes, he's a great little coach," said Cowan, "and a nice chap when you +get to know him; no frills on him, you know. And he's plumb full of +pluck. They say that once when he played here at half-back he got the +ball on Robinson's forty yards and walked down the field and over the +line for a touch-down with half the Robinson team hanging on to his +legs, and said afterward that he thought he _had_ felt some one tugging +at him!" Neil laughed. + +"But he doesn't look so awfully strong," he objected. + +"Well, I guess he was in better trim then," answered Cowan. "Besides, +he's built well, you see--most of his weight below his waist; when a +chap's that way it's hard to pull him over. I remember last year in the +game with Erstham I got through their tackle on a guard-back +play, and--" + +But Neil had already heard that story of heroic deeds, and so lent a +deaf ear to Cowan's boasting. When they reached Main Street a window +full of the first issue of the college weekly, The Erskine Purple, met +their sight, and they went in and bought copies. On the steps of the +laboratory building they opened the inky-smelling journals and glanced +through them. + +"Here's an account of last night's election," said Cowan. "That's quick +work, isn't it? And you can read all about Livingston's brilliant +career, Gale. By the way, have you met him yet?" + +Paul shook his head. "No, and I'm bearing up under it as well as can be +expected." + +"You're not missing much," said Cowan. "Hello, here's the football +schedule! Want to hear it?" Paul said he did, Neil muttered something +unintelligible, and Cowan read as follows: + + "E.C.F.B.A. + + "SCHEDULE OF GAMES + + "Oct. 12. Woodby at Centerport. + " 16. Dexter at Centerport. + " 23. Harvard at Cambridge. + " 26. Erstham at Centerport. + Nov. 2. State University at Centerport. + " 6. Arrowden at Centerport. + " 9. Yale at New Haven. + " 16. Artmouth at Centerport. + " 23. Robinson at Centerport." + +"By Jove!" said Cowan. "We've got seven home games this year! That's +fine, isn't it? But I'll bet we'll find Woodby a tough proposition on +the 12th. Last year we played her about the 1st of November, and she +didn't do a thing to us. And look at the game they've got scheduled for +a week before the Robinson game! That'll wear us out; Artmouth will put +just about half of our men on the sick-list. And--Hello!" he said, +dropping his voice; "talk of an angel!" + +A youth of apparently nineteen years was approaching them. He was of +moderate height, rather slimly built, with dark eyes and hair, and +clean-cut features. He swung a note-book in one hand, and was evidently +in deep thought, for he failed to see the group on the steps, and would +have passed without speaking had not Cowan called to him. Housed from +his reverie, Fanwell Livingston glanced up, and, after nodding to Cowan +and Neil, turned in at the gate. + +"I suppose you want congratulations," said Cowan. "Well, you can have +mine." + +"And mine," added Neil. "And Gale here will extend his as soon as he's +properly introduced. Mr. Gale--Mr. Livingston." + +"Victory--Defeat," added Cowan with a grin. The two candidates for the +freshman presidency shook hands, Paul without enthusiasm, +Livingston heartily. + +"Congratulations, of course," murmured the former. + +"Thank you," answered the president. "You're very generous. After all, I +dare say you've got the best of it, for you'll have the satisfaction of +knowing that if the fellows had chosen you you would have done much +better than I shall. However, I hope we'll be friends, Mr. Gale." +Livingston's smile was undeniably winning, and Paul was forced to +return it. + +"You're very good," he answered quite affably. "I hope we will." +Livingston nodded, smiled again, and turned to Cowan. + +"Well, they tell me you fellows are in for desperate deeds this year," +he said. + +"How's that?" asked Cowan. + +"Aren't you in on the sophomore councils? Why, I'm told that if the +freshmen don't give up the dinner plan I'm to be kidnaped." + +"How'd you hear--" began Cowan. Then he paused with some confusion. "Who +told you that rot?" he asked with a laugh. + +"Oh, it came in a roundabout way," answered Livingston. "I dare say it's +just talk." + +"Some freshman nonsense," said Cowan. "I guess we'll do our best to keep +you fellows from eating too much, but--" He shrugged his big shoulders. +Livingston, observing him shrewdly, began for the first time since +intelligence of the supposed project had reached him to give credence to +it. But he laughed carelessly as he turned away. + +"Oh, well, we have to keep you fellows amused, of course, and if you +like to try kidnaping you may." + +"I wish the sophs would try it," said Neil warmly. Cowan turned to him. + +"Well, if they did--_if_ they did--I guess they'd succeed," he drawled. + +"Well, if they do--_if_ they do," answered Neil, "I'll bet they won't +succeed." + +"You'd stop us, perhaps?" sneered Cowan. + +"Easily," answered Neil, smiling sweetly; "there are only a hundred or +so of you." + +"There's no one like a week-old freshman for self-importance," Cowan +said, laughing in order to hide his vexation. + +"Unless it's a third-year sophomore," Neil retorted. + +"Oh, well," Paul interposed, "it's all poppycock, anyhow." + +"That's all," said Livingston. + +"Of course," agreed Cowan. + +Neil was silent. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE GENTLE ART OF HANDLING PUNTS + +Life now was filled with hard work for both Neil and Paul. Much of the +novelty that had at first invested study with an exhilarating interest +had worn off, and they had settled down to the daily routine of lectures +and recitations just as though they had been Erskine undergrads for +years instead of a week. The study and the adjoining bed-room were at +last furnished to suit; The First Snow was hung, the "rug for the +wash-stand" was in place, and the objectionable towel-rack had given way +to a smaller but less erratic affair. + +Every afternoon saw the two boys on Erskine Field. Mills was a hard +taskmaster, but one that inspired the utmost confidence, and as a result +of some ten days' teaching the half hundred candidates who had survived +the first weeding-out process were well along in the art of football. +The new men were coached daily in the rudiments; were taught to punt and +catch, to fall on the ball, to pass without fumbling, to start quickly, +and to run hard. Exercise in the gymnasium still went on, but the +original twenty-minute period had gradually diminished to ten. Neil and +Paul, with certain other candidates for the back-field, were daily +instructed in catching punts and forming interference. Every afternoon +the practise was watched by a throng of students who were quick to +applaud good work, and whose presence was a constant incentive to the +players. There was a strong sentiment throughout the college in favor of +leaving nothing undone that might secure a victory over Robinson. The +defeat of the previous year rankled, and Erskine was grimly determined +to square accounts with her lifelong rival. As one important means to +this end the college was searched through and through for heavy +material, for Robinson always turned out teams that, whatever might be +their playing power, were beef and brawn from left end to right. And so +at Erskine men who didn't know a football from a goal-post were hauled +from studious retirement simply because they had weight and promised +strength, and were duly tried and, usually, found wanting. One lucky +find, however, rewarded the search, a two-hundred-pound sophomore named +Browning, who, handicapped at the start with a colossal ignorance +regarding all things pertaining to the gridiron, learned with wonderful +rapidity, and gave every promise of turning himself into a phenomenal +guard or tackle. + +On the 5th of October a varsity and a second squad were formed, and Neil +and Paul found themselves at left and right half respectively on the +latter. Cowan was back at right-guard on the varsity, a position which +he had played satisfactorily the year before. Neil had already made the +discovery that he had, despite his Hillton experience, not a little to +learn, and he set about learning it eagerly. Paul made the same +discovery, but, unfortunately for himself, the discovery wounded his +pride, and he accepted the criticisms of coach and captain with rather +ill grace. + +"That dub Devoe makes me very weary," he confided to Neil one afternoon. +"He thinks he knows it all and no one else has any sense." + +"He doesn't strike me that way," answered his chum. "And I think he does +know a good deal of football." + +"You always stick up for him," growled Paul. "And for Mills, +too--white-haired, freckle-faced chump!" + +"Don't be an idiot," said Neil. "One's captain and t'other is coach, and +they're going to rub it into us whenever they please, and the best thing +for us to do is to take it and look cheerful." + +"That's it; we _have_ to take it," Paul objected. "They can put us on +the bench if they want to and keep us there all the season; I know that. +But, just the same, I don't intend to lick Devoe's boots or rub my head +in the dirt whenever Mills looks at me." + +"Well, it looks to me as though you'd been rubbing your head in the dirt +already," laughed Neil. + +"Connor stepped on me there," muttered Paul, wiping a clump of mud from +his forehead. "Come on; Mills is yelling for us. More catching punts, +I suppose." + +And his supposition was correct. Across the width of the sunlit field +Graham, the two-hundred-and-thirty-pound center rush, stooped over the +pigskin. Beside him were two pairs of end rushes, and behind him, with +outstretched hands, stood Ted Foster. Foster gave a signal, the ball +went back to him on a long pass, and he sent it over the gridiron toward +where Neil, Paul, and two other backs were waiting. The ends came down +under the kick, the ball thumped into Paul's hands, Neil and another +formed speedy interference, and the three were well off before the ends, +like miniature cyclones, were upon them and had dragged Paul to earth. + +The head coach, a short but sturdy figure in worn-out trousers and faded +purple shirt, stood on the edge of the cinder track and viewed the work +with critical eye. When the ends had trotted back over the field with +the ball to repeat the proceeding, he made himself heard: + +"Spread out more, fellows, and don't all stand in a line across the +field. You've got to learn now to judge kicks; you can't expect to +always find yourself just under them. Fletcher, as soon as you've +decided who is to take the ball yell out. Then play to the runner; every +other man form into interference and get him up the field. Now then! +Play quick!" + +The ball was in flight again, and once more the ends were speeding +across under it. "Mine!" cried Neil. Then the leather was against his +breast and he was dodging forward, Paul ahead of him to bowl over +opposing players, and Pearse, a full-back candidate, plunging along +beside. One--two--three of the ends were passed, and the ball had been +run back ten yards. Then Stone, last year's varsity left end, fooled +Paul, and getting inside him, nailed Neil by the hips. + +"Well tackled, Stone," called Mills. "Gale, you were asleep, man; Stone +ought never to have got through there. Fletcher, you're going to lose +the ball some time when you need it badly if you don't catch better than +that. Never reach up for it; remember that your opponent can't tackle +you until you've touched it; wait until it hits against your stomach, +and then grip it hard. If you take it in the air it's an easy stunt for +an opponent to knock it out of your hands; but if you've got it hugged +against your body it won't matter how hard you're thrown, the ball's +yours for keeps. Bear that in mind." + +On the next kick Neil called to Gale to take the pigskin. Paul misjudged +it, and was forced to turn and run back. He missed the catch, a +difficult one under the circumstances, and also missed the rebound. By +this time the opposing ends were down on him. The ball trickled across +the running track, and Paul stooped to pick it up. But Stone was ahead +of him, and seizing the pigskin, was off for what would have been a +touch-down had it been in a game. + +"What's the matter, Gale?" cried Mills angrily. "Why didn't you fall on +that ball?" + +"It was on the cinders," answered Paul, in evident surprise. Mills made +a motion of disgust, of tragic impatience. + +"I don't care," he cried, "if it was on broken glass! You've got orders +to fall on the ball. Now bring it over here, put it down +and--_fall_--_on_--_it_!" + +Neil watched his chum apprehensively. Knowing well Paul's impatience +under discipline, he feared that the latter would give way to anger and +mutiny on the spot. But Paul did as directed, though with bad grace, and +contented himself with muttered words as he threw the pigskin to a +waiting end and went back to his place. + +Soon afterward they were called away for a ten-minute line-up. Paul, +still smarting under what in his own mind he termed a cruel indignity, +played poorly, and ere the ten minutes was half up was relegated to the +benches, his place at right half being taken by Kirk. The second managed +to hold the varsity down to one score that day, and might have taken the +ball over itself had not Pearse fumbled on the varsity's three yards. As +it was, they were given a hearty cheer by the watchers when time was +called, and they trotted to the bucket to be sponged off. Then those who +had not already been in the line-up were given the gridiron, and the +varsity and second were sent for a trot four times around the field, the +watchful eye of "Baldy" Simson, Erskine's veteran trainer, keeping them +under surveillance until they had completed their task and had trailed +out the gate toward the locker-house, baths, and rub-downs. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE KIDNAPING + +Fanwell Livingston was curled in the window-seat in his front room, his +book close to the bleared pane, striving to find light enough by which +to study. Outside it was raining in a weary, desultory way, and the +heavens were leaden-hued. Livingston's quarters were on the front of +that big lemon-yellow house at the corner of Oak and King Streets, about +equidistant from campus and field. The outlook to-day was far from +inspiriting. When he raised his eyes from the pages before him he saw an +empty road running with water; beyond that a bare, weed-grown, sodden +field that stretched westward to the unattractive backs of the one-and +two-storied shops on Main Street. Livingston's room wasn't in any sense +central, but he liked it because it was quiet, because aside from the +family he had the house to himself, and because Mrs. Saunders, his +landlady, was goodness itself and administered to his comfort almost as +his own mother would have done. + +The freshman president laid aside his book, grimaced at the dreary +prospect, and took out his watch. "Ten minutes after five," he murmured. +"Heavens, what a beastly dark day! I'll have to start to get dressed +before long. Too bad we've got such weather for the affair." He glanced +irresolutely toward the gas-fixture, and from thence to where his +evening clothes lay spread out on the couch. For it was the evening of +the Freshman Class Dinner. While he was striving to find energy +wherewith to tear himself from the soft cushions and make a light, +footsteps sounded outside his door, and some one demanded admission. + +"Come in!" he called. + +The door swung open, was closed swiftly and softly again, and Neil +Fletcher crossed the room. He looked rather like a tramp; his hat was a +misshapen thing of felt from which the water dripped steadily as he +tossed it aside; his sweater--he wore no coat--was soaking wet; and his +trousers and much-darned golf stockings were in scarcely better +condition. His hair looked as though he had just taken his head from a +water-bucket, and his face bespoke excitement. + +"They're coming after you, Livingston," he cried in an intense whisper. +"I heard Cowan telling Carey in the locker-room a minute ago; they +didn't know I was there; it was dark as dark. They've got a carriage, +and there are going to be nearly a dozen of them. I ran all the way as +soon as I got on to Oak Street. There wasn't time to get any of the +fellows together, so I just sneaked right over here. You can get out now +and go--somewhere--to our room or the library. They won't look for you +there, eh? There's a fellow at the corner watching, but I don't think he +saw me, and I can settle with him; or maybe you could get out the back +way and double round by the railroad? You can't stay here, because +they're coming right away; Cowan said--" + +"For heaven's sake, Fletcher, what do you mean?" asked Livingston. "You +don't want me to believe that they're really going to run off with me?" + +Neil, gasping for breath, subsided on to the window-seat and nodded his +head vigorously. "That's just what I do mean. There's no doubt about it, +my friend. Didn't I tell you I heard Cowan--" + +"Oh, Cowan!" + +"I know, but it was all in earnest. Carey and he are on their way to +Pike's stable for the carriage, and the others are to meet there. +They've had fellows watching you all day. There's one at the corner +now--a tall, long-nosed chap that I've seen in class. So get your things +and get out as soon as you can move." + +Livingston, with his hands in his pockets, stared thoughtfully out of +the window, Neil watching him impatiently and listening apprehensively +for the sound of carriage wheels down the street. + +"It doesn't seem to me that they could be idiots enough to attempt such +a silly trick," said Livingston at last. "You--you're quite sure you +weren't mistaken--that they weren't stringing you?" + +"They didn't know I was there!" cried Neil in exasperation. "I went in +late--Mills had us blocking kicks--and was changing my things over in a +dark corner when they hurried in and went over into the next alley and +began to talk. At first they were whispering, but after a bit they +talked loud enough for me to hear every word." + +"Well, anyhow--and I'm awfully much obliged, Fletcher--I don't intend to +run from a few sophs. I'll lock the front door and this one and let +them hammer." + +"But--" + +"Nonsense; when they find they can't get in they'll get tired and go +away." + +"And you'll go out and get nabbed at the corner! That's a clever +program, I don't think!" cried Neil in intense scorn. "Now you listen to +me, Livingston. What you want to do is to put your glad rags in a bag +and--What's that?" + +He leaped to his feet and peered out of the window. Just within his +range of vision a carriage, drawn by two dripping, sorry-looking nags, +drew up under the slight shelter of an elm-tree about fifty yards away +from the house. From it emerged eight fellows in rain-coats, while the +tall, long-nosed watcher whom Neil had seen at the corner joined them +and made his report. The group looked toward Livingston's window and +Neil dodged back. + +"It's too late now," he whispered. "There they are." + +"Look a bit damp, don't they," laughed Livingston softly as he peered +out over the other's shoulder. "I'll go down and lock the door." + +"No, stay here," said Neil. "I'll look after that; they might get you. I +wish it wasn't so dark! How about the back way? Can't you get out there +and sneak around by the field?" + +"I told you I wasn't going to run away from them," replied his host, +"and I haven't changed my mind." + +"You're an obstinate ass!" answered Neil. He scowled at the calm and +smiling countenance of the freshman president a moment, and then turned +quickly and pulled the shades at the windows. "I've got it!" he cried. +"Look here, will you do as I tell you? If you do I promise you we'll +fool them finely." + +"I'm not going out of this room," objected Livingston. + +"Yes, you are--into the next one. And you're going to lock the door +behind you; and I'm going to look after our sophomore callers. Now go +ahead. Do as I tell you, or I'll go off and leave you to be eaten +alive!" Neil, grinning delightedly, thrust the unwilling Livingston +before him. "Now lock the door and keep quiet. No matter what you hear, +keep quiet and stay in there." + +"But--" + +"You be hanged!" Neil pulled to the bed-room door, and listened until he +heard the key turn on the other side. Then he stole to the window and, +lifting a corner of the shade, peeped out. The group of sophomores were +no longer in sight, but at that moment he heard the front door close +softly. There was no time to lose. He found a match and hurriedly +lighted one burner over the study table. Then, turning it down to a mere +blue point of light, he flung himself back among the cushions on the +window-seat, and with a heart that hammered violently at his +ribs waited. + +Almost in the next moment there were sounds of shuffling feet outside +the study door, a low voice, and then a knock. Neil took a long breath. + +"Come in," he called drowsily. + +The door opened. Neil arose and walked to the gas-fixture, knocking over +a chair on his way. + +"Come in, whoever you are," he muttered. "Guess I was almost asleep." He +reached up a hand and turned out the gas. The room, almost dark before, +was now blackness from wall to wall. "Pshaw," said Neil, "I've turned +the pesky thing out! Just stand still until I find a match or you'll +break your shins." He groped his way toward the mantel. Now was the +sophomores' opportunity, and they seized it. Neil had done his best to +imitate Livingston's careful and rather precise manner of speaking, and +the invaders, few of whom even knew the president of the freshman +class by sight, never for an instant doubted that they had captured him. + +[Illustration] + +Neil found himself suddenly seized by strong arms. With a cry of +simulated surprise, he struggled feebly. + +"Here, what's up, fellows?" he remonstrated. "Look out, I tell you! +_Don't do that_!" + +Then he was borne, protesting and kicking, feet foremost, through the +door, out into the hall and down the stairs. When the front door was +thrown open Neil was alarmed to find that although almost dark it was +still light enough for his captors to discover their mistake. Hiding his +face as best he could, he lifted his voice in loud cries for help. It +worked like a charm. Instantly a carriage robe was thrown over his head +and he was hurried down the steps, across the muddy sidewalk, and into +the waiting vehicle which had been driven up before the house. Once +inside, Neil was safe from detection, for the hack, the shades drawn up +before the windows, was as dark as Egypt. Neil sighed his relief, +muttered a few perfunctory threats from behind the uncomfortable folds +of the ill-smelling robe, and, with one fellow sitting on his chest and +three others holding his legs, felt the carriage start. + +Despite the enveloping folds about his head he could hear quite well; +hear the horses' feet go _squish-squash_ in the mud; hear the carriage +creak on its aged hinges; hear the shriek of a distant locomotive as +they approached the railroad. His captors were congratulating +themselves on the success of their venture. + +"Easier than I thought it'd be," said one, and at the reply Neil +figuratively pricked up his ears. + +"Pshaw, I knew we'd have no trouble; Livingston was so cock-sure that we +wouldn't try it that he'd probably forgotten all about it. I guess that +conceited little fool Fletcher will talk out of the other side of his +mouth for a while now. What do you think? He had the nerve to tell me +last week that he guessed _he_ could prevent a kidnaping, as there were +only about a hundred of us sophs!" + +The others laughed. + +"Well, he is a chesty young kid, isn't he?" asked a third speaker. "I +guess it's just as well we didn't have to kidnap _him_, eh? By the way, +our friend here seems ill at ease. Maybe we'd better get off of him now +and give him a breath of air. We don't want a corpse on our hands." + +The sophomores found seats and the robe was unwound from about Neil's +head, much to that youth's delight. He took a good long breath and, +grinning enjoyably in the darkness, settled himself to make the best of +his predicament. Now that he had discovered Tom Cowan to be one of his +abductors, he was filled with such glee that he found it hard work to +keep silent. But he did, and all the gibes of his captors, uttered in +quite the most polite language imaginable, failed to elicit a reply. + +"Beautiful evening for a drive, is it not?" asked one. + +"I trust you had not planned to attend the freshman dinner to-night?" +asked another. "For I fear we shall be late in reaching home." + +"You are quite comfortable? Is there any particular road you would like +to drive? any part of our lovely suburbs you care to visit?" + +"Surly brute!" growled a fourth, who was Cowan. "Let's make him speak, +eh? Let's twist his arm a bit." + +"You sit still or I'll punch your thick head," said the first speaker +coldly. "What I dislike about you, Cowan, is that you are never able to +forget that you're a mucker. I wish you'd try," he continued wearily, +"it's so monotonous." + +Cowan was silent an instant; then laughed uncertainly. + +"I suppose you fancy you're a wit, Baker," he said, "but I think you're +mighty tiresome." + +"Don't let it trouble you," was the calm reply. Some one laughed +drowsily. Then there was silence save for the sound of the horses' feet, +the complaining of the well-worn hack and the occasional voice of the +driver outside on the box. Neil began to feel rather drowsy himself; the +motion was lulling, and now that they had crossed the railroad-track and +reached the turnpike along the river, the carriage traveled smoothly. It +was black night outside now, and through the nearest window at which the +curtain had been lowered Neil could see nothing save an occasional +light in some house. He didn't know where he was being taken, and didn't +much care. They rolled steadily on for half an hour longer, during which +time two at least of his captors proclaimed their contentment by loud +snoring. Then the carriage slowed down, the sleeping ones were awakened, +and a moment later a flood of light entering the window told Neil that +the journey was at an end. + +"Far as we go," said some one. "All out here and take the car ahead!" A +door was opened, two of his captors got out, and Neil was politely +invited to follow. He did so. Before him was the open door of a +farm-house from which the light streamed hospitably. It was still +drizzling, and Neil took shelter on the porch unchallenged; now that the +abductors had got him some five miles from Centerport, they were not so +attentive. The others came up the steps and the carriage was led away +toward the barn. + +"If your Excellency will have the kindness to enter the house," said +Baker, with low obeisance, "he will find accommodations which, while far +from befitting your Excellency's dignity, are, unfortunately, the best +at our command." + +Neil accepted the invitation silently, and entering the doorway, found +himself in a well-lighted room wherein a table was set for supper. The +others followed, Cowan grinning from ear to ear in anticipation of the +victim's discomfiture. In his eagerness he was the first to catch sight +of Neil's face. With a howl of surprise he sprang back, almost +upsetting Baker. + +"What's the matter with you?" cried the latter. Cowan made no answer, +but stared stupidly at Neil. + +"Eh? What?" Baker sprang forward and wheeled their victim into the +light. Neil turned and faced them smilingly. The four stared in +bewilderment. It was Baker who first found words. + +"_Well, I'll--be--hanged_!" he murmured. + +Neil turned placidly to the discomfited Cowan. + +"You see, Cowan," he said sweetly, "one against a hundred isn't such big +odds, after all, is it?" + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE BROKEN TRICYCLE + +As soon as Livingston heard the kidnapers staggering down-stairs with +their burden he unlocked the bed-room door and stole to the window. He +saw Neil, his head hidden by the carriage robe, thrust into the hack and +driven away, and saw the conspirators for whom the vehicle afforded no +room separate and disappear in the gathering darkness. Livingston's +emotions were varied: admiration for Neil's harebrained but successful +ruse, distaste for the sorry part taken by himself in the affair, and +amusement over the coming amazement and discomfiture of the enemy were +mingled. In the end delight in the frustration of the sophomores' plan +gained the ascendency, and he resolved that although Neil would miss the +freshman dinner he should have it made up to him. + +And so in his speech an hour or so later Fanwell Livingston told the +astonished company of the attempted kidnaping and of its failure, and +never before had Odd Fellows' Hall rang with such laughter and cheering. +And a little knot of sophomores, already bewildered by the appearance +of the freshman president on the scene, were more than ever at a loss. +They stood under an awning across the street, some twenty or thirty of +them, and asked each other what it meant. Content with the supposed +success of the abduction, they had made no attempt to prevent the +dinner. And now Livingston, who by every law of nature should be five +miles out in the country, was presiding at the feast and moving his +audience to the wildest applause. + +"But I helped put him in the hack!" Carey cried over and over. + +"And I saw it drive off with him!" marveled another. + +"And if that's Livingston, where's Baker, and Morton, and Cowan, and +Dyer?" asked the rest. And all shook their heads and gazed bewildered +through the rain to where a raised window-shade gave them