diff options
| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-06 09:54:16 -0800 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-06 09:54:16 -0800 |
| commit | cce0a1d1016b33a2a8ff92aeea1616e60d949fcd (patch) | |
| tree | 3732b413258d90854a5f3a6d0282c13381f6f261 /old/53116-0.txt | |
| parent | f9e11ba0a1b6ee1c2cc6fa6c3d05a2419557ae1c (diff) | |
Diffstat (limited to 'old/53116-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/53116-0.txt | 7701 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 7701 deletions
diff --git a/old/53116-0.txt b/old/53116-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index cb52621..0000000 --- a/old/53116-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7701 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, Right Guard Grant, by Ralph Henry Barbour, -Illustrated by Leslie Crump - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - - -Title: Right Guard Grant - - -Author: Ralph Henry Barbour - - - -Release Date: September 22, 2016 [eBook #53116] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RIGHT GUARD GRANT*** - - -E-text prepared by Donald Cummings and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team (http://www.pgdp.net) - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustrations. - See 53116-h.htm or 53116-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/53116/53116-h/53116-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/53116/53116-h.zip) - - -Transcriber’s note: - - Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_). - - Text in bold face is enclosed by equal signs (=bold=). - - - - - -RIGHT GUARD GRANT - - - * * * * * * - -THE FOOTBALL ELEVEN BOOKS - -BY - -RALPH HENRY BARBOUR - -LEFT END EDWARDS -LEFT TACKLE THAYER -LEFT GUARD GILBERT -CENTER RUSH ROWLAND -FULL-BACK FOSTER -QUARTER-BACK BATES -LEFT HALF HARMON -RIGHT END EMERSON -RIGHT GUARD GRANT - - * * * * * * - - -[Illustration: Then it was that Leonard had his great moment] - - -RIGHT GUARD GRANT - -by - -RALPH HENRY BARBOUR - -Author of -Left End Edwards, -Full-Back Foster, -Right End Emerson, etc. - -Illustrated by Leslie Crump - - - - - - - -[Illustration] - -Grosset & Dunlap -Publishers New York - -Made in the United States of America - -Copyright, 1923, -By Dodd, Mead and Company, Inc. - -Printed in the U. S. A. - - - - -CONTENTS - - CHAPTER PAGE - I CAPTAIN AND COACH 1 - II TWO IN A TAXI 12 - III ENTER MR. ELDRED CHICHESTER STAPLES 25 - IV LEONARD GETS PROMOTION 35 - V THE BOY ON THE PORCH 49 - VI THE SEASON BEGINS 61 - VII JUST ONE OF THE SUBS 74 - VIII A STRANGE RESEMBLANCE 91 - IX LEONARD MAKES A TACKLE 102 - X THE SECOND TEAM COMES OVER 111 - XI ALTON SEEKS REVENGE 122 - XII VICTORY HARD WON 137 - XIII AN EVENING CALL 147 - XIV MR. CADE MAKES AN ENTRY 159 - XV A TIP FROM MCGRATH 171 - XVI FIRST TRICK TO THE ENEMY 187 - XVII SLIM RETREATS 198 - XVIII LEONARD COMES TO THE PARTY 208 - XIX NOT ELIGIBLE 219 - XX RIGHT GUARD GRANT 233 - XXI RENNEKER EXPLAINS 245 - XXII BEFORE THE BATTLE 260 - XXIII “FIFTY-FIFTY!” 276 - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - - Then it was that Leonard had his great moment _Frontispiece_ - - PAGE - There was another half-hour for each squad with the - tackling dummies 62 - - “That wouldn’t be playing the game,” he answered 210 - - On the same play he got one more 282 - - - - -RIGHT GUARD GRANT - - - - -CHAPTER I - -CAPTAIN AND COACH - - -Although the store had reopened for business only that morning several -customers had already been in and out, and when the doorway was -again darkened momentarily Russell Emerson looked up from his task -of marking football trousers with merely perfunctory interest. Then, -however, since the advancing figure, silhouetted flatly against the hot -September sunlight of the wide-open door, looked familiar, he eased his -long legs over the edge of the counter and strode to meet it. - -“Hello, Cap!” greeted the visitor. The voice was unmistakable, and, now -that the speaker had left the sunlight glare behind him, so too was the -perspiring countenance. - -“Mr. Cade!” exclaimed Russell. “Mighty glad to see you, sir. When did -you get in?” - -Coach Cade lifted himself to the counter and fanned himself with a -faded straw hat. “About two hours ago. Unpacked, had a bath and here I -am. By jove, Emerson, but it’s hot!” - -“Is it?” - -“‘Is it?’” mimicked the other. “Don’t you know it is?” Then he laughed. -“Guess I was a fool to get out of that bath tub, but I wanted to have -a chat with you, and I’m due at Doctor McPherson’s this evening.” He -stopped fanning his reddened face and tossed his hat atop a pile of -brown canvas trousers beside him. “Johnny” Cade was short of stature, -large-faced and broad in a compact way. In age he was still under -thirty. He had a pleasantly mild voice that was at startling variance -with his square, fighting chin, his sharp eyes and the mop of very -black and bristle-like hair that always reminded Russell of a shoe -brush. The mild voice continued after a moment, while the sharp eyes -roamed up and down the premises. “Got things fixed up here pretty -nicely,” he observed commendingly. “Looks as businesslike as any -sporting goods store I know. Branched out, too, haven’t you?” He nodded -across to where three bicycles, brave in blue-and-tan and red-and-white -enamel, leaned. - -“Yes,” answered Russell. “We thought we might try those. They’re just -samples. ‘Stick’ hasn’t recovered from the shock of my daring yet.” -Russell laughed softly. “Stick’s nothing if not conservative, you -know.” - -“Stick? Oh, yes, that’s Patterson, your partner here.” Mr. Cade’s -glance swept the spaces back of the counters. - -“He’s over at the express office trying to trace some goods that ought -to have shown up three days ago,” explained Russell. “How have you been -this summer, sir?” - -“Me? Oh, fine. Been working pretty hard, though.” The coach’s mind -seemed not to be on his words, however, and he added: “Say, that -blue-and-yellow wheel over there is certainly a corker. We didn’t have -them as fine as that when I was a kid.” He got down and walked across -to examine the bicycle. Russell followed. - -“It is good-looking, isn’t it? Better let me sell you one of those, -sir. Ought to come in mighty handy following the squads around the -field!” - -Coach Cade grinned as he leaned the wheel back in its place with -evident regret. “Gee, I suppose I’d break my silly neck if I tried to -ride one of those things now. I haven’t been on one of them for ten -years. Sort of wish I were that much younger, though, and could run -around on that, Cap!” - -“You’d pick it up quickly enough,” said Russell as he again perched -himself on the counter. “Riding a bicycle’s like skating, Mr. Cade: it -comes back to you.” - -“Yes, I dare say,” replied the other dryly. “Much the same way, I -guess. Last time I tried to skate I nearly killed myself. What are you -trying to do? Get a new football coach here?” - -Russell laughed. “Nothing like that, sir. What we need isn’t a new -coach, I guess, but a new team.” - -“H’m, yes, that’s pretty near so. I was looking over the list this -morning on the train and, well--” He shrugged his broad shoulders. -“Looks like building from the ground up, eh?” - -“Only three left who played against Kenly.” - -“Three or four. Still, we have got some good material in sight, Cap. -I wouldn’t wonder if we had a team before the season’s over.” The -coach’s eyes twinkled, and Russell smiled in response. He had a very -nice smile, a smile that lighted the quiet brown eyes and deepened the -two creases leading from the corners of a firm mouth to the sides of -a short nose. Russell Emerson was eighteen, a senior at Alton Academy -this year and, as may have been surmised, captain of the football team. - -“Seen any of the crowd lately?” asked the coach. - -“No. I ran across ‘Slim’ once in August. He was on a sailboat trying to -get up the Hudson; he and three other chaps. I don’t think they ever -made it.” - -“Just loafing, I suppose,” sighed the coach. “I dare say not one of -them has seen a football since spring practice ended.” - -“Well, I don’t believe Slim had one with him,” chuckled Russell. “I -guess I ought to confess that I haven’t done very much practicing -myself, sir. I was working most of the time. Dad has a store, and he -rather looks to me to give him a hand in summer.” - -“You don’t need practice the way some of the others do,” said Mr. Cade. -“Well, we’ll see. By the way, we’re getting that fellow Renneker, from -Castle City High.” - -“Renneker? Gordon Renneker you mean?” asked Russell in surprise. - -Mr. Cade nodded. “That’s the fellow. A corking good lineman, Cap. Made -the Eastern All-Scholastic last year and the year before that. Played -guard last season. If he’s half the papers say he is he ought to fill -in mighty well in Stimson’s place.” - -“How did we happen to get him?” asked Russell interestedly. - -“Oh, it’s all straight, if that’s what you’re hinting at,” was the -answer. “You know I don’t like ‘jumpers.’ They’re too plaguy hard to -handle, generally. Besides, there’s the ethics of the thing. No, we’re -getting Renneker honestly. Seems that he and Cravath are acquainted, -and Cravath went after him. Landed him, too, it seems. Cravath wrote -me in July that Renneker would be along this fall, and just to make -sure I dropped a line to Wharton, and Wharton wrote back that Renneker -had registered. So I guess it’s certain enough.” - -“Well, that’s great,” said Russell. “I remember reading about Gordon -Renneker lots of times. If we have him on one side of Jim Newton and -Smedley on the other, sir, we’ll have a pretty good center trio for a -start.” - -“Newton? Well, yes, perhaps. There’s Garrick, too, you know, Cap.” - -“Of course, but I thought Jim--” - -“He looks good, but I never like to place them until I’ve seen them -work, Emerson. Place them seriously I mean. Of course, you have to make -up a team on paper just to amuse yourself. Here’s one I set down this -morning. I’ll bet you, though, that there won’t be half of them where -I’ve got them now when the season’s three weeks old!” - -Russell took the list and read it: “Gurley, Butler, Smedley, Garrick, -Renneker, Wilde, Emerson, Carpenter, Goodwin, Kendall, Greenwood.” -He smiled. “I see you’ve got me down, sir. You’re dead wrong in two -places, though.” - -“Only two? Which two? Oh, yes, center. What other?” - -“Well, I like ‘Red’ Reilly instead of, say, Kendall. And I’ll bet -you’ll see Slim playing one end or the other before long.” - -Mr. Cade accepted the paper and tucked it away in a pocket again. -“Well, I said this was just for amusement,” he observed, untroubled. -“There may be some good material coming in that we haven’t heard of, -too. You never know where you’ll find a prize. Were any of last year’s -freshmen promising?” - -“I don’t know, sir. I didn’t see much of the youngsters.” - -“Seen Tenney yet?” - -“Yes, he blew in this morning. He’s going to make a good manager, I -think.” - -“Hope so. Did he say anything about the schedule?” - -“Yes, he said it was all fixed. Hillsport came around all right. I -don’t see what their kick was, anyway.” - -“Wanted a later date because they held us to a tie last season,” said -the coach, smiling. - -“Gee, any one could have tied us about the time we played Hillsport! -That was during that grand and glorious slump.” - -“Grand and glorious indeed!” murmured the coach. “Let’s hope there’ll -never be another half so grand! Well, I’ll get along, I guess. By -the way--” Mr. Cade hesitated. Then: “I hope this store isn’t going -to interfere too much with football, Emerson. Mustn’t let it, eh? -Good captains are scarce, son, and I’d hate to see one spoiled -by--er--outside interests, so to speak. Don’t mind my mentioning it, do -you?” - -“Not a mite, sir. You needn’t worry. I’m putting things in shape here -so that Stick can take the whole thing on his own shoulders. I’m not -going to have anything to do with this shop until we’ve licked Kenly -Hall.” - -“Good stuff! See you to-morrow, then. Practice at three, Cap, no matter -what the weather’s like. I guess a lot of those summer loafers will -be the better for losing five or six pounds of fat! And about this -Renneker, Cap. If you run across him it might be a good idea to sort of -make yourself acquainted and--er--look after him a bit. You know what I -mean. Start him off with a good impression of us, and all that.” - -Russell chuckled. “It’s a great thing to bring a reputation with you, -isn’t it?” he asked. - -“Eh?” The coach smiled a trifle sheepishly. “Oh, well, I don’t care -what you do with him,” he declared. “Chuck him down the well if you -like. No reason why we should toady to him, and that’s a fact. I only -thought that--” - -“Right-o!” laughed Russell. “Leave him to me, sir. Can’t sell you a -bicycle then?” - -“Huh,” answered Mr. Cade, moving toward the door, “if you supply the -team with its outfits and stuff this fall I guess you won’t need to -sell me a bicycle to show a profit! See you to-morrow, Cap!” - -In front of the store, under the gayly-hued escutcheon bearing the -legend: Sign of the Football, Mr. Cade paused to shake hands with -a tall, thin youth with curly brown hair above gray eyes, a rather -large nose and a broad mouth who, subsequent to the football coach’s -departure, entered the store hurriedly, announcing as he did so: “They -can’t find it, Rus! The blamed thing’s just plain vanished. What’ll we -do? Telegraph or what?” - -“I’ll write them a letter,” replied Russell calmly. “I dare say the -stuff will show up to-morrow.” - -“Sure,” agreed Stick Patterson sarcastically. “It’s been turning up -to-morrow for three days and it might as well go on turning-- What was -Johnny after?” - -“Just wanted to talk over a few things. Give me a hand with this truck, -will you? I want to get in an hour’s practice before supper. Bring some -more tags along. Where’s the invoice? Can you see it?” - -“Yes, and so could you if you weren’t sitting on it. My, but it’s hot -over in that office! I suppose Johnny wasn’t awfully enthused over the -outlook, eh?” - -“No-o, but he brought some good news, Stick. Ever hear of Gordon -Renneker?” - -“No, who’s he?” - -“He’s a gentleman who played football last year down on Long Island -with the Castle City High School team. Won everything in sight, I -think.” - -“Who did? Runniger?” - -“The team did. Renneker played guard; right guard, I guess; and got -himself talked about like a moving picture hero. Some player, they say. -Anyway, he’s coming here this fall.” - -“Oh, joy! I’ll bet you anything you like he’ll turn out a lemon, like -that chap Means, or whatever his name was, two years ago. Remember? -The school got all het up about him. He was the finest thing that ever -happened--until he’d been around here a couple of weeks. After that no -one ever heard of him. He didn’t even hold a job with the second!” - -“I guess Renneker’s in a different class,” responded Russell. “They put -him down on the All-Scholastic last fall, anyway, Stick.” - -“All right. Hope he turns out big. But I never saw one of these stars -yet that didn’t have something wrong with him. If he really could play, -why, he was feeble-minded. Or if he had all his brains working smooth -he had something else wrong with him. No stars in mine, thanks! Shove -the ink over here. How about dressing the windows? Want me to do it?” - -“Sure. Want you to do everything there is to be done, beginning with -twelve o’clock midnight to-night. That’s the last. Pile them up and -let’s get out of here. It’s after five. If you’ll come over to the -field with me for an hour I’ll buy your supper, Stick. And the exercise -will do you good!” - - - - -CHAPTER II - -TWO IN A TAXI - - -Something over eighteen hours later the morning train from New York -pulled up at Alton station and disgorged a tumultuous throng of youths -of all sizes and of all ages between twelve and twenty. They piled -down from the day coaches and descended more dignifiedly from the two -parlor cars to form a jostling, noisy mob along the narrow platform. -Suit-cases, kit-bags, valises, tennis rackets, golf clubs were -everywhere underfoot. Ahead, from the baggage car, trunks crashed or -thudded to the trucks while an impatient conductor glanced frowningly -at his watch. Behind the station the brazen clanging of the gongs on -the two special trolley cars punctuated the babel, while the drivers -of taxicabs and horse-drawn vehicles beckoned invitingly for trade -and added their voices to the general pandemonium. Then, even as -the train drew on again, the tumult lessened and the throng melted. -Some few of the arrivals set forth afoot along Meadow street, having -entrusted their hand luggage to friends traveling by vehicle. A great -many more stormed the yellow trolley cars, greeting the grinning crews -familiarly as Bill or Mike, crowding through the narrow doors and -battling good-naturedly for seats. The rest, less than a score of them, -patronized the cabs and carriages. - -Leonard Grant was of the latter. As this was his first sight of Alton -he decided that it would be wise to place the responsibility of -delivering himself and a bulging suit-case to Alton Academy on the -shoulders of one who knew where the Academy was, even if it was to cost -a whole half-dollar! The taxi was small but capable of accommodating -four passengers at least, and when Leonard had settled himself therein -it became evident that the driver of the vehicle had no intention -of leaving until the accommodations were more nearly exhausted. He -still gesticulated and shouted, while Leonard, his suit-case up-ended -between his knees, looked curiously about and tried to reconcile the -sun-smitten view of cheap shops and glaring yellow brick pavement -with what he had learned of Alton from the Academy catalogue. Judging -solely from what he now saw, he would have concluded that the principal -industries of the town were pressing clothes and supplying cheap meals. -He was growing sensible of disappointment when a big kit-bag was thrust -against his knees and a second passenger followed it into the cab. - -“Mind if I share this with you?” asked the new arrival. He had a -pleasant voice, and the inquiry was delivered in tones of the most -perfect politeness, but something told Leonard that the big fellow -who was making the cushion springs creak protestingly really cared -not a whit whether Leonard minded or not. Leonard as courteously -replied in the negative, and in doing so he had his first glimpse of -his companion. He was amazingly good-looking; perhaps fine-looking -would be the better term, for it was not only that his features were -as regular as those on a Greek coin, but they were strong, and the -smooth tanned skin almost flamboyantly proclaimed perfect health. In -fact, health and physical strength fairly radiated from the chap. He -was tall, wide-shouldered, deep-chested, and yet, in spite of his -size, which made Leonard feel rather like a pygmy beside him, you were -certain that there wasn’t an ounce of soft flesh anywhere about him. -He had dark eyes and, although Leonard couldn’t see it just then, dark -hair very carefully brushed down against a well-shaped head. He was -dressed expensively but in excellent taste: rough brownish-gray tweed, -a linen-colored silk shirt with collar to match, a plain brown bow-tie, -a soft straw hat, brown sport shoes and brown silk socks. The watch on -his wrist was plainly expensive, as were the gold-and-enamel links in -his soft cuffs. What interested Leonard Grant more than these details -of attire, however, was the sudden conviction that he knew perfectly -well who his companion was--if only he could remember! - -Meanwhile, evidently despairing of another fare, the driver climbed to -his seat and set forth with loud grinding of frayed gears, cleverly -manipulating the rattling cab around the end of the nearer trolley car -and dodging a lumbering blue ice-wagon by a scant four inches. Then the -cab settled down on the smooth pavement and flew, honking, along Meadow -street. - -“Are you an Alton fellow?” inquired Leonard’s companion as they emerged -from the jam. He spoke rather slowly, rather lazily, enunciating each -word very clearly. Leonard couldn’t have told why he disliked that -precision of speech, but he did somehow. - -“Yes,” he answered. “And I suppose you are.” - -The other nodded. There was nothing really supercilious about that -nod; it merely seemed to signify that in the big chap’s judgment -the question was not worthy a verbal reply. As he nodded he let his -gaze travel over Leonard and then to the scuffed and discolored and -generally disreputable suit-case, a suit-case that, unlike the kit-bag -nearby, was not distinguished by bravely colored labels of travel. -The inspection was brief, but it was thorough, and when it had ended -Leonard knew perfectly that no detail of his appearance had been -missed. He became uncomfortably conscious of his neat but well-worn -Norfolk suit, his very unattractive cotton shirt, his second-season -felt hat, his much-creased blue four-in-hand tie, which didn’t -match anything else he had on, and his battered shoes whose real -condition the ten-cent shine he had acquired in the New York station -couldn’t disguise. It was evident to him that, with the inspection, -his companion’s interest in him had died a swift death. The big, -outrageously good-looking youth turned his head toward the lowered -window of the speeding cab and not again did he seem aware of Leonard’s -presence beside him. - -Leonard didn’t feel any resentment. The big fellow was a bit of a -swell, and he wasn’t. That was all there was to it. Nothing to be -peeved at. Doubtless there’d be others of the same sort at the Academy, -and Leonard neither expected to train with them or wanted to. What did -bother him, though, was the persistent conviction that somewhere or -other he had seen the big chap before, and all the way along Meadow -street he stole surreptitious glances at the noble profile and racked -his mind. So deep was he in this occupation that he saw little of the -town; which was rather a pity, since it had become far more like his -preconceived conception of it now; and the cab had entered the Meadow -street gate of the Academy grounds and was passing the first of the -buildings before he was aware that he had reached his destination. He -would have been more interested in that first building had he known -that it was Haylow Hall and that he was destined to occupy a certain -room therein whose ivy-framed window stared down on him as he passed. - -The driver, following custom, pulled up with disconcerting suddenness -at the entrance of Academy Building, swung off his seat, threw open -the door on Leonard’s side and wrested the battered suit-case from -between the latter’s legs. Then he as swiftly transferred Leonard’s -half-dollar from the boy’s fingers to his pocket and grabbed for the -distinguished kit-bag beyond. Leonard, unceremoniously thrust into -a noonday world dappled with the shadows of lazily swaying branches -and quite unfamiliar, took up his bag and instinctively ascended -the steps. There were other youths about him, coming down, going up -or just loitering, but none heeded him. Before he reached the wide, -open doorway he paused and looked back. Straight away and at a slight -descent traveled a wide graveled path between spreading trees, its far -end a hot blur of sunlight. At either side of the main path stretched -green sward, tree dotted, to the southern and northern boundaries of -the campus. Here and there a group of early arrivals were seated or -stretched in the shade of the trees, coolly colorful blots against the -dark green of the shadowed turf. Two other paths started off below him, -diverging, one toward a handsome building which Leonard surmised to be -Memorial Hall, holding the library and auditorium, the other toward the -residence of the Principal, Doctor Maitland McPherson, or, in school -language, “Mac.” Each of these structures stood close to the confines -of the campus; the other buildings were stretched right and left, -toeing the transverse drive with military precision; Haylow and Lykes, -dormitories, on the south flank; Academy Building in the center: Upton -and Borden, dormitories, too, completing the rank. Somewhere to the -rear, as Leonard recalled, must be the gymnasium and the place where -they fed you; Lawrence Hall, wasn’t it? Well, this looked much more -like what he had expected, and he certainly approved of it. - -He went on into the restful gloom of the corridor, his eyes for the -moment unequal to the sudden change. Then he found the Office and took -his place in the line before the counter. He had to wait while three -others were disposed of, and then, just as his own turn came, he heard -at the doorway the pleasant, leisurely voice of his late companion in -the cab. There was another boy with him, a tall, nice-appearing chap, -who was saying as they entered: “You’re in Upton, with a fellow named -Reilly, who plays half for us. It’s a good room, Renneker, and you’ll -like Red, I’m sure.” - -“Thanks.” The other’s voice was noncommittal. - -Leonard, moving past the desk, turned swiftly and stared with surprise -and incredulity. He remembered now. Last November he had gone up to -Philadelphia to see a post-season football game between a local team -and an eleven from Castle City, Long Island. The visitors had won by -the margin of one point after a slow and gruelling contest. Leonard’s -seat had been close to the visiting team’s bench and a neighbor had -pointed out to him the redoubtable Renneker and told him tales of -the big fellow’s prowess. Leonard had had several good looks at the -Castle City star and had admired him, just as, later, he had admired -his playing. Renneker had proved all that report had pictured him: a -veritable stone wall in defense, a battering ram in attack. He had -worn down two opponents, Leonard recalled, and only the final whistle -had saved a third from a like fate. As Leonard had played the guard -position himself that fall on his own high school team he watched -Renneker’s skill and science the more interestedly. And so this was -Renneker! Yes, he remembered now, although in Philadelphia that day the -famous player had been in togs and had worn a helmet. It is always a -satisfaction to finally get the better of an obstinate memory, and for -the first moment or two succeeding his victory Leonard was so immersed -in that satisfaction that he failed to consider what the arrival -of Gordon Renneker at Alton Academy would mean to his own football -prospects. When he did give thought to that subject his spirits fell, -and, rescuing his suit-case, he went out in search of Number 12 Haylow -Hall with a rueful frown on his forehead. - -Leonard was only seventeen, with little more than the size and weight -belonging to the boy of that age, and he had told himself all along -that it was very unlikely he would be able to make the Alton team that -fall. But now he realized that, in spite of what he had professed to -believe, he had really more than half expected to win a place on the -eleven this season. After all, he had done some pretty good work last -year, and the high school coach back in Loring Point had more than -once assured him that by this fall he ought to be able to pit himself -against many a lineman older and heavier. “Get another twenty pounds on -you, Len,” Tim Walsh had said once, “and there’s not many that’ll be -able to stand up to you in the line. I’ll give you two years more, son, -and then I’ll be lookin’ for your name in the papers. There’s lots of -fellows playing guard that has plenty below the neck, but you’ve got it -above, too, see? Beef and muscle alone didn’t ever win a battle. It was -brains as did it. Brains and fight. And you’ve got both, I’ll say that -for you!” - -And then, just a week ago, when Leonard had gone to bid Tim good-by, -the little coach had said: “I’m sorry to lose you, Len, but you’ll be -getting a bigger chance where you’re going. Sure. And you’ll be getting -better handlin’, too. Take those big schools, why, they got trainers -that knows their business, Len, and you’ll be looked after close and -careful. Here a fellow has to do his own trainin’, which means he don’t -do none, in spite of all I say to him. Sure. You’ll do fine, son. Well, -so long. Don’t put your name to nothin’ without you read it first. And -don’t forget what I been tellin’ you, Len: get ’em before they get you!” - -Well, he hadn’t put on that twenty pounds yet, for in spite of all -his efforts during the summer--he had gone up to his uncle’s farm and -worked in the field and lived on the sort of food that is supposed to -build bone and tissue--he was only seven pounds heavier than when he -had weighed himself a year ago. And now here was this fellow Renneker -to further dim his chances. Leonard sighed as he turned in at the -doorway of the dormitory building. If there were eleven guards on a -football team he might stand a show, he thought disconsolately, but -there were only two, and one of the two would be Gordon Renneker! He -wondered what his chance with the scrubs would be! - -He tugged his heavy suit-case up one flight of stairs in Haylow and -looked for a door bearing the numerals 12. He found it presently, -cheered somewhat to observe that it was toward the campus side of the -building. It was closed, and a card thumb-tacked to the center bore the -inscription, “Mr. Eldred Chichester Staples.” Leonard read the name a -second time. That “Chichester” annoyed him. To have a roommate named -Eldred might be borne, but “Chichester”-- He shook his head gloomily as -he turned the knob and pushed the door open. It seemed to him that life -at Alton Academy wasn’t starting out very well for him. - -He was a bit relieved to find the room empty, although it was evident -enough that Eldred Chichester Staples had already taken possession. -There were brushes and toilet articles atop one of the two slim -chiffoniers, books on the study table, photographs tacked to the -wainscoting, a black bag reposing on a chair by the head of the -left-hand bed, a pair of yellow silk pajamas exuding from it. Leonard -set his own bag down and walked to the windows. There were two of -them, set close together, and they looked out into the lower branches -of a maple. Directly below was the brick foot-path and the gravel -road--and, momentarily, the top of an automobile retreating toward the -Meadow street gate. Some fortunate youth had probably arrived in the -family touring car. Leonard had to set one knee on a comfortably broad -window-seat to get the view, and when he turned away his knee swept -something from the cushion to the floor. Rescuing it, he saw that it -was a block of paper, the top sheet bearing writing done with a very -soft pencil. With no intention of doing so, he read the first words: -“Lines on Returning to My Alma Mater.” He sniffed. So that was the sort -this fellow Chichester was! Wrote poetry! Gosh! He tossed the tablet -back to the window-seat. Then the desire to know how bad the effort -might be prompted him to pick it up and, with a guilty glance toward -the door, read further. There were many erasures and corrections, but -he made out: - - “Oh, classic shades that through the pleasant years - Have sheltered me from gloomy storm and stress, - See on my pallid cheeks the happy tears - That tell a tale of banished loneliness.” - -“What sickening rot!” muttered Leonard. But he went on. - - “Back to your tender arms! My tired feet - Stand once again where they so safely stood. - Could I want fairer haven, fate more sweet? - Could I? _Oh, boy, I’ll say I could!_” - -Leonard re-read the last line doubtfully. Then he pitched the effusion -violently back to the cushion. - -“Huh!” he said. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -ENTER MR. ELDRED CHICHESTER STAPLES - - -Eldred Chichester Staples had not arrived by the time Leonard had -unpacked his bag. His trunk, which was to have joined him inside an -hour, according to the disciple of Ananias who had accepted his claim -check, had not appeared, and, since it was dinner time now, Leonard -washed, re-tied his scarf, used a whisk brush rather perfunctorily -and descended the stairs in search of food. It wasn’t hard to find -Lawrence Hall. All he had to do was follow the crowd, and, although the -entire assemblage of some four hundred students was not by any means -yet present, there were enough on hand to make a very good imitation -of a crowd. Leonard endured some waiting before he was assigned a -seat, but presently he was established at a table occupied by five -others--there were seats for four more, but they weren’t claimed until -supper time--and was soon enjoying his first repast at Alton. The food -was good and there was plenty of it, but none too much for the new boy, -for his breakfast, partaken of at home before starting the first leg -of his journey to New York City, was scarcely a memory. He followed -the example of his right-hand neighbor and ordered “seconds” of the -substantial articles of the menu and did excellently. Towards dessert -he found leisure to look about him. - -Lawrence Hall was big and airy and light, and although it accommodated -more than twenty score, including the faculty, the tables were not -crowded together and there was an agreeable aspect of space. The -fellows about him appeared to be quite the usual, normal sort; although -later on Leonard made the discovery that there was a certain sameness -about them, somewhat as though they had been cut off the same piece of -goods. This sameness was rather intangible, however; he never succeeded -in determining whether it was a matter of looks, manner or voice; and -I doubt if any one else could have determined. Dinner was an orderly -if not a silent affair. There was an ever-continuing rattle of dishes -beneath the constant hum of voices and the ripples of laughter. Once a -dish fell just beyond the screen that hid the doors to the kitchen, and -its crash was hailed with loud hand-clapping from every quarter. After -awhile the scraping of chairs added a new note to the pleasant babel, -and, contributing his own scrape, Leonard took his departure. - -He had seen a notice in the corridor of Academy Building announcing -the first football practice for three o’clock, and he meant to be on -hand, but more than an hour intervened and he wondered how to spend -it. The question was solved for him when he reached the walk that led -along the front of the dormitories, for there, before the entrance of -Haylow, a piled motor truck was disgorging trunks. His own proved to -be among them, and he followed it upstairs and set to work. It wasn’t -a very large trunk, nor a very nobby one, having served his father for -many years, before falling to Leonard, and he was quite satisfied that -his room-mate continued to absent himself. He emptied it of his none -too generous wardrobe, hung his clothes in his closet or laid them in -the drawers of his chiffonier, arranged his small belongings before the -mirror or on the table and finally, taking counsel of a strange youth -hurrying past in the corridor, lugged the empty trunk to the store-room -in the basement. Then, it now being well past the half-hour, he changed -into an ancient suit of canvas, pulled on a pair of scuffed shoes and -set forth for the field. - -The hot weather still held, and, passing the gravel tennis courts, a -wave of heat, reflected from the surface, made him gasp. The gridiron, -when he reached it, proved to have suffered in many places from the -fortnight of unseasonable weather and lack of rain. Half a dozen -fellows, dressed for play, were laughingly squabbling for a ball near -the center of the field, and their cleats, digging into the dry sod, -sent up a cloud of yellow dust. Early as he was, Leonard found at -least a score of candidates ahead of him. Many of them had, perhaps -wisely, scorned the full regalia of football and had donned old flannel -trousers in lieu of padded canvas. A perspiring youth with a very -large board clip was writing busily in the scant shade of the covered -stand, and a short, broadly-built man in trousers and a white running -shirt, from which a pair of bronze shoulders emerged massively, was -beside him. The latter was, Leonard concluded, the coach. He looked -formidable, with that large countenance topped by an alarming growth -of black hair, and Leonard recalled diverse tales he had heard or read -of the sternness and even ferocity of professional football coaches. -Evidently football at Alton Academy was going to prove more of a -business than football at Loring Point High School! - -This reflection was interrupted by a voice. A large youth with rather -pale blue eyes that, nevertheless, had a remarkable sparkle in them -had come to a stop at Leonard’s elbow. “I’ve accumulated seventeen -pounds this summer,” the chap was saying, “and it cost the dad a lot -of good money. And now--” his blue eyes turned from Leonard and fell -disapprovingly on the sun-smitten gridiron--“now I’m going to lose the -whole blamed lot in about sixty minutes.” He looked to Leonard again -for sympathy. Leonard smiled doubtfully. It was difficult to tell -whether the stranger spoke in fun or earnest. - -“If it comes off as easy as that,” he replied, “I guess you don’t want -it.” Looking more closely at the chap, he saw that, deprived of those -seventeen pounds, he would probably be rather rangy; large still, but -not heavy. Leonard judged that he was a backfield candidate; possibly a -running half; he looked to be fast. - -“I suppose not,” the fellow agreed in doubtful tones. “Maybe it isn’t -losing the weight that worries me so much as losing it so quick. You -know they say that losing a lot of weight suddenly is dangerous. -Suppose it left me in an enfeebled condition!” - -Now Leonard knew that the chap was joking, and he ventured a laugh. -“Maybe you’d better not risk it,” he said. “Why not wait until -to-morrow. It might be cooler then.” - -“I would,” replied the other gravely, “only Johnny rather leans on me, -you know. I dare say he’d be altogether at a loss if I deserted him -to-day. Getting things started is always a bit of a trial.” - -“I see. I suppose Johnny is the coach, and that’s him up there.” -Leonard nodded in the direction of the black-haired man on the stand. - -“Him or he,” answered the other gently. “You’re a new fellow, I take -it. Fresh?” - -Leonard, nettled by the correction, answered a bit stiffly, “Sophomore.” - -The tall youth gravely extended a hand. “Welcome,” he said. “Welcome to -the finest class in the school.” - -Leonard shook hands, his slight resentment vanishing. “I suppose that -means that you’re a soph, too.” - -The fellow nodded. “So far,” he assented. Then he smiled for the first -time, and after that smile Leonard liked him suddenly and thoroughly. -“If you ask me that again after mid-year,” he continued, “you may get -a different answer. Well, I guess I’d better go up and get Johnny -started. He’s evidently anxious about me.” He nodded once more and -moved past Leonard and through the gate to the stand. Leonard had not -noticed any sign of anxiety on the coach’s countenance, but it wasn’t -to be denied that the greeting between the two was hearty. Leonard’s -new acquaintance seated himself at the coach’s side and draped his long -legs luxuriously over the back of the seat in front. The youth with -the clip looked up from his writing and said something and the others -threw their heads back and laughed. Leonard was positively relieved to -discover that the coach could laugh like that. He couldn’t be so very -ferocious, after all! - -The trainer appeared, followed by a man trundling a wheelbarrow laden -with paraphernalia. The throng of candidates increased momentarily -along the side-line and a few hardy youths, carrying coats over arms, -perched themselves on the seats to look on. Leonard again turned to -observe the coach and found that gentleman on his feet and extending -his hand to a big chap in unstained togs. The two shook hands, and then -the big fellow turned his head to look across the field, and Leonard -saw that he was Gordon Renneker. A fifth member had joined the group, -and him Leonard recognized as the boy who had accompanied Renneker into -the office. Leonard surmised now that he was the captain: he had read -the chap’s name but had forgotten it. After a moment of conversation, -during which the other members of the group up there seemed to be -giving flattering attention to Renneker’s portion, the five moved -toward the field, and a minute later the business of building a -football team had begun. - -Coach Cade made a few remarks, doubtless not very different from -those he had made at this time of year on many former occasions, -was answered with approving applause and some laughter and waved a -brown hand. The group of some seventy candidates dissolved, footballs -trickled away from the wheelbarrow and work began. Leonard made one of -a circle of fifteen or sixteen other novices who passed a ball from -hand to hand and felt the sun scorching earnestly at the back of his -neck. Later, in charge of a heavy youth whose name Leonard afterwards -learned was Garrick, the group was conducted further down the field -and was permitted to do other tricks with the ball--two balls, to be -exact. They caught it on the bound, fell on it and snuggled it to -their perspiring bodies and then again, while they recovered somewhat -of their breath, passed it from one to another. In other portions of -the field similar exercises were going on with other actors in the -parts, while, down near the further goal balls were traversing the -gridiron, propelled by hand or toe. Garrick was a lenient task-master, -and breathing spells were frequent, and yet, even so, there were many -in Leonard’s squad who were just about spent when they were released -to totter back to the benches and rinse their parched mouths with warm -water from the carboy which, having been carefully deposited an hour -ago in the shade of the wheelbarrow, was now enjoying the full blaze of -the westing sun. Leonard, his canvas garments wet with perspiration, -his legs aching, leaned against the back of the bench and wondered why -he wanted to play football! - -Presently he forgot his discomforts in watching the performance of -a squad of fellows who were trotting through a signal drill. Last -year’s regulars these, he supposed; big, heavy chaps, most of them; -fellows whose average age was possibly eighteen, or perhaps more. The -quarterback, unlike most of the quarters Leonard had had acquaintance -with, was a rather large and weighty youth with light hair and a -longish face. His name, explained Leonard’s left-hand neighbor on -the bench, was Carpenter. He had played on the second team last year -and was very likely to prove first-choice man this fall. He was, the -informant added admiringly, a corking punter. Leonard nodded. Secretly -he considered Mr. Carpenter much too heavy for a quarterback’s job. The -day’s diversions ended with a slow jog around the edge of the gridiron. -Then came showers and a leisurely dressing; only Leonard, since his -street clothes were over in Number 12 Haylow, had his shower in the -dormitory and was wearily clothing himself in clean underwear and a -fresh shirt when the door of the room was unceremoniously opened and he -found himself confronted by a youth whose countenance was strangely -familiar and whom, his reason told him, was Eldred Chichester Staples, -his poetic roommate. Considering it later, Leonard wondered why he had -not been more surprised when recognition came. All he said was: “Well, -did you get rid of the whole seventeen?” - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -LEONARD GETS PROMOTION - - -Eldred Chichester Staples appeared to be no more surprised than -Leonard. He closed the door, with the deftness born of long practice, -with his left foot, sailed his cap to his bed and nodded, thrusting -hands into the pockets of his knickers. - -“The whole seventeen,” he answered dejectedly. “Couldn’t you tell it by -a glance at my emaciated frame?” - -Leonard shook his head. “You look to me just hungry,” he said. - -“Slim” Staples chuckled and reposed himself in a chair, thrusting his -long legs forward and clasping lean, brown hands across his equator. -“Your name must be Grant,” he remarked. “Where from, stranger?” - -“Loring Point, Delaware.” - -“We’re neighbors then. My home’s in New Hampshire. Concord’s the town.” - -“Isn’t that where the embattled farmers stood and--and fired--er--” - -“The shot that was heard around the world? No, General, you’ve got -the dope all wrong. That was another Concord. There aren’t any farmers -in my town. Come to think of it, wasn’t it Lexington, Massachusetts, -where the farmers took pot-shots at the Britishers? Well, never mind. I -understand that the affair was settled quite amicably some time since. -Glad to be here, General?” - -“I think so. Thanks for the promotion, though. I’m usually just ‘Len.’” - -“Oh, that’s all right. No trouble to promote you. What does ‘Len’ stand -for?” - -“Leonard.” - -“Swell name. You’ve got the edge on the other Grant. Ulysses sounds -like something out of the soda fountain. Well, I hope we’ll hit it off -all right. I’m an easy-going sort, General; never much of a scrapper -and hate to argue. Last year, over in Borden, I roomed with a chap -named Endicott. Dick was the original arguer. He could start with -no take-off at all and argue longer, harder and faster than any one -outside a court of law. I was a great trial to him, I suspect. If he -said Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote ‘The Merchant of Venice’ I just said -‘Sure, Mike’ and let it go at that. Arguing was meat and drink to that -fellow.” - -“And what became of him? I mean, why aren’t you--” - -“Together this year? He didn’t come back. You see, he spent so much -time in what you might call controversy that he didn’t get leisure for -studying. So last June faculty told him that he’d failed to pass and -that if he came back he’d have about a million conditions to work off. -He did his best to argue himself square, but faculty beat him out. -After all, there was only one of him and a dozen or so faculty, and it -wasn’t a fair contest. At that, I understand they won by a very slight -margin!” - -“Hard luck,” laughed Leonard. “I dare say he was a star member of the -debating club, if there is one here.” - -“There is, but Dick never joined. He said they were amateurs. What do -you say to supper? Oh, by the way, you were out for football, weren’t -you? What’s your line?” - -“I’ve played guard mostly.” - -“Guard, eh?” Slim looked him over appraisingly. “Sort of light, aren’t -you?” - -“I guess so,” allowed Leonard. “Of course, I don’t expect to make the -first; that is, this year.” - -Slim grinned wickedly. “No, but you’ll be fit to tie if you don’t. Take -me now. Last year I was on the second. Left end. I’m only a soph, and -sophs on the big team are as scarce as hen’s teeth. So, of course, I -haven’t the ghost of a show and absolutely no hope of making it. But -if I don’t there’s going to be a heap of trouble around here!” - -“Well, I suppose I have a sneaking hope,” acknowledged Leonard, smiling. - -“Sure. Might as well be honest with yourself. As for playing guard, -well, if you got hold of a suit about three sizes too large for you, -stuffed it out with cotton-batting and put heel-lifts in your shoes you -might stand a show. Or you might if it wasn’t for this fellow Renneker. -I dare say you’ve heard about him? He’s ab-so-lutively sure of one -guard position or the other. And then there’s Smedley and Squibbs and -Raleigh and Stimson and two-three more maybe If I were you, General, -I’d switch to end or quarter.” - -“Oh, I wouldn’t want to elbow you out,” laughed Leonard. - -“That’s right.” Slim grinned. “Try quarter then. We’ve got only two in -sight so far.” - -Leonard shook his head. “Guard’s my job,” he said. “I’ll plug along at -it. I might get on the second, I dare say. And next year-- The trouble -is, I can’t seem to grow much, Staples!” - -“Better call me ‘Slim.’ Everybody else does. Well, you know your own -business best. Only, if you tell Johnny that you belong to the Guard’s -Union and that the rules won’t allow you to play anything else, why, -I’m awfully afraid that the only thing you’ll get to guard will be the -bench! Let’s go to chow.” - -At the door of the dining hall they parted, for Slim’s table was not -Leonard’s. “But,” said the former, “I guess we can fix that to-morrow. -There are a couple of guys at our table that don’t fit very well. I’ll -arrange with one of them to switch. Care to go over to Mac’s this -evening? Being a newcomer, you’re sort of expected to. They’ll be -mostly freshies, but we don’t have to stay long. I’ll pick you up at -the room about eight.” - -Under Slim’s guidance Leonard went across to the Principal’s house at -a little after the appointed hour and took his place in the line that -led through the front portal and past where Doctor McPherson and Mrs. -McPherson were receiving. Slim introduced the stranger and then hustled -him away into the library. “Might as well do it all up brown,” he -observed sotto voce. “Met any of the animals yet?” - -“Animals?” repeated Leonard vaguely. - -“Faculty,” explained Slim. “All right. We’ll find most of ’em in here. -They can see the dining room from here, you’ll observe, and so they -sort of stand around, ready to rush the minute the flag goes down. Not -so many here yet. Try to look serious and intellectual; they like it. -Mr. Screven, I want you to meet my friend Grant. General, this is Mr. -Screven. And Mr. Metcalf. Mr. Metcalf wrote the French and Spanish -languages, General.” - -“If I had, Staples, I’d have written them more simply, so you could -learn them,” replied the instructor with a twinkle. - -“_Touche!_” murmured Slim. “Honest, though, I wasn’t so rotten, was I, -sir?” - -“You might have been much worse, Staples. Don’t ask me to say more.” - -“Well, I’ll make a real hit with you this year, sir. They say Sophomore -French is a cinch.” - -“I trust you’ll find it so,” replied Mr. Metcalf genially. “Where is -your home, Mr. Grant?” - -Presently Slim’s hand tugged him away to meet Mr. Tarbot and Mr. -Kincaid and Mr. Peghorn, by which time Leonard couldn’t remember which -was which, although Slim’s running comment, en route from one to -another, was designed to aid his friend’s memory. “Peghorn’s physics,” -appraised Slim. “You won’t have him, not this year. He’s a bit deaf. -Left ear’s the best one. Don’t let him nail you or he’ll talk you to -death. Here we are.” - -There were others later, but Leonard obtained sustenance before meeting -them, for Slim so skillfully maneuvered that when the dining room -doors were thrown open only a mere half-dozen guests beat him to the -table. To the credit of the faculty be it said that Mr. Kincaid only -lost first place by a nose. The refreshments were satisfactory if not -elaborate and Slim worked swiftly and methodically, and presently, -their plates well piled with sandwiches, cake and ice-cream, the two -retired to a corner. The entering class was large that fall and, since -not a few of the other classes were well represented, the Doctor’s -modest residence was crowded. Slim observed pessimistically that he had -never seen a sorrier looking lot of freshies. - -“How about last year?” asked Leonard innocently. - -“The entering class last year,” replied Slim with dignity, “was -remarkably intelligent and--um--prepossessing. Every one spoke of it. -Even members of the class themselves noticed it. Want another slice of -cake?” - -Leonard rather pitied some of the new boys. They looked so timid and -unhappy, he thought. Most of them had no acquaintances as yet, and -although the faculty members and some of the older fellows worked hard -to put them at their ease they continued looking like lost souls. -Even ice-cream and cake failed to banish their embarrassment. The -Principal’s wife, good soul, haled them from dark corners and talked to -them brightly and cheerfully while she thrust plates of food into their -numbed hands, but so soon as her back was turned they fled nervously -to cover again, frequently losing portions of their refreshments on the -way. Reflecting that even he might do some small part to lighten the -burden of gloom that oppressed them, he broached the subject to Slim -when that youth had returned with another generous wedge of cake. But -Slim shook his head. - -“I wouldn’t,” he said. “Honestly, General, they’re a lot happier left -alone. I’m supposed to be on the welcome committee myself, but I’m -not working at it much. Fact is, those poor fish had a lot rather you -didn’t take any notice of them. They just get red in the face and fall -over their feet if you speak to ’em. I know, for I was one myself last -year!” - -“Somehow,” mused Leonard, “I can’t imagine it.” - -“Can’t you now?” Slim chuckled. “I want you to know that the shrinking -violet hasn’t a thing on me. Chuck your plate somewhere and let’s beat -it. There’s no hope of seconds!” - -Back in Number 12 Haylow they changed to pajamas and lolled by the -window, through which a fair imitation of a cooling breeze occasionally -wandered, and proceeded to get acquainted. It wasn’t hard. By ten -o’clock, when the light went out, they were firm friends and tried. - -The business of settling down consumed several days, and as the Fall -Term at Alton Academy began on a Thursday it was Monday before Leonard -really found himself. Slim was of great assistance to him in the -operation and saved him many false moves and unnecessary steps. As both -boys were in the same class Leonard had only to copy Slim’s schedule -and, during the first day, follow Slim dutifully from one recitation -room to another, at the end of each trip renewing Wednesday evening’s -acquaintance with one or another of the faculty members, though at -a distance. In various other matters Slim was invaluable. Thursday -evening Leonard took his place at Slim’s table and so enlarged his -circle of speaking acquaintances by eight. Several of the occupants -of the board Leonard recognized as football candidates. There was, -for instance, Wells, universally known as “Billy,” heir apparent to -the position of left tackle, and Joe Greenwood, who might fairly be -called heir presumptive to the fullback position, only one Ray Goodwin -thus far showing a better right. There was, also, Leo Falls, who, like -Leonard, was a candidate for guard. Thus, five out of the ten were -football players, a fact which not only made for camaraderie, but -provided a never-failing subject for conversation. Of the others at the -table, two were freshmen, likeable youngsters, Leonard thought; one -was a sober-faced senior named Barton, and the other two were juniors -who, being the sole representatives of their class there, were banded -together in an offensive and defensive alliance that, in spite of its -lack of numbers, was well able to hold its own when the question of -class supremacy was debated. On the whole, they were a jolly set, and -Leonard was thankful to Slim for securing him admission to them; even -though, as Slim reminded him, several of them would be yanked off to -the training table not later than next week. - -What the others thought of Leonard the latter didn’t know, but they -seemed to take to him readily. Perhaps the fact that he was sponsored -by Slim had something to do with it, for Slim, as Leonard soon noted, -was a favorite, not only at his table but throughout the school in -general. (The fact that Slim was President of the Sophomore Class was -something that Leonard didn’t learn until he had been rooming with the -former for nearly three weeks; and then it wasn’t Slim who divulged -it.) I don’t mean to convey the idea that Leonard was unduly exercised -about the impression he made on his new friends, but no fellow can help -wanting to be liked or speculate somewhat about what others think of -him. After a few days, though, he became quite satisfied. By that time -no one at the board was any longer calling him Grant. He was “General.” -Slim’s nickname had struck the popular fancy and gave every sign of -sticking throughout Leonard’s stay at school. - -There wasn’t anything especially striking about the newcomer, unless, -perhaps, it was a certain wholesomeness; which Slim, had he ever -been required to tell what had drawn him to his new chum, would have -mentioned first. Leonard was of average height, breadth and weight. He -had good enough features, but no one would ever have thought to call -him handsome. His hair was of an ordinary shade of brown, straight -and inclined to be unruly around the ears and neck; his eyes were -brown, too, though a shade or two darker; perhaps his eyes were his -best feature, if there was a best, for they did have a sort of faculty -for lighting up when he became interested or deeply amused; his nose -was straight as far as it went, but it stopped a trifle too soon to -satisfy the demands of the artist; his mouth was just like any other -mouth, I suppose; that is, like any other normal mouth; and he had -a chin that went well with his somewhat square jaw, with a scarcely -noticeable elevation in the middle of it that Slim referred to as an -inverted dimple. Just a normal, healthy youngster of sixteen, was -Leonard--sixteen verging closely on seventeen--rather better developed -muscularly than the average boy of his years, perhaps, but with -nothing about him to demand a second glance; or certainly not a third. -He didn’t dress particularly well, for his folks weren’t over-supplied -with wealth, but he managed to make the best of a limited wardrobe and -always looked particularly clean. He was inclined to be earnest at -whatever he set out to do, but he liked to laugh and did it frequently, -and did it in a funny gurgling way that caused others to laugh with -him--and at him. - -He might have made his way into the Junior Class at Alton had he -tutored hard the previous summer, but as he had not known he was going -there until a fortnight before, that wasn’t possible. His presence -at the academy was the unforeseen result of having spent the summer -with his Uncle Emory. Uncle Emory, his mother’s brother, lived up in -Pennsylvania and for many years had displayed no interest in the doings -of his relatives. The idea of visiting Uncle Emory and working for his -board had come to Leonard after Tim Walsh, football coach at the high -school, had mentioned farm work as one of the short paths to physical -development. Rather to the surprise of the rest of the family, Uncle -Emory’s reply to Leonard’s suggestion had been almost cordial. Uncle -Emory had proved much less of the bear than the boy had anticipated -and before long the two were very good friends. By the terms of the -agreement, Leonard was to receive board and lodging and seventy-five -cents a day in return for his services. What he did receive, when the -time for leaving the farm arrived, was ninety-three dollars, being -wages due him, and a bonus of one hundred. - -“And now,” asked Uncle Emory, “what are you doing to do with it?” - -Leonard didn’t know. He was far too surprised to make plans on such -short notice. - -“Well,” continued Uncle Emory, “why don’t you find yourself a good -school that don’t ask too much money and fit yourself for college? I -ain’t claiming that your father’s made a big success as a lawyer, but -you might, and I sort of think it’s in your blood. You show me that you -mean business, Len, and I’ll sort of look out for you, leastways till -you’re through school.” - -So that is the way it had happened, suddenly and unexpectedly and -gorgeously. The hundred and ninety-three dollars, less Leonard’s -expenses home, hadn’t been enough to see him through the year at -Alton, but his father had found the balance that was needed without -much difficulty, and here he was. He knew that this year was provided -for and knew that, if he satisfied Uncle Emory of his earnestness, -there would be two more years to follow. Also, a fact that had not -escaped Leonard, there were scholarship funds to be had if one worked -hard enough. He had already set his mind on winning one of the five -available to Sophomore Class members. As to the Law as a profession, -Leonard hadn’t yet made up his mind. Certainly his father had made no -fortune from it, but, on the other hand, there were men right in Loring -Point who had prospered exceedingly thereby. But that decision could -wait. Meanwhile he meant to study hard, win a scholarship and make good -in the eyes of Uncle Emory. And he meant to play as hard as he worked, -which was an exceedingly good plan, and hadn’t yet discerned any very -good reason for not doing that on the Alton Academy Football Team! - - - - -CHAPTER V - -THE BOY ON THE PORCH - - -He liked the school immensely and the fellows in it. And he liked -the town, with its tree-shaded streets and comfortable old white -houses. A row of the latter faced the Academy from across the asphalt -thoroughfare below the sloping campus, home-like residences set in turf -and gardens, guarded by huge elms and maples. Beyond them began, a -block further east, the stores. One could get nearly anything he wanted -in the two short blocks of West street, without journeying closer to -the center of town. In school parlance this shopping district was known -as Bagdad. Further away one found moving picture houses in variety. -Northward at some distance lay the river, and under certain not too -painful restrictions one might enjoy boating and canoeing. On Sunday -Alton rang with the peeling of church bells and Bagdad was empty of -life save, perhaps, for a shrill-voiced purveyor of newspapers from -whom one could obtain for a dime an eight-section New York paper with -which to litter the floor after the return from church. On that first -Sunday Slim acted as guide and Leonard learned what lay around and -about. They penetrated to the sidewalk-littered foreign quarter beyond -the railroad, where Slim tried modern Greek on a snappily-attired -gentleman who to-morrow would be presiding over a hat cleaning -emporium. The result was not especially favorable. Either Slim’s -knowledge of Greek was too limited or, as he explained it, the other -chap didn’t know his own language. Then they wandered southward, to -the Hill, and viewed the ornate mansions of the newly rich. Here were -displayed tapestry brick and terra cotta, creamy limestone and colorful -tile, pergolas and stained glass, smooth lawns and concrete walks, -immaculate hedges and dignified shrubs. Being a newer part of town, -the trees along the streets were small and threw little shade on the -sun-heated pavement, and this, combined with the fact that to reach the -Hill one had of necessity to negotiate a grade, left the boys rather -out of breath and somewhat too warm for comfort. On the whole, Leonard -liked the older part of Alton much better, and confided the fact to his -companion. - -“So do I,” agreed Slim. “Of course these places up here have a lot of -things the old houses lack; like tennis courts and garages and sleeping -porches; but there’s an old white house on River street, just around -the corner from Academy, that hits me about right. I’ll show it to you -some time. I guess it’s about a hundred years old; more, likely; but, -gee, it’s a corking old place. When I have a house of my own, General, -none of these young city halls or Carnegie libraries for mine! I want -a place that looks as if some one lived in it. Take a squint at that -chocolate brick arrangement over there. Can you imagine any one being -really comfortable in it? Why, if I lived there I’d be always looking -for a bell-hop to spring out on me and grab whatever I had and push me -over to the register so I could sign my name and get a key. That’s a -fine, big porch, but I’ll bet you wouldn’t ever think of sitting out -there on a summer evening in your shirt sleeves and sprinkling water on -that trained mulberry tree!” - -“I don’t believe,” laughed Leonard, “that they put anything as common -as water on that cute thing. They probably have a Mulberry Tree Tonic -or something like that they bathe it in. Say, there is some one on the -porch, just the same, and it looks to me as if he was waving to us.” - -“Why, that’s Johnny McGrath!” said Slim. “Hello, Johnny! That where you -live?” - -“Sure. Come on over!” - -Slim looked inquiringly at Leonard. “Want to go?” he asked in low -tones. “Johnny’s a good sort.” - -Leonard nodded, if without enthusiasm, and Slim led the way across the -ribbon of hot asphalt and up the three stone steps that led, by the -invariable concrete path, to the wide porch. A boy of about Leonard’s -age stood awaiting them at the top of the steps, a round-faced chap -with a nose liberally adorned with freckles and undeniably tip-tilted. -He wore white flannel trousers and a gray flannel coat, and there was a -liberal expanse of gray silk socks exposed above the white shoes. - -“Want you to meet my friend Grant,” said Slim, climbing the wide steps. -“General, this is Johnny McGrath, the only Sinn Feiner in school. What -you been doing to-day, Johnny? Making bombs?” - -Johnny smiled widely and good-humoredly. “You’re the only bum I’ve seen -so far,” he replied. “Come up and cool off.” - -“That’s a rotten pun,” protested Slim, accepting the invitation to sit -down in a comfortable wicker chair. “Say, Johnny, there must be money -in Sinn Feining.” He looked approvingly about the big porch with its -tables and chairs, magazines and flowering plants. “Is this your real -home, or do you just hire this for Sundays?” - -“We’ve been living here going on three years,” answered Johnny. “Ever -since dad made his pile.” He turned to Leonard and indulged in a truly -Irish wink of one very blue eye. “Slim thinks he gets my goat,” he -explained, “but he doesn’t. Sure, I know this is a bit of a change from -The Flats.” - -“The Flats?” repeated Leonard questioningly. - -“That’s what they call it over beyond the Carpet Mills,” explained -Johnny. “Shanty Town, you know; Goatville; see?” - -“Oh, yes! I don’t believe I’ve been there yet.” - -“Well, it isn’t much to look at,” laughed Johnny. “We lived there until -about three years ago. We weren’t as poor as most of them, but there -were six of us in five rooms, Grant. Then dad made his pile and we -bought this place.” Johnny looked about him not altogether approvingly -and shook his head. “It’s fine enough, all right, but, say, fellows, -it’s awfully--what’s the word I seen--saw the other day? Stodgy, that’s -it! I guess it’s going to take us another three years to get used to -it.” - -“He misses having the pig in the parlor,” observed Slim gravely to -Leonard. The latter looked toward Johnny McGrath anxiously, but Johnny -only grinned. - -“’Twas never that bad with us,” he replied, “but I mind the day the -Cleary’s nanny-goat walked in the kitchen and ate up half of dad’s -nightshirt, and mother near killed him with a flat-iron!” - -“Why did she want to kill your father with a flat-iron?” asked Slim -mildly. - -“The goat, I said.” - -“You did not, Johnny. You told us it was a nanny-goat and said your -mother nearly killed ‘him.’ If that doesn’t mean your father--” - -“Well, anyway, I had to lick Terry Cleary before there was peace -between us again,” laughed Johnny. Then his face sobered. “Sure, up -here on the Hill,” he added, “you couldn’t find a scrap if you was -dying!” - -The others had to laugh, Slim ejaculating between guffaws: “Johnny, -you’ll be the death of me yet!” Johnny’s blue eyes were twinkling again -and his broad Irish mouth smiling. - -“It’s mighty queer,” he went on, “how grand some of these neighbors of -ours are up here. Take the Paternos crowd next door here. Sure, six -years ago that old Dago was still selling bananas from a wagon, and -to-day--wow!--the only wagon he rides in is a limousine. And once, soon -after we moved in, mother was in the back yard seeing the maid hung the -clothes right, or something, and there was Mrs. Paternos’ black head -stuck out of an upstairs window, and thinking to be neighborly, mind -you, mother says to her, ‘Good morning, ma’am,’ or something like that, -and the old Eye-talian puts her nose in the air and slams down the -windy--window, I mean!” - -“You’ve got to learn, Johnny,” explained Slim, “that you can’t become -an aristocrat, even in this free country of ours, in less than five -years. That gives you about two to go, son. Be patient.” - -“Patient my eye,” responded Johnny serenely. “It’ll take more than five -years to make aristocrats of the McGraths, for they’re not wanting it. -Just the same, Slim, it makes me sick, the way some folks put on side -just because they’ve been out of the tenements a few years. I guess the -lot of us, and I’m meaning you, too, couldn’t go very many years back -before we’d be finding bananas or lead pipe or something ple-bee-an -like that hanging on the old family tree!” - -“Speak for yourself,” answered Slim with much dignity. “Or speak for -the General here. As for the Stapleses, Johnny, I’d have you know -that we’re descended from Jeremy Staples, who owned the first inn in -Concord, New Hampshire, and who himself served a glass of grog to -General George Washington!” - -“That would be a long time ago,” said Johnny. - -“It would; which is why we can boast of it. If it happened last year -we’d be disclaiming any relationship to the old reprobate.” - -“McGrath’s right,” said Leonard, smiling but thoughtful. “We’re all -descended from trade or something worse. I know a fellow back home -whose several-times-great grandfather was a pirate with Stede Bonnet, -and his folks are as proud of it as anything. If it isn’t impertinent, -McGrath, how did your father make his money?” - -“In the War, like so many others. He was a plumber, you see. He’d gone -into business for himself a few years before and was doing pretty -well. Joe--that’s my oldest brother--was with him. Well, then the War -came and Joe read in the paper where they were going to build a big -cantonment for the soldiers over in Jersey. ‘Why not try to get the job -to put in some of the plumbing?’ says he. ‘Sure, we haven’t a chance,’ -says my dad. ‘’Twill be the big fellows as will get that work.’ But Joe -got a copy of the specifications, or whatever they’re called, and set -down and figured, and finally persuaded the Old Man to take a chance. -So they did, and some surprised they were when they were awarded the -contract! Dad said it was too big for them and they’d have to give some -of it to another, but Joe wouldn’t stand for that. He had a hard time -getting money for the bond, or whatever it was the Government wanted, -but he did it finally, and they did the job and did it honestly. Their -figures were away under the estimate of the other firms, but in spite -of that they made themselves rich. Now I say why isn’t dad as much of -a gentleman as old Pete Paternos? Sure lead pipe’s as clean as rotten -bananas!” - -“That’s just the point,” replied Slim. “The rotten bananas are old and -the lead pipe’s new. Give the lead pipe another two years, Johnny, and -you can slap Paternos on the back and get away with it.” - -“I’m more likely to slap him on the head with a crow-bar,” grumbled -Johnny. Then: “Say, fellows, want some lemonade?” - -“Not for worlds,” answered Slim promptly. “Where is it?” - -“I’ll have Dora make a pitcher in a shake of a lamb’s tail,” said -Johnny eagerly, as he disappeared. Slim smiled over at Leonard and -Leonard smiled back. Then the latter exclaimed protestingly: - -“Just the same, he’s a mighty decent sort, Slim!” - -“Of course he is,” agreed the other calmly. “I told you that across the -street. Johnny’s all right.” - -“Well, then, aren’t you--aren’t you afraid of hurting his feelings? -Talking to him the way you do, I mean.” - -“Not a bit. Johnny knows me, and he knows that what I say is for -the good of his soul. We aristocrats, General, have got to make the -hoi polloi understand that they can’t shove into our sacred circle -off-hand. They’ve got to train for it, old man; work up; go through an -initiation.” - -Leonard observed Slim in puzzlement and doubt. - -“Why,” Slim went on soberly, “what do you suppose old Jeremy Staples -would say if he could see me now hob-nobbing with the son of a plumber? -The poor old rascal would turn over in his grave, General. Bet you he’d -turn over twice!” - -“Oh,” said Leonard, “I thought you meant it!” - -“Who says I don’t? Ah, that sounds mighty cheerful, Johnny! Sure you -didn’t put any arsenic in it? My folks are English on my uncle’s side!” - -“I’d not waste good arsenic on the likes of you,” answered Johnny, -pouring from a frosted glass pitcher. Followed several moments of -deeply appreciative silence during which visitors and host applied -themselves to the straws that emerged from the glasses. Then Slim -sighed rapturously and held his glass out for more. - -“It may be poisoned, Johnny,” he said, “but I’ll take a chance.” - -“Are you at Alton?” Leonard asked presently of his host. - -“Didn’t I tell you he was?” asked Slim in mild surprise. “He certainly -is. Johnny’s the one bright spot on the basket ball team. You’ll never -know the poetry of motion, General, until you’ve seen him toss a -back-hander into the hoop. The only trouble with him is that, true to -his race, he always mistakes a basket ball game for the Battle of the -Boyne. At least, I think I mean the Boyne. Do I, Johnny?” - -“Maybe. I wasn’t there. Anyhow, you’re giving Grant here a wrong idea -of me entirely. I’m the most peaceable lad on the team, Slim Staples, -and you know it.” - -“I know nothing of the sort,” protested Slim stoutly. “All I do know is -that whenever you’re playing the casualties are twice as heavy as when -you’re not. Oh, I know you have a foxy way of handing out the wallops, -and that the referee seldom catches you at it, but facts are facts, -Johnny, and I’m nothing if not factotum.” - -“You’re nothing if not insulting,” corrected Johnny. “Why does he call -you ‘General?’” he continued of Leonard. - -“Why, he hit on that--” Leonard began. - -“Is it possible you never heard of General Grant?” demanded Slim -incredulously. - -“Oh, that’s it? Well,” as Slim stood up to go and Leonard followed his -example, “I’m pleased to have met you. Come again, won’t you? I’ll not -be asking Slim, for he’s too insulting.” - -“Oh, now that I know where you live and what good lemonade you keep -on draught, I’ll come frequently,” said Slim kindly. “Maybe we might -drop around next Sunday afternoon about this time, or a little before. -You’d better make it a point to have plenty of lemons on hand.” - -“Why, if you come we’ll not be without them,” Johnny assured him -sweetly. - -“Fine! And now, before we go, may we see the pig, Johnny?” - -“Sure,” replied the other, relapsing into a rich brogue, “it’s sorry I -am, Slim my darlint, but the pig do be havin’ his afthernoon nap in the -panthry, and he’d be that angry if I was wakin’ him!” - -Going back down the slope of Melrose Avenue Leonard remarked: “He said -there were six of them, Slim. Are there other brothers beside the Joe -he spoke of?” - -“There were,” answered Slim. “There’s one other now, a little chap -about twelve. I don’t know his name.” - -“What happened to the other brother?” - -“Killed in the War,” replied Slim briefly. - -“Oh!” - -“There was a citation,” added Slim. “Johnny says it’s framed and -hanging over his mother’s bed. It’s a lucky thing for the country, -General, that it doesn’t have to look up a fellow’s pedigree before it -can let him fight; what?” - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -THE SEASON BEGINS - - -In spite of Slim’s predictions, Leonard’s calm announcement to -Manager Tenney that he was a candidate for guard on the football team -occasioned no evident surprise. Considering that within forty-eight -hours Tenney had registered the name of a fat and pudgy junior whose -consuming ambition was to play quarterback and had listened to the calm -assurance of a lathe-like youth that he would be satisfied with nothing -save the position of center, the manager’s absence of emotion was not -surprising. Anyhow, Leonard was relieved to find that he was not to -meet opposition at the outset, and took his place in Squad C quite -satisfied. Football practice at Alton Academy differed from the same -occupation at Loring Point High School in at least two essentials, he -decided. It was more systematic and it was a whole lot more earnest. -There was little lost motion during the hour and a half that the -candidates occupied the field. You didn’t stand around waiting for -the coach to remember your existence and think up a new torture, nor, -when the coach was present, did you spend precious minutes in banter. -From the moment of the first “Let’s go!” to the final “That’s all, -fellows!” you had something to do and did it hard, impressed every -instant with the importance of the task set you. Of course, practice -was less amusing, less fun here at Alton. There was no social side to -the gathering. Even after a week of practice Leonard knew almost none -of the fellows he worked with. He did know the names of many, and he -had a “Hello” acquaintance with a half-dozen, but there was no time for -the social amenities. - -He had been put down as a lineman and spent at least a half-hour daily -being instructed in the duties of blocking and charging. Always there -was another half-hour for each squad with the tackling dummies, of -which headless opponents there were two. Generally the balance of the -period was occupied in learning to handle the ball and in running -through a few simple formation plays. In these Leonard was played -anywhere that the assistant coach, usually acting as quarter, fancied. -Generally he was a guard or a tackle, now on this side and now on -that, but on two occasions he found himself cast for a backfield rôle -and trotted up and down the field as a half. On Tuesday afternoon the -first and second squads held the first scrimmage, and by Thursday Coach -Cade had put together a tentative eleven to meet Alton High School -on Saturday. No one was surprised to see Gordon Renneker occupying -the position of right guard, for Renneker’s fame had already spread -throughout the school. - -[Illustration: There was another half-hour for each squad with the -tackling dummies] - -That first engagement was played under a hot sun and with the -temperature hovering around seventy-two when High School kicked off. -Naturally enough, as an exhibition of scientific football it left much -to be desired. High School showed lack of condition and her players -were to be seen stretched on their backs whenever time was called. -Alton appeared of somewhat sterner stuff, but there was no doubt that -half-time came as a welcome interruption even to her. “Johnny” Cade -started Gurley and Emerson at ends, Butler and Wilde at tackles, -Stimson and Renneker at guards and Garrick at center. The backfield -consisted of Carpenter, Goodwin, Kendall and Greenwood. But this -line-up didn’t persist long. Even by the end of the first quarter -“Red” Reilly was at right half and Wells was at right tackle. During -the remainder of the game changes were frequent until, near the end of -the final period, second- and third-string players made up the team. -Coach Cade tried out much unknown material that afternoon, and it -seemed to Leonard that he was the only candidate who hadn’t been given -a chance. As a matter of fact, though, there were some twenty others -in like case, for the squad had not yet been cut. It was when Alton -was presenting her weakest line-up that High School cut loose with her -second bombardment of overhead shots--the first essay, in the second -quarter, had netted her little enough--and secured her lone touchdown. -She failed to add a goal since her line didn’t hold long enough for her -kicker to get the ball away. The final score of the slow and ragged -contest was 23 to 6. Talking it over afterwards in the comparative -coolness of Number 12 Haylow, Slim was pessimistic. Perhaps the fact -that his own efforts during approximately half of the forty minutes of -actual play had not been brilliantly successful colored his mood. - -“We’ve got plenty of material,” pronounced Slim, elevating his -scantily-clad legs to the window-sill, “and I guess it’s average good, -but it’s going to take us a long time to get going this year. You can -see that with half an eye. Look at the army of queers that Johnny tried -out this afternoon. That’s what slows up development, General. Now, -last year we had the makings of a team right at the start. Only three -or four first-string lads, I think, but a perfect gang of experienced -substitutes, to say nothing of second team fellows. Result was that we -started off with a bang and kept going. You bet High School didn’t do -any scoring last season!” - -“But,” objected Leonard, “weren’t you telling me the other day that the -team had an awful slump about the middle of the season, and--” - -“Oh, well, that had nothing to do with the start. Two or three things -accounted for that. What I’m getting at is just this. It’s mighty poor -policy to spend the first two weeks of a football season finding out -that more than half of your material’s no good to you. If I ever coach -a team there’ll be no mob under my feet after the first three or four -days. Thirty men’ll be all I’ll want. If I can’t build a team out of -them, all right. I get out.” - -“Glad that rule doesn’t hold good now,” said Leonard. “If it did I’d be -out of it already.” - -“Well, I don’t know. No, you wouldn’t either! That’s what I’m getting -at. You can play football. You’ve done it for two years. You’ve -had experience. All right. But look at the run of the small fry -that--that’s infesting the field so you have to watch your step to -keep from tramping on ’em. Why, suffering cats, most of ’em won’t be -ready to play football for two years yet! There are chaps out there -who couldn’t stop a ball with their heads! The ball would knock ’em -right over. Well, Johnny gives each of ’em the once-over, and it takes -time. He knows they aren’t going to show anything. It’s just this silly -policy of giving every one a chance to make good. That’s why you’re -sitting on the bench and a bunch of scrawny little would-be’s are -letting High School shove over a score on us.” - -“You may be right,” answered Leonard, “but it seems to me that it’s -only by giving every one a chance to show what he’s good for that you -can be sure of not overlooking something. I’ve seen more than once a -fellow who didn’t look like anything at all at the start of the season -turn into something good later on.” - -“Sure, that happens now and then, but what of it? If the fellow really -has ability he keeps on playing. He goes to the scrubs or one of the -class teams. If he makes good there he mighty soon finds himself yanked -back to the first. And the coach hasn’t wasted a week or two trying to -find out about him.” - -“Well, I guess I’m--I’m conservative, or something,” laughed Leonard, -“for I sort of like a team that starts slow and gets up its speed -gradually. I know that back home our coach used to point us for our -big game, the last one, and all the other games were taken as they -came, more or less. Of course, when we played Delaware Polytechnic we -smoothed out a bit and learned two or three new plays just beforehand, -but we didn’t go out of our way much even for her.” - -“Oh, that’s all right, General. I don’t want to see any team hit its -stride too early. Safe and slow is my motto, too, but that doesn’t mean -you’ve got to get started a fortnight after school opens. Look here, -I’ll bet you that next Saturday Johnny won’t be any nearer settled on -the team’s make-up than he was to-day. Well, of course, he’ll know -about some positions, but he’ll still be experimenting. Rus Emerson’s -the same sort he is, too; has an ingrown conscience or--or sense of -responsibility toward others. If Rus had his way any fellow who could -borrow a pair of football pants could have a week’s try-out!” - -“Who plays us next Saturday?” asked Leonard. - -“Lorimer Academy. They’re a nice crowd of chaps, and they don’t give us -much trouble. Last year, though, they did sort of throw a scare into -us. We got three scores to their two. It was right after that we played -a tie game with Hillsport and went into a jolly slump. Say, that guy -Renneker didn’t show up so mighty wonderful to-day, did you think?” - -“N-no, he looked a bit slow to me. But I guess he hasn’t got used to -the place yet. Either that or he was sort of saving himself.” - -“Saving himself for what?” demanded Slim. - -“Search me.” Leonard smiled. “Maybe he thought there wasn’t much use -working too hard against a weak team like Alton High.” - -Slim shook his head, looking incredulous. “All I know is that the short -time we were in together he was generally ‘on the outside looking in.’ -Rather gives me the impression of being a poser. Still, to-day wasn’t -much of a test; and he’s pretty big and perhaps the heat stalled him -some. Hope he pans out big, for we sure need a corking good guard. -Smedley’s a pippin, and Raleigh isn’t too bad, but we need another. To -look at Renneker you’d expect him to be a hustler, but he didn’t show -it to-day. He was outside most of the plays when I saw him. Not like -Jim Newton. Jim’s always in the middle of it. For a center, Jim’s a -live wire. Doesn’t matter much where the play comes in the line; Jim’s -always sitting on the enemy’s head when the dust clears away! Say, I -wish you’d switch your game, General, and try for tackle or something, -something you’d have a show at.” - -“But you just said,” answered the other demurely, “that the team needed -another good guard.” - -Slim grinned and shook his head. “All right, son, but I’d like to see -you on the team. That’s all.” - -“Think one of us ought to get on, eh?” - -“Huh? Oh, well, there’s something in that, too. I’m not very sure of a -place, and that’s no jolly quip. Gurley’s a good end, worse luck! And -there’s Kerrison, too. But I’ll give them a fight for it. They’ll know -they’ve been working if they beat me out, General! Let’s go and see -what they’re giving us for supper.” - -Leonard met the captain that evening for the first time. Met him -socially, that is to say, Russell Emerson and Billy Wells overtook -Leonard and Slim on their way to the movies. Wells was one of those -Leonard already had a speaking acquaintance with, but Emerson had thus -far remained outside his orbit. Continuing the journey, Leonard fell to -Billy Wells and Rus and Slim walked ahead, but coming home they paired -differently and Leonard found himself conversing with the captain, at -first somewhat embarrassedly. But the football captain was easy to -know, as the saying is, and Leonard soon forgot his diffidence. Of -course, football formed some of the conversation, but Leonard sensed -relief on the other’s part when the subject changed to the pictures -they had just witnessed. After that they talked of other things; the -school, and Leonard’s home in Rhode Island--Rus, it seemed, had never -been farther south than he was now--, and the faculty and some of the -fellows. The captain seemed to take it for granted that his companion -was familiar with the names he mentioned, although as a fact most of -them were new to Leonard. Mention of “Jake,” the trainer, introduced -a laughable story about Jake and a track team candidate, in which -Rus tried to imitate Jake’s brogue. That reminded Leonard of Johnny -McGrath, and he asked Rus if he knew him. - -“Yes, I’ve met him several times,” was the answer. “I’ve been trying to -get him to try football. He’s a very good basket ball player and I’ve a -strong hunch that he’d make a corking half. But his folks, his mother -especially, I believe, object. He had a brother killed in the War, and -his mother is dead set against taking chances with another of them. Too -bad, too, for he’s a fast, scrappy fellow. The good-natured kind, you -know. Plays hard and keeps his temper every minute. There’s a lot in -keeping your temper, Grant.” - -“But I’ve heard of teams being ‘fighting mad’ and doing big things.” - -“Yes, the phrase is common enough, but ‘fighting earnest’ would be -better. Just as soon as a fellow gets really mad he loses his grip more -or less. He makes mistakes of judgment, begins to play ‘on his own.’ -If he gets angry enough he stops being any use to the team. Of course -there are chaps now and then who can work themselves up to a sort of -fighting fury and play great football, but I suspect that those chaps -aren’t really quite as wild as they let on. There’s Billy back there. -He almost froths at the mouth and insults the whole team he’s playing -against, but he never loses anything more than his tongue, I guess. The -old bean keeps right on functioning as per usual. Billy doesn’t begin -to warm up until his opponent double-crosses him or some one hands him -a wallop! By the way, Grant, you’re on the squad, aren’t you? Seems to -me I’ve seen you out at the field.” - -“Yes,” Leonard assented, “I’m trying.” - -“Good! What position?” - -“Guard,” answered Leonard stoutly. - -“Sure?” - -“I beg pardon?” - -Emerson smiled. “I mean, are you certain that’s the position you want? -You look a little light for guard.” - -“I suppose I am,” said Leonard ruefully. “I tried hard to grow last -summer, but I didn’t succeed very well. Our coach back home insists -that I ought to play guard and so I’m sticking to it. Probably I won’t -have much of a show this year, though.” - -“Have you been in a scrimmage yet?” - -“No, I haven’t. I’ve been on Squad C for a week or so. I’ve been at -guard and tackle, and played back, too. Sort of a utility man.” - -“Well, if you’re on C you haven’t done so badly. We’ll have to try you -in the scrimmage some afternoon. To be honest, though, Grant, you’d -have a better chance to get placed at tackle than at guard, for it just -happens that we’re pretty well fixed for guard material this year. -At least, we think so now. We may change our minds later. After all, -a fellow who can play guard ought to fit pretty well into the tackle -position. I dare say you’d rather do that than not get anywhere.” - -“I guess so,” replied Leonard. Then he laughed. “I suppose I’m sort of -stubborn about playing guard, Emerson. I’ve just had it dinned into -me that guard’s my game, and I can’t seem to take kindly to doing -something else. But, as you say, I’d rather play any position at all -than none!” - -“Why, yes. Besides, you don’t have to stick where they put you. I knew -a fellow who started here in his second year as half-back on the scrub -team, went to the first as end the next year and then played a corking -game at center in his senior year. I guess that was an unusual case, -but lots of chaps switch from line to backfield and vice versa. Well, -here’s my hang-out.” The captain paused in front of Lykes. “I’m in 16, -Grant. Come and see me some time, won’t you? Slim knows the way.” - -Slim and Billy Wells joined them and then the latter and Rus Emerson -said good night and went into Lykes. Slim thrust an arm through -Leonard’s as they continued toward their own dormitory. “Well, what -did you and Rus cook up?” he inquired. - -“We settled one or two things; such as dropping you and Gurley to the -second and putting me in at left end.” - -“Fine! Anything else?” - -“Well, he said that if I didn’t like that he’d fix it for me to play -tackle. Of course I told him that guard was my game, and he was awfully -decent about offering to let Renneker go and putting me in at right -guard, but I saw that it would make it a bit awkward for him, and I put -my foot down on it at once.” - -“You would,” said Slim admiringly. “You’ve got a kind heart, General. -I’ll say that for you. I wish,” added Slim feelingly, “I could think of -something else to say for you!” - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -JUST ONE OF THE SUBS - - -It wasn’t until Wednesday of that week that Captain Emerson’s -quasi-promise bore fruit. Then Coach Cade, consulting his note-book, -announced “Lawrence and Grant, tackles.” Leonard wasn’t quite certain -he had heard correctly, but Leo Falls, beside him on the bench, nudged -him into action and he cast off his enveloping gray blanket and picked -up a helmet. - -“Substitutes take the north goal and kick off,” directed the coach. -“All right, Appel! Hurry it up!” - -Leonard trotted out with ten other youths and called to Appel, -substitute quarter in charge: “Where do I go?” he asked. - -“What are you playing?” - -“Tackle.” - -“Well, for the love of lemons, don’t you know your position at -kick-off?” asked Appel impatiently. “Get in there between Squibbs and -Gurley.” - -As, however, Lawrence beat him to that location, Leonard disobeyed -orders and sandwiched himself in at the left side of the line. Then -Garrick kicked off and the scrimmage started. Truth compels me to say -that Leonard did not cover himself with glory during the ten minute -period allowed him. He tried hard enough, but there _is_ a difference -between playing guard and playing tackle, and Leonard was much too -unfamiliar with the subtleties of a tackle’s duties to put up much of a -game. Besides, he was faced by two veterans in the persons of Captain -Emerson at end and Billy Wells at tackle on the first. Raleigh, who -played guard beside him, gave him hurried cues more than once when the -play was headed his way, but that didn’t always prevent him from being -turned in by the truculent Wells while a first team back galloped past -for a gain. On offense Leonard did better, but he couldn’t think of -much to console himself with when the period was over. First had scored -twice, once by a touchdown and once by a field-goal, and the subs had -never got inside the other’s thirty. To add to Leonard’s discomfiture, -he had plainly heard Appel inquire on one occasion, seemingly of the -blue empyrean, and in pained tones, what he had done to be inflicted -with a tackle who couldn’t stop a toy balloon! About the only thing -that Leonard could think of to be thankful for was the fact that -Carpenter had selected the right of the sub’s line for the attack that -had brought the touchdown. It wasn’t much, but it was something! - -With half a dozen others he was sent off to the showers after the -first period, and so he couldn’t see that Cash, who took his place in -the succeeding period, did scarcely any better. Since Cash, though a -newcomer, was a professed tackle, Leonard might have been cheered a -trifle by witnessing that youth’s performance. As it was, however, it -remained for Slim to dispel the gloom to some slight extent. “Why, you -poor prune,” scoffed Slim later on in Number 12, “you don’t need to get -hipped about what happened to you. Why, say, if you think you played -punk you ought to see some of ’em! Bless your dear soul, sonnie, you -were head and shoulders above a lot that get in. I was rather too busy -myself to watch how you were getting on very much, but as I didn’t hear -Appel saying much to you I judge that you did fairly well.” - -Leonard repeated the quarter’s remark about a tackle who couldn’t stop -a toy balloon, but Slim only chuckled. “If that’s all ‘Bee’ said you -must have done mighty well,” he answered. “That little hornet has a -sting when he wants to use it, believe me, General! And if he’d been -really out of patience with you he’d have been all over you!” - -“Well, I can’t play tackle,” said Leonard sadly. “That’s one sure -thing.” - -“Oh, piffle! Snap out of it, General. To-morrow, or whenever you get -another chance, you’ll do a heap better. Anyway, you were on the hard -side there, with Billy and Rus against you. Those two tough guys could -make any one look sick!” - -“I don’t believe I’ll get another chance,” said Leonard. - -“Sure, you will. I dare say Johnny’ll have you back there to-morrow. -Just you forget about being on earth for the sole purpose of playing -guard and watch how the tackles handle their jobs. Then you go in and -bust things wide open. If Billy gets too gay with you and passes out -compliments, tell him where to get off and poke your elbow in his face. -Don’t let him think you’re soft and easy, whatever you do. But, if -you’ll take my advice, you’ll play right tackle next time!” - -“N-no,” said Leonard, “I guess I’ll stick where I was to-day--if I get -another chance to.” - -“You’ll get the chance,” predicted Slim. “And I don’t know but what -you’re right, at that. You’ll learn a heap more and learn it quicker -playing opposite Billy than you would against Butler.” - -Disquieting rumors had reached Alton from Lorimer Academy. The Lorimer -team was said to be unusually good this season, and since when only -ordinarily good it gave Alton a hard battle, it was considered wise -to make a few extra preparations for the next game. The result of -this decision was to eliminate scrimmage on Thursday. Instead the -first team and substitutes underwent a double dose of signal drill and -learned two new plays. Perhaps the plays weren’t exactly new; few are -any longer; but they were new to Alton, and Coach Cade devoutly hoped -that they’d be new to Lorimer! Leonard, trailing his blanket around the -sod in the wake of the team, was disappointed, for he had hoped to get -another try-out to-day and had earnestly resolved to comport himself -so much better than yesterday that Quarterback Appel would ask no more -despairing questions of the heavens. But it was not to be. Instead, -he was relegated to the rôle of looker-on, he and some twenty others, -and so wandered up and down the field behind the workers, supposedly -imbibing wisdom as he went. Finally all were dismissed except a handful -of kickers and sent back to the gymnasium and showers. - -The first cut was announced the next morning, and that afternoon the -second team came into being. Leonard was as surprised as relieved to -find his name not among the seventeen on the list. He read it three -times to make sure. Then he remembered that there would be other cuts -coming, and felt less jubilant. There was a long and hard scrimmage -that Friday afternoon, but he didn’t get into it. However, since the -coach had his thoughts centered on the morrow’s contest that day, -Leonard was not unduly chagrined. It wasn’t likely that any fellow who -hadn’t a chance of being called on to face Lorimer would command Mr. -Cade’s attention to-day. The new plays didn’t go any too well, and -some of the older ones went little better. On the whole, there was a -general air of dissatisfaction apparent about the field and, later, in -the locker room of the gymnasium. Of course, as Slim remarked, walking -back to hall with Leonard, beating Lorimer “wasn’t anything to get het -up about, but, just the same and nevertheless and notwithstanding, it -would sort of feel good to hand those lads a wallop!” - -“I’ve got a hunch we’ll win,” said Leonard comfortably. - -“You have, eh? Well, I’ve got a hunch that we’ll have to show more form -than we did to-day if we do lick ’em,” answered Slim grimly. “No one -had any punch this afternoon. I don’t blame Johnny for being sore.” - -“Was he?” asked Leonard, surprised. - -“Was he! I’ll say he was! Don’t you know the symptoms yet?” - -Leonard shook his head apologetically. “I guess I don’t. He didn’t say -much, did he?” - -“No, he said mighty little. That’s his way. When he gets sore he shuts -his mouth like a clam. Oh, of course, he talks up to a certain point, -but after that--” Slim shook his head. “This afternoon he was so silent -it was creepy! I wouldn’t be much surprised if there was a fine old -shake-up about Monday. Well, we who are about to die salute you!” - -Slim drew aside at the entrance to Haylow, his fingers at his forehead, -and Leonard passed impressively by. - -“I shall always remember you kindly, Slim,” he said. - -Leonard had been watching the Lorimer game exactly four and one-half -minutes the next afternoon when the conviction reached him that the -Gray-and-Gold was in for some hard work. It was four and a half minutes -after the start of the contest that the Lorimer Academy full-back -shot through the left side of the Alton line and, shaking himself -free from the secondary defense, plunged on for fourteen yards before -he was finally dragged down, landing the pigskin on the home team’s -thirty-five. Leonard’s conviction was accompanied by a premonition -of defeat. There was something decidedly awe-inspiring in the smooth -efficiency of the invading horde. They were big chaps; big in a rangy -way, though, and not merely heavy with flesh; and they moved with -speed and precision and a kind of joyous zest that promised trouble -for those who should get in their way. According to the stories one -heard, the Lorimer team was composed entirely of third and fourth year -men, with five of the eleven first-choice players seniors. Leonard -could well believe that, for none of the enemy appeared to be less -than eighteen years old, while three or four were probably nearer -twenty. Opposed to them was a team of much younger players, of whom -only three were seniors. Greenwood and Smedley, oldest of all, were -but nineteen. Captain Emerson was eighteen. The balance of the players -ranged from eighteen down to, in the case of Menge, sixteen. Alton -was, also, many pounds lighter, especially in the backfield. Coach -Cade might have presented a heavier line-up than he had presented, -however. With Newton at center in place of Garrick and Stimson at left -guard in place of Smedley the line would have gained several pounds of -weight. The backfield likewise might have been improved in the matter -of avoirdupois by substituting Goodwin for the diminutive “Cricket” -Menge. Reflecting on these things, Leonard, draped in his gray blanket, -watched anxiously from the substitutes’ bench while Jake, the trainer, -restored Kendall with a sopping sponge and, behind him, the Alton -supporters cheered encouragingly. After all, Leonard told himself, -this was only the beginning and Lorimer’s superiority might be more -apparent than real. It took more than age and weight and bright yellow -head-guards to win a football game! - -Lorimer had won the toss and given the ball to Alton. Garrick had -kicked off and his effort had scarcely reached the enemy’s twenty-yard -line. From there it had been run back some five yards. Lorimer had -tried the Alton center and made less than two. Then she had punted and -the ball had gone out at Alton’s forty. Joe Greenwood had made three -at the right of the visitor’s center, Kendall had lost a yard on a try -at left end and Carpenter had punted to Lorimer’s twenty-eight. Then -the enemy had thrown an unexpected forward-pass from regular formation -on first down and made it good for twenty-three yards, Captain Emerson -pulling down the receiver just over the center line. Then the visitor’s -big full-back had torn through for that astounding gain, and now, with -the game less than five minutes old, the enemy was almost inside the -scoring zone. - -Lorimer used a four-square backfield formation and a last-minute shift -that was difficult for the opponent to follow. As the game went on she -varied the direct pass by a snapback to the quarter, and a delayed -pass following the latter proceeding accounted for several gains. -Most of all, however, Lorimer had experienced players with weight and -speed, which is a combination difficult to beat, and the game went -badly for the Gray-and-Gold during that first half. Although a stand -was made on the twenty-two-yard line that held the invaders for three -downs and necessitated a try for a field-goal that failed, Alton’s -moment of humiliation was only postponed. It came finally soon after -the beginning of the second period. An exchange of punts had gained a -slight advantage for Lorimer and the “Yellow-Tops,” as they were now -being called in the stands, had twice made their distance, putting the -ball down on Alton’s forty-one yards. Then came a play that fooled -the home team badly. What had every appearance of being a plunge by -left half through his own side, with the whole Lorimer backfield in -it, proved a moment later to be the old hidden ball stunt, with the -long-legged Lorimer quarter sneaking around the other end and no one -paying any heed to him. The whole Alton team had been pulled to the -right, and the runner had a clear field for several precious moments. -When Carpenter tackled him he was only seventeen yards from the last -line. - -That misadventure seemed to place the defenders of the north goal in a -condition of consternation from which they didn’t wholly recover until -the enemy had pushed the ball across. It took them but seven plays to -do it, concentrating on Smedley and Butler and using their battering -full-back for four of the seven assaults. It was a sad sight to the -Alton sympathizers on stands and bench, for the Gray-and-Gold warriors -looked strangely helpless and their efforts to repel the attack only -half-hearted. Yet, scarcely a minute later, those same warriors broke -through the enemy line and spoiled the try-at-goal, a feat that had -seemed impossible! - -With the score at 6 to 0 the game went on to the whistle that ended -the second period, Alton battling fiercely to reach the Lorimer goal -and never getting nearer than the thirty-six yards. Lorimer appeared -willing to cry quits for the balance of the half, kicking on second -down and seeming satisfied to play on the defensive. It was a penalty -against the visitor for holding that aided Alton in penetrating as far -into the enemy territory as the thirty-six. There, with two to go on -fourth down, Captain Emerson, faking a placement kick, threw over the -line. Menge, however, who was to have taken the pass, failed to get -into position and the ball grounded. The half ended there. - -Leonard plodded back to the gymnasium with the others and sat around -and felt very small and useless. There had been plenty of minor -casualties, and Jake was busy all during the intermission. Coach Cade -talked earnestly to this player and that and finally to them all. He -didn’t say much. He told them, in effect, that they were playing a -mighty good team and there was no disgrace attached to the touchdown -that had been scored against them. He said that in the next half they -would find it easier to stop Lorimer’s rushes, now that they knew her -game better, and that he didn’t see why they shouldn’t be able to -score a couple of times themselves. “Of course,” he added quietly, -“you’ll have to play very differently from the way you’ve been playing, -fellows. I’m willing to take my share of the blame, but there isn’t one -of you with enough assurance to tell me that you played that half the -way I’ve taught you to play! You tried out a system of your own. And it -didn’t work. Now, then let’s try the other style of football, the sort -you’ve been learning for the last two years. Watch the ball and not the -players. You’ve been fooled so often you ought to have enough by now! -And when you have the ball start sooner. Don’t let the other fellows -stop you on your side of the line. And play hard, fellows, _hard_! Why, -you haven’t any of you perspired yet! Come on out now and show those -big guys what a lot of poor shrimps they are!” - -Of course what ought to have happened then is this. Alton, inspired -by the coach’s words, filled with a new courage and a greater -determination, returned to the field and trampled the foe underfoot, -showing a startling reversal of form and winning the game by an -overwhelming score. Well, maybe, but it didn’t happen that way so any -one could notice it. This is a truthful narrative, and facts are facts. - -The line-up for the third period was the same as for the first with -the exception of Stimson at left guard in place of the much-battered -Smedley. There were plenty of other changes before the game came to -an end, but they were not yet. Lorimer kicked off and Kendall caught -and was downed after a twelve-yard run-back. Carpenter sent Greenwood -at the line and Joe hit something hard and bounced back. Menge got -three outside left tackle and Carpenter punted short to midfield. -Lorimer made her distance and placed the pigskin on Alton’s forty-two. -A delayed pass lost a yard. A plunge at left tackle was smeared by -Stimson. Lorimer kicked to the ten yards and Carpenter ran back to his -seventeen. Kendall got through on the right of the line for six yards. -Kendall tried the same place again and was stopped. Carpenter ran wide -around his left and gained two. Kendall punted and the Lorimer quarter -was thrown in his tracks by Emerson. Lorimer started back from her -twenty-four yards and found a soft place at Wells, making it first down -on her thirty-seven. Another try at Wells was good for only a yard. -Lorimer then threw forward, but the pass was knocked down by Staples. -A second forward to the other side of the field grounded. Lorimer -punted. - -And so the game went. Alton was playing better and harder, but she -couldn’t make much headway at that. Carpenter seemed unwilling to -attempt variety in the plays he ordered, and Lorimer solved most of -them before they started. Several penalties were meted out, both teams -sharing about equally. The third period ended with the ball in Alton’s -possession on her own forty-yard line. With ten minutes left to play, a -victory for the home team was scarcely within the possibilities, while, -on the other hand, it was very generally predicted that Lorimer would -not be able to add to her holdings. - -Five fresh players went in for Alton. Newton succeeded Garrick at -center, Renneker gave way to Raleigh, Wells to Wilde, Carpenter to -Appel and Kendall to Reilly. Leonard, who had expected to see the -hard-fighting Goodwin replace young Menge at left half before this, was -surprised to observe “Cricket” still in place when the whistle blew -again. Appel proved an improvement over Carpenter right away. “Bee,” -as Slim had once remarked, had a sting, and it wasn’t long before -Lorimer experienced it. The new quarter appeared to possess no awe of -the enemy. He banged “Red” Reilly into the line once and then called -for a risky double-pass play that threw Menge around the enemy right -end with almost a clear field ahead of him. The Lorimer right half -nipped the play and stood the diminutive Cricket on his head after a -seven-yard gain, but Alton cheered loudly and triumphantly and took -heart. But the Alton advance ended four plays later when Reilly fumbled -and a Lorimer back shot through and fell on the rolling ball. Lorimer -worked to Alton’s thirty-one, was held for three downs and attempted -a desperate placement kick that fell five yards short. Seven of the -last ten minutes were gone when a short forward-pass straight over the -middle of the line gave Emerson a chance to dodge his way for a dozen -yards and put the pigskin down on the enemy’s thirty-four. - -Carpenter had twice tried the new plays for no results, and now Appel -had a go at one of them. The one he selected was a half-back run from -close formation, the ball going to quarter and from him to one of -three players running past him and turning in around a boxed end. The -chief merit of it lay in the fact that the ball was well hidden and -the play could be made fast. Much, naturally, depended on the work of -the linemen in doing away with the enemy defense. The ball went to the -second runner in the tandem, who might be either one of the backs. -The first man’s duty was to clear away the enemy’s secondary defense -long enough for the man with the ball to get clear of the line. After -that it was mainly up to the latter to look after himself, although, -theoretically at least, he was protected from behind. - -Appel chose this play--Number 39 was its official title--with the ball -on Lorimer’s thirty-four-yard line well over toward the west side of -the field. Cricket Menge was second in line when the backs turned as -the ball was snapped and ran past the quarter. The play was nearly -spoiled by Slim’s inability to throw the opposing end in, but he did -the next best thing and allowed him to go past on the outside. Reilly -took the Lorimer right half and disposed of him neatly and Cricket -piled around on his heels. Greenwood prevented a flank attack and then -confusion reigned and for a moment no one could have said exactly -what did happen. But when the moment--a brief one--had passed, there -was Cricket running two yards ahead of the nearest pursuer and making -straight for the goal. It was Appel who put the crowning touch on his -work by spurting through the ruck and engaging the Lorimer quarter -just in time. Menge, small and fleet, reached the goal-line an instant -later almost unchallenged. And after that the Gray-and-Gold held firmly -against the charge of a frantic opponent and Rus Emerson dropped the -ball very neatly between the uprights and well over the bar, doing what -Lorimer had failed to do on a like occasion and so winning a game that, -viewing the matter without prejudice, belonged to the enemy! - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -A STRANGE RESEMBLANCE - - -The school weekly, _The Doubleay_--more generally referred to as the -“_Flubdub_”--was almost epic over the Lorimer game in the following -Thursday’s issue. It dwelt heavily on the dramatic aspects and very -lightly on the scientific. It found, or pretended to find, much -encouragement in the masterly way in which the Alton representatives -had overcome the enemy’s lead and soared to victory in the last -minutes of play. Every one came in for a kind word--every one save -the adversaries--and there was even fulsome praise for a few: Captain -Emerson and Appel and Cricket Menge and Greenwood and Gordon Renneker. -Even Slim, who had stuck it out for three periods, was mentioned -approvingly. The _Flubdub_ concluded with a flourish of trumpets, -declaring that the Alton team had already found its stride and was -headed straight for a victory over Kenly Hall. - -The _Flubdub’s_ effusion is set forth here, out of chronological order, -merely to show how judgments differ. There were others who viewed -the Lorimer game with less enthusiasm; as, for instance, Slim and -Leonard. Slim made a wry face and shrugged his shoulders. “Just plain -robbery,” said the left end. “We hadn’t any more right to take that -game than--than nothing at all! Talk about stealing the baby’s rattle! -Why, bless my soul, General, the only reason that ‘39’ play succeeded -was because it went wrong! I was supposed to box that end of theirs, -Kellog, and he wouldn’t box. By rights, he ought to have swung around -back of me and spoiled the picture. Just by luck he didn’t, and Cricket -got by and squirmed loose. That wasn’t good football, son, it was good -luck. We played pretty fairly punk, the lot of us, although we did do -a bit better after Appel took the helm. Bee isn’t the player Carpenter -is, but he certainly can run the team a sight better, if you want my -opinion. As for me, I don’t mind owning that I was rotten. But all the -others were, too, so I don’t feel so badly. Even your friend Renneker -did more heavy looking on than anything else, so far as I could see.” - -“I’m afraid I can’t claim him as a friend,” said Leonard. “He’s never -known me since we parted in the cab that day.” - -“Well, I’m beginning to sour on that handsome guy as a tackle. Looks to -me like he was touched with frost!” - -At about the same time that Saturday evening Rus Emerson was seated in -Coach Cade’s front room in the old white house opposite the school -gate on Academy street. Johnny sat at one side of a big mahogany table -and Rus at the other, and each was slumped well down on his spine as -if he had put in a hard day’s work. The soft light of the lamp left -their faces in shadow. The coach was speaking. “Who makes up these -All-Scholastic Football Teams, Cap?” he inquired. - -“The papers, I guess. That is, the sports editors.” - -“Reckon they make mistakes now and then?” - -“I wouldn’t wonder.” Rus smiled gently in the shadow. - -“H’m.” There was silence a moment. Then: “He certainly looks good,” -continued the coach almost wistfully. “I don’t know that I ever saw a -chap who came nearer to looking the part of a clever, hard-fighting -lineman. Why, just on appearances you’d pick him out of a crowd and -shake hands with yourself.” - -“He certainly does look the part,” agreed Rus. “And maybe he will find -his pace after a bit.” - -“Maybe.” But Johnny’s tone was dubious. “He won’t find it unless he -looks for it, though, and it doesn’t seem to me that he’s taking the -trouble to look.” The coach laughed softly, ruefully. “The funny thing -is, Cap, that he’s got me bluffed. I know mighty well that he needs -jacking up, but every time I get ready to ask him if he won’t kindly -come alive and take an interest in things he turns that calmly superior -gaze on me and I haven’t the courage. Why, drat his handsome hide, Cap, -he looks like he _invented_ football! Speaking harshly to him would be -like--like knocking off the President’s hat with a snowball!” - -Rus chuckled. “He’s got me like that, too. I want to apologize every -time I open my mouth to him. Do you know, I’m beginning to wonder -whether it wouldn’t be a good plan to switch him over to the subs for a -few days. It might be good medicine.” - -“Ye-es, it might. We’ll see how he comes on the first of the week, -though. Besides, Cap, who’s going to tell him he’s out of the line-up?” -laughed Johnny. “Me, I’d have to write him a letter or send him a -telegram!” - -There was a knock at the door and Tod Tenney came in. “Hello, Coach! -Hi, Rus! Say, is there anything special this evening? Anything to -discuss, I mean? If there isn’t I want to cut. There’s a shindig down -town.” Tod grinned. - -“‘Nobody knows,’” hummed Rus, “‘where the Old Man goes, but he takes -his dancing shoes!’” - -“Yes, there’s one thing,” answered the coach gravely. “I’d like your -opinion, Tod. What do you think of this fellow Renneker?” - -Tod already had the doorknob in hand, and now he turned it, pulled the -portal inward and sort of oozed through the aperture. But before the -countenance quite disappeared the mouth opened and the oracle spoke. - -“He’s a false-alarm,” was the verdict. - -Then the door closed. - -Sunday afternoon Slim and Leonard went to walk again and, at Leonard’s -suggestion, ended up at Number 102 Melrose avenue. Johnny McGrath -seemed extremely pleased to see them, but Slim had to hint broadly -before the lemonade pitcher appeared. They talked of yesterday’s game, -which Johnny had attended. “I took my kid brother,” said Johnny. -“He plays on his grammar school team now and then. He’s a sort of -tenth substitute or something, as near as I get it. Well, he told me -confidentially yesterday after we got home that his team could beat the -stuffing out of ours!” - -Slim laughed. “I wouldn’t want to say it couldn’t, the way we played -yesterday. How does it happen, though, that the kid’s playing football -when you can’t, Johnny?” - -Johnny smiled. “Mother doesn’t know it, you see. Maybe I ought to tell -on him, but he’s crazy about it and I haven’t the heart. Sure, I don’t -believe he’s likely to get hurt, for all the playing he does.” - -“Nor I. I just wondered. I do wish you could talk your mother around, -though.” - -“Why,” answered Johnny, “if I was to tell her I’d set my heart on it -she’d not forbid me, Slim. But she’d be fearful all the time, and she’s -had worry enough. And it isn’t like I cared much about it. Maybe I’d be -a mighty poor football player, do you see? And, anyway, there’s basket -ball, and baseball, too.” - -“I didn’t know you played baseball,” said Slim. - -“In the summer. We have a team here in town called the Crescents. I -play second. Most of the fellows are older than me. It’s a good team, -too.” - -“Sure,” said Slim. “I’ve heard of the Crescents. Some of the fellows -from the carpet mills are on it, eh?” - -“Most of them are mill fellows; McCarty and O’Keefe and McCluer and -Carnochan--” - -“How come you don’t call yourselves the Shamrocks? Or the Sinn Feiners?” - -“Well,” laughed Johnny, “our pitcher’s name is Cartier and the -shortstop’s is Kratowsky. And then there’s--” - -“Don’t,” begged Slim, “I can’t bear it! Who do you play against?” - -“Oh, any one. We played about thirty games last summer and won more -than half. We go away for a lot of them. We went as far as Bridgeport -once. We played twice at New Haven and once at New London and--” Johnny -stopped and pushed a slice of lemon around the bottom of his glass -with the straw. “Say, what’s the name of the big fellow who’s playing -left--no, right guard for us?” - -“Renneker,” said Slim. “First name’s Gordon. What about him?” - -“Nothing. Gordon Renneker, eh? Does he play baseball, do you know?” - -“No, I don’t, Johnny. Want him for the Crescents next summer?” - -Johnny shook his head. “I was--I was just wondering. You see, there -was a fellow played on this New London team--the Maple Leaf it was -called--looked a whole lot like this chap.” - -“Maybe it was he,” said Slim cheerfully, setting down his glass with a -regretful glance at the empty pitcher. “Maybe baseball’s his real game -and he got mixed.” - -“This fellow’s name was Ralston, George Ralston,” replied Johnny, -frowning. “Sure, though, he was the dead spit of Renneker.” - -“I’ve heard of fellows changing their names before this,” said Leonard. -“Perhaps, for some reason, Renneker didn’t want to play under his own -name. Was he good, McGrath?” - -“He was,” answered their host emphatically. “He played first, and -he had a reach from here to the corner of the porch and could hit -the cover off the ball every time. He played fine, he did. Kind of a -lazy-acting fellow; looked like he wasn’t much interested. And maybe he -wasn’t, if what they told us was so.” - -“What was that?” asked Slim, smothering a yawn. - -“Well, it was the newsboy on the train handed me the story. I wouldn’t -like to say he was giving me straight goods, for he was a mean looking -little guy. You see, those Maple Leafs beat us, something like 14 to -6 it was, and some of our crowd were kind of sore. Going back on the -train they were talking over the game and this newsboy was hanging -around. Pretty soon he came over to where I was sitting and got to -talking. Seemed he lived in New London, or else he hung over there. -Anyway, he knew some of the players, and he got to telling about -them. ‘That fellow Smith,’ he said--that wasn’t the name, but he was -talking about the pitcher--‘gets thirty for every game.’ ‘Thirty -what?’ I asked, not getting him. ‘Thirty dollars,’ said he. ‘No wonder -we couldn’t hit him then,’ I said. ‘And how about the catcher?’ ‘Oh, -he don’t get paid,’ said the boy. ‘They don’t any of the others get -paid except that Ralston guy. They give him twenty-five. He don’t -play regular with them, though.’ I let him talk, not more than half -believing him. Of course, I’d heard of fellows taking money for playing -on teams supposed to be strictly amateur, but it’s always on the quiet -and you don’t know if it’s so. Afterwards I told Ted McCluer what I’d -heard and Ted said he guessed it was straight goods; that he’d heard -that that pitcher wasn’t playing for his health.” - -Slim frowned and shook his head. “I guess you are mistaken, Johnny,” -he said. “Renneker’s rather a swell, as I understand it, and it isn’t -likely he’d be running around the country playing ball for a trifling -little old twenty-five dollars. Guess you’re barking up the wrong tree, -son.” - -“I’m not barking at all,” replied Johnny, untroubled. “Only when I had -a close look at this Renneker fellow yesterday he was so much like -Ralston that I got to thinking.” - -“Well, I’d quit,” advised Slim with some emphasis. “And I’d be mighty -careful not to tell that yarn to any one else. You know how long -Renneker would last if it got around.” - -Johnny nodded. “That’s a fact,” he agreed. - -Leonard looked puzzled. “But if he isn’t the fellow McGrath took him -for, how could it matter any?” - -“You aren’t Julius Cæsar,” answered Slim, “but you might have a hard -time proving it.” - -“Get out! Cæsar’s dead!” - -“So are you--from the neck up,” retorted Slim. “Come on home before you -get any worse.” - -“I suppose, now,” said Johnny thoughtfully, “they’d not let Renneker -play on the team if it happened that he really was this other guy.” - -“Of course they wouldn’t,” answered Slim, a bit impatiently. “What -do you think? Accepting money for playing baseball! I’ll say they -wouldn’t! But I tell you you’re all wrong about it, anyway, Johnny. So -don’t talk about it, son. Even if a fellow is innocent, getting talked -about doesn’t help him any.” - -“Sure, I know,” agreed Johnny. “It wouldn’t be him, I guess.” - -“Not a chance,” said Slim heartily. “Coming, General?” - -Half a block down the avenue Leonard broke the silence. “Sort of -funny,” he remarked, “that the initials should be the same. ‘G. R.’; -Gordon Renneker and George Ralston.” - -“Too blamed funny,” muttered Slim. - -Leonard looked at him with surprise. “You don’t think, do you, -that--that there’s anything in it?” - -Slim hesitated a moment. Then: “Don’t know what to think,” he answered. -“Johnny’s no fool. If you play baseball with a chap you get a pretty -good view of him. Of course, now and then you find a case where two -fellows look so much alike their own mothers mightn’t know them apart -at first, and Johnny might easily be mistaken. I dare say he didn’t get -a very good look at Renneker yesterday. Besides, what would a chap like -Renneker be doing barnstorming around for a measly twenty-five?” It -was evident to Leonard that Slim was working hard to convince himself. -“Anyway,” he went on, “Johnny’ll keep it to himself after this.” - -“Yes,” Leonard affirmed, “but I think he still believes he’s right.” - -“Let him, so long as he keeps it to himself. I’m not awfully -enthusiastic about this Gordon Renneker, General. So far he hasn’t -shown anything like what you’d expect from a fellow with his -reputation. And I don’t warm up to him much in other ways. He seems -a pretty cold fish. But he may get better, and, even if he doesn’t, -I guess we wouldn’t want to lose him. So it’s up to us to forget all -about this silly pipe-dream of Johnny’s, see?” - -“I see,” replied the other thoughtfully. - -Something in his tone caused Slim to dart a questioning glance at him, -but Leonard’s countenance added nothing to his voice and they went on -in silence. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -LEONARD MAKES A TACKLE - - -Monday was a day of rest for those who had taken part for any length -of time in the Lorimer game, and so the two teams that finally faced -each other for a short scrimmage contained much doubtful talent. -Leonard again went in at left tackle and, since he didn’t have Billy -Wells and Captain Emerson to oppose him, he managed to do a great -deal better. Cruikshank, who acted as quarterback and captain of the -patched-up eleven on which Leonard found himself, twice thumped the -latter on his back and uttered hoarse words of approval. The two teams -were very nearly matched, and the ten minute period was nearly over -before either secured a chance to score. Then A Team got Dakin off -tackle for a gallop of sixteen yards, and the pigskin lay close to the -opponent’s twenty. Goodwin slashed through center for four and Dakin -got two. Then Goodwin tried the middle of the line again and found -no hole, and there was a yard loss. Goodwin, who had been playing -full-back until recently, had not yet fully mastered his new job. With -five to go on third down, Cruikshank took the ball himself and managed -to squeeze through the enemy’s right wing and squirm along for the -rest of the distance. The ball was then close to the ten-yard line. -Kerrison dropped back from end position to the eighteen and held out -his arms. But no one was fooled by that gesture, and Dakin, plunging -past Leonard, made less than a yard. Then it was “Kerrison back!” once -more, and this time Leonard got the jump on the opposing guard and -Dakin found a hole to his liking and plunged through to the four yards. -With less than three to go, Kerrison went back to end position and on -the next play the whole backfield concentrated behind Goodwin, and once -more Leonard put his man out and felt the runner rasping by him. The -opposition melted, and Goodwin went through and staggered well past the -goal-line before he was downed. The coach wouldn’t let them try the -goal, and so they had to be satisfied with the six points. They trotted -back to the gymnasium fairly contented, however. - -Leonard secretly hoped that his performance, even though against a none -too strong adversary, had been noted by Johnny. If it had the fact -was known only to the coach and no immediate results materialized. On -Tuesday, with the first-string men back in place, Leonard wasn’t called -on; although he had plenty of work with C Squad. There was a second cut -that afternoon and the number of candidates left was barely sufficient -for three elevens. Of that number, however, was Leonard, even though, -as he assured himself, better players had been banished! - -Wednesday found him again at tackle, but now on the right of the line, -with Stimson at one elbow and Gurley dodging back and forth at his -other side. He found Butler less trying as a vis à vis than Billy -Wells, but he somehow wished Johnny hadn’t changed him over. Billy, -even at his deadliest, was an honorable foe, and even a partial success -gained against Billy was something to be proud of. Not, however, that -Leonard found Butler an easy adversary. Far from it. Butler made -Leonard look pretty poor more than half the time, while, when Leonard -was obliged to give his attention to Left Guard Smedley, the substitute -tackle made an even sorrier showing. On the whole, Leonard wasn’t a -bit proud of his work, either on offense or defense, during the first -period, and returned to the bench convinced that his goose was cooked. -When Johnny, criticizing and correcting along the line of panting -players, reached Leonard he stopped again. - -“Not so good to-day,” he said. “What was wrong, Grant?” - -Leonard hadn’t the least idea what was wrong, beyond a general -inability to play the position as it should be played, and, besides, he -was horribly surprised and embarrassed by the unexpected attention. -Nevertheless, after a moment of open-mouthed dumbness, he had a flash -of inspiration. - -“I don’t think I can play so well at left tackle, sir,” he replied, -meeting the coach’s eyes with magnificent assurance. Mr. Cade smiled -very slightly and moved past. But he turned his face again toward -Leonard an instant later. - -“I’ll take you up on that, Grant,” he said sharply. - -Leonard felt uncomfortable. He wasn’t quite certain what Johnny had -meant. Besides, there had been something--well, not exactly unfriendly, -but sort of--sort of rasping in his tone; as if Johnny had thought to -himself, “Get sassy with me, will you. I’ll show you!” Leonard wished -now he had kept his mouth shut. Some of the fellows who had taken part -in the first period of scrimmaging were making their way back to the -showers, but as no one dismissed him Leonard sat still and got his -breath back and wondered what awaited him. Then Tod Tenney called “Time -up, Coach!” and Johnny Cade swung around and pulled out his little book -and sent them back on the field again. - -“B Team,” he called. “Gurley and Kerrison, ends; Wilde and Grant, -tackles; Squibbs and--” - -But Leonard didn’t hear any more. He was shedding his blanket and -telling himself fiercely that he just had to make good now. The -fierceness remained throughout the subsequent twenty-one minutes -required to play ten minutes of football. At the first line-up Billy -Wells smiled joyfully at Leonard. “See who’s here,” he called gayly, -swinging his big arms formidably. “Who let you in, sonny? Some one sure -left the gate open! Which way are you coming?” - -“Inside,” answered Leonard grimly. - -“Welcome to our midst, sweet youth!” - -Of course Leonard didn’t go inside. In the first place, the play was -around the right end, and in the next place Billy wouldn’t have stood -for it. Leonard busied himself with Renneker, got slammed back where he -belonged and then plunged through the melting lines and chased after -the play. Rus Emerson slapped him on the back as they passed on their -way to the next line-up. - -“Glad to see you, Grant,” declared the captain. - -On the next play Leonard and Billy mixed it up thoroughly, but truth -compels the admission that of the two Leonard was the most mixed! You -just couldn’t get under Billy. If you played low, Billy played lower. -If you feinted to your right, Billy moved to his right, too. If you -tried to double-cross him and charged the way you feinted he outguessed -you and was waiting. He knew more ways of using his shoulder than there -were letters in the alphabet, and his locked hands coming up under -your chin were most effective. No cat was half as quick as Billy and -no bull-dog half as stubborn and tenacious. Yet Leonard did have his -infrequent triumphs. Once, when Reilly wanted three yards to make the -distance, Leonard put Billy Wells out completely and Red slid by for a -yard more than needed. Leonard had got the jump that time by a fraction -of a second, and he was so proud of his feat that doubtless it showed -on his face, for Billy viewed him sarcastically for a moment and then -announced: “Just bull-luck, you poor half portion of prunes!” - -Leonard paid for that moment of success two plays later when his chin -got in the way of Billy’s elbow. They had to call time for Leonard, for -an accidental blow on the point of the chin eliminates ambition for all -of a minute. But he got up with ambition returning fast and gave Billy -a promising look that brought a grin to that youth’s countenance. “Atta -boy,” he approved. “Lots more waiting!” - -If there was Leonard didn’t go after it. Instead, he was more careful -to keep his head down. A leather helmet can take a lot of punishment -without showing it. A few minutes later, after A Squad had taken the -ball away and pushed herself down to B’s twenty-six yards, Leonard had -the supreme satisfaction of smearing a play aimed at him. Billy came -through all right, for Leonard let him, but the hole closed behind him, -and if Leonard felt any compunction because his cleats were digging -into the lower extremities of the fallen Billy he didn’t show it! -That time Billy viewed his adversary ponderingly as he accepted the -proffered hand and scrambled to his feet. - -“Huh,” he said, “the kid’s getting on, eh?” - -Leonard grinned. “On to you, Wells,” he answered. - -But these great moments were few and far between. Generally Billy was -too good for the neophyte. Usually if there was a gain needed where -Leonard held forth, that gain eventuated, although it wasn’t always as -big as expected. Stimson helped his tackle in many a hard place, and -Goodwin, playing behind, could be depended on to quell a too ambitious -runner. Oddly enough, when Leonard found Renneker in front of him, -as happened when A Squad spread her line open, he wasn’t nearly so -concerned. Renneker, in spite of size and weight and reputation, could -be fooled and, after a fashion, handled. Renneker was slow, for one -thing. There was no doubt about that. The A Squad quarter was forever -telling him so, even if Leonard hadn’t discovered the fact for himself. -Leonard could handle Renneker far better when A had the ball than he -could Billy Wells. - -A Squad fought desperately to a touchdown and then added a goal. As she -had already scored once in the first period, she was entitled to be -a trifle lordly, which she was. B Squad kicked off again and Cricket -Menge, catching near his five-yard line, raced back up the field, -miraculously worming his fleet way through most of the enemy forces. -At the forty yards he was still going, with his own players building a -hasty interference about him and the B Squad players converging on him -from all points, mostly from behind. Forced close to the side-lines -near the center of the field, Cricket swung out from behind his -interference and started across. Gurley dived for him and missed him. -Cricket straightened out for the distant goal, still running hard and -fast. Leonard and Reilly drew up on him as he passed the forty-yard -line, and Appel, the B Squad quarter, hovered anxiously ahead. It was -a confused rabble of friend and foe that scuttled down the field. -Leonard tried hard to get around Greenwood, plunging along in Menge’s -wake, but the big full-back held him away over two white lines. Reilly, -edging in, dove too soon and went over and over. Greenwood, striving to -hurdle the obstacle, faltered long enough for Leonard to thrust past -him. Kendall threw himself in Leonard’s way, but the latter hurdled -over him. He was a bare three yards behind the runner now, and the -thirty-yard mark was underfoot. Appel was edging over, yet not making -the mistake of leaving his goal too far. Leonard was too tuckered to -do much planning. He put every ounce of strength into a last supreme -effort, gained a little and plunged forward, arms out-thrust and -fingers groping. - -His left hand closed on something tightly, he felt himself being -dragged along the turf. Then Appel landed on Cricket’s back, and the -race was over. Cricket turned a reproachful countenance toward Leonard -when they had pulled him to his unsteady feet. But he managed a grin. -So did Leonard. That was about all he could have managed just then, for -his head was going around, his lungs were bursting and his stomach was -horribly empty. He was infinitely relieved when he discovered that the -battle was over and that, having been assisted to his feet, he could -make his uncertain way to the bench. He passed Coach Cade on the way, -and the coach met his eyes and nodded. At least, Leonard thought he -did. He was too exhausted to be certain of it. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -THE SECOND TEAM COMES OVER - - -That incident seemed to bring about a subtle difference in Leonard’s -relations with the other players. He received no particular praise -for what, indeed, was only a part of the day’s work; probably none -besides Appel and Slim referred to it; but the next day he noticed -that many more of the fellows spoke to him or nodded to him in the -gymnasium, on the way to the field or during practice. Jim Newton even -hailed him as “General,” having probably heard Slim use that nickname. -But Wednesday’s performance appeared to have made no difference in -Leonard’s standing on the squad. To-day he relieved Lawrence for the -last five minutes of the last scrimmage period, and that was all the -attention he received from Johnny. Billy Wells nodded to him, but had -nothing to say. That was Leonard’s last appearance in the line-up that -week, for on Friday only the first- and second-string players got -into the brief practice. On Saturday the eleven went to Hillsport and -played Hillsport School, winning an easy contest by a score of 14 to -0. Leonard didn’t go along, although some half-hundred of the fellows -did. Instead, he and a half-dozen others whose presence at Hillsport -had not been considered necessary by the coach spent an hour or more on -the field with a ball and they went across to the second team gridiron -and saw the last half of a ragged game between the scrubs and a team -of substitutes from the Alton High School. Slim showed up just before -supper time with two broad strips of plaster over his right cheekbone. - -It was on Sunday that Leonard first heard reference to the Sophomore -Dinner. “By the way,” said Slim, looking up from the book he was -reading--it was raining, and the usual Sunday afternoon walk was out of -the question--“have you come across for the dinner yet, General?” - -“Eh?” asked Leonard. “What dinner?” - -“The class dinner. You’re going, of course.” - -“Do you mean our class? I hadn’t heard about it!” - -“Oh, that’s so; the notices aren’t out yet, are they? Well, it’s to be -the seventh of next month. I forgot this was your first year with us, -old son. It’s always the first Saturday in November.” - -“First I’ve heard of it. How much does it cost?” - -“A dollar and a half this year. It used to be a dollar, but they put up -the price on us. You’ll get your money’s worth, though.” - -“Why, I suppose I’ll go. Does every one? All the fellows in the class, -I mean.” - -“Pretty much. A few pikers stay away. Same with all the class feeds, I -guess.” - -“Do you mean that all the classes have these dinners?” - -“Sure. We have ours in November, the freshies have theirs in February, -the juniors in April and the seniors in June, just before Class Day.” - -“Where do we have it?” asked Leonard. - -“Kingman’s this year. There are only about two places, Kingman’s -restaurant and the Alton House. Last year we had the freshman feed at -the Alton House, and it wasn’t very good.” - -“Is it fun?” - -“Sure it is. Especially when the freshies try to break it up! Last year -the sophs had their shindig at Kingman’s and we smuggled Billy Wells -into the basement in the afternoon and he hid behind a pile of boxes -until about seven o’clock and then unscrewed the electric light switch. -We came rather near getting into trouble over that. The sophs were -upstairs, on the second floor, and of course we didn’t want to put the -lights out all over the building, but we had to do it. Mr. Kingman was -tearing mad and made a holler to faculty. It ended with an apology from -the freshman class, though, for Kingman thought it over, I suppose, -and realized that if he made too much of a fuss we’d stop going to his -place. Billy almost got caught getting out that night. He was sneaking -out the back way when he ran into one of the cooks. Billy swears the -man had a cleaver in his hand. Anyway, Billy got behind a door or into -a corner and they didn’t see him.” Slim chuckled. “The sophs didn’t get -on with their banquet for nearly an hour.” - -“But what’s the idea?” asked Leonard. “Why did you want to bust up -their party?” - -Slim pondered a moment. Then he shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s -just a custom. It’s always been done, I guess.” - -“And do the sophs do the same thing when the freshmen have their -blow-out?” - -“Oh, no, that would be beneath our dignity. But we try to make things a -little difficult for the juniors.” - -“I see.” Leonard smiled. “Then, after I’ve paid my dollar and a half, I -can’t be quite certain that I’ll get my dinner, eh?” - -“Oh, you’ll get it,” answered Slim confidently. “No silly bunch of -freshies is going to bust up this party, son! We’ll see to that. And -that reminds me. Keep your ears open from now on and if you hear -anything let me know.” - -“Hear anything?” - -“Yes. You might, you know. Freshies like to talk big, and one of them -might let drop some information that would be of interest to us. Of -course, they’ll try something, you know, and it would make it easier -for us if we got an inkling beforehand so we’d know what to look for.” - -“I see,” said Leonard. “I suppose you, as Class President, are sort of -responsible for the success of the affair, Slim.” - -“Well, I’m chairman of the dinner committee, and about half of our -duty is to see that the freshies don’t hurl a monkey-wrench into the -machinery, so to speak. Know any freshmen?” - -“Two or three, but only to speak to.” - -“Well, it would be a good plan to get better acquainted,” said Slim. -“It’s an older fellow’s duty to be friendly with the freshies and make -life pleasant for them, you know.” - -Leonard grinned. “And keep his ears open? Sort of like playing the spy, -isn’t it?” - -“Of course. There’ll be a lot of spying done on both sides during the -next fortnight. They’ll be trying to find out where we’re going to -feed, and when, and we’ll be trying to find out what they’re going to -do about it.” - -“But if we get out notices, as you said we did, what’s to keep the -freshmen from knowing all about it?” - -“The notices don’t give the date and place, General. They’re just -reminders to the members of the class. Of course, the freshmen do find -out easy enough, but it makes them work harder if we don’t tell ’em. -There’s one thing they won’t do, anyway, and that’s cut off the light. -Mr. Kingman will take mighty good care that no one gets into the cellar -this year!” - -“What will they do, do you suppose?” asked Leonard. - -“Search me! Maybe they’ll try to rush the hall. They did that three or -four years ago, they say, and ate most of the dinner before the sophs -could get them out again!” - -“Gee,” murmured Leonard, “I can’t imagine this year’s bunch of freshies -trying anything like that!” - -“Well, you can’t tell. They get pretty cocky after they’ve been here -a month or so. Besides, they had their election last week, and that -always sort of starts them going. There’s a lot of them this year; -nearly a hundred and thirty, I hear; and if they want to make trouble -they can do it.” - -“How many of us are there, Slim?” - -“Ninety--something; ninety-six, I think. Oh, we can look after -ourselves. The most they can do, in any case, is hold things up for -awhile.” - -“Sounds exciting,” mused Leonard. “Do they ever get to scrapping?” - -“Oh, no, not what you’d really call scrapping. Sometimes there’s a rush -and a few fellows get mussed up a little. There’s no hard-feeling, -you understand. It’s just the freshmen’s bounden duty to break up the -sophomore party if they can do it. They never do, but they keep right -on trying. It’s rather fun, you know.” - -“Yes, but I guess I’ll have a good feed before I go,” laughed Leonard. -“Then I’ll be sure of not starving!” - -He paid his dollar and a half to the class treasurer the next day and -received the strictly confidential information that the dinner would -take place on the evening of November 7th at Kingman’s Restaurant at -seven o’clock. “You understand, I guess,” added Wilfred Cash, “that -you’re not to mention the place or the date to any one.” - -“Oh, quite,” Leonard assured him gravely. - -That Monday afternoon the second team, which for unavoidable reasons, -one of which was the inability to find a coach, was nearly a fortnight -late in getting under way, came over and faced the first. Many familiar -faces were to be seen amongst the scrub aggregation, for fully half of -the second team’s line-up had tried for the big team and been rejected. -Leonard, looking on at the scrimmage from the bench, still marveled -that he was not taking orders from Mr. Fadden instead of from Mr. Cade. - -The second’s coach was an old Alton graduate and a resident of the -town who, at the earnest solicitation of the Athletic Committee, had -consented to give up several hours a day to the task of providing -something for the school team to whet their claws on. He was in the -real estate business and was a busy man, and that he had listened to -the call of the committee was greatly to his credit; the more so that, -although he had played football well at Alton and, afterwards, at -Yale, he had grown out of touch with the game and was forced to make -a study of its modern developments before he dared face his charges. -That year’s second team never quite reached the average of Alton second -teams, but it was for no lack of hard work on the part of Mr. Fadden. -He was quite a stout man, and the scrub was soon calling him “Tub,” -though never to his face; but when the second team was dissolved a -month later the nickname was no longer deserved, since, however the -players had fared, Mr. Fadden had lost some thirty pounds from a -portion of his anatomy where it had been extremely noticeable. - -Leonard had a few minutes of play at tackle and found himself opposed -to a very tall and rather awkward youth named Lansing. Lansing wasn’t -difficult and Leonard had little trouble with him. In fact, the whole -second team showed up pretty poorly that afternoon and the first scored -three times in twenty minutes of scrimmage. The first might have done -even better had she used her best line-up. As it was, most of those who -had played against Hillsport on Saturday were not used. - -With the advent of the scrub team Leonard’s chance of getting into -action was much diminished, as he speedily realized. There were, -naturally, but two tackle positions on the first, and for those -positions there were exactly six applicants, including Leonard Grant. -Billy Wells was mortally certain of the right tackle position, -and Butler or Wilde would get the other. That left Lawrence, Cash -and Leonard himself. Probably Lawrence would be chosen for second -substitute. It looked to Leonard as if he and Cash would be out of jobs -in a very short time! - -Theoretically, of course, those tackle positions were still open, -but Leonard knew very well that, although he might conceivably give -Lawrence and Cash--possibly even Wilde--a run for his money, he had -no more chance of equalling Billy Wells or Sam Butler as a tackle -than he had of displacing Johnny Cade as coach! It didn’t seem to him -that Slim’s advice to become an applicant for a tackle position had -been very good. Tackles were a drug on the market. Still, to be fair -to Slim, so were guards! Well, he would just do the best he could and -be satisfied with what he got. Perhaps he might manage to hang on by -the skin of his teeth; and it would help him considerably next fall, -he concluded, to finish this season out on the first team, even if he -never got off the bench again. - -With the Hillsport game out of the way, the season was half over -and Alton metaphorically took a deep breath, cinched its belt up -another hole and set its gaze on the Mt. Millard contest. Last year -the neighboring institution, situated at Warren, some eighteen miles -distant, had beaten Alton by the score of 10 to 0. Of course that was -at the height--or perhaps bottom would be better--of Alton’s historic -slump, but the defeat had rankled. It rankled yet. Until two years ago -Mt. Millard had been an adversary of no consequence. Then she had taken -unto herself a new coach and won two games running, the first 19 to -0, the second 10 to 0. The fact that Alton hadn’t been able to score -against Mt. Millard in two years made it even worse. There was a very -general sentiment at Alton this fall in favor of defeating Mt. Millard, -and defeating her conclusively. In fact, Alton wanted Revenge, Revenge -with a capital R! To that end, therefore, on Tuesday Johnny Cade set to -work to strengthen his defense against the kicking and passing game, -which was Mt. Millard’s long suit. The offense was not neglected, -but it was given second place in the week’s program. By Thursday two -changes, each of which looked to be permanent, had been made. Reilly -had succeeded Kendall at right half and Appel had taken Carpenter’s -position at quarter. Several changes in the line were also tried, but -none appeared more than tentative. Jim Newton was running Garrick very -close for center and, strange to tell, Coach Cade on two occasions -relegated Gordon Renneker to the subs and placed Raleigh at right -guard. To an unbiased observer there seemed little choice between them, -although they were notably different in build and style of playing. -When practice ended Thursday afternoon, which it didn’t do until it -had become almost too dark to see the ball, it would have required a -prophet of more than usual ability to predict the line-up that would -face Mt. Millard. - -That evening Slim took Leonard over to Lykes to see Rus Emerson. -Leonard went none too eagerly, in spite of Emerson’s invitation of some -time ago, but he went. Afterwards he was very glad he had. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -ALTON SEEKS REVENGE - - -Number 16 was already pretty well crowded when Slim and the diffident -Leonard entered. Captain Emerson was there, and so was his roommate, -George Patterson. Then there was Billy Wells, Tod Tenney, Jim Newton, -Gordon Renneker and a chap named Edwards who later turned out to be the -baseball captain. As it seemed to be taken for granted that every one -knew every one else Leonard was not introduced. He and Slim squeezed -onto a bed beside Jim Newton--the thing squeaked threateningly but -held--and Rus passed them a bottle of ginger-ale, with two straws, and -a carton of biscuits. Having helped themselves to the biscuits, they -passed it on to Newton. Jim, at the moment engaged in conversation -with Tod Tenney, absent-mindedly set the box on the bed. After that -it couldn’t be found until Jim got up to go. And then it wasn’t worth -finding, for it had slipped down under the big chap and was no longer -recognizable. - -A good deal of “shop” was talked, in spite of Captain Emerson’s -repeated protests. The Mt. Millard game was discussed exhaustively. -The only feature concerned with it that was not mentioned was the -Alton line-up. That seemed to be taboo. Tod Tenney declared that if -Alton didn’t wipe the ground up with those fellows this time he’d -resign and let the team go to the bow-wows. Whereupon Jim Newton gave -a grunt and remarked that maybe if Tod resigned beforehand it would -change their luck. - -“Luck!” countered Tod. “It isn’t your luck that’s wrong, you big piece -of cheese. You’re scared of those fellows over at Warren. They’ve put -the kibosh on you. Why, last year you didn’t know whether you were on -your head or your heels. They didn’t have half the team that you had, -and you went and let them lick the daylight out of you.” - -“Sic ’em, Prince!” murmured Stick Patterson. - -“Oh, well,” said Billy Wells confidently, “never mind last year, Tod. -Keep your glimmers on Saturday’s fracas. We’re going to smear those -lucky guys all over the field. We’ve got it on them in weight this year -and--” - -“We had last year, too, hadn’t we?” asked Edwards. - -“Not above the collar,” grunted Tenney. - -“For the love of Mike, fellows,” begged Rus, “shut up on football. It’s -enough to play it every day without having to talk it all evening.” - -“What else do you expect football men to talk about?” asked Slim, -rolling the empty ginger-ale bottle under Stick’s bed. “You ought -to know, Rus, that the football player’s intellect isn’t capable of -dealing with any other subject.” - -“Dry up, Slim,” said Billy Wells, “and move over, you poor insect. I -want to talk to General Grant.” - -There being no room to move over without sitting in Jim Newton’s lap, -Slim crossed the room and took the arm of the Morris chair, just -vacated by Billy. Billy squeezed onto the bed, securing another inch -or two by digging Jim violently with an elbow. Jim grunted and said: -“Little beast!” Billy turned a shrewd, smiling countenance on Leonard. - -“Well, how’s it going?” he asked. - -“All right, thanks,” answered Leonard vaguely. Just what “it” was he -didn’t know. Probably, however, life in general. But Billy’s next words -corrected the assumption. - -“How long have you been playing the tackle position?” he asked. - -“About three weeks,” replied Leonard. “That explains it, doesn’t it?” -He added an apologetic smile. - -“Explains what? Oh, I’m not ragging you, Grant. Why, say, you and I -had some swell times! If you’ve been at it only three weeks, I’ll say -you’re pretty good. But where’d you been playing?” - -“Guard. I played guard two years at high school.” - -“Guard, eh?” Billy looked slightly puzzled. “Must have had a fairly -light team, I guess. You don’t look heavy enough for that, Grant.” - -“I am sort of light,” sighed Leonard. - -“Yes.” Billy sized him up frankly. “You’re quick, though, and I -certainly like that. Had me guessing lots of times, I don’t mind -telling you.” - -“Oh, I don’t know,” Leonard murmured. “I’m pretty green at it.” - -“You’ll do,” said Billy. “But, say, mind if I give you a couple of -tips? It may sound cheeky, but--” - -“Gee, not a bit!” protested the other. “I wish you would. I--it’s -mighty good of you.” - -“Well, I don’t pretend to know everything about playing tackle,” Billy -answered, “but there are one or two things I have learned, and I’m glad -to pass them on to you, Grant, because you play a pretty nice game. -Maybe if you were pressing me a bit closer for the position I wouldn’t -be so gabby.” Billy grinned. “One thing is this, son. Watch the other -fellow’s eyes and not his hands. I noticed you kept looking at my hands -or my arms. Don’t do it. Not, at least, if you want to get the jump -on your opponent. Watch his eyes, son. Another thing is, don’t give -yourself away by shifting too soon. You come forward every time with -the foot that’s going to take your weight. There are several ways of -standing, and it’s best to stand the way that suits you, but I like -to keep my feet about even. That doesn’t give me away. Then when I do -start it’s too late for the other fellow to do any guessing. See what I -mean?” - -Leonard nodded, but a little doubtfully. “I think so. But we were -taught to put one foot well behind us so we’d have a brace if the -opponent--” - -“Sure, that’s all right if you’ve got to let the other fellow get away -first. But you don’t need to. You start before he does, Grant. Look.” -Billy held his hands out, palms upward, elbows close to his body. -“Come up under him like that, both legs under you until you’re moving -forward. Then step out, right or left, and get your leverage. Push him -straight back or pivot him. You haven’t given yourself away by moving -your feet about or shifting your weight beforehand. You try it some -time.” - -“I will, thanks,” answered Leonard gratefully. - -“And there’s one more thing.” There was a wicked glint in Billy’s eyes. -“Keep your head down so the other fellow can’t get under your chin. -I’ve known fellows to get hurt that way.” - -Leonard smiled. “So have I,” he said. - -Billy laughed and slapped him on the knee. “You’ll do, General Grant,” -he declared. He turned to Jim Newton, and Leonard, considering what -he had been told, didn’t note for a moment that Gordon Renneker was -speaking across the room to Slim. When he did, Renneker was saying: - -“Baseball? No, very little. I’ve got a brother who goes in for it, -though.” - -“Oh,” replied Slim, “I thought maybe you pitched. You’ve sort of got -the build, you know, Renneker. Hasn’t he, Charlie?” - -Charlie Edwards agreed that he had, looking the big guard up and -down speculatively. Renneker shrugged his broad shoulders and smiled -leniently. “Never tried it,” he said in his careful way. “The few times -I have played I’ve been at first. But I’m no baseball artist.” - -“First, eh?” commented Slim. “By Jove, you know, you ought to make a -corking first baseman! Say, Charlie, you’d better get after him in the -spring.” - -Edwards nodded and answered: “I certainly mean to, Slim.” - -Nevertheless it seemed to Leonard that the baseball captain’s tone -lacked enthusiasm. Slim, Leonard noted, was smiling complacently, and -Leonard thought he knew what was in his chum’s mind. Shortly after that -the crowd broke up and on the way over to Haylow Slim asked: “Did you -hear what Renneker said when I asked him if he played baseball?” - -“Yes,” said Leonard. Slim hadn’t once mentioned the subject of Johnny -McGrath’s suspicions since that Sunday afternoon, and Leonard had -concluded that the matter was forgotten. Now, however, it seemed that -it had remained on Slim’s mind, just as it had on his. - -“He said,” mused Slim, “that he didn’t play. At least very little. Then -he said that when he did play he played at first base. What do you make -of that, General?” - -“Very little. Naturally, if he should play baseball he’d go on first, -with that height and reach of his. I noticed that Edwards didn’t seem -very keen about him for the nine.” - -“Yes, I noticed that, too.” Slim relapsed into a puzzled silence. Then, -at last, just as they reached the dormitory entrance, he added: “Oh, -well, I guess Johnny just sort of imagined it.” - -“I suppose so,” Leonard agreed. “Only, if he didn’t--” - -“If he didn’t, what?” demanded Slim. - -“Why, wouldn’t it be up to us--or Johnny McGrath--to tell Mr. Cade or -some one?” - -“And get Renneker fired?” inquired Slim incredulously, as he closed -the door of Number 12 behind him. - -“Well, but, if he took money for playing baseball, Slim, he hasn’t -any right on the football team, has he? Didn’t you say yourself that -faculty would fire him if it was so, and they knew it?” - -“If they knew it, yes,” agreed Slim. “Now, look here, General, there’s -no sense hunting trouble. We don’t know anything against Renneker, and -so there’s no reason for starting a rumpus. A fellow is innocent until -he’s proven guilty, and it’s not up to us to pussyfoot about and try to -get the goods on Renneker. Besides, ding bust it, there’s only Johnny -McGrath’s say-so, and every one knows how--er--imaginative the Irish -are!” - -“All right,” agreed Leonard, smiling. “Just the same, Slim, you aren’t -fooling me much. You believe there’s something in Johnny’s story, just -as I do.” - -“Piffle,” answered Slim. “Johnny’s a Sinn Feiner. The Irish are all -alike. They believe in fairies. You just can’t trust the unsupported -statement of a chap who believes in fairies!” - -“You surely can work hard to fool yourself,” laughed Leonard. “I -suppose you’re right, Slim, but it would be sort of rotten if one of -the other schools got hold of it and showed Renneker up.” - -“Not likely, General. You stop troubling your brain about it. Best -thing to do is forget it. That’s what I’m going to do. Besides, I keep -telling you there’s nothing in it.” - -“I know. And I want to believe it just as much as you do, only--” - -“There isn’t any ‘only!’ Dry up, and put the light out!” - -On Saturday Leonard was very glad indeed that, in Slim’s words, -there wasn’t any ‘only,’ for without Gordon Renneker the Mt. Millard -game might have ended differently. Renneker found himself in that -contest. Slim always maintained that the explanation lay in the fact -that Renneker’s opponent, one Whiting, was, like Renneker, a big, -slow-moving fellow who relied more on strength than speed; and Slim -supported this theory by pointing out that in the last quarter, when -a quicker and scrappier, though lighter, man had taken Whiting’s -place Renneker had relapsed into his customary form. Leonard reminded -Slim that by that time Renneker had played a long, hard game and was -probably tired out. Slim, however, remained unconvinced. But whatever -the reason may have been, the big right guard on the Alton team played -nice, steady football that Saturday afternoon. His work on defense was -better than his performance when the Gray-and-Gold had the ball, just -as it had been all season. He seemed to lack aggression in attack. But -Coach Cade found encouragement and assured himself that Renneker could -be taught to play a better offensive game by the time the Kenly Hall -contest faced them. The big guard had been causing him not a little -worry of late. - -Mt. Millard brought over a clever, fast team that day. Her line was -only a few pounds lighter than Alton’s, but in the backfield the -Gray-and-Gold had it all over her in weight, even when Menge was -playing. Mt. Millard’s backs were small and light, even her full-back -running to length more than weight. Her quarter was a veritable midget, -and if Alton had not witnessed his work for two years she might have -feared for his safety amongst all those rough players! But Marsh was -able to look after himself, as well as the rest of the team, and do -it in a highly scientific manner. In spite of his diminutive size he -was eighteen years of age and had played two seasons with Mt. Millard -already. For that matter, the visitors presented a veteran team, new -faces being few and far between. - -Alton looked for trouble from the enemy’s passing game and didn’t -look in vain. On the third play Mt. Millard worked a double pass that -was good for nearly thirty yards and, less than eighty seconds after -the whistle, was well into Alton territory. That fright--for it was -a fright--put the home team on her mettle, and a subsequent play of -a similar style was foiled with a loss of two yards. Mt. Millard was -forced to punt from Alton’s thirty-seven. Cricket Menge caught and made -a startling run-back over three white lines. Then Alton tried her own -attack and had slight difficulty in penetrating Mt. Millard’s lighter -line. Greenwood ripped his way through for three and four yards at a -time and Reilly twice made it first down on plays off the tackles. -It was Red’s fumble near his own forty that halted that advance. Mt. -Millard got the ball and started back with it. - -From tackle to tackle the Alton line was invulnerable, save for two -slight gains at Smedley’s position. Mt. Millard’s only chance, it -seemed, was to run the ends, and that she did in good style until the -opponent solved her plays and was able to stop them twice out of three -times. But the visitor had brought along a whole bagful of tricks, -and as the first period--they were playing twelve-minute quarters -to-day--neared its end she opened the bag. Alton had plunged her way -to the enemy’s thirty-seven, and there Menge, trying to cut outside -of left tackle, had become involved with his interference and been -thrown for a two-yard loss. It was third down and six to go, and Joe -Greenwood dropped back eight yards behind center and spread his hands -invitingly. But the ball went to Reilly and Red cut the six yards down -to three by a plunge straight at center. Goodwin went back once more, -and this time took the pigskin. But, although he swung a long leg, the -ball wasn’t kicked. Instead it went sailing through the air to the -side of the field where Menge was awaiting it. Unfortunately, though, -Cricket was not the only one with a desire for the ball, and a fraction -of a second before it was due to fall into his hands a long-legged -adversary leaped upward and captured it. Cricket tackled instantly and -with all the enthusiasm of an outraged soul and the long-legged one -came heavily to earth, but the ball was back in the enemy’s hands and -again Alton’s triumph had been checked. - -One hopeless smash at the Gray-and-Gold line that netted less than a -yard, and Mt. Millard opened her bag of tricks. Speaking broadly, there -aren’t any new plays in football and can’t be except when an alteration -of the rules opens new possibilities. What are called new plays are -usually old plays revived or familiar plays in novel disguise. Mt. -Millard, then, showed nothing strictly original that afternoon, but -some of the things she sprang during the remainder of that game might -almost as well have been fresh from the mint so far as effectiveness -was concerned. During the minute or two that remained of the first -period she made her way from her own thirty-two yards to Alton’s -sixteen in four plays, while the home team supporters looked on aghast. -First there was a silly-looking wide-open formation with every one -where he shouldn’t have been, to meet which Alton rather distractedly -wandered here and there and edged so far back that when, instead of the -involved double or perhaps triple-pass expected, a small half-back took -the ball from center and ran straight ahead with it, he found almost no -opposition until he had crossed the scrimmage line. After that, that he -was able to dodge and twirl and throw off tacklers until Billy Wells -brought him down from behind just over the fifty-yard line, was owing -to his own speed and cunning. - -When Mt. Millard again spread wide Alton thought she knew what was -coming, and this time her ends dropped back only some five yards and, -while displaying customary interest in the opposing ends, kept a sharp -watch on the wide holes in the line. What happened was never quite -clear to them, for Mt. Millard pulled things off with dazzling speed. -The ball shot back from center and well to the left. Some one took it -and started to run with it, while the broken line of forwards came -together in a moving wall of interference. Alton was not to be held -at bay so easily, and she went through. By that time the runner with -the ball was well over toward the side-line on his left and when his -wall of interference disintegrated he stopped suddenly in his journey, -wheeled about and threw the pigskin diagonally across the field to -where, lamentably ostracized by Alton, the attenuated full-back was -ambling along most unostentatiously. That throw was magnificent both as -to distance and accuracy, and it reached the full-back at a moment when -the nearest Alton player was a good twenty feet distant. What deserved -to be a touchdown, however, resulted in only a seventeen-yard gain, for -the full-back, catching close to the side-line, with Slim Staples hard -on his heels and Appel coming down on him in front, made the mistake of -not edging out into the field while there was still time. The result -of this error in tactics was one false step that put a flying foot -barely outside the whitewashed streak at the thirty-two yards. I think -the referee hated to see that misstep, for if ever a team deserved -a touchdown that team was Mt. Millard. Even the Alton stands had to -applaud that play. - -Mt. Millard went back to regular formation when the ball had been -stepped in, and I think Alton breathed easier. The diminutive -quarterback used a delayed pass and himself attempted Slim’s end and -managed to squirm around for three yards. That took the pigskin to -Alton’s twenty-nine, and with three more downs to draw on there seemed -no reason why the visitors shouldn’t score a field-goal at least. -The Alton stands chanted the “Hold, Alton!” slogan and the visiting -contingent shouted loudly and appealingly for a touchdown. The Mt. -Millard left half moved back to kicking position and the ball was -passed. But, instead of a drop-kick, there was a puzzling double-pass -behind the enemy’s line and an end, running behind, shot out at the -right with the ball snuggled against his stomach and ran wide behind a -clever interference to the sixteen yards. Again it was first down, and -the enemy had reeled off just fifty-four yards in four plays! It was -one of those things that simply couldn’t be done--and had been done! - -Before Marsh could call his signals again the quarter ended. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -VICTORY HARD WON - - -The long-suffering reader mustn’t think that I have any intention of -inflicting on him a detailed account of the remaining three periods of -that game. I have offended sufficiently already. Besides, it was that -first period, with a few moments of the second, and the last quarter -only that held the high lights. The in-between was interesting to -watch, but it would be dull reading. - -Mt. Millard started the second period on Alton’s sixteen and, perhaps -just to show that she could perform the feat against a still bewildered -opponent, slashed a back through between Newton and Renneker for three -yards on a fake run around end. Of course had she tried such a thing a -second time it wouldn’t have come off, but Marsh had no intention of -trying it. He deployed his ends, sent his goal-kicker back and then -heaved across the center of the line. Fortunately for the defenders of -the south goal, Reilly knocked down the ball. After that there wasn’t -much left for Mt. Millard but a try-at-goal, and after a conference -between captain and quarter the try was made. The kicker retreated -a good twelve yards from his center, which took him close to the -twenty-five line, a retreat that in view of subsequent happenings was -well advised. For Alton, stung by recent reverses, piled through the -Mt. Millard forwards and hurled aside the guardian backs. It was just -those added yards that defeated her. The ball, hurtling away from the -kicker’s toe, passed safely above upstretched hands and sailed over the -cross-bar. - -Mt. Millard did a few hand-springs while a 3 was placed to her credit -on the score-board, and her delighted supporters yelled themselves -hoarse. There was noticeable lack of enthusiasm on the other side of -the field, although by the time the opponents again faced each other -for the kick-off the Alton cheerers had found their voices again. The -balance of the second period held its moments of excitement, but on -the whole it was tame and colorless after that first quarter. Alton, -regaining the ball after she had kicked it off, started another -pilgrimage to the distant goal, smearing the enemy with hard, old-style -football and eating up ground steadily if slowly. Once Menge got safely -away around the Mt. Millard left end and shot over sixteen yards of -trampled turf before an enemy stood him on his head, but for the rest -it was gruelling work, the more gruelling as the attack drew near the -edge of scoring territory. If Mt. Millard was light of weight she -was nevertheless game, and seldom indeed did the Alton attack get -started before the enemy was half-way to meet it. Reilly gave place -to Kendall in the middle of the journey, and Smedley to Stimson. Mt. -Millard likewise called on two fresh recruits to strengthen her line. -Alton hammered her way to the Mt. Millard twenty-eight yards and there -struck a snag. Greenwood failed to gain at the center, Kendall was -repulsed for a slight loss, Greenwood made four on a wide run from -kicking position, and then, with seven to gain on fourth down, it was -put up to Captain Emerson, and that youth tried hard to tie the score -with a placement-kick from just back of the thirty yards. The aim was -true enough, but Rus hadn’t put quite enough into the swing of his -leg and the ball passed just under the bar, so close to it, indeed, -that deceived Alton supporters cheered loudly and long before they -discovered their error. Mt. Millard kicked on second down and the few -plays that brought the half to an end were all in Alton territory. - -The visitor presented the same line-up when the third quarter began. -For Alton, Red Reilly was back at right half and Garrick was at -center in place of Newton. Alton was expected to return refreshed -and determined and wreak swift vengeance on the foe, and the anxious -cheerers gave the players a fine welcome when they trotted back to -the gridiron. But although the Gray-and-Gold seemed to have profited -by the interim and played with more skill than before, Mt. Millard -was still clever enough to hold her off during the succeeding twelve -minutes. Alton tried three forward-passes and made one of them good. -This brought a reward of fourteen yards. Another pass grounded and -a third went to Mt. Millard. To offset that fourteen yards, the -Gray-and-Gold was twice penalized for off-side. Twice Alton reached -the enemy’s thirty-yard line only to be turned back. The first time -Greenwood missed the pass for a six-yard loss and was forced to punt -and the other time Mt. Millard intercepted Appel’s toss across the left -wing. When, at last, the whistle once more sounded, the ball was in -Alton’s hands close to Mt. Millard’s forty-yard line. The teams changed -goals and the final period started. - -Greenwood got seven yards outside right tackle and put the ball on Mt. -Millard’s thirty-four. Menge made one through left guard. With two to -go, Greenwood smashed through the left of center for six, but the horn -sounded and the ball was put back fifteen yards for holding. Greenwood -ran from kicking position, but a ubiquitous Mt. Millard end dumped him -well back of the line. Greenwood punted to the corner of the field and -the ball rolled across the goal-line. Mt. Millard got four yards in two -plunges at Stimson and then made the rest of her distance by sending a -half around Slim’s end. Another attempt at Stimson was good for three -yards, but when the full-back tried Renneker he was stopped short. On -third down Marsh threw across the field to a waiting half, but Slim -knocked the ball aside just short of the receiver’s hands. Mt. Millard -punted to Alton’s twenty-eight and Appel caught and by clever dodging -raced back to the forty-one. - -Then Alton’s big drive began. Using a tackles-back shift, Appel sent -Greenwood and Reilly and again Greenwood at the Mt. Millard line, first -on one side of center and then on the other, and took the pigskin into -the enemy’s country. Then Menge got three around left and Slim, running -behind, added three more on a wide expedition in the same direction. -Greenwood threw short across the center to Captain Emerson, and Rus -made five before he was thrown. From the thirty-seven the ball went -more slowly, but no less certainly to the twenty-five. There a skin -tackle play at the right gained but a yard, and Greenwood again threw -forward, the ball grounding. From kick formation Greenwood raced around -left for five. With six to go he stood back as if to try a goal, but -the ball went to Reilly who, with the right tackle ahead of him, dug a -passage through center and made the necessary four yards. After that -there was no stopping the invasion. From the fifteen to the four Reilly -and Greenwood, alternating, went in four tries. With the Alton stand -cheering madly, imploringly, little Menge slid around left end while -the attack was faked at the center and made the one-yard. From there -Greenwood was pushed over on the second attempt. - -When the teams lined up on the five-yard line it was Captain Emerson -who went back for the try-at-goal. This time, the line holding stoutly, -he had no difficulty in placing the ball over the bar, and it was -Alton’s turn to celebrate. At last, it seemed, the hoodoo had been -broken and Mt. Millard defeated. - -There remained, however, more than six minutes of playing time, and -much might happen in six minutes. Much did happen, for when, having -kicked off to Alton and forced the latter to punt after once gaining -her distance, Mt. Millard went back to her bag of tricks. Some of -the things she tried were weird and some risky, so risky that only -desperation could have counseled them. But too frequently they were -successful. A wide formation with both ends on one side of the line -and the tackles on the other was good for a twelve-yard gain when the -ball was shot obliquely across the field. The runner was spilled before -he could get started by Rus Emerson, but twelve yards was enough to -move the stakes to a new location. After a plunge at the line, good for -two yards, the enemy used the same formation again. But this time a -quartering run by a half-back eventuated and was stopped almost at the -line. Again Mt. Millard tried a long forward-pass. The receiver was out -of position and the ball came back. Faking a punt, the full-back hit -the Alton line and went through for eight yards, placing the ball on -Alton’s forty-six. - -Desperately indeed the visitor waged the attack. Mr. Cade sent in three -fresh players; Wilde for Stimson, Kerrison for Emerson and Dakin for -Reilly. Mt. Millard had already made several substitutions, one a guard -who gave Gordon Renneker a hard battle. Forced to punt at last, Mt. -Millard sent the ball over the goal-line, and Alton lined up on the -twenty. Here it was that Dakin nearly upset the apple-cart. Plunging at -tackle on his own side, he let go of the ball, and it trickled across -the field with about every warrior after it. It was Slim who finally -fell on it on his own eight yards. - -Goodwin, standing astride the goal-line, punted on first down, but the -ball went high and short, passing out of bounds at the twenty-six, -and from there Mt. Millard started again with unabated determination. -Greenwood was replaced by Goodwin. A forward-pass made a scant seven -yards for the besiegers. Then, from wide-open formation, came another. -This time three backs handled the pigskin before it was finally thrown. -It would have scored a touchdown had it been caught, but there were -two Alton men on the spot, and the Mt. Millard end had no chance. Then -the enemy hustled into kick-formation and Alton breathed a sigh of -relief. Even if the enemy secured another field-goal the game would -still be Alton’s. Perhaps Mt. Millard had that knowledge in mind, for -she didn’t kick, after all. Standing back near the twenty-five-yard -streak, Quarterback Marsh poised the ball in the palm of his hand, a -tiny motionless figure amidst a maelstrom of rushing forms. Cries of -warning filled the air. Marsh, as if unaware of the enemy plunging down -on him, surveyed the field. Then, just as Billy Wells bore down with -arms upstretched, Marsh side-stepped easily and threw to where, beyond -the goal-line, a Mt. Millard end was wheeling into position. Scarcely -above the finger-tips of the leaping Alton players sped the oval, fast -and straight. The Mt. Millard end ran forward a step, poised for the -catch. And then Nemesis in the shape of Slim Staples took a hand. Slim, -crashing off a goal-post, staggered into the path of the ball, leaped -upward and closed his hands about it. Then he went down into a sea of -massing players and a whistle blew shrilly. - -The game was over and Alton had won it, 7 to 3. Mt. Millard had staked -all on that final play and lost, but there was more honor accruing from -that heroic attempt than would have been hers had she secured that -field-goal. Defeated but far from disheartened, the tiny quarterback -summoned his teammates and cheered heartily if hoarsely for the -victors. And Alton, returning the cheer with no more breath than the -losers, paid homage to a gallant foe. - -Slim emerged from that contest something of a hero and with his right -and title to the left end position unassailable. Smedley emerged less -fortunately, for he had wrenched a knee so badly that his future use -to the team was more than doubtful. There were many other injuries, -but none serious. Alton was joyous over having at last won a game -from the enemy, but by the next day she was weighing the pros and -cons and unwillingly reaching the conclusion that, on the whole, the -Gray-and-Gold had a long way to go before she would be in position to -face Kenly Hall with better than a one to two chance of winning. There -were plenty who stated emphatically that Mt. Millard should have had -that game, basing their contention on the more varied and brilliant -attack of the visitor. But there were plenty of others who stoutly -held that the better team had won, just as the better team does win -ninety-nine times in a hundred, and that even allowing Mt. Millard -less weight and a far more dazzling and puzzling offense Alton had -been there with the good old straight football stuff that wins games. -That Mr. Cade was satisfied with the team’s showing is very doubtful, -but then coaches are like that. They never are satisfied quite. Johnny -didn’t say anything to lead any one to think he was not content. That -was the trouble. He said too little. Those veterans who knew him well -understood perfectly that Johnny Cade was not mentally shaking hands -with himself! - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -AN EVENING CALL - - -That evening Slim, with his hand prettily painted with iodine, had an -engagement that excluded Leonard, and the latter, having no liking for -a Saturday evening alone, called up Johnny McGrath on the telephone, -found that that youth was to be at home and then walked over to 102 -Melrose avenue. - -Not only Johnny, but most of Johnny’s family was at home, and Leonard -was introduced to Mrs. McGrath and Mr. McGrath and young Cullen; -Johnny’s elder brother was married and lived elsewhere. Leonard liked -Mr. and Mrs. McGrath instantly. They were just what they seemed--and -vice versa--a thoroughly nice, warm-hearted couple, uncultured but wise -and shrewd and well-mannered. Perhaps Leonard took to them the more -readily because they made him see at once that they were ready and even -anxious to like him. Although Leonard couldn’t know it, Johnny had -spoken frequently of him, and any one approved of by Johnny was bound -to be welcomed by Johnny’s parents. And, another thing that Leonard -didn’t know, even if he suspected it later, very few of Johnny’s -school acquaintances ever came to his home. - -Leonard wasn’t filled with instant liking for Cullen, for the younger -brother was at the difficult age of thirteen and was long of leg and -awkward of speech and movement, a freckle-faced youngster who, knowing -of the visitor’s connection with the Alton football team, viewed him -with piercing intentness and at intervals broke into the general -conversation with startlingly inopportune questions. Leonard wasn’t -quite at his ease until, after a half-hour downstairs, Johnny conveyed -him up to his room on the third floor, sternly forbidding the ready -Cullen to follow. - -That room was quite wonderful, Leonard thought, comparing it to his -own small room at home. It was very large, fully twenty feet square, -with four big windows framed in gay cretonne and white muslin, two huge -closets and book-shelves that went all across one wall. Those shelves -made a great hit with the visitor. They were just elbow-high and they -had no pesky glass doors in front of them. You could take a book out -without the least effort, and you could lay it on top of the shelves -and look at it if you didn’t want to carry it to a chair. And that was -just what Leonard was doing presently. Johnny had more books than the -caller had ever seen outside a public library! And such books, too! -A full set of the best encyclopedia, all sorts of dictionaries--not -only of words, but of places and dates and phrases--and all of -Stevenson and Dickens, and Green’s and Prescott’s histories, and the -Badminton Library and lots and lots of other books in sets or single -volumes. Leonard thought of his own scanty collection of some two-score -tomes--many of them reminders of nursery days--and for a moment was -very envious. Then envy passed, and he silently determined to some day -have a library as big and complete as Johnny’s. - -The room was plainly furnished, but everything in it was designed for -both comfort and use, a fact that Leonard recognized and that caused -him to realize for perhaps the first time that with furniture as with -everything else real beauty was founded on usefulness, was intrinsic -and not external. Everything in this room was just what it appeared to -be. Not a single object masqueraded as something else. Leonard liked it -all enormously and said so emphatically, and Johnny was pleased. You -could see that. - -“I’m glad you like it,” he answered almost gratefully. “Dad let me buy -everything myself. I could have got stuff that looked a lot--well, a -lot grander, do you mind; things with carved legs and all that sort of -flummery; but I sort of like plainer things better.” - -Leonard nodded, looking about the big, pleasantly lighted apartment. -“So do I,” he agreed, although five minutes ago, had you asked him, he -wouldn’t have known! “Some room, McGrath,” he went on approvingly. “And -there’s a light just about everywhere, isn’t there?” - -It did seem so. There was a plain brass standard by the wicker couch, -two smaller hood-shaded lights atop the book-shelves, a hanging bulb -over the broad chiffonier, a squat lamp on the big, round table and -a funny little blue enameled affair on the stand by the head of the -bed. Only the table lamp was lighted, but the soft glow radiated to -every corner of the room. Leonard’s gaze went back to the many shelves -opposite. - -“Did you buy all those books yourself?” he asked. - -“Oh, no, only maybe a third of them. The folks gave me the others. They -know I’m fond of them. Joe always gives me books at Christmas and my -birthday.” He saw the unuttered question in Leonard’s face and smiled -as he added: “They always ask me what I want, though, first.” - -Leonard got up then and prowled. He looked at the four pictures in -plain dark-oak frames: “The Retreat from Moscow”; a quaint print of an -elderly man standing before a second-hand bookstall on a Paris quay -holding a huge umbrella overhead while, with one volume tucked under an -arm, he peered near-sightedly into a second; a photograph of Hadrian’s -Tomb and a Dutch etching of a whirling windmill, with bent sedges about -a little pool and an old woman bending against the wind. - -“I like that one a lot,” explained Johnny. “Can’t you just see--no, -I mean feel the wind? I’d like to go to Holland some day. It must be -fine, I’m thinking.” - -Leonard had a go at the books next, Johnny pulling forth his special -treasures for him. After awhile they sat down again and talked, and -when, as was to be expected, football came up for discussion, the -discussion became animated. Although Johnny didn’t play, he was a keen -critic--and a fearless one. “There’s two or three fellows on the team,” -he declared after the day’s contest had been gone over, “that would be -better for a vacation, to my mind. Put them on the bench for a week, -maybe, and they’d come back and earn their keep.” - -Leonard wanted to know the names of the gentlemen, but wasn’t sure -he ought to ask. Johnny supplied them, however, without urging. -“It’s Smedley and Garrick and that big Renneker I’m thinking of,” he -explained. “Take Smedley, now, sure he’s a good man, but he don’t ever -spit on his hands and get to work, Grant. It’s the same way with the -other two, especially Renneker. He’s asleep at the switch half the -time.” - -“But I thought he played a pretty good game to-day,” objected Leonard. - -“He did, but what’s a ‘pretty good game’ for a fellow who’s made the -All-Scholastic?” asked Johnny witheringly. “Sure, ’tis no game at all. -He has the height of a camel and the weight of a whale, and does he use -either intelligently? He does not! I’m no football player, Grant--or -should I be calling you General?