occasional +glimpses of "Fan" Livingston, a fine figure in dinner jacket and white +shirt bosom, leading the cheering. + +"_Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Fletcher_!" + +The group under the awning turned puzzled looks upon each other. + +"Who's Fletcher? What are they cheering Fletcher for?" was asked. But +none could answer. + +But over in the hall it was different. Not a lad there, perhaps, but +would have been glad to have exchanged places with the gallant +confounder of sophomore plots, who was pictured in most minds as +starving to death somewhere out in the rain, a captive in the ungentle +hands of the enemy. + +However, starving Neil certainly was not. For at that very moment, +seated at the hospitable board of Farmer Hutchins, he was helping +himself to his fifth hot biscuit, and allowing Miss Hutchins, a +red-cheeked and admiring young lady of fourteen years, to fill his +teacup for the second time. From the role of prisoner Neil had advanced +himself to the position of honored guest. For after the first +consternation, bewilderment, and mortification had passed, his captors +philosophically accepted the situation, and under the benign influence +of cold chicken and hot soda biscuits found themselves not only able to +display equanimity, but to join in the laugh against themselves and to +admire the cleverness displayed in their out-witting. Of the four +sophomores Cowan's laughter and praise alone rang false. But Neil was +supremely indifferent to that youth's sentiments. The others he soon +discovered to be thoroughly good fellows, and there is no doubt but that +he enjoyed the hospitality of Farmer Hutchins more than he would have +enjoyed the freshman class dinner. + +At nine o'clock the drive back to Centerport began, and as the horses +soon found that they were headed toward home the journey occupied +surprisingly little time, and at ten Neil was back in his room awaiting +the return of Paul. To Neil's surprise that gentleman was at first +decidedly grumpy. + +"You might have let me into it," he grumbled. + +But Neil explained and apologized until at length peace was restored. +Then he had to tell Paul all about it from first to last, and Paul +laughed until he choked; "I--I just wish--wish I had--seen Cowan's--face +when--he--found it--out!" he shrieked. + +One result of that night's adventure was that the Class of 1905 was +never thereafter bothered in the slightest degree by the sophomores; it +appeared to be the generally accepted verdict that the freshmen had +established their right to immunity from all molestation. Another result +was that Neil became a class hero and a college notable. Younger +freshmen pointed him out to each other in admiring awe; older and more +influential ones went out of their way to claim recognition from him; +sophomores viewed him with more than passing interest, and upper-class +men predicted for him a brilliant college career. Even the Dean, when he +passed Neil the following afternoon and returned his bow, allowing +himself something almost approaching a grin. Neil, however, bore his +honors modestly even while acknowledging to himself the benefit of them. +He learned that his chances of making a certain society, membership in +which was one of his highest ambitions, had been more than doubled, and +was glad accordingly. (He was duly elected and underwent rigorous +initiation proudly and joyfully.) + +The kidnaping affair even affected his football standing, for Mills and +Devoe and Simson, the trainer, spoke or looked applause, while the head +coach thereafter displayed quite a personal interest in him. Several +days subsequent to the affair Neil was taking dummy practise with the +rest of the second eleven. Mills had appropriated the invention of a +Harvard trainer, rigging the dummy with hook and eye-bolt, so that when +properly tackled the stuffed canvas effigy of a Robinson player became +detached from its cable and fell on to the soft loam much after the +manner of a human being. But to bring the dummy from the hook +necessitated the fiercest of tackling, and many fellows failed at this. +To-day Neil was one of this number. Twice the dummy, bearing upon its +breast the brown R of Robinson, had sped away on its twenty-foot flight, +and twice Neil had thrown himself upon it without bringing it down. As +he arose after the second attempt and brushed the soil from his trousers +Mills "went for him." + +"You're very ladylike, Fletcher, but as this isn't crewel-work or +crochet you'll oblige me by being so rude as to bring that dummy off. +Now, once more; put some snap into it! Get your hold, find your +purchase, and then throw! Just imagine it's a sophomore, please." + +The roar of laughter that followed restored some of Neil's confidence, +and, whether he deceived himself into momentarily thinking the dummy a +sophomore, he tackled finely, brought the canvas figure from the hook, +and triumphantly sat on the letter R. + +Signal practise followed work at the dummy that afternoon, and last of +all the varsity and second teams had their daily line-up. Neil, however, +did not get into this. Greatly to his surprise and disappointment +McCullough took his place at left half, and Neil sat on the bench and +aggrievedly watched the lucky ones peeling off their sweaters in +preparation for the fray. But idleness was not to be his portion, for a +moment later Mills called to him: + +"Here, take this ball, go down there to the fifteen-yard line, and try +drop-kicking. Keep a strict count, and let me know how many tries you +had and how many times you put it over the goal." + +Neil took the ball and trotted off to the scene of his labors, greatly +comforted. Kicking goals from the fifteen-yard line didn't sound very +difficult, and he set to work resolved to distinguish himself. But +drop-kicks were not among Neil's accomplishments, and he soon found that +the cross-bar had a way of being in the wrong place at the critical +moment. At first it was hard to keep from turning his head to watch the +progress of the game, but presently he became absorbed in his work. As a +punter he had been somewhat of a success at Hillton, but drop-kicking +had been left to the full-back, and consequently it was unaccustomed +work. The first five tries went low, and the next four went high enough +but wide of the goal. The next one barely cleared the cross-bar, and +Neil was hugely tickled. The count was then ten tries and one goal. He +got out of the way in order to keep from being ground to pieces by the +struggling teams, and while he stood by and watched the varsity make its +first touch-down, ruminated sadly upon the report he would have to +render to Mills. + +But a long acquaintance with footballs had thoroughly dispelled Neil's +awe of them, and he returned to his labor determined to better his +score. And he did, for when the teams trotted by him on their way off +the field and Mills came up, he was able to report 38 tries, of which 12 +were goals. + +"Not bad," said the coach. "That'll do for to-day. But whenever you find +a football, and don't know what to do with it, try drop-kicking. Your +punting is very good, and there's no reason why you shouldn't learn to +kick from drop or placement as well. Take my advice and put your heart +and brain and muscle into it, for, while we've got backs that can buck +and hurdle and run, we haven't many that can be depended on to kick a +goal, and we'll need them before long." + +Neil trotted out to the locker-house with throbbing heart. Mills had as +good as promised him his place. That is, if he could learn to kick +goals. The condition didn't trouble Neil, however; he _could_ learn to +drop-kick and he _would_ learn, he told himself exultantly as he panted +under the effects of a cold shower-bath. For a moment the wild idea of +rising at unchristian hours and practising before chapel occurred to +him, but upon maturer thought was given up. No, the only thing to do was +to follow Mills's advice: "Put your heart and brain and muscle into it," +the coach had said. Neil nodded vigorously and rubbed himself so hard +with the towel as to almost take the skin off. He was late in leaving +the house that evening, and as all the fellows he knew personally had +already taken their departure, he started back toward the campus alone. +Near the corner of King Street he glanced up and saw something a short +distance ahead that puzzled him. It looked at first like a cluster of +bicycles with a single rider. But as the rider was motionless Neil soon +came up to him. + +On nearer view he saw that the object was in reality a tricycle, and +that it held beside the rider a pair of crutches which lay in supports +lengthwise along one side. The machine was made to work with the hands +instead of the feet, and a bow-shaped piece of steel which fitted around +the operator's knee served as steering apparatus. The youth who sat +motionless on the seat was a rather pale-faced, frail-looking lad of +eighteen years, and it needed no second glance to tell Neil that he was +crippled from his waist down. As Neil approached he was pulling the +handles to and fro and looking perplexedly at the gear. The tricycle +refused to budge. + +"I guess you've broken down," said Neil, approaching. "Stay where you +are and I'll have a look." + +"Thanks, but you needn't bother," said the lad. + +But Neil was already on his knees. The trouble was soon found; the chain +had broken and for the present was beyond repair. + +"But the wheels will go round, just the same," said Neil cheerfully. +"Keep your seat and I'll push you back. Where do you room?" + +"Walton," was the answer. "But I don't like to bother you, Mr. Fletcher. +You see I have my crutches here, and I can get around very well +on them." + +"Nonsense, there's no use in your walking all the way to Walton. Here, +I'll take the chain off and play horse. By the way, how'd you know +my name?" + +"Oh, every one knows you since that kidnaping business," laughed the +other, beginning to forget some of his shyness. "And besides I've heard +the coach speak to you at practise." + +"Oh," said Neil, who was now walking behind the tricycle and pushing it +before him, "then you've been out to the field, eh?" + +"Yes, I like to watch practise. I go out very nearly every day." + +[Illustration] + +"Come to think of it, I believe I've seen you there," said Neil. "It's +wonderful how you can get around on this machine as you do. Isn't it +hard work at times?" + +"Rather, on grades, you know. But on smooth roads it goes very easily; +besides, I've worked it every day almost for so long that I've got a +pretty good muscle now. My father had this one made for me only two +months ago to use here at Erskine. The last machine I had was very much +heavier and harder to manage." + +"I guess being so light has made it weak," said Neil, "or it wouldn't +have broken down like this." + +"Oh, I fancy that was more my fault than the tricycle's," answered the +boy. As Neil was behind him he did not see the smile that accompanied +the words. + +"Well, I'll take you home and then wheel the thing down to the bicycle +repair-shop near the depot, eh?" + +"Oh, no, indeed," protested the other. "I'll--I'll have them send up for +it. I wouldn't have you go way down there with it for anything." + +"Pshaw! that's no walk; besides, if you have them send, it will be some +time to-morrow afternoon before you get it back." + +"I sha'n't really need it before then," answered the lad earnestly. + +"You might," said Neil. There was such a tone of finality in the reply +that the boy on the seat yielded, but for an instant drew his face into +a pucker of perplexity. + +"Thank you," he said; "it's awfully nice of you to take so much +trouble." + +"I can't see that," Neil replied. "I don't see how I could do any less. +By the way, what's your name, if you don't mind?" + +"Sydney Burr." + +"Burr? That's why you were stuck there up the road," laughed Neil. +"We're in the same class, aren't we?" + +"Yes." + +At the middle entrance of Walton Hall Neil helped Burr on to his +crutches, and would have assisted him up the steps had he not objected. + +"Please don't," he said, flushing slightly. "I can get up all right; I +do it every day. My room's on this floor, too. I'm awfully much obliged +to you for what you've done. I wish you'd come and see me some time--No. +3. Do you--do you think you could?" + +"Of course," Neil answered heartily, "I'll be glad to. Three, you said? +All right. I'll take this nag down to the blacksmith's now and get him +reshod. If they can fix him right off I'll bring him back with me. Where +do you stable him?" + +"The janitor takes it down-stairs somewhere. If I'm not here just give +it to him, please. I wish, though, you wouldn't bother about bringing +it back." + +"I'll ride him back," laughed Neil. "Good-night." + +"Good-night. Don't forget you're coming to see me." + +Sydney Burr smiled and, turning, climbed the steps with astonishing +ease, using his crutches with a dexterity born of many years' dependence +upon them. His lower limbs, slender and frail, swung from side to side, +mere useless appendages. Neil sighed as he saw his new acquaintance out +of sight, and then started on his errand with the tricycle. + +"Poor duffer!" he muttered. "And yet he seems cheerful enough, and looks +happy. But to think of having to creep round on stilts or pull himself +about on this contrivance! I mustn't forget to call on him; I dare say +he hasn't many friends. He seems a nice chap, too; and he'd be +frightfully good-looking if he wasn't so white." + +It was almost dark when he reached the repair-shop near the railroad, +and the proprietor, a wizened little bald-headed man, was preparing +to go home. + +"Can't fix anything to-night," he protested shrilly. "It's too late; +come in the morning." + +"Well, if you think I'm going to wheel this thing back here to-morrow +you've missed your guess," said Neil. "All it needs is to have a chain +link welded or glued or something; it won't take five minutes. And the +fellow that owns it is a cripple and can't go out until this machine's +fixed. Now go ahead, like a good chap; I'll hold your bonnet." + +"Eh? What bonnet?" The little man stared perplexedly. + +"I meant I'd help," answered Neil unabashed. + +"Help! Huh! Lot's of help, you'd be to any one! Well, let's see it." He +knelt and inspected the tricycle, grumbling all the while and shaking +his head angrily. "Who said it was broke?" he demanded presently. "Queer +kind of break; looks like you'd pried the link apart with a +cold-chisel." + +"Well, I didn't; nor with a hot chisel. Besides, I've just told you it +didn't belong to me. Do I look like a cripple?" + +"More like a fool," answered the other with a chuckle. + +"You're a naughty old man," said Neil sorrowfully, "and if you were my +father I'd spank you." The other was too angry to find words, and +contented himself with bending back the damaged link and emitting a +series of choking sounds which Neil rightly judged to be expressions of +displeasure. When the repair was finished he pushed the machine angrily +toward the boy. + +"Take it and get out," he said. + +"Thanks. How much?" + +"Fifty cents," was the reply, given with a toothless grin and a chuckle. +"Twenty-five cents for the job and twenty-five cents for working +after hours." + +"Cheap enough," answered Neil, laying a quarter on the bench. "That's +for the job; I'll owe you the rest." + +When he reached the first corner the proprietor of the repair-shop was +still calling him names and shaking his fist in the air. + +"Looked just like a he-witch or something," chuckled Neil, as he +propelled his steed toward the campus. "Maybe he will put a curse upon +me and my right foot will wither up and I won't be able to kick goals!" + + + +CHAPTER X + +NEIL MAKES THE VARSITY + +On the 12th of October, Woodby College sent a team of light but very +fast football players to Erskine with full determination to bring back +the pigskin. And it very nearly succeeded. It was the first game of the +season for Erskine, but Woodby had already played two, and was +consequently rather more hardened. The first half ended with the score 6 +to 6, and the spectators, fully three hundred supporters of the Purple, +looked glum. Neil and Paul were given their chance in the second half, +taking the places of Gillam and Smith. Many other changes were made, +among them one which installed the newly discovered Browning at left +guard vice Carey, removed to the bench. + +There was no use in attempting to disguise the fact that Woodby +literally played all around the home team. Her backs gained almost at +will on end runs, and her punting was immeasurably superior. Foster, the +Erskine quarter-back, sent kick after kick high into the air, and twenty +yards was his best performance. On defense Woodby was almost equally +strong, and had Erskine not outweighted her in the line some five pounds +per man, would have forced her to kick every time. As it was, the +purple-clad backs made but small and infrequent gains through the line, +and very shortly found that runs outside of tackle or end were her best +cards, even though, as was several times the case, her runners were +nailed back of her line for losses. + +Team play was as yet utterly lacking in the Erskine eleven, and though +the men were as a rule individually brilliant or decidedly promising, +Woodby had far the best of it there. Fumbles were many on both sides, +but Erskine's were the most costly. Stone's fumble of a free kick soon +after the second half began gave Woodby her second touch-down, from +which, luckily, she failed to kick goal. The veterans on the team, +Tucker at left tackle, Graham at center, Cowan at right-guard, Foster at +quarter, and Devoe at right end, played well with the glaring exception +of Cowan, whose work in the second half especially was so slipshod that +Mills, with wrath in his eye, took him out and put in Bell, a second +eleven man. + +With the score 11 to 6 against her, Erskine braced up and fought +doggedly to score. Neil proved the best ground-gainer, and made several +five-and ten-yard runs around right end. Once, with the ball on Woodby's +twelve yards and the audience shouting vehemently for a touch-down, +Foster called on Paul for a plunge through right tackle. Paul made two +yards, but in some manner lost the ball, a fumble that put Erskine back +on her fifty-yard line and that sent her hopes of tying the score +down to zero. + +The second half was to be but fifteen minutes long, and fully ten of the +fifteen had gone by when Erskine took up her journey toward Woodby's +goal again. Mason, the full-back, and Neil were sent plunging, bucking, +hurdling at the enemy's breastworks, and time after time just managed to +gain their distance in the three downs. Fortune was favoring Erskine, +and Woodby's lighter men were slower and slower in finding their +positions after each pile-up. Then, with the pigskin on Woodby's +twenty-eight yards, Neil was given the ball for a try outside of right +tackle, and by brilliantly leaving his interference, which had become +badly tangled up, got safely away and staggered over the line just at +the corner. The punt-out was a success and Devoe kicked goal, making the +score 12 to 11 in Erskine's favor. For the rest of the half the home +team was satisfied to keep Woodby away from its goal, and made no effort +to score. Woodby left the field after the fashion of victors, which, +practically, they were, while the Erskine players trotted subduedly back +to the locker-house with unpleasant anticipations of what was before +them--anticipations fully justified by subsequent events. For Mills tore +them up very eloquently, and promised them that if they were scored on +by the second eleven before the game with Harvard he'd send every man +of them to the benches and take the second to Cambridge. + +Neil walked back to college beside Sydney Burr, insisting that that +youth should take his hands from the levers and be pushed. Paul had got +into the habit of always accompanying Cowan on his return from the +field, and as Neil liked the big sophomore less and less the more he saw +of him, he usually fell back on either Ted Foster or Sydney Burr for +company. To-day it was Sydney. On the way that youth surprised Neil by +his intelligent discussion and criticism of the game he had +just watched. + +"How on earth did you get to know so much about football?" asked Neil. +"You talk like a varsity coach." + +"Do I?" said Sydney, flushing with pleasure. "I--I always liked the +game, and I've studied it quite a bit and watched it all I could. Of +course, I can never play, but I get a good deal of enjoyment out of it. +Sometimes"--his shyness returned momentarily and he hesitated--"sometimes +I make believe that I'm playing, you know; put myself, in imagination, +in the place of one of the team. To-day I--to-day I was you," he added +with a deprecatory laugh. + +"You don't say?" cried Neil. Then the pathos of it struck him and he was +silent a moment. The cripple's love and longing for sport in which he +could never hope to join seemed terribly sad and gave him a choking +sensation in his throat. + +"If I had been--like other fellows," continued Sydney, quite cheerfully, +"I should have played everything--football, baseball, hockey, +tennis--everything! I'd give--anything I've got--if I could just run +from here to the corner." He was silent a minute, looking before him +with eyes from which the usual brightness was gone. Then, "My, it must +be good to run and walk and jump around just as you want to," he sighed. + +"Yes," muttered Neil, "but--but that was a good little run you made +to-day." Sydney looked puzzled, then laughed. + +"In the game, you mean? Yes, wasn't it? And I made a touch-down and won +the game. I was awfully afraid at one time that that Woodby quarter-back +was going to nab me; that's why I made for the corner of the field +like that." + +"I fancied that was the reason," answered Neil gravely. Then their eyes +met and they laughed together. + +"Your friend Gale didn't play so well to-day," said Sydney presently. +Neil shook his head with a troubled air. + +"No, he played rotten ball, and that's a fact. I don't know what's got +into him of late. He doesn't seem to care whether he pleases Mills or +not. I think it's that chap Cowan. He tells Paul that Mills and Devoe +are imposing on him and that he isn't getting a fair show and all that +sort of stuff. Know Cowan?" + +"Only by sight. I don't think I'd care to know him; he looks a good deal +like--like--" + +"Just so," laughed Neil. "That's the way he strikes me." + +After dinner that evening Paul bewailed what he called his ill luck. +Neil listened patiently for a while; then-- + +"Look here, Paul," he said, "don't talk such rot. Luck had nothing to do +with it, and you know it. The trouble was that you weren't in shape; +you've been shilly-shallying around of late and just doing good enough +work to keep Mills from dropping you to the scrub. It's that miserable +idiot Tom Cowan that's to blame; he's been filling your head with +nonsense; telling you that you are so good that you don't have to +practise, and that Mills doesn't dare drop you, and lots of poppycock of +that kind. Now, I'll tell you, chum, that the best thing to do is to go +honestly to work and do your best." + +Paul was deeply insulted by this plain speaking, and very promptly took +himself off up-stairs to Cowan's room. Of late he spent a good deal of +his time there and Neil was getting worried. For Cowan was notably an +idler, and the wonder was how he managed to keep himself in college even +though he was taking but a partial course. To be sure, Cowan's fate +didn't bother Neil a bit, but he was greatly afraid that his example +would be followed by his roommate, who, at the best, was none too fond +of study. Neil sat long that evening over an unopened book, striving to +think of some method of weakening Cowan's hold on Paul--a hold that was +daily growing stronger and which threatened to work ill to the latter. +In the end Neil sighed, tossed down the volume, and made ready for bed +without having found a solution of the problem. + +The following Monday Neil was rewarded for his good showing in the +Woodby game by being taken on to the varsity. Paul remained on the +second team, and Cowan, greatly to that gentleman's bewilderment and +wrath, joined him there. The two teams, with their substitutes, went to +training-table that day in Pearson's boarding-house on Elm Street, and +preparation for the game with Harvard, now but nine days distant, began +in earnest. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE RESULT OF A FUMBLE + +Sydney Burr had trundled himself out to the field and had drawn his +tricycle close up to the low wooden fence that divides the gridiron from +the grand stand and against which the players on the benches lean their +blanketed backs. From there he had an uninterrupted view. It was a +perfect afternoon. Overhead a few white clouds drifted lazily about +against a warm blue sky. The sun shone brightly and mocked at light +overcoats. But for all that there was an October sparkle in the air, and +once in a while a tiny breeze from the north came across the yellowing +field and whispered that winter was not far behind. + +Sydney had a rug thrown over his lower limbs and wore a warm white +woolen sweater. There was quite a dash of color in his usually pale +cheeks, and his blue eyes flashed with interest as he watched the men at +practise. Near at hand a panting group of fellows were going through the +signals, the quarter crying his numbers with gasps for breath, then +passing the ball to half-or full-back and quickly throwing himself into +the interference. Sydney recognized him as Bailey, the varsity +substitute. Sydney knew almost all the players by sight now and the +names of many. + +Near the east goal two lines of heaving, charging men were being coached +by Mills in breaking through. Stowell, the big, good-natured substitute +center, was bending over the ball. Sydney could hear Mills's +sharp voice: + +"Now draw back, defense, and lunge into them! Get the start on them!" + +Then the ball was snapped and the two ranks heaved and pitched a moment +before the offense broke through and scattered the turf with little +clumps of writhing players. + +"That was good, Tucker, good!" cried Mills. "You did just as I told you. +Now give the ball to the other side. Weight forward, defense, every one +of you on his toes. _Browning, watch that ball!_ Now get into them, +every one! Block them!" + +At the other end of the field six fellows were kicking goal and six +others, stretched upon the turf, were holding the balls for them. Devoe +was coaching. Sydney could see Neil, the farthest away of any, lifting +the leather toward the posts from a difficult angle on the twenty-yard +line. Even as he watched, the ball sailed away from Neil's toe and went +fair over the cross-bar, and Sydney silently applauded. He set himself +to recognizing the other kickers. There was Gale, the tall and rather +heavy fellow in the crimson sleeves; and Mason, equally tall but all +corners and angles; and Smith, and Gillam, and Foster. Devoe seemed to +be laying down the law forcibly to Gale; he was gesticulating with his +hands and nodding his head like a Chinese mandarin. Sydney could not +hear what he was saying, nor could he see Gale's face; but in the +attitude of the captain there was exasperation, and in that of Gale +sullen impatience. + +Another group at signal practise drew nigh, and Sydney gave his +attention to it. Reardon, the second eleven quarter, sang his signals in +a queer, shrill voice that was irresistibly funny. In front of Sydney he +raised himself, wiped his palms on his stained trousers, grimaced at one +of the halves, and took a deep breath. Then-- + +"_Signal_!" he cried. "_7--8--4--6!_" + +Eight half bounded by him, full-back fell in behind and took the ball, +left half dashed after, and the group trotted away to line up again ten +yards down the field. But presently the lines at the east goal broke up +and trotted toward the benches, and Mills called the players in from all +parts of the field. The water-pail was surrounded and the thirsty +players rinsed out their mouths, well knowing the reprimand that awaited +should they be rash enough to take even one swallow. Sweaters were +hurriedly donned, Simson dealing them out from the pile on the ground, +and the fellows sank on to the benches. Neil saw Sydney, and talked to +him over the fence until he heard his name called from the line-up. + +"I think I shall make a touch-down to-day," said Sydney. Neil shook his +head, smiling: + +"I don't know about that; you're not feeling so fit to-day, you know." + +"Oh, that doesn't matter," answered the cripple. "You just watch me." + +Neil laughed, and hurrying off, was fitted with his head harness and +trotted out to his place. Sydney was mistaken, as events proved, for +he--in the person of Neil Fletcher--failed to get over the second's +goal-line in either of the short halves; which was also true of all the +other varsity players. But if she didn't score, the varsity kept the +second at bay, and that was a good deal. The second played desperately, +being convinced that Mills would keep his promise and, if they succeeded +in scoring on their opponents, give them the honor of facing Harvard the +following Wednesday. But the varsity, being equally convinced of the +fact, played quite as desperately, and the two teams trotted off with +honors even. + +"Sponge off, everybody!" was the stentorian command from the trainer, +and one by one the players leaned over while the big, dripping sponge +was applied to face and head. Then sweaters were again donned and the +four laps around the field began, the men trotting by twos and threes, +or, in the case of the injured ones, trailing along behind. + +The next day, Wednesday, October 16th, Erskine played Dexter. Dexter is +a preparatory school that has a way of turning out strong elevens, many +of which in previous years had put up excellent fights against Erskine. +On the present occasion Erskine went into the game with a line largely +composed of substitutes and a back-field by no means as strong as +possible. During the first half Dexter was forced to give all her +attention to defending her goal, and had no time for incursions into +Erskine territory. The home college ran up 17 points, Devoe missing one +goal. In the second half Erskine made further changes in her team. Cowan +took Witter's place at right-guard, Reardon went in at quarter in place +of Bailey, and Neil, who had watched the first half greedily from the +side-line, went in at left half. + +It was Dexter's kick-off, and she sent the ball fully forty yards. +Reardon called to Neil to take it. That youth got it on his ten yards, +and by fine dodging ran it back to the eighteen-yard line. From there it +was advanced by straight line-plunging to Erskine's forty yards, and it +seemed that a procession down the field to another touch-down had begun. +But at this point Fate and Tom Cowan took a hand. Cowan was taken back +of the line for a plunge through tackle. With right half and full lined +up in tandem behind him he was given the ball and shot through easily +for several yards. Then, his support gone, he staggered on for five +yards more by sheer force of weight with two Dexter backs dragging at +him, and there, for no apparent cause, dropped the pigskin. The Dexter +quarter-back, running in to stop Cowan, was on it in a twinkling, had +skirted the right end of the _mêlée_ and was racing toward Erskine's +goal. It had happened so quickly and unexpectedly that the runner was +fifteen yards to the good before pursuit began. Devoe and Neil took up +the chase, but it was a hopeless task, and in another minute the little +band of crimson-adorned Dexter supporters and substitutes on the +side-line were yelling like mad. The Dexter quarter placed the ball +nicely behind the very center of the west goal, and when it was taken +out none but a cripple could have failed to kick it over the cross-bar. +As Dexter's left-end was not a cripple her score changed from a 5 to +a 6. + +But that was the end of her offensive work for that afternoon. Erskine +promptly took the ball from her after the kick-off, and kept it until +Neil had punctured Dexter's line between left-guard and tackle and waded +through a sea of clutching foes twelve yards for a touch-down. Devoe +once more failed at goal, and five minutes later the game came to an end +with the final score 22 to 6. Dexter was happy and Erskine disgruntled. + +In the locker-house after the game Mills had some sharp things to say, +and didn't hesitate to say them in his best manner. There was +absolutely no favoritism shown; he began at one end of the line and went +to the other, then dropped back to left half, took in quarter on the +way, and ended up with full. Some got off easy; Neil was among them; and +so was Devoe, for it is not a good policy for a coach to endanger a +captain's authority by public criticism; but when it was all over no one +felt slighted. And when all were beginning to breathe easier, thinking +the storm had passed, it burst forth anew. + +"Cowan, I don't see how you came to drop that ball," said Mills, in +fresh exasperation. "Why, great Scott, man, there was no one touching +you except a couple of schoolboys tugging at your legs! What was the +matter? Paralysis? Vertigo? Or haven't you learned yet, after two years +of football playing, to hang on to the ball? There's a cozy nook waiting +on the second scrub for fellows like you!" + +Cowan, his pride already sorely wounded, found the last too much for his +temper. + +"No one can help an occasional accident," he blurted. "If I did fumble, +there's no reason why you should insult me. Lots of fellows have fumbled +before and got off without being walked on. I've played my position for +two years, and I guess I know how to do it. But when a fellow is singled +out as a--a scapegoat--" + +"That will do, Cowan," interrupted Mills quietly. "You've lost your +temper. We don't want men on this team who can't stand criticism--" + +"Criticism!" sneered Cowan, looking very red and ugly. + +"Yes, criticism!" answered Mills sharply, "and scolding, too, my friend. +I'm here to turn out a team that will win from Robinson and not to cater +to any one's vanity; when it's necessary, I'm going to scold and say +some hard things. But I've never insulted any fellow and I never will. +I've had my eye on you ever since practise began, Cowan, and let me tell +you that you haven't at any time passed muster; your playing's been +slovenly, careless, and generally mean. You've soldiered half the time. +And I think we can get along without you for the rest of the season." + +Mills, his blue eyes sparkling, turned away, and Stowell and White, who +for a minute past had been striving to check Cowan's utterances, now +managed to drag him away. + +"Shut up!" whispered White hoarsely. "Don't be a fool! Come out of +here!" And they hauled him outside, where, on the porch, he gave vent +anew to his wrath until they left him finally in disgust. + +He slouched in to see Paul after dinner that evening, much to Neil's +impatience, and taking up a commanding position on a corner of the +study-table, recited his tale of injustice with great eloquence. Paul, +who had spent the afternoon with other unfortunates on the benches, was +full of sympathy. + +"It's a dirty shame, Tom," he said. "And I'm glad you waded into Mills +the way you did. It was fine!" + +"Little white-haired snake!" exclaimed Cowan. "Drops me from training +just because I make a fumble! Why, you've fumbled, Paul, and so's +Fletcher here; lots of times. But he doesn't lay _you_ off! Oh, dear, +no; you're swells whose names will look well in the line-up for the +Robinson game! But here I've played on the team for two years, and now +off I go just because I dropped a ball. It's rank injustice! + +"I suppose he thinks I've got to play football here. If he does he's +away off, that's all. I could have gone to Robinson this fall and had +everything I wanted. They guaranteed me a position at guard or tackle, +and I wouldn't have needed to bother with studies as I do here, either." +The last remark called a smile to Neil's face, and Cowan unfortunately +glanced his way and saw it. + +"I dare say if I was willing to toady to Mills and Devoe, and tell +everybody they're the finest football leaders that ever came down the +pike, it would be different," he sneered angrily. "Maybe then Mills +would give me private instruction in goal-kicking and let me black his +boots for him." + +Neil closed his book and leaned back in his chair, a little disk of red +in each cheek. + +"Now, look here, Tom Cowan, let's have this out," he said quietly. +"You're hitting at me, of course--" + +"Oh, keep out, chum," protested Paul. "Cowan hasn't mentioned you once." + +"He doesn't need to," answered Neil. "I understand without it. But let +me tell you, Cowan, that I do not toady to either Mills or Devoe. I do +treat them, however, as I would any one who was in authority over me. I +don't think merely because I've played the game before that I know all +the football there is to know." + +"Meaning that I do?" growled Cowan. + +"I mean that you've got a swelled head, Cowan, and that when Mills said +you hadn't been doing your best he only told the truth, and what every +fellow knows." + +"Shut up, Neil!" cried Paul angrily. "It isn't necessary for you to +pitch into Cowan just because he's down on his luck." + +"I don't mind him," said Cowan, eying Neil with hatred. "He's sore about +what I said. I dare say I shouldn't have said it. If he's Mills's +darling--" + +Neil pushed back his chair, and rose to his feet with blazing eyes. + +"Kindly get out of here," he said. "I've had enough of your insults. +This is my room; please leave it!" Cowan stared a moment in surprise, +hesitated, threw a glance of inquiry at Paul's troubled and averted +face, and slid from the table. + +"Of course you can put me out of your room," he sneered. "For that +matter, I'm glad to leave it. I did think, though, that part of the shop +was Paul's, but I dare say he has to humor you." + +"The room's as much mine as his," said Paul, "and I want you to stay in +it." He looked defiantly over at his friend. Neil had not bargained for +a quarrel with Paul, but was too incensed to back down. + +"And I say you sha'n't stay," he declared. "Paul and I will settle the +proprietorship of the room after you're out of it. Now you get!" + +"Maybe you'll put me out?" asked Cowan with a show of bravado. But he +glanced toward the door as he spoke. Neil nodded. + +"Maybe I will," he answered grimly. + +"Cowan's my guest, Neil!" cried Paul. "And you've no right to put him +out, and I sha'n't let you!" + +"He'll go out of here, if I have to fight him and you too, Paul!" Paul +stared in wonderment. He was so used to being humored by his roommate +that this declaration of war took his breath away. Cowan laughed with +attempted nonchalance. + +"Your friend's a bit chesty, Paul," he said. "Perhaps we'd better humor +him." + +"No, stay where you are," said Paul. "If he thinks he's boss of me he's +mistaken." He glared wrathfully at Neil, and yet with a trifle of +uneasiness. Paul was no coward, but physical conflict with Neil was +something so contrary to the natural order that it appalled him. Neil +removed the gorgeous bottle-green velvet jacket that he wore in the +evenings, and threw open the study door. Then he faced Cowan. That +gentleman returned his gaze for a moment defiantly. But something in +Neil's expression caused his eyes to drop and seek the portal. He +laughed uneasily, and with simulated indifference laid his hand on +Paul's shoulder. + +"Come on, old chap," he said, "let's get out before we're torn to bits. +There's no pleasure in staying with such a disagreeable fire-eater, +anyhow. Come up to my room, and let him cool off." + +Paul hesitated, and then turned to follow Cowan, who was strolling +toward the door. Angry as he was, deep in his heart he was glad to avoid +conflict with his chum. + +"All right," he answered in a voice that trembled, "we'll go; +but"--turning to Neil--"if you think I'm going to put up with this sort +of thing, you're mistaken. You can have this room, and I'll +get another." + +"I'd suggest your rooming with Cowan," answered Neil, "since you're so +fond of him." + +"Your friend's jealous," laughed Cowan from the hall. Paul joined him, +slamming the door loudly as he went. + +Neil heard Cowan's laughter and the sound of their steps as they climbed +the stairs. For several moments he stood motionless, staring at the +door. Then he shook his head, donned his jacket, and sat down again. Now +that it was done, he was intensely sorry. As for the quarrel with Cowan, +that troubled not at all; but an open breach with Paul was something new +and something which, just at this time especially, might work for ill. +Paul was already so far under Cowan's domination that anything tending +to foster their friendship was unfortunate. Neil was ashamed, too, of +his burst of temper, and the remainder of the evening passed +miserably enough. + +When Paul returned he was cold and repellent, and answered Neil's +attempts at conversation in monosyllables. Neil, however, was glad to +find that Paul said nothing further about a change of quarters, and in +that fact found encouragement. After all, Paul would soon get over his +anger, he told himself; the two had been firm friends for three years, +and it would take something more than the present affair to +estrange them. + +But as the days passed and Paul showed no disposition to make friends +again, Neil began to despair. He knew that Cowan was doing all in his +power to widen the breach and felt certain that left to himself Paul +would have forgotten his grievance long ago. Paul spent most of his time +in Cowan's room when at home, and Neil passed many dull hours. One thing +there was, however, which pleased him. Cowan's absence from the field +worked a difference from the first in Paul's playing, and the latter was +now evidently putting his heart into his work. He made such a good +showing between the day of Cowan's dismissal and the following Wednesday +that he was scheduled to play right half against Harvard, and was +consequently among the little army of players and supporters that +journeyed to Cambridge on that day. + + + +CHAPTER XII + +ON THE HOSPITAL LIST + +Harvard's good showing thus far during the season convinced Erskine that +could she hold the crimson warriors down to five scores she would be +doing remarkably well, and that could she, by any miracle, cross +Harvard's goal-line she would be practically victorious. The team that +journeyed to Cambridge on October 23d was made up as follows: + +Stone, l.e.; Tucker, l.t.; Carey, l.g.; Stowell, c.; Witter, r.g.; +White, r.t.; Devoe, r.e.; Foster, q.b.; Fletcher, l.h.b.; Gale, r.h.b.; +Mason, f.b. + +Besides these, eight substitutes went along and some thirty patriotic +students followed. Among the latter was Sydney Burr and "Fan" +Livingston. Neil had brought the two together, and Livingston had +readily taken to the crippled youth. In Livingston's care Sydney had no +difficulty in making the trip to Soldiers Field and back comfortably +and safely. + +There is no need to tell in detail here of the Harvard-Erskine contest. +Those who saw it will give Erskine credit for a plucky struggle against +a heavier, more advanced, and much superior team. In the first half +Harvard scored three times, and the figures were 17-0. In the second +half both teams put in several substitutes. For Erskine, Browning went +in for Carey, Graham for Stowell, Hurst for Witter, Pearse for Mason, +and Bailey for Foster. In this half Harvard crossed Erskine's goal-line +three more times without much difficulty, while Erskine made the most of +a stroke of rare good luck, and changed her goose-egg for the figure 5. + +On the Purple's forty yards Harvard fumbled, not for the first time that +day, and Neil, more by accident than design, got the pigskin on the +bounce, and, skirting the opposing right end, went up the field for a +touch down without ever being in danger. The Erskine supporters went mad +with delight, and the Harvard stand was ruefully silent. Devoe missed a +difficult goal and a few minutes later the game ended with a final score +of 34-5. Mills, however, would gladly have yielded that five points, if +by so doing he could have taken ten from the larger score. He was +disappointed in the team's defense, and realized that a wonderful +improvement was necessary if Robinson was to be defeated. + +And so the Erskine players were plainly given to understand the next day +that they had not acquired all the glory they thought they had. The +advance guard of the assistant coaches put in an appearance in the shape +of Jones and Preston, both old Erskine football men, and took hold with +a vim. Jones, a former guard, a big man with bristling black hair, took +the line men under his wing and made them jump. Neil, Paul, and several +others were taken in hand by Preston, and were daily put through a +vigorous course of punting and kicking. Neil was fast acquiring speed +and certainty in the art of kicking goals from drop and placement, while +Paul promised to turn out a fair second choice. + +Jones, as every one soon learned, was far from satisfied with the line +of material at his disposal. He wanted more weight, especially in the +center trio, and was soon pleading with Mills to have Cowan reinstated. +The head coach ultimately relented, and Devoe was given to understand +that if Cowan expressed himself decently regretful and determined to do +good work he could go back into the second. The big sophomore, who, by +his frequent avowals, was in college for no other purpose than to play +football, had simply been lost since his dismissal, and, upon hearing +Devoe's message, eagerly came off his high horse and made a visit to +Mills. What he said and what Mills said is not known; but Cowan went +back into the second team at right-guard, and on Saturday was given a +try at that position in the game with Erstham. He did so well that Jones +was highly pleased, and Mills found it in his heart to forgive. The +results of the Erstham game were both unexpected and important. + +Instead of the comparatively easy victory anticipated, Erskine barely +managed to save herself from being played to a standstill, and the final +figures were 6-0 in her favor. The score was made in the last eight +minutes of the second half by fierce line-bucking, but not before half +of the purple line had given place to substitutes, and one of the +back-field had been carried bodily off the gridiron. + +With the ball on Erstham's twenty-six yards, where it had been +desperately carried by the relentless plunging and hurdling of Neil, +Smith, and Mason, Erstham twice successfully repelled the onslaught, and +it was Erskine's third down with two yards to gain. To lose the ball by +kicking was the last thing to be thought of, and so, despite the fact +that hitherto well-nigh every attempt at end running had met with +failure, Foster gave the ball to Neil for a try around the Erstham left +end. It was a forlorn hope, and unfortunately Erstham was looking for +it. Neil found his outlet blocked by his own interference, and was +forced to run far out into the field. The play was a failure from the +first. Erstham's big right half and an equally big line man tackled Neil +simultaneously for a loss and threw him heavily. + +When they got off him Neil tried to arise, but, with a groan, subsided +again on the turf. The whistle blew and Simson ran on. Neil was +evidently suffering a good deal of pain, for his face was ashen and he +rolled his head from side to side with eyes half closed. His right arm +lay outstretched and without movement, and in an instant the trouble was +found. Simson examined the injury quickly and called for the doctor, who +probed Neil's shoulder with knowing fingers, while the latter's white +face was being sopped with the dripping sponge. + +"Right shoulder's dislocated, Jim," said Dr. Prentiss quietly to the +trainer. "Take hold here; put your hands here, and pull toward you +steadily. Now!" + +Then Neil fainted. + +When he regained consciousness he was being borne from the field between +four of his fellows. At the locker-house the injured shoulder was laid +bare, and the doctor went to work. + +The pain had subsided, and only a queer soreness remained. Neil watched +operations with interest, his face fast regaining its color. + +"Nothing much, is it?" he asked. + +"Not a great deal. You've smashed your shoulder-blade a bit, and maybe +torn a ligament. I'll fix you up in a minute." + +"Will it keep me from playing?" + +"Yes, for a while, my boy." + +Bandage after bandage was swathed about the shoulder, and the arm was +fixed in what Neil conceived to be the most unnatural and awkward +position possible. + +"How long is this going to lay me up?" he asked anxiously. But the +doctor shook his head. + +"Can't tell yet. We'll see how you get along." + +"Well, a week?" + +"Maybe." + +"Two?" + +"Possibly." + +"But--but it can't! It mustn't!" he cried. The door opened and Simson +entered. "Simson," he called, "he says this may keep me laid up for two +weeks. It won't, will it?" + +"I hope not, Fletcher. But you must get it well healed, or else it may +go back on you again. Don't worry about--" + +"Don't worry! But, great Scott, the Robinson game's only a month off!" + +The trainer patted his arm soothingly. + +"I know, but we must make the best of it. It's hard lines, but the only +thing to do is to take care of yourself and get well as soon as +possible. The doc will get you out again as soon as it can be done, but +you'll have to be doing your part, Fletcher, and keeping quiet and +cheerful--" + +"Cheerful!" groaned Neil. + +"And getting strong. Now you're fixed and I'll go over to your room with +you. How do you feel?" + +"All right, I suppose," replied Neil hopelessly. + +Simson walked beside him back to college and across the campus and the +common to his room, and saw him installed in an easy-chair with a pillow +behind the injured shoulder. + +"There you are," said the trainer. "Prentiss will look in this evening +and I'll see you in the morning. You'd better keep indoors for a few +days, you know. I'll have your meals sent over. Don't worry about this, +but keep yourself cheerful and--" + +Neil leaned his head against the pillow and closed his eyes. + +"Oh, go 'way," he muttered miserably. + +When Paul came in half an hour later he found Neil staring motionless +out of the window, settled melancholy on his face. + +"How bad is it, chum?" asked Paul. He hadn't called Neil "chum" for over +a week--not since their quarrel. + +"Bad enough to spoil my chances for the Robinson game," answered Neil +bitterly. Paul gave vent to a low whistle. + +"By Jove! I am sorry, old chap. That's beastly, isn't it? What does +Prentiss say?" + +Neil told him and gained some degree of animation in fervid protestation +against his fate. For want of another, he held the doctor to account for +everything, only admitting Simson to an occasional share in the blame. +Paul looked genuinely distressed, joining him in denunciation of +Prentiss and uttering such bits of consolation as occurred to him. These +generally consisted of such original remarks as "Perhaps it won't be as +bad as they think." "I don't believe doctors know everything, after +all." "Mills will make them get you around before two weeks, I'll bet." + +After dinner Paul returned to report a state of general gloom at +training-table. + +"Every one's awfully sorry and cut up about it, chum. Mills says he'll +come and look you up in the morning, and told me to tell you to keep +your courage up." After his information had given out, Paul walked +restlessly about the study, taking up book after book only to lay it +down again, and behaving generally like a fish out of water. Neil, +grateful for the other's sympathy, and secretly delighted at the healing +of the breach, could afford to be generous. + +"I say, Paul, I'll be all right. Just give me the immortal Livy, will +you? Thanks. And you might put that tray out of the way somewhere and +shove the drop-light a bit nearer. That's better. I'll be all right now; +you run along." + +"Run along where?" asked Paul. + +"Well, I thought maybe you were going out or--somewhere." + +Paul's face expressed astonishment. He took up a book and settled +himself firmly in the wicker rocking-chair. + +"No," he said, "I'm not going anywhere." + +Neil studied in silence a while, and Paul turned several pages of his +book. Then footsteps sounded on the stairs and Cowan's voice hailed Paul +from beyond the closed door. + +"O Paul, are you coming along?" + +Paul glanced irresolutely from the door to Neil's face, which was bent +calmly over his book. Then--"No," he called gruffly, "not to-night!" + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +SYDNEY STUDIES STRATEGY + +Neil was holding a levee. Livingston shared the couch with him. Foster +reclined in Paul's armchair. Sydney Burr sat in the protesting wicker +rocker, his crutches beside him, and South, his countenance much +disfigured by strips of surgeon's plaster, grinned steadily from the +table, where he sat and swung his feet. Paul was up-stairs in Cowan's +room, for while he and Neil had quite made up their difference, and +while Paul spent much of his leisure time with his chum, yet he still +cultivated the society of the big sophomore at intervals. Neil, however, +believed he could discern a gradual lessening of Paul's regard for +Cowan, and was encouraged. He had grown to look upon his injury and the +idleness it enforced with some degree of cheerfulness since it had +brought about reconciliation between him and his roommate, and, as he +believed, rescued the latter to some extent from the influence of Cowan. + +"Doc says the shoulder is 'doing nicely,' whatever that may mean," Neil +was saying, "and that I will likely be able to get back to light work +next week." The announcement didn't sound very joyful, for it was now +only the evening of the fourth day since the accident, and "next week" +seemed a long way off to him. + +"It was hard luck, old man," said South. + +"Your sympathy's very dear to me," answered Neil, "but it would seem +more genuine if you'd stop grinning from ear to ear." + +"Can't," replied South. "It's the plaster." + +"He's been looking like the Cheshire cat for two days," said Livingston. +"You see, when they patched him up they asked if he was suffering much +agony, and he grinned that way just to show that he was a hero, and +before he could get his face straight they had the plaster on. He gets +credit for being much better natured than he really is." + +"Credit!" said South. "I get worse than that. 'Sandy' saw me grinning at +him in class yesterday and got as mad as a March hare; said I was +'deesrespectful.'" + +"But how did it happen?" asked Neil, struggling with his laughter. + +"Lacrosse," replied South. "Murdoch was tending goal and I was trying to +get the ball by him. I tripped over his stick and banged my face against +a goal-iron. That's all." + +"Seems to me it's enough," said Foster. "What did you do to Murdoch?" +South opened his eyes in innocent surprise. + +"Nothing." + +"Nothing be blowed, my boy. Murdoch's limping to beat the band." + +"Oh!" grinned South. "That was afterward; he got mixed up with my stick, +and, I fear, hurt his shins." + +"Well," said Neil, when the laughter was over, "football seems deadly +enough, but I begin to think it's a parlor game for rainy evenings +alongside of lacrosse." + +"There won't be many fellows left for the Robinson game," said Sydney, +"if they keep on getting hurt." + +"That's so," Livingston concurred. "Fletcher, White, Jewell, Brown, +Stowell--who else?" + +"Well, I'm not feeling well myself," said Foster. + +"We were referring to _players_, Teddy, my love," replied South sweetly. + +"Insulted!" cried Foster, leaping wildly to his feet. "It serves me +right for associating with a lot of freshmen. Good-night, Fletcher, my +wounded gladiator. Get well and come back to us; all will be forgiven." + +"I'd like the chance of forgiving the fellow that jumped on my +shoulder," said Neil. "I'd send him to join Murdoch." + +"That's not nice," answered Foster gravely. "Forgive your enemies. +Good-night, you cubs." + +"Hold on," said Livingston, "I'm going your way. Good-night, Fletcher. +Cheer up and get well. We need you and so does the team. Remember the +class is looking forward to seeing you win a few touch-downs in the +Robinson game." + +"Oh, I'll be all right," answered Neil, "and if they'll let me into the +game I'll do my best. Only--I'm afraid I'll be a bit stale when I get +out again." + +"Not you," declared Livingston heartily. "'Age can not wither nor custom +stale your infinite variety.'" + +"That's a quotation from--somebody," said South accusingly. "'Fan' wants +us to think he made it up. Besides, I don't think it's correct; it +should be, 'Custom can not age nor wither stale your various interests.' +Hold on, I'm not particular; I'll walk along with you two. But fortune +send we don't meet the Dean," he continued, as he slid to the floor. "I +called on him Monday; a little affair of too many cuts; 'Mr. South,' +said he sorrowfully, 'avoid two things while in college--idleness and +evil associations.' I promised, fellows, and here I am breaking that +promise. Farewell, Fletcher; bear up under your great load of +affliction. Good-night, Burr. Kindly see that he gets his medicine +regularly every seven minutes, and don't let him sleep in a draft; +pajamas are much warmer." + +"Come on, you grinning idiot," said Foster. + +When the door had closed upon the three, Sydney placed his crutches +under his arms and moved over to the chair beside the couch. + +"Look here, Neil, you don't really think, do you, that you'll have any +trouble getting back into your place?" + +"I hardly know. Of course two weeks of idleness makes a big difference. +And besides, I'm losing a lot of practise. This new close-formation that +Mills is teaching will be Greek to me." + +"It's simple enough," said Sydney. "The backs are bunched right up to +the line, the halfs on each side of quarter, and the full just +behind him." + +"Well, but I don't see--" + +"Wait," interrupted Sydney, "I'll show you." + +He drew a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and passed it to the +other. Neil scowled over it a moment, and then looked up helplessly. + +[Illustration] + +"What is it?" he asked. "Something weird in geometry?" + +"No," laughed Sydney, "it's a play from close-formation. I drew it this +morning." + +"Oh," said Neil. "Let's see; what--Here, explain it; where do I come +in?" + +"Why, your position is at the left of quarter, behind the center-guard, +and a little farther back. Full stands directly behind quarter. See?" + +"Pshaw! if we get into a crowd like that," said Neil, "we'll get all +tied up." + +"No you won't; not the way Mills and Devoe are teaching it. You see, the +idea is to knife the backs through; there isn't any plunging to speak of +and not much hurdling. The forwards open up a hole, and almost before +the ball's well in play one of the backs is squirming through. Quarter +gives you the ball at a hand-pass, always; there's no long passing done; +except, of course, for a kick. Being right up to the line when play +begins it only takes you a