--but I can see with half an eye, and -that one shut, that the lad isn’t earning his salary.” - -“He doesn’t get any,” laughed Leonard. - -“I know, that was a figure of speech,” answered the other. “Though, by -the same token, I’ll bet he’d take the salary if it was offered.” - -“You mean--” Leonard stopped. Then he added: “Slim thinks you maybe -made a mistake about Renneker that time.” - -“I thought so myself,” responded Johnny. “But this afternoon I got -Jimsy Carnochan to go to the game with me. Mind you, I said no word to -him about Renneker or Ralston or any one else. I just wanted to see -would he notice anything. Well, in the third quarter, when the play was -close to where we were sitting, Jimsy said to me, ‘Who’s the big fellow -there playing right guard?’ ‘On which team?’ I asked him. ‘On Alton.’ -‘His name’s Gordon Renneker.’ ‘Like fun,’ said Jimsy. ‘If it is my -name’s Napoleon Bonaparte! Don’t you mind the fellow that played first -base in New Haven last summer for the Maple Leaf team? I’ve forgotten -his name, but ’twill come to me.’ ‘Ralston, do you mean?’ I asked him. -‘Ralston! That’s the guy! What’s he calling himself out of his name -for now?’ ‘Sure,’ I said, ‘you’re mistaken. There’s a similarity, I’ll -acknowledge, but this fellow is Gordon Renneker, a fine lad that got -placed on the All-Scholastic Team last year.’ ‘Maybe he was placed -on it, whatever it is,’ said Jimsy, ‘and he’s likewise placed in my -memory, for the big piece of cheese caught me with my foot off the bag, -and I’m not forgetting any guy that does that!’ Well, I told him that -he couldn’t be certain, seeing that you’re always reading about people -that look so much alike their own mothers can’t tell them apart, maybe; -and I minded him of a moving picture play that was here no longer ago -than last August where one man takes another man’s place in Parliament -and no one knows any different. And finally I said to him: ‘Whatever -you may be thinking, Jimsy, keep it to yourself, for if it turned out -that you were mistaken you’d feel mighty small, what with getting an -innocent fellow into trouble.’ So there’s no fear of Jimsy talking, -General.” - -Leonard looked perplexed. “It’s awfully funny,” he said finally. -“Renneker isn’t at all the sort of fellow you’d think to find playing -baseball for money. Look at the clothes he wears, and--and the -impression he gives you. Why, he must have plenty of money, McGrath.” - -“You’d think so. Still, I mind the time when I had all the good clothes -I could get on my back and would have been glad of the chance of -picking up a bit of money. Although,” added Johnny, “I don’t think I’d -change my name to do it.” - -“Well,” said Leonard, shaking his head in puzzlement, “I can’t get it. -What’s troubling me, though, is this. Knowing what we do--or suspecting -it, rather--ought we to tell some one? I mean Coach Cade or Rus Emerson -or faculty.” - -“I’m wondering that myself,” said Johnny, frowning. “Maybe it’s no -business of mine, though, for I’m not connected with football--” - -“What difference does that make?” Leonard demanded. “You’re an Alton -fellow, aren’t you? If what you suspect about Gordon Renneker is true -he ought not to be allowed to play for Alton, and as an Alton student--” - -“Sure, that’s true enough,” agreed Johnny ruefully. “I was fearing -you’d say that. I’ve said it to myself already.” He grinned across -at his guest. After a moment he continued: “There’s this about it, -though, General. I’ve no proof, no real proof, I mean. Like I told -Jimsy Carnochan, it might be I was mislead by one of those strange -resemblances that you read of.” - -“Yes,” answered Leonard without conviction. “You might be. I guess -you’ll just have to do as you think best.” - -Johnny’s eyes twinkled. “Sure, and how about you?” he asked innocently. - -“Me?” - -“Yes, for I’ve told you all there is to be told. How about you speaking -of it to the coach or some one?” - -“Gee, I couldn’t!” Leonard protested. “I’m playing on the team, or, -anyway, the squad, and it wouldn’t look very well for me to--to prefer -charges against another member, now would it?” - -Johnny laughed merrily. “I can’t do it because I’m not on the team, and -you can’t do it because you are!” Then he sobered. “We’ll leave it as -it is,” he decided. “I want to do what’s right, but I don’t know that -it would be right to accuse Renneker of this with no real proof to -back up the charge with. Besides, if he plays no better game than he’s -been playing, ’twill work no injustice to the teams we meet, for, with -him out of it, the coach might put in a fellow that would be a sight -better.” - -“Do you think I’d better say anything to Slim about what happened -to-day?” asked Leonard. - -“I wouldn’t,” said Johnny dryly. “’Twould only worry him. Slim’s all -for sticking his head in the sand, like an ostrich, and there’s no call -to be twitching his tail-feathers!” - -Leonard had to laugh at that, and no more was said on the subject -that evening. In fact, the evening was about gone. At the front door, -Johnny, bidding the caller “Good night,” added a bit wistfully: “’Twas -fine of you to come and see me, Grant, and I appreciate it. I’d be -liking it if you’d come again some time.” - -“Why, I liked it myself,” laughed Leonard from the steps. “And I surely -will come again. And, say, why don’t you ever come and see Slim and me?” - -“Well, I don’t know,” answered Johnny. “Maybe I might some time.” - -“I wish you would,” Leonard assured him. “We’re almost always at home -evenings.” - -Going on down the hill, Leonard reflected that the probable reason why -Johnny had never called at Number 12 Haylow was that he had never been -asked. - -The doors were still open when Leonard reached Haylow, but ten o’clock -struck just as he was climbing the stairs. In Number 12 the light was -burning and in the bed at the left Slim was fast asleep, a magazine -spread open across his chest. Leonard set about preparing for slumber -with stealthy movements. Perhaps he need not have taken so much -trouble, though, for when he inadvertently knocked a French dictionary -from the corner of the table and it fell with a slam loud enough to -make him jump an inch off the floor Slim didn’t even stir. It was not -until Leonard was in his pajamas that his gaze happened on a half-sheet -of paper pinned squarely in the middle of his pillow. He held it to the -light and read: - - “If I’m asleep when you return - Then wake me up, I pray, - For there is something that I yearn - 2 you 2 night 2 say.” - -Leonard smiled and turned doubtfully toward the sleeper. It seemed too -bad to awaken him. Whatever it was that he had to tell could doubtless -wait for morning. Still, Slim never had any trouble getting to sleep, -and so-- - -“Wake up, Slim!” Leonard shook him gently. Slim slumbered on. “_Slim!_ -Here, snap out of it! _Hi, Slim!_” Slim muttered and strove to slip -away from the rough, disturbing grasp. “No, you don’t! You wanted to be -waked up, and I’m going”--shake--“to wake you up”--shake--“if it takes -all night!” Slim opened his eyes half an inch and observed Leonard with -mild interest. Then: - -“That you, General?” he muttered. - -“Yes.” - -“Good night.” - -“Hold on! What was it you wanted to say to me, you silly coot?” - -“Huh?” - -“Come awake a minute. You left a note on my pillow--something you -wanted to say to me--remember?” - -“Yes,” answered Slim sleepily. - -“Well, say it then!” - -“I did. That was it.” - -“What was it?” - -“‘Good night.’” - -Slim turned his back and pulled the clothes up over his ears. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -MR. CADE MAKES AN ENTRY - - -The next afternoon when Leonard clumped down the steps of the gymnasium -clad for practice a gust of cold air swept around the corner from the -north-west and reminded him that November was two days old. The sky was -gray and clouds sailed low overhead. Fallen leaves played prankishly -along the walks and eddied into quiet harbors about the buildings. -After the warm, moist air of the locker room the outdoor world felt -chill indeed, and Leonard, trudging briskly toward the gridiron, rolled -his hands in the edge of his old sweater. It was a day, though, that -made the blood move fast and called for action. Leonard, to use his own -phrase, felt full of “pep.” They couldn’t work a fellow too hard or too -fast on such an afternoon. - -Practice went off at a new gait, and when, routine work over, those -who had played through Saturday’s game were released and Mr. Fadden’s -charges romped over from the second team gridiron, every one knew that -fur was going to fly. And fly it did. A fellow had to work and keep -on working just to be comfortably warm, but besides that there was -a quality in the harshly chill wind that would have made an oyster -ambitious and put speed into a snail. The second started in with lots -of ginger and smeared up Carpenter’s run-back of the kick-off, and -after that held the first and made her punt from her twenty-two yards. -After that it was hammer-and-tongs, the rival coaches barking out -directions and criticisms and hopping about on the edge of the scrap -in the most absorbed way. If every one hadn’t been too much interested -with the battle the spectacle of Mr. Fadden hopping might have -occasioned amusement! - -The first presented a line-up of substitutes, with Gurley and Kerrison -playing end, Lawrence and Cash tackle, Squibbs and Falls guard, Muller -center, Carpenter quarter, Kendall and Goodwin half and Dakin full. -Leonard, huddled in a blanket on the bench, forgot the cold in the -cheering knowledge that sooner or later Johnny Cade would be sure -to call on him. Johnny Cade did, but not until the second period. -Meanwhile Lawrence and Cash took plenty of punishment from the cocky -scrubs but managed to hold out. Second was certainly on her toes this -afternoon, and nothing the first could do prevented her from scoring. -It was only a field-goal, for the first, pushed down the field to her -twenty-yard line, held gamely through three downs, but it meant three -points for the scrubs and much exulting. With a strong wind almost -behind him, the second’s left half could hardly have failed to boot the -pigskin over. - -First wrested the ball away from second a minute or so later and -started a march toward the opponent’s goal. Kendall got away with a -nice run of a dozen yards, and Dakin twice got half that distance -through left guard. Goodwin plugged hard, but it was not his day. -Carpenter tried a quarterback run and made it good for eight yards, -placing the ball on second’s twenty-four. Kendall went back and faked -a try-at-goal, taking the pigskin on a wide end run that netted him -little but exercise. Then a forward-pass was tried, but, short as it -was, the wind bore it down, and first was lucky not to lose possession -of it. With two downs left, Kendall again threatened a field-goal, but -passed the ball to Dakin, and the full-back smashed through the enemy -left for four. On the same play Dakin added enough to make it first -down on the fourteen. Then, with first already tasting success, the -whistle ended the period! - -The scrubs crossed the field to sit in a closely huddled group like a -lot of blanketed Indians and Leonard watched Mr. Cade hopefully. But -when the second period started the coach made but two changes in his -line-up. Raleigh went in at right guard and Wilde at right tackle. -Leonard, disappointed, looked searchingly up and down the bench. So far -as he knew he was the only tackle remaining. In fact, only less than a -dozen fellows were left now, and he didn’t think there was a lineman -among them. He didn’t wish Lawrence any bad luck, but it did seem that -he had played about long enough! - -First had a streak of luck right at the start of that period, for -a second team back fumbled on his forty-four and, although second -recovered the ball, the next line-up was close to the twenty-five-yard -line. Two punches and then a punt into the gale that carried a scant -twenty yards, and the ball was first’s in scrub territory. The first -attack sent Goodwin at the enemy’s center for a two-yard gain and when -the warriors had disentangled themselves one form remained on the -ground. Jake seized water bottle and sponge and trotted out. “That’s -Raleigh,” said the fellow at Leonard’s right. - -“Sure?” asked Leonard anxiously. “I thought maybe it was Lawrence. No, -there’s Lawrence. You a guard?” - -The neighbor shook his head sadly. “Half,” he answered. - -They had Raleigh standing up now and Jake was leading him toward the -bench. Coach Cade’s voice came imperatively. - -“First team guard!” he called. - -The trainer echoed the summons impatiently as he neared the bench. -“Come on, one of you guards!” - -Leonard threw off his blanket and bent mutely to the neighbor and the -substitute halfback seized his sweater while Leonard pulled himself out -of it. Then he dashed onto the gridiron. Jake was a dozen feet away, -still supporting the scowling Raleigh. - -“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Deaf? Didn’t you hear the coach -yelling?” Then he stared harder, at Leonard’s back now, and called -suddenly: “Here! You ain’t a guard!” - -But Leonard paid no heed. Perhaps the wind bore the words away from -him. He went on, aware, as he gained the waiting squad, of the coach’s -puzzled gaze. - -“I called for a guard, Grant,” said Mr. Cade. - -“Yes, sir,” answered Leonard. “I’ve played guard two seasons.” - -“Maybe, but you’re not a guard now. Send some one else on. Isn’t there -any one there?” - -“No, sir.” - -Mr. Cade shrugged. “All right. You take it then. You deserve it, I’m -blessed if you don’t! Come on now, First Team! Let’s get going! All -right, Quarter!” - -Leonard stepped in between Garrick and Cash, Carpenter chanted his -signal and the lines ground together. Why, this was easy, reflected -Leonard. It was just like old times. He knew what to do here. When you -were a guard you were a guard and nothing else. You didn’t have to -understudy your next door neighbor and go prancing around like a silly -end! Of course, when a shift took you around to the other side of the -line, as it was doing now-- - -Leonard whanged into an opponent and tipped him neatly aside as -Kendall came spinning through. Three yards, easy. Maybe four. This -was “pie!” He got back to his place again and grinned at his second -team adversary. The scrub player answered the grin with a malignant -scowl. Leonard laughed to himself. He always liked the other fellow -to get good and peeved; that made it easier. Dakin was stopped short -on the next play and Kendall went back. A second team back tried to -sneak inside of Leonard, and Leonard gave him a welcoming shoulder. -Then there was the thud of the ball and he pushed an adversary aside -and sped down the field, the gale behind him helping him on. He was -under the ball all the way and was hard by when Kerrison upset the -scrub quarter for no gain. The pigskin was on the second’s fourteen -now, and the second realized its difficulties. Kicking into that wind -was a thankless job. If you kicked low your ends couldn’t cover the -punt. If you kicked high you made no distance. Even a forward-pass, -were you rash enough to attempt it under your own goal-posts, was -doubly risky. So second tried hard to get a half-back around an end, -first at Gurley’s post and then at Kerrison’s, and made but four yards -altogether. It seemed then that second must punt, but she had one more -trick up her sleeve. She sent an end far out to the left, shifted to -the right and sent the full-back straight ahead. Well, that wasn’t so -bad, for it added another four yards to her total. But it was fourth -down, and the wind still blew hard against her, and punt she must at -last. So punt she tried to. - -That she didn’t was primarily due to the ease with which Leonard -disposed of his man and went romping through the scrub line, quite -alone for the instant. A half met him, and the impact, since Leonard -had his hands thrown high, almost drove the breath from his body. -Yet the damage was done, for the second team kicker was too hurried -to punt. Instead, he tucked the ball to his elbow and shot off to -the right in a desperate attempt to circle the first team’s end. But -there was Gurley to be considered, and Gurley dropped his man very -expeditiously and neatly for a six-yard loss. Whereupon first took the -ball, lined up on the scrub’s sixteen and hammered Goodwin and Dakin -over for the score. - -Then Kendall booted a nice goal and made it seven points, and going -back up the field Carpenter and Dakin and half a dozen others whacked -Leonard on the back and pantingly told him that he was “all right,” -or words to that effect. Then first kicked off again and went after -another touchdown. You might criticize the second’s science, but you -had to acknowledge that when it came to fight she was right on hand! -Second didn’t hold with Mr. Cade or Quarterback Carpenter when they -assured the first that there was another score to be had. Second denied -it loudly and with ridicule. She dared first to try to get another -score. First accepted the challenge with ejaculations of derision and -the trouble began again. - -You mustn’t think that Leonard played through some ten minutes without -receiving his share of censure from the coach and the quarterback, for -nothing like that happened. Mr. Cade showed little partiality, and -every one came in for criticism or rebuke. What Carpenter said worried -Leonard very little. Quarterbacks are always nagging a fellow. But he -did wish, toward the last, that Mr. Cade would stop barking at him. Of -course he knew that he didn’t play the position perfectly, but he was -doing his best, gosh ding it, and no one was making any gains through -him! If only he was a little bigger and had more beef he’d show Johnny -some real playing! - -As it was, though, he was doing so well that the coach was secretly -marvelling. Mr. Cade viewed Leonard’s height and his none too broad -shoulders and then glanced at the big Garrick on one side and the rangy -Cash on the other and wondered. “When,” reflected the coach, “he told -me he was a guard he knew what he was talking about!” Much of Leonard’s -success this afternoon was due to following Billy Wells’ advice. -Leonard looked his man in the eye and discovered that, in some strange -fashion, he could tell what the chap was going to do a fraction of a -second before he started to do it. It was almost like mind-reading, -Leonard thought. And he profited, too, by the other tips that Billy had -given him. He couldn’t adopt Billy’s stance thoroughly, but he did try -a modified form of it and found that it gave him a quicker start. And -to-day no one drove his head back and made him see whole constellations -of wonderful stars! No, sir, the old chin was right in against the neck! - -First didn’t succeed in scoring again, but she did throw a scare into -the adversary in the final minute of play. By that time Leonard’s -original opponent had been replaced by a fresher but, as it was soon -proved, no more formidable youth, and Mr. Fadden had made other -substitutions in his array of talent. So, too, had Mr. Cade, although -the latter’s resources were nearly exhausted. Cruikshank went in for -Carpenter, and a new half-back appeared. Cruikshank brought a little -more “pep” to the first, and she got the pigskin down to second’s -twenty-eight yards. There, however, the enemy stiffened and tightened -and took the ball away on downs. Wisely, she elected to punt on first -down, but there was a poor pass, and the ball was missed entirely -by the kicker. It hit him somewhere around the feet and bounded to -one side. Instantly twenty-two youths made for it. Some four or -five reached it more or less simultaneously. Of the number was the -first team right guard. How that happened was a subject of official -investigation later by Mr. Fadden. However, the second team’s troubles -are not ours. What interests us is the fact that not only was Leonard -the first man through the second team line but he was the first man -to lay hand on the ball. He accomplished the latter feat by diving -between two hesitant adversaries and, being doubtless favored by luck, -capturing the erratic pigskin during one brief instant of quiescence. -A fraction of a second later that ball would have toppled this way -or that, or jumped into the air, eluding Leonard’s grasp just as it -had eluded others’, but at the instant it had presumably paused for -breath. Anyhow, Leonard reached it and pulled it under him and tucked -his head out of the way. Then half a dozen of the opponents sat on him -more or less violently or tried to get covetous hands on the prize. -The whistle blew and finally he breathed again. Having been pulled -to his feet, his breathing was again disturbed by emphatic blows on -his back or shoulders accompanied by brief but hearty expression of -commendation. He was still fighting for breath when Cruikshank piped -his signal, and Dakin drove harmlessly into the second team line. Then, -to the intense disgust of the first and the vast relief of the second, -with the ball on the seventeen yards and a score as sure as shooting, -some idiot blew a whistle! - -There was almost a scrap about that. Up in the locker room Dakin -accused Winship, the assistant manager who had acted as timekeeper, of -having cheated the first of a score. “Time,” answered Winship coldly, -“was up when the whistle blew.” “Yah,” responded Dakin impolitely. -“You’re crazy! You didn’t see straight! Bet you there was a good thirty -seconds left!” “There was not! If anything, you had a second more than -was coming to you, for the whistle didn’t blow until I’d called to -Tenney twice. No use being sore at me, Dakin. Much better have done -something when you had the ball that time!” “Is that so?” snarled the -full-back. “How’d I know you were going to cheat us out of--” “Don’t -you say I cheated!” “Well, what do you call it, you fathead? Step up to -the gym with me if you’re looking for trouble!” - -But some of the others stepped in just there, and hostilities were -prevented, and somewhat later Dakin, having been cooled by an icy -shower-bath, apologized handsomely and the entente cordiale was -reëstablished. - -That evening, his briar pipe drawing nicely and his feet comfortably -elevated, Coach Cade turned the pages of his little memorandum book -and made marks here and there. Once he reversed his pencil and, using -the rubber-tipped end of it, expunged a name entirely. The last thing -he did was to draw a black mark through the words “Grant, Leonard” and -through half a dozen mysterious hieroglyphics that followed them and -then, turning a page, enter the same words again very carefully in his -small characters. At the top of the latter page was the inscription -“Guards.” - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -A TIP FROM MCGRATH - - -Leonard regretted that Slim hadn’t been at the field during scrimmage -that afternoon, for he wanted Slim to know that he had--well, done not -so badly. All he told the other, though, when they met before supper -was that Johnny had run out of guards and that he had played at right -for awhile. - -“Guard?” said Slim in surprise. “You mean Johnny stood for it?” Slim -frowned. “Look here, General, let me give you a word of advice. You -never get anywhere by changing jobs. You stick to being a tackle. The -next time Johnny wants to shift you to some other position you put your -foot down.” - -“It wasn’t Johnny did it, Slim. They yelled for a guard and I ran on.” - -“More fool you, son. You’ve got to specialize, or you’ll just sit on -the bench forever and ever. The fellow that does a little of everything -never does much of anything, as some one once very wisely remarked. How -did you get along?” - -“All right,” answered Leonard. “It was easier than tackle, Slim. I--I -was more at home there, I suppose.” - -“Huh,” grumbled Slim, “don’t get to looking for the easy jobs, General. -You stay put, young feller. Why, only a couple of days ago Billy Wells -was telling me what a wonderful tackle you’d make!” - -“Wells was?” exclaimed Leonard. “Get out, Slim!” - -“He was, honest to goodness! Why, Billy’s a--a great admirer of yours, -General. He said more nice things about your playing than I ever heard -him say about any fellow’s--not excepting his own! And now you go and -let them make a goat of you. Too bad, son.” - -“We-ell, I’ve half a notion that Johnny will let me play guard after -this,” said Leonard. It was more a hope than a notion, though. Slim -shook his head doubtfully. - -“I wouldn’t bank on it,” he said. “You know, General, you aren’t quite -built for a guard.” - -After supper--Slim had been eating at training table for a long while -now--Leonard was leaning over a Latin book in Number 12 when the door -opened violently and things began to happen to him. First he was -precipitated backward until his head touched the floor and his feet -gyrated in air. Then he was sat on while rude hands tweaked his nose -and the lately occupied chair entangled his feet. About that time -Leonard began to resent the treatment and got a firm hold on Slim’s -hair. But Slim wouldn’t have that. - -“No, General,” he announced firmly. “Be quiet and take your medicine. -You are being disciplined, son. This isn’t a mere vulgar brawl. This is -for the good of your poor little shriveled soul.” - -“Well, let up on my nose then, you crazy idiot! What am I being -disciplined for! And get off my tummy a minute so I can kick that -blamed chair out of the way!” - -“Don’t vent your spleen on the poor inanimate chair,” remonstrated Slim -reproachfully. “It never did anything to you, you deceiving goof. Look -at me! In the eye--I mean eyes! Why didn’t you tell me what happened -this afternoon?” - -“I did.” - -“General!” - -“Ouch! Quit, you--you crazy--” - -“Why didn’t you tell me _all_? Look at me, consarn yer!” - -“I am, Slim! Doggone it, will you quit?” - -“Stop struggling! General, you’ve got to come clean. Did you or didn’t -you deceive me?” - -“I did not.” - -“General, you did. Since then I have learned the truth. You went and -made yourself one of these here football heroes, you did, General. -Broke through--no, crashed through the enemy line and fell on the -fumbled ball, thus bringing victory to your beloved Alma Mater! Not -once, but twice did you do this thing. I know all, and lying won’t help -you any longer. Confess, drat your pesky hide! Did you or isn’t they?” - -“They is!” groaned Leonard. “For the love of Mike, Slim, get off my -supper!” - -Slim removed himself, and Leonard struggled out of the clutches of the -chair and got to his feet. “For two cents,” he said, “I’d lay you over -that blamed chair and paddle you, Slim.” - -“No, you wouldn’t, son. You know very well that you deserved all you -got, and a little bit more. You deceived me, me your friend! You--” - -“Oh, dry up,” laughed Leonard. “What did you expect me to do? Tell you -how good I was? Those second team fellows that played against me were -dead easy, Slim. A child could have got through those chaps. Why, you -could yourself, Slim! Well, I won’t go that far, but--” - -“I pay no heed to your insults, you gallery-player!” - -“Shut up! There wasn’t any gallery to-day. It was too cold.” - -“Gallery enough. Fellows at table spent about half the time talking -about you and your stunts. And I had to make believe I knew all about -it and keep nosing around for clews. Not for worlds would I have -confessed that I knew naught of which they spake. Fancy my position! Me -who raised you from a cradle! Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” - -“Awfully,” said Leonard. “Now will you dry up and let me get this -Latin?” - -“I will not. Say, General, I wish you’d set to work and get Renneker’s -job away from him.” - -“That’s likely,” scoffed Leonard. “What you got against Renneker?” - -“Nothing. Only--” Slim sobered, and after a moment’s pause continued: -“Only that yarn of Johnny McGrath’s makes me sort of wonder -whether--well, if Renneker wasn’t on the team, General, there wouldn’t -be anything to worry about!” - -“I thought you’d decided that there wasn’t anything in that idea of -McGrath’s.” - -“So I had. I’m still that way. Only--well, I wish some one would find -out the truth of it. Or you’d beat him out for the place!” - -“I’ve got a fine chance, Slim! Look here, if you think there’s a chance -that McGrath isn’t mistaken why don’t you ask Renneker about it?” - -Slim shrugged. “It isn’t my funeral. Besides, what’s to prevent him -from lying?” - -Leonard shook his head. “I don’t believe he would, Slim. He doesn’t -seem that sort, you know.” - -“No,” agreed Slim, grudgingly, “he doesn’t. Oh, well, I should worry. -Gee, I’ve got enough to attend to without turning reformer. There’s the -class dinner Saturday, and Cash tells me only about half the bunch have -paid up so far. By the way, have you heard anything?” - -“Not a thing,” replied Leonard. - -“Guess you haven’t tried very hard,” grumbled the other. “I’d like to -know what the freshies are up to. They’ve got something planned. You -can see that by the knowing look of ’em. Some fool stunt the juniors -have put ’em up to, I’ll wager. Well--” - -Slim relapsed into thoughtful silence, and Leonard edged his chair back -to the table. After a minute he asked: “That all?” - -“Huh?” inquired Slim absently. - -“If you’re quite through I’ll have another go at this Latin,” said -Leonard politely. “But of course if there’s anything else on your -mind--” - -“Go to the dickens,” growled Slim. - -On Tuesday the first-string players returned to a full diet of work -and, excepting Smedley, now pronounced out of football for the season, -all the guard candidates were on hand when the scrimmage started. -Nevertheless Leonard displaced Renneker in the second period and -Raleigh went in at left guard, relieving Stimson. Billy Wells greeted -Leonard heartily with a playful poke in the ribs and, “Well, here’s -the General! See who’s with us, Jim!” Jim Newton turned and grinned. -“Hello, sonny,” he said. “You get behind me and they won’t hurt you.” -Leonard, almost painfully aware of the difference in size between him -and the big center, smiled apologetically. “Thanks,” he answered, “I -will if you happen to be on your feet.” Billy yelped gleefully, and -Jim’s grin broadened. “You win, young feller,” he said. - -Leonard didn’t break through to-day and capture a fumbled ball, but he -did more than handle his opponent and very early in the second period -the scrubs discovered that the right of the first team line was a -particularly poor place at which to direct attack. Leonard and Wells -worked together very nicely. Just before the end, much to his disgust, -he was forced to yield his place to Falls, and he and Raleigh, also -relieved, made their way back to the gymnasium together. Raleigh was -an excellent example of the player who is able to progress just so far -and then stands still, in spite of all that coaches can do. He had been -a second-string guard last year and had, early in the present season, -been picked as a certainty. Renneker’s advent, however, had spoiled -his chance, and since then Raleigh seemed to have lost his grip. Just -now he was not so much standing still as he was sliding backward. -He confided something of this to Leonard on the way across to the -gymnasium. - -“I don’t suppose I’ll even get a smell of the big game,” he said -sorrowfully. “Renneker’ll play at right and Stimson at left, and you -and Falls will be next choice. It was that big guy that queered my -chances.” - -Leonard didn’t have to ask who was meant. Instead he said comfortingly: -“You can’t tell, Raleigh. You might beat Stimson yet. And you’ll surely -have it all over me for first substitute.” - -But Raleigh shook his head. “Not a chance, Grant. I know a real player -when I see him, even if I’m getting to be a dub myself. You’re a -live-wire. I wouldn’t be surprised if you got Stimson’s job before the -Kenly game.” - -“Me? Much obliged for the compliment, Raleigh, but I guess Stimson -isn’t frightened much! I haven’t got the weight, you know.” - -“You don’t seem to need it,” replied Raleigh enviously. “You’ve got -speed to burn. Wish I had a little of it!” - -The next day Leonard was called to the training table, where he took -his place between Lawrence and Wilde and where, after his second or -third repast, he was no longer Grant but “General.” On Wednesday he -discovered with something of a thrill that Coach Cade was taking him -seriously as a candidate for a guard position, for he was given a hard -thirty-minute drill in blocking and breaking through in company with -Renneker and Stimson and Raleigh and Falls. Soon after that, just when -Leonard didn’t know, Squibbs disappeared from the football squad. It -will be remembered, perhaps, that not long before Coach Cade had erased -a name from a page of his little book. - -It was on Thursday evening that Johnny McGrath appeared at Number 12 -Haylow in response to Leonard’s invitation. Both Leonard and Slim -were at home, and Johnny had no cause to doubt that he was welcome. -The conversation was not particularly interesting. Or, at least, it -wouldn’t sound so if set down here. There was one subject not included -in the many that were discussed, and that was the resemblance of Gordon -Renneker to George Ralston. Just before he left Johnny said, a trifle -hesitantly: “By the way, Slim, heard anything about Saturday?” - -“About the dinner, do you mean?” Slim’s eyes narrowed. - -“Yes. I wondered if you’d heard any--er--any rumors.” Johnny looked -very innocent just then. Slim shook his head slowly. - -“Nothing much, Johnny. Have you?” - -“Why, I don’t know.” Johnny appeared undecided. “You see, I’m a junior, -Slim, and maybe I oughtn’t to give away any freshman secrets.” - -“Huh,” Slim grumbled, “if it wasn’t for you fellows putting ’em up to -the mischief--” - -“Sure, I had nothing to do with it,” laughed Johnny. “And what I heard -didn’t come from my crowd. ’Tis just something I accidentally came on.” - -“Well, out with it. What are the pesky kids up to?” - -“I’m not knowing that, Slim.” - -“Well, what the dickens do you know, you Sinn Feiner?” - -“All I know,” replied Johnny evasively, as he opened the door, “is that -if I was President of the Sophomore Class I’d be watching out mighty -sharp come Saturday evening.” Johnny grinned, winked meaningly and -vanished. - -“Humph,” said Slim. “He does know something, the silly ass.” He started -up as if to go after Johnny, but then sat down again and shrugged his -shoulders. “He wouldn’t tell, I suppose.” - -“What do you think he was hinting at?” asked Leonard. - -Slim shrugged again. “How the dickens do I know? I dare say the -freshies have cooked up some plot to make me look silly. Maybe they -think they can keep me away from the dinner. All right, let them try -it!” And Slim looked grim as he began to disrobe. - -On Saturday Leonard made his first trip away from Alton with the -football team, being one of twenty-six fellows who journeyed to New -Falmouth. Last fall Alton had just managed to defeat the clever High -School team by one point, and to-day the visitors weren’t looking for -any easy victory. It was well they weren’t, as events proved. New -Falmouth was too powerful for the Gray-and-Gold. With only one more -game on her schedule, and that against a rival high school of smaller -calibre, New Falmouth was in position to use everything she had in -to-day’s contest. And she certainly held nothing back. Last season’s -game, lost to her through her inability to convert two touchdowns into -goals, had been a disappointment, and she fully intended to take her -revenge. - -Coach Cade started with several substitutes in his line-up, but this -was not because he held the enemy in contempt. His real reason was that -he hoped to hold New Falmouth scoreless in the first half of the game -and use his best talent to tuck the victory away in the last. But that -wasn’t to be. Before the second quarter was half-way through Johnny -Cade was hurling his best troops onto the field in a desperate attempt -to turn the tide of battle. For by that time New Falmouth had scored -twice and had 10 points to her credit on the score-board while the -visitors had yet to show themselves dangerous. - -Leonard didn’t see service until the third period. Then he went in at -left guard in place of the deposed Stimson. The score was still 10 to -0, and Alton looked very much like a beaten team. New Falmouth had a -powerful attack, one that was fast and shifty and hit hard. No place -in the Gray-and-Gold line had proved invulnerable in the first two -periods, while the home team had run the ends with alarming frequency. -Only Alton’s ability to pull herself together and stand firm under her -goal had prevented the enemy’s score from being doubled. - -Leonard had Jim Newton on one side of him and Sam Butler on the other -when the second half began. He had not played beside Butler before and -didn’t know the tall youth’s style of game as well as he knew Billy -Wells’, and for awhile the two didn’t work together any too smoothly. -In fact, the left of the Alton line was no more difficult to penetrate -than the right until Leonard discovered from experience that Butler -went about his business in a different fashion from that used by Billy -and began to govern his own play accordingly. Butler couldn’t be -depended on, for one thing, to back up attacks between left guard and -center. Such plays always pulled him in and left him fairly useless. -Also, he played too high much of the time, a fact that invited more -attacks at his position than Leonard approved of. Yet, when once -these facts had been learned, Leonard was able to discount them to an -appreciable extent and before the third period was more than half over -New Falmouth was less attentive to that side of the adversary’s line. - -Leonard knew that he was playing football, and extremely hard football, -before the third play had been made. New Falmouth got the ball on the -kick-off and started a battering-ram attack that bore the enemy back -time and again. Leonard went through some punishment then, for the -first three plays were aimed at the Alton left guard and tackle. He -acquired a bleeding nose in the second of them and a bruised knee in -the third. About that time he got interested and began to really fight. -Captain Emerson went off with a bad limp and Kerrison took his place. -Not much later Bee Appel, after having been aimed at since the game -began, was finally downed for good and Carpenter took over the running -of the team. The third period ended without further scoring, although -the ball had stayed in Alton territory most of the time and was still -there. - -A penalty for off-side set Alton back another five yards nearer her -goal just after play was resumed, and, when she had been held for -two downs on the twenty-two yards, New Falmouth tried a goal from -placement. For once, however, the line failed to hold and half the -Alton team piled through on the kicker and the ball bounded off up the -field and was captured by Reilly, of Alton, on the thirty-six yards. -Alton made first down on two plunges and a six-yard run by Menge. Then, -however, after three more attempts, Greenwood punted to the home team’s -twenty-five, where the ball went outside. New Falmouth made two through -Renneker and tore off five more around Kerrison. A third down was -wasted on a plunge at center that was repulsed. Then New Falmouth tried -her third forward-pass of the game, and the ball landed nicely in the -hands of Slim Staples close to the forty-yard line, and Slim dodged to -the thirty-two before he was stopped. - -Here, it seemed, was Alton’s chance to score at last, but after -Carpenter had attempted a run following a delayed pass and had centered -the ball at the sacrifice of a yard, the chance didn’t look so bright. -Greenwood made a scant two at the New Falmouth left, and then, with -nine to go on third down, and Greenwood in kicking position, Carpenter -called for an end-around play with Slim Staples carrying. Just what -happened Leonard didn’t know, but somewhere between Jim Newton and -Slim the ball got away. Leonard heard Carpenter’s frantic grunt of -“_Ball!