fraction of a second to hit it; and then, if +the hole's there you're through before the other side has opened their +eyes. Of course, it all depends on speed and the ability of the line-men +to make holes. You've got to be on your toes, and you've got to get off +them like a streak of lightning." + +"Well, maybe it's all right," said Neil doubtfully, "but it looks like +a mix-up. Who gets the ball in this play here?" + +"Right half. Left half plunges through between left-guard and center to +make a diversion. Full-back goes through between left tackle and end +ahead of right half, who carries the ball. Quarter follows. Of course +the play can be made around end instead. What do you think of it?" + +"All right; but--I think I'd ought to have the ball." + +"You would when the play went to the right," laughed Sydney. "The fact +is, I--this particular play hasn't been used. I sort of got it up +myself. I don't know whether it would be any good. I sometimes try my +hand at inventing plays, just for fun, you know." + +"Really?" exclaimed Neil. "Well, you are smart. I could no more draw all +those nice little cakes and pies and things than I could fly. And it--it +looks plausible, I think. But I'm no authority on this sort of thing. +Are you going to show it to Devoe?" + +"Oh, no; I dare say it's no use. It may be as old as the hills; I +suppose it is. It's hard to find anything new nowadays in +football plays." + +"But you don't know," said Neil. "Maybe it's a good thing. I'll tell +you, Syd, you let me have this, and I'll show it to Mills." + +"Oh, I'd rather not," protested Sydney, reddening. "Of course it +doesn't amount to anything; I dare say he's thought of it long ago." + +"But maybe he hasn't," Neil persuaded. "Come, let me show it to him, +like a good chap." + +"Well--But couldn't you let him think you did it?" + +"No; I'd be up a tree if he asked me to explain it. But don't you be +afraid of Mills; he's a fine chap. Come and see me to-morrow night, +will you?" + +Sydney agreed, and, arising, swung himself across the study to where his +coat and cap lay. + +"By the way," he asked, "where's Paul to-night?" + +"He's calling on Cowan," answered Neil. + +Sydney looked as though he wanted to say something and didn't dare. +Finally he found courage. + +"I should think he'd stay in his room now that you're laid up," he said. + +"Oh, he does," answered Neil. "Paul's all right, only he's a +bit--careless. I guess I've humored him too much. Good-night. Don't +forget to-morrow night." + +Mills called the following forenoon. Ever since Neil's accident he had +made it his duty to inquire daily after him, and the two were getting +very well acquainted. Neil likened Mills to a crab--rather crusty on the +outside, he told himself, but all right when you got under the shell. +Neil was getting under the shell. + +To-day, after Neil had reported on his state of health and spirits, he +brought out Sydney's diagram. Mills examined it carefully, silently, for +some time. Then he nodded his head. + +"Not bad; rather clever. Who did it; you?" + +"No, I couldn't if I was to be killed. Sydney Burr did it. Maybe you've +seen him. A cripple; goes around on a tricycle." + +"Yes, I've seen the boy. But does he--has he played?" + +"Never; he's been a crip all his life." Mills opened his eyes in +astonishment. + +"Well, if that's so this is rather wonderful. It's a good play, +Fletcher, but it's not original; that is, not altogether. But as far as +Burr's concerned it is, of course. Look here, the fellow ought to be +encouraged. I'll see him and tell him to try his hand again." + +"He's coming here this evening," said Neil. "Perhaps you could look in +for a moment?" + +"I will. Let me take this; I want Jones to see it. He thinks he's a +wonder at diagrams," laughed Mills, "and I want to tell him this was got +up by a crippled freshman who has never kicked a ball!" + +And so that evening Mills and Neil and Sydney gathered about the big +study-table and talked long about gridiron tactics and strategy and the +art of inventing plays. Mills praised Sydney's production and encouraged +him to try again. + +"But let me tell you first how we're situated," said the head coach, "so +that you will see just what we're after. Our material is good but light. +Robinson will come into the field on the twenty-third weighing about +eight pounds more to a man in the line and ten pounds more behind it. +That's bad enough, but she's going to play tackle-back about the way +we've taught the second eleven to play it. Her tackles will weigh about +one hundred and eighty-five pounds each. She will take one of those men, +range him up in front of our center-guard hole, and put two backs with +him, tandem fashion. When that trio, joined by the other half and the +quarter, hits our line it's going right through it--that is, unless we +can find some means of stopping it. So far we haven't found that means. +We've tried several things; we're still trying; but we haven't found the +play we want. + +"If we're to win that game we've got to play on the defensive; we've got +to stop tackle-back and rely on an end run now and then and lots of +punting to get us within goal distance. Then our play is to score by a +quick run or a field-goal. The offense we're working up--we'll call it +close-formation for want of a better name--is, we think, the best we can +find. The idea is to open holes quickly and jab a runner through before +our heavier and necessarily slower opponents can concentrate their +weight at the point of attack. For the close-formation we have, I think, +plays covering every phase. And so, while a good offensive strategy +will be welcome, yet what we stand in greatest need of is a play to stop +Robinson's tackle-tandem. Now you apparently have ability in this line, +Mr. Burr; and, what's more, you have the time to study the thing up. +Supposing you try your hand and see what you can do. If you can find +what we want--something that the rest of us can't find, by the +way--you'll be doing as much, if not more, than any of us toward +securing a victory over Robinson. And don't hesitate to come and see me +if you find yourself in a quandary or whenever you've got anything +to show." + +And Sydney trundled himself back to his room and sat up until after +midnight puzzling his brains over the tackle-tandem play, finally +deciding that a better understanding of the play was necessary before he +could hope to discover its remedy. When he crawled into bed and closed +his tired eyes it was to see a confused jumble of orange-hued lines and +circles running riot in the darkness. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +MAKES A CALL + +Despite Neil's absence from Erskine Field, preparation for the crowning +conflict of the year went on with vigor and enthusiasm. The ranks of the +coaches were swelled from day to day by patriotic alumni, some of whom +were of real help, others of whom merely stood around in what Devoe +called their "store clothes" and looked wonderfully wise. Some came to +stay and took up quarters in the village, but the most merely tarried +overnight, and, having unburdened themselves to Mills and Devoe of much +advice, went away again, well pleased with their devotion to alma mater. + +The signals in use during the preliminary season had now been discarded +in favor of the more complicated system prepared for the "big game." +Each day there was half an hour of secret practise behind closed gates, +after which the assistant coaches emerged looking very wise and very +solemn. The make-up of the varsity eleven had changed not a little since +the game with Woodby, and was still being changed. Some positions were, +however, permanently filled. For instance, Browning had firmly +established his right to play left-guard, while the deposed Carey found +a rôle eminently suited to him at right tackle. Stowell became first +choice for center, and the veteran Graham went over to the second team. +Stone at left end, Tucker at left tackle, Devoe at right end, and Foster +at quarter, were fixtures. + +The problem of finding a man for the position of left half in place of +Neil had finally been solved by moving Paul over there from the other +side and giving his place to Gillam, a last year substitute. Paul's +style of play was very similar to Neil's. He was sure on his feet, a +hard, fast runner, and his line-plunging was often brilliant and +effective. The chief fault with him was that he was erratic. One day he +played finely, the next so listlessly as to cause the coaches to shake +their heads. His goal-kicking left something to be desired, but as yet +he was as good in that line as any save Neil. Gillam, although light, +was a hard line-bucker and a hurdler that was afraid of nothing. In fact +he gave every indication of excelling Paul by the time the Robinson +game arrived. + +One cause of Paul's uneven playing was the fact that he was worried +about his studies. He was taking only the required courses, seven in +all, making necessary an attendance of sixteen hours each week; but +Greek and mathematics were stumbling-blocks, and he was in daily fear +lest he find himself forbidden to play football. He knew well enough +where the trouble lay; he simply didn't give enough time to study. But, +somehow, what with the all-absorbing subject of making the varsity and +the hundred and one things that took up his time, the hours remaining +for "grinding" were all too few. He wondered how Neil, who seemed quite +as busy as himself, managed to give so much time to books. + +In one of his weekly evening talks to the football men Mills had +strongly counseled attention to study. There was no excuse, he had +asserted, for any of the candidates shirking lessons. + +"On the contrary, the fact that you are in training, that you are living +with proper regard for sleep, good food, fresh air, and plenty of hard +physical work, should and does make you able to study better. In my +experience, I am glad to say, I have known not one football captain who +did not stand among the first few in his class; and that same experience +has proved to me that, almost without exception, students who go in for +athletics are the best scholars. Healthful exercise and sensible living +go hand in hand with scholarly attainment. I don't mean to say that +every successful student has been an athlete, but I do say that almost +every athlete has been a successful student. And now that we understand +each other in this matter, none of you need feel any surprise if, should +you get into difficulties with the faculty over your studies, I refuse, +as I shall, to intercede in your behalf. I want men to deal with who are +honest, hard-working athletes, and honest, hard-working students. My own +experience and that of other coachers with whom I have talked, proves +that the brilliant football player or crew man who sacrifices class +standing for his athletic work may do for a while, but in the end is a +losing investment." + +And on top of that warning Paul had received one afternoon a printed +postal card, filled in here and there with the pen, which was +as follows: + +"Erskine College, _November 4, 1901_. + +"Mr. Paul Gale. + +"Dear Sir: You are requested to call on the Dean, Tuesday, November 5th, +during the regular office hours. + +"Yours respectfully, + +"Ephraim Levett, _Dean_." + +Paul obeyed the mandate with sinking heart. When he left the office it +was with a sensation of intense relief and with a resolve to apply +himself so well to his studies as to keep himself and the Dean +thereafter on the merest bowing acquaintance. And he was, thus far, +living up to his resolution; but as less than a week had gone by, +perhaps his self-gratulation was a trifle early. It may be that Cowan +also was forced to confer with the Dean at about that time, for he too +showed an unusual application to text-books, and as a result he and Paul +saw each other less frequently. + +On November 6th, one week after Neil's accident and just two weeks prior +to the Robinson game, Erskine played Arrowden, and defeated her 11-0. +Neil, however, did not witness that contest, for, at the invitation of +and in company with Devoe, he journeyed to Collegetown and watched +Robinson play Artmouth. Devoe had rather a bad knee, and was nursing it +against the game with Yale at New Haven the following Saturday. Two of +the coaches were also of the party, and all were eager to get an inkling +of the plays that Robinson was going to spring on Erskine. But Robinson +was reticent. Perhaps her coaches discovered the presence of the Erskine +emissaries. However that may have been, her team used ordinary +formations instead of tackle-back, and displayed none of the tricks +which rumor credited her with having up her sleeve. But the Erskine +party saw enough, nevertheless, to persuade them one and all that the +Purple need only expect defeat, unless some way of breaking up the +tackle-back play was speedily discovered. Robinson's line was heavy, and +composed almost altogether of last year material. Artmouth found it +well-nigh impregnable, and Artmouth's backs were reckoned good men. + +"If we had three more men in our line as heavy and steady as Browning, +Cowan, and Carey," said Devoe, "we might hope to get our backs through; +but, as it is, they'll get the jump on us, I fear, and tear up our +offense before it gets agoing." + +"The only course," answered one of the coaches, "is to get to work and +put starch into the line as well as we can, and to perfect the backs at +kicking and running. Luckily that close-formation has the merit of +concealing the point of attack until it's under way, and it's just +possible that we'll manage to fool them." + +And so Jones and Mills went to work with renewed vigor the next day. But +the second team, playing tackle-back after the style of Robinson's +warriors, was too much for any defense that the varsity could put up, +and got its distance time after time. The coaches evolved and tried +several plays designed to stop it, but none proved really successful. + +Neil returned to practise that afternoon, his right shoulder protected +by a wonderful leather contrivance which was the cause of much +good-natured fun. He didn't get near the line-up, however, but was +allowed to take part in signal practise, and was then set to kicking +goals from placement. If the reader will button his right arm inside his +coat and try to kick a ball with accuracy he will gain some slight idea +of the difficulty which embarrassed Neil. When work was over he felt as +though he had been trying, he declared, to kick left-handed. But he met +with enough success to demonstrate that, given opportunity for practise, +one may eventually learn to kick goals minus anything except feet. + +That happened to be one of Paul's "off days," and the way he played +exasperated the coaches and alarmed him. He could not hide from himself +the evident fact that Gillam was outplaying him five days a week. With +the return of Neil, Paul expected to be ousted from the position of left +half, and the question that worried him was whether he would in turn +displace Gillam or be sent back to the second eleven. He was safe, +however, for several days more, for Simson still laughed at Neil's +demand to be put into the line-up, and he was determined that before the +Yale game he would prove himself superior to Gillam. + +The following morning, Friday, Mills was seated at the desk in his room +making out a list of players who were to participate in the Robinson +game. According to the agreement between the rival colleges such lists +were required to be exchanged not later than two weeks prior to the +contest. The players had been decided upon the evening before by all the +coaches in assembly, and his task this morning was merely to recopy the +list before him. He had almost completed the work when he heard strange +sounds outside his door. Then followed a knock, and, in obedience to his +request, Sydney Burr pushed open the door and swung himself in on +his crutches. + +The boy's face was alight with eagerness, and his eyes sparkled with +excitement; there was even a dash of color in his usually pale cheeks. +Mills jumped up and wheeled forward an easy-chair. But Sydney paid no +heed to it. + +"Mr. Mills," he cried exultantly, "I think I've got it!" + +"Got what?" asked the coach. + +"The play we want," answered Sydney, "the play that'll stop Robinson!" + + + +CHAPTER XV + +AND TELLS OF A DREAM + +Mills's face lighted up, and he stretched forth an eager hand. + +"Good for you, Burr! Let's see it. Hold on, though; sit down here first +and give me those sticks. There we are. Now fire ahead." + +"If you don't mind, I'd like to tell you all about it first, before I +show you the diagram," said Sydney, his eyes dancing. + +"All right; let's hear it," replied the head coach smiling. + +"Well," began Sydney, "it's been a puzzler. After I'd seen the second +playing tackle-back I about gave up hopes of ever finding a--an +antidote." + +"'Antidote's' good," commented Mills laughingly. + +"I tried all sorts of notions," continued Sydney, "and spoiled whole +reams of paper drawing diagrams. But it was all nonsense. I had the +right idea, though, all the time; I realized that if that tandem was +going to be stopped it would have to be stopped before it hit +our line." + +Mills nodded. + +"I had the idea, as I say, but I couldn't apply it. And that's the way +things stood last night when I went to bed. I had sat up until after +eleven and had used up all the paper I had, and so when I got into bed I +saw diagrams all over the place and had an awful time to get to sleep. +But at last I did. And then I dreamed. + +"And in the dream I was playing football. That's the first time I ever +played it, and I guess it'll be the last. I was all done up in sweaters +and things until I couldn't do much more than move my arms and head. It +seemed that we were in 9 Grace Hall, only there was grass instead of +floor, and it was all marked out like a gridiron. And everybody was +there, I guess; the President and the Dean, and you and Mr. Jones, and +Mr. Preston and--and my mother. It was awfully funny about my mother. +She kept sewing more sweaters on to me all the time, because, as she +said, the more I had on the less likely I was to get hurt. And Devoe was +there, and he was saying that it wasn't fair; that the football rules +distinctly said that players should wear only one sweater. But nobody +paid any attention to him. And after a bit, when I was so covered with +sweaters that I was round, like a big ball, the Dean whistled and we got +into line--that is," said Sydney doubtfully, "it was sort of like a +line. There was the President and Neil Fletcher and I on one side, and +all the others, at least thirty of them, on the other. It didn't seem +quite fair, but I didn't like to object for fear they'd say I +was afraid." + +"Well, you _did_ have the nightmare," said Mills. "Then what?" + +"The other side got into a bunch, and I knew they were playing +tackle-back, although of course they weren't really; they just all stood +together. And I didn't see any ball, either. Then some one yelled 'Smash +'em up!' and they started for us. At that Neil--at least I think it was +Neil--and Prexy--I mean the President--took hold of me, lifted me up +like a bag of potatoes, and hurled me right at the other crowd. I went +flying through the air, turning round and round and round, till I +thought I'd never stop. Then there was an awful bump, I yelled 'Down!' +at the top of my lungs--and woke up. I was on the floor." + +Mills laughed, and Sydney took breath. + +"At first I didn't know what had happened. Then I remembered the dream, +and all on a sudden, like a flash of lightning, it occurred to me that +_that_ was the way to stop tackle-back!" + +"That? What?" asked Mills, looking puzzled. + +"Why, the bag of potatoes act," laughed Sydney. "I jumped up, lighted +the gas, got pencil and paper and went back to bed and worked it out. +And here it is." + +He drew a carefully folded slip of paper from his pocket and handed it +across to Mills. The diagram, just as the head coach received it, is +reproduced here. + +[Illustration] + +Mills studied it for a minute in silence; once he grunted; once he +looked wonderingly up at Sydney. In the end he laid it beside him on +the desk. + +"I think you've got it, Burr," he said quietly, "I think you've got it, +my boy. If this works out the way it should, your nightmare will be the +luckiest thing that's happened at Erskine for several years. Draw your +chair up here--I beg your pardon; I forgot. I'll do the moving myself." +He placed his own chair beside Sydney's and handed the diagram to +him. "Now just go over this, will you; tell me just what your idea is." + +[Illustration] + +Sydney, still excited over the night's happenings, drew a ready pencil +from his pocket, and began rather breathlessly: + +"I've placed the Robinson players in the positions that our second team +occupies for the tackle-tandem. Full-back, left tackle, and right half, +one behind the other, back of their guard-tackle hole. Now, as the ball +goes into play their tandem starts. Quarter passes the ball to tackle, +or maybe right half, and they plunge through our line. That's what they +would do if we couldn't stop them, isn't it?" + +"They would, indeed," answered Mills grimly. "About ten yards through +our line!" + +"Well, now we place our left half in our line between our guard and +tackle, and put our full-back behind him, making a tandem of our own. +Quarter stands almost back of guard, and the other half over here. When +the ball is put in play our tandem starts at a jump and hits the +opposing tandem just at the moment their quarter passes the ball to +their runner. In other words, we get through on to them before they can +get under way. Our quarter and right half follow up, and, unless I'm +away off on my calculations, that tackle-tandem is going to stop on its +own side of the line." + +Sydney paused and awaited Mills's opinion. The latter was silent a +moment. Then-- + +"Of course," he said, "you've thought of what's going to happen to that +left half?" + +"Yes," answered Sydney, "I have. He's going to get most horribly banged +up. But he's going to stop the play." + +"Yes, I think he is--if he lives," said Mills with a grim smile. "The +only objection that occurs to me this moment is this: Have we the right +to place any player in a position like this where the punishment is +certain to be terrific, if not absolutely dangerous?" + +"I've thought of that, too," answered Sydney readily. "And I don't +believe we--er--you have." + +"Well, then I think our play's dished at the start." + +"Why, not a bit, sir. Call the players up, explain the thing to them, +and tell them you want a man for that position." + +"Ah, ask for volunteers, eh?" + +"Yes, sir. And you'll have just as many, I'll bet, as there are men!" + +Mills smiled. + +"Well, it's a desperate remedy, but I believe it's the only one, and +we'll see what can be done. By the way, I observe that you've taken left +half for the victim?" + +"Yes, sir; that's Neil Fletcher. He's the fellow for it, I think." + +"But I thought he was a friend of yours," laughed Mills. + +"So he is; that's why I want him to get it; he won't ask anything +better. And he's got the weight and the speed. The fellow that +undertakes it has got to be mighty quick, and he's got to have weight +and plenty of grit. And that's Neil." + +"Yes, I think so too. But I don't want him to get used up and not be +able to kick, for we'll need a field-goal before the game is over, if +I'm not greatly mistaken. However, we can find a man for that place, +I've no doubt. For that matter, we must find two at least, for one will +never last the game through." + +"I suppose not. I--I wish I had a chance at it," said Sydney longingly. + +"I wish you had," said Mills. "I think you'd stand all the punishment +Robinson would give you. But don't feel badly that you can't play; as +long as you can teach the rest of us the game you've got honor enough." + +Sydney flushed with pleasure, and Mills took up the diagram again. + +"Guard and tackle will have their work cut out for them," he said. "And +I'm not sure that left end can't be brought into it, too. There's one +good feature about Robinson's formation, and that is we can imagine +where it's coming as long as it's a tandem. If we stop them they'll have +to try the ends, and I don't think they'll make much there. Well, we'll +give this a try to-morrow, and see how it works. By the way, Burr," he +went on, "you can get about pretty well on your crutches, can't you?" + +"Yes," Sydney answered. + +"Good. Then what's to prevent you from coming out to the field in the +afternoons and giving us a hand with this? Do you think you could afford +the time?" + +Sydney's eyes dropped; he didn't want Mills to see how near the tears +were to his eyes. + +"I can afford the time all right," he answered in a voice that, despite +his efforts, was not quite steady, "if you really think I can be of +any use." + +Perhaps Mills guessed the other's pleasure, for he smiled gently as he +answered: + +"I don't think; I'm certain. You know this play better than I do; it's +yours; you know how you want it to go. You come out and look after the +play; we'll attend to the players. And then, if we find a weak place in +it, we can all get together and remedy it. But you oughtn't to try and +wheel yourself out there and back every day. You tell me what time you +can be ready each afternoon and I'll see that there's a buggy +waiting for you." + +"Oh, no, really!" Sydney protested. "I'd rather not! I can get to the +field and back easily, without getting at all tired; in fact, I need the +exercise." + +"Well, if you're certain of that," answered the coach. "But any time +you change your mind, or the weather's bad, let me know. If you can, I'd +like you to come around here again this evening. I'll have Devoe and the +coaches here, and we'll talk this--this 'antidote' over again. +Well, good-by." + +Sydney swung himself to the door, followed by Mills, and got into his +tricycle. + +"About eight this evening, if you can make it, Burr," said Mills. +"Good-by." He stood at the door and watched the other as he trundled +slowly down the street. + +"Poor chap!" he muttered. And then: "Still, I'm not so sure that he's an +object of pity. If he hasn't any legs worth mentioning, the Almighty +made it up to him by giving him a whole lot of brains. If he can't get +about like the rest of us he's a great deal more contented, I believe, +and if he can't play football he can show others how to. And," he added, +as he returned to his desk, "unless I'm mistaken, he's done it to-day. +Now to mail this list and then for the 'antidote'!" + +That night in Mills's room the assembled coaches and captain talked over +Sydney's play, discussed it from start to finish, objected, explained, +argued, tore it to pieces and put it together again, and in the end +indorsed it. And Sydney, silent save when called on for an explanation +of some feature of his discovery, sat with his crutches beside his chair +and listened to many complimentary remarks; and at ten o'clock went back +to Walton and bed, only to lie awake until long after the town-clock +had struck midnight, excited and happy. + +Had you been at Erskine at any time during the following two weeks and +had managed to get behind the fence, you would have witnessed a very +busy scene. Day after day the varsity and the second fought like the +bitterest enemies; day after day the little army of coaches shouted and +fumed, pleaded and scolded; and day after day a youth on crutches +followed the struggling, panting lines, instructing and criticizing, and +happier than he had been at any time in his memory. + +For the "antidote," as they had come to call it, had been tried and had +vindicated its inventor's faith in it. Every afternoon the second team +hammered the varsity line with the tackle-tandem, and almost every time +the varsity stopped it and piled it up in confusion. The call for +volunteers for the thankless position at the front of the little tandem +of two had resulted just as Sydney had predicted. Every candidate for +varsity honors had begged for it, and some half dozen or more had been +tried. But in the end the choice had narrowed down to Neil, Paul, +Gillam, and Mason, and these it was that day after day bore the brunt of +the attack, emerging from each pile-up beaten, breathless, scarred, but +happy and triumphant. Two weeks is short time in which to teach a new +play, but Mills and the others went bravely and confidently to work, and +it seemed that success was to justify the attempt; for three days +before the Robinson game the varsity had at last attained perfection in +the new play, and the coaches dared at last to hope for victory. + +But meanwhile other things, pleasant and unpleasant, had happened, and +we must return to the day which had witnessed the inception of Sydney +Burr's "antidote." + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +ROBINSON SENDS A PROTEST + +When Sydney left Mills that morning he trundled himself along Elm Street +to Neil's lodgings in the hope of finding that youth and telling him of +his good fortune. But the windows of the first floor front study were +wide open, the curtains were hanging out over the sills, and from within +came the sound of the broom and clouds of dust. Sydney turned his +tricycle about in disappointment and retraced his path, through Elm +Lane, by the court-house with its tall white pillars and green shutters, +across Washington Street, the wheels of his vehicle rustling through the +drifts of dead leaves that lined the sidewalks, and so back to Walton. +He had a recitation at half-past ten, but there was still twenty minutes +of leisure according to the dingy-faced clock on the tower of College +Hall. So he left the tricycle by the steps, and putting his crutches +under his arms, swung himself into the building and down the corridor to +his study. The door was ajar and he thrust it open with his foot. + +"Please be careful of the paint," expostulated a voice, and Sydney +paused in surprise. + +"Well," he said; "I've just been over to your room looking for you." + +"Have you? Sorry I wasn't--Say, Syd, listen to this." Neil dragged a +pillow into a more comfortable place and sat up. He had been stretched +at full length on the big window-seat. "Here it is in a nutshell," he +continued, waving the paper he was reading. + + "'First a signal, then a thud, + And your face is in the mud. + Some one jumps upon your back, + And your ribs begin to crack. + Hear a whistle. "Down!" That's all. + 'Tis the way to play football.'" + +"Pretty good, eh? Hello, what's up? Your face looks as bright as though +you'd polished it. How dare you allow your countenance to express joy +when in another quarter of an hour I shall be struggling over my head in +the history of Rome during the second Punic War? But there, go ahead; +unbosom yourself. I can see you're bubbling over with delightful news. +Have they decided to abolish the Latin language? Or has the faculty been +kidnaped? Have they changed their minds and decided to take me with 'em +to New Haven to-morrow? Come, little Bright Eyes, out with it!" + +Sydney told his good news, not without numerous eager interruptions from +Neil, and when he had ended the latter executed what he called a "Punic +war-dance." It was rather a striking performance, quite stately and +impressive, for when one's left shoulder is made immovable by much +bandaging it is difficult, as Neil breathlessly explained, to display +_abandon_--the latter spoken through the nose to give it the correct +French pronunciation. + +"And, if you're not good to me," laughed Sydney, "I'll get back at you +in practise. And I'm to be treated with respect, also, Neil; in fact, I +believe you had better remove your cap when you see me." + +"All right, old man; cap--sweater--anything! You shall be treated with +the utmost deference. But seriously, Syd, I'm awfully glad. Glad all +around; glad you've made a hit with the play, and glad you've found +something to beat Robinson with. Now tell me again about it; where do I +come in on it?" + +And so Sydney drew a chair up to the table and drew more diagrams of the +new play, and Neil looked on with great interest until the bell struck +the half-hour, and they hurried away to recitations. + +The next day the varsity and substitutes went to New Haven. Neil wasn't +taken along, and so when the result of the game reached the +college--Yale 40, Erskine 0--he was enabled to tell Sydney that it was +insanity for Mills and Devoe to expect to do anything without his +(Neil's) services. + +"If they will leave me behind, Syd, what can they hope for save rout and +disaster? Of course, I realize that I could not have played, but my +presence on the side-line would have inspired them and have been very, +very helpful. I'm sure the score would have been quite different, Syd." + +"Yes," laughed the other; "say fifty to nothing." + +"Your levity and disrespect pains me," mourned Neil. + +But despite the overwhelming nature of the defeat, Mills and Devoe and +the associate coaches found much to encourage them. No attempt had been +made to try the new defensive play, but Erskine had managed to make her +distance several times. The line had proved steady and had borne the +severe battering of the Yale backs without serious injury. The Purple's +back-field had played well; Paul had been in his best form, Gillam had +gained ground quite often through Yale's wings, and Mason, at full-back, +had fought nobly. The ends had proved themselves quick and speedy in +getting down under punts, and several of the Blue's tries around end had +been nipped ingloriously in the bud. But, when all was said, the +principal honors of the contest had fallen to Ted Foster, Erskine's +plucky quarter, whose handling of the team had been wonderful, and +whose catching and running back of punts had more than once turned the +tide of battle. On the whole, Erskine had put up a good, fast, +well-balanced game; had displayed plenty of grit, had shown herself well +advanced in team-play, and had emerged practically unscathed from a +hard-fought contest. + +On Monday Neil went into the line-up for a few minutes, displacing Paul +at left-half, but did not form one of the heroic tandem. His shoulder +bothered him a good deal for the first minute or two, but after he had +warmed up to the work he forgot about it and banged it around so that +Simson was obliged to remonstrate and threaten to take him out. On the +second's twenty yards Neil was given a chance at a goal from placement, +and, in spite of his right shoulder, and to the delight of the coaches, +sent the leather over the bar. When he turned and trotted back up the +field he almost ran over Sydney, who was hobbling blithely about the +gridiron on his crutches. + +"Whoa!" cried Neil. "Back up! Hello, Board of Strategy; how do you find +yourself?" + +"That was fine, Neil," said Sydney. + +"What?" + +"That goal." + +"Glad you liked it. I was beastly nervous," he laughed. "Had no idea I +could do it. It's so different trying goals in a game; when you're just +off practising it doesn't seem to bother you." + +"Oh, you'll do. Gale is growling like a bear because they took him out." + +"Is he?" asked Neil. "I'm sorry. Do you know whether he stands a good +show for the game? Have you heard Mills or Devoe say anything about it?" +Sydney shook his head. + +"I'm afraid Gillam's got us both boxed," continued Neil. "As for me, I +suppose they'll let me in because I can sometimes kick a goal, but I'm +worried about Paul. If he'd only--Farewell, they are lining up again." + +"I don't believe Gale will get into the Robinson game," thought Sydney +as he took himself toward the side-line. "He seems a good player, +but--but you never can tell what he's going to do; half the time he just +sort of slops around and looks as though he was doing a favor by +playing. I can't see why Neil likes him so well; I suppose it's because +he's so different. Maybe he's a better sort when you know him +real well." + +After practise was ended and the riotous half-hour in the locker-house +was over, Neil found himself walking back to the campus with Sydney and +Paul. Paul entertained a half-contemptuous liking for Sydney. To Neil he +called him "the crip," but when in Sydney's presence was careful never +to say anything to wound the boy's feelings--an act of consideration +rather remarkable for Paul, who, while really kind at heart, was +oftentimes careless about the sensibilities of others. This afternoon +Paul was evidently downcast, too downcast to be even cross. + +"Well, I guess it's all up with me," he said as they passed through the +gate and started down Williams Street toward college. "I'm glad you're +back, chum, but I can see my finish." + +"Nonsense," said Neil, "you'll be back to-morrow. Gillam is putting up a +star game, and that's a fact; but your weight will help you, and if you +buckle down for the next few days you'll make it all right." + +But Paul refused to be comforted and remained silent and gloomy all the +way home. Knowing how Paul had set his heart upon making the varsity for +the Robinson game, Neil began to be rather worried himself. He felt, +unnecessarily of course, in a measure responsible for the crowning of +his friend's ambition. When he had prevailed on Paul to relinquish the +idea of going to Robinson, he had derided the possibility of Paul +failing to make the Erskine team; and now that possibility was rapidly +assuming the appearance of a probability. Certainly the fault was +Paul's, and not his; but the thought contained small comfort. + +Next day's practise, in preparation for Erskine's last game before the +Robinson contest, proved Paul's fears far from groundless. Gillam, Neil, +and Mason started work when the line-up was formed, and Paul looked on +heart-brokenly from the bench. It was not until Neil had failed twice +and succeeded once at field-goals, and Gillam had been well hammered by +the second's tandem plays, that Paul secured a chance. Then Neil was +taken out and his friend put in. + +Neil wrapped a frayed gray blanket about his shoulders and reflected +ruefully upon events. He knew that he had played poorly; that he had +twice tied up the play by allowing his thoughts to wander; that his +end-running had been slow, almost listless, and that his performance at +goal-kicking had been miserable. He had missed two tries from placement, +one on the twenty yards and another on the twenty-seven, and had only +succeeded at a drop-kick by the barest of margins. He couldn't even lay +the blame on his injured shoulder, for that was no longer a factor in +his playing; the bandages were off and only a leather pad remained to +remind him of the incident. No, he had simply worried his stupid head +over Paul's troubles, he told himself, and had thereby disappointed the +coaches, the captain, and himself. Simson found him presently and sent +him trotting about the field, an exercise that worked some of his gloom +off and left him in a fairly cheerful frame of mind when he ran up the +locker-house steps. + +But at dinner he found that his appetite had almost deserted him. Simson +observed him gravely, and after the meal was over questioned closely. +Neil answered rather irritably, and the trainer's uneasiness increased; +but he only said: + +"Go to bed early to-night and lay off to-morrow. You'll be better by +Monday. And you might take a walk to-morrow afternoon; go off into the +country somewhere; see if you can't find some one to go with you. How's +the shoulder? No trouble there, is there?" + +"No, there's no trouble anywhere; I just wasn't hungry." + +"Well, you do what I've told you and you'll get your appetite back, my +boy." + +Neil turned away frowning and took himself to his lodging, feeling angry +with Simson because he was going to keep him off the field, and angry +with himself because--oh, just because he was. + +But Neil was not the only person concerned with Erskine athletics who +was out of sorts that night. A general air of gloom had pervaded the +dinner-table. Mills had been even silenter than usual; the three other +coaches present had been plainly worried, and Simson, in spite of his +attempts to keep the conversation cheerful, had showed that he too was +bothered about something. A bomb-shell had landed in the Erskine camp +and had exploded in Mills's quarters. + +On the front steps Neil met Cowan. The two always nodded to each other, +but to-night Neil's curt salutation went unheeded. Cowan, with troubled +face, hurried by him and went up the street toward Mills's rooms. + +"Every one's grouchy to-night," muttered Neil. "Even Cowan looks as +though he was going to be shot." + +Meanwhile the athletic authorities of Erskine and the coaches were met +in extraordinary session. They were considering a letter which had +arrived that afternoon from Collegetown. In the letter Robinson +announced her protest of Thomas L. Cowan, right-guard on the Erskine +football team, on the score of professionalism. + +"It just means," wailed Foster, who had brought the tidings to Neil and +Paul, "that it's all over with us. I don't know what Cowan has to say, +but I'll bet a--I'll bet my new typewriter!--that Robinson's right. And +with Cowan gone from right-guard, where are we? We haven't the ghost of +a show. The only fellow they can play in his place is Witter, and he's a +pygmy. Not that Witter doesn't know the position, for he does; but he's +too light. Was there ever such luck? What good is Burr's patent, +double-action, self-inking, cylindrical, switch-back defense if we +haven't got a line that will hold together long enough for us to get off +our toes? It--it's rotten luck, that's what it is." + +And the varsity quarter-back groaned dolorously. + +"But what does Cowan say?" asked Neil. + +"Don't ask me," said Foster. "I don't know what he says, and I don't +believe it will matter. He's got professional written all over +his face." + +"But he played last year," said Paul. "Why didn't they protest him +then?" + +"I'll pass again," answered Foster. "Maybe they hadn't discovered +it--whatever it is--then; maybe--" + +"Listen!" said Neil. + +Some one stamped up the steps and entered the front door. Foster looked +questioningly at Neil. + +"Cowan?" he whispered. Neil nodded. + +Foster sprang to the study door and threw it open. The light from the +room fell on the white and angry countenance of the right-guard. + +"Cowan," said Foster, "for heaven's sake, man, tell us about it! Is it +all right?" + +But Tom Cowan only glared as he passed on up the stairs. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +A PLAN AND A CONFESSION + +Robinson's protest set forth succinctly that Cowan had, three years +previous, played left tackle on the football team of a certain +academy--whose right to the title of academy was often questioned--and +had received money for his services. Dates and other particulars were +liberally supplied, and the name and address of the captain of the team +were given. Altogether, the letter was discouragingly convincing, and +neither the coaches, the captain, nor the athletic officers really +doubted the truth of the charge. + +Professor Nast, the chairman of the Athletic Committee, blinked gravely +through his glasses and looked about the room. + +"You've sent for Mr. Cowan?" he asked. + +"Yes," Mills answered; "he ought to be here in a minute. How in the +world was he allowed to get on to the team?" + +"Well, his record was gone over, as we believed, very thoroughly year +before last," said Professor Nast; "and we found nothing against him. I +think--ah--it seems probable that he unintentionally misled us. Perhaps +he can--ah--explain." + +When, however, Cowan faced the group of grave-faced men it was soon +evident that explanations were far from his thoughts. He had heard +enough before the summons reached him to enable him to surmise what +awaited him, and when Professor Nast explained their purpose in calling +him before them, Cowan only displayed what purported to be honest +indignation. He stormed violently against the Robinson authorities and +defied them to prove their charge. Mills listened a while impatiently +and then interrupted him abruptly. + +"Do you deny the charge, Cowan, or don't you?" he asked. + +"I refuse to reply to it," answered Cowan angrily. "Let them think what +they want to; I'm not responsible to them. It's all revenge, nothing +else. They tried to get me to go to them last September; offered me free +coaching, and guaranteed me a position on the team. I refused. And +here's the result." + +Professor Nast brightened and a few of those present looked relieved. +But Mills refused to be touched by Cowan's righteousness, and asked +brusquely: + +"Never mind what their motive is, Cowan. What we want to know is this: +Did you or did you not accept money for playing left tackle on that +team? Let us have an answer to that, please." + +"It's absurd," said Cowan hotly. "Why, I only played three games--" + +"Yes or no, please," said Mills. + +For an instant Cowan's gaze faltered. He glanced swiftly about the room +and read only doubt or antagonism in the faces there. He shrugged his +broad shoulders and replied sneeringly: + +"What's the good? You're all down on me now; you wouldn't believe me if +I told you." + +"We're not all down on you," answered Mills. Professor Nast interrupted. + +"One moment, Mr. Mills. I don't think Mr. Cowan understands the--ah--the +position we are in. Unless you can show to our satisfaction that the +charge is untrue, Mr. Cowan, we shall be obliged, under the terms of our +agreement with Robinson, to consider you ineligible. In that case, you +could not, of course, play against Robinson; in fact, you would not be +admitted to any branch of university athletics. Now, don't you think +that the best course for you to follow is to make a straightforward +explanation of your connection with the academy in question? We are not +here to judge the--ah--ethics of your course; only to decide as to +whether or no you are eligible to represent the college in athletics." + +Cowan arose from his seat and with trembling fingers buttoned his +overcoat. His brow was black, but when he spoke, facing the head coach +and heedless of the rest, he appeared quite cool. + +"Ever since practise began," he said, "you have been down on me and have +done everything you could to get rid of me. No matter what I did, it +wasn't right. Whether I'm eligible or ineligible, I'm done with you now. +You may fill my place--if you can; I'm out of it. You'll probably be +beaten; but that's your affair. If you are, I sha'n't weep over it." + +He walked to the door and opened it. + +"It's understood, I guess, that I've resigned from the team?" he asked, +facing Mills once more. + +"Quite," said the latter dryly. + +"All right. And now I don't mind telling you that I did get paid for +playing with that team. I played three games and took money every time. +It isn't a crime and I'm not ashamed of it, although to hear you talk +you'd think I'd committed murder. Good-night, gentlemen." + +He passed out. Professor Nast blinked nervously. + +"Dear me," he murmured, "dear me, how unpleasant!" + +Mills smiled grimly, and, rising, stretched his limbs. + +"I think what we have left to do won't take very long. I hardly think +that it is necessary for me to reply to the accusations brought by the +gentleman who has just left us." + +"No, let's hear no more of it," said Preston. "I propose that we reply +to Robinson to-night and have an end of the business. To-morrow we'll +have plenty to think of without this," he added grimly. + +The reply was written and forwarded the next day to Robinson, and the +following announcement was given out at Erskine: + + The Athletic Committee has decided that Cowan is not eligible + to represent the college in the football game with Robinson, + and he has been withdrawn. A protest was received from the + Robinson athletic authorities yesterday afternoon, and an + investigation was at once made with the result stated. The + loss of Cowan will greatly weaken the team, it is feared, but + that fact has not been allowed to influence the committee. + The decision is heartily concurred in by the coaches, the + captain, and all officials, and, being in line with Erskine's + policy of purity in athletics, should have the instant + indorsement of the student body. + + H.W. NAST, _Chairman_. + +The announcement, as was natural, brought consternation, and for several +days the football situation was steeped in gloom. Witter and Hurst were +seized upon by the coaches and drilled in the tactics of right-guard. As +Foster had said, Witter, while he was a good player, was light for the +position. Hurst, against whom no objection could be brought on the +ground of weight, lacked experience. In the end Witter proved first +choice, and Hurst was comforted with the knowledge that he was +practically certain to get into the game before the whistle sounded for +the last time. + +Meanwhile Artmouth came and saw and conquered to the tune of 6-0, +profiting by the news of Cowan's withdrawal and piling their backs +through Witter, Hurst, and Brown, all of whom took turns at right-guard. +The game was not encouraging from the Erskine point of view, and the +gloom deepened. Foster declared that it was so thick during the last +half of the contest that he couldn't see the backs. Neil saw the game +from the bench, and Paul, once more at left-half, played an excellent +game; but, try as he might, could not outdo Gillam. When it was over +Neil declared the honors even, but Paul took a less optimistic view and +would not be comforted. + +All the evening, save for a short period when he went upstairs to +sympathize with Cowan, he bewailed his fate into Neil's ears. The latter +tried his best to comfort him, and predicted that on Monday Paul would +find himself in Gillam's place. But he scarcely believed it himself, and +so his prophecies were not convincing. + +"What's the good of being decent?" asked Paul dolefully. "I wish I'd +gone to Robinson." + +"No, you don't," said Neil. "You'd rather sit on the side-line at +Erskine than play with a lot of hired sluggers." + +"Much you know about it," Paul growled. "If I don't get into the +Robinson game I'll--I'll leave college." + +"But what good would that do?" asked Neil. + +"I'd go somewhere where I'd stand a show. I'd go to Robinson or one of +the smaller places." + +"I don't think you'd do anything as idiotic as that," answered Neil. +"It'll be hard luck if you miss the big game, but you've got three more +years yet. What's one? You're certain to stand the best kind of a show +next year." + +"I don't see how. Gillam doesn't graduate until 1903." + +"But you can beat him out for the place next year. All you need is more +experience. Gillam's been at it two years here. Besides, it would be +silly to leave a good college just because you couldn't play on the +football team. Don't be like Cowan and think football's the only thing a +chap comes here for." + +"They've used him pretty shabbily," said Paul. + +"That's what Cowan thinks. I don't see how they could do anything else." + +"He's awfully cut up. I'm downright sorry for him. He says he's going to +pack up and leave." + +"And he's been trying to make you do the same, eh?" asked Neil. "Well, +you tell him I'm very well satisfied with Erskine and haven't the least +desire to change." + +"You?" asked Paul. + +"Certainly. We hang together, don't we?" + +Paul grinned. + +"You're a good chap, chum," he said gratefully. "But--" relapsing again +into gloom--"you're not losing your place on the team, and you don't +know how it feels. When a fellow's set his heart on it--" + +"I think I do know," answered Neil. "I know how I felt when my shoulder +went wrong and I thought I was off for good and all. I didn't like it. +But cheer up, Paul, and give 'em fits Monday. Slam 'round, let yourself +loose; show 'em what you can do. Down with Gillam!" + +"Oh, I dare say," muttered Paul dejectedly. + +Neil laid awake a long time that night; he was full of sympathy for his +room-mate. With him friendship meant more than it does to the average +boy of nineteen, and he was ready and eager to do anything in his power +that would insure Paul's getting into the Robinson game. The trouble was +that he could think of nothing, although he lay staring into the +darkness, thinking and thinking, until Paul had been snoring comfortably +across the room for more than an hour. + +The next afternoon, Sunday, Neil, obeying the trainer's instructions, +went for a walk. Paul begged off from accompanying him, and Neil sought +Sydney. That youth was delighted to go, and so, Neil alternately pushing +the tricycle and walking beside it while Sydney propelled it himself, +the two followed the river for several miles into the country. The +afternoon was cold but bright, and being outdoors was a pleasure to any +healthy person. Neil forgot some of his worries and remembered that, +after all, he was still a boy; that football is not the chief thing in +college life, and that ten years hence it would matter little to him +whether he played for his university against her rival or looked on from +the bench. And it was that thought that suggested to him a means of +sparing Paul the bitter disappointment that he dreaded. + +The plan seemed both simple and feasible, and he wondered why he had not +thought of it before. To be sure, it involved the sacrificing of an +ambition of his own; but to-day, out here among the pines and beeches, +with the clear blue sky overhead and the eager breeze bringing the color +to his cheeks, the sacrifice seemed paltry and scarcely a sacrifice at +all. He smiled to himself, glad to have found the solution of Paul's +trouble, which was also his own; but suddenly it occurred to him that +perhaps he had no right to do what he contemplated. The ethics were +puzzling, and presently he turned to Sydney, who had been silently and +contentedly wheeling himself along across the road, and sought +his counsel. + +"Look here, Syd, you're a level-headed sort of chump. Give me your +valuable opinion on this, will you? Now--it's a supposititious case, you +know--here are two fellows, A and B, each trying for the +same--er--prize. Now, supposing A has just about reached it and B has +fallen behind; and supposing I--" + +"Eh?" asked Sydney. + +"Yes, I meant A. Supposing A knows that B is just as deserving of the +prize as he is, and that--that he'll make equally as good use of it. Do +you follow, Syd?" + +"Y--yes, I think so," answered the other doubtfully. + +"Well, now, the question I want your opinion on is this: Wouldn't it be +perfectly fair for A to--well, slip a cog or two, you know--" + +"Slip a cog?" queried Sydney, puzzled. + +"Yes; that is," explained Neil, "play off a bit, but not enough for any +of the fellows to suspect, and so let B get the plum?" + +"Well," answered Sydney, after a moment's consideration, "it sounds fair +enough--" + +"That's what I think," said Neil eagerly. + +"But maybe A and B are not the only ones interested. How about the +conditions of the contest? Don't they require that each man shall do his +best? Isn't it intended that the prize shall go to the one who really +is the best?" + +"Oh, well, in a manner, maybe," answered Neil. He was silent a moment. +The ethics was more puzzling than ever. Then: "Of course, it's only a +supposititious case, you understand, Syd," he assured him earnestly. + +"Oh, of course," answered the other readily. "Hadn't we better turn +here?" + +The journey back was rather silent. Neil was struggling with his +problem, and Sydney, too, seemed to have something on his mind. When the +town came once more into view around a bend in the road Sydney +interrupted Neil's thoughts. + +"Say, Neil, I've got a--a confession to make." His cheeks were very red +and he looked extremely embarrassed. Neil viewed him in surprise. + +"A confession? You haven't murdered the Dean, have you?" + +"No. It--it's something rather different. I don't believe that it will +make any difference in our--our friendship, but--it might." + +"It won't," said Neil. "Now, fire ahead." + +"Well, you recollect the day you found me on the way from the field and +pushed me back to college?" + +"Of course. Your old ice-wagon had broken down and I--" + +"That's it," interrupted Sydney, with a little embarrassed laugh. "It +hadn't." + +"What hadn't? Hadn't what?" + +"The machine; it hadn't broken down." + +"But I saw it," exclaimed Neil. "What do you mean, Syd?" + +"I mean that it hadn't really broken down, Neil. I--the truth is I had +pried one of the links up with a screw-driver." + +Neil stared in a puzzled way. + +"But--what for?" he asked. + +"Don't you understand?" asked Sydney, shame-faced. "Because I wanted to +know you, and I thought if you found me there with my machine busted +you'd try to fix it; and I'd make your acquaintance. It--it was awfully +dishonest, I know," muttered Sydney at the last. + +Neil stared for a moment in surprise. Then he clapped the other on the +shoulder and laughed uproariously. + +"Oh, to think of guileless little Syd being so foxy!" he cried. "I +wouldn't have believed it if any one else had told me, Syd." + +"Well," said Sydney, very red in the face, but joining in the laughter, +"you don't mind?" + +"Mind?" echoed Neil, becoming serious again, "why of course I don't. +What is there to mind, Syd? I'm glad you did it, awfully glad." He laid +his arm over the shoulders of the lad on the seat. "Here, let me push a +while. Queer you should have cared that much about knowing me; but--but +I'm glad." Suddenly his laughter returned. + +"No wonder that old fossil in the village thought it was a queer sort of +a break," he shouted. "He knew what he was talking about after all when +he suggested cold-chisels, didn't he?" + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +NEIL IS TAKEN OUT + +The Tuesday before the final contest dawned raw and wet. The elms in the +yard _drip-dripped_ from every leafless twig and a fine mist covered +everything with tiny beads of moisture. The road to the field, trampled +by many feet, was soft and slippery. Sydney, almost hidden beneath +rain-coat and oil-skin hat, found traveling hard work. Ahead of him +marched five hundred students, marshaled by classes, a little army of +bobbing heads and flapping mackintoshes, alternately cheering and +singing. Dana, the senior-class president, strode at the head of the +line and issued his commands through a big purple megaphone. + +Erskine was marching out to the field to cheer the eleven and to +practise the songs that were to be chanted defiantly at the game. Sydney +had started with his class, but had soon been left behind, the rubber +tires of the machine slipping badly in the mud. Presently the head of +the procession, but dimly visible to him through the mist, turned in at +the gate, the monster flag of royal purple, with its big white E, +drooping wet and forlorn on its staff. They were cheering again now, and +Sydney whispered an accompaniment behind the collar of his coat: + +"Erskine! Erskine! Erskine! Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah! +Erskine! Erskine! Erskine!" + +Suddenly footsteps sounded behind him and the tricycle went forward +apparently of its own volition. Sydney turned quickly and saw Mills's +blue eyes twinkling down at him. + +"Did I surprise you?" laughed the coach. + +"Yes, I thought my wheel had suddenly turned into an automobile." + +"Hard work for you, I'm afraid. You should have let me send a trap for +you," said Mills. "Never mind those handles. Put your hands in your +pockets and I'll get you there in no time. What a beast of a day, +isn't it?" + +"Y--yes," answered Sydney, "I suppose it is. But I rather like it." + +"Like it? Great Scott! Why?" + +"Well, the mist feels good on your face, don't you think so? And the +trees down there along the railroad look so gray and soft. I don't know, +but there's something about this sort of a day that makes me feel good." + +"Well, every one to his taste," Mills replied. "By the way, here's +something I cut out of the Robinson Argus; thought you'd like to see +it." He drew a clipping from a pocketbook and gave it to Sydney, who, +shielding it from the wet, read as follows: + + Erskine, we hear, is crowing over a wonderful new play which + she thinks she has invented, and with which she expects to + get even for what happened last year. We have not seen the + new marvel, of course, but we understand that it is called a + "close formation." It is safe to say that it is an old play + revamped by Erskine's head coach, Mills. Last year Mills + discovered a form of guards-back which was heralded to the + four corners of the earth as the greatest play ever seen. + What happened to it is still within memory. Consequently we + are not greatly alarmed over the latest production of his + fertile brain. Robinson can, we think, find a means of + solving any puzzle that Erskine can put together. + +"They're rather hard on you," laughed Sydney as he returned the +clipping. + +"I can stand it. I'm glad they haven't discovered that we are busy with +a defense for their tackle-tandem. If we can keep that a secret for a +few days longer I shall be satisfied." + +"I do hope it will come up to expectations," said Sydney doubtfully. +"Now that the final test is drawing near I'm beginning to fear that +maybe we--maybe we're too hopeful." + +"I know," answered Mills. "It's always that way. When I first began +coaching I used to get into a regular blue funk every year just before +the big game; used to think that everything was going wrong, and was +firmly convinced until the whistle sounded that we were going to be torn +to pieces and scattered to the winds. It's just nerves; you get used to +it after a while. As for the new defense for tackle-tandem, it's all +right. Maybe it won't stop Robinson altogether, but it's the best thing +that a light team can put up against a heavy one playing Robinson's +game; and I think that it's going to surprise her and worry her quite a +lot. Whether it will keep her from scoring on the tackle play remains to +be seen. That's a good deal to hope for. If we'd been able to try the +play in a game with another college we would know more about what we can +do with it. As it is, we only know that it will stop the second and that +theoretically it is all right. We'll be wiser on the 23d. + +"Frankly, though, Burr," he continued, "as a play I don't like it. That +is, I consider it too hard on the men; there's too much brute force and +not enough science and skill about it; in fact, it isn't football. But +as long as guards-back and tackle-back formations are allowed it's got +to be played. It was a mistake in ever allowing more than four men +behind the line. The natural formation of a football team consists of +seven players in the line, and when you begin to take one or two of +those players back you're increasing the element of physical force and +lessening the element of science. More than that, you're playing into +the hands of the anti-football people, and giving them further grounds +for their charge of brutality. + +"Football's the noblest game that's played, but it's got to be played +right. We did away with the old mass-play evil and then promptly +invented the guards-back and the tackle-back. Before long we'll see our +mistake and do away with those too; revise the rules so that the +rush-line players can not be drawn back. Then we'll have football as it +was meant to be played; and we'll have a more skilful game and one of +more interest both to the players and spectators." Mills paused and +then asked: + +"By the way, do you see much of Fletcher?" + +"Yes, quite a bit," answered Sydney. "We were together for two or three +hours yesterday afternoon." + +"Indeed? And did you notice whether he appeared in good spirits? See any +signs of worry?" + +"No, not that I recall. I thought he appeared to be feeling very +cheerful. I know we laughed a good deal over--over something." + +"That's all right, then," answered the coach as they turned in through +the gate and approached the locker-house. "I had begun to think that +perhaps he had something on his mind that troubled him. He seemed a bit +listless yesterday at practise. How about his studies? All right +there, is he?" + +"Oh, yes. Fletcher gets on finely. He was saying only a day or two ago +that he was surprised to find them going so easily." + +"Well, don't mention our talk to him, please; he might start to +worrying, and that's what we don't want, you know. Perhaps he'll be in +better shape to-day. We'll try him in the 'antidote.'" + +But contrary to the hopes of the head coach, Neil showed no improvement. +His playing was slow, and he seemed to go at things in a half-hearted +way far removed from his usual dash and vim. Even the signals appeared +to puzzle him at times, and more than once Foster turned upon him +in surprise. + +"Say, what the dickens is the matter with you, Neil?" he whispered once. +Neil showed surprise. + +"Why, nothing; I'm all right." + +"Well, I'm glad you told me," grumbled the quarter-back, "for I'd never +have guessed it, my boy." + +Before the end of the ten minutes of open practise was over Neil had +managed to make so many blunders that even the fellows on the seats +noticed and remarked upon it. Later, when the singing and cheering were +over and the gates were closed behind the last marching freshman, Neil +found himself in hot water. The coaches descended upon him in a small +army, and he stood bewildered while they accused him of every sin in the +football decalogue. Devoe took a hand, too, and threatened to put him +off if he didn't wake up. + +"Play or get off the field," he said. "And, hang it all, man, look +intelligent, as though you liked the game!" + +Neil strove to look intelligent by banishing the expression of +bewilderment from his face, and stood patiently by until the last coach +had hurled the last bolt at his defenseless head--defenseless, that is, +save for the head harness that was dripping rain-drops down his neck. +Then he trotted off to the line-up with a queer, half-painful grin +on his face. + +"I guess it's settled for me," he said to, himself, as he rubbed his +cold, wet hands together. "Evidently I sha'n't have to play off to give +Paul his place; I've done it already. I suppose I've been bothering my +head about it until I've forgotten what I've been doing. I wish +though--" he sighed--"I wish it hadn't been necessary to disgust Mills +and Bob Devoe and all the others who have been so decent and have hoped +so much of me. But it's settled now. Whether it's right or wrong, I'm +going to play like a fool until they get tired of jumping on me and just +yank me out in sheer disgust. + +"Simson's got his eagle eye on me, the old ferret! And he will have me +on the hospital list to-morrow, I'll bet a dollar. He'll say I've gone +'fine' and tell me to get plenty of sleep and stay outdoors. And the +doctor will give me a lot of nasty medicine. Well, it's all in the +bargain. I'd like to have played in Saturday's game, though; but Paul +has set his heart on it, and if he doesn't make the team he'll have +seven fits. It means more to him than it does to me, and next fall will +soon be here. I can wait." + +"_Fletcher! Wake up, will you_?" + +Foster was glaring at him angrily. The blood rushed into Neil's face and +he leaped to his position. Even Ted Foster's patience had given out, +Neil told himself; and he, like all the rest, would have only contempt +for him to-morrow. The ball was wet and slimy and easily fumbled. Neil +lost it the first time it came into his hands. + +"Who dropped that ball?" thundered Mills, striding into the back-field, +pushing players left and right. + +"I did," answered Neil, striving to meet the coach's flashing eyes and +failing miserably. + +"You did? Well, do it just once more, Fletcher, and you'll go off! And +you'll find it hard work getting back again, too. Bear that in mind, +please." He turned to the others. "Now get together here! Put some life +into things! Stop that plunging right here! If the second gets another +yard you'll hear from me!" + +"First down; two yards to gain!" called Jones, who was acting as +referee. + +The second came at them again, tackle-back, desperately, fighting hard. +But the varsity held, and on the next down held again. + +"That's better," cried Mills. + +"Use your weight, Baker!" shrieked one of the second's coaches, slapping +the second's left-guard fiercely on the back to lend vehemence to +the command. + +"Center, your man got you that time," cried another. "Into him now! +Throw him back! Get through!" + +Ten coaches were raving and shrieking at once. + +"Signal!" cried the second's quarter, Reardon. The babel was hushed, +save for the voice of Mills crying: + +"Steady! Steady! Hold them, varsity!" + +"_44--64--73--81!_" came Reardon's muffled voice. Then the second's +backs plunged forward. Neil and Gillam met them with a crash; cries and +confusion reigned; the lines shoved and heaved; the backs hurled +themselves against the swaying group; a smothered voice gasped "Down!" +the whistle shrilled. + +"Varsity's ball!" said the referee. "First down!" + +The coaches began their tirades anew. Mills spoke to Foster aside. Then +the lines again faced each other. Foster glanced back toward Neil. + +"_14--12--34--9!_" he sang. It was a kick from close formation. Neil +changed places with full-back. He had forgotten for the moment the rôle +he had set himself to play, and only thought of the ball that was flying +toward him from center. He would do his best. The pigskin settled into +his hands and he dropped it quickly, kicking it fairly on the rebound. +But the second was through, and the ball banged against an upstretched +hand and was lost amidst a struggling group of players. In a moment it +came to light tightly clutched by Brown of the second eleven. + +"I don't have to make believe," groaned Neil. "Fate's playing squarely +into my hands." + +Five minutes later the leather went to him for a run outside of left +tackle. He never knew whether he tried to do it or really stumbled, but +he fell before the line was reached, and in a twinkling three of the +second eleven were pushing his face into the muddy turf. The play had +lost the varsity four yards. Mills glared at Neil, but said not a word. +Neil smiled weakly as he went back to his place. + +"I needn't try any more," he thought wearily. "He's made up his mind to +put me off." + +A minute later the half ended. When the next one began Paul Gale went in +at left half-back on the varsity. And Neil, trotting to the +locker-house, told himself that he was glad, awfully glad, and wished +the tears wouldn't come into his eyes. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +ON THE EVE OF BATTLE + +Neil was duly pronounced "fine" by the trainer, dosed by the doctor, and +disregarded by the coaches. Mills, having finally concluded that he was +too risky a person for the line-up on Saturday, figuratively labeled him +"declined" and passed him over to Tassel, head coach of the second +eleven. Tassel displayed no enthusiasm, for a good player gone "fine" is +at best a poor acquisition, and of far less practical value than a poor +player in good condition. It made little difference to Neil what team he +belonged to, for he was prohibited from playing on Wednesday, and on +Thursday the last practise took place and he was in the line-up but five +minutes. On that day the students again marched to the field and +practised their songs and cheers. Despite the loss of Cowan and the +lessening thereby of Erskine's chance of success, enthusiasm reigned +high. Perhaps their own cheers raised their spirit, for two days before +the game the college was animated by a totally unwarranted degree of +hopefulness that amounted almost to confidence. The coaches, however, +remained carefully pessimistic and took pains to see that the players +did not share the general hopefulness. + +"We may win," said Mills to them after the last practise, "but don't +think for a moment that it's going to be easy. If we do come out on top +it will be because every one of you has played as he never dreamed he +could play. You've got to play your own positions perfectly and then +help to play each other's. Remember what I've said about team-play. +Don't think that your work is done when you've put your man out; that's +the time for you to turn around and help your neighbor. It's just that +eagerness to aid the next man, that stand-and-fall-together spirit, that +makes the ideal team. I don't want to see any man on Saturday standing +around with his hands at his sides; as long as the ball's in play +there's work for every one. Don't cry 'Down' until you can't run, crawl, +wriggle, roll, or be pulled another inch. And if you're helping the +runner don't stop pulling or shoving until there isn't another notch to +be gained. Never mind how many tacklers there are; the ball's in play +until the whistle sounds. And, one thing more, remember that you're not +going to do your best because I tell you to, or because if you don't the +coaches will give you a wigging, or because a lot of your fellows are +looking on. You're going to fight your hardest, fight until the last +whistle blows, fight long after you can't fight any more, because +you're wearing the Purple of old Erskine and can't do anything else +but fight!" + +The cheer that followed was good to hear. There was not a fellow there +that didn't feel, at that moment, more than a match for any two men +Robinson could set up against him. And many a hand clenched +involuntarily, and many a player registered his silent vow to fight, as +Mills had said, long after he couldn't fight any more, and, if it +depended on him, win the game for old Erskine. + +On Friday afternoon the men were assembled in the gymnasium and were +drilled in signals and put through a hard examination in formations. +Afterward several of the coaches addressed them earnestly, touching each +man on the spot that hurt, showing them where they failed and how to +remedy their defects, but never goading them to despondency. + +"I should be afraid of a team that was perfect the day before the game," +said Preston; "afraid that when the real struggle came they'd disappoint +me. A team should go into the final contest with the ability to play a +little better than it has played at any time during the season; with a +certain amount of power in reserve. And so I expect to-morrow to see +almost all of the faults that we have talked of eliminated. I expect to +see every man do that little better that means so much. And if he does +he'll make Mr. Mills happy, he'll make all the other coaches happy, +he'll make his captain and himself happy, and he'll make the college +happy. And he'll make Robinson unhappy!" + +Then the line-up that was to start the game was read. Neil, sitting +listlessly between Paul and Foster, heard it with a little ache at his +heart. He was glad that Paul was not to be disappointed, but it was hard +to think that he was to have no part in the supreme battle for which he +had worked conscientiously all the fall, and the thought of which had +more than once given him courage to go on when further effort seemed +impossible. + +"Stone, Tucker, Browning, Stowell, Witter, Carey, Devoe, Foster, Gale--" + +"Good for you, Paul," whispered Neil. Then he sighed as the list went +on-- + +"Gillam, Mason." + +Then a long string of substitutes was read. Neil's name was among these, +but that fact meant little enough. + +"Every man whose name has been read report at eleven to-morrow for +lunch. Early to bed is the rule for every one to-night, and I want every +one to obey it." Mills paused; then he went on in softer tones: "Some of +you are disappointed. Some of you have worked faithfully--you all have, +for that matter--only to meet with disappointment to-day. But we can't +put you all in the line-up; I wish we could. But to those who have tried +so hard and so honestly for positions in to-morrow's game, and who have +of necessity been left out, I can only offer the sympathy of myself and +the other coaches, and of the other players. You have done your share, +and it no doubt seems hard that you are to have no better share in the +final test. But let me tell you that even though you do not play against +Robinson, you have nevertheless done almost as much toward defeating her +as though you faced her to-morrow. It's the season's work that +counts--the long, hard preparation--and in that you've had your place +and done your part well. And for that I thank you on behalf of myself, +on behalf of the coaches who have been associated with me, and on behalf +of the college. And now I am going to ask you fellows of the varsity to +give three long Erskines, three-times-three, and three long 'scrubs' +on the end!" + +And they were given not once, but thrice. And then the scrub lustily +cheered the varsity, and they both cheered Mills and Devoe and Simson +and all the coaches one after another. And when the last long-drawn +"Erskine" had died away Mills faced them again. + +"There's one more cheer I want to hear, fellows, and I think you'll give +it heartily. In to-morrow's game we are going to use a form of defense +that will, I believe, enable us to at least render a good account of +ourselves. And, as most of you know, this defense was thought out and +developed by a fellow who, although unfortunately unable to play the +game himself, is nevertheless one of the finest football men in +college. If we win to-morrow a great big share of the credit will be due +to that man; if we lose he still will have done as much as any two of +us. Fellows, I ask for three cheers for Burr!" + +Mills led that cheer himself and it was a good one. The pity of it was +that Sydney wasn't there to hear it. + +The November twilight was already stealing down over the campus when +Neil and Paul left the gymnasium and made their way back to Curtis's. +Paul was highly elated, for until the line-up had been read he had been +uncertain of his fate. But his joy was somewhat dampened by the fact +that Neil had failed to make the team. + +"It doesn't seem just right for me to go into the game, chum, with you +on the side-line," he said. "I don't see what Mills is thinking of! Who +in thunder's to kick for us?" + +"I guess you'll be called on, Paul, if any field-goals are needed." + +"I suppose so, but--hang it, Neil, I wish you were going to play!" + +"Well, so do I," answered Neil calmly; "but I'm not, and so that settles +it. After all, they couldn't do anything else, Paul, but let me out. +I've been playing perfectly rotten lately." + +"But--but what's the matter? You don't look stale, chum." + +"I feel stale, just the same," answered Neil far from untruthfully. + +"But maybe you'll get in for a while; you're down with the subs," said +Paul hopefully. + +"Maybe I will. Maybe you'll get killed and Gillam'll get killed and a +few more'll get killed and they'll take me on. But don't you worry about +me; I'm all right." + +Paul looked at him as though rather puzzled. + +"By Jove, I don't believe you care very much whether you play or don't," +he said at last. "If it had been me they'd let out I'd simply gone off +into a dark corner and died." + +"I'm glad it wasn't you," answered Neil heartily. + +"Thunder! So'm I!" + +The college in general had taken Neil's deflection philosophically after +the first day or so of wonderment and dismay. The trust in Mills was +absolute, and if Mills said Fletcher wasn't as good as Gale for left +half-back, why, he wasn't; that was all there was about it. There was +one person in college, however, who was not deceived. Sydney Burr, +recollecting Neil's "supposititious case," never doubted that Neil had +purposely sacrificed himself for his room-mate. At first he was inclined +to protest to Neil, even to go the length of making Mills cognizant of +the real situation; but in the end he kept his own counsel, doubtful of +his right to interfere. And, in some way, he grew to think that Paul was +not in the dark; that he knew of Neil's plan and was lending his +sanction to it; that, in fact, the whole arrangement was a conspiracy in +which both Neil and Paul shared equally. In this he did Paul injustice, +as he found out later. + +He went to Neil's room that Friday night for a few minutes and found +Paul much wrought up over the disappearance of Tom Cowan. Cowan's room +looked as though a cyclone had struck it, Paul declared, and Cowan +himself was nowhere to be found. + +"I'll bet he's done what he said he'd do and left," said Paul. But +Sydney had seen him but an hour or so before at commons, and Paul set +out to hunt him up. + +"I know you chaps don't like him," he said; "but he's been mighty decent +to me, and I don't want to seem to be going back on him just now when +he's so down on his luck. I'll be back in a few minutes." + +Sydney found Neil quite cheerful and marveled at it. He himself was +oppressed by a nervousness that couldn't have been worse had he been due +to face Robinson's big center the next day. He feared the "antidote" +wouldn't work right; he feared Robinson had found out all about it and +had changed their offense; he feared a dozen evils, and Neil was kept +busy comforting him. At nine o'clock Paul returned without tidings of +Cowan, and Sydney said good-night. + +"I don't believe I'll go out to the field to-morrow," he said half +seriously. "I'll stay in my room and listen to the cheering. If it +sounds right toward the end of the game I'll know that things have +gone our way." + +"You won't be able to tell anything of the sort," said Neil, "for the +fellows are going to cheer just as hard if we lose as they would had we +won. Mills insists on that, and what he says goes this year." + +"That's so," said Paul; "and it's the way it ought to be. If ever a team +needs cheering and encouragement it's when things are blackest, and not +when it's winning." + +"And so, you see, you'll have to go to the field, Syd," said Neil as he +followed the other out to the porch. "By Jove, what a night, eh? I never +saw so many stars, I believe. Well, we'll have a good clear day for the +game and a good turf underfoot. Good-night, Syd." + +"Good-night," answered the other. Then, sorrowfully, "I do wish you were +going to play, Neil." + +"Thanks, Syd; but don't let that keep you awake. Good-night!" + +The room-mates chatted in a desultory way for half an hour longer and +then prepared for bed. Paul was somewhat nervous and excited, and +displayed a tendency to stop short in the middle of removing a stocking +to gaze blankly before him for whole minutes at a time. Once he stood +so long on one leg with his trousers half off that Neil feared he had +gone to sleep, and so brought him back to a recollection of the business +in hand by shying a boot at him. + +As for Neil, he was untroubled by nervousness. He believed Erskine was +going to win. For the rest, the eve of battle held no exciting thoughts +for him. He could neither win the game nor lose it; he was merely a +spectator, like thousands of others; only he would see the contest from +the players' bench instead of the big new stand that half encircled +the field. + +But despite the feeling of aloofness that possessed and oppressed him, +sleep did not come readily. For a long time he heard Paul stirring about +restlessly across the little bedroom and the occasional cheers of some +party of patriotic students returning to their rooms across the common. +His brain refused to stop its labors; and, in fact, kept busily at them +long after he had fallen asleep. He dreamed continually, a ceaseless +stream of weird, unpleasant visions causing him to turn and toss all +through the night and leaving him when dawn came weary and unrefreshed. + +Out of doors the early sun was brushing away the white frost. The sky +was almost devoid of clouds, and the naked branches of the elms reached +upward unswayed by any breeze. It was an ideal day, that 23d of +November, bright, clear, and keen. Nature could not have been kinder to +the warriors who, in a few short hours, were to meet upon the yellowing +turf, nor to the thousands who were to assemble and cheer them on to +victory--or defeat. + + + +CHAPTER XX + +COWAN BECOMES INDIGNANT + +Breakfast at the training-table that morning was a strange meal, to +which the fellows loitered in at whatever hour best pleased them. Many +showed signs of restless slumber, and the trainer was as watchful as an +old hen with a brood of chickens. For some there were Saturday morning +recitations; those who were free were sent out to the field at ten +o'clock and were put through a twenty-minute signal practise. Among +these were Neil and Paul. A trot four times around the gridiron ended +the morning's work, and they were dismissed with orders to report at +twelve o'clock for lunch. + +Neil, Paul, and Foster walked back together, and it was the last that +suggested going down to the depot to see the arrival of the Robinson +players. So they turned down Poplar Street to Main and made their way +along in front of the row of stores there. The village already showed +symptoms of excitement. The windows were dressed in royal purple, with +here and there a touch of the brown of Robinson, and the sidewalk +already held many visitors, while others were invading the college +grounds across the street. Farther on the trio passed the bicycle +repair-shop. In front of the door, astride an empty box, sat the +proprietor, sunning himself and keeping a careful watch on the village +happenings. With a laugh Neil left his companions and ran across +the street. + +"Good-morning," he said. The little man on the box looked up inquiringly +but failed to recognize his tormentor. + +"Mornin'," he grunted suspiciously. + +"I wanted to tell you," said Neil gravely, "that your diagnosis was +correct, after all." + +"Hey?" asked the little man querulously. + +"Yes, it _was_ a cold-chisel that did it," said Neil. "You remember you +said it was." + +"Cold-chisel? Say, what you talkin'--" Then a light of recognition +sprang into his weazened features. "You're the feller that owes me a +quarter!" he cried shrilly, scrambling to his feet. + +Neil was off on the instant. As the three went on toward the station the +little man's denunciations followed them: + +"You come back here an' pay me that quarter! If I knew yer name I'd have +ther law on yer! But I know yer face, an' I'll--" + +"His name's Legion," called Ted Foster over his shoulder. + +"Hey? What?" shrieked the repair man. + +"Legion!" + +"I don't know what you say, but I'll report that feller ter th' +authorities!" + +Then a long whistle broke in upon the discussion, and the three rushed +for the station platform. + +From the vantage-point of a baggage-truck they watched the Robinson +players and the accompanying contingent descend from the train. There +were twenty-eight of the former, heavily built, strapping-looking +fellows, and with them a small army of coaches, trainers, and +supporters. Neil dug his elbow against Paul. + +"Look," he said, "there's your friend Brill." + +And sure enough, there was the Robinson coach who had visited the two at +Hillton a year before and tried to get them to go to the rival college. + +"If you'd like to make arrangements for next year, Paul," Neil whispered +mischievously, "now's your time." + +But Paul grinned and shook his head. + +The players and most of the coaches tumbled into carriages and were +taken out to Erskine Field for a short practise, and the balance of the +arrivals started on foot toward the hotel. The three friends retraced +their steps. Luckily, the proprietor of the bicycle repair-shop was so +busy looking over the strangers that they passed unseen in the little +stream. There remained the better part of an hour before lunch-time, and +they found themselves at a loss for a way to spend the time. Foster +finally went off to his room, as he explained airily, "to dash off a +letter on his typewriter," a statement that was greeted with howls of +derision from the others, who, for want of a better place, went into +Butler's bookstore and aimlessly looked over the magazines and papers. + +It was while thus engaged that Paul heard his name spoken, and turned to +find Mr. Brill smilingly holding out his hand. + +"I thought I wasn't mistaken," the Robinson coach said as they shook +hands. "And isn't that your friend Fletcher over there?" + +Neil heard and came over, and the three stood and talked for a few +minutes. Mr. Brill seemed well pleased with the football outlook. + +"I'll wager you gentlemen will regret not coming to us after to-day's +game is over," he laughed. "I hear you've got something up your sleeve." + +"We have," said Neil. + +"So I heard. What's the nature of it?" + +"It's muscle," answered Neil gravely. + +The coach laughed. "Of course, if it's a secret, I don't want to hear +it. But I think you're safe to get beaten, secret or no secret, eh?" + +"Nonsense!" said Paul. "You won't know what struck you when we get +through with you." + +Mr. Brill laughed good-naturedly but didn't look alarmed. + +"By the way," he said, "I saw one of your players a while +ago--Cowan--the fellow we protested. He seemed rather sore." + +"Where was he?" asked Paul eagerly. + +"In a drug-store down there toward the next corner. Have your coaches +found a good man for his place?" + +"Oh, yes, it wasn't hard to fill," answered Neil. "Witter's got it." + +"Witter? I don't think I've heard of him." + +"No, he's not famous--yet; you'll know him better later on." + +Paul was plainly anxious to go in search of Cowan, and so they bade the +Robinson coach good-by. Out on the sidewalk Neil turned a troubled face +toward his friend. + +"Say, Paul, Cowan knows all about the 'antidote,' doesn't he?" + +"Why, yes, I suppose so; he's seen it played." + +"And he knows the signals, too, eh?" + +"Of course. Why?" + +"Well, I've been wondering whether--You heard what Brill said--that +Cowan was feeling sore? Well, do you suppose he'd be mean enough +to--to--" + +"By thunder!" muttered Paul. Then: "No, I don't believe that Cowan would +do a thing like that. I don't think he's a--a traitor!" + +"Well, you know him better than I do," said Neil, "and I dare say you're +right. Only--only I wish we could be certain." + +"I'll find him," answered Paul determinedly. "You wait here for me; or, +no, I may have to hunt; I'll see you at lunch. I'll find out all right." + +He was off on the instant. As he had told Neil, he didn't believe that +Cowan would reveal secrets to Brill or any other of the Robinson people; +but--well, he realized that Cowan was feeling very much aggrieved, and +that he might in his present state of mind do what in a saner moment he +would not consider. At the drug-store he was told that Cowan had left a +few minutes before. The only place that Paul could think of where Cowan +was likely to be was his room, so thither he went. He found the deposed +guard engaged in replacing certain of his pictures and ornaments which +had been taken down. + +"Hello!" he said. "Thought you'd cut my acquaintance too." + +"Nonsense," answered Paul, "I've been trying to find you ever since last +night. Where've you been?" + +"Oh, just knocking around. I got back late last night." + +"I was afraid you had left college. You know you said you might." + +"I know. Well, I've changed my mind. I guess I'll stay on until recess +anyway; maybe until summer. What's the use going anywhere else? If I +went to Robinson I couldn't play; Erskine would protest me. I wish to +goodness I'd had sense enough to let that academy team go hang! Only I +needed some money, and it seemed a good way to make it. After all, there +wasn't anything dishonest about it!" + +"N--no," said Paul. + +"Well, was there?" Cowan demanded, turning upon him fiercely. Paul shook +his head. + +"No, there wasn't. Only, of course, you'd ought to have remembered that +it disqualified you here." Cowan looked surprised. + +"My, but you're getting squeamish!" he said. "The first thing you know +you'll be as bad as Fletcher." There was a moment's silence. "What does +he say about it?" Cowan asked carelessly. + +"Who, Neil? Oh, he--he sympathizes with you," answered Paul vaguely. +"Says it's awfully hard lines, but doesn't think the committee could do +anything else." + +"Humph!" + +"By the way," said Paul, recollecting his errand, "I met Brill of +Robinson a while ago. He said he'd seen you." + +"Yes," grunted Cowan. "I'd like to punch him. Made believe he was all +cut up over my being put off. Why--why it was he that knew about that +academy business! Last September he tried to get me to go to Robinson; +offered me anything I wanted, and I refused. After all a--a fellow's got +some loyalty! He asked all sorts of questions as to whether I was +eligible or not, and I--I don't know what made me, but I told him about +taking that money for playing tackle on that old academy team. He said +that wouldn't matter any. But after I decided not to go to Robinson he +changed his tune; said he wasn't sure but that I was ineligible!" + +"He's a cad," said Paul." + +"And then to-day he tried to get sympathetic, but I shut him up mighty +quick. I told him I knew well enough he was the one who had started the +protest, and offered to punch his nose if he'd come over back of the +stores; but he wouldn't," added Cowan aggrievedly. + +"You--you didn't let out anything to him that would--er--help them in +the game, did you?" asked Paul, studying the floor with great attention. + +"Let out anything?" asked Cowan in puzzled tones. "What do you--" He put +down the picture he held and faced Paul, the blood dying his face. "Look +here, Paul, what do you mean by that?" + +"Why, why--" + +"You want to know if I turned traitor? If I gave away our signals or +something like that, eh?" There was honest indignation in his voice and +a trace of pain, and Paul regretted his suspicions on the instant. + +"Oh, come now, old man," he began, "what I meant--" + +"Now let me tell you something, Gale," said Cowan. "I may not be so nice +as you and Fletcher and Devoe and a lot more of your sort, but I'm not +an out-and-out rascal and traitor! And I didn't think you'd put that on +me, by Jove! I've no love for some of the fellows in this college, nor +for Mills, and I wouldn't care if we got beaten--" He paused. "Yes, I +would, too; I want Robinson to get done up so hard that they'll throw +that cheat Brill out of there. But I want you to understand right here +and now that I'm not cad enough to sell signals." + +"I beg your pardon, Tom," said Paul earnestly. "I didn't think it of +you. Only, when Brill said he'd seen you and that you were feeling +sore, we--I--" + +"Oh, so it was Fletcher that suspected it, was it?" demanded Cowan. + +"No more than I," answered Paul stoutly. "We neither of us really +thought you'd turn traitor, but I was afraid that, feeling the way you +naturally would, you might thoughtlessly say something that Brill could +make use of. That's all" + +Cowan looked doubtful for a moment, then he sniffed. + +"Well, all right," he said finally. "Forget it." + +"You're going out to the game, aren't you?" Paul asked. + +"Yes, I guess so. What's Fletcher think of being laid off?" + +"Well, he doesn't seem to mind it as I thought he would. I--I don't know +quite what to make of him. It almost seems that he's--well, glad of it!" + +"Huh! You've got another guess, my friend." + +"How's that? What do you mean?" + +"Nothing much; only I guess I've got better eyes than you," responded +Cowan with a grin. After a pause during which he rearranged the objects +on the mantel-shelf to his satisfaction, he turned to Paul again: + +"Say, do you think Fletcher and I could get on together if--well, if we +knew each other better?" + +"I'm sure you could," answered Paul eagerly. + +"Well, I think I'd like to try it. He--he's not a bad sort of a chap. +Only maybe he wouldn't care to--er--" + +"Oh, yes, he would," answered Paul. "You'll see, Tom." + +"Well, maybe so. Going? Good luck to you. I'll see you on the field." + +Paul hurried around the long curve of Elm Street toward Pearson's +boarding-house, where the players were already gathering for luncheon. +He found Neil on the steps and dragged him off and down to the gate. + +"It's all right," he said. "I found him and asked him, and I wish I +hadn't. He was awfully cut up about it; seemed hurt to think I could +suspect such a thing. Though, really, I didn't quite suspect, you know." + +"I'm sorry we hurt his feelings," said Neil. "It was a bit mean of me to +suggest it." + +"He's going to stay for a while," went on Paul. "And--and--Look here, +chum, don't you think that if--er--you tried you could get to like him +better? From something he said to-day I found out that he thinks you're +a good sort and he'd like to get on with you. Maybe if we kind of looked +after him we could--oh, I don't know! But you see what I mean?" + +"Yes, I see what you mean," replied Neil thoughtfully. "And maybe we'd +get on better if we tried again. Anyhow, Paul, you ask him down to the +room some night and--and we'll see." + +"Thanks," said Paul gratefully. "And now let's get busy with the funeral +baked beans--I mean meats. Gee, I've got about as much appetite as a +fly! I--I wish the game was over with!" + +"So do I," answered Neil, as with a sigh he listlessly followed his chum +into the house. + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE "ANTIDOTE" IS ADMINISTERED + +[Illustration] + +High up against a fair blue sky studded with fleecy clouds streamed a +banner of royal purple bearing in its center a great white E--a flare of +intense color visible from afar over the topmost branches of the empty +elms, and a beacon toward which the stream of spectators set their +steps. In the tower of College Hall the old bell struck two o'clock, and +the throngs at the gates of Erskine Field moved faster, swaying and +pushing past the ticket-takers and streaming out onto the field toward +the big stands already piled high with laughing, chattering humanity. +Under the great flag stretched a long bank of somber grays and black +splashed thickly with purple, looking from a little distance as though +the big banner had dripped its dye on to the multitude beneath. +Opposite, the rival tiers of crowded seats were pricked out lavishly +with the rich but less brilliant brown, while at the end of the +enclosure, where the throngs entered, a smaller stand flaunted the two +colors in almost equal proportions. + +And between stretched a smooth expanse of russet-hued turf ribbed with +white lines that glared in the afternoon sunlight. + +The college band, augmented for the occasion from the ranks of the +village musicians, played blithely; some twelve thousand persons talked, +laughed, or shouted ceaselessly; and the cheering sections were loudly +contending for vocal supremacy. And suddenly on to this scene trotted a +little band of men in black sweaters with purple 'E's, nice new canvas +trousers, and purple and black stockings; and just as suddenly the north +stand arose and the Robinson cheers were blotted out by a mighty chorus +that swept from end to end of the structure and thundered impressively +across the field: + +"_Erskine! Erskine! Erskine! Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah! +Erskine! Erskine! Erskine!_" + +It was repeated over and over, and might, perhaps, have been sounding +yet had not the Robinson players, sturdy, brown-clad youths, ambled onto +the field. Then it was Robinson's turn to make a noise, and she made it; +there's no doubt about that. + +"_Rah-rah-rah! Robinson! Rah-rah-rah! Robinson! Rah-rah-rah! Robinson! +Robinson! Robinson!_" + +The substitutes of both teams retired to the benches and the players who +were to start the game warmed up. Over near the east goal three Erskine +warriors were trying--alas, not very successfully!--to kick the ball +over the cross-bar; they were Devoe and Paul and Mason. Nearer at hand +Ted Foster was personally conducting a little squad around the field by +short stages, and his voice, shrilly cheerful, thrilled doubting +supporters of the Purple hopefully. Robinson's players were going +through much the same antics at the other end of the gridiron, and there +was a business-like air about them that caused many an Erskine watcher +to scent defeat for his college. + +The cheers had given place to songs, and the leader of the band faced +the occupants of the north stand and swung his baton vigorously. +Presumably the band was playing, but unless you had been in its +immediate vicinity you would never have known it. Many of the popular +airs of the day had been refitted with new words for the occasion. As +poetic compositions they were not remarkable, but sung with enthusiasm +by several hundred sturdy voices they answered the purpose. Robinson +replied in kind, but in lesser volume, and the preliminary battle, the +war of voices, went on until three persons, a youth in purple, a youth +in brown, and a man in everyday attire, met in the middle of the field +and watched a coin spin upward in the sunlight and fall to the ground. +Then speedily the contesting forces took their position, the lines-men +and timekeeper hurried forward, and the great stands were +almost stilled. + +Erskine had the ball and the west goal. Stowell poised the pigskin to +his liking and drew back. Devoe shouted a last word of caution. The +referee, a well-known football player and coach, raised his whistle. + +"Are you ready, Erskine? All ready, Robinson?" + +Then the whistle shrilled, the timekeeper's watch clicked, the ball sped +away, and the game had begun. + +The brown-clad skirmishers leaped forward to oppose the invaders, while +the pigskin, slowly revolving, arched in long flight toward the west +goal. It struck near the ten-yard line and the wily Robinson left half +let it go; but instead of rolling over the goal-line it bumped +erratically against the left post and bobbed back to near the first +white line. The left half was on it then like a flash, but the Erskine +forwards were almost upon him and his run was only six yards long, and +it was Robinson's ball on her ten-yard line. The north stand was +applauding vociferously this stroke of fortune. If Erskine could get +possession of the ball now she might be able to score; but her coaches, +watching intently from the side-line, knew that only the veriest fluke +could give the pigskin to the Purple. And meanwhile, with hearts beating +a little faster than usual, they awaited the first practical test of the +"antidote." + +Robinson lined up quickly. Left tackle dropped from the line, and taking +a position between full-back and right half, formed the center of the +tandem that faced the tackle-guard hole on the right. Left half stood +well back, behind quarter, ready to oppose any Erskine players who +managed to get around the left of their line. The full-back who headed +the tandem was a notable line-bucker, although his weight was but 172 +pounds. The left tackle, Balcom, tipped the scales at 187, while the +third member of the trio was twenty pounds lighter. Together they +represented 525 pounds. + +Opposed to them were Gillam and Mason, whose combined weight was 312 +pounds. Gillam stood between left-guard and tackle, with Mason, his +hands on the other's shoulders, close behind. + +The Robinson quarter stared for an instant with interest at the opposing +formation, and the full-back, crouched forward ready to plunge across +the little space that divided him from the opponents' territory, looked +uneasy. Then the quarter stooped behind the big center. + +"_Signal!_" he called. "_12--21--212!_" + +The ball came back to him. At the same instant the tandem moved forward, +the Erskine guard and tackle engaged the opposing guard and tackle, and +Gillam and Mason shot through the hole, the former with head down and a +padded shoulder presented to the enemy, and the latter steadying him and +hurling him forward. Then two things happened at the same moment; the +ball passed from quarter to tackle, and Gillam and the leader of the +tandem came together. + +The shock of that collision was plainly heard on the side-lines. For an +instant the tandem stopped short. Then superior weight told, and it +moved forward again, reenforced by quarter and right end; but +simultaneously the Erskine quarter and left half made themselves felt +back of Mason and Gillam, and then chaos reigned. The entire forces of +each side were in the play, and for nearly half a minute the swaying +mass moved inch by inch, first forward, then backward, the Robinson left +tackle refusing to believe that their famous play was for once a failure +and so clinging desperately to the ball, the center of a veritable +maelstrom of panting, struggling players. Then the whistle sounded and +the dust of battle cleared away. Robinson had gained half a yard. + +The north stand cheered delightedly. It had only seen the Robinson +tandem stopped in its tracks, and did not know that in the struggle just +passed Erskine had used a new and novel defense for the first time on +any football field, had vindicated her coaches' faith in it, and brought +surprise and dismay to the brown-clad warriors and their adherents. If +it had known as much as Mills and Jones and Sydney about the "antidote" +it would have shouted itself hoarse. + +Gillam trotted back to his place. His extra-padded head-harness and +heavy shoulder-pads had brought him forth unscathed. On the side-line +the Erskine coaches talked softly to each other, trying hard to look +unconcerned, but nevertheless showing their pleasure. Sydney Burr, +rather pale, was among them, and was, perhaps, the happiest of all. The +bench whereon the substitutes sat was one long grin from end to end. But +Robinson was far from being beaten, and the game went on. + +Again the tandem was hurled at the same point, and again Gillam met the +shock of it. This time the defense worked better, and Robinson lost the +half-yard of gain and another half-yard on top of that. + +"Six yards to gain," said the score-board. And the purple-decked stand +voiced its triumph. + +Robinson wisely decided to yield possession of the ball and get away +from such a dangerous locality. On the next play she punted and Paul was +brought to earth on Robinson's fifty yards. Now was the time for Erskine +to test her offensive powers. On the first play, using the +close-formation, Gillam slashed a hole between the opposing center and +right-guard and Mason went through for two yards. The next play netted +them another yard in the same place. Then Paul was given the pigskin for +a try outside of right tackle and reeled off four yards more before he +was downed. It was quick starting and fast running, and for the moment +Robinson was taken off her feet; but the next try ended dismally, for in +an attempt to get through the left of the line between guard and tackle +Mason was caught and thrown back for a two-yard loss. Another try +outside of tackle on that side of the line netted but a bare three feet, +and Foster dropped back for a kick. His effort was not very successful, +and the ball was Robinson's on her twenty-seven yards. + +Now she tried the tackle-tandem on the other side of center, hurling +right tackle, followed by left half with the ball, and full-back at the +guard-tackle hole. Paul led the defense this time, and again Robinson +was brought up all standing. Another try at the same point with like +results, and Robinson changed her tactics. With the tandem formation, +the ball went to full-back, and with left end and tackle interfering he +skirted Erskine's right for seven yards and brought the wearers of the +brown to their feet shouting wildly. Perhaps no one was more surprised +than Bob Devoe, for it was his end that had been circled. Certainly no +one was more thoroughly disgusted than he. The Robinson left end had put +him out of the play as neatly as though he had been the veriest tyro. +Devoe sized up that youth, set his lips together, and kept his +eyes open. + +Robinson now had the ball near her thirty-five yards and returned to the +tackle-tandem. In two plays she gained two yards, the result of faster +playing. Then another try outside of right tackle brought her five +yards. Tackle-tandem again, one yard; again, two yards; a try outside of +tackle, one yard; Erskine's ball on Robinson's forty-three yards. The +pigskin went to Gillam, who got safely away outside Robinson's right end +and reeled off ten yards before he was caught. Again he was given the +ball for a plunge through right tackle and barely gained a yard. Mason +found another yard between left-guard and tackle and Foster kicked. It +was poorly done, and the leather went into touch at the twenty-five +yards, and once more Robinson set her feet toward the Erskine goal. + +So far the playing had all been done in her territory and her coaches +were looking anxious. Erskine's defense was totally unlooked for, both +as regarded style and effectiveness, and the problem that confronted +them was serious. Their team had been perfected in the tackle-tandem +play to the neglecting of almost all else. Their backs were heavy and +consequently slow when compared with their opponents. To be sure, thus +far runs outside of tackle and end had been successful, but the coaches +well knew that as soon as Erskine found that such plays were to be +expected she would promptly spoil them. Kicking was not a strong point +with Robinson this year; at that game her enemy could undoubtedly beat +her. Therefore, if the tackle-back play didn't work what was to be done? +There was only one answer: Make it! There was no time or opportunity now +to teach new tricks; Robinson must stand or fall by tackle-tandem. And +while the coaches were arriving at this conclusion, White, their captain +and quarter-back, had already reached it. + +He placed the head of the tandem nearer the line, put the tackle at the +head of it, and hammered away again. Mills, seeing the move, silently +applauded. It was the one way to strengthen the tandem play, for by +starting nearer the line the tandem could possibly reach it before the +charging opponents got into the play. Momentum was sacrificed and an +instant of time gained, and, as it proved, that instant of time meant a +difference of fully a yard on each play. Had the two Erskine warriors +whose duty it was to hurl themselves against the tandem been of heavier +weight it is doubtful if the change made would have greatly benefited +their opponents; but, as it was, the two forces met about on Robinson's +line, and after the first recoil the Brown was able to gain, sometimes a +bare eighteen inches, sometimes a yard, once or twice three or four. + +And now Robinson took up her march steadily toward the Purple's goal. +The backs plowed through for short distances; Gillam and Paul bore the +brunt of the terrific assaults heroically; the Erskine line fell back +foot by foot, yard by yard; and presently Robinson crossed the +fifty-five-yard line and emerged into Erskine territory. Here there was +a momentary pause in her conquering invasion. A fumble by the full-back +allowed Devoe to get through and fall on the ball. + +Erskine now knifed the Brown's line here and there and shot Gillam and +Paul through for short gains and made her distance. Then, with the +pigskin back in Robinson territory, Erskine was caught holding and +Robinson once more took up her advance. Carey at right tackle weakened +and the Brown piled her backs through him. On Erskine's thirty-two yards +he gave place to Jewell and the tandem moved its attack to the other +side of the line. Paul and Gillam, both pretty well punished, still held +out stubbornly. Yard by yard the remaining distance was covered. On her +fifteen yards, almost under the shadow of her goal-posts, Erskine was +given ten yards for off-side play, and the waning hopes of the +breathless watchers on the north stand revived. + +But from the twenty-five-yard line the steady rushes went on again, back +over the lost ground, and soon, with the half almost gone, Robinson +placed the ball on Erskine's five yards. Twice the tandem was met +desperately and hurled back, but on the third down, with her whole +back-field behind the ball, Robinson literally mowed her way through, +sweeping Paul and Mason, and Gillam and Foster before her, and threw +Bond over between the posts with the ball close snuggled beneath him. + +The south stand leaped to its feet, blue flags and streamers fluttered +and waved, and cheers for Robinson rent the air until long after the +Brown's left half had kicked a goal. Then the two teams faced each other +again and the Robinson left end got the kick-off and ran it back fifteen +yards. Again the battering of the tackle-tandem began, and Paul and +Gillam, nearly spent, were unable to withstand it after the first half +dozen plays. Mason went into the van of the defense in place of Gillam, +but the Brown's advance continued; one yard, two yards, three yards were +left behind. + +Mills, watching, glanced almost impatiently at the timekeeper, who, with +his watch in hand, followed the battle along the side-line. The time was +almost up, but Robinson was back on Erskine's thirty-five yards. But now +the timekeeper walked on to the gridiron, his eyes fixed intently on the +dial, and ere the ball went again into play he had called time. The +lines broke up and the two teams trotted away. + +The score-board proclaimed: + +Erskine 0, Opponents 6. + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +BETWEEN THE HALVES + +Neil trotted along at the tail-end of the procession of substitutes, so +deep in thought that he passed through the gate without knowing it, and +only came to himself when he stumbled up the locker-house steps. He +barked his shins and reached a conclusion at the same instant. + +At the door of the dressing-room a strong odor of witch-hazel and +liniment met him. He squeezed his way past a group of coaches and looked +about him. Confusion reigned supreme. Rubbers and trainer were hard at +work. Simson's voice, commanding, threatening, was raised above all +others, a shrill, imperious note in a rising and falling babel of sound. +Veterans of the first half and substitutes chaffed each other +mercilessly. Browning, with an upper lip for all the world like a piece +of raw beef, mumbled good-natured retorts to the charges brought against +him by Reardon, the substitute quarter-back. + +[Illustration: Erskine vs. Robinson--The First Half.] + +"Yes, you really ought to be careful," the latter was saying with +apparent concern. "If you let those chaps throw you around like that +you may get bruised or broken. I'll speak to Price and ask him to be +more easy with you." + +"Mmbuble blubble mummum," observed Browning. + +"Oh, don't say that," Reardon entreated. + +Neil was looking for Paul, and presently he discovered him. He was lying +on his back while a rubber was pommeling his neck and shoulders +violently and apparently trying to drown him in witch-hazel. He caught +sight of Neil and winked one highly discolored eye. Neil examined him +gravely; Paul grinned. + +"There's a square inch just under your left ear, Paul, that doesn't +appear to have been hit. How does that happen?" + +Paul grinned more generously, although the effort evidently pained him. + +"It's very careless of them, I must say," Neil went on sternly. "See +that it is attended to in the next half." + +"Don't worry," answered Paul, "it will be." Neil smiled. + +"How are you feeling?" he asked. + +"Fine," Paul replied. "I'm just getting limbered up." + +"You look it," said Neil dryly. "I suppose by the time your silly neck +is broken you'll be in pretty good shape to play ball, eh?" Simson +hurried up, closely followed by Mills. + +"How's the neck?" he asked. + +"It's all right now," answered Paul. "It felt as though it had been +driven into my body for about a yard." + +"Do you think you can start the next half?" asked Mills anxiously. + +"Sure; I can play it through; I'm all right now," replied Paul gaily. +Mills's face cleared. + +"Good boy!" he muttered, and turned away. Neil sped after him. + +"Mr. Mills," he called. The head coach turned, annoyed by the +interruption. + +"Well, Fletcher; what is it?" + +"Can't I get in for a while, sir?" asked Neil earnestly. "I'm feeling +fine. Gillam can't last the game, nor Paul. I wish you'd let--" + +"See Devoe about it," answered Mills shortly. He hurried away, leaving +Neil with open mouth and reddening cheeks. + +"Well, that's what I get for disappointing folks," he told himself. +"Only he needn't have been _quite_ so short. What's the good of asking +Devoe? He won't let me on. And--but I'll try, just the same. Paul's had +his chance and there's no harm now in looking after Neil Fletcher." + +He found Devoe with Foster and one of the coaches. The latter was +lecturing them forcibly in lowered tones, and Neil hesitated to +interrupt; but while he stood by undecided Devoe glanced up, his face a +pucker of anxiety. Neil strode forward. + +"Say, Bob, get me on this half, can't you? Mills told me to see you," he +begged. "Give me a chance, Bob!" + +Devoe frowned impatiently and shook his head. + +"Can't be done, Neil. Mills has no business sending you to me. He's +looking after the fellows himself. I've got troubles enough of my own." + +"But if I tell him you're willing?" asked Neil eagerly. + +"I'm not willing," said Devoe. "If he wants you he'll put you on. Don't +bother me, Neil, for heaven's sake. Talk to Mills." + +Neil turned away in disappointment. It was no use. He knew he could play +the game of his life if only they'd take him on. But they didn't know; +they only knew that he had been tried and found wanting. There was no +time now to test doubtful men. Mills and Devoe and Simson were not to be +blamed; Neil recognized that fact, but it didn't make him happy. He +found a seat on a bench near the door and dismally looked on. Suddenly a +conversation near at hand engaged his attention. + +Mills, Jones, Sydney Burr, and two other assistant coaches were gathered +together, and Mills was talking. + +"The 'antidote's' all right," he was saying decidedly. "If we had a +team that equaled theirs in weight we could stop them short; but they're +ten pounds heavier in the line and seven pounds heavier behind it. What +can you expect? Without the 'antidote' they'd have had us snowed under +now; they'd have scored five or six times on us." + +"Easy," said Jones. "The 'antidote's' all right, Burr. What we need are +men to make it go. That's why I say take Gillam out. He's played a star +game, but he's done up now. Let Pearse take his place, play Gale as long +as he'll last, and then put in Smith. How about Fletcher?" + +"No good," answered Mills. "At least--" He stopped and narrowed his +eyes, as was his way when thinking hard. + +"I think he'd be all right, Mr. Mills," said Sydney. "I--I know him +pretty well, and I know he's the sort of fellow that will fight hardest +when the game's going wrong." + +"I thought so, too," answered Mills; "but--well, we'll see. Maybe we'll +give him a try. Time's up now.--O Devoe!" + +"Yes, coming!" + +"Here's your list. Better get your men out." + +There was a hurried donning of clothing, a renewed uproar. + +"All ready, fellows," shouted the captain. "Answer to your names: +Kendall, Tucker, Browning, Stowell, Witter, Jewell, Devoe, Gale, Pearse, +Mason, Foster." + +"There's not much use in talk," said Mills, as the babel partly died +away. "I've got no fault to find with the work of any of you in the last +half; but we've got to do better in this half; you can see that for +yourselves. You were a little bit weak on team-play; see if you can't +get together. We're going to tie the score; maybe we're going to beat. +Anyhow, let's work like thunder, fellows, and, if we can't do any more, +tear that confounded tackle-tandem up and send it home in pieces. We've +got thirty-five minutes left in which to show that we're as good if not +better than Robinson. Any fellow that thinks he's not as good as the man +he's going to line up against had better stay out. I know that every one +of you is willing, but some of you appeared in the last half to be +laboring under the impression that you were up against better men. Get +rid of that idea. Those Robinson fellows are just the same as you--two +legs, two arms, two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. Go at it right and you +can put them out of the play. Remember before you give up that the other +man's just as tuckered as you are, maybe more so. Your captain says we +can win out. I think he knows more about it than we fellows on the +side-line do. Now go ahead, get together, put all you've got into it, +and see whether your captain knows what he's talking about. Let's have +a cheer for Erskine!" + +Neil stood up on the bench and got into that cheer in great shape. He +was feeling better. Mills had half promised to put him in, and while +that might mean much or nothing it was ground for hope. He trotted on to +the field and over to the benches almost happily. + +The spectators were settling back in their seats, and the cheering had +begun once more. The north stand had regained its spirit. After all, the +game wasn't lost until the last whistle blew, and there was no telling +what might happen before that. So the student section cheered and sang, +the band heroically strove to make itself heard, and the purple flags +tossed and fluttered. The sun was almost behind the west corner of the +stand, and overcoat collars and fur neck-pieces were being snuggled into +place. From the west tiers of seats came the steady tramp-tramp of +chilled feet, hinting their owners' impatience. + +The players took their places, silence fell, and the referee's whistle +blew. Robinson kicked off, and the last half of the battle began. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +NEIL GOES IN + +But what a dismal beginning it was! + +Pearse, who had taken Gillam's place at right half-back, misjudged the +long, low kick, just managed to tip the ball with one outstretched hand +as it went over his head, and so had to turn and chase it back to the +goal-line. But Mason had seen the danger and was before him. Seizing the +bouncing pigskin, he was able to reach the ten-yard line ere the +Robinson right end bore him to earth. A moment later the ball went to +the other side as a penalty for holding, and it was Robinson's first +down on Erskine's twelve yards. Neil, watching intently from the bench, +groaned loudly. Stone, beside him, kicked angrily into the turf. + +"That settles it," he muttered glumly. "Idiots!" + +Pearse it was who met that first fierce onslaught of the Brown's tandem, +and he was new to the play; but Mason was behind him, and he was sent +crashing into the leader like a ball from the mouth of a cannon. The +tandem stopped; a sudden bedlam of voices from the stands broke forth; +there were cries of "Ball! Ball!" and Witter flung himself through, +rolled over a few times, and on the twenty-yard line, with half the +Erskine team striving to pull him on and all the Robinson team trying to +pull him back, groaned a faint "Down!" Robinson's tackle had fumbled the +pass, and for the moment Erskine's goal was out of danger. + +"Line up!" shouted Ted Foster. "Signal!" + +The men scurried to their places. + +"_49--35--23!_" + +Back went the ball and Pearse was circling out toward his own left end, +Paul interfering. The north stand leaped to its feet, for it looked for +a moment as though the runner was safely away. But Seider, the Brown's +right half, got him about the knees, and though Pearse struggled and was +dragged fully five yards farther, finally brought him down. Fifteen +yards was netted, and the Erskine supporters found cause for +loud acclaim. + +"Bully tackle, that," said Neil. Stone nodded. + +"Seems to me we can get around those ends," he muttered; "especially the +left. I don't think Bloch is much of a wonder. There goes Pearse." + +The ends were again worked by the two half-backs and the distance thrice +won. The purple banners waved ecstatically and the cheers for Erskine +thundered out. Neil was slapping Stone wildly on the knee. + +"Hold on," protested the left end, "try the other. That one's a bit +lame." + +"Isn't Pearse a peach?" said Neil. "Oh, but I wish I was out there!" + +"You may get a whack at it yet," answered Stone. "There goes a jab at +the line." + +"I may," sighed Neil. He paused and watched Mason get a yard through the +Brown's left tackle. "Only, if I don't, I suppose I won't get my E." + +"Oh, yes, you will. The Artmouth game counts, you know." + +"I wasn't in it." + +"That's so, you weren't; I'd forgotten. But I think you'll get it, just +the--Good work, Gale!" Paul had made four yards outside of tackle, and +it was again Erskine's first down on the fifty-five-yard line. The +cheers from the north stand were continuous; Neil and Stone were obliged +to put their heads together to hear what each other said. + +For five minutes longer Erskine's wonderful good fortune continued, and +the ball was at length on Robinson's twenty-eight yards near the north +side-line. Foster was waving his hand entreatingly toward the seats, +begging for a chance to make his signals heard. From across the field, +in the sudden comparative stillness of the north stand, thundered the +confident slogan of Robinson. The brown-stockinged captain and +quarter-back was shouting incessantly: + +"Steady now, fellows! Break through! Break through! Smash 'em up!" He +ran from one end to the other, thumping each encouragingly on the back, +whispering threats and entreaties into their ears. "Now, then, Robinson, +let's stop 'em right here!" + +Foster, red-faced and hoarse, leaned forward, patted Stowell on the +thigh, caught the ball, passed it quickly to Mason as that youth plunged +for the line, and then threw himself into the breach, pushing, heaving, +fighting for every inch that gave under his torn and scuffled shoes. + +"Second down; four to gain!" + +Robinson was awake now to her danger. Foster saw the futility of further +attempts at the line for the present and called for a run around left +end. The ball went to Pearse, but Bloch for once was ready for him, and, +getting by Kendall, nailed the runner prettily four yards back of the +line to the triumphant pæans of the south stand. + +When the teams had again lined up Foster dropped back as though to try a +kick for goal, a somewhat difficult feat considering the angle. The +Robinson captain was alarmed; he was ready to believe that a team who +had already sprung one surprise on him was capable of securing goals +from any angle whatever; his voice arose in hoarse entreaty: + +"Get through and block this kick, fellows! Get through! Get through!" + +"_Signal_!" cried Foster. "_44--18--23!_" + +The ball flew back from Stowell and Foster caught it breast-high. The +Erskine line held for a moment, then the blue-clad warriors came +plunging through desperately, and had Foster attempted a kick the ball +would never have gone ten feet; but Foster, who knew his limitations in +the kicking line as well as any one else, had entertained no such idea. +The pigskin, fast clutched to Paul's breast, was already circling the +Brown's left end. Devoe had put his opponent out of the play, thereby +revenging himself for like treatment in the first half, and Pearse, a +veritable whirlwind, had bowled over the Robinson left half. There is, +perhaps, no prettier play than a fake kick, when it succeeds, and the +friends of Erskine recognized the fact and showed their appreciation in +a way that threatened to shake the stand from its foundations. + +Paul and Pearse were circling well out in the middle of the field toward +the Robinson goal, now some thirty yards distant measured by white +lines, but far more than that by the course they were taking. Behind +them streamed a handful of desperate runners; before them, rapidly +getting between them and the goal, sped White, the Robinson captain and +quarter. To the spectators a touch-down looked certain, for it was one +man against two; the pursuit was not dangerous. But to Paul it seemed at +each plunge a more forlorn attempt. So far he had borne more than his +share of the punishment sustained by the tackle-tandem defense; he had +worked hard on offense since the present half began, and now, wearied +and aching in every bone and muscle, he found himself scarce able to +keep pace with his interference. + +He would have yielded the ball to Pearse had he been able to tell the +other to take it; but his breath was too far gone for speech. So he +plunged onward, each step slower than that before, his eyes fixed on the +farthest white streak. From three sides of the great field poured forth +the resonance of twelve thousand voices, triumphant, despairing, +appealing, inciting, the very acme of sound. + +Yet Paul vows that he heard nothing save the beat of Pearse's footsteps +and the awful pounding of his own heart. + +On the fifteen-yard line, just to the left of the goal, the critical +moment came. White, with clutching, outstretched hands, strove to evade +Pearse's shoulder, and did so. But the effort cost him what he gained, +for, dodging Pearse and striving to make a sudden turn toward Paul, his +foot slipped and he measured his length on the turf; and ere he had +regained his feet the pursuit passed over him. Pearse met the first +runner squarely and both went down. At the same instant Paul threw up +one hand blindly and fell across the last line. + +On the north stand hats and flags sailed through the air. The south +stand was silent. + +Paul lay unmoving where he had fallen. Simson was at his side in a +moment. Neil, his heart thumping with joy, watched anxiously from the +bench. Presently the group dissolved and Paul emerged between Simson and +Browning, white of face and stumbling weakly on his legs, but grinning +like a jovial satyr. Mills turned to the bench and Neil's heart jumped +into his throat; but it was Smith and not he who struggled feverishly +out of his sweater, donned a head-harness, and sped on to the field. +Neil sighed and sank back. + +"Next time," said Stone sympathetically. But Neil shook his head. + +"I guess there isn't going to be any 'next time,'" he said dolefully. +"Time's nearly up." + +"Not a bit of it; the last ten minutes is longer than all the rest of +the game," answered Stone. "I wonder who'll try the goal." + +"We've got to have it," said Neil. "Surely Devoe can kick an easy one +like that! Why, it's dead in the center!" Stone shook his head. + +"I know, but Bob's got a bad way of getting nervous times like this. He +knows that if he misses we've lost the game, unless we can manage to +score again, which isn't likely; and it's dollars to doughnuts he +doesn't come anywhere near it!" + +Paul staggered up to the bench, Simson carefully wrapping a blanket +about him, and the fellows made room for him a little way from where +Neil sat. He stretched his long legs out gingerly because of the aches, +sighed contentedly, and looked about him. His eyes fell on Neil. + +"Hello, chum!" he said weakly. "Haven't you gone in yet?" + +"Not yet," answered Neil cheerfully. "How are you feeling?" + +"Oh, I'm--ouch!--I'm all right; a bit sore here and there." + +"Devoe's going to kick," said Stone uneasily. + +The ball had been brought out, and now Foster was holding it directly in +front of the center of the cross-bar. The south stand was cheering and +singing wildly in a desperate attempt to rattle the Erskine captain. The +latter looked around once, and the Robinson supporters, taking that as a +sign of nervousness, redoubled their noise. + +"Muckers!" groaned Neil. Stone grinned. + +"Everything goes with them," he said. + +The referee's hand went down, Devoe stepped forward, the blue-clad line +leaped into the field, and the ball sped upward. As it fell Neil turned +to Stone and the two stared at each other in doubt. From both stands +arose a confused roar. Then their eyes sought the score-board at the +west end of the field and they groaned in unison. + +"NO GOAL." + +"What beastly luck!" muttered Stone. + +Neil was silent. Mills and Jones were standing near by and looking +toward the bench and Neil imagined they were discussing him. He watched +breathlessly, then his heart gave a suffocating leap and he was racing +toward the two coaches. + +"Warm up, Fletcher." + +That was all, but it was all Neil asked for. In a twinkling he was +trotting along the line, stretching his cramped legs and arms. As he +passed the bench he tried to look unconcerned, but the row of kindly, +grinning faces told him that his delight was common property. Paul +silently applauded. + +Meanwhile the teams had again faced each other. Twelve minutes of play +remained and the score-board said: Erskine 5, Opponents 6. Both elevens +had made changes. For Erskine, Graham, immense of bulk but slow, had +replaced Stowell at center, and Reardon was in Foster's position. +Robinson had put in new men at left tackle, right end, and full-back. +The game went on again. + +Devoe got the kick-off and brought the ball back to his thirty yards; +but he was injured when thrown and Bell took his place. Smith and Mason +each made two yards around the ends and Pearse got through left-guard +for one. Then a plunge at right tackle resulted disastrously, Mason +being forced back three yards, and Smith took the pigskin for a try +outside of right tackle. He was stopped easily and Mason kicked. +Robinson got the ball on her fifty yards and ran it back to Erskine's +forty-three. Once more the tackle-tandem was brought into play. Smith +failed to stop it, and the head of the defense was given to Pearse; but +Robinson's new left tackle was a good man, and yard by yard Erskine was +borne back toward her goal. The south stand blossomed anew with brown +silk and bunting. + +On her thirty yards Erskine was penalized for off-side and the ball was +almost under her goal. The first fierce plunge of the tandem broke the +Purple line in twain and the backs went through for three yards. Mason +was hurt and the whistle shrilled. A cheer arose from the north stand +and a youth running into the field from the side-line heard it with +fast-beating heart. + +"_Erskine! Erskine! Erskine! Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah! +Fletcher! Fletcher! Fletcher!_" + +Mason was taken off, protesting feebly, and on the next plunge of the +tackle-tandem Neil, with Pearse behind him, brought hope back to Erskine +hearts, for the "antidote" worked to perfection again. All the pent-up +strength and enthusiasm of Neil's body and heart were turned loose, and +he played, as he had known he could if given the opportunity, as he had +never played before, either at Erskine or Hillton. The spirit of battle +held him; he was perfectly happy, and every knock and bruise brought him +joy rather than pain. His chance had come to prove to both the coaches +and the fellows that their first estimate of him was the correct one. + +Robinson made her distance and gained the twenty-yard line by a trick +play outside of left tackle; but that was all she did on that occasion, +for in the next three downs she failed to advance the ball a single +inch, and it went to Erskine. Neil dropped back and the pigskin settled +into his ready hands. When it next touched earth it was in Robinson's +possession on her own fifty yards. That punt brought a burst of applause +from the north seats. Robinson tried tackle-tandem again and Neil and +Pearse stopped it short. Again, and again there was no advance; but when +Neil picked himself out of the pile-up he made the discovery that +something was radically wrong with his right arm and shoulder. He sat +down on the trampled turf to think it over and closed his eyes. He heard +the whistle and Reardon's voice above him: + +"Hurt?" + +Neil looked up and shook his head. His gaze fell on Simson headed toward +him followed by the water-carrier. He staggered to his feet, Reardon's +arm about him. + +"Keep 'Baldy' away," he muttered. "I'm all right; but don't let him get +to me." + +Reardon looked at his white face for a second in doubt. Simson was +almost up to them. He wanted to win, did Reardon, and-- + +"All right here," he cried. + +Neil went to his place, Simson retreated, suspicion written all over his +face, and the whistle sounded. + +Neil met the next attack with his left shoulder fore-most. And it was +Erskine's ball on Robinson's fifty-yards. + +On the first try around the Brown's left end Smith took the leather +twenty yards, catching Bloch napping. The north stand was on its feet in +an instant. Cheer after cheer broke forth encouraging the Purple +warriors to fight their way across those six remaining white lines and +wrest victory from defeat. But there was no time to struggle over the +thirty yards that intervened. A long run might bring a touch-down if +Erskine could again get a back around an end, but two minutes was too +short a time for line-bucking; and, besides, Reardon had his orders. + +On the side-line the timekeeper was keeping a careful eye upon his +stop-watch. + +A try by Neil outside of right tackle netted but a yard and left him +half fainting on the ground. Pearse set off for the left end of the line +on the next play, but never reached it; the Robinson right tackle got +through on to him and stopped him well back of his line. + +"Third down," called the referee, "five to gain!" + +The teams were lined up about half-way between the Robinson goal and the +south side of the field, the ball just inside the thirty-yard line. +Reardon had been directed to try for a field-goal as soon as he got +inside the twenty-five yards. This was only the thirty yards, and the +angle was severe. There was perhaps one chance in three of making a goal +from placement; a drop-kick was out of the question. Moreover, to make +matters more desperate, Neil was injured; just how badly Reardon didn't +know, but the other's white, drawn face told its own story. If the +attempt failed he would be held to blame by the coaches, if it succeeded +he would be praised for good generalship; it was a way coaches had. His +consideration of the problem lasted but a fraction of a minute. He +glanced at Neil and their eyes met. The quarter-back's mind was made up +on the instant. + +"_Signal_!" he cried. "_Steady, fellows; we want this; every one hold +hard_!" + +He trotted back to the thirty-five-yard line and dropped to his knees, +directly behind and almost facing center. Neil took up his position +three yards from him and facing the goal. Pearse and Smith stood guard +between him and the line. The Robinson right half turned and sped back +to join the quarter, whose commands to "Get through and stop this kick!" +were being shouted lustily from his position near the goal-line. + +"Signal!" Reardon repeated. Graham stooped over the ball. Neil, pale but +with a little smile about his mouth, measured his distance. Victory +depended upon him. From where Reardon knelt to the goal was nearly forty +yards on a straight line and the angle was severe. If he made it, well +and good; if he missed--He recalled what Mills had told him ere he +sent him in: + +"I think you can win this for us, Fletcher. Once inside their +twenty-five Reardon will give you the ball for a kick from drop or +placement, as you think best. Whatever happens, don't let your nerves +get the best of you. If you miss, why, you've missed, that's all. Don't +think the world's coming to an end because we've been beaten. A hundred +years from now, when you and I aren't even memories, Erskine will still +be turning out football teams. But if we can, we want to win. Just keep +cool and do your level best, that's all we ask. Now get in there." + +Neil took a deep breath. He'd do his best. If the line held, the ball +ought to go over. He was cool enough now, and although his shoulder +seemed on fire, the smile about his mouth deepened and grew confident. +Reardon stretched forth his hands. + +"_Signal!_" he cried for the third time; but no signal was forthcoming. +Instead Graham sped the ball back to him, steady and true, and the +Robinson line, almost caught napping, failed to charge until the oval +had settled into Reardon's hands and had been placed upon the ground +well cocked at the goal. Then the Brown's warriors broke through and +bore down, big and ugly, upon Pearse and Smith; but Neil was stepping +toward the ball; a long stride, a short one, a long one, and toe and +pigskin came together. Pearse was down and Smith was shouldering +valiantly at a big guard. Two blue-clad arms swept upward almost into +the path of the rising ball; there was a confused sound of crashing +bodies and rasping canvas, and then a Robinson man bounded against Neil +and sent him reeling to earth. + +For an instant the desire to lie still and close his eyes was strong. +But there was the ball! He rolled half over, and raising himself on his +left hand looked eagerly toward the posts. The pigskin, turning lazily +over and over, was still in flight. Straight for the goal it was +speeding, but now it had begun to drop. Neil's heart stood still. Would +it clear the cross-bar? It seemed scarcely possible, but even as despair +seized him, for an instant the bar came between his straining eyes and +the dropping ball! + +A figure with tattered purple sleeves near at hand leaped into the air, +waving his arms wildly. On the stand across the field pandemonium +broke loose. + +Neil closed his eyes. + +A moment later Simson found him there, sitting on the thirty-five-yard +line, one arm hanging limply over his knee, his eyes closed, and his +white face wreathed in smiles. + +Erskine 10, Opponents 6, said the score-board. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +AFTER THE BATTLE + +"You'll not get off so easily this time," said the doctor. + +"No, sir," replied Neil, striving to look concerned. + +He was back on the couch again, just where he had been four weeks +previous, with his shoulder swathed about in bandages just as it had +been then. + +"I can't see what you were thinking about," went on the other irritably, +"to go on playing after you'd bust things up again." + +"No, sir--that is, I'm sure I don't know." Neil's tone was very meek, +but the doctor nevertheless looked at him suspiciously. + +"Humph! Much you care, I guess. But, just the same, my fine fellow, +it'll be Christmas before you have the use of that arm again. That'll +give you time to see what an idiot you were." + +"Thank you, sir." + +The doctor smiled in spite of himself and looked away. + +[Illustration: Erskine vs. Robinson--The Second Half.] + +"Doesn't seem to have interfered with your appetite, anyhow," he said, +glancing at the well-nigh empty tray on the chair. + +"No, sir; I--I tried not to eat much, but I was terribly hungry, Doc." + +"Oh, I guess you'll do." He picked up his hat; then he faced the couch +again and its occupant. "The trouble with you chaps," he said severely, +"is that as long as you've managed to get a silly old leather wind-bag +over a fool streak of lime you think it doesn't matter how much you've +broke yourselves to pieces." + +"Yes, it's very thoughtless of us," murmured Neil with deep +contriteness. + +"Humph!" growled the doctor. "See you in the morning." + +When the door had closed Neil reached toward the tray and with much +difficulty buttered a piece of Graham bread, almost the only edible +thing left. Then he settled back against the pillows, not without +several grimaces as the injured shoulder was moved, and contentedly ate +it. He was very well satisfied. To be sure, a month of invalidism was +not a pleasing prospect, but things might have been worse. And the end +paid for all. Robinson had departed with trailing banners; the coaches +and the whole college were happy; Paul was happy; Sydney was happy; he +was happy himself. Certainly the bally shoulder--ouch!--hurt at times; +but, then one can't have everything one wants. His meditations were +interrupted by voices and footsteps outside the front door. He bolted +the last morsel of bread and awaited the callers. + +These proved to be Paul and Sydney and--Neil stared--Tom Cowan. + +"Rah-rah-rah!" shouted Paul, slamming the door. "How are they coming, +chum? Here's Burr and Cowan to make polite injuries after your +inquiries--I mean inquiries--well, you know what I mean. Tom's been +saying all sorts of nice things about your playing, and I think he'd +like to shake hands with the foot that kicked that goal." + +Neil laughed and put out his hand. Cowan, grinning, took it. + +"It was fine, Fletcher," he said with genuine enthusiasm. "And, some +way, I knew when I saw you drop back that you were going to put it over. +I'd have bet a hundred dollars on it!" + +"Thunder, you were more confident than I was!" Neil laughed. "I wouldn't +have bet more than thirty cents. Well, Board of Strategy, how did you +like the game?" + +Sydney shook his head gravely. + +"I wouldn't care to go through it again," he answered. "I had all kinds +of heart disease before the first half was over, and after that I was +in a sort of daze; didn't know really whether it was football or +Friday-night lectures." + +"You ought to have been at table to-night, chum," said Paul. "We made +Rome howl. Mills made a speech, and so did Jones and 'Baldy,' and--oh, +every one. It was fine!" + +"And they cheered a fellow named Fletcher for nearly five minutes," +added Sydney. "And--" + +"Hear 'em!" Cowan interrupted. From the direction of the yard came a +long volley of cheers for Erskine. Dinner was over and the fellows were +ready for the celebration; they were warming up. + +"Great times to-night," said Paul happily. "I wish you were going out to +the field with us, Neil." + +"Maybe I will." + +"If you try it I'll strap you down," replied Paul indignantly. "By the +way, Mills told me to announce his coming. He's terribly tickled, is +Mills, although he doesn't say very much." + +"He's still wondering how you went stale before the game and then played +the way you did," said Sydney. "However, I didn't say anything." He +caught himself up and glanced doubtfully toward Cowan. "I don't know +whether it's a secret?" He appealed to Neil, who was frowning across +at him. + +"What's a secret?" demanded Paul. + +"Don't mind me," said Cowan. "It may be a secret, but I guessed it long +ago, didn't I, Paul?" + +"What in thunder are you all talking about?" asked that youth, staring +inquiringly from one to another. Sydney saw that he had touched on +forbidden ground and now looked elaborately ignorant. + +"Oh, nothing, Paul," answered Neil. "When are you all going out to the +field?" + +"But there is something," his chum protested warmly. "Now out with it. +What is it, Cowan? What did you guess?" + +"Why, about Fletcher going stale so that you could get into the game," +answered Cowan, apparently ignorant of Neil's wrathful grimaces. "I +guessed right away. Why--" + +"Oh, shut up, won't you?" Neil entreated. "Don't mind them, Paul; +they're crazy. Sydney, you're an ass, if you only knew it." + +"But I thought he knew--" began Sydney. + +"No, I didn't know," said Paul, quietly, his eyes on Neil's averted +face. "I--I must have been blind. It's plain enough now, of course. If I +had known I wouldn't have taken the place." + +"You're all a set of idiots," muttered Neil. + +"I'm sorry I said anything," said Sydney, genuinely distressed. + +"I'm glad," said Paul. "I'm such a selfish brute that I can't see half +an inch before my nose. Chum, all I've got to say--" + +"Shut up," cried Neil. "Listen, fellows, they're marching across the +common. Some one help me to the window. I want to see." + +Paul strode to his side, and putting an arm under his shoulders lifted +him to his feet. Sydney lowered the gas and the four crowded to the +window. Across the common, a long dark column in the starlight, tramped +all Erskine, and at the head marched the band. + +"Gee, what a crowd!" muttered Cowan. + +The head of the procession passed through the gate and turned toward the +house, and the band struck up 'Neath the Elms of Old Erskine. Hundreds +of voices joined in and the slow and stately song thundered up toward +the star-sprinkled sky. + +Paul's arm was still around his room-mate; its clasp tightened a little. + +"Say, chum." + +"Well?" muttered Neil. + +"Thanks." + +"Oh, don't bother me," Neil grumbled. "Let's get out of this; they're +stopping." + +Sydney had stolen, as noiselessly as one may on crutches, to the +chandelier, and suddenly the gas flared up, sending a path of light +across the street and revealing the three at the window. Neil, +exclaiming and protesting, strove to draw back, but Paul held him fast. +From the crowd outside came the deep and long-drawn _A-a-ay!_ and grew +and spread up the line. + +And then the cheering began. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13556 *** |