_” and swung into the enemy. Then he felt the ball trickle -against his foot, thrust aside for a moment and dropped to a knee. -When he got his hands on the pigskin the battle was all about him, and -cries and confusion filled the air. Yet he was able to thrust himself -up again through the mêlée, and plunge forward, and, having taken that -first plunge, to go on. He met a back squarely and caromed off him -into the arms of another, broke loose somehow and went forward again. -The goal-line was startlingly near, and he made for it desperately, -slanting first to the left and then doubling back from a frenzied -quarter. He and the quarter met and, spinning on a heel, he staggered -over the line, a New Falmouth man astride him as he fell. - -Unfortunately there was no one left on the Alton team who could kick a -goal once in five times, and Joe Greenwood, who tried to add another -point to the six, failed dismally. The fault wasn’t entirely his, -though, for New Falmouth broke through and hurried the kick. But even -to have scored was something, and Leonard, still wondering just how it -had happened, was appraised of the fact in most emphatic language and -actions. Over on one side of the field a half-hundred or so of Alton -sympathizers who had accompanied the eleven were shouting ecstatically -and wildly. Denied victory, they made much of that touchdown. - -The ball went to New Falmouth for the kick-off, and Leonard sprang -away to repel the invaders. Behind him, Carpenter got the pigskin, -juggled it and tried to run it back, but two New Falmouth ends downed -him fiercely. On the second play Greenwood got clean away around the -left end and made it first down on the thirty-yard line. Just as he was -jubilating hoarsely over that Leo Falls came romping on, hailed the -referee and joyfully slapped Leonard on the back. - -“You’re off,” he announced. “Let’s have your head-guard.” - -Leonard looked unbelievingly at him. “Off?” he gasped. “Me?” But the -referee was waving impatiently, and Leonard pulled off his helmet -and turned sadly toward the bench. The world seemed just then filled -with ingratitude and injustice, and the cheer that hailed him fell -on unresponsive ears. Jake hurried out to enfold him in a blanket, -mumbling fine phrases, and Mr. Cade said something as Leonard passed -to the bench, but the day’s hero was not to be salved so easily. From -the bench he sadly watched the game to its end and witnessed, in the -closing moments, the addition of another 3 to New Falmouth’s 10. Life -was very dark! - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -FIRST TRICK TO THE ENEMY - - -But time heals all wounds, and long before the special trolley had -landed the team back at Alton Leonard’s spirits were again at normal, -or perhaps a little beyond normal since, in spite of the defeat, the -Gray-and-Gold had had her big moments, and he had shared in at least -one of them. Disappointment had not prevented the other members of -the squad from giving praise where it was deserved, and Leonard had -heard a number of nice things said. Rus Emerson had been especially -complimentary, and Coach Cade, while less demonstrative than the -players, had expressed his approval quite unmistakably. So, all in all, -Leonard should have been more than satisfied with the afternoon, it -seemed. But he wasn’t, for the defeat rankled, and Slim’s well-intended -but cynical sounding advice to “forget it and wait until next year” -brought little comfort. But in spite of having failed in their quest of -revenge, the team became quite cheerful, even merry, in fact, before -they rolled into Alton, and so Leonard too regained his spirits. It -was almost dark by the time he and Slim turned into the yard and made -their way toward Haylow, although beyond the buildings the western sky -still showed a tint of faded gold most appropriate to the occasion. The -Sophomore Dinner was set for seven, and it was already well past five, -a fact that Slim mentioned as they reached the front of Academy Hall. - -“I ought to get there a bit early, I suppose,” he added. “There’s -usually something that goes wrong at the last minute, and the other -fellows on the committee probably won’t show up until the last moment.” - -A dim form detached itself from the shadows of the doorway of Academy -once the two had passed and loitered carelessly down the middle path in -the direction of the gate. Neither Slim nor Leonard saw this, however. -But, just as they went up the steps of Haylow, Leonard laid a detaining -hand on his companion’s arm. - -“There’s a fellow behind that tree over there by the yellow house,” -said Leonard softly. “You can’t see him now. He poked his head around -just as we started up here.” - -Slim looked, but the further side of Meadow street was wrapped in -shadows and the particular tree, seen between the posts of the -entrance, looked no different than other trees. Slim shrugged. “I don’t -see anything, General. Guess it was just a shadow.” - -“No, it wasn’t. I saw the fellow’s head plainly.” - -“Oh, well, what of it? Probably some kid playing hide-and-seek. I’ll -tell you, though. We’ll have a look from the window at the end of the -corridor. Come on.” - -They climbed the stairs and then went along the second floor hall to -the casement that overlooked Meadow street. When they reached it and -peered surreptitiously out and down a dark form was proceeding townward -along the further sidewalk, beyond the tree. For a brief moment the -form was palely lighted as it passed under a street light, and Slim -grunted. - -“Guess you were right,” he said. “Looks like one of the freshies. -Keeping tabs on me, I suppose. I wonder if there was anything in Johnny -McGrath’s guff. Just for fun, when we go in the room we’ll have a look -before we light up. There may be more of the varmints hiding about.” - -“What do you suppose they’re up to?” asked Leonard. - -“Search me,” said Slim. Then he chuckled. “Maybe they’re going to -kidnap us, General. Wish they’d try it, eh?” - -“I guess they’re not interested in me,” replied Leonard a bit -regretfully. “See any one?” - -He was looking over Slim’s shoulder, peering from the darkened window. -Outside the Academy yard was black save where the infrequent lights -along the walks shed a dim yellow radiance that sent elongated shadows -of the nearby trees sprawling off into the gloom. It was a time of -evening when most of the fellows were in the dormitories, and save for -a boy who passed under the window, whistling a football tune, to turn -in at the doorway beneath and come pounding up the stairway, the yard -appeared empty. Then Slim said “Humph!” under his breath. - -“What?” asked Leonard eagerly. - -“Look along the Doctor’s path about fifty or sixty feet from the middle -path. See anything?” - -“N-no,” answered Leonard disappointedly. - -“Well, I do. There’s some one under the tree there. Close up to the -trunk and-- There! Now he’s moving out a bit! See?” - -“Yes!” exclaimed the other watcher excitedly. “What do you suppose--” - -“Silly chumps,” muttered Slim amusedly. “Kid stuff! Oh, well, it amuses -them. He’ll have to leave there pretty soon and go home to supper, -though. That’ll be our chance to give them the slip. What time is it, -anyhow? Turn on the light, will you?” - -“Twenty-two of six,” answered Leonard a moment later. - -“Plenty of time, then. They can’t get out from supper in much less than -half an hour, and that’ll make it half-past. We’ll be gone by--” Slim -stopped and listened. “Thought I heard some one outside,” he explained, -turning his glance away from the closed door. “I was going to say that -by half-past six we’ll be over at Kingman’s. Gee, I’m tired, General! -How does my eye look?” - -“Not so bad,” said Leonard. He felt gingerly of his own nose. “This -thing’s mighty sore yet. Would you do anything to it?” - -“Your beak? No, not until we get back again. Bathe it in arnica then. -All it needs now is soap and water.” - -The youth who had gone pounding up to the floor above a few minutes -earlier now came thumping down again. The dormitory was by no means -quiet, but the visitor’s passing sounded well above all else. Slim -frowned. “That’s the noisiest brute I ever heard,” he muttered. He -went over to the window and looked down, but all he could see in the -darkness was a dim shape going toward Lykes. “Must be wearing wooden -shoes, from the sound.” He peered in the direction of the watcher under -the tree and then pulled the green shade down. “I hope your feet are -cold out there,” he muttered. - -Both boys laid aside the clothes they had worn to New Falmouth, since, -as one never knew just what might occur in the course of a class -celebration, it was customary to wear articles that were not highly -valued. Slim pulled a pair of gray flannel trousers from the closet and -hunted out an old white sweater. Leonard selected a veteran suit of -grayish tweed that, during the past summer, had served on Sundays and -holidays at the farm. They didn’t hurry in their preparations, since, -if only as a joke on the freshman spies, they meant to time their trip -to the village while the enemy was at supper. Besides, they were both -feeling the effects of the game in the shape of lame muscles and a -general disinclination to move faster than a slow walk. - -Six o’clock struck while they were still dawdling and talking lazily -of the afternoon’s experiences, and doors began to open along the -corridors and the dwellers in Haylow set off for Lawrence Hall and -supper. Slim struggled into an old bath-robe and looked around for his -slippers. “I sort of think I’ll be ready to eat, myself, by the time -seven o’clock comes,” he remarked. “Where the dickens is that other -slipper of mine?” - -“I’m ready now,” said Leonard. “I hope to goodness nothing happens to -that dinner before I get at it!” - -“Don’t worry, General. Nothing’s going to happen to the food. I’ll bet -that right at this minute Kingman is mounting guard down there with a -shot-gun loaded with buckshot!” - -“Well, then I hope that nothing happens to keep me from reaching it,” -amended Leonard, smiling. - -Slim chuckled. “That’s different,” he said. “I’ll guarantee the feed, -General, but I won’t guarantee the guests. Ah, here you are, you -lopsided old reprobate!” He pulled the missing slipper from under the -further side of his bed and thrust a bare foot into it. “Guess we might -as well wash up,” he announced. “No use cutting it too fine. I don’t -run from trouble, but I don’t hunt for it, either, and maybe we’ll be -just as well off if we get inside that restaurant before the freshies -finish their supper.” - -“All right,” assented Leonard. The hall was silent now and the last -footfall had ceased sounding on the pavement below. He picked up his -own robe and threw it over his present scanty costume. At that instant -there was an impatient exclamation from Slim. - -“What the dickens is the matter with this door?” Slim demanded as he -turned the knob and pulled. Then, “Look here, where’s the key?” he -asked blankly. - -The key was always on the inside of the lock, but it plainly wasn’t -there now. Slim and Leonard both looked about the floor. Then, -together, they seized the knob and pulled hard. The door didn’t yield. - -“Locked!” said Leonard. - -Slim nodded, and a broad smile crept over his face. “Locked is right,” -he chuckled. “The little varmints win the first trick, General!” - -“But how? There’s been no one here!” - -“Remember the fellow with the heavy tread? That’s who, I’ll bet. Got -the tip from the fellow under the tree, or some other fellow, and made -a lot of noise going upstairs and then came down again quiet and locked -us in.” - -“But how could he have got the key without our hearing the door open -or--” Leonard blinked. “I see! They put the key in the outside before -we came home!” - -Slim nodded. “Or had it in their pocket. Well, we’ve got to get out -somehow. There’s no use raising a riot, for no one will hear us, I -guess. Perhaps if we yelled from the window-- But, shucks, I wouldn’t -give those kids the satisfaction! If there was a transom--” - -“How about the window?” interrupted Leonard. - -“Rather a long drop, General, with a mighty hard landing. Wait a -minute! What fellows of our class are in Haylow? Let’s see. Joe -Conklin’s in Number 27, but that’s upstairs and on the back. He’d never -hear us. He’s probably on his way, too. Who else is there?” - -“Wharton, in 4,” said Leonard. “Let’s raise a row and see if anything -happens.” - -They did and nothing did happen. After several minutes of shouting and -thumping on the door and banging on the floor with a shoe they gave -it up. “Looks now,” said Slim, “like I wasn’t so smart in deciding to -wait! We’d have been wiser if we’d started earlier!” He crossed to -the window, threw it wide and looked down. “I guess I can do it,” he -murmured. Then he glanced to the right and said, “Huh, never thought of -that!” - -Leonard, a shoe in one hand, was still staring perplexedly at the door -when Slim summoned him. “Give me a hand here, General,” called Slim. -“It’s only about five feet to the next window, and I can make it easy.” - -Slim wriggled out of his robe and kicked off his slippers. Leonard -followed him through the window and they stood together on the broad -ledge, each with a hand hooked under the sash. “Glad those fresh kids -aren’t here to see this,” commented Slim. “Get hold of my wrist and -hold it close in to the wall. If anything happens, son, let go. Don’t -try to hold me. But I’ll make it. All right!” - -Slim edged to the end of the ledge, and Leonard slowly followed him. -Then, with one hand tight around Slim’s right wrist and the other -holding fast to the sash, Leonard pressed his body close against the -edge of the embrasure while Slim reached out his left hand for a grip -on the stone work about the next window. After a moment he said: “Give -me another inch or two if you can.” Leonard obeyed. There was a moment -of suspense and then Slim announced: “All right, General. Let go!” -Rather fearfully Leonard released the other’s wrist and turned his head -to see. Slim was safe on the next sill, raising the lower sash. Then he -disappeared, and Leonard climbed back into Number 12. A moment later -the door of the next room opened and Slim’s bare feet padded along the -corridor. A key turned in the lock in front of Leonard and the door -swung in. - -“Left the key in the lock,” panted Slim as he entered. “Say, we’ll have -to do some hurrying, General! Must be getting close to half-past.” - -They hustled off to the lavatory and hustled back again and hurriedly -donned their clothes. Leonard looked at his watch the instant before he -put the light out. The hands pointed to twenty-four minutes after six. - -Below, in the half-light of the doorway, Slim paused and looked about -inquiringly. There was no one in sight. But as they turned side by -side into the middle path that led toward Academy street voices behind -them announced that some of the fellows had finished supper and were -returning to the dormitories. At the far end of the row, Borden Hall, -the freshman dormitory, showed an occasional light, but, so far as -either Slim or Leonard could see, no forms were about the entrance. -They went on toward the gate, Slim chuckling softly. - -“Guess we beat them to it, after all,” he said. - -But a minute later Slim changed his mind. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -SLIM RETREATS - - -Just short of the gate the sound of hurrying footsteps brought them -sharply around. Behind them, seen dimly, were many approaching forms. - -“Let’s beat it,” whispered Leonard. - -“Run from a bunch of freshies?” demanded Slim haughtily. “Not much! -We’ll turn down Academy street, though, and let them by. If they’re up -to something we can’t stop them here.” - -Slim led the way sharply to the right, when they were through the gate, -and they went on for several rods to pause in the deeper shadow of a -not quite leafless tree that overhung the sidewalk. Midway between the -infrequent street lights, they were probably invisible to any one at -the entrance. A moment or two later a stream of boys appeared. That -they were freshmen was conclusively proved by the preponderance of -small youths, although quite a good many were fairly big. Some of the -throng kept straight ahead across Academy street and disappeared into -State street, beyond the corner of the white house where Coach Cade had -his lodgings. Others paused before the gate as though for a council, -and presently a dozen or more started obliquely across Academy street -and went north toward Meadow, half running. Slim and Leonard drew more -closely against the fence. The enemy detachment passed on the other -side without detecting them and an instant later were visible hurrying -around the corner of Meadow street. Meanwhile the rest of the crowd -before the gate had, it appeared, reached a decision, for they, too, -crossed the road and disappeared into State street, breaking into a -run as they passed from sight. Save for an occasional giggle from some -over-wrought youngster and a low-toned murmur now and then, the phalanx -had come and gone in silence. Leonard thought that silence just a bit -depressing! - -Left alone on the empty street--empty save for the unseen presence of a -lone pedestrian trudging along somewhere in the distance toward River -street--Slim whistled softly. “Must have been fully a hundred of them,” -he marveled. “Now what the dickens are they up to?” - -“Looks to me as if they were looking for you,” said Leonard. - -“Sure, but what can they do if they find me? They don’t expect me to -stand any of their foolishness, do they? If it came to a scrap--” Slim -stopped and looked thoughtfully up and down the dimly lighted street. -“Well, let’s get along, General. It must be getting close to our -dinner time.” - -“Something tells me,” said Leonard sadly, “that I’ll never see that -dinner!” - -Slim chuckled. “Well, to tell the truth, I’m not as sure of it myself -as I was! Just the same, General, if those kids are going to keep me -away from it they’ll have to go some!” He led the way across to the -beginning of State street. “Better go this way, I guess,” he continued. -“They won’t be likely to pull any tricks where the bright lights are!” - -The bright lights, however, were still a short block away, and when -suddenly a gray cat jumped down from a fence-post in front of Leonard -and scuttled away almost between his feet that youth gave a yelp of -alarm. Slim seemed to consider the incident excruciatingly funny and -laughed consumedly. Leonard maintained a haughty silence all the rest -of the way to the corner of West street. Here the stores began, and -many of them were still open, and their lights combined with the big -street lamps made the thoroughfare almost as bright as daylight. No -lurking freshman was sighted as the two turned south toward Meadow -street, although, since a good many persons were about, scouting -members of the enemy forces may have been present. The clock in -Tappler’s jewelry store proclaimed the time as 6:38 as they passed. As -they neared Meadow street Leonard called Slim’s attention to two youths -who had just come into sight from the direction of the academy. Slim -looked and nodded. - -“The short fellow’s Watkins. I don’t know the other one. They’re going -to the party, I guess.” - -“Wouldn’t it be a good idea to go along with them, Slim? I mean four is -better than two if--if there’s any trouble.” - -But Slim shook his head. “No,” he answered, “but I tell you what, -General. You catch up with them. I’ll have a better chance to make it -if I’m alone, probably.” - -“I will not,” declared Leonard indignantly. “What do you take me for?” - -Slim shrugged. “All right,” he said. “I guess there’s nothing much up, -anyway. We’ve got lighted streets all the rest of--” He stopped. On the -other side of the street as they turned the corner was a group of five -older fellows making their way briskly toward the center of town: Red -Reilly, Gordon Renneker, Joe Greenwood and two others. “Juniors,” said -Slim. “Coming to see the fun, I suppose. I’ll bet Red’s had a lot to do -with this business. Don’t let them see us, General.” Slim slowed his -pace a little, and the group across Meadow street passed on, laughing -and talking gayly. - -“How much further is it?” asked Leonard. - -“About five blocks,” replied Slim absently. After a moment he said: -“Look here, General, I’m wondering if it wouldn’t be a clever game to -get into Kingman’s by the back entrance. It’s on Moody street, around -the corner from the front door, and I don’t believe those fellows know -about it.” - -“Sounds sensible to me,” began Leonard. - -But Slim disappointed him again. “No, by golly,” exclaimed Slim -suddenly, “I’m blowed if I’ll sneak up any alleys on account of a lot -of freshies! We’ll go in by the front door, General!” - -“Sure,” agreed Leonard unenthusiastically. “Just as you say, Slim.” - -“How are they going to stop us?” Slim went on belligerently. “They -can’t do it, by gum!” - -“Of course not,” Leonard assented. “Why, there’s only a hundred or so -of them. The idea!” - -“Well, suppose there are a hundred, or two hundred. They aren’t going -to--to use their fists, I guess, and if they don’t how are they going--” - -“I know,” said Leonard. “You’re probably dead right, Slim, but just -the same I’d swap my right to that dinner for a ham sandwich. As the -well-known proverb says, Slim, ‘A sandwich in the hand is worth two -portions of chicken on the plate.’” - -“Shut up. Here’s High street. The place is in the next block. We’ll get -there in time, too.” - -High street proved to be a rather narrow thoroughfare not quite so well -lighted as the street they were leaving. The stores had a somewhat -second-class appearance and the names on the signs and windows were -frequently foreign. In brief, High street impressed one as being a -street that had seen better days. The principal shopping thoroughfare -lay one block south, and as the boys neared the corner of Moody street -the rattle and clang of Market street’s traffic was borne to them. -And as they neared that corner Leonard exclaimed: “Must be a fire or -something, Slim. Look at the crowd!” - -A little way beyond the corner of the cross street was a throng that -stretched from side to side. Further on, jutting out above the sidewalk -on the right, was a gayly illuminated sign that announced in electric -lamps: “Kingman’s Restaurant.” Slim looked and slowed his steps. -“Freshies,” breathed Slim. “A whole blamed army of ’em, General!” - -Leonard could see for himself now that the crowd was composed of -boys and knew that Slim was right. The latter drew him aside to the -entrance of a shop. “Let’s consider a bit,” said Slim. “Suppose -they’ve got another gang at the other side, too, eh? Must have, for -there’s probably not more than fifty in that bunch there.” He peered -down the street to confirm this statement. Then he laughed. “You’re -lucky, after all, General,” he said. “There’s a lunch room right -opposite where you can get your sandwich!” - -“But what are we going to do?” asked Leonard anxiously. - -“Well,” answered Slim, “I guess there’s just one thing we can do, and -that’s buck the line. There doesn’t seem much chance of running the -end, eh? Let’s go, General!” - -They set forth again side by side, appearing as casual as they might, -reached the corner, paused to let an automobile pass and approached the -throng. Just then a small youth darted past them and gave the alarm -shrilly: - -“_Staples! Staples!_” - -A roar of cheers and laughter went up, and the freshman horde moved to -meet them. Cries of “Welcome, Soph!” “Dinner’s ready, Staples!” “Way -for the President!” mingled with jeers and cat-calls. - -“Stick behind me,” counseled Slim in a low voice. Then he gently -pushed the first of the enemy from his path. “Gangway, Fresh,” he said -smilingly. But they were all about now, presenting a solid barrier. -The more Slim shoved the greater the resistance became. He knew better -than to lose his patience, however. Instead, he spoke laughingly to -Leonard over his shoulder. “Let’s go, General,” he said. “Play low and -make it good!” But although Leonard shoved and pushed there was no -advance. “A-a-ay, Soph!” chanted the defenders. Slim felt his dignity -slipping fast. He wondered why the fellows upstairs in the restaurant, -only a few rods beyond, didn’t hear and come to the rescue. But they -didn’t, and presently, breathless though still smiling, Slim paused to -parley. - -“What’s the big idea, you fellows?” he demanded of one of the bigger -freshmen. - -“Oh, we like you too well to let you mix in with a lot of low-down -trash like those fellows up there,” was the flippant reply. “You stay -and play with us, Staples.” - -“Thanks,” answered Slim dryly. “All right, but you don’t need Grant, -too, do you?” - -“We-ell,” began the boy. But Leonard settled the question himself. - -“I’ll stay with you, Slim,” he announced. - -“Say, Staples! Slim Staples, are you hungry?” called some one, and a -laugh followed. “Want your dinner, sonny?” “They’re just starting on -the oysters, Staples!” “Oh, you Sophomore President!” - -Stung, Slim faced his tormenters. “What’ll you bet I don’t get in -there?” he demanded warmly. - -“When, to-morrow?” asked one of the enemy. - -“No, to-night, and before that dinner’s over,” answered Slim above the -burst of laughter that greeted the sally. “You’re pretty clever for a -bunch of freshies, but then you’re _only_ freshies, you know!” Slim -managed to smile sweetly as he said it, but that didn’t make the insult -less severe. He took Leonard’s arm and turned carelessly away while the -crowd jeered more loudly and with the first note of anger. To call a -freshman a freshman is, for some reason, the deadliest of insults. - -“Sore-head!” some one called shrilly, and “Follow them, Tom!” advised a -second. “Better watch ’em!” - -Slim turned and leveled a finger at the big leader of the crowd. “Come -on,” he said. “Follow us. I’d like to have you!” - -But the big freshman only grinned and shook his head. “No, thanks,” he -called after them. “I’ll wait here. Come again, Staples, won’t you? -Dinner’s ready!” - -Followed by Leonard, Slim walked briskly around the corner of Moody -street, but, once out of sight, he slowed down. “Any one after us?” he -asked softly. - -“No,” said Leonard. “Now what, Slim?” - -Slim shook his head. “There’s the back entrance, but something tells me -I didn’t do those guys justice. I’m going to have a look, but I don’t -believe they’ve left the back door unguarded.” He went down the block -about half-way and there turned into a narrow alley. Some eighty feet -beyond, the forms of a dozen or more youths showed where the dim light -from a glass-paneled door fell across the passage. Slim stopped. “You -can’t fight them,” he muttered disgustedly. “They’ve got us stopped -again, General.” The two retraced their steps, followed by a jeering -shout from the depths of the alley. “We’ll go around to Market street,” -announced Slim, “and think this over. There must be some way!” - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -LEONARD COMES TO THE PARTY - - -On Market street Slim led the way into a drug store and slipped onto -a stool in front of the white marble counter where two aproned youths -were dispensing drinks. “We’ve got to cook up some scheme,” he said, -“and we might as well be comfortable while we’re at it. What’s yours?” - -“Mine’s a good dinner,” answered Leonard wistfully. - -“You’re in the wrong shop, General, but you can have a sandwich if you -say the word.” - -Leonard looked longingly at the two tiers of sandwiches under the glass -cover nearby. “You?” he asked. - -Slim shook his head sternly. “No, sir, I’m going to dine at Kingman’s -in about ten minutes.” - -Leonard sighed and mentioned his choice of a beverage. The renunciation -was difficult. When their glasses were in front of them Slim lifted his -gravely. “Here’s luck,” he said. - -“Success to our scheme,” replied Leonard, and drank deeply. The -concoction tasted good and he imbibed again and felt better. He glanced -at Slim. Slim was staring hard at the counter and absently tracing a -design on its smooth surface. The clock at the end of the store, above -the prescription counter, proclaimed three minutes past seven. Leonard -looked out through the big glass window and sought inspiration. The -sidewalks were well thronged, for the evening was mild for November. -A big yellow trolley car passed with a strident clanging of its gong. -Automobiles went by honking warningly to the rash pedestrians who -sought to find their way across the street. A smart looking policeman, -his fingers crooked in his belt, paused momentarily to view the -contents of the window and then continued on his beat. Leonard had -found his inspiration. - -“Slim, look here,” he exclaimed. “Why can’t we get a cop to put us -through that mob back there? I just saw one go by. If we told him how -it was--” - -But Slim looked instantly disapproving. “That wouldn’t be playing the -game,” he answered. “You--you don’t call on the cops to help you, -General. It isn’t done.” - -[Illustration: “That wouldn’t be playing the game,” he answered] - -“Isn’t done be blowed!” said Leonard. “Look here, I’m so hungry I could -eat nails. We didn’t have enough lunch to keep a canary alive, Slim. I -want my dinner, and if I can get it by hooking onto a cop--” - -“You’d bring disgrace on the whole Sophomore Class,” interrupted the -other. “No, not to be thought of, General. Besides, I’ve got a better -plan.” - -“It’s about time,” grumbled Leonard. - -“What’s to keep us from getting a taxi and going right to the door of -the restaurant?” - -“Why, you poor boob, those wild Indians would halt the taxi and see you -inside. They’ll be looking for some such scheme as that.” - -“I guess you’re right,” acknowledged Slim sadly. “You’re next.” - -“Well, suppose we got the restaurant on the telephone and told the -bunch that we were on the corner and couldn’t get by. Then they could -come out and rescue us.” - -“Ye-es, but that would be sort of babyish, wouldn’t it? I’d a heap -rather get there by my own--er--efforts.” - -“So would I,” responded Leonard a trifle impatiently, “but your own -efforts aren’t getting us there! And--and it’s getting late!” - -The clock said eight minutes past now. The two subsided into silence -again. Slim set down his empty glass. “Want another?” he asked -morosely. Leonard shook his head. Half a hundred more precious seconds -passed and then Leonard gave an exclamation of triumph. “Got it!” he -declared. “Got it, Slim! At least, I think so. How does this strike -you?” - -Pushing aside his glass, Leonard bent his head close and explained -his project, while Slim, at first looking dubious, at last nodded in -wholehearted approval. “Sure!” he said with conviction. “That’ll do it, -I’ll bet, General. But, hold on, how about you? That sort of leaves you -out in the storm, doesn’t it?” - -“Never mind me,” said Leonard. “You’re the important one. Besides, -I’ll make it somehow later. All I ask you to do is to see that there’s -something left when I do get there.” - -“Well,” said Slim, “if you don’t get in when I do I’ll take a bunch and -go out and get you.” - -“Thought you said that sort of thing was babyish? No, you just see -that there’s something left, Slim, and leave the rest to me. I guess -they won’t care whether I make it or not. It’s only you, as the Class -President, who interests them.” - -Slim looked doubtful, but time was passing and he had thrown down the -gauntlet to the Freshman Class. “All right,” he agreed. “Have it your -way. Let’s go.” - -“Wait a minute,” objected Leonard. “We’ve got it wrong. We’d both -better try the same end of the block. They’ve seen you in that white -sweater there and won’t be looking for you in anything else. See what I -mean?” - -“Yes, and I guess you’re right, General. And say, old son, as a general -you’re sure making good!” - -About five minutes later the watchful-waiting throng of freshmen at the -Moody street end of the block again rushed into barricade formation, -spurred on by the joyous applause of a score of juniors who, having -stationed themselves inside the barricade in the hope of witnessing -some fun, were finding the proceedings rather tame. A rickety taxi had -swung around from Market street and was attempting to penetrate the -barrier. The freshmen rallied to the threatened invasion. - -“Stop that taxi!” was the slogan. “Look inside!” - -Opposed by a solid mass of humanity, there was nothing for the driver -of the vehicle to do but stop. He did so, protesting forcibly and -most impolitely. The freshmen swarmed about the dilapidated taxicab, -breasting the sizzling radiator and showering questions on the fuming -proprietor. Others peered in through the glass. Suspense and confusion -reigned. On the corner a policeman twirled his club and looked on in -good-natured amusement. On such occasions as this the Law was ever -lenient with youth. The suspense was short-lived. A cry of joyous -triumph arose and the doors of the cab were snatched open. - -“Here he is!” was the cry. “Trying to sneak past! Nothing doing, -Staples! Try again, Soph!” - -“Pull him out!” advised a fellow well removed from the center of the -crowd. - -“Turn around, cabby! No thoroughfare, old sport! Detour by Market -street. Police orders.” - -Then of a sudden triumph came to an end. A disgusted voice arose above -the joyous clamor. “It isn’t Staples! It’s only General Grant!” - -“_What!_” “_You’re crazy!_” “_Let’s see!_” “_Show us!_” “_Oh, shucks!_” - -Leonard was extremely dignified throughout what was, quite naturally, -an annoying experience to a peaceful traveler of the city streets. “You -fellows haven’t any right,” he said firmly, “to stop this taxi. I’ve -paid the driver to take me to Kingman’s Restaurant, and--” - -“Sorry, Grant, but this street’s barred to traffic.” The snub-nosed -freshman blocking the door on one side grinned exasperatingly. Behind -him, his companions pushed and shoved in an effort to see into the dark -interior of the cab. - -“Look on the floor, Higbee! Bet you Staples is in there!” some one -shouted. Hands explored the corners and one boy produced a flash -light and cast its rays about. Disappointment was writ large on the -countenances of all. “Not here!” was proclaimed. - -“Where’d he go?” asked Higbee, who appeared to be one of the leading -spirits. - -“Who?” asked Leonard densely. - -“Slim Staples. Where’d he get to?” - -“Oh, Slim?” Leonard leaned out of one door and looked up the block. -In front of the well-lighted and for the moment unguarded entrance to -the restaurant, a tall youth paused to wave a hand ere he disappeared. -Leonard laughed softly. “Why,” he went on, “Slim’s just gone in to -dinner.” - -“Yes, he has!” jeered Higbee. But others had seen the incident, -although too late to interfere, and the dire news was being shouted up -and down the block. - -“He got in! I saw him!” “Oh, your grandmother! How could he?” “Yes, he -did! Arthur saw him, too! He stopped at the door and waved--” “What’s -that? Staples made it? When? How could he? What? Walked right in the -door! Say, where were you guys? You were supposed to--” “Come on! Let’s -stop him! Where’d he go? Who saw him?” “They say he got in!” “Rot! He’s -in the crowd somewhere! This cab was a stall! Come on, Freshmen!” - -Such a hullabaloo! Leonard, laughing, awaited his chance. It came. The -defenders of the Moody street approach forgot him entirely and went -rushing toward the door of the restaurant. Leonard slipped swiftly -from the cab and followed, taking his place in the rear ranks of the -enemy. The driver of the taxi, his fifty cents safely in his pocket, -chuckled and swung back toward Market street. - -Something over a hundred freshmen came together in a confused, pushing, -shoving mass before the restaurant entrance. Accusations of dereliction -of duty were frequent. Denials answered them. The masterful Higbee, -striving to make his voice heard above the tumult, demanded proof. -Assertions and denials battled for supremacy. Staples had gone in. -Staples hadn’t gone in. Lots of fellows had seen him. They were crazy. -Higbee waved a hand in exasperation. The policeman from the corner -appeared suddenly in the scene, his good-natured voice mildly exhorting -them to “move on now and don’t be blocking the sidewalk.” Slowly they -gave back, flocking into the street. Across the thoroughfare the -group of juniors, laughing enjoyably, forgot their neutral status and -proffered wicked advice. - -“Go on up and get him, Freshies! Don’t let him fool you that way!” - -Fortunately perhaps, the noise was still too great for the advice -to reach the freshmen. And just then a window went up on the second -floor of the building, and the shade was pushed aside. “_Oh, Fresh!_” -Comparative silence fell, and the crowd in the street craned their -heads and sought the voice, slowly backing from the entrance in their -effort to see. “_Oh, Fresh!_” Again the mocking challenge. A mutter -arose from the throng that grew rapidly into a roar of futile rage. At -the window Slim Staples smiled benignly down and waved a gay hand. - -“Who wins the bet?” he called. - -“A cold dinner for you, Slim!” shouted a freshman shrilly. A shout of -approval went up, but Slim shook his head. - -“Haven’t started yet,” he answered. “Oysters just coming up!” Grinning -faces appeared behind Slim’s at the window. “Now then, fellows, three -hearty groans for the Freshman Class!” - -With a final wave of his hand, Slim disappeared, the window closed, -and the long white shade fell back into place. A dismal silence held -the throng below. Only the unkind laughter of the juniors disturbed -the quiet of the moment. And in that moment, made desperate by Slim’s -mention of oysters, a boy in a white sweater that was somewhat too -large for him, detached himself swiftly from the group and sped toward -the doorway. The shout of warning came too late. So, too, did the -effort of the startled policeman. The latter’s hands came away empty, -and Leonard, caroming from a corner of the doorway, righted himself -and went scurrying up the flight of stairs. - -At the top he paused for an instant to glance behind. The policeman -was trying to do two things at once and succeeding. He was peering -undecidedly after the trespasser and holding back the pursuit. With -an unsteady laugh Leonard tried the knob of the door in front of him, -from behind which came the sounds of a merry party. It did not yield. -Leonard tried again and put his weight against the portal. From below -came the hoarse voice of the officer. - -“Hey, youse, come down out of that before I comes up and gets you!” - -Leonard beat a tattoo on the door. The policeman started slowly and -heavily and remorselessly up the carpeted steps. Behind him the doorway -was crowded with faces. Leonard kicked until the door shook. - -“Let me in, Sophs! This is Grant!” he shouted. - -“Come away from that now!” ordered the policeman gruffly. He was almost -at the top, and Leonard’s brief glance told him that his good-nature -was no longer to be relied on. - -“I’ve got a right in here,” panted Leonard, still pounding and kicking. -“I’m--I’m one of the party!” - -“Your party’s down below,” answered the officer grimly, and, topping -the last step, stretched out a massive hand. Leonard, backed against -the door now, waved weakly at the menace and tried to find words. Then, -just when the Law was about to clutch him, the door behind him opened -suddenly and unexpectedly and Leonard arrived on the scene of the -Sophomore Dinner in most undignified manner! - -The door closed as quickly as it had opened, leaving a surprised -policeman to scratch his head and, finally, to retrace his steps to -the sidewalk, where his appearance empty-handed summoned a groan of -disappointment from the waiting throng. That disappointment was the -last straw, and, after a rather half-hearted cheer for themselves, the -freshmen wended their way back to school. - -Upstairs, Leonard was finishing his sixth and final oyster. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -NOT ELIGIBLE - - -After a day like yesterday only one thing could be expected of the -weather, and so here was a rainy Sunday. After church came dinner, -and after dinner--well, nothing, it seemed, but a long and sleepy -afternoon. Leonard and Slim found reading matter and settled down, Slim -on the window-seat because he managed to reach it first, and Leonard -on his bed, with his own and Slim’s pillows under his head. Outside -the November afternoon was dark with lead-gray clouds and a fine, -persistent rain challenged Leonard’s optimistic prediction of clearing -weather by four o’clock. Slim grunted gloomily and hunched himself -more comfortably against the cushions. “It’s days like this,” he said, -“that account for the startling prevalence of crime during the month of -November in American preparatory schools.” - -At three Leonard laid down his book, yawned and looked through the -window. It wasn’t raining as it had been an hour ago; it was raining -harder! “As a weather prophet,” reflected Leonard, “I’m a flivver.” -He yawned again. Then: “Let’s put on our coats, Slim, and get out,” -he suggested. “This is deadly.” There was, however, no response, and -Leonard lifted himself on an elbow and looked across. Slim’s book -was laid flat across his chest, and he was fast asleep. “Sluggard!” -grumbled Leonard. He pillowed his head in his hands and considered. He -might go to sleep, too, but he didn’t want to. He might arouse Slim and -persuade him to go out. Or he might let poor old Slim alone and splash -over to The Hill and see Johnny McGrath. That’s what he would do! - -His final act before leaving the room was to slip a piece of paper -between Slim’s gently folded hands. On the paper was written: “Gone to -Europe. Back at five. Sweet dreams.” Mrs. McGrath answered Leonard’s -ring and told him that Johnny was up in his room and that he should go -right up. Meanwhile she divested Leonard of his dripping mackinaw and -bore it off to the nearest radiator to dry. Johnny was hunched in a -big chair when Leonard reached the head of the stairway and could see -into the room. His knees were close to his chin, and a big book was -propped against them. But the book was quickly laid aside when he saw -the visitor. He pushed a chair close to the radiator and forced Leonard -into it, bidding him put his feet to the warmth, and then drew up a -second chair for himself, beaming welcome the while. - -“Sure, you’re an angel,” he declared, “to drop in like this, General. -Where’s Slim that he isn’t with you?” - -“Fast asleep, the lazy coot. I guess last evening was too much for him, -Johnny.” They had progressed to the stage where “McGrath” had given -place to “Johnny.” “Did you hear about it?” - -Johnny nodded and laughed. “Yes, young Shawley was telling me this -morning. I’m sorry I didn’t go down and see the fun. You and Slim were -too smart for them, eh?” - -“Well, we got there, although I’ll confess they had us worried for -awhile. What I don’t understand is why they locked us in the room. They -must have known we’d have got out sooner or later.” - -Johnny nodded again. “I’ll tell you about that. ’Twas Reilly put the -freshmen up to it, or most of it. They had it planned, they thought, -so Slim couldn’t get to the dinner. They expected he’d start early, -and there was about twenty of the freshies waiting for him down by the -gate, where they could have got him either way he’d gone.” - -“Got him?” queried Leonard. - -“Oh, sure, nothing rough, you understand. But they had a fake note from -Coach Cade asking Slim to stop and see him, and one of them was to -give it to him, the rest being out of sight. The coach went away over -Sunday at five-forty, but Reilly had in some way got him to leave the -key to his rooms. Well, the plan was that Slim was to call at the house -over there on the corner, and some one was to say ‘Come in,’ and the -room would be dark and then, the first thing Slim would know he’d be -safe in the big closet for the evening.” - -“But Slim knew--we both knew--that Mr. Cade was going home, Johnny.” - -“Maybe, but likely he wouldn’t have remembered it, or perhaps he’d have -figured that Mr. Cade was going on a later train. Anyway, that’s how -they had it fixed. But you fellows didn’t start along early enough, and -the gang had to go to supper. So Shawley locked you in the room, to -keep you there until they could get out from supper. He’d swiped the -key earlier in the afternoon, do you see. Well, when you did start out -they knew it was too late to spring that fake note on you and so they -fixed to keep you away from the restaurant. That is, Slim. They didn’t -care so much whether you got there. You were only a--a complication, as -you might say. Remember, I tipped Slim off the other evening. I didn’t -know then what the scheme was, but I knew they were after him.” - -“So that was it,” mused Leonard. “We saw the freshies hiding around -behind trees when we got back from the game, but I didn’t suppose they -meant anything much. Neither did Slim; until we found ourselves locked -in the room.” - -“How was it Slim got there finally?” asked Johnny. “Young Shawley says -you were in a taxicab, with Slim’s white sweater on--” - -“Yes, we changed clothes. That is, I put on Slim’s sweater and he put -on my coat and an old felt hat I was wearing. You see, they’d already -seen Slim with that sweater on, and so they’d be looking for it again. -I got in the taxi on Market street and Slim walked away around by -Morrison street, coming back on Moody. We’d fixed ‘zero hour’ at seven -fifteen so he’d have time to get to the corner when I did. Of course -the freshies thought I was Slim as soon as they saw the white sweater, -and I didn’t show myself before I had to. Slim just walked into the -crowd, with my hat pulled down over his face, and while the freshies -were all clustered around the taxi he sauntered along down the street, -no one paying any attention to him. It was as easy as pie.” - -“Sure, I wish I’d been there,” chuckled Johnny. “And they say you -butted a cop out of your way afterwards and no one could stop you!” - -“I didn’t butt him. He made a dive at me and I side-stepped, showing -the value of football training, Johnny.” - -“Did you have a good dinner?” - -“Did we? Wow! And, gee, I was so hungry I couldn’t eat fast enough. We -didn’t get through until half-past nine, pretty nearly!” - -“I suppose you heard about Renneker and Jimsy Carnochan?” asked Johnny. - -“No. Who’s Jimsy-- Oh, I remember! What’s happened?” - -“Sure, nothing much--yet,” answered Johnny, “but I’m fearing something -may. It seems that Jimsy and a couple of other town fellows were coming -along River street last night when Renneker and Red Reilly and three or -four other chaps were coming back to school. They’d been over watching -the freshies, you know.” - -“I know; we passed them,” assented Leonard. - -“Well, I got it from Jimsy this forenoon after church. According to his -tell, our gang was taking up the whole sidewalk, walking five or six -abreast, maybe, and one of the fellows with Jimsy objected and shoved -into them, and there were some words. Jimsy says the juniors started -the trouble, but maybe he’s prejudiced. Anyhow, he and Renneker squared -off and punched each other a couple of times, no harm being done, do -you see, and the others shoving in spoiling it. From what Jimsy says, I -get it that Renneker laughed and wanted to shake hands, and Jimsy was -still ugly. He’s that way when he’s mad. He said something to Renneker -about ‘having the goods on him,’ and then Renneker and the others went -on. Well, now Jimsy’s awfully sore, General, and I’m fearful he’ll be -telling what he knows around town, and it’ll get to the Academy. I -argued with him, but he’s stubborn. There’s English blood in him, I’m -thinking.” - -Leonard laughed. “That’s what makes him stubborn, eh?” - -Johnny grinned. “Sure it is,” he answered stoutly. “Every one knows the -English are mules for stubbornness.” - -“Oh, well, he’ll probably get over his grouch,” said Leonard -cheerfully. “And, even if he should spill the beans, it wouldn’t be -likely to reach faculty’s ears.” - -“Maybe not,” allowed Johnny. “Not that I’d trouble much if it did, -for it looks to me like this big fellow isn’t any marvel, anyway, and -some one else might play his position fully as well and maybe better.” -He looked meaningly at Leonard, but the latter chose to disregard the -insinuation. - -“Gordon Renneker’s playing a lot better game than he did awhile back, -Johnny. Yesterday he was corking in the last part of the game with New -Falmouth.” - -“It might be,” Johnny admitted. “I didn’t go. But if I was you I’d be -sort of glad if Renneker wasn’t around, General.” - -“Oh, nonsense! There’s still Stimson and Raleigh and Falls.” - -“You’ve got Raleigh and Falls beat right now,” declared the other with -deep conviction. “And I wouldn’t wonder if you could play as good a -game as either of the others, in spite you aren’t so big.” - -“You’re crazy,” laughed Leonard. “Anyway, Johnny, I’m not kicking. I -do think that Mr. Cade will give me a show in the Oak Grove game next -Saturday, and if I make good in that it’s likely I’ll get into the -Kenly Hall fracas for a time.” - -“This Oak Grove game’s the last before the big one, isn’t it?” mused -Johnny. Leonard nodded. “Then you’ve got only the two weeks,” continued -the other reflectively. “Man, you’ve got to work! My money’s on you, -though, General, and whether this big fellow is playing or isn’t -playing I’ll be looking for you to be right there when the last fight -starts.” - -“I wish I had your confidence, Johnny,” laughed Leonard. “Unless by -‘right there’ you mean on the bench.” - -“I do not,” said Johnny decisively. “I mean playing at right guard or -left and giving the other fellows what-for!” - -“Oh, well, I hope you’re right.” - -“I know I’m right.” - -“Any English blood in you?” asked Leonard. - -Yet on Monday it almost seemed that Johnny’s hopefulness was not -without cause, for Leonard found himself treated with a new--well, -deference is hardly the word: let us say respect, although even that -word is scarcely the right one. Call it what you like, however, and the -fact remains that the new order of things entailed much harder work -than Leonard had done before. With less than two weeks remaining before -the final contest of the season, Coach Cade appeared to be striving -to present a team of worn-out and exhausted cripples for Kenly Hall’s -amusement. Yet, probably because he had brought them along fairly -slowly so far, the players proved capable of performing a lot of work -and receiving a lot of punishment in that fortnight. The time had come -to round off the corners, to smooth down the rough places, to acquire -subtleties without forgetting fundamentals. There were new plays to -learn, too, and, a little later, new signals. Perhaps Leonard worked -no harder than any one else; perhaps, because he had more to learn, -it just seemed harder. But he got on famously. There was no doubt -about that. He was fast and mettlesome and used his head. By the last -of the week he had been accepted by those in the know--and some who -weren’t--as a certain performer against Kenly Hall. When he spoke of -sore muscles or contused shins or strained ligaments Slim browbeat him -shamefully. - -“What of it?” Slim would demand fiercely. “Expect to play football -without getting bruised a little? Don’t be a pill. Why, you’ve got -Renneker and Stimson lying awake nights trying to think up some way -of beating you! Here, let’s see your old leg. Where’s that bottle of -arnica? Hold still, you silly ass! Sure, I knows it hurts, but you -needn’t throw a fit about it!” - -“Fit yourself!” Leonard would snap indignantly, being thoroughly weary -and sore all over. “Look at the way you went on when you got a black -eye that time!” - -“It wasn’t the bruise I minded, it was simply the damage to my manly -beauty. These sore places of yours won’t ever show, General, even if -you play in a bathing-suit!” - -Then, on Friday, Jimsy Carnochan returned from a brief visit to New -London and took his pen in hand, thereby considerably “gumming up” the -Alton Academy football situation. - -To Jimsy’s credit be it said that he didn’t hide behind any such -anonymity as “A Friend” or “Wellwisher” or “Fair Play.” No, sir, -Jimsy came right out and signed the bottom of that chirographic -bombshell plainly with his name, thus: “James Duffy Carnochan.” It -was a bombshell, too, if for no other reason than that it exploded -so unexpectedly. It was addressed to Coach Cade, and it reached that -already harassed gentleman by the first mail delivery on Saturday -morning. It ran as follows: - - Mr. John Cade, - 87 Academy street, - City. - - DEAR SIR: - - You might like to know that one of your football players isn’t - eligible to play on your team. His name is Renneker but it - wasn’t that last August when he played first baseman for the - Maple Leafs baseball team of New London, it was George Ralston. - He got twenty-five dollars for playing first baseman and if you - don’t believe it please communicate with John Worrall in Care - Broady Silk Mill, New London. Worrall managed the Maple Leafs - and paid the money to Ralston or Renneker cash before the game - started, as he will tell you. I guess he can’t deny it anyway, - not if you ask him right out. - - Wishing you a successful season, - - Resply yours, - - JAMES DUFFY CARNOCHAN. - -Coach Cade frowned, read the epistle a second time, laughed shortly and -thrust it into a pocket. He had received similar communications before -to-day, sometimes written in good faith, sometimes purely mischievous. -Then he reflected that here must be an example of the former sort, -since the writer had not only signed his name but, evidently as -an after-thought, placed an address on the flap of the envelope. -Nevertheless, in the press of other matters Coach Cade forgot the -letter for several hours, and it wasn’t until he pulled it forth from -his pocket when seeking another document that he recalled its annoying -existence. This was just after early dinner was over at training table, -and Gordon Renneker was still in sight by the dining hall door. The -coach excused himself to Tod Tenney and made after the player. - -“Renneker,” he said, overtaking the big fellow just outside the hall, -“got a minute to spare?” - -Renneker assented and followed the other along the path that led -around to the gymnasium. Coach Cade produced the letter and handed it -to Renneker. “Got that in the morning’s mail,” he explained. “I’m not -taking any stock in it, you understand, but you’d better see it.” - -Gordon Renneker read the epistle through calmly and handed it back, -with a smile. The smile, however, was not quite natural, and the coach -noted the fact. “Well,” he asked, “what about it?” - -“I’d say,” replied Renneker, “it’s a case of mistaken identity.” - -“Probably,” agreed Johnny, eyeing him sharply nevertheless. “I presume -you never played baseball on this team?” - -“No,” answered the other. The coach waited for further words, but -Renneker seemed to have finished with the subject. The coach frowned. -He put the letter back into a pocket. - -“Know this fellow Carnochan?” he asked. - -“No. I never heard of him before.” - -“H’m, funny he has it in for you, then.” - -Renneker shrugged. “He may know me, Coach,” he suggested. “I think I’ll -look the beggar up and ask him what’s on his mind. What’s the address? -Mind if I have the letter?” - -“I’ll give you the address and you can set it down. Got a pencil? ‘164 -Orchard street, 2nd Bell.’ You know, of course, that if you had played -on that team, and received money for doing it, you couldn’t play here, -Renneker.” - -“Naturally.” - -“All right. When you see this chap you’d better convince him that he’s -mistaken. We don’t want him writing that sort of a letter to Kenly Hall -or shooting off his mouth to the newspapers.” - -“He wouldn’t do that, would he?” exclaimed Renneker with evident -dismay. “Talk to the newspapers, I mean.” - -“I don’t know, son. Look here, Renneker, there’s something in this. -You’d better come clean, my boy, and save trouble later.” - -There was no answer for a minute. Renneker was studying the ground -intently. Coach Cade didn’t like the look on his face. Finally Renneker -looked up and laughed shortly. - -“I fancy you’re right,” he said. “I’ll hand in my togs.” - -“What! But, great Scott, man, you don’t mean to tell me--” - -“I’m not telling anything,” answered Renneker evenly. “I’m just not -denying.” - -“And you came here with this thing hanging over your head and let us -waste our time on you, knowing that it was bound to come out! Renneker, -I’d like to--to--” - -“Wrong, sir. I didn’t know it would come out. I’m sorry. If there’s -anything more I can say, I’ll say it, but it doesn’t occur to me at the -moment. I’m just--awfully sorry, Mr. Cade.” - -He turned and went off, unhurriedly, shoulders back. - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -RIGHT GUARD GRANT - - -Captain Emerson, Billy Wells, Bee Appel and Perry Stimson had gone over -to Lakeville to watch Kenly Hall play Rutledge. Consequently Alton -faced Oak Grove that afternoon minus the services of five of her best -players. Kerrison took Rus’s place at right end, Wilde substituted -for the “demon tackle,” as Slim called Billy Wells, Carpenter went -in at quarter, a newcomer named Grant played right guard and Raleigh -played left. Probably Coach Cade could have sprinkled in half a dozen -third-string players beside and still seen the contest won by the -Gray-and-Gold, for Oak Grove, selected for the last game but one -because she was never formidable, proved weak beyond expectation. -Alton piled up three scores in the first two periods, for a total -of 21 points, and held the visitor to a field-goal. When the third -quarter started Cruikshank was at the helm, and Goodwin, Kendall and -Dakin completed the backfield. As the final half progressed other -substitutions took place and when the last whistle blew only one man -was on who had started the contest, and that man was Sam Butler. -Leonard stayed on until the fourth period and then gave way to Falls. -Two more scores, a touchdown and a field-goal by Kendall from the -thirty-four yards, had added 10 points more to an impressive total. Oak -Grove had, however, in the third period taken advantage of a fumble by -Cruikshank and banged her way through for a touchdown, and the final -figures were 31 to 10. - -Leonard played a good if not startling game at right guard that -afternoon. Perhaps he would have performed better had there been -more incentive, but Oak Grove’s inferiority had shown early in the -game, and Alton’s first two scores had been made before the first -period was done, and one doesn’t fight as hard against a vanquished -opponent as against one who still threatens. Besides that, Leonard’s -adversaries--there were two of them--were not difficult. On the whole, -that game proved scarcely good practice for the home team. - -What had happened to Gordon Renneker was a question that many asked, -for the former right guard was neither on the side-line or in the -stand. Some insisted that he had accompanied the scouts to Lakeville, -but that explanation was refused by others who had seen him at least -an hour after dinner time. Leonard wondered and speculated, too, but -it wasn’t until Johnny McGrath dropped in at Number 12 Haylow that -evening, just as Slim and Leonard were starting for the movies, that -the matter was cleared up for him. Jimsy Carnochan, it seemed, had met -Johnny on the street just before supper and confessed to having written -to Coach Cade. - -“I guess he was sort of sorry he’d done it,” said Johnny, “but he -wouldn’t say so. Maybe I didn’t read the riot-act to him, though! We -nearly had a scrap!” - -“I hope he chokes!” commented Slim bitterly. “That was a swell thing to -do, just before the Kenly game! Leaves us flat for a right guard, and -no time to find one. He ought to be--be--” - -“I guess it was more my fault than any one’s,” said Johnny regretfully. -“I shouldn’t have lugged him to the game that time and let him see -Renneker.” - -“You bet you shouldn’t,” agreed Slim heartily. But Leonard demurred. - -“Piffle,” he said, “Johnny isn’t to blame. Better blame Renneker for -getting fresh the other night and getting Carnochan down on him. Maybe -we’re taking too much for granted, anyway, fellows. Maybe Mr. Cade just -kept Renneker out of to-day’s game while he looks into the business.” - -“Renneker wasn’t at training table for supper,” said Slim. “That means -that he’s done for. I call it a pretty rotten piece of business!” - -They lugged Johnny along to the pictures and discussed the matter -very thoroughly both going and returning. Slim agreed eventually that -maybe Leonard would hold down Renneker’s position satisfactorily, but -they couldn’t get him to acknowledge that Mr. Cade had acted rightly -in dismissing Renneker from the team. He said some very disapproving -things of the coach, sneered at him for being a “Lily-white” and -doubted that he or any one else could present adequate proof that -Renneker had received money for playing baseball. Especially, however, -he was bitter against Carnochan, and would have sought that gentleman -out and presented him with a piece of his mind had not Leonard and -Johnny dissuaded him. In the end they all agreed that it was up to them -to keep what they knew to themselves, and by Monday they were very -glad that they had, for Gordon Renneker was out on the field in togs -coaching the guards and the news was abroad that he had been dropped -because of difficulties with the Office. That was such a plausible -explanation that no one doubted it, although one might have wondered -how it was that he was allowed to aid in the coaching. The incident -seemed to have made no great difference to Renneker. He was perhaps a -bit more stand-offish than ever and inclined to sarcastic criticisms -that seldom failed to get under the skin of Raleigh, who, worried -over his failure to make progress that fall, was in no mood for the -big fellow’s caustic humor. That the two never quite came to blows -was chiefly due to the fact that practice came to an end just before -Raleigh’s patience did. - -Leonard had definitely taken Renneker’s position. Had Leonard had -any doubt about it Coach Cade’s announcement on Tuesday would have -dispelled it. “You’ll start the Kenly game, Grant,” said the coach -after practice that afternoon, “and I expect you to show me that I -haven’t made a mistake in selecting you instead of Falls. You’ve done -very well indeed so far. You play a fast, heady game, my boy, and I’ll -say frankly that when you’ve two or three more inches and another -twenty pounds on you you’ll be a mighty good guard. You’ve got faults, -but I hope you’ll get rid of most of them by Saturday. Starting before -the ball is one of them. Tenney has four cases marked against you, and -just because you’ve got by so far without being penalized doesn’t mean -that you won’t get caught finally. And when an official once finds a -player off-side he watches that player hard ever after; and sometimes -he sees faults where there aren’t any, without meaning to. It’s just -a case of giving a dog a bad name. I want you to steady down and look -out for that trouble. Another thing, Grant, is over-eagerness to get -through. It’s a good fault, if any fault can be said to be good, but -it works against the play sometimes. Frequently you’re across the line -when you ought to be still on your own side, which means that you’re -out of the play when you might be helping it along. When you get your -signal think what it means. Think where the play’s going and what your -part is in it. Don’t break through and think afterwards, Grant. You’ve -got a good nose for the ball, but don’t let it run away with you. It’s -a fine thing to be able to put your man out and then get down the field -under a punt, but we’ve got ends and backs to do that trick. Your part -is to guard your center until the ball is passed, on attack, and then -make the hole or stop the other fellow from coming through. In other -words, you’re a bulldog first and a grayhound afterwards. Once you’ve -done your duty thoroughly I don’t care how hard you go after the ball, -but don’t skimp the duty. Sure first and then fast, ought to be your -motto, my boy. How are you feeling?” - -“Fine,” answered Leonard stoutly. - -The coach smiled. “Good! What’s the matter with that ankle?” - -“Ankle?” repeated Leonard innocently. - -“Yes, the left one. You’ve been limping, you know.” - -“Oh, that! Why, nothing at all, sir. I gave it a sort of a turn, you -know.” - -“Tell the trainer to look at it, and don’t forget it.” - -Captain Emerson and his brother scouts had brought back scant -information from the Kenly Hall-Rutledge game. Rutledge had been -outclassed from the first, and, without showing too much of her -possibilities, Kenly had piled up 16 points against her while keeping -her own goal intact. Kenly had made an average showing during the -season. She had played one more game than Alton and had won all but two -of them. Lorimer had beaten her decisively and Middleboro had tied her -at 7 to 7. She had, for her, a light team, but one that was capable of -speed and versatility. She had specialized in forward-passing during -the early part of the season, but of late had fallen back on line plays -for her gains, although signs were not wanting that forward-passes were -still in her repertory. Briefly, Kenly Hall School was rather more of -a mystery to her ancient rival this year than she generally was, and, -since it is human nature to fear the unknown, there was less confidence -at Alton than was usual before the big game. - -The eleventh-hour loss of Gordon Renneker was a severe blow to most -followers of the game at Alton. There were many who believed, not -a few very ardently, in Leonard Grant’s ability to completely fill -Renneker’s shoes, but they were in the minority. It stood to reason, -naturally, that a youngster like Grant, lacking size, weight and -experience could not wholly take the place of an All-Scholastic star. -Leonard himself agreed with the majority. Oddly enough, Gordon Renneker -did not. This was divulged on Wednesday when, after a half-hour of -strenuous work for the guards and tackles and centers, the little -squad returned to the bench and blankets to await their call to the -scrimmage. Leonard found Renneker beside him when he had pulled -the gray blanket around him. So far what might be called personal -intercourse between them had been limited to those few words exchanged -in the taxicab on the occasion of their arrival at Alton two months -before. Now, after a moment, Renneker said abruptly: - -“You’re going mighty well, Grant.” - -“Thanks,” Leonard stammered. In spite of himself, he still found -it impossible not to be impressed and a bit awed by Renneker’s -imperturbable air of superiority. - -“I don’t see why you shouldn’t hold down that place as well as I could -have done,” the other continued thoughtfully. “Hope so. Nasty trick, my -getting dropped, Grant. I wouldn’t want the team to suffer by it. I -don’t fancy it will, though, if you play the way I think you can.” - -“Well, I don’t know,” muttered the other. “Aren’t you--isn’t there any -chance of you getting in Saturday?” - -“Oh, dear, no,” replied Renneker calmly. “Not a chance.” - -“I’m sorry,” said Leonard. Renneker turned a slow glance on him. Then: -“Thanks, but it’s of no consequence,” he said. - -He nodded carelessly, arose and sauntered away. - -Leonard wondered why he had asked such an idle question. He had known -well enough that Renneker wouldn’t get back. He felt very sorry for him -just then. - -Later, he told Slim what Renneker had said, and Slim frowned and -grunted: “Mighty decent of him, I’ll say.” - -Leonard assented, but with too little enthusiasm to satisfy the other. -“If it was me,” Slim went on, “I guess I wouldn’t be talking like that -to you. I’d be feeling too sore about losing my position.” - -“Well, but it isn’t my fault he’s off the team,” objected Leonard, -mildly. - -Slim grunted again. “Never mind; he’s off, and that’s what counts!” - -Leonard felt that there was something wrong somewhere in Slim’s point -of view, but he was too tired to pursue the matter. - -There was a short session against the second team on Thursday, and then -the whistle blew for the last time, and the season on Alton Field was -at an end. The second cheered and was cheered and, finally, followed -by the onlookers, crossed back to their own field and started a fire. -A battered and discarded football, bearing a leering countenance -painted on with white pigment, was set atop the pyre and the scrubs -joined hands and danced riotously around it. The fact that the football -subsided into ruins with only a faint sigh, instead of expiring with a -resonant _bang_, was accepted as an ill omen of Saturday’s game. But -the omen did not appear to affect the second team spirits appreciably! - -Friday was a day of rest, but there was an hour of signal drill in -the gymnasium in the afternoon and a brief blackboard lecture by the -coach in the evening. The latter was over by eight-fifteen, however, -and afterwards Slim tried to persuade Leonard to accompany him to the -final mass meeting in the auditorium. But Leonard had no mind for it, -and Slim, realizing that his friend was having a mild attack of nerves, -didn’t persist long. Going out, he stopped at the door to say: “I -wouldn’t think too much about to-morrow, General; about the game, you -know. Better get a good story and read. I’ll be back soon.” - -Leonard was willing to follow the other’s advice, but it wasn’t so -easy. And when he looked for the good story it wasn’t to be found. At -length he decided to walk over to the library and get a book, although, -since the auditorium was above the library, he had no intention of -tarrying there. It was a nice night, just frostily cold and with a -couple of trillions of white stars winking away in a blue-black sky. -Even with his mackinaw unbuttoned he was quite comfortable. Long before -he neared Memorial he could hear the singing. - - “Cheer for the Gray-and-Gold! - Flag of the brave and bold--” - -A long, measured cheer followed the last strain, and then came silence. -No, not silence, for Leonard was close to the building now and could -hear at intervals a word or two. Some one was speaking. There was a -sudden burst of applause, quickly suppressed. Then he was entering -the library. The long room with its mellow warmth and its two rows of -cone-shaped green shades was deserted save for the presence in a corner -of a small freshman hunched absorbedly over a book. Leonard paused -outside the door, suddenly distasteful of libraries and books. Then he -turned back and went down the steps again. It was far nicer outdoors, -he thought. He would cross the grass to River street and walk around by -Academy and Meadow to the farther gate. Probably by the time he reached -the room again Slim would have returned, and then he could go to bed. -Not, however, that bed held any great appeal, for he was quite sure he -wouldn’t be able to get to sleep for hours. - -Short of the first street light, that on the corner, he descried -a shape ahead of him. Some one else, it appeared, scorned indoors -to-night. The shape was tall and broad, and Leonard suspected one -of the faculty, perhaps Mr. Screven, and hoped that he could get by -without having to say more than “Good evening.” He couldn’t imagine -anything more deadly than being obliged to loll along and listen to Mr. -Screven’s monotonous voice. But, a few paces behind now, he saw that -the solitary pedestrian was not Mr. Screven, was not, indeed, a faculty -at all, but Gordon Renneker. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -RENNEKER EXPLAINS - - -Leonard was still assimilating that fact when Renneker turned and -recognized him in the light of the corner lamp. “Hello, Grant,” said -the big fellow. There seemed to Leonard a tone of almost friendliness -in that greeting. - -“Hello,” he answered. He wanted to add something else, something about -the weather, but it wouldn’t come. It was the other who supplied the -conventional observation. - -“Corking night,” said Renneker. “It looks like a fine day for the game -to-morrow.” - -They were side by side now. Leonard wondered whether he should go -on, maintaining his own pace, or slow down and suit his steps to -Renneker’s. It was sort of embarrassing, he thought. He agreed about -the weather and Renneker spoke again. - -“I suppose you’re trying to walk them off,” he said. - -“Walk them off?” echoed Leonard. There seemed nothing to do save fall -in step with the other. - -“Nerves,” explained Renneker. “Guess that’s what I’m doing myself.” - -“Oh,” said Leonard a bit sheepishly. “Yes, I--I guess I am. At least, -I suppose it’s nerves. Slim wanted me to go to the mass meeting, but I -sort of hated being with that howling mob to-night.” - -“Exactly.” They had reached the corner and with one consent turned now -and went slowly along Academy street. “Funny how panicky you can get -the night before a game,” mused Renneker. - -Leonard laughed incredulously. “I can’t imagine you ever getting like -that,” he said. - -“I do, though,” replied the other in his even voice. “Always have. Of -course, it’s absolute rot, because you know that just as soon as the -whistle blows you’re going to be perfectly all right again.” - -“Wish I knew that,” answered Leonard. - -“You do, only you can’t remember it.” There was a silence then while -Leonard tried to digest that statement. Then Renneker went on. “It’s -rather absurd for me to be feeling jumpy to-night, for I’m not going to -play. Must be just habit, I suppose. Queer.” - -“I wish you were going to play,” said Leonard with such evident -sincerity that Renneker looked down curiously at him. - -“You do? I shouldn’t think you would.” He laughed shortly. “You might -be out of it yourself if I did, Grant.” - -“I know, but--well, it’s just sort of an accident with me, while you -really belong, Renneker. I don’t suppose that sounds very clear.” - -“Oh, yes. Well, I guess you’ll get on all right, Grant. If you do, it -won’t matter much about me. Of course, I am disappointed, hang it! -The whole silly thing is so--so--” He seemed almost on the point of -becoming agitated, which was perhaps why he stopped abruptly. After a -moment he continued with a note of amusement. “Really, Grant, I don’t -know why I’m chattering to you like this. I don’t believe we ever spoke -before yesterday. It must be the nerves!” - -“Oh, yes, we have,” answered Leonard. “Spoken, I mean. We came up from -the station together that first day.” - -“We did?” Renneker seemed to be searching his memory. “Oh, then you -were that chap in the taxi. I’d forgotten.” - -Leonard believed it. “I guess talking sort of does a fellow good,” he -said after a moment. “When he’s jumpy, I mean.” - -“I dare say.” There was silence again while they came to the main gate -and passed it unheedingly. Across Academy street the light in Coach -Cade’s front room was turned down. “I suppose he’s at the meeting,” -said Renneker. “Sort of a decent chap, Cade.” - -“Yes,” agreed Leonard, “I think so. All the fellows seem to like him.” - -“Including me?” asked Renneker dryly. - -“Why, I don’t know,” stammered Leonard. “Yes, I guess so. It wasn’t his -fault, after all, was it? I mean I suppose he had to do it.” - -“Do what?” asked Renneker, peering down. - -“Why,” floundered Leonard, “I mean he had to--to do his duty. Stick to -rules, you know. He wasn’t--” - -“Then you think it was Johnny who put me off?” - -Leonard pulled up with a start. He wasn’t supposed to know a thing, and -here he had been giving himself away. He sought for a way out. Renneker -broke the silence. - -“Look here, Grant, I don’t get this at all. Has Mr. Cade been talking?” - -“No, not to me, at any rate.” - -“Well, somebody has,” pursued Renneker grimly. “What have you heard, -Grant? I wish you’d tell me.” - -After an instant’s hesitation Leonard did so. Renneker listened in -silence. “None of us have breathed a word of it,” concluded the speaker -earnestly. “Only Carnochan, and he was sore because of that scrap.” - -“Scrap be blowed,” said Renneker. “There wasn’t any scrap. Those -fellows pushed into us and we had some words, merely joking. Then this -fellow suddenly jumped at Reilly and tried to punch him and I stepped -in the way and got the punch. I told him to behave and he jabbed at me -again. Then I gave him one in the ribs. That’s all there was to it. As -far as we were concerned, the whole thing was a joke, but that crazy -Irishman lost his temper, I guess.” - -“Yes,” said Leonard, “I guess, from what Johnny says, that he’s sort of -hot-headed.” - -“Decidedly! And his hot-headedness has played the dickens with me, -Grant. Look here, are you in a hurry? Let’s sit down a minute. You’ve -heard part of the story, and I’d like to tell you the rest of it. It’ll -do me good to get it off my chest to some one, I fancy.” - -They swung themselves to the top rail of the fence in the shadow -between two lights and Renneker went on. - -“This is confidential, Grant. I’d rather you didn’t say anything about -it to any one, if you don’t mind. It might make worse trouble if it -got around. Thanks. Now, let’s see. I think I’d better start at the -beginning. I dare say you’ve heard that I got a bit of a reputation at -Castle City High as a guard. We have pretty good teams there, and we -generally manage to lick about every one we go up against. I don’t -believe I was much better than half a dozen other chaps on our team, -last year or the year before, but it sort of got around that I was good -and the New York papers played me up. There’s a fellow named Cravath -who lives in my town and he went to school here at Alton. Last summer -he got after me. Told me about Alton and how much more of a chance -there was for me here. I liked the high school well enough, but I’d -always had an idea that I’d prefer a prep school. Besides, when it -comes to going to college it’s a help if you go up from a well-known -school like Alton. We haven’t much money; the family I mean. Father -used to be very well off some six or eight years ago, and we grew up -rather free-handed, us kids. Then he lost it. Quite a spectacular -bust-up, Grant, but it wouldn’t interest you. What I’m getting at is -that when it came to a question of coming here for two years the lot of -us had to do some figuring. - -“There are three of us; George, who is the oldest--two years older than -me--Grace, who comes in between, and me. George was starting college -this fall, and Grace is in school in New York. So there wasn’t an awful -lot of money for me, you see. Oh, well, that hasn’t much to do with -it. I’m making a beastly long story of this. Anyway, father managed -to get hold of some money and said I could come up here, although he -wasn’t very keen about it, I fancy. And I came. I knew that the reason -Dick Cravath was so anxious to get me here was because I could play -football, and I intended making good. But I haven’t done it. Oh, I’ve -played, but I haven’t played the way I should, or the way I can, Grant. -And I guess the main reason was because this thing’s been hanging over -my head all the time. I’ve been waiting for it to break ever since the -day I came up from New York.” - -“Then,” exclaimed Leonard, “you knew that--that Johnny McGrath-- But -you couldn’t have!” - -“No, all I knew was what I got from a pimply-faced fellow who sold -papers and magazines on the train. I bought a magazine from him and he -looked me over and winked. ‘Say, I know you, all right,’ he told me. -‘You’re Ralston. I saw you play in a game in New London.’ I told him he -was wrong, but he wouldn’t have it that way. He told me all about the -game. Even knew how much money the club there had paid me for playing -first base. I let him talk, because I wanted to learn what he knew. -When he told me I’d played against a team called the Crescents from -this town I knew I was in for trouble. I was pretty sure that sooner -or later some chap who had played with the Crescents would see me and -recognize me. Well, I fancy that got on my mind, Grant. In fact, I -know it did. I couldn’t seem to play the way I played last year. Of -course, I might have turned around when I got here that day and gone -back, after getting that story from the train-boy, but--oh, well, you -always trust to the off chance. I don’t know now whether I’m sorry or -not that I didn’t turn back. I’m out of football this year, but I like -the school, and I’ve met some nice fellows. I--don’t know.” Renneker’s -voice dwindled into silence. - -Nine o’clock struck from a church tower. Leonard sat, none too -comfortably, on the angular rail and puzzled. All through his narrative -his companion had sounded an under note of resentment, as though Fate -had dealt unjustly with him. Of course, it was hard luck to get dropped -from the team as Renneker had, but after all he had no one to blame but -himself. Leonard sought an answer to one of the features of the story -that puzzled him. - -“You didn’t know the Crescents came from here, then?” he asked. “I mean -the day you played against them at New London.” - -“What? Oh! No, I didn’t know that, Grant, because, you see, I wasn’t -there.” - -“You weren’t--where?” inquired Leonard blankly. - -“At New London,” replied Renneker calmly. - -“Then how--” Leonard blinked at the other in the gloom. “But you’ve -said you were! If you weren’t at New London, how did you play first -base for the--the Maple Leaf nine?” - -“I didn’t.” - -Leonard laughed flatly. “I guess I’m stupid,” he said. - -“I’ve got your promise that this goes no further?” asked Renneker. -Leonard nodded vigorously. “All right. I didn’t play on that team, -Grant. I couldn’t. I’m no good at all at baseball. That was my brother.” - -“Your brother!” exclaimed Leonard. - -“Yes. He looks like me, a whole lot like me, although if you saw us -together you wouldn’t be fooled long. He’s two years older than I am, -nearly three, and he’s an inch taller but not quite so heavy. His name -is George Ralston Renneker, Ralston after my mother’s folks. That’s -why I knew what was up when the train boy put that name on me. George -is--oh, he’s all right, Grant, but he’s a nut. Sort of crazy about -some things. We’ve always been great pals, but I’ve bawled him out a -thousand times. He hasn’t any idea about the value of money and he -keeps right on spending it just as if we still had it. When he gets -flat and father won’t come across he goes off and plays baseball or -hockey or anything to get some coin. He can do just about anything -fairly well, you see. I suppose it isn’t always just the money, -either, for he’s nuts on all sorts of sports, and he has to keep going -at something or bust. Once he rode in a steeplechase near home and -got thrown and had a couple of ribs broken. There wasn’t any money in -it that time. He just did it for fun, for the adventure. I fancy he’d -jump off the Woolworth Tower with an umbrella if there was enough money -waiting him below! Sometimes he makes quite a lot of money. Once he -drew down a hundred and fifty for a ten-round preliminary bout over in -Philadelphia. He boxes rather better than he does anything, I fancy. -He was the ‘Trenton Kid’ that night. Usually he goes under the name of -George Ralston. He’s a nut, Grant.” - -Leonard digested this remarkable information in silence for a moment. -Then: “But if it wasn’t you, Renneker,” he exclaimed, “why did you let -them drop you from the team? I don’t see that.” - -“You will in a minute,” answered the other patiently. “George is -at--well, never mind the college; it’s not more than a hundred miles -from here. This is his first year. I dare say it will be his last, too, -for he doesn’t stick long. He went to three schools. But I don’t want -him to get in trouble if I can help it. He’s out for baseball and track -already, and he will probably try hockey, too. If this thing got around -he’d be dished, and it would mean a lot more to him than it did to me. -Of course, you can say that I’m compounding a felony or something, but -I don’t care if you do. I realize that George hasn’t any right to take -part in athletics at his college, but that’s between him and his own -conscience. I’m not going to be the one to queer him. I’ve known all -along that when this thing broke it would be up to me to be the goat. -Well, it did. And I am.” - -Leonard shook his head. “It isn’t right, though, Renneker. It puts you -out of football--and everything else, for that matter--this year and -next. Why, even when you go up to college this thing will follow you, I -guess!” - -“Well, I’m rather expecting that by next fall I can tell the truth,” -answered Renneker. “It isn’t likely that poor old George will last -more than his freshman year without getting found out. If they have -something else on him one more thing won’t matter, I guess. Anyway, I -mean to keep in training on the chance of it.” - -“Does he know about it?” asked Leonard presently. “That you’re taking -the blame for this and have lost your place on the team?” - -“Oh, no. What’s the use of worrying him about it? He’d be just idiot -enough to give the snap away and spoil his own fun.” - -“Serve him right,” said Leonard indignantly. “I think it’s a rotten -shame that you’ve got to suffer for his--his misdoings!” - -“Oh, well, it isn’t as bad as that. I guess I’ve groused a good deal, -Grant, but, after all, I’m glad to do it for the old coot. He’d do -anything in the world for me without batting an eye-lid. Besides, I’m -feeling quite a lot better now that I’ve unburdened my mind to some -one. Talk does help a lot sometimes, and I fancy Providence must have -sent you forth to-night to hear my tale of woe. Much obliged, really, -for being so patient, my dear chap.” - -“Don’t be an ass,” begged Leonard. Half an hour before he would have -gasped at the idea of inferring that Renneker was an ass, but just now -it didn’t even occur to him. “I was glad to listen. Just the same, -Renneker, you are acting wrong in this business. I suppose I can’t -convince you--” - -“Afraid not, Grant.” - -“--but it’s a fact, just the same. Aside from everything else, you owe -something to the team and the School, and you’re letting them both down -when you do this thing. You--you’re endangering to-morrow’s game, and--” - -“I’ve thought of all that, Grant, and I don’t agree with you. My own -people come before the School or the team--” - -“But, Great Scott,” interrupted Leonard impatiently, “in this case -your own people, your brother, I mean, is in the wrong! You’re helping -him to get away with something that isn’t--” - -“Absolutely, but when it _is_ your brother that doesn’t count much with -you.” - -“It ought to,” muttered Leonard. - -“Possibly, but it doesn’t. As for to-morrow’s game, Grant, I’m -absolutely sincere when I say that I believe you will do just as well -as I’d have done.” - -“That’s nonsense,” Leonard protested. - -“No, it isn’t, really. I haven’t been playing much of a game this fall. -I’ve just managed to keep my position, and that’s about all. Johnny -Cade has been on the point of dropping me into the subs lots of times. -I’ve seen it and I’ve had to act haughty and pull a bluff to keep him -from doing it.” - -“That’s all right,” persisted the younger boy doggedly, “but you say -yourself that was because this business was hanging over you. Well, -it isn’t hanging over you any longer, and there’s no reason why you -shouldn’t play to-morrow as well as you’ve ever played. Now, isn’t that -so?” - -“My dear chap,” replied Renneker, smoothly evasive, “you ought to be a -prosecuting attorney or something. I say, what time is it getting to -be? You fellows are supposed to be in hall by nine-thirty.” - -“It isn’t that yet,” answered Leonard. But he slid down from the fence -and fell into step beside the other. He tried very hard to think of -something that would persuade Renneker out of this pig-headed, idiotic -course. He grudgingly admired the big fellow for what he had done. It -was chivalrous and generous and all that sort of thing, this business -of being the goat for Brother George, but Leonard didn’t know Brother -George and he couldn’t summon any sympathy for him. When he did speak -again they were well up the broad path to Academy Hall, and what he -said wasn’t at all what he had sought for. - -“I do wish you’d think this over to-night, Renneker,” he pleaded. - -“My dear chap,” replied the other very patiently and kindly, “you -mustn’t think any more about it. It’s all settled, and there’s no harm -done. If you keep on, you know, you’ll make me sorry I confided in -you.” Renneker laughed softly. - -“I don’t care,” persisted Leonard weakly. “It’s a rotten shame!” Then -an idea came to him. “Look here,” he exclaimed, “what’s to keep me from -telling Johnny?” - -“Not a thing,” was the cool response, “except your promise not to.” - -Leonard growled inarticulately. - -In front of Academy they parted, Renneker to seek his room in Upton, -and Leonard to take the other direction. The mass meeting was over and -the fellows were pouring out from Memorial, still noisily enthusiastic. -“Well, I hope I haven’t added to your nerves, Grant,” said Renneker. -“Just remember that when the whistle blows you won’t have any, and that -having them now consequently doesn’t matter one iota. That may help. -I’m in Upton, you know; Number 9. Come in and see me some time, won’t -you? Good night.” - -“Good night,” replied Leonard. He had difficulty making his voice sound -disapproving, but he managed it after a fashion. Renneker laughed as he -turned away. - -“Try to forget my faults, Grant,” he called back, “and think only of my -many virtues!” - -Upstairs in Number 12 Slim was displaying a hurt expression. He had -left the meeting when it was no more than half over to hurry back -and stroke the other’s head, he explained, and here the other was -gallivanting around the campus! Leonard apologized. He did not, -however, mention Renneker. Why, he couldn’t have told. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -BEFORE THE BATTLE - - -The squad, thirty-one in all, including coaches, managers, trainer and -rubbers, left Alton the next forenoon at a little after ten o’clock. -About every one else around the academy took the train that left at -twelve-eight, partaking of an early and hurried dinner at half-past -eleven. As very few were at all concerned with food just then, being -much too excited, no one missed the train. - -Unexpectedly, Leonard had slept exceedingly sound and for a full eight -hours and a half. He had lain awake no later than eleven, while Slim, -though more of a veteran, had heard midnight strike, as he aggrievedly -proclaimed in the morning. Possibly it was that conversation with -Gordon Renneker that was to be credited with Leonard’s early and sound -slumber, for Renneker’s affairs had driven all thoughts of Leonard’s -from the latter’s mind, and instead of being nervous and jumpy he had -been merely impatient and indignant--and sometimes admiring--and had -made himself sleepy trying to think up some way of inducing Renneker to -stop being a Don Quixote and act like a rational human being. He hadn’t -solved his problem, but he had sent himself to sleep. - -Renneker, having worked hard if briefly at coaching the linemen, went -along with the squad. So, too, did Mr. Fadden, who, having wrestled -with the problem of the second team for some five weeks, was now in -position to act, in an advisory capacity, as Mr. Cade’s assistant. In -the hustle for seats in the special car that had been tacked onto the -long train for the accommodation of the team, Leonard and his suit-case -got tucked into a corner of a seat near the rear door, escape, had he -desired it, being prevented by the generous bulk of Jim Newton. He -and Jim talked a little, but the center had supplied himself with a -New York morning paper at the station and was soon deep in a frowning -perusal of the football news. That Renneker would change his mind, make -a clean breast of everything and come back into the fold was something -Leonard had hoped for up to the last moment of leaving school. But he -hadn’t done anything of the sort. That was proved by the fact that he -carried no bag. You couldn’t quite vision Gordon Renneker facing Kenly -Hall on the football gridiron in an immaculate suit of blue serge, a -pale yellow shirt and black-and-white sport shoes! So Leonard’s hopes -went glimmering, and when Renneker, passing him on the platform, -nodded and said, “Hi, old chap!” Leonard just grunted and scowled his -disappointment. - -The day was a lot colder than the evening had presaged, but it was -fair and there were few clouds in the very blue sky. The car, like most -railway cars, was incapable of compromise in the matter of temperature. -Since it was not freezing cold it was tropically hot. Squeezed in -there by the steam pipes, with Jim Newton overflowing on him, Leonard -suffered as long as possible and then forced a way past the grunting -Newton and sought the water tank. Of course the water was close to the -temperature of the car, but that was to be expected. At least, it was -wet. After two drinks from the razor-like edge of a paper cup that -was enough to make one long for the unhygienic days of old, he went -forward, resisting the blandishments of those who would have detained -him, and passed into the car ahead. There were plenty of seats here, -and, although that may have been just his imagination, the car seemed -cooler by several degrees. It wasn’t until he had slammed the door -behind him that he saw Gordon Renneker in the first seat at the left. -Renneker looked up, nodded and moved slightly closer to the window. Of -course, Leonard reflected, he thinks I saw him come in here and have -followed him on purpose. Well, I’ll show him! - -“Hello,” he said aloud, taking the seat after a moment of seeming -indecision, “I didn’t know you were in here. It got so hot back there -that I had to get out.” - -“I came in here,” replied Renneker, “because Mr. Fadden insisted on -telling me how much better football was played in his day. It seems, -Grant, that ten or twenty years ago every team consisted of eleven -Olympians. Every man Jack was a star of the first magnitude and a -Prince among fellows. Fadden says so. Why, every blessed one of the -chaps who played on his team in college is to-day either President of -the United States or president of one of the big railroad systems. -Every one, that is, except Fadden. I don’t know what happened to him. -He seems to have been the only mediocre chap in the bunch. I must ask -him about that some time,” Renneker ended musingly. - -Leonard laughed in spite of himself. He hadn’t wanted to laugh. He -had wanted to make Renneker understand clearly that he was still as -strongly disapproving of his conduct as ever. But Renneker was sort -of different to-day. He was lighter-hearted and even facetious, it -appeared. Leonard had to thaw. They talked about the game for a few -minutes, but neither introduced the subject of last evening’s talk -until, as though suddenly reminded, Renneker said: “By the way, Grant, -remember what we were talking about last night? What I was, that is!” -He laughed gently and put a hand into a pocket of his coat. “Well, I -want you to read this. It’s rather a joke on me, and you’ll probably -enjoy it hugely. This came by this morning’s mail.” - -He produced an envelope from his pocket and took forth a single sheet -of twice-folded paper and handed it to Leonard. “Read it,” he said. -Leonard opened it and saw, at the top, the name, in none too modest -characters, of a New York hotel. Then he read: - - - “DEAR GORDIE: - - “Well, we’re off again, old timer. Came down last night and - leave in about twenty minutes for Louisiana. Saved the faculty - the trouble of bouncing me. It was only an innocent childish - prank, but you know how faculties are. Four of our crowd didn’t - like the show at the theatre and quit it cold after the first - act. There was a car outside that looked good, and the fellow - who belonged to it hadn’t anchored it or locked it or anything. - So we thought we’d take a little spin and come back before the - show was over. How, I ask you, were we to know that the owner - couldn’t stand the show either? Well, he came out and couldn’t - find his bus and squealed to the police and they telephoned all - around and a cop on a motor cycle pulled us in about six miles - out and took us back to the station. If the guy had been the - right sort it would have been O.K., but he was a sour-faced - pill without an ounce of compassion and insisted on making a - charge against us. We got bail all right, and yesterday morning - the trifling matter was settled on a money basis, but the - dickens of it was that faculty got hep and we had our rather - and chose to resign instead of getting fired. Townsend’s father - has a rice farm or plantation or something in Louisiana and - he’s going to get me a job. There’ll be lots of riding, he - says, and I guess it’ll keep me going until I can look around. - We’re starting down there at eleven-thirty. I’ll write when I - reach the place and send the address. I’ve forgotten the name - of the town and Jim’s out getting tickets. I’ve written to Dad, - but you might drop him a line, too, old timer. You know what to - say, you were always the diplomat of the family. I’ll be fixed - for coin, so he won’t have to worry about that. Hope everything - is hunky with you, dear old pal. - - “Your aff. brother, - - “GEORGE.” - -Leonard returned the epistle, staring at Renneker blankly. The latter -laughed. “I might have known he couldn’t stick,” he said. “It’s just -like the crazy coot to have it happen a week too late, too. If he’d -skipped Thursday before last instead of this Thursday--” Renneker shook -his head in comic resignation. - -“But--but--but,” stammered Leonard, “you can play to-day, can’t you? -All you’ve got to do is tell Mr. Cade!” - -“My dear chap,” remonstrated the other, “one doesn’t upset the -arrangements at the last moment. Oh, I did consider it, but, pshaw, -what would be the good? Everything’s fixed and if I butted in I’d just -muddle things horribly. Besides, I really haven’t the courage to try -to explain it all in the brief time remaining. But, honest, Grant, -it is a sort of a ghastly joke, isn’t it? Why don’t you laugh, you -sober-face? I thought it would amuse you!” - -Leonard viewed him scathingly. “Honest, Renneker,” he replied with slow -and painstaking enunciation, “you give me an acute pain!” - -Renneker smiled more broadly. “Good boy! Speak your mind! However, if -you’ll stop being peeved and think a minute you’ll see that it wouldn’t -do to upset Johnny’s apple-cart at this late hour. Besides, I haven’t -brought my togs, and couldn’t play decently if I had. Why, I haven’t -practiced for a week, Grant.” - -“You don’t need practice,” responded Leonard earnestly. “A fellow like -you--” - -“The dickens I don’t!” scoffed Renneker. “I’m as stiff as a crutch. Be -a good fellow, Grant, and stop scolding.” Renneker looked at the letter -in his hand, returned it to its envelope and placed it back in his -pocket with a smile of resignation. “Just plain nut,” he said. “That’s -what he is.” - -Leonard, watching, was suddenly realizing that this new acquaintance -of his was a very likeable chap and that, although he did feel -thoroughly out of patience with him just now, he was getting to have -a sort of affection for him. Of course he wouldn’t have had Renneker -suspect the fact for an instant, but there it was! The big fellow’s -story seemed to explain a good deal, such as, for instance, that the -calm superiority affected by him had really been a blind to conceal -the fact that he was secretly in a state of nervous apprehension, in -short a colossal bluff that not even Coach Cade had had the nerve to -call! It must have been, Leonard reflected sympathetically, rather a -job to play good football and know that at any moment exposure might -occur. And, after all, that letter of George Renneker’s had rather won -Leonard. Of course the fellow was an irresponsible, hair-brained ass, -but, nevertheless, the reader had seemed to find something likeable in -the writer of that amazing epistle, and he understood somewhat better -why Gordon had felt it worth while to protect George even at the cost -of his own undoing. He wasn’t frowning any longer when Renneker looked -back from a momentary inspection of the flying landscape beyond the car -window. Renneker must have noted the change, for he asked: - -“Decided to overlook my transgressions?” - -Leonard nodded, smiling faintly. “Yes, although I still think you’re -all wrong. Let me tell you one thing, too. If--if”--he stumbled a -little there--“if you’re doing this because you think I’d be--be -disappointed about not playing, Renneker, you can just quit it right -now. I never expected to play in this game--anyhow, I haven’t for a -good while--and it won’t mean a thing to me if I don’t. So if that’s -it, or if that has anything to do with it--” - -“My dear chap,” replied Renneker soothingly, “when you know me better -you’ll realize that I’m not a Sir Launcelot or a--a Galahad. Rest quite -easy.” - -It wasn’t, though, a positive denial, and Leonard was by no means -convinced. He looked doubtfully, even suspiciously at the somewhat -quizzical countenance of the other and subsided. And then a trainman -banged open a door and shouted “La-a-akeville! Lakeville!” and Leonard -hurried back for his suit-case. - -They went to the hotel for luncheon, walking up from the station and -pretending they didn’t know that they were objects of interest all -the way along the five blocks. There remained the better part of an -hour before the meal was to be served, and after depositing their -bags in the room that was to serve them for dressing purposes, most -of the party descended again to the street and set off to see the -town. Slim claimed Leonard as his companion, but Leonard begged off -rather mysteriously and Slim set out a trifle huffily in company with -Appel and Menge. Leonard then set out to find Mr. Cade, and after -several unsuccessful inquiries had failed to discover that gentleman, -Tod Tenney came skipping down the stairs and, his escape blocked by -Leonard, revealed the fact that Mr. Cade and Mr. Fadden were in Room -17. Leonard, likewise scorning the snail-like elevator, climbed the -stairs and found the room. Mr. Cade’s voice answered his knock. The -coach and his associate were sitting in straight-back chairs in front -of a long window, their feet on the sill and pipes going busily. Mr. -Fadden looked around, waving the smoke clouds from before him with the -newspaper he held, and said sotto voce: “One of the boys, Cade.” - -“Can I speak to you a moment, sir?” asked Leonard. - -Mr. Cade’s feet came down from the sill with a bang and he swung -around. “Oh, hello, Grant! Why, certainly. Anything wrong?” - -“No, sir. It’s about--” He hesitated and glanced dubiously at Mr. -Fadden. - -“Oh, that’s all right,” laughed Mr. Cade. “You can speak before Mr. -Fadden. Pull up that chair and sit down first.” - -Leonard obeyed, occupying, however, only some six inches of the chair’s -surface. “It’s about Gordon Renneker, sir,” he began again. - -“Renneker?” The coach looked interested at once. “What about Renneker, -Grant?” - -“Well--” Leonard stopped and started anew: “Wouldn’t it help us a lot, -Mr. Cade, if he played to-day?” - -“Probably, but I thought it was understood that Renneker was--er--out -of football. What’s on your mind?” - -“I can’t explain it very well,” answered Leonard, “because I promised -not to speak about--about part of it. That makes it--difficult.” He -looked at Mr. Cade and then at Mr. Fadden as though seeking assistance. -Mr. Cade frowned perplexedly. - -“I’m afraid I can’t help you, Grant, for I don’t know what you’re -trying to get at. If you’re troubled about Renneker not playing, why, -I’ll have to tell you that there isn’t anything you can do about that. -We’re looking for you to see to it that he isn’t missed, Grant. And we -think you can do it.” - -Leonard shook his head. “That isn’t it, sir. I know something that -I can’t tell, because I promised not to.” He stopped and strove to -arrange matters in his mind. He wished he had composed a statement -before coming. Regarding all that Renneker had revealed to him last -evening his lips were sealed. It was only about what had transpired -this morning that he was not sworn to silence. It was, though, hard to -keep the two apart, and he didn’t want to break his promise. Mr. Cade, -watching him intently, waited in patience. Mr. Fadden puffed hard at -his pipe, silently friendly. Leonard rushed the hurdle. - -“If you’ll tell Renneker that you want to read a letter he received -this morning, sir,” he blurted, “you’ll understand.” - -“Tell him I want to read a letter he received?” repeated the coach in -puzzled tones. “But why should I, Grant?” - -“Why, because when you do read it, and Renneker has explained it, -you--he--why, sir, he can play this afternoon!” - -“Oh!” said Mr. Cade thoughtfully. After an instant he said: “Look here, -Grant, you must know a whole lot about this business of Renneker’s.” - -Leonard nodded. “Yes, sir, I know all about it. I--I knew about it -before you did.” - -The coach gazed at him curiously, opened his lips as if to speak, -closed them again and glanced questioningly at Mr. Fadden. - -“Better see Renneker and get it cleared up,” said the second team coach -oracularly. “Where there’s so much smoke there must be some fire. Let’s -get at it.” - -“All right.” He turned to Leonard again. “I suppose you realize that if -Renneker plays right guard to-day you don’t, Grant. At least, not long, -probably.” - -“Yes, sir, but Renneker’s a lot better than I am, and if he can play it -doesn’t matter about me, does it?” - -“H’m, no, I suppose it doesn’t. Well, I’m much obliged to you, my boy. -Whether anything comes of this or doesn’t, I quite understand that -you’ve tried to help us. Do you know where Renneker is just now?” - -“No, sir, not exactly. He went out right after we reached the hotel. -I--I guess I could find him.” - -“Do it, will you? Tell him--tell him whatever you think best. You know -more about this mystery than we do. Only see that he gets here right -away. Thanks, Grant.” - -“Could I tell him that you and Mr. Fadden want to see him to talk to -him about the game?” asked Leonard. “If he suspected anything he might -not want to come.” - -“The mystery deepens!” sighed Mr. Cade. “But tell him that by all -means. It’s totally and literally true. Just see that he comes -a-running!” - -Lakeville was in gala attire. Cherry-and-black pennants and bunting -adorned the store windows, and beyond the casement of the town’s -principal haberdasher the appropriate colors were massed in a -display of neckties and mufflers. Here and there the rival hues of -gray-and-gold were shown, but it was not until the arrival of the -Alton rooters that Lakeville became noticeably leavened with the -brighter tints. Leonard encountered Billy Wells and Sam Butler just -outside the hotel, but neither of them had seen Gordon Renneker lately, -and Leonard went on up the busy street on his quest. He discovered Slim -and three others admiring the contents of a bake shop window and bore -Slim away with him. - -“We’ve got to find Renneker,” he announced anxiously. - -“I don’t see why,” objected Slim. “I’m going to be just as happy, -General, if I never set eyes on him again.” - -“Dry up and come on. Mr. Cade wants him right off.” - -“Mr. Cade has strange fancies,” murmured Slim, but he accelerated his -steps. “Been over to the school grounds?” - -“No, I haven’t had time. Isn’t that--no, it isn’t. It did look like -him, back-to.” - -“It looks like him front-to,” replied Slim, “except that this guy is -about forty-five and has different features and has lost some of his -hair and wears glasses--” - -“Oh, for the love of mud, shut up, Slim! And do look around, can’t you? -I tell you this is important.” - -“I do wish I could feel it so,” said Slim exasperatingly, “but I -just can’t get up any enthusiasm for the chase. Besides, it’s getting -perilously close to chow time, and we’re going in the wrong direction -and--” - -“There he is!” Leonard left Slim abruptly and darted across the -street, narrowly escaping the ignominy of being run down by a rattling -flivver adorned with cherry-and-black pennants. Gordon Renneker had -just emerged from a doorway above which hung a black-and-gold sign -announcing “Olympic Lunch Room--Good Eats,” and still held in one hand -the larger part of a cheese sandwich. - -“Say, what the--” Renneker stared in amazement from Leonard to the -sandwich now lying in unappetizing fragments on the sidewalk. - -“Awfully sorry,” panted Leonard, “but you’re wanted at the hotel right -away. Room 17.” - -“I’m wanted? What for?” Leonard saw suspicion creeping into Renneker’s -eyes. - -“Mr. Cade and Mr. Fadden,” he answered quickly and glibly. “They told -me to tell you they wanted to see you about the game right away.” - -“Flattering,” said Renneker. “Oh, all right. Wait till I get another -sandwich--” - -“You mustn’t,” declared Leonard. “It’s almost lunch time, and they’re -waiting for you, and they’ll be mad if you don’t come quick!” He -pulled Renneker away from the lunch room doorway and guided him rapidly -toward the hotel. From across the street a perplexed and insulted Slim -watched them disappear. - -“Abandoned!” he muttered. “Adrift in a strange and cruel city! Heaven -help me!” - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - -“FIFTY-FIFTY!” - - -Leonard sat on the bench on the Alton side of the field and watched -the kickers at work. There had been a good ten minutes of signal drill -for both squads and now only the punters and drop-kickers remained on -the gridiron. The game was about to start. Across the field the Kenly -Hall sections were cheering loudly each member of their team in turn. -The officials were talking earnestly on the side-line. Something white -fluttered across Leonard’s shoulder from the stand above and behind -him and settled at his feet. He stooped and picked it up. It proved -to be the two middle pages of the official program. He looked around -to see if any one would claim it. But no one did and he settled back -and regarded the thing. On each page, where they had faced each other -before they had torn loose, were the line-ups of the teams, Alton to -the left, Kenly Hall to the right, each boxed in by advertisements -of local enterprises: “White Swan Laundry--Special Rates to Academy -Men--You Can’t Go Wrong, Fellows!” “Bell and Falk, Photographers to -All Classes Since 1912.” “Lakeville Pressing Club--Best and Quickest -Service in the City--” Leonard’s attention wandered to the column of -names in the center of the page. “Alton,” he read. “Staples, left -end; Butler, left tackle; Stimson, left guard; Newton, center; Grant, -right guard; Wells, right tackle; Emerson, Capt., right end; Appel, -quarterback; Menge, left halfback; Reilly, right halfback; Greenwood, -fullback.” - -His gaze crossed to the opposite list: “Hanley, left end; Pope, left -tackle; Tinkner, left guard; Henderson, center--” Interest waned, and -he returned to the first row of names; especially to the fifth from -the top. This was the first time Leonard had ever seen his name in a -regular program, to say nothing of one with a colored cover and costing -fifteen cents, and he was pardonably thrilled. It was, he reflected, -something to have your name down in the line-up, even if you didn’t -play! - -And Leonard wasn’t going to play; at least, not much. He felt pretty -confident of getting into the game long enough to secure his letter, -and, if luck was with him, he might even play for five minutes or ten, -supposing Renneker or Stimson failed to last. But, in spite of the -official program, Renneker was right guard to-day and not Grant. - -Leonard didn’t know what had taken place in Room 17 just before -luncheon, what arguments Mr. Cade had used, but he did know that -Renneker had capitulated. He hadn’t spoken to Renneker since, for -they had sat at different tables at luncheon and afterwards all had -been hurry and bustle, with some of the fellows riding to the field -in jitneys and others walking. Leonard had walked, with Slim and -Perry Stimson and Red Reilly. The conversation had been mostly about -Renneker, for that youth had appeared a few moments before in a -football costume of borrowed togs and Manager Tenney had spread the -joyous news that the big fellow was to play. Stimson and Reilly did -most of the speculating, for Slim, although clearly puzzled, knew so -much that he was afraid to discuss the matter lest he say too much, and -Leonard kept discreetly silent and was supposed by the others to be too -disappointed to find words. Slim evidently suspected Leonard of being -in the know, but there was no chance to charge him with it. Stimson and -Reilly were much pleased by the reinstatement of Renneker, although -they charitably strove to disguise the fact out of sympathy for Leonard. - -Only once had Leonard come face to face with Gordon Renneker, and -then it was in the crowded lobby of the hotel. Leonard’s look of -mingled defiance and apology had been answered by an eloquent shrug of -Renneker’s broad shoulders and a hopeless shake of the head. But the -big fellow wasn’t really angry, and Leonard was glad of that. Leonard -had had several qualms of conscience since that visit to Room 17, and -it had required much argument to convince himself that he had not, -after all, violated a confidence. - -Across the sunlit field the Kenly Hall band of seven pieces broke into -sound again, and a drum boomed loudly and a cornet blared and the -cheering section was off on a ribald song that ended with: - - “And the foe turned Gray when it came to pass - What looked like Gold was only brass!” - -The gridiron emptied. From the further side-line a man in a white -sweater advanced with a khaki-clad youth whose stockings were ringed -with cherry-red and black. Captain Emerson walked out and met them. The -rival leaders shook hands. A silver coin caught the sunlight as it spun -aloft and dropped to the turf. Captain Growe, of Kenly, pointed toward -the west goal and the little group broke up. A minute later the teams -were in place and the cheering was stilled. The referee’s voice floated -across on the northerly breeze: - -“Are you ready, Captain Emerson?... Ready, Captain Growe?” - -A whistle piped and Kenly kicked off at two minutes past two. - -Twenty-five minutes and some seconds later, when the first period -ended, several facts had become apparent to Leonard, watching -unblinkingly from the bench. One was that Alton and Kenly were about as -evenly matched in power and skill as any two teams could be. Another -was that, whichever won, the final score was going to be very small. -And the third was that Gordon Renneker was playing the kind of football -to-day that had won him a place on the All-Scholastic Team! - -With the wind, scarcely more than a strong breeze, behind her in -that first quarter, Kenly played a kicking game. But with the rival -ends as closely matched as they were to-day her punts won her little -advantage. Cricket Menge and Bee Appel always ran them back for fair -distances before they were thrown, and Joe Greenwood, returning the -punts, got almost equal ground. Each team tried out the opposing line -systematically without discovering any especially weak places. Each -team found that running the ends was no certain way to gain. The ball -changed hands again and again, hovering over the middle of the field. -Twice Alton made her first down and twice Kenly did the same. Alton was -penalized once for holding and Kenly was set back twice for off-side. -Each team made two attempts at forward-passing and each failed to -gain a foot by that method. When the quarter ended honors were even. - -The second period started out to be a duplicate of the first. There -was a heart-thrilling moment when Dill, of Kenly, made the first real -run of the day by leaking past Captain Emerson and eluding Reilly and -placing the pigskin eleven yards nearer the Alton goal. Yet, to counter -that, the Kenly attack was thrice spilled before it got well started -and the Cherry-and-Black was forced to punt again. Menge was hurt in -a tackle and Kendall took his place. Alton braced near her thirty-one -yards and carried the ball across the center line, concentrating on the -left of the enemy’s line and alternating with Kendall and Greenwood. -But just inside Kenly territory the advance petered out and a long -forward to Slim Staples grounded and Kendall punted over the goal-line. - -A few minutes later Alton again got the pigskin on her forty-seven -and began a punting game. With the wind behind him, Kendall was good -for something more than five yards better than the Kenly punter, and -after four exchanges the wisdom of the switch was evident, for Alton -found herself in possession of the ball on Kenly’s thirty-eight yards, -following a four yard run-back by Appel. An attack on left tackle -netted a scant two yards, and on second down Kendall once more went -back to kicking position. The play, however, proved a short heave over -the line that Reilly couldn’t reach. From the same formation Kendall -tried to get around the left on a wide run but was forced out for -no gain. With the ball too far over on the side of the field for an -attempt at a goal, Greenwood took Kendall’s place and Kenly covered her -backfield for a punt. But Appel was crafty, the enemy had scattered -her secondary defense and the unexpected happened. The ball went to -Reilly, and Red dashed straight ahead through a comfortably wide hole -opened for him by Renneker and Wells and put the pigskin down on the -twenty-seven! - -Pandemonium reigned on the south stands. Alton hoarsely demanded a -touchdown and Gray-and-Gold pennants waved and fluttered. On the -bench below, Leonard clenched his hands on his knees and watched with -straining gaze. There was time out for Kenly and a fresh player went -in at right half. Then Alton lined up again and Appel’s shrill voice -called the signal. - -It was Kendall back once more, but Greenwood got the ball and dug -through for something less than two yards. On the same play he got one -more, placing the pigskin just over Kenly’s twenty-five-yard line. -Then a play designed for just such a situation, a play that had been -practiced until it went as smoothly as a lot of oiled cogs, was called -for. Kendall was still eight yards back, Appel knelt before him to -take the ball from Newton and Kenly was on her toes to break through. -And then something happened. One of the cogs slipped, perhaps. At all -events, the ball never arose from Kendall’s toe, and when the whistle -blew the Alton quarterback was found at the bottom of the pile with the -pigskin desperately clutched in his arms. The perfect play had gone -agley, and instead of a deceptive end run by quarter, with fullback -swinging at empty air, it was fourth down for a six yard loss! - -[Illustration: On the same play he got one more] - -And then, while the Alton stands were blankly confronting the sudden -change in affairs, while Leonard was heaving a sigh that had seemed to -come from the very cleats of his shoes, Appel was piping his signal -again, undismayed, as it seemed by the misfortune. Now it was Captain -Emerson back, with Kenly somehow suspecting a forward-pass instead of -the threatened drop-kick. Well, a drop-kick from somewhere around the -thirty-seven yards, even with a breeze behind the kicker, did look -fishy. And yet that is just what followed. If Jim Newton had been at -fault before--and he may not have been, for all I know--he was perfect -now. The ball went back breast-high, was dropped leisurely and sped off -and up and over! And Alton had scored at last and some four hundred -wearers of the Gray-and-Gold became hysterically joyful! - -The half ended almost directly after that, with the score-board bearing -a single numeral still, a “3” following the word “Alton.” - -Leonard went back to the dressing room with the others and sat around -and listened and talked and was very excited and jubilant. Slim had a -beautiful swelled lip and couldn’t say much because he had to laugh -every time he heard himself speak. Renneker waved a hand across the -room at Leonard, but didn’t come over. He had a nice broad ribbon of -plaster under his right eye. Plaster, indeed, seemed quite a popular -ornament. Mr. Cade talked for a minute while Tod Tenney stood at the -door watching the hands on his watch. Leonard didn’t hear what he said -very well, but he cheered as loudly as any at the end. Then they piled -out and started back. - -Going along the bench, Leonard heard his name called and looked up -the slanting stand to where a youth with a Gray-and-Gold flag draping -his shoulders waved wildly. It was Johnny McGrath, Johnny very hoarse -from much shouting, who was greeting him. Leonard grinned and waved -back to him. Then, suddenly, the battle was on again, Kenly took -the ball on the kick-off and ran it back to her twenty-eight before -Billy Wells placed the runner on his head. Kenly smashed at the -Alton right, stopped and formed again. Once more the teams crashed -together. Kenly had made a yard. The whistle blew. Some one was still -down. “Greenwood!” exclaimed Leonard’s left-hand neighbor. Then: “No, -Renneker, by gum!” Jake, the trainer, was bending over the injured -player. A minute passed. Jake signaled to the bench. Mr. Cade jumped -up and looked down the line until his eye met Leonard’s. His head went -back and Leonard disentangled himself from his blanket and obeyed the -motion. On the field, Gordon Renneker, his head wobbling from side to -side, was coming off between Jake and Rus Emerson. - -“All right, Grant,” said the coach. “You know what to do without my -telling you. Go to it!” - -There were cheers from the stand behind him as he sped on, cheers for -Renneker and for Grant, short, snappy cheers that made a fellow tingle. -Leonard eyed Renneker anxiously as he drew near the little group. The -big fellow seemed to be just about all in, he thought. He didn’t like -the way his head lolled over on his shoulder, or those closed eyes of -his. He hoped that-- Then he stared. Renneker’s eyes had opened as -Leonard had come abreast, and then one of them had closed again in a -most amazing wink! Leonard asked himself if he had imagined it. He -turned his head to look back. Some one had taken Emerson’s place, but -Renneker’s head still lolled and wobbled. He must have imagined that -wink, and yet-- No, by jiminy, he hadn’t! He understood all at once. -Renneker was faking! He had pretended an injury so that Leonard might -have his place! - -“Hey! Report to the referee, General!” - -Appel’s voice brought him out of his amazed thoughts. He looked for -the white sweater, found it and slipped into the line. A whistle blew -again and--well, after that he was very busy. The game went on, hard, -gruelling. Alton advanced and retreated, Kenly won ground and lost it. -The ball hurtled through the air, feet pounded the turf, bodies rasped -together, tired lungs fought for breath and aching legs for strength. -The third period came to an end, the score unchanged. - -Leonard was playing better than he had ever played, better than he -had thought himself capable of playing. His victories were not easily -won, for his opponent was a big, hard-fighting fellow, but won they -were. The right side of the Alton line was still holding firmly, and it -continued to hold right up to those last few minutes of the game when -the Cherry-and-Black, desperate, reinforced with fresh players, ground -her way inexorably to the twenty-yard-line and, with Kenly throats -imploring a touchdown, thrice threw her attack at the enemy line and -was thrice repulsed almost under the shadow of the Alton goal. - -The end was close then, the time-keeper had his eyes on his watch -more often than on the game and all hope of a touchdown by rushing -tactics was abandoned by the home team. Either a pass over the line or -a field-goal must serve. Thus far Kenly’s forward-passes had almost -invariably failed, and this fact doubtless brought the decision to try -for a tied score rather than a victory. At all events, Kenly placed her -drop-kicker back, arranged her defenses and set the stage for the final -act. The kicker was on the twenty-seven yards, no great distance now -that the breeze had died away. The signal came, the ball shot back, the -lines met. - -Then it was that Leonard had his great moment. He went through, the -first of his line to start when the ball was passed, the only one to -penetrate that desperate wall in front of the kicker. Quite alone he -charged, almost in the path of the ball. An enemy was met and evaded -with a quick swing to the left. Hands clutched him, but too late. -He was off his feet now, arms upstretched, leaping high in the air. -Something swam toward him against the sunset light, brown and big, -turning lazily in its flight. An arm swept into its path. Leonard was -down in a writhing mass, had found his feet, was tossed aside. The -battle was up the field now, back near the thirty-five-yard line. -Leonard scrambled breathlessly up and staggered in the wake of the -swarming players. A whistle blew and a voice, the referee’s, was -shouting: - -“_Alton’s ball! First down!_” - -They were back in the hotel, the cheering and the tumult left behind -for the while. The dressing room was crowded, full of confusion and -excitement. Every one was talking, laughing, shouting at once. A -wonderful sense of complete happiness held Leonard as he tugged at -his laces. Just then it seemed as though nothing could ever possibly -happen that would matter one bit. They had beaten Kenly Hall! And he -had helped! Fellows were bumping into him, fairly walking over him, but -he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind even when some one placed a big hand at -the back of his head and bore down until it hurt. He looked up when -he could, though. It was Gordon Renneker. Leonard sought for words, -beautiful, big, round, insulting words, but the best he could do was -only: - -“You--you blamed old faker!” - -Renneker rumpled Leonard’s damp hair rudely, grinning down. - -“Fifty-fifty,” he said. - - -THE END - - - - -_This Isn’t All!_ - - -Would you like to know what became of the good friends you have made in -this book? - -Would you like to read other stories continuing their adventures and -experiences, or other books quite as entertaining by the same author? - -On the _reverse side_ of the wrapper which comes with this book, you -will find a wonderful list of stories which you can buy at the same -store where you got this book. - - -_Don’t throw away the Wrapper_ - -_Use it as a handy catalog of the books you want some day to have. -But in case you do mislay it, write to the Publishers for a complete -catalog._ - - - - -Football and Baseball Stories - -=Durably Bound. Illustrated. Colored Wrappers.= - -=Every Volume Complete in Itself.= - - -The Ralph Henry Barbour Books for Boys - -In these up-to-the-minute, spirited genuine stories of boy life there -is something which will appeal to every boy with the love of manliness, -cleanness and sportsmanship in his heart. - - LEFT END EDWARDS - LEFT TACKLE THAYER - LEFT GUARD GILBERT - CENTER RUSH ROWLAND - FULLBACK FOSTER - LEFT HALF HARMON - RIGHT END EMERSON - RIGHT GUARD GRANT - QUARTERBACK BATES - RIGHT TACKLE TODD - RIGHT HALF HOLLINS - - -The Christy Mathewson Books for Boys - -Every boy wants to know how to play ball in the fairest and squarest -way. These books about boys and baseball are full of wholesome and -manly interest and information. - - PITCHER POLLOCK - CATCHER CRAIG - FIRST BASE FAULKNER - SECOND BASE SLOAN - PITCHING IN A PINCH - - THIRD BASE THATCHER, By Everett Scott - - -GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK - - - - -THE TOM SLADE BOOKS - -By PERCY KEESE FITZHUGH - -Author of “Roy Blakeley,” “Pee-wee Harris,” “Westy Martin,” Etc. - -=Illustrated. Individual Picture Wrappers in Colors.= - -=Every Volume Complete in Itself.= - -“Let your boy grow up with Tom Slade,” is a suggestion which thousands -of parents have followed during the past, with the result that the TOM -SLADE BOOKS are the most popular boys’ books published today. They -take Tom Slade through a series of typical boy adventures through his -tenderfoot days as a scout, through his gallant days as an American -doughboy in France, back to his old patrol and the old camp ground at -Black Lake, and so on. - - TOM SLADE, BOY SCOUT - TOM SLADE AT TEMPLE CAMP - TOM SLADE ON THE RIVER - TOM SLADE WITH THE COLORS - TOM SLADE ON A TRANSPORT - TOM SLADE WITH THE BOYS OVER THERE - TOM SLADE, MOTORCYCLE DISPATCH BEARER - TOM SLADE WITH THE FLYING CORPS - TOM SLADE AT BLACK LAKE - TOM SLADE ON MYSTERY TRAIL - TOM SLADE’S DOUBLE DARE - TOM SLADE ON OVERLOOK MOUNTAIN - TOM SLADE PICKS A WINNER - TOM SLADE AT BEAR MOUNTAIN - TOM SLADE: FOREST RANGER - TOM SLADE IN THE NORTH WOODS - - -GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK - - - - -THE ROY BLAKELEY BOOKS - -By PERCY KEESE FITZHUGH - -Author of “Tom Slade,” “Pee-wee Harris,” “Westy Martin,” Etc. - -=Illustrated. Picture Wrappers in Color.= - -=Every Volume Complete in Itself.= - - -In the character and adventures of Roy Blakeley are typified the very -essence of Boy life. He is a real boy, as real as Huck Finn and Tom -Sawyer. He is the moving spirit of the troop of Scouts of which he is -a member, and the average boy has to go only a little way in the first -book before Roy is the best friend he ever had, and he is willing to -part with his best treasure to get the next book in the series. - - ROY BLAKELEY - ROY BLAKELEY’S ADVENTURES IN CAMP - ROY BLAKELEY, PATHFINDER - ROY BLAKELEY’S CAMP ON WHEELS - ROY BLAKELEY’S SILVER FOX PATROL - ROY BLAKELEY’S MOTOR CARAVAN - ROY BLAKELEY, LOST, STRAYED OR STOLEN - ROY BLAKELEY’S BEE-LINE HIKE - ROY BLAKELEY AT THE HAUNTED CAMP - ROY BLAKELEY’S FUNNY BONE HIKE - ROY BLAKELEY’S TANGLED TRAIL - ROY BLAKELEY ON THE MOHAWK TRAIL - ROY BLAKELEY’S ELASTIC HIKE - ROY BLAKELEY’S ROUNDABOUT HIKE - - -GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK - - - - -THE PEE-WEE HARRIS BOOKS - -By PERCY KEESE FITZHUGH - -Author of “Tom Slade,” “Roy Blakeley,” “Westy Martin,” Etc. - -=Illustrated. Individual Picture Wrappers in Color.= - -=Every Volume Complete in Itself.= - - -All readers of the Tom Slade and the Roy Blakeley books are acquainted -with Pee-wee Harris. These stories record the true facts concerning his -size (what there is of it) and his heroism (such as it is), his voice, -his clothes, his appetite, his friends, his enemies, his victims. -Together with the thrilling narrative of how he foiled, baffled, -circumvented and triumphed over everything and everybody (except where -he failed) and how even when he failed he succeeded. The whole recorded -in a series of screams and told with neither muffler nor cut-out. - - PEE-WEE HARRIS - PEE-WEE HARRIS ON THE TRAIL - PEE-WEE HARRIS IN CAMP - PEE-WEE HARRIS IN LUCK - PEE-WEE HARRIS ADRIFT - PEE-WEE HARRIS F. O. B. BRIDGEBORO - PEE-WEE HARRIS FIXER - PEE-WEE HARRIS: AS GOOD AS HIS WORD - PEE-WEE HARRIS: MAYOR FOR A DAY - PEE-WEE HARRIS AND THE SUNKEN TREASURE - -GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK - - - - -THE WESTY MARTIN BOOKS - -By PERCY KEESE FITZHUGH - -Author of the “Tom Slade” and “Roy Blakeley” Books, Etc. - -=Individual Colored Wrappers. Illustrated.= - -=Every Volume Complete in Itself.= - - -Westy Martin, known to every friend of Roy Blakeley, appears as the -hero of adventures quite different from those in which we have seen him -participate as a Scout of Bridgeboro and of Temple Camp. On his way to -the Yellowstone the bigness of the vast West and the thoughts of the -wild preserve that he is going to visit make him conscious of his own -smallness and of the futility of “boy scouting” and woods lore in this -great region. Yet he was to learn that if it had not been for his scout -training he would never have been able to survive the experiences he -had in these stories. - - WESTY MARTIN - WESTY MARTIN IN THE YELLOWSTONE - WESTY MARTIN IN THE ROCKIES - WESTY MARTIN ON THE SANTA FE TRAIL - WESTY MARTIN ON THE OLD INDIAN TRAILS - - -GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK - - - - -THE LITTLE WASHINGTONS SERIES - -By LILLIAN ELIZABETH ROY - -=Handsomely Bound. Colored Wrappers. Illustrated.= - -=For Children 6 to 12 Years= - - -This series presents early American history in a manner that impresses -the young readers. Because of George and Martha Washington Parke, two -young descendants of the famous General Washington, these stories -follow exactly the life of the great American, by means of playing they -act the life of the Washingtons, both in battles and in society. - -THE LITTLE WASHINGTONS - -Their thrilling battles and expeditions generally end in “punishment” -lessons read by Mrs. Parke from the “Life of Washington.” The culprits -listen intently, for this reading generally gives them new ideas for -further games of Indian warfare and Colonists’ battles. - - -THE LITTLE WASHINGTONS’ RELATIVES - -The Davis children visit the Parke home and join zealously in the games -of playing General Washington. So zealously, in fact, that little Jim -almost loses his scalp. - - -THE LITTLE WASHINGTONS’ TRAVELS - -The children wage a fierce battle upon the roof of a hotel in New York -City. Then, visiting the Davis home in Philadelphia, the patriotic -Washingtons vanquish the Hessians on a battle-field in the empty lot -back of the Davis property. - - -THE LITTLE WASHINGTONS AT SCHOOL - -After the school-house battle the Washingtons discover a band of -gypsies camping near the back road to their homes and incidentally they -secure the stolen horse which the gypsies had taken from the “butter -and egg farmer” of the Parkes. - - -THE LITTLE WASHINGTONS’ HOLIDAYS - -They spend a pleasant summer on two adjoining farms in Vermont. During -the voyage they try to capture a “frigate” but little Jim is caught and -about to be punished by the Captain when his confederates hasten in and -save him. - -GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK - - - - -Jerry Todd and Poppy Ott Series - -BY LEO EDWARDS - -=Durably Bound. Illustrated. Individual Colored Wrappers.= - -=Every Volume Complete in Itself.= - - -Hundreds of thousands of boys who laughed until their sides ached over -the weird and wonderful adventures of Jerry Todd and his gang demanded -that Leo Edwards, the author, give them more books like the Jerry Todd -stories with their belt-bursting laughs and creepy shivers. So he took -Poppy Ott, Jerry Todd’s bosom chum and created the Poppy Ott Series, -and if such a thing could be possible--they are even more full of fun -and excitement than the Jerry Todds. - - -THE POPPY OTT SERIES - - POPPY OTT AND THE STUTTERING PARROT - POPPY OTT AND THE SEVEN LEAGUE STILTS - POPPY OTT AND THE GALLOPING SNAIL - POPPY OTT’S PEDIGREED PICKLES - - -THE JERRY TODD BOOKS - - JERRY TODD AND THE WHISPERING MUMMY - JERRY TODD AND THE ROSE-COLORED CAT - JERRY TODD AND THE OAK ISLAND TREASURE - JERRY TODD AND THE WALTZING HEN - JERRY TODD AND THE TALKING FROG - JERRY TODD AND THE PURRING EGG - JERRY TODD IN THE WHISPERING CAVE - - -GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK - - - - - * * * * * * - - - - -Transcriber’s note: - - --Printer's, punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently - corrected. - - --Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved. - - --Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved. - - --The author’s em-dash style has been retained. - - --Except for the frontispiece, illustrations have been moved to - follow the text that they illustrate. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RIGHT GUARD GRANT*** - - -******* This file should be named 53116-0.txt or 53116-0.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/3/1/1/53116 - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - |